Category: MH vs Dating

Light it Up

by maryhelenc, posted in Celebrity Fluff, Current Events, MH vs Dating, My New Life As Me, Political Fluff, Relationships, Seriously WTF?, Social Media

While I have a love/hate relationship with the Facebook, I LOVE George Takei.

Mr. Takei’s humour is dry and witty, but he also gives a lot of thoughts on the LGBT community, which I enjoy as well. While I am not gay, I do have LGBT friends and relatives and I want them to enjoy the same basic human rights as I do. I do not feel that it conflicts with my religious beliefs as Jesus himself never mentioned it once.

Anywho, today while mentioning waiting on the Supreme Court’s ruling regarding Prop 8, several people spoke out against the idea of same sex marriage. The normal bigotry was there, but then one woman made a comment that the LGBT community only wants to get married “to mince down the aisle and throw a big party.”

Speaking as someone who cares very little for matrimony (more on that HERE) I must say that this is, by far, the stupidest thing I have ever heard in my entire life. Clearly this woman has never watched one of those stupid wedding shows like “Say Yes to the Dress” or “Bride Wars” or any of that other crap. Most straight women I know care only about mincing down the aisle and a throwing a big party. I barely planned my first wedding, I honestly grew bored with details and my MIL kept taking over so finally I just let her. I really didn’t care. I’m not one to plan a big thing where I’m the centre of attention and means nothing in the grand scheme of things. It’s a big, expensive party. Even when I was casually planning ideas for a wedding (more to mock the idea of Pinterest. Seriously, Pinterest is effing stupid as Hell), I picked a colour scheme for each season, and then stopped caring. Personally, I was more excited about the idea of the marriage; the dinners with the kids, the paying of the mortgage, the arguments about money, the family vacations, and the idea of waking up next to him each morning and watching crappy television with him at night while talking about the day @ work. I wanted a life with him, one that we built together, even when it was hard, or we didn’t get along or drove each other nuts. I wanted the day in & day out moments, housework & car repairs & field trips & to grow old with him. When I thought about our life together, I thought about the life. I’d learn to be a better housekeeper, he’d learn to communicate. I thought about the simple joy of being with him forever. I didn’t need a party or a piece of paper to do those things.

To imply that only the LGBT community care about the elaborate party when TLC revels in brides screaming at their families about wanting to look like a fairy princess and “IT’S MY DAY!” is a titch bit ridiculous. The day isn’t about the bride being a fairy princess; it’s about two people telling family and friends “This is my choice. I chose this person to stand beside me in life, to own property and raise a family with. This person may not be your choice, but s/he is mine and I want to make that choice legal.” Everyone deserves that right, whether it’s two males, two females, or a man and a woman. Everyone deserves that chance and I hope the US grants that right.

I have been to many weddings in the last five years, and I can honestly say that every single bride was looking forward to playing dress up more than investing in the marriage, save for one. It’s no surprise that all of these marriages are on the rocks or have ended, except for that one, who are living a happy life with their young daughter. People put more time into the wedding than the marriage, and then they fail. This is not limited to the LGBT community. This is EVERYONE. The opposite is true too. I put very little effort into planning my wedding and that marriage failed too. Maybe we need to find a balance. Plan a wedding, but not so you’re a fairy princess; but that you’re hosting an event for friends and family to celebrate your choice. Make the marriage the focus, not the centrepieces. It’s not about mincing down an aisle or dresses or flowers; it’s about making a partnership. So, whether it’s a same sex union or a heterosexual one, the focus needs to be on the union; not the party.

Butterfly Kisses

by maryhelenc, posted in Crazy Talk, Douchers, MH vs Dating, Mommydom, My New Life As Me, Relationships, Seriously WTF?

In honour of Father’s Day, I’ve decided to write about my relationship with my own father figures.

My father passed away when I was five years old, so I was that kid who sat out of craft time while the other kids got to make their paper neckties. It was pretty demoralizing and likely didn’t help with that fear of isolation, but I’m not here to psychoanalyze myself.

I’ve often wondered if my dad would be proud of the person I’ve become, or if he would think I was some kind of raging screw-up. I haven’t really been the best kid all of the time. I’ve lipped off to my mom, I’ve been a pain in the ass and I’ll likely never have a husband, namely because I don’t particularly see it as important and I don’t know if I want to date anyone ever again (my track record of cancelling the last 15 dates in a row is pretty telling), nor would my children accept anyone else besides the mate they want for me. My first marriage was a comedy of errors and my academic performance in any class that wasn’t english, the arts, sociology or media was pretty piss poor. I mean, yeah, I got the diplomas, but could I have been better? Am I the person that my father would be proud of? It’s something that weighs on me every single Father’s day.

Then there is my foster father, whom I call my dad. He is a great man, who encouraged me to be myself. He told me that I was a charismatic, dynamic young lady and people would be jealous of the person that I was, because all eyes go on me when I enter a room because I’m bright, witty, and charming. He taught me to be myself, trust my own instincts and believe that I was capable of anything. Somewhere I lost those lessons along the way and I guess I need to reclaim those lessons, because my dad is a smart man and he wouldn’t have said it if he didn’t believe it. He’s the most important male influence I’ve ever had and I hope he’s proud of me too. Sometimes I wonder, for all of the reasons listed above. Maybe I don’t live up to my full potential. Maybe I don’t surround myself with the right people. Maybe I screw up the positive relationships in my life to spend time with people who hold me back from being my best self. I don’t know, but I know that I hope he’s proud of me.

So, these are the things I think about every single father’s day. I hope all of the dads out there are having a great day. To the stepdads who pick up the slack for the deadbeats and the dads that take their job seriously, I commend you. To the single moms going it alone, be proud of yourselves. To the grandpas and uncles and male role models who step up when no one else is there and come out to family outings, etc. I hope you know how important you are.

Before Tomorrow Comes

by maryhelenc, posted in Douchers, Fitnesslicious, MH vs Dating, Mommydom, My New Life As Me, Relationships

As Hannibal from the A-Team said, “I love it when a plan comes together.”

I love when I take a look at my life and things are going almost EXACTLY the way I want them to. I’ve been out of school for a little over a month and I’m already starting a job next week. It’s not in either field, but it’ll pay bills, which is great. However, tomorrow I have interviews for two more positions, both more financially lucrative. Again, not in my fields of study, but still rewarding. I also have a meeting to close up another chapter in my life that has been plaguing me for some time. That’s behind me too. My weight loss and fitness goals are being met, and I’m healthier. All of these things are good things and remind me of how easily I can make things happen when I put my mind to them.

I’ve even had a couple of really positive chats with “the dad.” While we’ll never be friends, we understand each other a bit better now. He’s on medication and I’ve long accepted that my inability to provide genuine romantic love for him contributed to the end of the union. It doesn’t excuse his actions, but I don’t think I helped boost his self esteem either. However, he did remind me to make sure that I make my own choices, because “Your friends; they control you. Don’t let them do it anymore.” (I’m not sure if I 100% believe that, but I have had a few people tell me this lately) He also gave some advice about love, believe it or not, because when I was happy, he wasn’t terribly thrilled, but now he realizes things are better if I’m happy & wishes that the kids could get their way because they were happier then too (which is weird, when your ex-husband says you were better off with someone else. He’s not wrong, but it’s huge growth for a guy who once told me his only joy would be when I was miserable). Will we ever have our pre-marriage friendship back? Unlikely. But we can co-parent without killing each other…right now. We’ll see how long this truce lasts, because we’ve both wrecked those truces before. I have to give him a lot of credit for this current truce, he’s been doing more for the kids and trying to get along with me, which has been good for the girls.

My hippie friend and my amazeballs Texan tell me that I need to recapture my “MH-ness” which is that I take no crap from anyone. I’m dominant and life is my bitch. So, that’s how I will carry myself, because that’s who I am and I’m proud of who I am. So, much like Hannibal, I love when a plan comes together. Things are all working in a direction so that my life will be almost exactly the way I want it. It will never be 100% the way I want it, but almost is better than not @ all, and I’ll take almost right now.

My friend the Texan told me that the hair Gods are in my favour, so that is coming together too. My friend the Texan told me that the hair Gods are in my favour, so that is coming together too.

Music Again

by maryhelenc, posted in Dorkdom, Douchers, MH vs Dating, My New Life As Me, Seriously WTF?

When I was a kid, I only had two goals in my life. I wanted to be a writer and I wanted to sing.

Wasn't I cute?
Wasn’t I cute?

Fast forward to my 19th year of life, when I took a chance and applied to Humber College’s Bachelor of Music program (and journalism to fall back on). Shockingly enough, I received an advanced acceptance to both! I was so excited and I told my music teacher Mrs. Christmas (no her first name wasn’t Mary. That was her husband’s first wife) who reiterated what the faculty @ Humber said, that my future in performing arts was limited because while I was a talented singer, I had a squeak. The squeak would prevent me from ever becoming a successful performer. So, I gave up on my dream of full time performing and focused solely on writing. This is likely for the best, as I am a much better performer than I am a singer.

Anywho, years later (you don’t need to know how many), my friend Yogi said she wanted to sing @ karaoke with me and I sent her an audio clip of me singing acapella and she told me that it was great! No mention of the dreaded squeak that made me somehow untalented. Just that I was awesome. So, from that day on, I accepted the squeak.

We all have something like that. I am an amazing person except for ____. However, we need to swap out “except” with “accept”. By embracing the things about us and the people around us that totally suck, we will be able to truly love ourselves for who and what we are. So, I will always accept the parts of me that suck and be completely accepting of my flaws, just like my squeak. I seriously contemplated uploading audio of me singing my favourite song (Stubborn Love by the Lumineers) because I’m pretty sure I squeak a lot, but I am techno stupid and I don’t know how to do that.

So, the next time someone says “you’re great except…” just swap that word for “accept” and love who you are, squeak and all.

You Know Where I’m At

by maryhelenc, posted in Celebrity Fluff, Dear Blank, Douchers, MH vs Dating, Mommydom, My New Life As Me, Relationships, Seriously WTF?, Television

Last night, I couldn’t find my remote, so I couldn’t change the channel after watching my pretend husband Adam Levine on The Voice.

Yes, this shirtless photo of Adam Levine is essential to this blog post...you're welcome
Yes, this shirtless photo of Adam Levine is essential to this blog post…you’re welcome

I was studying for a final so I figured I’d leave whatever the eff was on as background noise. It turned out that it was this dating show called Ready For Love. We all know my feelings on dating shows (if not, click HERE & HERE), yet this was like some kind of weird train wreck. I wanted to get up & change the channel, but I didn’t want to look for my remote because I was morbidly fascinated by this bizarre…thing.

Anywho, the plot is these three guys let matchmakers pick out a bunch of chicks for them & the matchmakers sort of guide dude to find the one…or something (I did learn that the Plain White T’s are still a thing, so there’s that). But one of the girls who was sent packing said that “nice girls finish last.”

Do they?

I’m a nice girl. Sickeningly so. I’m all kinds of Jesus loving, gift buying, naive as all get out, good girl. I give to people until there is nothing left & when I love someone, I’m stupidly devoted to them. I don’t do casual sex. I need to know you love me before you get that (I broke that rule one time, for someone I loved beyond reason) & if you’re in my bed, it means I truly believe you are my match. In fact, I struggle to date again if I’ve given you that, because I feel like I gave you the best I had in me to give & it wasn’t good enough. I would rather waste my life waiting for a person I feel is worth waiting for than date a million people (my online dating profile exists, but it serves for me to reject many boys & only to shut the psych major up hahaha) But do I finish last? I don’t think so. I have a pretty fulfilled life; awesome kids, good friends, an outlet for my talent. Not too shabby. I don’t need a relationship to complete me. I don’t get lonely for a partner. If I do, it’s for a specific person, not just a faceless partner, someone who has qualities I admire, who I feel can be a role model for my daughters, someone I care about.

I think people sort of use that as a crutch to explain why guys are douchebags. Some are, but other men & women just cannot handle having what they’ve wanted; someone who loves them completely. You build the image up in your mind of your ideal mate & most of the time, the image doesn’t fit reality. 90% of the time, the person who is right for us isn’t the person we expected. Some people can roll with that, others can’t. They begin to let doubts creep in because they’re not used to someone essentially looking at them like they’re amazing & they worry about things like “what if I’m not so God-like (chances are, they know)” or “why don’t I see him/her like that? (Chances are you give love differently, it doesn’t mean you love them less, you just love them in your own way)” Soon enough, you feel smothered and guilty because you simply can’t understand that level of acceptance, because you’ve never had it yourself (something I struggle with). Maybe the two of you aren’t on the same page (one is further ahead and you need to slow down) and you don’t know how to say you’re not ready to jump in yet, or vice versa. Maybe they aren’t the mate you envisioned on paper; they’re flighty, or even a little nuts & you question your choice (or you worry about others questioning it). The idea of love is wonderful, the act of maintaining love is terrifying. That’s why so many of us rush into one relationship after another; we’ve been trained to believe that the other person just sucked & it’s because we’re nice & we finish last.

The truth is, that we love the idea of love, not being in love, which is why we always muck up the best relationships & then rush into the next one instead of evaluating what we really want. Perhaps we should have worked harder, or talked to our partner as things happened, so we can apply that to our next relationship. Perhaps we still miss the one we let get away so we try to replace them & end up with a string of failed relationships trying to fill the hole (which my own therapist claims those who feel a hole either a) have terribly low self esteem and need to be in a relationship to feel validated or b) are missing the presence of a former lover that they feel “got away”), while still creeping their online profile because deep down, that’s what we want but we’re too damn stubborn to admit it (something one of the girls did on the train wreck last night. She realized she let someone great go & went to fight for him. The other train wreck chicks were pissed, but I thought it was pretty ballsy to admit you weren’t ready @ the time, but you’re sorry & you are now & you want to try again. He kept her, so maybe he is big into giving someone a million chances).

They say if you care enough to wonder what they're thinking, then maybe you should care enough to be with them. Of course, most proverbs were written by monks soooo...
They say if you care enough to wonder what they’re thinking, then maybe you should care enough to be with them. Of course, most proverbs were written by monks soooo…

It’s not because nice people finish last. It’s because we’ve been taught that people are replaceable & that makes us want everything & nothing; we want someone to complete us, but not get too close, someone to want to be our mate, but not overwhelm us, someone to understand us, even if we don’t tell them what’s wrong. It has to be our time, our way & we are the star of the relationship & it’s not about being a team. It’s not a matter of nice or douchey, because these are things that plague all of us. We need to start working together to meet in the middle. Sometimes we need to start over, sometimes we need to understand that the thing that seemed wrong on paper is the right thing for us, or that not everyone loves the same way & that’s okay, sometimes we need to go backwards before we go forward & sometimes we need to open up before we close the door.

So, nice people don’t finish last. They just struggle to navigate like the rest of the world. We’ll all figure it out…but most likely NOT on a dating show.

On Your Own

by maryhelenc, posted in Crazy Talk, Douchers, MH vs Dating, Mommydom, My New Life As Me, Seriously WTF?

Once upon a time, in a time that seems like it was a million years ago, I spent every Friday night alone.

I loved it. My girls were in bed and my ex-husband and my best guy friend went to “Country Night” at this divey bar. They would generally drink too much and come home in a cab stupid, but I got to be alone. I would take a hot bath, watch Flashpoint, read a book, go to bed when I wanted (we had a marital rule that we had to go to bed together, always together. Blargh). It was lovely.

Fast forward to the separation and those random moments when we tried to be friends and I was free of the control and I would go to leave his apartment after we argued about something yet again and he would always say “Don’t go. You don’t know what it’s like to be alone. No one calls, no texts, nothing. The silence is horrible.” It wasn’t anger or control, it was mind numbing terror. He sounded so horrified, so sad, like the idea of another night by himself actually pained him. I remembered when we first split, his mother said to me “You will never understand what it is like to be so…alone.” Same thing, the terror. Even my friends would ask me how I intended to deal with being alone and they sounded scared.

Back in the summer, when I felt like things were horrible in my life and I was scraping together enough money to throw my child a decent birthday party, I ended up at his apartment. Not for any reason, except that I wanted to talk to him, rekindle our old friendship, for the girls and because I felt so completely alone. It ended horribly; we fought, I cried so hard. I ended up back @ home after a few hours feeling so small and meek. My friends were screaming @ me asking me why I’d go back there, etc. Truthfully, I just didn’t want to feel alone anymore. So, the past few months, I was afraid of feeling that weird alone place that everyone makes sound so horrifying, so I’ve been trying to spend as much time with people as possible, to avoid that feeling of alone, helpless, quiet.

However, I’m slowly learning that’s why I’m not really an equal in any of my relationships with people. Because I’m so afraid of being isolated from the people I care about, I will do anything to avoid people walking out of my life. I’ll whine, beg, act like an ass and ruin all of my interpersonal relationships. It’s not anyone’s fault; human nature is to use the tools we have to get what we want. If we feel slighted, we will use someone’s Achilles heel to achieve the desired result of “getting your own way.” We all do it, whether we want to admit it or not. However, about a week or two ago, I got thinking about the moment I feared being alone. Yes, isolation has always been used against me, as it was an oft-used childhood punishment, but during my younger years, I would fall off the grid for days, weeks, just because I wanted to veg out. If someone got mad @ me, I would apologize if it was justified and otherwise it was “oh well, if the friendship meant something, we’ll talk it out when they calm down and we’ll both get our feet out of our mouths.” It wasn’t until I heard the terror in the voices of grown men and women, that being alone was so horrifying, that you’ll eventually be driven mad by it.

So, I stopped.

I only replied to a few text messages. I stopped leaving my house except for school. I stopped calling people. I cancelled yet another date. I just sat at home. I watched TV (Chicago Fire is pretty awesome), but most importantly, I didn’t die.

In fact, it wasn’t so bad at all.

Maybe being alone isn’t so terrifying. Maybe it’s just what is. I don’t NEED to be around people to feel sane, because it’s not the end of the world to be alone. I don’t need to constantly be around people every single second of my life, inundating them with chatter or reaching out because otherwise I’ll be in this horrible void of nothingness known as the big, bad…alone.

I’ll just be learning to relax, which honestly, would do me a world of good.

Life Is Waiting

by maryhelenc, posted in Dear Blank, Douchers, MH vs Dating, Mommydom, My New Life As Me, Quotable Quotes and Potpourri, WWE Wrasslin'

In the words of the late Owen Hart:

“Enough is enough & it’s time for a change.”

My life has been in this sort of holding pattern & I feel stuck.

Truthfully, my life hasn’t really been my own for a long time. I like to pretend it is, but it hasn’t been. The divorce & custody proceedings have kept me from adequately planning a future. For six months, I’ve kept my personal life on hold because I believed a person who promised me they would always come back for me, no matter what. So, I waited, rejecting any possible suitor because I trusted that he’d come back for me like he said he would. The divorce is final, & people break promises every day (the MH fatal flaw, believing in promises & holding them sacred). Law is definitely not for me & my media prospects are limited, & this leaves me spinning my wheels, wondering what to do.

I’m professionally dissatisfied, personally dissatisfied & just kind of blah. So, I need to start coming up with a plan to make my future more what I’d like it to be, instead of waiting, hoping it’ll all just fall into place. I need to take control of my life & make it work for me, no more excuses.

First thing is a career change, one that requires an education that is only offered far from Windsor. It’d be a better fit for me, something more people focused & less paperwork. Perhaps leaving Windsor is what I need. You can’t wait for something that is never coming if you’re not near it. Maybe putting as much space there will make it easier, because I don’t want to keep waiting for something that just won’t happen. The one thing that worries me most is leaving my good friends to venture somewhere that I don’t know anyone. But I didn’t know anyone when I moved to Windsor & I met amazing people. Maybe it’ll happen again. I’d only be a train ride away & technology will keep us in touch too. However, I’m not sure that I want to leave town to pursue a career that may or may not be right for me. Then I’d be far from my support system and still have no clear direction.

There’s also the girls to consider. They need their Dad & I’m not sure how he’d feel about us leaving. Obviously, we’d need to work that out and I’m not sure how well that would go, seeing as he has no access to transportation, which would impede him from being able to see them on a regular basis, which isn’t something I want to restrict the girls from.

Truthfully, this is only one plan. Plans change all of the time. But I definitely need to figure out where & who I want to be so I can do that. I’m not good @ complacency, I need to start achieving…once I figure out what that is.

Mission Bells

by maryhelenc, posted in Celebrity Fluff, MH vs Dating, Quotable Quotes and Potpourri, Relationships, Seriously WTF?, Social Media, Television

I know I’ve mentioned it a million times but I seriously HATE The Bachelor/Bachelorette franchise. So much.

First of all, I hate how my Twitter TL is all “This is so romantic” or “Poor ____, it won’t last” or “That’s the only type of proposal I want. Neil Lane ring too, because that’s real love.” Please all go die in a fire. Secondly, I hate that it’s considered super romantic to compete with 29 other people for some person who is systematically toying with a whole bunch of emotions. Then you can’t see each other in the really real world after the show, because your “love” must be exploited for ratings. Barf.

None of it is real. None of it. The exotic locations, the phoney dates, all of it is for show. Yes, it has produced two successful marriages, the exception isn’t always the rule (My friend got married on her fifth date, but that doesn’t mean it works for everyone). These people don’t know how to roll with the punches, with the crap that sucks, with the fights and the clogged drains and the communication mishaps, etc. While it all seems romantic, these stupid shows give the idea that love is warm and fuzzy and dare I say, easy.

Even Nicholas Sparks added conflict. While people remember that Noah and Allie from the Notebook conquered every obstacle, including years of separation to find their happy ending, people forget that they fought every day. It wasn’t easy; they fought all of the time! They struggled and worked to endure and they did. But that gets lost along the way amongst the swans and the romance. IMO, the greatest quote from that book and film is this one:

“Well, that’s what we do. We fight. You tell me when I’m being a arrogant son of a bitch; and I tell you when your being a pain in the ass, which you are, 99% of the time. I’m not afraid to hurt your feelings. You’ve got like a two-second rebound rate; then you’re back to doing the next pain in the ass thing. It’s not going to be easy, No. It’s going to be hard. But I’m willing to work at this; because I want you. All of you. Forever. You and Me. Everyday”

Real love, true love is the person who knows you’re a douchebag and still wants you. The person who understands that you probably suck, you’re not as great as you think you are (or as horrible as you think you are) and accepts everything you do, even those things that suck ass. They love you when you’re the least likeable, when you do the things that your friends hate, they hold onto you when you push them away and even when everything sucks and nothing looks hopeful and you can’t even stand that person’s face, you still want to try, one last time to see if it all works out. Yes, that seems a little dramatic, but it’s true. All of the greatest couples that I know have had their shares of miscommunications, problems and struggles. Maybe money was tight. Maybe they didn’t know how to talk to each other. Maybe they broke up and acted like total dicks and in a moment of clarity realized he/she was the right person and started over. We don’t have an instruction manual to help us deal with other humans and we generally mess it all up. But the person who’s right for you is willing to work through all of the stuff that sucks to get to the parts that are amazing and that’s not something you can get from a TV show. You get to do cool stuff and go to pretty places, but how are you going to handle the tough times, when you’re not on the same page and you need to slow down/speed up, or the dishwasher is broken, or you got in that big stupid fight about stupid stuff? That’s the thing that truly defines love.

Truthfully, if someone could love me for me, through my general kookiness, give me a million chances, understand that I’m too nice to get angry and I’ll probably cry 18 times a month, the locations, the ring, the “love story” would mean nothing to me. Give me a garbage tie and tell me you won’t give up even when I’m a douchebag. We need to stop looking @ TV love like it’s any kind of real love and look for the actual epic love; the person who truly gets you, even when you are your worst self, because they make you strive to be your best self.

The 2013 30 Day Blog Challenge: Day 30

by maryhelenc, posted in ASH Blog Projects, MH vs Dating, Mommydom, MusicIsLifeIsMusicIsLife

Day 30: 10 things you would want to be remembered for.

There’s more than just 10. I want to be known as a good mom who tried her best for her kids, a good friend, the love of someone’s life, someone who made a difference, the best damn writer I could be. I don’t want to be a nother person who just existed.

But I’ll let Beyonce explain it better than I ever could.

The 2013 30 Day Blog Challenge: Day 28

by maryhelenc, posted in ASH Blog Projects, Dear Blank, Douchers, MH vs Dating, Mommydom, My New Life As Me, Quotable Quotes and Potpourri, Relationships, Seriously WTF?, When Things Suck Hard

Day 28: What is your love language?

***Dear readers, I apologize if this is more personal than the general crap that I produce that I pretend people enjoy. I promise to bring my vapidly endearing brand of self-depreciating wit back tomorrow.***

My love language?

I don’t.

My former husband calls me a lot of things; frigid, cold, and a bunch of insults I won’t publish here. I guess in a way, he is right.

I love my daughters, I love my friends. But I don’t love men. Well, not in the conventional sense. I base my relationships on logic. I choose mates based on what makes sense for me, my daughters, does it work on paper, with one exception. My love life mainly consists of first dates that I leave early or never call. The last guy who made it to date two told me that he thought he wanted to get to know me better; I told him I wanted to go home. They didn’t meet my ridiculously long list of criteria that makes the ideal mate. I loved my husband as a companion, as a friend. He offered security in a time when I had none and I became dependent on him for the air I breathed. I took most of his rage because I thought I deserved it because I couldn’t give him the validation he wanted because it just wasn’t there. So, I would be nicer, try to be that perfect wife, but I couldn’t do it. When the marriage was over, I didn’t cry. I missed our friendship, but I didn’t miss being his wife. Matrimony was never high on my list of priorities anyway. It never has been I got married because it’s what you did; you date, you get married. I’ve only wanted that once, for about a month, and then I got really scared that I was going to ruin it and wanted to stay in one place for awhile. I’m scared of the big steps and like to stay where I am. I’ll get excited about the idea of moving forward for a little while, but then I’ll wanna stay in the happy moment, right there and just “be”, because I struggle with the idea of someone getting too close to me, wanting to get inside of my head. It scares me. Even my closest friends don’t know much about me. I claim I’m an open book, but I’m not. I am about my current life, and some of my younger years, but that’s it. I put up walls to keep people out, because I have a heightened fear of abandonment and I’m afraid if people got to know the side of me that is much darker and sadder than the socially awkward, happy go lucky dork, they won’t love me anymore. Anytime someone gets close to me, I get scared that they won’t want me anymore and end up sabotaging the whole thing. I don’t mean to…I just get…scared that if I’m not super woman and just a normal human girl, then I’m not going to be “good enough.” So I go overboard trying to be the best possible MHC so they won’t want to understand why I’ll get so scared over the tiniest thing or sometimes want to stop and be reassured that you won’t go anywhere.

Truthfully, I’ve only truly loved one man. I was attracted to him from our second meeting, so much so, that I had to keep a certain distance (as I was you know, married). He was the exception, he didn’t meet my criteria, was the opposite of everything I had ever looked for. I loved every good, bad and even cruel thing about him. Even when he tore my heart out, I loved him & blamed myself, because he wouldn’t have done it had I not deserved it. I thought he loved me, truly loved me, even though I’m a scatterbrained, sort of crazy nitwit who cries a lot. He even saw that part of me I don’t show people and he still seemed to love me. Because I thought he loved me, I would have given him anything and bent over backwards for him, maybe too much, because he was just so good in my eyes, & I wanted to make him happy. I guess I wanted so badly to make him happy so he would never have to fear getting hurt. If I got hurt, I didn’t care, as long as he knew I couldn’t hurt him ever. I believed every word he said, especially his promise to always come back for me, because even if we got the start wrong, we’d get the ending right. When he was gone (& I realized he wasn’t going to keep that promise), I felt like someone had hacked off a limb, it was like a part of me was gone & I broke down. Me, the girl who didn’t cry when her marriage fell apart, who didn’t cry at the absolute worst moment of her life, just stood there back straight, refusing to give anyone the satisfaction of showing pain, cried like a lost child who didn’t know where to turn. Sometimes I think I’ll always be lost. Never is such a short word but such a long time to live without someone. Ironically, always is a longer word & even longer time, when the one you’ll love always is also your never.

I write about the idea of love, because it fascinates me. The idea of one person who doesn’t share your DNA that you want to spend your life with, are miserable without them and better with them? It sounds so easy but it’s actually so hard. I watch people in love and wonder why it’s not easier. If you love someone, you would do anything to be with them. But no, we let our own baggage, insecurities, hangups, get in the way. We won’t swallow our pride when we fight and admit we were wrong. We don’t tell people when we’re scared.Sometimes we don’t even like that person, but we can’t live without them? People always tell me that you work to make love work, but I’ve never seen anyone do it, myself included. We just walk away when it gets a little hard, then we pretend it’s not eating away at us, but it is. I look at my foster parents, who are still in love after so many years and wonder how we can do that in a disposible world. I could, for the right person, but both people would have to want to and generally that’s not the case, even amongst most of my friends who are married. One is trying while the other isn’t.

“We have to allow ourselves to be loved by the people who really love us, the people who really matter. Too much of the time, we are blinded by our own pursuits of people to love us, people that don’t even matter, while all that time we waste and the people who do love us have to stand on the sidewalk and watch us beg in the streets! It’s time to put an end to this. It’s time for us to let ourselves be loved.”