Of non-confession confessions and wedding dresses

Time for the not-confession confession because everybody knows what I’m going to say anyway.

It’s hilariously easy for me to let my life revolve around a boy.

That said, it has begun to work in my favor. A former fling showed up. We met years and years ago, then lost touch. It was the odd email on my birthday or “Hey! I saw this article and thought it was funny!”. We started talking more over the past few weeks. The possibility of a rebound started to percolate in the back of my mind. Guess what? He’s not single. However, he isn’t the kind of guy where that might slow him down, especially given the relationship status of his current lady. In the past, if he started something, I’d be like “Eh, why not? So what if he has a married…girlfriend…thing?”. No.

I don’t share my toys.

I know open relationships work great for some people. I’m not one of them. I’ve tried, but I’m not the kind of girl who is into that sort of thing. I don’t want a guy who is into that sort of thing. Said fling is a known entity. Been there, done that (teehee!), and there would be no surprises. Except that I’m not the only one and I know I’m not the only one. He may be okay with sampling a few other things from the buffet, but I’ll sit here with my same ol’ cucumbers and ranch dressing thankyouverymuch.

Yes, I do want to get married. Yes, I do want to have babies. No, I don’t want to do it right this second.

In both of my previous long term relationships, the word “marriage” has caused many a hackle to be raised. When I was in college, it was a status symbol to be engaged either right before or right after graduation. There was a small pond next to the dining hall and if you got engaged, you got tossed in it. Almost all of my friends had been tossed in the pond by the time we walked across the stage. I felt horribly left out. It happened again when I reconnected with all my friends from high school (and made a few more). The bulk of that group got married in 2009, so not too far removed from our college years. Again, I felt left out. If they didn’t get married that year, they married their partner at the time later on.

The fact that the guy I was with was pretty vehemently against getting married only made it worse. So I looked at myself, wondered what was wrong with me, and lied. I said I didn’t want to get married either. What’s the point unless you want children or joint bank accounts? The point is I want someone to stand up in front me, my friends, and my family and promise to be my best friend and love me for the rest of our lives. I really, honestly don’t think that’s too much to ask. However, I’m not going to bust my ass to find the future Mr. Emily. Ignoring the fact entirely I’m barely removed from the end of a 4+ year relationship, it’s not worth my time right now. I especially hate online dating. I’ve know people who’ve met their spouses online or seen otherwise successful relationships. I’m thrilled it worked for you. I’ll pass. The future Mr. Emily will come wandering by sooner or later.

The same goes for kids. I want kids. I don’t approach them with the same fear I did before all my friends started to have kids. Being a professional aunt has gotten me warmed up a bit. For as much as I fancy myself iconoclastic, I’m a traditionalist at heart. I’m not going to have babies until I have a husband. Ideally, I’ll have had said husband for a while. I know myself well enough to know that I don’t have the emotional capacity to raise a child. I’m far too selfish right now. I’m pissy when I get woken up at 3a because the cat stepped on my head. I’d be even worse getting woken up at 3a, then having to get out of bed, sit for god knows how long to get the small human back to sleep, then try and get back to sleep myself. Thus, also, why having a husband is damn useful. Babies also aren’t cheap. I like buying pretty outfits or spending money on my hair. I’m not ready for the kind of financial commitment that comes with one of those little buggers. I will, however, love the day where I can watch my father playing on the floor with his grandchild(ren) pulling the same shit he did with me when I was young.

Just by allowing myself to watch the bad habit start to come back, I was able to use it. I don’t want to just be another member of the harem. I don’t want to compromise my own feelings and wants because some boy is either too scared or too assheaded to take the next step. I don’t want to have to lie about any of it because I think that’s what someone else wants to hear. As my BFF has beaten me over the head with for the past month – never settle.

Now Former Boy would always throw a fit whenever I mentioned I preferred to know how a movie was going to end so I didn’t waste my time or money if I didn’t like how it ended. He said you can’t enjoy the ending unless you’ve gone through the story first. For argument’s sake, the above is how my story will end. Now how am I going to get there? I don’t know, but I intend on having a hell of a (good) time getting there. I may not even have to take up alligator wrestling or platform diving.

XOXO!

Of mood swings and keeping your hands to yourself

There was an incident at work last week which could have resulted in disciplinary action against myself and one of my employees. It was a completely bullshit issue and didn’t result in anything other than getting us both pissed. When I was letting her vent, I had an epiphany. She said something about people in other areas violating the dress code & not getting written up. This had no relation to the issue we were supposedly getting written up for. It hit me.

Defend yourself, but don’t change the subject.

I’m very guilty of this. I’ll get in trouble for something & immediately try to find something worse that someone else is guilty of, then point to them. “Well, I did this, but she came in with her boobs hanging out and nothing happened to her!”. What did that accomplish? Nothing. If you didn’t fuck up, defend yourself, but don’t make an example of someone else. The same applies for when you do fuck up. Dragging someone else into it, especially someone who is completely irrelevant to the situation at hand, doesn’t help your case.

Last fall, I was dealing with a royal fuck up. I was prepared to stand in front of the board of directors and explain what happened. It didn’t end up coming to that, but I was willing to explain myself without pointing fingers. It wasn’t entirely my fault, but I had a heavy hand in it. As much as it sucks being a grown up and admitting our mistakes, it looks worse to try and shift the blame. In this case, the accusation was unfounded and flat out unfair. I was given the chance to defend us and simply stated the facts. I didn’t blame anyone else. I didn’t drag other areas into it. The facts of the matter outweighed the small error that turned into the threat of something that would be in our HR files for all eternity. I also had a little help from my friends. ๐Ÿ˜€

On my mental health front, it comes and goes. I’ve been largely keeping up with my “to do” list. My knee has started acting up, so exercise has been difficult. I have been showering or taking a bath daily, brushing my teeth, putting on makeup, and keeping myself groomed. I’m either writing or blogging every day. If I’m watching TV, I’ll have my knitting with me. Still keeping plans with friends on a somewhat regular basis.My sleeping is hit or miss. I try to listen to my body as best I can. I was asleep at 945 on Thursday night. The night before, I kept having nightmares and waking up every few hours. When I would start to move, that would wake up the kitten & she would keep me awake until she settled down again. I’m still having mood swings, but my therapist said that was normal. I tracked my moods just in the course of one day and I hit 5 or 6 different emotions. I do the best I can with what I have. I’ve found that going to work has helped. If I just sit around or lie in bed all day, I stew. Stewing is only beneficial for tough meat. I would like to remain tough, thank you.

I have my people I check in with daily. I have a very good friend keeping an eye on me at work. I really can’t express how grateful I am for all the people who love me, put up with me, or just can’t figure out how to get rid of me yet. When I’m angry or upset, I remind myself of where I was 5 years ago. I couldn’t feel anything. I couldn’t even cry. I was constantly having seizures (though I didn’t know they were seizures at the time). I was doing dangerous things because I couldn’t think of anything else to do. When I’m sobbing over a broken nail or spilling my coffee, it’s hard to remember that. Then I can look down at my arms and remember how far I’ve come. At least I can cry over a broken nail or spilled coffee. I’m not staring at a bloody stump and thinking “Hrm, maybe I should do something about that bleeding.”. Sometimes it’s not about what you can do, but what you can’t do.

XOXO!

Of shameless plugs and duct tape

For those who enjoy bloggers who are keeping it real, allow me to refer you to my friend Elizabeth’s blog. She’s an old friend, a fantastic writer, and all around Awesome Chickยฎ. Head on over and show her some love. God knows she’s talked me off the ledge a time or two. Her most recent post got me thinking…

I’ve written plenty about blogs that are all about self love, improving yourself, life coaching, etc. There’s nothing wrong with that. There’s a market for it. I frequent several blogs with that overarching theme. I’ve written plenty of posts along those lines right here. What rubs me the wrong way is the tacit understanding that it’s all about “fixing” something. I’m not a flat tire or a broken hinge. I don’t need to be fixed, please and thank you. It’s all too easy to get sucked down the rabbit hole and before you realize it, you’re headed off to Home Depot for some WD-40 and duct tape.

Carrie and Elizabeth both make excellent points that the ugly, the dark, the smelly, the not so pretty parts of ourselves is where the real beauty (oddly enough) can find a place to grow. Sitting in the dirt mourning whatever you’ve lost, be it physical or emotional, is fertile ground. It doesn’t need to be fixed. We don’t need to be fixed. After all, shit makes excellent fertilizer. It takes a lot of balls to show off the scars, bruises, lumps, and broken pieces. To get anywhere worth getting, shit is inevitable. You may fall face first in it. You may just step in it. It’s a hell of a lot easier to get up when there’s someone there with you to offer a hand.

Take my hand, if we be friends, and put down the WD-40 and duct tape. You’re not broken. No need to be fixed.

XOXO!

Of major life events and bucket lists

Everything in life is a relationship. Y’all know I love to make analogies to romantic relationships all the time. Right now, I can’t be in a committed one with dance.

I got a wedding invitation last week. A friend of mine is getting married in October. I’ve had her save the date up on my wall for months. You know how things tend to blend into the background when you stare at them too long? That was the case with me. I can’t take a week off for dance when I need that time off to see my friend get married. I’m also planning a trip up to Virginia to spend time with my niece for her birthday. In the grand scheme of things, I would feel like a horrible person for missing her wedding. I haven’t seen my niece since she was 2 months old. She’ll be 2 next month. I don’t want to put myself in a position where I have to be extra careful with my PTO. Doing the Friday night – Sunday afternoon turn around SUCKS. My friends and family are more important than a week of dance.

I’ve been wasting money for months on memberships that I don’t use. My schedule and my life just aren’t conducive to any kind of lengthy commitment. It’s much better for me to have a drop in card that I can use when I have the time. We need to be in a more casual relationship. It doesn’t mean I love it any less, there are just other things that have a higher priority. I’ve known for a long time that I needed to scale it back. I don’t know about y’all, but I get a heavy feeling in my chest. Now I know where the term “heart sinks” comes from. I try to ignore it, but that doesn’t make it go away. Who knew? I have to accept it sooner or later. It’s hard enough to walk away from a relationship where nothing went wrong. It’s even harder to walk away from a relationship where you still care, but it just isn’t working out. Might as well rip the bandaid off now.

As for fitness options, Boy & I are well on our way to the 5k. We started Week 2 on Saturday. My ultimate goal is to participate in the Disney Princess Half Marathon in February. I’ll be up to a 10k by the end of October. I’ll be up to half marathon distance about a month before the race. It’s definitely a realistic goal. There are tons of apps that will coach you through the various distances. My dad has done everything from a 5k to a marathon and his best distance is a 10k. It can’t hurt to try every distance to see what happens. For all I know, I may turn out to be a marathon runner. Plus, it’s something to check off the bucket list. ๐Ÿ˜‰ If someone had told me 6 months ago that I’d be looking forward to running every week, I would have thought they were insane. I think this “runner’s high” thing is real. Even though we’re panting and sweating out 5 pounds of water weight, there’s still the *high five* fuck yeah we did it!* feeling. So we only jogged for 90 seconds, but we did it. Baby steps.

You remember that comment I made about completing a triathlon? That was a real goal I set back in 2010. I went about it all wrong. I thought because I was doing CrossFit at the time (terrible idea, btw, but another blog post for another time), I was 100% equipped to handle an endurance event. Yeah, no. I burned myself out largely before I even began. I had no idea how to properly train. It’s still something I want to do, but one thing at a time. I *know* there’s an app for that. I doubt I’ll hit Ironman level (2.4 mile swim, 112 mile bike, & 26.2 run), but who knows? I be crazy sometimes. The sprint distance (1/2 mile swim, 12 mile bike, & 5k) is a much more reasonable goal. ๐Ÿ˜›

Good bye for the moment, dance. It was fun.

XOXO!