I check my Facebook memories every day. It’s a little ritual where I drink my coffee and get to revisit how I felt back then and compare it to where I am now.
It's pretty fascinating how the same memory can hit you differently each year. For some memories, it’s like looking at a completely new story. I like to think it means we’re all evolving in our own ways.
I remember when my dad posted something on my wall that made me really angry. I felt guilt for not visiting him more often, but I was going through a rough patch myself at the time.
I didn't understand that he would be dead in a few months or I was ignoring that fact as a survival tactic at the time.
But here it is:
I just "liked" it and raged internally. Mostly, because I thought it was embarrasing to be called out in front of your friends. Like only a parent can do.
But now, I wish I had handled it differently.
Instead, I had written a blog post and went out to get wings, thought I was falling in love AGAIN and drank too much. Real sterotypical writer stuff.
Because I drug my feet, by the time I spent time with him, I definitely had to acknowledge that he was dying. And communication wasn't easy sitting in the hospital room.
If I had the chance today, it would go like this:
Dear Daddy,
I went for a walk this morning. Every August, I promise myself that I won’t stay in Missouri much longer. I hate the heat, and I just got a $385 utility bill. It's all this real adult stuff that comes with transitions, and I don't feel prepared for it all. And it all seems to hit at once.
I think you wrote on my wall because you read my blog post and it made you sad. Parents want their kids' lives to be perfect, which isn’t realistic. I find myself doing the same with Sydney.
I want you to recognize me when we meet again. I was baptized several years ago, so I believe we will. I know... you had me baptized when I was a baby, and we were Catholic. We can hash that out while playing euchre in Heaven. We’ll have time.
Life isn’t bad. I listened to Abbey Road on my walk. I'm frustrated that I can't exercise the way I need to for my mind right now because of my surgery, but I’m feeling better every week.
Abbey Road is one of those albums you need to listen to from beginning to end. That’s the art of it, and it’s lost on so many people nowadays. We may listen, but we’re also on our phones. There’s this “thing” where nothing gets our full attention anymore. I hate it and do it simultaneously. It leaves you feeling like you’re missing something, constantly.
Dad, no one spends time together without some sort of buffer. No one spends time with their kids without posting about it. No good deed goes without self-reward. You’d hate it.
And no one just goes for a walk and listens to art as intended. We live in a shuffle-mode world.
I say “no one,” but that isn’t entirely accurate. But it is quite common.
We aren’t even allowed to think about our problems and dissect them in our minds in hopes of correcting them. That’s called “overthinking.” And since acknowledging our issues can be uncomfortable for those around us, it’s often discouraged.
So, we stay right where we are or close to it. And you know me better than others, so you know that I feel like I am not transitioning into where I should be at the pace that allows me to take a full breath.
I liked the neighborhood I walked through today. You can tell that people enjoy their homes. There’s this one house—definitely not anything that would make your head turn on a car ride—but they have planted perennials that I’m sure come back thicker and more vibrant every year. And they have these awful, cheap garage doors, old and rotted in the corners. But they put faux stained glass film on the garage door windows. Every time I walk by, I imagine the day they probably did it and how they likely stood at the end of their driveway, looking at it after completion, feeling satisfied and happy. I’ve done things like that with my house, but I don’t feel connected to it the way I should. I don’t know what to do to change that either. Sometimes, I’m happy to pull into the driveway, and sometimes I’m not. I can’t afford to fix the things that drive me crazy, and Dad, it is the hottest and coldest house. But it’s mine. I think you’d be proud of me.
That part in Abbey Road where they sing:
"She came in through the bathroom window Protected by a silver spoon But now she sucks her thumb and wanders By the banks of her own lagoon Didn’t anybody tell her? Didn’t anybody see? Sunday’s on the phone to Monday Tuesday’s on the phone to me"
...feels too relevant these days. But when they talk about how even though everything has fallen apart, it’s a chance to start again, and that it’s magical to not know what’s going on sometimes:
"But oh, that magic feeling, nowhere to go Oh, that magic feeling, nowhere to go Nowhere to go One sweet dream Pick up the bags, get in the limousine Soon we’ll be away from here Step on the gas and wipe that tear away One sweet dream came true today"
...that gives me hope. But if you don’t listen to it all, you miss the full story with all the emotions. So, I’ve always listened to it alone. I don't need some jerk to tell me what John and Paul really meant. At least, the suite at the end I savor to myself. That’s my favorite.
I don’t write anymore. I know only one way to write, and I’ve had too many people use what is cathartic for me as something to throw back in my face. Which I hate because they are all secondary in this blog. It’s about my feelings. But I always end up feeling like I need to apologize for those, so it became easier not to write. I can’t explain why I don’t read books now. But I don’t feel as intelligent or mentally stimulated as I used to, and that feels pretty bad. Phones have ruined so many things, but we need them.
You were really a great writer. I never told you that I felt you were amazing, which is unfortunate because you were, very literally, one of the best.
I had a job interview yesterday and was told that I was the only person they had ever seen personally who scored a hundred percent on the Positivity portion. It must still be ingrained in me. That is hopeful. And ironic, currently. I love coaching, but I fear I am burned out regarding everything else that comes with it. The 60 minutes fill my soul, but the other parts drain it. I coached earlier this week and thought, “I would put this in front of anyone in my field. I love to teach.” Do it right, and you create an atmosphere that is irresistible and educational. I think you’d be proud of that too. But after 17 years, I don’t feel like my skills and experience match the job I’m in, and also, I can’t afford to continue it. Four years ago, yes. Today, I sell plasma to fill in gaps, and that isn’t how I want to live anymore. It makes me feel like I’ve failed somehow. I get nervous using air conditioning in my car unless I really need to. And did I mention that I hate Augusts in Missouri?
We could have some interesting talks about politics. Also, people are horrid about politics now. And hateful. I’ve lost so much respect for so many people, but you learn to try and ignore it. You’d hate that part too. So many can’t let others just believe what they want to believe. Adults call each other names. They post nasty things about other groups of HUMANS on Facebook. Oh, Facebook has changed too. But we stay because we would miss our friends. Yet we sit and look at friends when we’re in the presence of other friends or family. Dad, we are present yet not present. It all leaves you knowing that there’s more in life but not living it because you can’t really live a full life alone. We are all functioning at 85%, at best.
Remember how the ocean blew cool air when we were on the Cape? Or in California? And aside from God, you were in the presence of something so vast that your life and its problems felt manageable in comparison? Nothing in Missouri feels as big as what is before me. And while I know there is a reason for this time and I trust God, this isn’t my home. Where that is, I don’t know, but it isn’t here. The people I love are here, though.
But Dad, I need to look at the ocean. Or things need to seem smaller where I land.
I want you to recognize me after my transition is complete too, but Dad, I am so tired from the last seven years. When do all the pieces come together? When do I get to stop feeling like everything in my life is incomplete? When is my transition done?
Looking forward to your wisdom and our euchre game someday.
I was sitting at a community pool with a dear friend yesterday. It had been a while since we had one on one time.
Pandemic problems.
She asked me, "Do you still write?"
I said, "No."
No.
And that two-letter answer has sat with me since I said it.
Good friends know when two letters are all the explanation that your mind has at the time. And we sat and felt the sun on our skin until we spoke again on another subject.
I am thankful for those kinds of friends.
Why don't I write anymore? I really had to think about it.
I feel like the answer is this:
It doesn't help me process anything anymore.
And I don't understand life...apparently. So why pretend that I could find an answer?
Good writing takes a part of you and puts it out there. Naked. And you need to be able to jiggle your bits and feel free.
It was never for anyone else. But the perfect byproduct was that it made other people really happy and helped me think, all in one neat little post.
Who doesn't want to pump sunshine?
I guess lots of people nowadays.
And nowadays are chipping me down like the suet cakes that I put out for the asshole birds in my backyard. But I keep feeding them.
Writing is a lot about blind trust. And I find it really hard to trust people with my feelings right now.
Right or wrong, people are expressing their feelings like rapid-fire right now. And no matter if we agree or not, they are bricks of thoughts. Hurled at the opposite views or building up walls because they think it will protect us from the onslaught of attacks that come from expressing your feelings. Build a big enough wall and you can make the opposite side feel small. Be loud and the louder you are, the more correct you will feel.
And in this dirty war of words that are said from behind the protection of our phones or laptops, we express anger or sentences that we would never say in person. Self-satisfaction is outweighing our basic governing rules of society.
Like the Constitution, which is not just a piece of paper any more than the Bible is just a book or a marriage is just a government contract, basic rules are in place to help the flow of society to move forward. And to allow us to move forward in grace and elegance.
By the way, elegance does not always mean gold-tipped, pinkies out tea time. By definition it means the quality of being pleasingly ingenious and simple; neatness.
And therein lies the problem or the answer to why I do not write:
The world is not flowing forward. We're swirling yet stagnant. No momentum. No forward movent. No growth. And those are the building blocks that make humanity a constantly evolving and hopefully more cohesive foundation on which we are all to live, thrive, and survive.
And learn.
When we stop learning, we're stuck in one place. And while plateaus or stoops are a great place to rest, if we want to better our lives and become stronger, we must keep moving forward.
Because unkind or unmannerly or unchristian or dickhead behaviors (choose your own adventure here) are more exposed today. More than ever and at a lightning speed. One click away.
More common. We all have become people who are accepting this behavior as our new normal. When it is not normal at all.
Cheating is appearing more common probably due to the accessibility through the device in which you are using to read this. Commonplace or accessibility doesn't make it acceptable. Yet, people excuse it easily within our friends, exes we take back, ourselves.
We use the same devices to lie. To COVER lies-even worse btw. To judge. To tell others, even strangers whose circumstances are a mystery to us that they are wrong. Stupid. Fools.
To judge so quickly and not in person but with absolute certainty that there are mass groups of people who are by some effing miracle of nature, all EXACTLY the same. And we should give them a name, label them and dislike them all. And tell everyone else to dislike them too. And if you don't, you're dumb too. Without doubt. They are the enemy.
And we are just that certain.
We don't know what we want to eat but damn, we know this.
We forget the common rules of decency. That there is a curtain that we pull around us when we cast a ballot. But we use a platform to sit on a throne of our own making, giving a public thumbs up or down to eradicate others. And we applaud those who sit in our camp with a "Well said" or "This".
And within our righteousness, we forget the basics.
Manners. Kindness. Acceptance. Honesty and grace. Our foundational rules that hold relationships and society firm so that we may build and grow. And we surround ourselves with those who will accept our lack of regard for others because now it's common.
It doesn't matter if you like to eat drywall. You will find a group that will back you and makes you feel like it is normal.
"Hell yeah, brother. And those sheetrock people are crazy..."
Because you needn't worry. There will always be someone to justify your behavior online.
But it bleeds over to real life. In-person life. And it causes division. Arguments. Tears. Depression.
And for me, a really screwed up sense of reality.
Should we not make others comfortable in our presence while allowing them the freedom to be their own person? Even though that is hard work?
Spoiler alert: all relationships are hard work when done right. Lazy relationships yield what is happening today.
So, why don't I write anymore?
Because trusting others with my feelings is asking to take a beating right now.
And I am beaten down.
Because I am widdling down my circle to those who will kind to others. To those who can give it over to God because no matter your opinion on current events, it really doesn't matter in the end. If Heaven is your end game, the big guy makes the choice.
If it isn't? I love you just as much.
We cool.
I want to open myself to people who I can trust with the intangible. The irreplaceable.
If you put your trust, friendship, heart, happiness, or sorrow in my hands, I will treat it as it should be treated.
Carefully.
At the same time, I will protect my own.
Which, if I understand humanity correctly, is what everyone else
feels they are doing right now in the 1st place.
We are all traveling thru this season together. But the emotional road rage against others is making the journey feel like the road trip from hell. Or to it. Depending on who you ask.
So, I don't write. Because I truly don't understand people anymore.
I probably trust fewer which makes me sad at times.
But I do know that I won't pretend to do so as I figure out my life and place in this world. The noise being created right now makes it so I can't hear answers. It keeps me from finding peace. And I really, really need that.
So I am going to sign off this ancient blog that has brought me so much throughout the years-200k reads including that random traffic from Czechia that I appreciate yet boggles my mind every time it pops up-and keep my eyes on the road for the time being.
If I was 23 months old and in a way, I am, I would be learning every day and know nothing. That is how I feel except I have a debit card and a job.
Pretty heady for a toddler.
But here are the hard things about being 23 months old.
1. Losing pets.
You split the pets.
I get that people split custody of pets but have you ever took a cat for a 100-mile car ride and put them in a new house every other weekend? Me either. It sounds cruel to the cats. Plus, your kids don't like doing it and they can deduce logic and reason. And they don't think that they are going to the Dr or never returning home each time they get in a car.
But you miss them. And most people don't get it. If I lost a pet to death, people would say, "Oh my gosh, I am so very sorry." When you're missing your pet, people just shrug and say, "That sucks." It's a lonely feeling that no one validates.
2. No perspective of normal.
Most likely, when you divorce, it is due to some unhealthy behavior. But like eating processed foods, you adapt and once you're out, you have no idea what is normal. You even gravitate to people who evoke feelings that are unhealthy because there is comfort in familiarity. Because you genuinely don't know how normal and healthy feels.
You also don't know what normal behavior looks like. So someone can be completely normal but if anything triggers your anxieties, you suddenly feel like running because NOW you have had a taste of healthy and you are terrified of ANYTHING that reminds you of your past coming into your life.
So, life feels very back and forth and confusing.
3. You feel isolated.
The only other person who really understands why you are in pain is your ex and you sure aren't going to them for comfort. You try to explain your feeling to others and they tell you that you need to stop having these sad feelings. No one wants sad feelings but no one can tell you how to make them stop. So you feel stuck at times.
4. Inadequacies.
As a wife, I busted my ass to be a good one but it still was not enough to make my husband stay.
That was a punch in the gut. Listen again:
You can give 110% and it won't be enough for someone. You can fight for your literal life and it will not be enough. And they leave you wondering what you COULD have done better or different? But the reality is that it wasn't ever about you. It was about them. But since you have no perspective about normal reality, you're mind fucked.
Now, how do you unfuck your head?
I met someone who I love very much. And he loves me. He is so very kind. And the deeper we get in, the more I look for reasons why he wouldn't want me because I couldn't live through losing someone again. Physically, I could. Mentally, I couldn't. So I feel the need to protect myself from all angles. And that is no fun.
5. Protective
Which leads me to this fun little tidbit. You want love, normalcy, less feeling like you're inadequate and less feeling isolated. You just want a normal fucking life because the other stuff is exhausting. But you can't stop protecting yourself from a regular life because you get scared that if you relax your guard, you will get hurt again. You go your entire life building security and someone knocks over your structure. Now when you rebuild, all you can think is this will be bigger, stronger, better and nothing like before because I want nothing to do with that life that hurt me. But you build the wall around yourself. And you are a master architect who cannot figure out how to build a door or window to let anyone in. And it just....sucks. You are building a self-imposed prison.
6. It is on you to get better.
No one can help you but you. And you don't know how to heal. And that is the most helpless feeling of them all.
6. Loss
Any loss, even little ones feel awful. Big ones feel overpowering.
I lost my dad last fall which was awful. If I lose anything, if something breaks, if I even lose non-tangible things like feelings for a passion or respect for someone when they do something, it feels huge. I haven't been to church for 2 months, at least. So while I know that the Big Guy has my back, I don't feel connected. And sometimes my church makes me feel lonely because we have different beliefs. And people talk poorly of my church and that hurts too. It makes me doubt my initial elation but mostly makes me feel like I need to isolate myself again from God. Like people think I was making a poor choice on where I worship and maybe they know better than I do. But the loss of that connection feels pretty overwhelming which no one really seems to care about but me. It is on me to fix that too. I wish that I had a church that felt like a family. You want that when you lose your family.
I write this because my life, although good and much better than it was 2 years ago, needs to keep moving forward. And I see glimmers of a really good life ahead of me. I just don't know how to get there without a map.
And there isn't a map for this kind of stuff.
But I am truly hoping that this makes someone else feel like they aren't alone or they are normal. I hope we are normal.
In this post-divorce life, I have amassed a solid group of friends who are also starting anew.
Over and over and over again.
It is almost as if it were easier when we were in our teens/20's. And in my opinion, it was.
That is because we were ignorant.
If you are 18-30, so are you.
Enjoy it.
There is a defined sequence of events that lead to beginning adulthood that help guide you into making choices in your relationships.
It regulates the speed and direction.
"I need to finish school before I..."
"Paying rent in 2 places is crazy when we always sleep at your apartment. Let's move in together."
"Once I fall in love, I'll get married and have kids."
"Um, I'm pregnant..." (cue the rest of your life)
When you are 40ish, you have a life, an established job, a home, an education, a child...well? No guidelines for that one.
Now, you're going commando.
Rogue.
Exciting? Yeah.
Defined path?
You think so.
Until you realize that now you're full of life experiences and dating will not be easy. And no one ever told you about this stuff.
And it's hard. It's uncharted territory and you don't have GPS.
I was talking to a friend a while back:
"How are you and Julie doing," I asked? (we will call her Julie for ease and convenience but know that now she is known as Psycho Bitch Life Ruiner. A bit wordy.)
"We are FINE," he said. "We are. But her kids, her ex, her job, her crazy friend in her ear (pick one)...it's killing me. Killing us. WE are good though. So good. We are magic. It's the other things."
Is it? Is it really though?
Our knowledge as 40ish adults limits the tolerance of what we will accept
Fully grown adults, each with their own intolerable. Watching the others accept what would be our intolerable. It is so very hard.
No one tells you that these are the things that you will stumble over when you are in a new relationship. The hardest thing is learning to accept the fact that the person who you connect with accepts things that you simply wouldn't.
And these are the things that make you wish you were 18 years old again. And ignorant.
These are things that I call second-hand toxic. And I feel like it's just as damaging.
Secondhand toxicity kills.
I have a friend who allows her daughter to be disrespectful.
All. The. Time.
It has ruined more than one relationship because she accepts the behavior. It is just too hard for the men that she dates to watch. Their thoughts are, "I wouldn't put up with that but damn...if I say anything, it causes issues." My friend just doesn't "see" it. And when you date someone, you have zero say regarding their kid's discipline. The suck factor is huge so they bolt rather than play possible step-daddy to Regina George.
My friend, who date's Julie? One of the many problems is Julie allows a different level of a boundary in her life with her ex than my friend would allow in his. Pretty much, none.
Julie's ex is toxic. A real POS. Julie allows her ex to call too often, text daily and be on her social media. And the worst? He goes to Julie with his problems. And Julie has sympathy. A week later, he is back to his toxic behavior, banging on her door, calling, texting. All because she doesn't say no EVERY TIME. With some people, letting them stay in your life, even a tiny bit, is enough to keep their crazy flame lit. It's too much when you want to build a fresh new life with someone. They are not boundary compatible. Julie is used to it. For my buddy, it is a deal breaker. I don't blame him one bit. He deserves better.
Even in friendship, toxic people can bleed over. I just had someone who I coach relate to me that they were afraid to talk to me because they felt like I was friends with another woman who is extremely toxic. I'm not but I see her point. The toxic woman is a mutual acquaintance. All of this time, I could have had a more open give and take with someone I teach but they held back because of the toxic energy that the other person brings into the world. Might I have a similar outlook?
I don't blame her either.
But I am a boundary person.
Not to brag but I was building walls during the Reagan Era.
So, what do we do? Do we pick and choose what we will accept or do we hold the line in our relationships? Wait for someone who doesn't have a single red flag? Does that person even exist? Or reassess our wants and needs?
No one is perfect. Although I am lucky enough to be seeing someone that is pretty damn close to it. But even then, we are different on many levels. But morally, we are the same. We have fun. And he treats me beautifully. And the things that were deal breakers for me in prior relationships don't seem to bother me as much with ours. And as much as I thought that I knew what I needed, I am finding out what I need is not at all what I thought I did.
But I definitely feel for him, at times. I am like dating a vegan. He doesn't need to wonder if I like something or accept something because Imma gonna tell him. Like, 5 times.
He's a strong man. I can't have any other kind.
No one should settle for less than what makes them happy. And no one should lower their standards of morality. But as fully-formed adults, are we too rigid in our beliefs? Or is Mr or Ms. Perfect out there? Do we hold off and wait?
In our teens and 20's, we find perfect and later find out they are not. We find ourselves being infected with secondhand toxicity and it kills the relationship. No all but many.
In our 40's are we smarter or too rigid to bend and mold two lives together?
I really don't know.
But it is savage out there, folks.
Either way, be a warrior choose your battles wisely.
I am happier here. I am safe here. There are no bad memories here.
Even if I wanted to, I never could've stayed in my old home. And I will never go back. I will never drive down that street again.
My new home and town feel more like a home than I have known since childhood.
I love it here.
My friends that I thought were friends aren't the people who I thought that they were. Some were gossipers. I was guilty of that too. Some were adulterers. Some were cowards who ignored it all. (Guilty) Some were focused on material wealth. (Guilty) My friends now are strong. Faithful. They don't play both sides of the fence. I am now surrounded by people who are truly good people with good intentions.
I love them.
My marriage had many happy times but wasn't healthy. It made knots in my stomach. It made me cry and feel genuinely confused. I fought to save it and the harder I fought, the worse it got. Nothing made sense. And then when I knew why and how it collapsed, I fell into a deeper hole. Nothing but nothing should make you feel like that.
My life is better now. Better than it has been my entire adult life.
I fought to get right. My mind was stripped bare. It was the single worse thing that has ever happened to me. To literally feel like a wrapper to your body. A shell. To feel vulnerable and fear that you aren't taking care of your child. To watch your child have to assume the role of an adult multiple times. As a survival tactic. The inadequacy that you feel when that happens...it is unimaginable. But I rebuilt my head. I used a solid foundation. My daughter is stronger than she has ever been. Now she can lean on me again. Losing my head and rebuilding it all was the best thing because I rid myself of the compromised areas.
I feel calm and stronger.
I have control again. And I will never lose it.
I still don't trust others well. But I have a better awareness of people and I try not to put myself in the path of those who would take advantage of me. So I spend time with people worthy of that leap of trust. I feel it coming back. But it is new this time. Because I am wiser.
My body.
Now that I am getting my head right, I can run 13 miles. And hopefully, I get my focus back to become the bikini competitor that I once was a short lifetime ago.
I want my body back.
But this time, It will be for me.
Waking up yesterday and getting the call that my father had died was a punch I was bracing myself for this week. He was in hospice. His beloved Red Sox had won. He died in his sleep. He is not in pain. He won't need to feel the pain or the struggle to breathe that he has been experiencing. Peace is good. He was given the grace that a man such as himself deserves, To just drift away in comfortable rest. I am thankful. But I can't get my head around the fact that we will never see each other again. But still, I feel some peace.
I stood there feeling like I needed to be strong. For my daughter. My brothers. My stepmother. So that the wonderful man who was hugging me didn't have to take care of me even though he wanted to do so. Someone who I care about who makes me feel safe. And I still go through life feeling afraid that my grief will inconvenience others. And that I need to apologize for having feelings. I realized that I have lost the ability to be vulnerable. And that makes me very sad. Because there are feelings that I need to feel. But I am afraid that if I do, I will lose my grip on one of my strongholds.
I have lost the ability to let go and really feel things. I walk around braced, ready to take a punch 24/7. I never stop. And for that, I am tired.
I really pray that this precious thing that I have lost will return. I can make peace with everything else. But this I want back. And I hope that time makes that happen. Because without the ability to be vulnerable, I will never completely
Feel at home.
Be a good friend.
Give my heart to someone.
Think clearly.
Trust fully.
Be 100% healed from this loss.
So instead of bracing for a punch, I am going to need to go limp.
I've had several people ask if I would write about trust and relationships and I haven't because I shouldn't write about something that I don't know how to do.
Right?
Unless writing about not knowing how to trust is what they meant? If so, hang on to your ass, Fred! We're getting into this.
Of this subject, I am an expert.
I wasn't always this way and I am not like this on every level. My friend Tiffany knows the code to my front door. I send my daughter to the mall with my credit card. I don't always check my bag before leaving the drive-thru.
I trust, damn it.
But do I trust in romantic relationships?
Well, I want to.
I am trying really hard. Especially now.
I want to give a man the same trust that I give to the Arby's drive-thru.
I gave my full trust and heart to my marriage. But in return, I stopped trusting myself. I ignored my instincts. And then I misplaced them. That's a really bad thing to lose. It left me completely confused about reality.
And damn it, what if it's permanent?
Where are they?
Probably having shots with my trust, laughing and enjoying their hiatus.
Do I trust men or do they constantly have other lines cast out into the water "just in case"? And if they do, does that mean that I am not enough for someone? When I am interested in a man, I stop entertaining the idea of others. I don't message other men. I focus. Otherwise, how do you know? But do men do this too?
I feel like that is the biggest thing you deal with after any kind of breakup. Wondering why your 100% wasn't satisfying enough for someone?
That's my biggest fear right now. Second only to the fear that the feeling won't ever go away.
OR...
Do I trust myself or do I constantly lie to myself because being single and dating people for a week is just easier than opening up and trusting again? That's a hard truth. Because people aren't bad. They're just not perfect. And I get scared too easily.
I've never been a "check the bag at the drive-thru" kinda girl. Not on an order for myself. I just trust and go.
Here you are, miles away and you are either the person who goes back or you eat the thing and wish you had what you wanted in the 1st place.
Or you go in and order, make sure it's right and leave with a guarantee that what you need is in the bag. But you go in because you don't fully trust. At some point, we need to let go and trust. Not at the beginning but eventually. Doubt Town. That is nowhere to permanently live.
That is life in a nutshell.
When do you start to trust completely? It's the most freeing and beautiful thing about a relationship, drive-thru or romantic. The convenience to letting go of doubt.
You know what's the tits? Those random weird fries at the bottom of the bag. The one or two waffle or curly fries when you ordered seasoned fries? You didn't even know that you wanted one but when the universe tosses one in...well, if that doesn't give you a natural high then we can't be friends. And normally, that happens only at the drive-thru.
That's what I want.
I want to trust someone enough to have the reciprocal relationship that I have with Arby's. An equal partnership. I won't underpay and hopefully, they won't short me either. And in return for that trust, the universe will throw me the occasional curly fry to remind me that I'm alive.
I know what you're thinking, "She just called me a fat fuck!"
I said, "We".
"We ALL are"
Oh.
That's better.
Wait...
What?
Not only is food everywhere for most of us, we have options. Oh, so many options. We develop specific tastes. Social media tells us where and what to hashtag and order. Food types become popular and all of the sudden, we're all eating avocado toast like it's not just freaking toast and spread.
And we forgot that we really like peanut butter.
Now, I love breakfast foods more than the average person. Right next to beards and Star Wars, breakfast foods are my jam.
insert toast and jam joke here
So let's acknowledge that I am not anti-breakfast foods.
And...
I love avocado toast.
I LOVE choices.
But, I can't discount the fact that we will eventually find ourselves sitting in restaurants, berating the experience because they only have regular toast. I mean, WHO doesn't have the avocado toast for cripes sake? Or, they HAVE avocado toast but they don't use a balsamic reduction on it? Or burrata cheese as an accompaniment?
There's sea salt but no pink Himalayan sea salt?
Savages.
This is us.
In every sense,
this is us.
Our abundant and probably unnecessary choices have left us with an unquenchable taste for different and more. So much more that we can't even.
Literally.
Fat fucks.
You can weigh 92 pounds and to act this way qualifies you as such.
Now, I love great foods. And yes, I have pink Hymalian sea salt in my kitchen. I have a cheese drawer in my refrigerator and I just opened it to find the exact spelling of burrata. Also, to eat some burrata. Remember, I said "ALL". I too am a fat fuck.
But, as per usual, my point is to come because we aren't going to bash food.
Take that negativity over to your favorite diet blog's comment section.
Not on my watch.
No, we are talking about excess and our insatiable hunger for what we're told to want. And how it can take us from fueling ourselves for what we need to over-indulgence. Expecting the beyond and not appreciating the simple. And why it leaves us unsatisfied.
We indulge and indulge and we're never full. There must be something better out there, right? We partake and taste until we are desensitized.
And we feel like shit.
And we sit at home and wonder why we did it.
Why did I eat all that shit?
I'm not satisfied.
See? Fat fucks.
News flash! Obviously, and I hope that you picked this up, this is not about food.
Yeah, I am talking about people...again. Because this blog has always been about human relationships and how I view the world. And just what confuses me. And what I need answers to in this life.
You see, I throw it out there and the Universe hits back answers. It's pretty nifty.
Last night, someone messaged me and called me "a snack".
1st off, I immediately wondered what kind of snack and then I WANTED a snack.
And, I messaged back, "I'm a full-course dining experience."
WRONG ANSWER, NICOLE!
Shit.
See, this is why the weirdos come back and I need use my block button so often. My bad.
I'm learning. Cut me a little slack.
But eventually, the right man will get my point.
Do you get my point?
No?
Ok...here it is.
There is a legion of people that are snacks out there. Let's be polite and call them the Legion of Snacks. Men and women.
Now, I love snacks and I indulge. Sometimes, I just don't want a big meal. I want to stand over my sink and eat something that is quick and delicious. I want to forgo the napkin and lick my fingers. Because my intention is immediate gratification or I am just starving and I don't want to wait until dinner.
Will I starve? Literally? Nope.
But I want it.
Now.
And it looks so good. The packaging, the zero prep.
All with the intention of still eating dinner.
But sometimes we snack so much that we are too full for dinner. Or, we just don't want to cook. Do the dishes. Go to the store.
So, we want a thicc lil snack.
I get it.
I love thicc snacks and I cannot lie.
But I can't live happily on snacks.
Here's the problem.
If you spend all of your time eating snacks over the sink, you won't know how to sit down for a full-course dining experience.
You won't know how to behave. How to savor each course. What fork to use.
Then, we're savages.
Shit, we're barely capable of it because we are all snacks and apps.
All avocado toast and quick bites because it is heavily advertised on our news feeds.
Filtered and shirtless...the Legion of Snacks.
Delicious.
What does that make us?
Because I am not innocent in all of this.
I am well aware that it doesn't satiate my hunger.
I am eventually left feeling unsatisfied and looking for more snacks.
And that fucking toast, whether I like it or not because I am supposed to like it...right?
Only my single friends really get it.
Hear that.
Married folks, love your spaghetti nights every Wednesday.
That is some satisfying stuff. You have food at home.
Women know when we post a picture that is attractive too, BTW. We know that we look like a snack. When I see guys with a ton of snacks on their friends and followers list, I immediately see it as a sign of insecurity.
Yup. We immediately see you as less attractive.
And in our Secret Snack Meetings, we discuss this. You see, women only post snack pics to get the attention of one, maybe two guys at best. Very specific men. If you constantly Love her pics and she won't go out with you, guess what? You're a fat fuck.
Figuratively.
She doesn't like you that way. You're filler.
Ladies, this goes for us too.
Hear me now.
That was my Ted Talk moment. You're welcome.
My point here is we need to figure out why we are content at this point in time being told what to do. What to like. And why are we ruining our appetites?
How do we separate those who just like snacks from those who want dinner on the table nightly?
Because we're wasting each other's time and spoiling our appetites.
