Oh My God...Here I Am...Once Again

Life sure can hand you some seismic twists. I was a fool to get lulled into the confidence of thinking that these sorts of things couldn't happen to me any longer. I was a fool to think I was immune to the effects.

The last couple of years I've settled into a pretty consistent pattern. I get up, I go to work, I hang with friends, I may play some video games or watch some TV, I go to bed and get up and do it again. Life has been very simple, steadfast, and predictable. Men have been peripheral in my life and I've been happy with it that way. They come when I want them to and go when I need them to and -- unlike my younger years -- I haven't needed them to complete me, to define me, or to validate me. I have been alone, indeed, but only rarely lonely. The sense of peace and freedom springing from this has been a new-ish frontier I've been exploring with pleasure and I've (hopefully) absorbed many lessons about how to move through the remaining decades of my life.

I've wondered now and again during the last few years how I'd react if anything came along to disturb the surface water sense of familiar I've surrounded myself with. I wondered now and again if, like the proverbial drunk, I would forget everything I have learned, pitch far off the wagon, and fall right back into old ways and old patterns. I'd then assure myself that the time for me to allow myself the luxury of self-deception had passed with my divorce and my subsequent acceptance of both my physical limitations and the emotional consequences they play in my relationships. I'd tell myself that.

Then, yesterday, I got a note from the past -- from someone all but gone in my life. It seems that he is now doing what he should have done six years ago and he and his wife are splitting. The news hit me a bit stronger than I thought it would. I didn't expect to actually "feel" the impact of it like I did and there was a part of me that was very disappointed with myself for those feelings. I kept talking myself down from going onto ledges I didn't need to go. Yesterday was another one of those learning experiences.

Today I feel much more level. I've regained a bit of the equilibrium I lost in the aftermath of the news. I am not the same person I was six years ago and neither is he. He will move on and find the path he needs to be on and it won't be one that contains me, at least not in any sense other than in a (perhaps) different sort of friendship. I cannot give him any more now than I could then -- the difference being, now I'm aware of that. I really do accept myself more now. This, at least, is good.

I also learned not to be so cocky. There are still wagons I can fall off of. I suppose only time can be the final determinator.

P.S. = the man I mentioned in my last post, my co-worker that I went for coffee with? We've spent more time together both with others and by ourselves. He's a nice man and is pleasant to be around but I feel no desire to take the relationship any other place than it is. I think he deserves a moniker here so I will call him CB. This makes sense to me for reasons I won't bother to share here.

Song: "Return Of The Mack" by Mark Morrison. Lyrics here:
http://www.rnbhaven.com/90s-music/lyrics/Return-Of-The-Mack/M/236/5482

Let's Talk About Sex, Baby

Earlier this week the ex texted me and wanted me to meet with him and Yo at a local restaurant to talk over some things about the kiddo. It was in regards to an interesting dilemma that I'm sure many parents of gay and lesbian teens face -- "should she have sleepovers with friends that are girls?" We had a long talk about it. Some things were said that I took exception to (mostly about the general concept as opposed to the kiddo herself) and by evening's end things were worked out to a conclusion that was acceptable to all parties, including the kiddo.

The things I took exception to were about sex in general. I was surprised that I took exception to them, actually, and while listening to the ex and Yo talk I was quietly amused at myself at how far I've come in the last three years since my divorce.

The ex and Yo upheld that double standard -- the thing that chafed at me as a young woman and chafes at me doubly so now. A son? Well, he's supposed to have sex or at least isn't crucified if he does. A daughter? We taught her better than that, and oh no, he's a whore! Grrr. Something else said made me wonder how getting someone pregnant was less tragic than getting pregnant. Even when reminded that our kiddo wouldn't get pregnant I could see that the issue of his daughter's sexuality (not being lesbian, just being a female!) was an uncomfortable one for him.

Female sexuality. Ah yes. We're supposed to be the picky choosy ones. Held to a better standard of behavior and dismissed or denigrated if we don't uphold it. It reminded me of when the ex and I were dating and I slept with him on the first night, but rebuffed him for a few weeks after that. Some months later he remarked that he had at first held no respect for me until I began to rebuff him. I remembered how livid I was that he felt he could sit in judgement of me while reserving no equal judgment concerning his own behavior. Objectively I understand the underlying concern -- "if she'll give it away to me so easily, than how can I be certain she won't give it to someone else or that I'm special?" but sujectively, it is nothing but hypocrisy to me. I guess since I have changed my attitude about sex from 'only done when in love with grave seriousness" to "enjoy it as the pleasure that it is as such things may be fleeting," this sort of insecurity is something I have little patience with.

Hand me the bad parent of the year award right now if you wish but I wasn't overly concerned about the idea of my daughter having sex with a girlfriend. She's 17, she knows about STDs, her risk of pregnancy is nil, and realistically I know that a few hours grabbed at someone's house hanging out of an evening is just as easy for a rendezvous as anything else. She's lesbian but she's also a girl, and females (broadly speaking) are not as indiscriminately sex-focused as males. Whereas men think sexual thoughts dozens of times a day, women can and do go days without having a sexual thought. I am simply not as concerned about my almost-adult daughter's choices.

That said, I know she's in a vastly different place than I am. I'm careful not to share the breadth of my sexual life with my daughter just yet. She needs to learn about her own reactions to situations and how she feels before she tries to emulate the more world-weary attitudes that I have as a 40+ woman. She's not there yet. She doesn't need me to confuse the issue. I give her age-appropriate answers when she asks and share my thoughts that sex should be and is a very important and intimate facet of a relationship. I let her know that compatibility is vitally important.

In other somewhat related news, the ex and Yo have been trying to get pregnant, something I've known about for the last couple months. She's been taking prenatal vitamins and all. Well, it appears that they've been having difficulties and she's saying it can't be her because she had a baby just five years ago while it's been 17 for him so she's wanting to get him tested. He'll have to go do a happy in a cup, I suppose. Ha! He asked me if I thought they might've clipped something during his testicular tortion surgery about 15 yrs back. Maybe, but in doing a bit of research it's more likely his body produced anti-sperm antibodies, something that is apparently a side-effect of the tortion and surgery. Who knows? That's for them to worry about....

I've been playing about with the new templates and will for a while. Bear with me!

((Song: "Let's Talk About Sex" by Salt-n-Pepa. Lyrics here:
http://www.popculturemadness.com/Music/Lyrics/Lets-Talk-About-Sex-Salt-n-Pepa.html))

We’d Like To Help You Learn To Help Yourself

There's a certain amount of freedom that comes to you as you get older -- at least for me personally. As a girl and young woman I was very rigid about what I thought was proper behavior and very hard on myself/good with excuses when I didn't live up to it. I'm now finding that rigidity is loosening a lot. I'm more sure of myself and less concerned with what others may think about what I do or feel. I know what I need and how I operate. It's funny, though. Years ago I would have looked at the current me and thought she was a slut.

Why? Because I was an idealist. I had a certain idea of how love, sex and romance was and how the three were supposed to be intertwined. I think most women suffer from this ideal to some extent and the differences come in how we choose to resolve it. In my case, I believed sex without true emotion was empty and meaningless. I found little enjoyment in it and no reason to participate in it. Though I still feel sex with emotion is preferable, my determination of the emotions I find acceptable has broadened. I've learned that I'm now capable of more separation than I was capable of in my younger years. I attribute this to the fact that I no longer need a man to help me define who I am. Sadly, I think men manage to go through that journey a lot faster than we women do but we do get there, usually in our late 30s and early 40s. I think it's the origin of why women in that age group are termed 'at their sexual peak.'

Now my regular readers know that I have medical issues regarding my sexual function and also know my feelings about those issues, so I won't rehash much of it here again unless I need to augment my discussion. I had a visitor a few weekends ago, a younger man of 30. I've known him for years though we'd never met face to face, but never got to know him well until we got reacquainted about six months ago. We now spend a lot of time together online -- he's smart and funny, easy to correspond with, considerate, and a bit shy until you get to know him. He's also not my type, for many reasons. He's a smoker. He's got a few personality tics that would drive me crazy over the long term. And he's a large guy, whereas I prefer skinnier guys. So yeah, initially I didn't consider him. I'd invited him to stay at my place over a weekend in which we'd be traveling together to meet a number of others and we ended up having a day's layover before he flew home. As it turned out, it was an interesting evening indeed.

I won't go any further into detail except to say two things. I took him a few places he'd never went before -- and plan to take him a few more in the future -- and he gave me the sense that I was appreciated regardless of my limitations, something I definitely needed. I had a great time. Mrs. Robinson indeed! He left and we've laughed and talked about it since. No strings, no worries. Just a good time. I woke up calm, I smiled about it, and I haven't stopped smiling each time I think about it.

So I'm finally moving towards real peace with this aspect of myself. I have a few people to thank for easing me into it over the years. HD for sure, he was the first to expose me to the possibility that it was not something I needed to hide from but explore and be aware of, and that it was okay to be that way. A couple trips and skips later -- a few times of feeling vaguely guilty or ashamed -- and finally this young guy comes along, this young guy I would have looked at in the past and never considered at all, but am now so glad that I did. I finally got pushed over that edge. It's about time I fully embraced and accepted the fact that my current reality is different from my ancient ideal, and that instead of whining any longer about what isn't, decide to truly enjoy what is.

((Song: "Mrs Robinson" by Simon & Garfunkel. Lyrics here:
http://www.wbr.com/paulsimon/lyrics/mrs_robinson.html ))

Now That I Am Starting To Remember Who I Am

They say, "Ignorance is bliss." They also say, "Know Thyself."

Well....which is it? You can't have both.

Ignorance of sitations and events -- such as when someone you love takes a risk or if you did without realizing how close you came to danger -- can be blissful. It's often easier to accept loss of control if you're not even aware that you were out of it. But I don't buy the saying when it comes to self-knowledge. You want to stay ignorant, live in a fog? Really? You think that leads to bliss? More often it leads to confusion. You might lash out or self-flagellate and be miserable and not even know why. How sad that sounds. If you were living in misery wouldn't you want to know why you were?

Knowing thyself is a long process often fraught with peril and many people never even get there, but the knowledge you earn when you do isn't even the really tricky part. It's what you do with the knowledge that counts. Making the conscious effort to take the knowing and translate it into action. Making choices based on your authentic self and not the self you wish you were, the one you want others to think you are, or the one you desire to be. Facing what you know is true instead of dodging it.

Some people willingly throw themselves down in the middle between an obstacle and a solution and begin waging a battle royale between the way they think they need to live to be viewed as "right" and the way they know they need to live to be right with themselves. Some people do it because they give too much power to others and are too concerned with how others would view their behavior to allow their authentic self free reign. Others do it because of internal struggles, most of which have their origins in the dynamic duo of pride and shame. Perhaps buried mommy or daddy issues manifest by defining a range of restrictive behaviors that can't be indulged in (even if these would be beneficial in their situation) because their parents exhibited them and pride won't allow them to be "like" their parents. It might simply be a desire to maintain a particular self-image at all costs.

Put in plainest terms, when you behave in a manner consistent with what you know is good for you, you'll feel good as you're doing it. This is true even if you're doing something difficult. If you know that the reasons you're doing it are consistent with your authentic self you'll only rarely wake up in the middle of the night wishing you could be doing something else. You'll rarely walk through your day feeling angry, resentful or stifled. You might feel exhausted, stretched thin, or worried you might not find the strength within you to carry on but you'll rarely feel a deep sense of "not-right" if you're doing it for the right reasons for yourself. You'll take pride in the trial and in the knowing that when it's all over the doing will have sustained you instead of depleted you. You'll feel better having done it.

If you don't, though -- if you're consistently miserable and resentful, if you trudge through your day with lethargy or a sense of hopelessness, your heart a bird fluttering against its cage -- what does that say about the scales you're weighing everything on? If you keep telling yourself that you're doing the right thing but wonder why your mind and your heart don't jump on board waving that banner, then what behavior are you exhibiting?

What's with the martyr complexes? And why do we think it's so noble to be a martyr?

Whether you martyr yourself for others or you martyr yourself to outdated ideas of who you "should" be while blinking rapidly past who you are, the act of martyrdom brings poison to your internal table. At first you might say to yourself that you believe you're doing it out of charity and you don't expect anything from anyone in return. The reality of it is that you feel there's been an exchange made. Since the coin you've delivered is the sacrifice of a portion of your authentic self you expect to see some sort of tangible return, something of equal value from those you gave so much up for. This expectation rarely comes to fruition and it exists even if no one else is ever aware of what you sold.

What, then, is a valuable return? Initially it's appreciation or respect. At first the "thank you's" and the "I know this must be hard for you's" are enough to sustain you. Initially. But at best appreciation from others is a temporary poultice across a wound that never quite heals as long as the effort of acting in a manner inconsistent with deepest needs and emotions remains.

As time goes on more and more must be done to cover the wound. Whatever appreciation you get isn't enough. You start to feel like the world owes you something. You know you gave your coin willingly and it shames you to feel like you do but you expected equal value here! You think that someone else can give it to you and you get frustrated when it doesn't work that way. Of course it doesn't, and you know why? Because the only coin that really DOES matter doesn't come from without. The container you're trying to refill has only one existing source of fuel and that fuel springs from an internal source. It's like replacing gasoline with propane. You can putter along for only so long before you start seizing up.

The best example I can think of is a mother who whines that nothing she's ever done is appreciated. We all know someone like this -- miserable, petty, deeply unhappy, demanding and whiny. No amount of external appreciation is enough to wipe away the internal truth of a life that has been sacrificed for others. It's a gaping hole that can never be filled in. It's like quicksand....

Is it any wonder that martyrdom leads to misery?

((Song: "Starting To Remember" by Duran Duran. Lyrics here:
http://www.mattsmusicpage.com/duranduran/lstarting.htm ))

Yes! Yes! Yes!

You just gotta read this!

It Goes To Show You Never Can Tell

It's come to my attention that I've neglected this little blog (thanks, BFF!) It's true, I have -- my attention's been elsewhere for a month or so.

No, it's not a man. Perish the thought! Besides, there's only one man I can think of that I'd bother making time and effort for at this juncture in my life and he's simply not available. What's that they say? C'est la vie? Yes, indeed.

My excuse, while boring, is a true one. I've been drawn back into the world of research. I'm not a great multitasker and tend to get a tad bit obsessive about my interests; I sink myself into each one of them. I have a friend that tells me it's lucky I was never remotely interested in the world of drugs because with a personality like mine I would've went whole hog. Maybe she's right. Luckily for me I have an even greater fear of relinquishing control.

Speaking of that, another friend of mine made a comment about my control issues the other day. HD and I were talking about this very thing and he said that was probably why most of my sexual fantasies revolved around being handcuffed, held down or being forced into submitting in some way. (For the sake of discussion, let's put aside my physical limitations for the moment and focus upon my mental environment.) Hm. Well, trust without fear equals desire, doesn't it? I can't find the first ingredient anywhere and if I did, would I recognize it because I can't seem to shake off the second? Perhaps that's where much of my desire has run off to.

I'm also surprised at my evolving attitude towards sex as a whole. For most of my life I always believed sex was an expression of love and you didn't do the one unless you felt the other; guilt would accompany any partaking of it without the prerequisite feelings of love. I'd sometimes even talk myself into thinking I had a more meaningful relationship with someone to avoid feeling that guilt. I've since admitted to myself that sex was something more as well. The actual act of sex -- while meaningful to me as a shared experience -- isn't a compelling, fixed need over the long term in and of itself. As much as is does represent that expression of love, it was also a vehicle to measure my sense of lack of control in a relationship. My desire for it was inversely proportional to how much I felt insecure about the stability of a union. The more stable something is, the less I need to use sex as a glue. This is the nature of my beast.

I've noticed over time that I have less need to maneuver myself out of the guilt I felt in sexual involvement. I don't have to justify my desire for physical expression by couching it in the sugar-coated terms of my youth. It is what it is. However, I wonder how much of the shift from "sex only in love" to "do it if it feels good" has come about because I'm resistant to allow anyone near enough to matter. I can now find a detachment about it that I never used to be able to find and this experience has simultaneously fascinated and repelled me. It gives me freedom of a kind I've never had before -- which is wonderful -- but at the same time it makes me despair of my ability to form any real attachments. Hm, perhaps some parts of the "sex in love" equation do still linger in my jaded romantic psyche.

Ah yes.....about that last bit. I'm so frightened of my capacity to let love disintegrate underneath me that I think it's less risky to live a solitary life. I've learned I seem to appreciate the things I can't have better than the ones that I do and once I've gained something it's only a matter of time before it loses that "new car" feeling and I start noticing the nicks and dings. What is that all about? Internal sabotage -- my projection of the fear within that allows me to keep people at a comfortable distance -- or merely a facet of who I am? Sometimes I think (hope? pray?) that it isn't and that I'm throwing that baby out with the bathwater, so to speak. Other times I'm absolutely certain I can't remain in love with someone long term because I'm not capable of shaping its form and adapting it to the ways I change over time.

Realistically the truth -- as it usually is -- is somewhere in the middle. That pendulum will finally come to rest and I'll arrive at that truth in its time.

((Song: "You Never Can Tell" by Chuck Berry. Lyrics here:
http://people.cs.ubc.ca/~davet/music/track/PULPFICT_ST1/PULPFICT_ST1-09.html ))

I Appreciate The Best But I'm Settling For Less

What's good enough and what's a dealbreaker? When we learn about something that shakes us to our core, how do we know if it's something we should walk away from because it's indicative of a pattern or if it's something we can adapt to?

I think a large part of that answer lies in how well we know ourselves and how secure we are in being who we are without needing something external to help validate us. Of course we all play roles in life and often we do because we feel we must in order to be accepted, respected, appreciated or loved. But like an actor who typecasts himself by only taking on the roles he's sure he can do, we can get so comfortable in our own performances that we forget what it means to draw lines in the sand and use the words, "No, this isn't acceptable to me and I won't live with that because I respect myself too much."

Yet…..that’s the problem, isn’t it? Self-esteem gets sucked out the airplane window. When people look to other people to tell them who they are, how can they truly understand the meaning of self-respect? They accept what other people do to them or say to them because somehow they think that it's their due and they tune out the only judgment that matters -- their own. I’m not speaking of the daily injustices we all face. I am speaking instead of the people that, at pivotal moments, turn down the volume on the internal clamour of pain or anger that rises in response to an attack on their self-respect from a source that refuses to consider compromise. Their fear of aloneness overwhelms their need for self preservation.

At that moment they have two choices; sell their self-respect to the offender or step back and refuse to allow themselves to be misrepresented or mishandled. The latter may cost them a friendship or a business deal or a relationship. The former? It may not seem like it’s such a bad trade. They manage to maintain the status quo and they don’t seem to “lose” anything at all. But ah, what they are really doing is the slow leak. It’s like a pinhole in the artery that nobody can detect on the ultrasound. It’s essentially whoring themselves out in fits and spurts, giving a little here and a little there until there’s nothing left. The former is much more tragic. It might very well cost them themselves.

((Song: "Looking For The Next Best Thing" by Warren Zevon. Lyrics here:
http://www.oldielyrics.com/lyrics/warren_zevon/looking_for_the_next_best_thing.html))

The Gap Between Crack and Thunder Is Closing In

I had an interesting weekend.

I went to visit a man I've known for about fifteen years now, off and on. Through the years we'd get in touch periodically but the last time we actually saw each other was about ten years ago. He and I have been back in touch for a couple of months and have been speaking on the phone every once in a while, catching up with our lives in the interim. We kept talking about getting together for lunch but our schedules never seemed to sync.

He left me a message on Friday and I called him back later that evening. Finally he asked me what I was doing on Saturday, saying that his next three or four weekends were booked. I told him I was free so we agreed to get together.

As I hung up I knew he had more than lunch on his mind.

Long story short, I was right.

The interesting part is that I'm in uncharted waters. I've always had this separation in my mind -- being friends was casual and relaxing and they were people you could be close to and hung out with. Dating, however.....now that was serious. I've always been the type that never wasted my time unless it was going to "go somewhere."

This won't, though. I don't want it to. He doesn't want it to. There are a hundred reasons why that's so and there's no need for me to explain further. The proof will ultimately be in the pudding. That being said, it's more than a little offputting to know that going in. I feel like I'm suddenly at odds with my fundamental self. There's a heavy whiff of that "so then why even bother?' feeling skating through me.

I know, I know. So okay, here's the thing. I'm trying to color outside the lines for once.

((Song: "Sometimes" by James. Lyrics here:
http://www.asklyrics.com/display/James/Sometimes_Lyrics/152106.htm ))

You Tried Your Best But You Were Only Being You

I've always believed my ex was a bit more emotionally developed than many men, but now I've begun to wonder how much of this development was his own and how much was dependent upon my feeding him the proper signals.

Some months ago the ex and I had a heated phone conversation about his impending nuptials and how fast he'd moved with Yo, and some of my behavior during that call was something I wasn't proud of. I ended up revealing more of my hurt feelings and regrets than I cared to and after it was over and we'd apologized to each other I resolved that I wouldn't let myself lose it like that again. I have my pride.

Since then I've kept that internal promise though it's been much harder recently. Their marriage has stirred up that sleeping giant. Screw friendly; civil is about all I've been able to muster up. One would think that ex knows me well enough to see through my facade but he gave me some cause to wonder last night when he invited me to a dinner at his next-door neighbor's house. This next-door neighbor had many dinners over at his place with me and the ex, and now he wants me to go over there and share dinner with the old neighbor and the new wife? Can you say awkward?

And oh yes, there was the great moment when her boy called my ex "Daddy!"

Maybe later on I'll be able to share a dinner over there but right now I'm too raw and I don't think he gets that because unlike me, he's got distractions and this new family to help him funnel away or cover over any underlying emotions. My reactions to his marriage probably won't make much sense to him -- after all, I was the one that left! I was the one that didn't try to save anything or didn't want to! I was the one that wanted him to find a happier relationship! -- all of that is true in and of itself. But as in anything involving the heart, there's much more to it. I just don't want to have to explain all of it to him.

So I refused dinner. I don't think I could have said no any faster without being rude. I might have skated along the other side of rude even though I tried not to. I left soon thereafter and when he reached around to hug me I pulled away ever so slightly and he just ended up patting my back. I said a quick goodbye and made my escape.

The only way I can continue to do this is to distance myself from the lot of them. I didn't have to before he got married but I do now. I don't like crying myself to sleep at night and I can't let it get to me like that for too much longer. The only way I can keep that from happening is to pull away. The more I cling to the what was, the less I am able to deal with the what it is now, and I have to do that for my own well-being.

I'm sure he'll notice the distance eventually. Maybe he'll even understand it. Hopefully he'll understand it without being told and that for right now and for some time from now, sacrificing the closeness we had is the price that's got to be paid. We can talk about our kiddo. Time will do the rest.


((Song: "Runaground" by James. Lyrics here:
http://www.cmt.com/lyrics/james/runaground/1382514/lyrics.jhtml ))

Nobody Told Me There'd Be Days Like These

I spoke to BiB last night for the first time in months and he stayed up a little later than usual talking to me. It was nice. Seems he's doing fine. He mentioned that it was an odd coincidence and he thought it funny I should pop on to Trillian after such an extended period away since he'd received a gift from another character, a chest that I'd instructed he be given in the online RPG we used to play together. I mentioned I was surprised he hadn't trashed it and he said no, he'd placed it in one of his chests. So there it is taking up space, something he really hates. That speaks to me. It's always a slight surprise to learn -- no matter how often it happens or how much wisdom you gather as you age -- that what you think and what someone else thinks are not the same.

I'm having a few troubles with the ex being married. I know eventually it'll fade but right now it's right there in my face. I was thinking today about my reaction to it and then wondering how it might feel and how I might react when he and Yo have their own child. I was thinking that it might be harder than I care to think it will.

I know I'm being selfish but in this odd way I always harbored a belief that kiddo would be enough for the ex -- maybe because she's enough for me -- and that he wouldn't want or need to have anything else. Doing it again seems like saying the first time wasn't good enough. Even though I know he views it as expanding her life and giving her other options and I have no doubts that it will, I suppose it just isn't how I'm built. I remember the feeling of having her and how it opened my heart in a certain way that no one before or since had ever been able to do. I remember being very vulnerable. It's no secret I have fears of intimacy -- deep ones -- but with her, I had absolutely no choice or control. It was a roller coaster I couldn't stop and get out of. It was the sccariest and simultaneously most fulfilling thing I had ever experienced.

That, and if I'm honest....having a child together was something we shared. He and I. Our child. We were on that particular roller coaster of fright and exhilaration together and he was the only person that ever really saw me exposed in that manner.

Even though I've wanted him to have what I couldn't give him, it's different now that it's happening and I'm actually feeling him receding from me instead of merely contemplating its possibility. Even though I know rationally that he's not as shallow as these things I am mentally throwing at his feet, my deepest insecurities and fears come out and I translate them into concepts I can understand and nuggets of blame I can place. Mental darts of accusation designed to encourage my own self-pity. Places where I can rest my troubles at someone else's feet instead of picking them up and owning their weight myself. I know that most of this isn't anything HE does or doesn't do but how I'm allowing my own issues to bob to the surface. He's not my husband any longer. I have no chains I can bind him with and no control over his life. I chose this and I was right to choose it. I can't decide to cut him loose and want him to live his life and be happy and still expect him to mourn me and stay true to my memory. It's my responsibility to deal with the small childish part of me that wants that to be so.

I guess I don't really grasp the idea of wanting another child. Who knows, maybe my heart just isn't big enough...or I am less inclined to take risks. Lord knows my choices of men have been 'safe' enough. In my case, many things I attempt to do twice end up cheapening the experience of the first time or rendering it more commonplace. In my heart of hearts, thinking about him having another child makes me feel that our marriage and our child will become less special to him. But again, I'm imprinting my reactions onto him. Having kiddo was the most unique of experiences and I can't imagine caring to repeat it and risk taking away from the memory of that uniqueness by blurring it with or overlapping another.

Then the impatient part of me says to the rest of me: Does it make you feel like you loved him better if you sit and mope about this? You acted like a bitch and when you had the chance you didn't want it. You knew it wasn't right for you. Of course you can afford to act like a martyr for love now that you're 'safe' and you don't really have to risk anything or feel obligated to make any effort. When you were in it, you knew it wasn't really worth it enough to you. So are you angry at him or are you more angry at yourself? Have you not yet reconciled or accepted who you are? And why on earth do you expect him to continue to worship at your altar?

Yes, there is that. That part of me makes a lot more sense and it's the part I'll eventually listen to.

Or to streamline the entire thing: It's like I'm standing at the gravestone of our marriage. The things we did -- get married, have a child -- those things have been done. Pay the proper respect to the dead and don't sully memory by trying to make replacements.

I know that eventually in order to truly move forward, I'm going to have to stop living like a widow. I'm just not quite ready yet.

((Song: "Nobody Told Me" by John Lennon. Lyrics here:
http://www.bagism.com/lyrics/lennon-legend-lyrics.html#NobodyToldMe ))

It's An Institute You Can't Disparage...

Shopping with my kiddo was the theme for this past weekend. We went shopping a total of three times without dragging of feet or whining about having to actually go, which -- I believe -- is a record for us. The first time was for a bra. The second was at this cool vintage shop in the arts district. The third was at a ritzy department store's discount outlet. I'll speak of the bra last.

Now my kiddo normally lives in overly baggy jeans and skate shoes and hoodies two sizes too big. Most people who meet her think she's a boy and with good reason. Her hair is cropped short to meet JROTC regs, she doesn't wear makeup, and she wears sports bras that smush her down.

Anyway, she's starting to get interested in "cooler" clothing and things that fit more to size. Yay! We went into a vintage clothing store in the local arts district because it was a way to walk off our root beer drinking binge (kiddo is a root beer fiend and this place had 28 varieties!) We were looking around and I spotted this vintage long-sleeved b&w Lanvin shirt with a street scene on it. On another rack was a v-necked vest, black and shiny "snakeskin" style, that zipped in the back. Both were size 2/4-ish and when kiddo tried them on together they looked fantastic! She fell in love and I knew right then I'd get them both for her xmas present. A little steep, but whatever. I rarely buy anything any more and it was just a great pleasure for me to do it. It's almost like I'm living vicariously through her because she's got the body to wear that stuff and when I had it, I never took advantage.

The third time we went shopping was at a local department store discount outlet. It was during this trip that she tried on a hot pink Anne Klein blazer that looked smashing but was just not cheap enough for my budget after the Lanvin. Kiddo did happen to mention that she'd decided she was happy that her dad was marrying Yo and that the prospect of having a little brother wasn't as bad as she'd originally thought. She told me Yo's son had been talking nonstop to the babysitter about kiddo and that made her feel really good. I told her I thought it was good that she felt that way. And I do. Well, for the most part.

And oh yes.....my ex is getting married this weekend. It's why we went shopping for the bra.

My kiddo is in the wedding but not as one of the bridesmaids, thank goodness. It is sooooo not her style. She's playing the best (wo)man role, standing next to her father. Yo took kiddo out a month or so ago and bought her a black tux to wear that can be used for formal events later on. It's a woman's tux and cut to fit as such -- my kiddo is taller than I am with a lithe frame that very much resembles Katherine Moenning's (who plays Shane from the L Word.) The shirt she got to wear underneath is fuchsia and kiddo loves it. However, the sports bras my kiddo wears just don't work with the shape of the tux so when I picked her up she and I had to go buy a new bra, the first 'real' one she needed to actually size. Coulda knocked me over with a feather when the size she eventually needed was 34D!

All this aside, my feelings concerning the wedding are like a soup, really -- you throw in a little of this and a little of that and even if they don't fit together originally, eventually they make something different. I'm relieved, angry, sad, hopeless, bitter, amused, happy for him, hopeful it works out, replaced, jealous, revolted.....the list goes on and on. I try them on and throw them away like suits. I never know which one I'll be wearing on any given day.

I find myself wondering how soon it will be before Yo gets knocked up. Ex isn't getting any younger and if he waits too long he'll be 60 before the kid would even be out of high school. Kiddo might be getting a half-sibling as well as a step-sibling. There's this part of me that wonders why he feels the need to change what our little family was in order to make kiddo's life 'better.' Making it better implies that whatever he might have told me, he really never believed that kiddo's being an only child was any good. I had the sense of that here and there throughout our marriage but I always thought that one way wasn't any better or worse than the other, just different. It's amazing, how we lived together for 17 years and yet could find ourselves in such completely different places. It's like we never knew each other at all. I know that's not true, but at times it certainly feels like it.

One other niggling thing. I've thought about the time frame he says that he met Yo in but there is something about it that's not quite jiving with what I recall him talking about at the time. I remember him talking about their initial meetings and the aftermath of them months before I moved out. I remember wondering at the time if he wasn't a bit interested in her because of the way the situation played out. Funny, though. He says now he met her a few weeks after I moved out.

He's lying.

You know, that's okay. You'd think -- of all the things that would make me angry and bitter -- that stretch of the truth would be the major sore point. You'd think so. But honestly, it's not. It is knowing that even if he didn't actually cheat, he was guilty enough about what he did feel that he felt he needed to cover over the circumstances of their meeting with the soft cloth of prevarication.

That means he's just as infallible as I am. Now that, I like. Now that is comforting.

((Song: " Love and Marriage" by Frank Sinatra. Lyrics here:
http://www.lyricsdepot.com/frank-sinatra/love-and-marriage.html ))

It's A Nice Day For A White Wedding

My roommate has a job now, finally, so I get an average of three hours alone every day after I get home from work. It's been fantastic! Of course when I finish with my own school and secure a "real" job I won't have that time, but then again, I'll be making plans to find a place by myself. I'll be a big girl!

There was this issue I haven't mentioned it in here yet because I wanted to make sure it was happening before I did? I mentioned it first in my post of 6 May and mentioned it a few times thereafter. Well, it seems like it's happening so I might as well just address it. Looks like Exh is going to ask Yo to marry him.

Yes, indeed. To marry him.

I can't begin to list the reasons why it's just an unwise decision at this juncture. Really, do I even have to?

When I first mentioned it here in early May the kiddo was having a difficult time adjusting to it. This was not because of Yo, since they get along well enough, but because of Yo's 3-yr old son. Kiddo's been an only child her whole life and seeing the amount of time her father had to spend on this boy was arousing her jealousy and insecurity. When she found out Kiddo posted a not-so-nice bulletin complete with expletives on her MySpace page, forgetting that Yo would also receive it as she was one of her Friends. (I'll admit to a secret giggle about that here, but to kiddo's face I made different noises, heh.)

In the last month Exh and I have had ample opportunity to discuss the changes. I've had a bit of time to sort through most of my own feelings about it and though they're not gone by any means, they've subsided a bit. All petty jealousies and insecurities aside, I do earnestly hope he finds in her what he didn't get from me, and that this is not the rebounding mistake it appears to be, and that he finds happiness. Everyone deserves that in their lives. More importantly, my kiddo's adjusted to it. She is very much like me in that we don't take to change easily. When confronted by any change in our routines our first instinct is to buck and resist, but when we have a while to think things through we usually come around to adjusting quite well.

I've done more than my share in helping to accomplish kiddo's adjustment. She's a very loyal person and I was aware she needed me to adjust first so she didn't fear that enjoying all that would come her way wouldn't be disloyal to me. It's been very hard for me to do that when inside I feel a host of conflicting emotions, but I've done it. I wanted to help her see that there's more benefit to be had from embracing others and letting them enrich your life than in being insular. I wanted to give her permission to enjoy benefits that could range from possibly having a half-sibling of her own as well as having Yo's son for a step-brother.

There was another incident that happened this week involving Yo's insecurities with me, but I'll leave that for another day. As it is, they probably will not marry for a year or so. He hasn't asked her yet but they've discussed it. He tells me he intends to ask her soon but also mentioned it would be a while before they actually marry because he told her to go ahead and sign a year's lease on an apartment a month ago. So a lot can happen between now and then.

In the meantime, my responsibility is to my kiddo. I'm not dividing my time between her and some guy and I don't need to consider anyone else's feelings but hers, so I'm in a good position to make sure she adjusts well to everything that happens around her.

Don't think I didn't make sure the exh knew that regardless of my feelings about his decision, I was going to present a supportive and encouraging face to kiddo. First off, I refuse to be one of those ex-spouses that denigrate the other or try to pit the children against the other to make themselves the favorite. And secondly, it gives me the high road and believe me, in our marriage, I didn't have it often so I'm sure enjoying walking it now!

I had my moments of satisfaction, though. Don't think for a minute I didn't remind him about all the years he'd spent insisting he'd never be one of those types to ignore the reality of a situation because he fell into the trap of thinking it was different for him and different from everyone else's experiences.

And I relished another, most enjoyable morsel: I made sure he knew that I knew that all that posturing was just holier than thou bullshit and that he could be a dumbass just like the rest of us.

God, that makes me feel good. Is that wrong? :D

((Song: "White Wedding" by Billy Idol. Lyrics here:
http://www.asfradio.com/lyrics.asp?ctype=4885 ))

Straight And To The Point

There's something that flashes through my mind on occasion and when it does it always flashes through my mind at the same time and in the same place -- just as I'm laying my head down on my pillow to go to sleep. It's a simple enough statement: "What the hell are you doing here?" This is usually immediately followed by some variation of "you should be with your family."

It hurts for long minutes, maybe more. I wallow in the guilt of abandonment, feeling like a horrible mother, a horrible wife, a horrible woman. Sacrificing the relationship with my exh was one thing, but sacrificing my relationship with my daughter? I can feel the loss so sharply, like a neverending hollow pointed pain in my gut. I begin to accuse myself and point out that I have become peripheral to my daughter's life, of my own choosing. How could I voluntarily give away those seconds and minutes and days and weeks and months of her life that I should share with her before she grows up and I won't have that opportunity any longer? Why could I not have waited?

I feel the tears well up; sometimes they fall and sometimes I swallow them back down. I let myself feel it for a moment and then, purposely, I start my internal dialogue. I remind myself to stop creating worst case scenarios. I tell myself that my daughter is still available to me, she won't forget about me, I am still her mother. I tell myself that things are not as bad as I imagine and that I have much to pride myself on. And in that manner I talk myself back down and away from that mental precipice. Then, some time later, I fall asleep.

When I wake up the next morning I listen again. I have another voice then, my morning voice, one that is free of all the day's parading thoughts. I've learned over the years that it is this simple unadorned voice that is most tapped into the deepest parts of my soul. The what I want and what I need parts, the what is best and what is true and right parts. So I listen to it and it is mostly silent and quiet and clear. Inevitably I feel better.

This process is exhausting. I hope the two voices can find some sort of synchronization soon. I'll be relieved when they do.

I experienced this last night except that following the internal struggle of guilt and the talking myself back, I did not immediately fall asleep. I lay there thinking about a situation that had presented itself over the weekend concerning my roommate.

For the first time in my life, I am enjoying being by myself. It feels like a gift that has been given to me at just the right time....but it's not, it's a reward. I've earned the ability to feel this way. It is so liberating.

I look around me and everyone is wanting to be with someone or already is. I don't. I have noticed how people -- women, especially -- seem to need another man in place before they're willing to make the leap out of a relationship. I've never been able to condemn this because I have been one of those women my entire life. Until now. This time I didn't leave for someone else, I didn't need that crutch to support me on my way out the door. No, I left for ME.

I'm proud of that because it is so very unlike me. I'm proud of the strength of purpose I found somewhere when I needed it most. I'm proud even through the tears I have to suffer through when I think about my daughter. Sometimes I think about going back, as I've said, but one of the things that always comes up in that internal dialogue -- and inspires me to soldier on regardless of the guilt -- is the fact that I left because the alternative was waiting until I found someone else and walking out the door with that kind of crutch propped up under my arm.

I didn't want to be that woman any longer.


((Song: "Coin Operated Boy" by the Dresden Dolls. Lyrics here:
http://www.dresdendolls.com/downloads_n_lyrics/lyrics/coinoperatedboy.htm ))

Now I'm Free, Now I'm Free, Now I'm Free

Well, Wednesday was a day of firsts.

1) First time I'd ever been in a courtroom.
2) First time I'd ever been divorced.
3) First time I met my exh's girlfriend.

Went to court on Wednesday and although I was totally stressed that the judge would refuse to allow our unique take on child support (we were exchanging an asset in lieu of it) he looked at it for all of 20 seconds, asked us both if we were amenable to it, and then said it's granted and ushered us off to get our paperwork from the baliff.

And just like that, we were divorced. The ex and I blinked at each other and mumbled something along the order of, "Holy cow. What just happened?"

Talk about anticlimactic.

We spent the majority of the day together in one fashion or another. We held hands in the parking lot, went out for coffee, talked about the ending of our relationship and what we wanted to see from it in the future, and all in all it was a meaningful and enjoyable day. It might sound strange to say this, but it ended like it began.....beautifully.

I am indeed a lucky lady.

Later on, I was spending time with BFF. Exh calls me and tells me he'd like me to join him for a meeting about mineral rights for the house, and that we'll need a notary in order for us to sign the paperwork to lease out those rights. He tells me that Yo is a notary and she'd be happy to do it. I ask if he's sure, he says yes, and although I am not at all convinced he realizes that he's delusional, I agree. I admit, I wanted to meet her.

Long story short, I do. She comes over to the house and we introduce ourselves, and I meet her little boy. It's a short visit and a pleasant one, and I experienced no real amount of jealousy for her place with exh. I do admit to a twinge of jealousy when she and kiddo were hugging and talking about getting together but for the most part? I was pretty relaxed, and proud of myself for it.

I thought about it on the way home and I examined my reactions in more detail as I did. I decided some things. No matter what, I'm kiddo's mom and no one will ever replace me in that role in her eyes. Exh told me he has emphasized that fact to both Yo and the kiddo. And really, it is unreasonable of me to expect him not to find enjoyment out of his life, a form of enjoyment I refused to give, and didn't want to, and couldn't. And it is infinitely more preferable to me that my kiddo be comfortable with and actually like the other woman he is with, than have that woman treat her with indifference and cruelty. It says a lot about Yo's character that she enjoys my kiddo's company. I'd rather all my kiddo's close family be enriching to her.

So these are my first days as a newly single woman. Here's to my next phase of life.

((Song: "Free" by Vast. Lyrics here:
http://www.superlyrics.com/lyrics/kGRU0xYFJL@H@c/Free_lyrics_by_VAST.html ))

I Wonder, Is There Anything I'm Gonna Miss?

Yesterday was a frustrating day.

Stbx and I had our court date to finalize the divorce. Now, we've been doing this ourselves since we can't afford to hire a lawyer (translation: I've been doing the work, stbx trusts me to handle these sorts of things and I take them on willingly -- it's how it's always been.)

Long story short, I did not prepare the correct paperwork and we learned we had to reschedule. We were both upset and irritated by the delay but by the end of the ride back to his place, we had begun taking out our frustrations on the convoluted, confusing court system with a series of joking/ranty comments.

He soothed my frayed nerves and my feelings of idiocy by telling me he was impressed by the inroads I'd made in understanding everything so far without the help of a lawyer. I deeply appreciated his encouragement. We veered off on other topics and somewhere in the midst of all the laughing and joking about weird TV shows and sharing our long-ingrained dual senses of humor, I began to cry.

What made me cry was the realization that of all the humans on the planet, he was still really the only one that truly knows and gets me deeply. More than all my friends -- whom I can laugh with and enjoy time with but who are intrinsically "other" -- he was more than just my friend. He was the rungs on my ladder, the other side of my scale. I really felt at gut-level all the things that I was losing. He looked at me and all I could manage to say was, "I miss you."

He knew what I meant. I tried to pull myself together as he quietly told me that he'd had to take the day previous off work after I'd called to tell him about the court date, that he couldn't concentrate at work after that. We spoke of feeling like failures. We spoke of 20 years of togetherness that now had to somehow be changed. We spoke of things like getting back together and knowing that it would go back to the way it was before whether it took a year, or 2, or 5 to do so. He said he had been so miserable during that time and he didn't want to voluntarily go through all that again. We spoke of the need to have the hope that eventually the pain would recede and all the other things -- the good things -- that we had, and have, would rise to the top like so much rich cream.

So we're still married. It'll be that way for another week while we get another court date set up.

I know he's right. But I do miss him.


((Song: "How's It Going To Be?" by Third Eye Blind. Lyrics here:
http://artists.letssingit.com/third-eye-blind-lyrics-hows-it-going-to-be-7tx7xf4 ))

Cause We're All Afraid Of Each Other

I had a dream last night that was one of the strangest ones I'd had in a while.

I was trying to shut a big door, and the door acted like one of those spinning safe locks -- the kind with the tumblers? You could see the tumblers spin and in order for the door to close properly I had to wait until the tumblers passed over this piece of metal that was sticking out so that it would lock in place -- the thing couldn't spin backward.

So I was messing with the door -- it wasn't working right for me -- while talking with BiB. He was standing to my right, holding a hat or something. I offered to take him home in my car. He looked like he didn't want to wait for me but finally said all right, fine.

Then V came walking up. I nodded to him and said I'd be ready in a minute. I told V that I was planning to leave soon and to make sure to be in the car, and that BiB was going with us. He eyed BiB but said nothing. I saw his look and introduced BiB to him. V's eyebrows raised, but his tone was even as he said his greetings.

V and BiB began to leave and I followed behind, curious to see what would happen because I knew that Grey was waiting in the car with V.

I got in the front seat and turned around to watch just as BiB slid into the passenger's seat of the car. Grey looked at BiB and BiB looked at Grey, neither man having ever met the other. So with an anticipatory smile I said, "Grey, this is BiB. BiB, this is Grey."

Watching the dawning comprehension in both men's eyes and how they subsequently sized one another up was delicious.

And then I awoke.

I laid there for a moment, and the first thing I did was laugh. Ah, how interesting that would be.

((Song: "Dirty Great Monster" by Duran Duran. Lyrics here:
http://www.metrolyrics.com/dirty-great-monster-lyrics-duran-duran.html ))

He's Just A Little Plaything

This weekend kiddo and I had a lot of fun together and spent a lot of time in the car driving to our destination, which was a Renaissance faire with Grey and his family and some friends. The entirety of my life lately seems to be rather Renaissance-y. Therefore, it's only right that this become the theme of my post today.

Anyway, the long ride gave kiddo and I some time to sit and talk, something kiddo is not really fond of. She happened to mention Yo's son, the 3-yr old. She said the kid throws things at her, doesn't get scolded or disciplined, that he's a little terror. I believe her because stbx said the same thing some time ago. Anyway, her tone and expression definitely let me know how awful she thought the situation with this toddler is.

Still, I know she is not unbiased. My kiddo can be dramatic. She's an only child, not fond of children or familiar with their different sort of aliveness, and has a tendency toward selfish behavior herself. On the other hand I've seen her be incredibly gentle and tender to some younger children, mostly ones that look up to her in awe or as a figure of authority. The children she tends to favor, though, are the soft-spoken, cautious ones rather than the obnoxious ones. Can't hardly blame her there. I'm not fond of children all that much myself.

This particular child, though, pushes all the wrong buttons for her. She didn't say anything about the why of it but I suspect there are reasons that don't include his poor upbringing.

I pause here for a caveat of sorts. I'll try to be as objective as I can as I go on, keeping some of my messier emotions like envy or disdain at a minimum. I know these color the situation and I'll try to at least remember they're there and weigh them when I listen to my own words and thoughts.

So......

Kiddo has been rather insistent throughout this entire process -- the divorce -- that she is perfectly fine with it and it doesn't bother her. I don't believe that for a second.

I wonder if part of her is taking out some anger or hurt in a "safe" way; focusing on the child and letting herself hate him much more passionately than she would if he was merely another friend's child. After all, he isn't. His mother is dating her father, and there is the potential that she could get stuck living with the boy if stbx and Yo's relationship progresses. That must be a real fear for her. No doubt part of her is angry at her father and is trying to figure out why he'd want to have such a brat around. She must feel like he isn't making her a consideration.

Both of us have explained what we could about our divorce to our kiddo, but much of it is so complex and deep that it is simply not something she can understand at her age. But surely she must wonder how her father could have another woman so fast? She knows that people break up and hook up and often the one happens because of the other. Who knows? Perhaps she's come to the conclusion that because stbx began dating Yo within the first month of our separation, we just chose to leave out the fact that Yo was a factor in our divorce?

And if she thinks that was true -- and it isn't, for the record -- well, who could blame her if she is angry?

I must sit down and address these issues with her and find out if my wonderings are meaningless.

And in other randomness:

I'm enjoying a renaissance of sorts with HD. For the last couple of days he and I have chatted like crazy. I enjoy him so much. He reminds me that life isn't all doomy and gloomy, I do have a habit of getting very lost in all of life's crazy details. He's the type of man that I hope to find someday. I hope he knows how much of a compliment that is. He gives me hope that there are indeed men like that out there. And he's got a fantastically sensual way about him too, which doesn't hurt! He can rev me up like a primed Porsche.

Grey. The weekend with him was interesting. He called me twice yesterday and we ended up spending about an hour on the phone. I have all sorts of tender feelings for him, he and I have been through a lot together. We talked about our kids and our experiences and though we said nothing particularly personal, our talks were limned with intimacy. I think he needs that mental caress, like a soft comforting pat on the shoulder. I do not know his motivations yet -- whether he desires me as well as enjoys my companionship or if it is simply friendship -- but as in any long-term friendship between men and women, perhaps a bit of both? It is interesting that he doesn't let his wife know we talk. There are reasons for that, not all of which involve those sorts of reasons -- most of it is innocent enough. But there is a small part that is not. Ah well. I will let it be what it is and try not to analyze it to death....or so I say, as I sit here typing all this and analyzing it. I cannot escape who I am after all.

I intend to take bellydance lessons. Starting next month. I am sure it will be an experience, one of many to introduce me to places outside the box.

2007 is almost over. On to the next new year.


((Song: "Stay Up Late" by Talking Heads. Lyrics here:
http://www.asfradio.com/lyrics.asp?ctype=4573 ))

I'm On A Ride And I Want To Get Off

First, the appetizers:

Playtime with HD last night. The man is a treasure. He whets my desires. I can hear his sexy accent in my head. He's curious, impulsive, impish. Up for absolutely anything. I just know he'd be a treat. Ahhhhh, my kingdom for just a taste!

I'm going to go visit Grey this weekend. I'm soooooo looking forward to it.

Kiddo texts me today. "Mom, I need cookie dough." I'm thinking it's for school, another one of those godawful sales pitch things. I text her back and ask what she's selling it for. Her answer: "Not selling it, I want some real bad." Then I start laughing when it sinks in; she's craving it. She's such a goof.

My stbx is such a great guy, it's going to be hard to find someone that can hold a candle to him. Or maybe I just like the view of me that I see in his eyes even though I know it's not the right one.

And now on to the meat and potatoes:

In my comments section from my last entry, D mentioned that women hold the power of sex. Yes, they do. I'm not sure I want to wield it, though, at least not long term. It's like a sword. I want to take it up at the beginning and indulge in it when it's sharp and strong and vital and the taste of it is sweet, and then when it dulls, leave the thing hidden away in its sheath where I don't have to see it or even remember it's there.

Too bad that men can't do that.

How on earth do I reconcile all these conflicting desires? I want sex, but I can't stand it. I hate that it exists, but I require it. I need it as a means by which I feel sexy and desired or to feel my power over a man, but when that initial rush fades its appearance makes me feel only resentment. When I submit to it after the initial rush fades and it begins to feel obligatory I get revolted at myself and push the other person away. When I see what men do in its clutches I am disdainful of it, and of them.

So what do I do? I avoid the whole thing. It's so much easier.

Those men that hit on me? I want them to hit on me,sure, but when they do, for the most part, they disgust me. They don't care about me, not really -- all they want is what I can provide. They're out on the prowl, wanting meat. I paint them all with one brush. Yes, I know it's wrong of me to do so but I do it nevertheless. I know it's an overreaction on my part. I know it stems from the love/hate relationship I've had with sex and my own desires or more accurately, their lack thereof. I don't want to feel obligated to continue to provide anything when my desire wanes (as I know it will, it always has) and I know that no matter what any of them say, it all comes down to that eventually. Most relationships are obligations, an unspoken contract if not a spoken, sign-on-the-dotted-line one -- "I'll provide the security you want, you provide the continual sex that I want." It is as simple as that.

Yet I don't know if I can go through life without having any relationships. I don't know that I'm the type of woman that can find satisfaction without forging a deep connection with someone. I should be, given my feelings on the matter -- I should try to be the type to enjoy only casual encounters or short-term, passionate relationships, fleeing when the boredom or the obligation sets in. I want to be, I know I need to be! But wanting and being able to are not the same. I don't think I could be even if I tried. I'm not sure of that yet, or course -- I haven't found someone like that yet -- so maybe it's possible with the right guy, I don't know.

Then there's the whole thing of my feelings getting involved. I find myself falling for a man, imagining something longterm, imagining it would be "different" with him, forgetting that eventually what I feel will fade as the obligations and realities set in. You see, I want to be someone special, not everyday, not just a fuck. I need to be respected as well as desired. I want a man consumed with me but I want the trust and love and support. I want all that just like everyone else does.

And we come to my ultimate Catch-22, the one I can't seem to figure out how to resolve to my satisfaction. Any relationship I try to forge in the future will be subject to this same simple rule: this deep connection I long for has to come with a long-term sexual obligation. It has to in order for the other person to flourish within it. This I know. So what are my choices? Refuse to do it and lose the other person because they would not be able to feel loved and needed and desired, as is their right. Or sit silently, continue to do it even when my desire fades? Only resentment and pain lies down that path, I've been there and done that. It was how I lost my marriage.

Catch-22.

Holy shit, am I ever fucked up.

((Song: "The Reflex" by Duran Duran. Lyrics here:
http://www.geocities.com/ladyxanax13/Lyrics/TheReflex.html ))

I Am At Peace, I Know What It Is That I Must Do

I spent the weekend with my kiddo and threw a Halloween party for her and her friends as well as a few of mine. I cooked like a madwoman -- made brain dip, severed intestines, black spider spaghetti and finger cookies and kitty litter cake for dessert. It was a lot of fun but next year the menu will be streamlined so I won't be so tired that I can't really enjoy the party.

I was taking the kiddo back home to her dad's house last night when I finally saw Yo from a distance -- she was driving away from stbx's house just as the kiddo and I were pulling around the corner. She was facing me and waved to the kiddo and the kiddo waved back at her. She's a mousy little thing. Ha! I wonder what she thought of me.

I went inside, stbx offered me some tea and we began to talk. We talked about any number of subjects but eventually got around to Yo. We talked a bit about her but stbx let me know that I happened to be quite the subject of conversations between them. He told her that I was his dearest friend and she said that it bothered her a little that should the two of them have problems, that he would come to me to discuss them. He pointed out that she had a male friend that she talks to now that she used to be in a relationship with and how was that any different?

I smiled and silently marveled at how stupid boys are. Of course it's different! Yo and her ex boyfriend weren't married for 17 years or shared a life and a child. He might try to assure her that his relationship with me and his relationship with her are in different little boxes, but they aren't. She's aware that there are three people in her burgeoning relationship every bit as much as I knew, 20 years ago, that my first lover's wife was in our relationship. Yo knows how deep my reach goes even if stbx doesn't.

Funny thing. My experience back then is giving me what I need now to understand what's going on here in ways that given Yo's age, she just can't know. I ended up leaving my first lover because I knew deep down he wasn't ready for me. I wonder if she'll figure that out in time too.

Anyway, I asked stbx a question. It was the sort of question that I knew would cut that last umbilical cord between us and once and for all define whether we could ever rebuild our relationship as a couple. I asked it because I've had some difficulties letting go recently, thinking that there might be some way to salvage the "us" that's been a part of my life for so long. Having these fantasies has really been making me feel depressed. I didn't want to leave it and wonder about the what-if's. I had to know for sure.

So I asked him if he would be able to consider a poly/open sort of lifestyle. For a while now I'd had this scenario rolling around in the back of my head about how we could find another way to be together, one in which I wouldn't have to sacrifice him or all the many deep and meaningful layers of our years together. So I presented it to him: keep Yo around, I'd accept her, we'd establish new ground rules. His answer -- which was no, he was a one-woman man -- told me everything I'd needed to hear. I don't know if this makes any sense, but though my internal dialouge had already supplied me with the answer he gave me, I needed to ask it and hear his response to it. Out loud. He needed to give my instinct that external validation.

I felt a real sense of peace when I walked out his door.


((Song: "We Know Where You Sleep" by the Paper Chase. ))

This Doesn't Have to Be Anything at All

Couldn't be bothered to blog for a bit, but I'm back. Isn't everyone thrilled?

I'm meeting kiddo after work today for coffee. I'm looking forward to the time I'll get to spend with even though it often seems like a superhuman effort to get her to open up and talk to me. We can talk easier over IMs (as I mentioned recently) but I also want to be able to talk face to face. I want to know what's going on in her life and the only way I'll be able to do that is to keep the lines of communication open. I know this seems like common sense -- and it is! -- but this is my daughter we're talking about here. She's the consummate closed door.

There's one other thing I'm a bit conflicted about, something that to be honest I didn't think I'd have to deal with quite yet. I've been been trying to sort out my feelings about it so that when it does eventually come to a point where I'll need to address it verbally, I'll be able to do so with confidence. So here's the thing: if you'll recall my stbx was seeing a woman that I spoke about briefly a week or so ago. I learned this past weekend that she is 22 years old and has a 3 yr old son! My stbx said that he had dialed their relationship back to that of friends but that she (I'll call her Yo from now on) had been spending some time with my kiddo, taking her to the mall on one occasion and taking her out to eat at an Italian place on another.

Now one might think that I would have issues with this because of some misplaced idea that a young girl is everything that I am not, that he's replacing me, etc. These things aren't what's bothering me. I'm well aware that the idea that such a young woman can find him attractive at his age is very intoxicating to him. I know he feels rejected and that this is a good pet to his self-esteem. I'm even pleased that he's getting those good feelings because he needs them to help him make moves forward in his life. I don't begrudge him his needs and wants and I don't feel he's disrespecting me in the least. And that's the honest truth.

However, there's a bigger part of me that feels very vindicated. Throughout the years he's looked down his nose at how people were so silly for getting themselves into obviously questionable situations and for being unable to use reason to determine what another's motives are. Yet here he is in one of these situations with a young girl who has a young child, who is sexually aggressive and probably more experienced than he is, and who almost certainly finds him attractive more for what he represents to her than for his own personality. So when push comes to shove he's not above stupidity and certainly not above all the rest of us plebes that succumb to impulse. I am strangely comforted by this. I hope it doesn't turn out badly for him -- not at all! -- but I do hope he learns the lesson of humility. That is one lesson he really does need to learn.

All that is amusing to me but I'm less concerned with his personal life (I hope he has a good one) than with how what he does -- and does so quickly -- might impact my child. In other words it might have been a good idea for him to remain alone for a longer amount of time instead of allowing someone to move into the family unit with such speed, even if it is under the guise of friends. My daughter isn't that stupid -- she sees. And Yo? Obviously Yo is smart. She's trying to get to know my kiddo and her efforts have paid off; he told me that her attempts have impressed him. He even called her "mature," the poor deluded man. Hah! Anyway, our kiddo is his vulnerable spot right now and she's not an idiot. She's exploiting it.

I could have said all the above to him but I chose not to though I know he saw some of my thoughts on my face. I did tell him he needed to be careful and pointed out that he might be acting in haste. He expressed some thoughts that were along those lines but at the same time he expressed others (like asking others he knew in May/December relationships how they managed the gap) that told me he was contemplating things with Yo a bit more deeply than he let on. So while he said he backed her off into the "friends" place and isn't introducing any more physical stuff, he's kidding himself. All that is simply a matter of time and probably a smaller amount of time than he thinks.

My major concern here, though, is my kiddo. I want to talk to her about her life but I won't sit there and milk her for information. I know that I should broach the subject at least so that she doesn't make her feel like she's got to constantly wonder what to hide from mom about dad and what to hide from dad about mom. I suppose I could ask her how she liked spending time with Yo, what they did at the mall and whatnot, but I'm unsure at this point about how to ask it so that it seems casual and comfortable and not a grilling session. I need to get a handle on what I feel about this before bringing it into a conversation with kiddo.

I didn't think I'd have to deal with this quite this fast so I hadn't factored this sort of situation into my thoughts about the divorce. I had assumed that stbx would either a) remain alone for a while to gain equilibrium or b) carry on something discreet without involving kiddo. I hadn't counted on this third option to be a reality for some time yet.

I'm feeling some jealousy about this -- "this" being Yo's buddy-buddy sort of attempt to get into my kid's good graces. It all stems from my own feelings of insecurity. I know that kiddo and I have a distant sort of relationship even if stbx says things like "she's got a relationship with you that I don't have" and "she depends on you even if she doesn't let you know" and "no other woman will ever be able to replace you." I know, rationally, that these things are all true. But how do you tell that to your heart when I remember when she was 10-12 yrs old and begging me to spend time with her and pay attention to her and instead I ignored her because I was ass-deep in a video game to escape my relationship troubles? And when finally, face blank and eyes empty, she stopped asking? Is it partly my fault that she is the way she is?

Maybe someday I'll escape the guilt of that, and that'll probably only be when she absolves me of it. Until then I'll have to carry it with me and try like hell to fight my own demons, the one on the right that wants to try to fix it and the one on the left that tells me its useless because she doesn't care enough to get it fixed at all.

Jealousy, yes indeed, because Yo doesn't have all this shit to surmount. She can be cool and fun and why not? There are only 8 years between them! But I can choose how to respond to this and for now I'm going to keep it in its proper perspective and just keep spending time with kiddo and keep being her mom. It's all I can do.


((Song: "Stop Dragging My Heart Around" by Stevie Nicks and Tom Petty. Lyrics here:
http://www.nicksfix.com/stopdrag.htm ))