How I Know My Heart!

My first wedding anniversary with The Man is tomorrow.  It’s hard to believe that it has been twelve months since we stood hand-in-hand amongst flowers and friends sharing our hearts and committing ourselves to each other.  Looking back, I see a perfect day—one that expressed our hearts completely.  We had no traditions for the sake of traditions – no hiding behind ceremony and pomp…..it was The Man and Me proclaiming our vows in a very vulnerable and dynamic way…with moments that twelve months from now I am still savoring! 

It was a long journey getting from broken heart to fullness of life—it wasn’t easy!  I spent many a night with a box of Tagalongs, a bottle of wine, and Under the Tuscan Sun.  The Man pursued me with 80’s music I had never heard of, quotes from G. K. Chesterson, and through his love of cooking.  We danced and we sang (actually he sang) and we debated everything from the Easter Bunny to music to whether or not dill should go in his Serbian salad.  Our hearts intertwined through mutual respect and joy. 

How easy it would have been to miss each other……

I have written many times about the importance of a List—you know, a thoughtful list of the type of person you would like to share your life with.  Dating is one big job interview---seriously….you are looking at the person, their interactions, personality and character traits to see if you are a good match.  If you can’t describe in detail the person you want to be with, how will you know if you find them??  We like to think that there is a big “aha” moment when we meet the “one.”  The truth is, sometimes our own dysfunction gets in the way of reality. 

Consider this:  when one gets divorced, ideally, she will take time to look inside herself and grow and change to be a healthier person.  Many people take years to unpack their issues – either on their own or in counseling to move to a better place in their lives.  They begin to see the differences inside themselves and start considering a serious relationship.  Sticking Point:  if you choose the wrong person, you don’t have a chance to take off the training wheels and use the lessons you have learned to have a healthy relationship-----you go right back into CrazyVille and that train ain’t stoppin for nobody.  It is easier to find the wrong person than the right person…….time always tells……and the wrong person can make anyone crazy!!!!

So back to my list and my butterflies…..  Here is my list and here is the proof that I am a very, very lucky girl!!! 

Passionate about God – this fits Veso to a tee……he eschews “religion” for the real deal----and lives his life as a person compassionate to others, giving and generous and seeks Truth.  This is something I appreciate so much about him!!

Passionate about a cause.  What I am learning is that it doesn’t have to be MY cause that he is passionate about – this one actually made me smile tonight. 

Nice Dresser – seriously, it may seem shallow, but I want to be able to look across the room and think, “dang, my man looks awesome!!!.”  

Has close friends - this is a must for me!

Attentive – This may be my favorite thing about him!!!!

Hangs back a bit….a watcher – After being with someone for many years who resented anyone who stole the limelight from him, I wanted to be able to shine on my own at times and not be resented for it.  This was essential for my heart!  I needed a man who measured his words and let others speak and who was perceptive of those around him.  V is so secure in who he is that he doesn't have to prove his worth by dominating conversations....he is generous in his listening to others.  He wants to get to know people on a real level and get beyond the surface.  

Sweet – Check!

Wants to grow – How refreshing it is to be with a person who is ever improving and ever learning.  It inspires me to do the same!!!!

Athletic – OMG – check!! I adore his soccer-man bootie!!!  J

Makes things happen – check!

Close to his family – quite honestly, this was so, so, so important to me.  I love my family and I could never be with someone who was ambivalent towards theirs.  V is a good son, a good brother and a very good dad.  I adore this about him!

Engages with other people – For a long time, I watched The Man on the soccer field—observing how he interacted with others and how they reacted to him.  He truly engages with other people, encourages them, asks them about their lives and laughs…..I love his laugh!!! 

Entreprenurial, Professional – check!

Likes Art, Music, Food, and Travel – Blessed am I that he is passionate about all these things!!!!!! 

Has a list of things he wants to accomplish – check…..not a written out list, but he has a loose plan for sure!

Positive outlook – Very much so!!

Reads – He is a true truth seeker and is constantly reading and learning.

Likes to Dance – Hooray!!!!!!!!!!  He is an 80’s dancing machine!!!!

Spontaneous – Way more than me for sure!!!

How lucky am I to have found someone who completely fits the bill!!  It doesn’t matter how “nice” they are or how “cute” they are or how many butterflies they put in our insides….. they have to be right for you.  My list is not your list….my priorities are not your priorities….. what matters is being focused on the type of partner you need in life and becoming a good partner yourself.

I feel quite blessed that The Man and I crossed each other’s paths and that we stopped long enough to realize that we were indeed a good fit……. Had we not paid attention, we would have missed it.  He is the love of my life….a partner in the truest sense.  He sees me----really “Sees” me and gives me the confidence to be even More “Me.”

Love you, Babe!  Happy Anniversary! 

A Letter to the Ex-Wife

After meeting with a girlfriend and sharing common stories over a bottle of wine, it became apparent a blog must be written about being the new Mrs. X.  A few weeks ago, I wrote a letter to the new Mrs. X with a  few little hints for survival with my children and their mama bear (me)…but there was another letter I really needed to write but deep down, I am one big fried chicken….I don’t want to be misconstrued and I certainly don’t want to cause unnecessary drama…..

But……as I put on my Wayfarers…….step into a pair of The Man’s boxers……pull up my tube sox and slide down the hallway to the tunes of Bob Seger……...I think to myself………sometimes…you just have to say what the flick…………flock……….fleck whatever it is that you have to say at such times……

Dear Ex-Wife:

We share a few special people in common.  Being an ex-wife myself, I completely understand your position.  I understand your frustrations…..I understand the need to emotionally distance yourself from a man who was in your life for a very, very long time…and I understand the emptiness that it brings.  However, there are a few things that you need to understand about me.

I am a good person.  I like puppies and ducks….and baby chickies (at least until they grow bigger into scary chickens).  One of the best things about me is my heart.  I do think about your heart and I try as much as I can to have empathy and understand where you are coming from.  Because my heart is big, there is more real estate to make me vulnerable…..your words can hurt me…they can piss me off…..they can make me apathetic…..they can send me on a shopping therapy spree lasting a whole weekend…..but there can still be hurt.  Although I am a big girl and can hold my own, arrows can hit their mark.  I expect you to trash talk to your friends, to your family, and to your man (after all, I have friends, family and a man, too)…..but please be sensitive……(I say this to myself as well).  I don’t expect you to care about my heart, but words are long lasting things that sometimes have unexpected consequences.  Sometimes we mean to hurt one person with them but they change direction and hurt someone completely unintended—like shrapnel. 

You should know that I will never undermine you to your children.  Period.  Enough said….but it needs to be said.  I would expect the same from my X’s new Mrs. 

Know that I could be a great ally.   I can be an extra hand. 

We have graduations, birthdays, and grandchildren to think about.  How great would it be if we could all celebrate together!! 

You should also know that I understand your hurt.  I understand the deconstruction of a marriage.  I know betrayal, loneliness, and the scary feeling of being single at 40----holy cow…..don’t I ever know those things.  However, I also know that my husband is a good father and a good man….part of the above celebrating together has got to include a peace treaty…..seriously. 

Know that I can enrich your children’s lives – not in a competitive sense….not in a parental sense……but in the sense that I can bring things into their lives that are uniquely mine…..not in competition with you, but rather to complement you….. I have no motherhood to offer them – that is your job.  I get the easy stuff….I know that….I didn’t change their diaper or hear their first words….but I am here to offer a word of encouragement, a sassy opinion, and even a project or two to work on when necessary.  I bring two kids of my own to the mix….making it all a birth order fruit basket upset for sure….but their interactions enrich their lives…..and gives them more people to care about. 

Lastly, I want to apologize for my own awkwardness.  I come near you and I don’t know what to say…..I get tongue tied and go all shy-girl.  You’ve been a part of the family much longer than I have and it can be a little intimidating.  Please don’t misconstrue my social awkwardness for anything other than it is……

So….let’s call a peace treaty…..let’s love the kids in our lives…..and try to make things a bit less awkward…..I am game if you are. 

B

A Letter to the Future Mrs. X

A girlfriend and I had a long lunch with cocktails the other day.  The topic du jour was being a Mrs. X –you know….the woman who marries your X who without fail will be criticized about everything from her parenting skills to her nail polish color to the number on the bathroom scale.  We all hope the new Mrs. X will be dumb as a box of rocks, have a behind the size of Texas and, of course, make our X miserable so he will finally learn what  a SOB he is/was. 

In reality, we should pine away for the perfect woman – someone who will be pleasant to talk to at family functions…..someone with a sense of humor so when Junior shows up at their house with his latest ant farm project and proceeds to drop said project on the floor shattering an ant world all over her kitchen……she won’t commit homicide….. We should want someone good to our children and who treats them with dignity and respect……..

It’s a stinky job…..being the Mrs. X.  You inherit all of the family disfunction….not just your own, but your Man’s, too.  You not only inherit his family, his kids, the dog, the goldfish and the Bob Marley album collection---you also inherit his X…..let me repeat that…..yes, you inherit his X—who most probably will hate you till the day she dies. 

My X is getting married this summer.  The new wifey isn’t exactly who I would pick to be the step-mom in my kids' lives…..but I wasn’t actually consulted…..and quite honestly, if I chose…..I would probably pick someone with the above qualities…..you know….dumb as a box of rocks and someone at LEAST a jeans size larger than me…..maybe even two…. BUT, in the spirit of charity, the Easter Bunny, spring lambs and April Fools day, I am giving the future Mrs. X a little help….just a little. 

Dear Future Mrs. X:

I know you are madly in love with my X---I know right now everything is all tulips and sunshine and I genuinely hope that you two will be eternally happy….etc. etc. etc.  Being a step-mom and dealing with me will not be a walk in the park……I apologize in advance.  If the X and I could deal with our dysfunction properly…..well….he wouldn’t be my X……  Here are a few tips to make your life a bit easier as the new Mrs. X.

Treat my children kindly and with respect.  This is non-negotiable.  Feel free to enforce your house rules, but know that there is a line.

At family functions, talk to my kids…..engage with them.  Find out what they like and who they are…..they are pretty good kids…..I know they remind you of my existence and of a life you weren’t a part of…..but embrace it because they aren’t going anywhere.

Don’t try to drive a wedge between my X and our kids.  Don’t badmouth their mother……..I have heard that she can go from zero to psycho in about 15 seconds……so keep your thoughts about my life to yourself and to your hubbie….don’t speak of them to my children.

When you see me, be polite.  It’s a scary thing being around the former Mrs. X….. I have been there….but remember, there are many weddings, graduations, birthday parties, and births to attend……  Better yet, bring a bottle of wine and a couple of glasses---we will probably both need a drink. 

Encourage my X to spend time with his children…..make some new traditions (just don’t make them conflict with mine---remember that zero to psycho comment).   Include them in your plans. 

And lastly, be patient….it takes more time that you ever thought for kids to warm up to the newbie.  It takes more time than it should.   But if you invest in their lives, you will eventually get a return. 

All the best,

Me.

Well, They Call Them Xs for a Reason

I friend of mine sits on a bench at the courthouse checking email trying to look nonchalant.  Toes tapping...brows furrowing....small sighs escape...tick....tick....tick....tick.....  waiting....waiting...waiting... waiting....  The man beside her leans over and whispers loudy, "getting a divorce??"  Surprised and completely off guard, my friend answers, "how could you tell??"  The man leans back, smiles and says, "no woman looks this pissed sitting at the courthouse unless she is getting a divorce."

What is it about our Xs that set us off--catapulting right back to the moment it ended--to the moment they broke our hearts--to the moments where we feel like we have to defend ourselves??  I was a good wife--you were just to self-absorbed to see it....I listened, cooked, cleaned, seduced, balanced the kids, the checkbook, the menu....I picked up your slack AND mine while making it seem effortless.....did I make it seem effortless??  Are you realizing my efforts now???  Do you see how much I did for you?? 

It's futile, really.  I mean....really.  If he was too self-absorbed to see it then, he will be too self-absorbed to see it now.  But...to be honest, after 3 1/2 years of the divorce being final, I have come to the place where I don't care if he realizes it.  Still....at times, I am held captive to the emotion of our undoing.  Sometimes little chickadee or junior will say something that comes straight out of his mouth....or use the same catch phrases...or have the same mannerisms...and the fingernails start grating down the chalkboard.  Breathe Becky....breathe....  Oh and Lord forbid The Man say something that reminds me of the X - I can go from zero to Betty B...B...B...B.... in 0.6 seconds.  But that is now....and my friend is where I was then....in that spot where you just want to fast forward past all the formalities and get on with your life....but you are forced to interact and work together...and it Just-Feels-Like kaka. 

So what to do when you are in the thick of it???  Just smile....and remember.....that there is a reason we call them Xs.....

Diary of an Angry Greek Woman

My first encounter with Medea was in the early days of dating The Man. He invited me to a movie, Medea Goes to Jail. He mentioned that this was a continuation of the Medea movie, Diary of an Angry Black Woman. I was *so* excited….I just love documentaries… the grit, the true life stories and this one sounded right up my alley. I pictured Africa…Johannesburg…women marching for equal treatment... When the first preview came on, my excitement came to a screeeeeching halt. *Oh* Tyler Perry is not an artsy indy filmmaker. Um…yeah… The Man kept glancing at me nervously at every punch line wondering, “why isn’t she laughing??” I kept subtly glancing at him, “did he just laugh at that?” Time moved in slow motion - the complete opposite of warp speed - I tried to smile and look cute…feign interest…wishing this movie theater served something a little more potent than milk duds…..

That was my first encounter with Medea. Imagine my surprise this semester when our assignment was to read Medea by Euripides. Tyler Perry just went up a notch in my mind. Medea? There is another Medea? I was instantly intrigued.

It’s an age-old story, really. Girl leaves her homeland…her family…her friends…to marry her hero - the celebrated Jason (as in Jason and the Argonauts). She helps him create his fortune by assisting him in his quest for the golden fleece. She is smart, beautiful, loyal…..he becomes her life….she has his children and is a devoted wife. They are the ultimate Power Couple--the Ken and Barbie of Ancient Greece. With her brains and his ambition, they can go places. That is…..until he traded her in for a new model….young, cute…..and a princess to boot. I can picture their conversation in my mind…..Medea: “But I got you where you are today - it was with my help that you succeeded.” Jason: “I would have succeeded with or without you…you really didn’t do that much to help…it was by MY hard work that I got where I am today.” I see Medea standing there….hearing those words that tore her heart….pleading with her husband to stay…not to abandon their long marriage. My heart starts to pound…my blood is reaching its boiling point…. Jason: “and just think…..it will be much better for the kids…..they will have little brothers and sisters who will be heirs to the throne….think of them for once…think of the opportunities it will give our children.” annnnnnd the Waterford crashes into the living room wall. I wonder - is he related to my X?? Early ancestor, maybe?? Jason: “I am sending you away - but you’ll have a nice house.” CRASH! Jason: “Why can’t you just accept this? You are so difficult!” CRASH- CRASH-CRASH-CRASH!!! Sister, I am there!! I am there in spades!!

Medea is devastated, hurt, angry, and alone. She has lost her husband, her friends, her house, and her lifestyle. She is one angry woman. She plots…plans….and manipulates her circumstances in order to bring him pain. She becomes a woman obsessed with showing the world how much he hurt her---to show the world what a bad father he is--to show the world that she is right and he is wrong. He was unfaithful not her….why is she being punished? She wanted to work on the relationship--he didn’t….the world needs to know that Jason…the revered Jason is a fraud. Medea looks for the way to cause him the most pain - - and she finds it….through his children.

In Euripides’ story, Medea plots to kill her children. I would be hard-pressed to find any woman willing to stoop to that level to cause their X’s that much pain. However, quite often I see women (and men) attempting to kill the relationship between their children and the other parent. It’s so subtle….a comment here and there about how unreliable they are, about their financial support, about their new girlfriend. I see them scheduling play dates, family outings, or girl scout meetings on the other parent’s weekend. She ignores simple, reasonable requests. She brings them late or picks them up early…..and visitation becomes a hassle in the children’s mind. Mom is happy because she feels vindicated because the kids chose to stay with her during Dad’s time.

I understand…..I am there sometimes….pick me not him….pick me not him!! Sometimes I just want to push the X off his pedestal like a kid playing King of the Mountain. Just one push…one quick hard push…. Why should he get to be the good guy?? It’s not fair!! I work hard to be a mom. I make the difficult decisions. I sacrificed for my family…stayed home to be a mom instead of finishing my degree and starting a career. But here’s the thing - kids need their dads and their moms. My new mantra is, “they are an X for a reason.” What he does now isn’t part of my current equation - he is my X-husband…..but he is not my kids’ X-father. He may not keep his house the way I would keep my house (holy cow, it would involve a bulldozer), he may not keep the children accountable like I would (just call him Mr. Cha-ching) and he may not date women I think are appropriate (I would prefer they be actual grown-ups) :)  but he is still their dad and I need to give their relationship the utmost respect.

Your kids may never see how he wronged you….how much he hurt you….how you are the superior parent. To be honest, although that is a gratifying thought, it’s not a healthy thought. Part of me wants my kids to see it, but part of me knows that if and when they do, they are going to experience my pain, feel my abandonment, and mourn the daddy they once knew who has now fallen off his pedestal. It’s not worth it. My vindication is not worth my child’s heart.

Just walk away knowing that he is an X for a reason…..and whistle a happy tune.

A Lesson in Forgiveness

I just finished reading a book by Immaculee Ilibagiza about her experience in surviving the genocide in Rwanda in the early 1990’s. The book, Left to Tell, is an inspiring story of survival, love, and learning to forgive those who have caused immeasurable pain.

Forgiveness……I remember that word. It means, in essence, that the other person doesn’t owe you anything - there is no debt to be repaid, no suffering required, no payback. Forgiveness is not forgetting, but it’s more of a remembering without malice. Many times, forgiveness is a process and sometimes you find yourself back at the beginning when you were about to “win” the game. Forgiveness is not easy…..especially in the case of my X where I find myself having an endless supply of new things to be ticked off about and all of the old patterns and ancient hurts resurface.

Reading the words of Immaculee, I find myself drawn to her struggle - drawn to how honest she is about the difficulty in forgiving. Immaculee had decided in her heart to forgive former friends who brutally murdered her family, her neighbors, her schoolmates. She seemed to have already won the battle of forgiveness….passed into the other side….taken the high road. But then, after the genocide is over, she visits her family home. She writes:

As we drove away from my home, past the unmarked mounds of dirt that covered Mother and [my brother], I felt the bitter, dirty taste of hatred in my mouth…I looked at the faces peering at us as we passed, and I knew with all my heart that those people had blood on their hands - their neighbors blood…my family’s blood. I wanted the soldiers to douse Mataba in gasoline and let me light the match that would reduce it to ashes….My soul was at war with itself. I’d struggled so hard to forgive, but now felt duped for having done so; I had no clemency left in me. Seeing my home in ruins and visiting the lonely, forgotten graces of my loved ones had choked the life out of my forgiving spirit.

For me, the most difficult part about forgiving is the fear that my pain will be forgotten - that all of my tears would be for nothing…they wouldn’t count anymore because everything will be “okay.” When the chalkboard of offenses is erased, my tears and my hurt go with it. Sometimes, I just want my pain to matter….to be important….to be remembered. The hard part is that pain takes a lot of energy to hold onto. Have you ever tried to hold onto a cat that desperately wants to flee? Holding onto hurt and pain is like holding onto that cat - it takes a lot of energy – energy that sucks the life out of your heart.

Although I can’t imagine forgiving my former friends and neighbors from brutally murdering my family, I do know what it feels like to forgive a former friend for her part in tearing apart the nice little life I had built for myself and my family. To be honest, the hurt was exhausting and holding onto it kept me angry and bitter for a good long year. I am not by nature an angry and bitter person. One day, I woke up and knew it was time….time to forgive. I drove to her house, heart thumping loudly, knocked on her door, and said….”I just don’t want to hate you anymore.” We talked for a long time sitting on her living room floor. She cried….I cried…. I finally had to ask, “Are you even sorry? Did my hurt matter to you?” Honestly, I didn’t feel as if my hurt mattered to anyone - I felt abandoned…by my husband, by friends, my church. Since my X was a worship pastor, we had been cast out of the church…my friends felt awkward around me…and although I tried to shelter my teenage children, they heard the rumors and they were hurting. My carefully crafted life was in ashes, but to stay there amidst the ashes…to build a memorial there…to camp out on the shore of bitterness and hurt would be resigning myself to a life of bitterness and hurt…so I had to choose. What do you want, Becky? A life where you are totally pissed off at your X about what he did or did not do? Is that what you really want?? Do you want to be one of those people who have to get in a snarky word at every turn--to prove that I am the victim and he made the biggest mistake of his life when he lost me? Really?

When Immaculee saw the man who led the band of murderers in her village - the man who killed her mother, father, and brothers…not just in a night of mayhem, but who actually hunted them down and killed them. He had hunted her as well - wanted her family’s property as his own. When Immaculee came face to face with her former neighbor…the father of her childhood friends….the brutal murderer of her family, she touched his hand lightly and quietly said, “I forgive you.” The politician in charge of arresting those who committed these atrocities was livid! He wanted her to spit on this man’s face…to shame him…to exact vengeance. When he asked Immaculee why she would forgive such a man, she replied, “Forgiveness is all I have to offer.” She had no family, no money….only forgiveness…but in offering that forgiveness, she gave herself something that money can’t buy - a whole heart….a heart that can love again, hope again, trust again. By forgiving, she allowed herself to live.

I want to shout it out to every ex-wife out there - Live!!! Move on!! Forgive!! Make your new life beautiful and let your ex do the same! May I remember that lesson myself every single day!

Paintbrushes and Vision Boards

One thing that kept me sane during my divorce was the promise of an opportunity to paint my life the way I wanted it……to use bright colors and hues……to be bold and creative…to create a living masterpiece. I have a coffee can full of paintbrushes…small and large…heavy and light…to paint my life. Lately though, the thought of my life portrait has been making me a little……well….crazy!!!! I can do anything I want, be anyone I want to be…..my kids are grown and out of the house so I have the time to pursue the things I love...wine…. cheese…. art…. chocolate…..good books…. outings with friends….so what gives??

The question that looms in my mind is, “what if the picture I paint doesn’t turn out just right…what if I draw it wrong, use the wrong colors?” “What if what I think I want right now isn’t what I want.” “Do I even know what I want??” I feel like a 6 year-old saying I want to be a princess when I grow up….I want to live in a mansion on the beach with horses and a shiny new bike…..I want to ride elephants in India and dive for pearls in Tahiti…..and be a professional ice skater. For a girl who was raised to be decisive, my life right now is anything but.

Part of the issue is The Man and I have been dating for almost a year and a half. I can’t dodge the, “is it serious?” question anymore because….well….it is serious. I kindof like him and could see him around when I am 80 and chasing monkeys off my back porch in Thailand. Our relationship has brought back the feelings of being rooted and settled….of hanging out on the deck at night instead of having a glass of wine at a bar….of kids and family and household chores….but that question of how I am going to paint my life looms in the background….I have to share my painting….am I okay with that?? What if we hate each other in 10 years?? What if we love each other in 10 years and are stuck in a rut?? What if….what if….what if?? It’s maddening!!!!!

This morning, I went back to my vision board to see what I envisioned for 2010. Every January, my girlfriends and I create a poster-board of our vision for our lives in the coming year. We hang out, cut pictures out of magazines, talk, share, and create our vision for the year. Some ladies keep all of their boards, but I throw the previous one away to keep the focus on the current year.

Looking at my vision board, I see lots of words:

Reimagine Yourselves as Weekend Connoisseurs**Have Cheese, Will Picnic**Living the Unexpected Challenge Yourself **May the life within you be strong**LIVE!**12 Months of Good Health
Acts of Friendship**Savor**Dance**Difference**A killer Pair of Heels**SOUL

and lots of images:

Pancakes, outdoor dining, beach chairs, terracotta pots, fruits and vegetables, picnic baskets, journal writing, farmers’ markets, friends having coffee, margaritas, canned tomatoes, a rolling pin, books, serene backyard scenes

When I look at my vision board for 2010, I was surprised. I am not waiting to paint my life….deciding what it should look like…..it’s already here….already complete….the masterpiece of my heart. The life I really want is now and I am already living it. I look at my vision board and breathe. It’s not about the big master plan it’s about living each moment as I want to….adding beauty and sparkle to the every day. I don’t have to choose…..I just have to live….to be myself…and savor the moments that make ordinary life special.

Mutual Accountability

One would think I’d be happy….. After all, I am home an hour early from class…..have more time to get my work “to do’s” done, study, and get ready for my outing this evening with The Man. One would think……

The problem is, however, that I am quite unhappy about it. Of all the classes I took this semester, this was the one I was most excited about….the one that grabbed me and said, “oh you must take this class.” It was love at first course-catalog sight. This class had the potential of being a perfect match…a soul mate of sorts….. We’d read works such as Dostoevsky, Tolstoy, Hemmingway, Kafka, and O’Connor while discussing threads of sin and redemption. I dreamed of passionate discussions, new insights, and connecting with others through sharing of opinions. Reality hits…….no one is reading the books. When I say no one, I mean maybe five people out of 25 are actually capable of opening a book and reading it. It’s like reading someone’s Match.com profile, thinking you’d have a great connection, and then realizing in the first 5 minutes that you have been duped. Yes, he said he loved art and fine food, but he failed to mention that to him that meant comic books and Bravo Italian Kitchen.

I did a lot of thinking on my drive home….mostly thinking of how this applies to life and to relationships. This class with all its potential is now my most dreaded class. It’s not because I have a bad professor….he actually has great insights and a great knowledge of literature. I dread this class because it seems pointless……pointless because no one really engages. Most people are checked out……or checked in….to facebook….to email…..to their doodles on paper. There is no interaction….we just co-exist in a classroom for 3 hours a week. Hmmmmmm……sounds a lot like my marriage.

When two people don’t engage with each other, it feels lonely…..it feels empty…..it feels like one big, fat rejection. I cannot say how many people I speak to who are lonely in their marriages. Yes, they have tried counseling…..yes, they have tried date nights…..yes, they have tried more sex…..but the problem is that they are not engaging with one another. I remember asking the X early in our separation if he wanted a divorce. The X said “no,” he wasn’t ready for divorce. The problem was, however, that although he was not for divorce, he really wasn’t for marriage either….he was ambivalent....just biding his time. I wonder how many people are out there who are in a relationship who aren’t ready to leave, but are simply co-existing until something happens……either they get too old to care or until the other person gets sick of it and leaves first. **NEWS FLASH** If you do what you have always done, you will get what you have always gotten. If you refuse to engage and invest in the relationship, you will not get returns….things will not get better….things will not change…..ever. If this is you, why not figure out how to truly and heartfully reconnect with your spouse….no strings attached….record of wrongs thrown out the door…..giving life together an honest try. There are a lot of people who say they “try” to make things better with their spouses….but I am sorry, just like the fellow students in my fiction class, showing up does not equal an effort. The fact that your body warms a bed in your home does not equate a try.

It really twerps me off knowing that I busted my fanny to read the material due for class and look around and see that the majority of others could care less. This is not a required class - it’s an elective….so if you aren’t going to do the work, why waste our time?

Some would say they are only hurting themselves and that I should just feel proud that I am doing the work. The problem is that their ambivalence hurts the whole class. We cannot have class discussions of any sort…..they disrupt the class with their own goings on…..or simply try at any point to get completely off topic so they can talk. During counseling, my X didn’t do the assigned work, was not willing to look inside himself and his family life to discover the junk he brought to the table and was, quite frankly, ambivalent about our marriage. His lack of engagement spoke volumes about his true priorities and feelings….and it hurt….a lot. Eventually, I quit counseling….what was the point? There was no mutual accountability….no iron sharpening iron…..no growing together….we did what we always did……and grew……apart.

In Crime and Punishment, Razumikhin describes Raskolnikov, “He’s magnanimous and kind. He doesn’t like expressing his feelings and would rather perpetrate some cruelty than express in words what’s in his heart…sometimes he’s terribly uncommunicative! No time for anybody, everything’s in his way, while actually he’s just lying around, not doing a thing. No jokes, and that’s not because he lacks wit, but as though he had no time for such trifles.” To me, this is the picture of a person withdrawn from a relationship….someone who would rather be petty than explain what is on her heart…someone who clams up, gets frustrated with everyone wasting her time, and losing her sense of humor….someone who is not real anymore….she is just existing.

In relationships, we are mutually accountable - - we are accountable to be real with each other….living and sharing real lives….even if it is messy for a while. We owe it to those around us.

So…..lesson and reminder to myself…..engage…..do not withdraw. When life gets a little (or a lot) messy, resist the urge to withdraw and keep my distance. When life gets busy, engage in the present moment not on my “To Do” list. My self-protective tendency is to hide my heart away…..to not let myself hope for good things when it’s risky…..to lie to myself and say that “I just don’t care.” When I refuse to engage, I am not just hurting myself, I am hurting those people who are investing in a relationship with me.

Snowplow

Nothing screams “You are alone!” like a snow covered driveway needing to be shoveled. My driveway is steep…..so steep I have to walk down my lawn sometimes to the mailbox to keep from slipping. My little powder blue Audi A4, Carlito, sits low to the ground and, like me, is better suited for sunny days and the beach than 30 degrees and snow.

The snow plows left giant berms of grey ice and snow in front of my driveway. Snow drifts of alpine proportions covered everything in a blanket of white. You couldn’t even tell where the driveway was. Carlito is a german-engineered sexy love machine….pretty to look at….fun to drive……but no good at plowing through snow and ice up a steep driveway.

Shoveling snow is a new thing for me. When I was married, we had a gravel driveway and a tractor, so there was never a need for a snow shovel. I had no idea about the techniques and tricks to shoveling a drive. I look at my neighbors’ pristine snow free driveways and wonder, “how in the world do they do that?” Secretly, I was hoping that I would wake up to a snow free driveway - much like the story of the shoemaker and the elves….you get up and voila….work is done. But alas, I looked out the window and *sigh* snow still there……Carlito still parked on the street.

I pull on my snow boots, find a hat and a pair of gloves and began to dig out my driveway. The first 5 minutes were okay - - I kept seeing cars pass by…..people waving…..and wondering why they don’t offer to help….after all…..I am a single mom…..a girl outside shoveling a mammoth driveway…..where is chivalry…..servanthood…….sympathy?? Remembering that this is my driveway and my responsibility…..I continued to shovel….scrape….and slide snow from one end to the other. *sigh* “I hate being alone” repeats in my head over and over again…..I want to be a part of a team, not a lone ranger. The sound of the snow shovel scraping concrete is a reminder that I am responsible for myself…..that if I don’t shovel this driveway, it won’t be done…..that when the rubber hits the road….I have got to take care of me.....because no one else will. I wish I could say that this is an empowering feeling, but quite honestly, I just wanted to sit down in the snow in my driveway and pout. But what good is pouting when there is no one to pout to…..just me, the snow shovel and two tons of snow.

Seeing that my pity party is just wasting time, I try to at least get a good workout while scooping, scraping, and shoveling. Abs, hips and thighs all got their workouts and I started to sweat. Forty-five minutes later, half the driveway is done. I can pull Carlito in the driveway and be glad that I finished.

The Argument Hangover

I wake up slowly…….my head hurts…I ask my self, “what did I just do??” and groan while throwing the covers up over my head. “What did I say??” “What must he think of me??” Regret sets in…….lots and lots of regret. I check my text messages on my phone and review my words……those angry hurtful words…. What now?? I need caffeine….. and maybe even a trip to Tahiti.

My phone lights up……a text message from The Man with lots of x’s and o’s. He is so good to me….. but then again….he said hurtful things too….. how do I respond?? Do I wait……make him sweat it out….that way I can be a little less sorry…..because he will be more sorry.... I send a couple of x’s and o’s his way (but a few less than his)…. and try to find a way to get back to square one.

We talk our argument through…..make up…hug…and remind each other how much we care. Why is it then, while sitting on the couch next to him that I still feel ucky…..and empty? Things feel unresolved….weird…..awkward… Is it a red flag? Does it mean we aren’t meant for each other?? I get all introspective and examine the feelings in the depth of my heart. No - - it’s just the Argument Hangover.

Hangover?? From an argument?? Really?? Of course. Over the last few weeks, I have given much thought to those days following our heated arguments (yes, I know - it’s a shocker that The Man and I fight…..but you get two passionate and opinionated people in the same room….and sometimes….there are fireworks). There seems to consistently be a period of time after such debates that is just downright uncomfortable. I have labeled these times the Argument Hangover.

Sometimes I feel a fight coming on - - it’s somehow, “in the air.” We are both a little edgy….a baby bit defensive…..the wind changes a bit and I know that “it’s on!” Adrenaline flows through my veins quicker than a shot of moonshine…..my inhibitions are lowered…..as I suddenly feel the need to slam a door……to bang around pots and pans….to sigh and huff around. Words flow too freely….stories get exaggerated….I start forgetting what I just said and begin to incessantly repeat myself. Am I drunk?? No…… at least not on alcohol…..but drunk on my emotions….my feelings….my need to be “right.” And then……afterwards…..regret sets in. Thoughts of, “I know better…” and “I’m too old for this…” permeate my brain…… my head hurts from all the tears I cried and I’m ready to jump on Orbitz and book my one way ticket to Mexico.

I put my head on The Man’s shoulder and he asks me if there is anything I still want to talk about. I shake my head and sigh…..”no, not really.” He asks, “is it just the argument hangover?” I nod my head…..he puts his arms around me…kisses my cheek and we snuggle on the couch and let the ickiness pass…..and I know that eventually, everything will be okay.

Polynomial Expressions

As a part of living my Best Life, I have decided to return to school and finish the degree I put off for so long. When I got married and had children, that “piece of paper” saying I was a contributing, intelligent member of society lost its luster….became less important. Now that I am on my own, the lack of intellectual “pedigree” is a Vegas-sized flashing light beckoning me to come back….come back…

As if my life wasn’t complicated enough……

But….it’s for me….and I have decided to jump back into the world of academia…..at 40+ years old… How bad can it be??

Registering for classes was somewhat simple. Gone are the endless lines at the registrar’s office…everything is now online. Of course, my transfer credits are not at the number I would like for them to be (who knew that courses like English Composition and Philosophy had expiration dates…) but I figure I will get that all sorted out after I get my feet a little wet.

First on the agenda is taking a math placement test so I can get a math class out of the way. Now mind you, math is not my strong suit…..as a matter of fact…..the thought of doing math problems makes me break out in hives, but the test must be done and I am determined not to take remedial math.

I enlisted the help of my favorite person….my man….The Man. In my book, having a math degree is one degree shy of being a super hero. Bursting into my living room, cape flying….The Man declared, “Madam….I’ll save you!!!!” The Man began explaining the complexities of Polynumeric-binomial-triconfuso expressions…. I cocked my head to the side….squinted….sipped my glass of wine….and paused…. “You have no idea what I just said, do you?” the Man patiently declared….. I retorted, “If I did, I would already have a math degree…” The Man spent the next hour and a half patiently explaining….re-explaining…and listening to my endless questions of “why are they called irrational?” .. "why is f(x) really “Y”….why don’t they just call it “Y"?” He is a saint…it was past midnight already…I have put in a nomination for canonization with the Pope…..

Why are we frantically studying math at that hour??

Well……ahem….on a whim, I decided that the time to take the test was now and scheduled the seemingly benign math placement test….tomorrow. After all, I am a good shopper (and hence good at shopping math) and the reason I would TAKE algebra was to learn algebra….so how hard could the test be? After scheduling the test, I researched what I needed to know….. Horror of horrors……I was clueless!! Help was needed!! I frantically wrote the following Rescue Me! email to The Man.

Subject: OMG!! I think I need a wee bit of help!!!!!!!

Did a bit of prelim looking at skills needed to “pass” the placement test (and not have to take a stupid remedial class)…..

TO BE PLACED INTO: Math 104, 108, 118, 150, 170

• Add, subtract, multiply and divide whole numbers and decimals. Check
• Solve simple word problems involving the above operations and numbers. Check
 • Make comparisons and perform calculations with fractions, decimals, and percents. Check
 • Solve multiple-step word problems involving fractions, decimals, ratio, percents, average, and proportional reasoning. Check-ish
 • Solve word problems involving perimeter and area. Check – I think – Perimeter is simple adding and area is height*width – correct?
 • Find square roots. Um………I can define it……but I don’t remember how to find it…..
 • Solve simple equations using a variable. Check
 • Understand order relationships between signed numbers. What in the hell is a signed number??? Are they in counseling??
 • Perform simple operations with negative and positive integers. Those are negative and positive numbers, correct??
 • Know and understand the order of operations. Um…..shop first….drink second?? Maybe – Parenthesis first….then…???
 • Perform simple operations with radicals. Like Osama Ben Laden?? Help!!!!!
 • Factor polynomials and quadratic expressions. Factor?? Quadratic Expressions?? Like Yebese?? (Serbian swear word) Help!!!
 • Solve simple quadratic equations by factoring. I am so sunk!!!
• Perform simple operations with polynomials. Like taking out a spleen?? What is a Polynomial? Are they friendly?
• Solve simple rational equations. Obviously, I do not hang out with rationals….only irrationals….
 • Simplify and evaluate algebraic expressions. :) =good  :( =Sad ;)=Sassy
 • Graph linear equations. Um…..Help!!!!
 • Solve word problems involving algebraic principles. I think I can do this…..

TO BE PLACED INTO: Math 105, 107, 119

• All of the above plus
 • Solve systems of linear equations (equalities) with two variables by graphing and/or algebraic manipulation. Manipulation – aaaahhh something I can finally understand!!!!
 • Manipulate factors to simplify complex fractions. Um….is this to actually GET a math degree???
 • Work with algebraic expressions involving real number exponents. I know that I *should* know what an exponent is….
 • Solve absolute value equations. I am absolutely going to have to take remedial math!
 • Graph simple parabolas. Sounds like something you would need hand sanitizer for….
 • Have a basic understanding of function notation, such as determining the value of a function for a specific number in the domain. What??
 • Show a limited understanding of the concept of function on a more sophisticated level, such as determining the value of the composition of two functions. Conjunction junction….what’s that function…..Ahem....English Major!!! 
 • Have a rudimentary understanding of coordinate geometry. Um – I can find Mexico…..
 • Have a rudimentary understanding of exponential functions and logarithmic functions. I hate math!!!!!

Well….Here’s to growth…..and to exploring things unknown…things undiscovered!! And kudos to the people in my life who encourage me….help me….and even, from time to time rush in….cape flying in the wind…and rescue me from the scary things in life (even if they are just a math problem).

Match Game

It took me almost two weeks on Match to finally decide to come out of my shell...my nice, comfy, protective shell…..and actually meet a Match “prospect” in person. This process is much like the game we play as kids…..you know, the one where you put all the cards face down on the floor and turn over two at a time to find a match. It’s time consuming….it’s frustrating…..but when you find something that looks like a match, you go for coffee. I should have bought shares in Starbucks, Inc.!!!!

Date Number 1

I was a bit nervous….heck I was a LOT nervous!!! The Rebound Guy was the first guy I dated after the divorce…..AND…..before him, I had only gone out on two first dates. I strategized with my girlfriends (who were so excited that I expected to see them incognito at strategic places in Starbucks). Googling first date “rules” seemed to help a bit…what to do if I arrived first (wait to order a drink..) (does Starbucks add liquid courage to their coffee???)….. how long to stay..(be aware of the time--don’t over-linger) what to wear…(nice sweater and a dark pair of jeans…scarf)… whew!!!

DateMan 1 was there waiting for me when I walked in. A moment of fear gripped me! What now?? How do I greet someone I have never met…never talked to on the phone …who is not a business contact but a “date” of sorts?? Pulling myself together, I walked up to him and decided to “wing it.” He smiled and mentioned something about this moment always being awkward gave me a hug and bought me a Grande Earl Grey Tea.

We sat down in front of the fire and the conversation flowed easily. After an hour or so, it was time to leave. He walked me to my car and said what a great time he had. He asked me if we could go on an “official” date and I said “Yes!” Later that afternoon, he texted me a couple of times……the next day he texted me…..and then…….then…. then…. nothing! What the heck?? Okay….maybe he read the “Rules” and was waiting for the opportune moment…..waiting that three day grace period so he didn’t seem too interested…..so….I waited….and waited…and waited…..calling my girlfriends…my guyfriends….the telephone operator….the founder of Match.com….the mailman…. wondering what is the procedure from here on out??

Finally after 5 days, I decided that any guy who was EVER going to date me might as well get used to me being…well…me. He might as well get used to the impulsive….complicated …and sometimes emotional being that I am…..so I broke every dating rule on the planet and emailed him with the following…..

     Dear DateMan1:

     I had a wonderful time on our date and feel like we had great conversation and a good connection. As you know, my dating experience has been pretty limited and the majority of experience I had was from the 80’s….. so….. in that spirit….. are you interested?? Check yes or no. If yes, then some contact would be helpful…. If no, I had a delightful time and wish you well on your search.  Becky

DateMan1 responded back with the following:

     Dear Becky:

     One of the hardest things to do in dating is choosing. You never know if the one you didn’t choose would end up being the right for you… We had a great connection and I enjoyed our time together. However, I have found a girl that I want to get to know better and I am not the type of guy who can date multiple girls at one time. If things don’t work out, maybe we can get together again… DateMan1

Back to the drawing board!!! Frustration sets in….. on to Date 2…3…4…5..6…

Interesting side note - - I saw DateMan1 on a date this fall.  He was waiting for his date to show and hitting on a girl in my group before the date’s arrival…. He mentioned that he really wasn’t “into” the girl he was waiting on…. But of course, after her arrival he was staring into his date’s eyes and sharing her food…. Suddenly, a year later sitting next to my wonderful, caring man, I felt lucky….so very, very, very lucky!!!

Colors and Hues

In my year of blogging, I’ve spent a lot of time writing about my journey as a divorced woman - - a journey of discovery….in discovering who I am and who I want to be. My mission is to be as transparent as I can appropriately be.  Recently, I've discovered that there is one place where I have not been so transparent - - both in my blog and in my life. I have hidden a painful place so deep inside me that it doesn’t see the light of day. These forgotten fears/emotions/hurts are like weeds…..waiting dormant until the opportune moment (or in my case, typically the most inopportune moments).

Why bring up something that is past history?? Why dredge up old feelings?? Is it appropriate?? Is it helpful?? Will I look like a victim?? Well…..it’s time. As the old Randy Travis song says…..I’m digging up bones…..exhuming things that are better left alone.  It’s time to let those things see the light of day.  Left in the dark, they subtly color my feelings…..cast a hue on circumstances…distorting them ever so slightly….and then….my coping mechanisms kick in and I want to run and hide…..walk out….leave the room…..end a relationship……or better yet….hide in my anger….or in my harsh words.

My ex-husband’s affair with a close girlfriend shattered my world….it pierced the illusion I had that our marriage was good and was strong - an illusion I completely bought into. People would ask me, “How could you not know??” or simply state, “you must have known on some level.” Those words pierced my heart even deeper…..how could I have not known?? I am pretty perceptive……how did I not pick up on it?? How did I not see it?

In truth, the x and my friend were very good in their deception - - they lied, they manipulated, and they were careful….very careful. I felt like such a fool! I lost trust in my X, I lost trust in my friends, and most devastatingly, I lost trust in myself….in my gut.

Their affair caused me to feel:

Less of a woman - - I was not enough for him….emotionally….physically.  My friend seemed to be all I wasn’t - creative….beautiful….tall…..model thin body… with an air of “please rescue me..” The hardest part was his explanation...... “Becky, it wasn’t about the sex…..I just liked her better….she is my best friend.” Ouch!! The sex I could attribute to a midlife crisis (a Porsche would have been better)…..but the emotional connection screamed simultaneously….. “You aren’t enough” and “Becky, you are just too much!!”  

Alone - my friends had to pick sides as we were all “one big happy family” and now they had four very unhappy people in a big mess. In one fell-swoop I lost my husband, my girlfriends, my position as a pastor’s wife, my support group…. People would call……. but sometimes I wondered if it was more for the latest gossip than to actually support me.

Angry - so.. so very angry - angry at God for allowing this to happen….angry at myself for allowing it to happen…..angry at my life…..angry at my house out in the country isolating me……just freaking angry! I wanted to build a big bonfire and burn every memory we had together!! Instead, I took apart my beautiful king sized four-poster Rice Bed,…put it in the basement…..threw away my sheets, pillowcases, and comforter…. and slept on the floor.

Afraid - what would happen next?? Would anyone want me again?? I felt like a chipped and broken tea pot on the clearance aisle at Home Goods….unwanted…..headed to the Island of Misfit Toys….lost in oblivion…… I was ashamed....ashamed of telling people that my husband had an affair.....ashamed of what it seemed to say about me as a woman...as a wife.  Like Hester Pryne....I felt like I had a big A on my chest for all to see and for all to judge...and I didn't even commit the offense.. 

How would I support myself?? Where would I go?? What would I do?? My fear paralyzed me for a good year….I couldn’t function…I couldn’t think….all I could do was sit on the floor and cry. Nights were scary.  I was used to having a man in the house. Living on a 650 acre farm….every noise….every creak terrified me….screamed to me that I had no one to protect me.

Lost…..so….so…so utterly lost…..and hopeless….feeling unattractive ….unloved. My ex was more worried about the “other woman” and what she was going through than with taking care of his wife whom he had promised to love and to cherish….. I had spent 16 years with him….does that not count for something?? Everything I had worked for…sacrificed for… my carefully built home was damaged. I had made the decision to stay home with my family for 11 years….to take care of them… to love them. Everything I knew was about being a wife and a mom and about running our small businesses…..Now what??

After about a year of being a victim….feeling powerless…..I decided to get up….put on my big girl boots….be strong…..and create my life the way I want it. I pushed all thoughts and fears into the recesses of my soul...never to see the light of day again.  The problem is….. the issue can be…. that I never…ever want to go back there again! I don’t want to be in a position where I don’t know….can’t see….or just am not aware that the love is gone. I am like a sentry - on guard - searching out possible threats….creating scenarios in my head of danger…..and allowing beautiful things to be colored with shades of fear.

Those colors and hues affect my perception....my relationships....even the relationship I have with my children - - I am terrified that they will find me lacking just as my X did - - that their lives are forever changed.  I know I am not the mom that I used to be...with family dinners...games...vacations...outings....and quite honestly, it makes me defensive....very, very defensive. 

In 30 days, it will be 5 years since the discovery of my X’s affair and it is finally time to face the scary things…. to know them… to allow the hurt to come to light…..to be open and not hidden….and be a beautiful part of who I have become…not to wallow and get stuck…. but to acknowledge where I have come from and what I have gone through….. acknowledge it…. respect it…. And not be afraid of it.

So this is the year of Reclaiming.  Reclaiming my hope.....reclaiming my life.... Restoring the things that were lost...that seemed forever gone.  Last year was about finding out who I want to be - - this year is about remembering who I was.....and more importantly....remembering the beauty and not just the pain.

Wallowing in Happiness

Sometimes, I just wallow……I have a bad day….a bad week….a bad year…. I open a bottle of wine……pour a pot of earl grey tea……devour a box of tagalongs….and cry on the shoulders of my girlfriends…..and they understand me…..love me…and support me. But sometimes I wonder……am I allowed to wallow in happiness?? Better yet….do I allow myself to wallow in happiness.

T.S. Eliot wrote in The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, “I have measured my life with coffee spoons.” Do I do that with happiness?? Do I measure it out with a teaspoon?? Not too much…..just a small bit will do…..after all, I don’t want to be obnoxious….to brag….to set myself up for a fall.

Why is it that when I am happy, I downplay it all? Why do I hesitate to share it to the full extent? Will others accept my joy as much as they accept my pain? If I share my excitement for the future……will I look like a fool if it doesn’t work out??

I have found myself mulling over this a lot lately. I have noticed that I measure out my happiness….my success…..my joy. I am quick to point out my failings. When someone walks into my house, I make sure to point out how messy it is…..when someone compliments how I look, I am quick to acknowledge those few pounds I’ve gained. It’s not that I can’t accept a compliment with a simple, “thank you.” Oh, I can do that…but in my head, I tick off the things they didn’t notice….or that they just didn’t share.

So, I think I am going to practice the art of happiness……or better yet….the art of sharing my happiness. Truth is…..at this point in my life, I am happy…I have such hope for the future. My hope is not about a certain relationship (although that is going very, very well)….my hope is about where I am going….what I am planning….. For the first time in my life, I get to plan the life I have always wanted and it is exciting. At 40+ years old, I no longer care about the shoulds and want to focus on the coulds.

So for today…..instead of wallowing in the muck and the mire of a crazy life…..I choose to roll down hills of flowers…to lie on the warm earth…..watch the clouds and dream of possibilities…..and best of all, learn to share….to share my success….to share my joy…and to share my hope of good things to come!

Galoshes

When life rains down on you, put on your galoshes and dance in the rain.

When I was a little girl, I loved to wear my galoshes. I had to walk to school every day…..and I loved the rainy days….those days meant for my clear, domed umbrella and….of course, my galoshes. No puddle was unexplored…unsplashed….no curbside river was left untouched. In my galoshes I was invincible…..safe…..unfettered by the rain.

Fast forward three and a half decades…….I am standing in the home of the X….watching my bride-to-be daughter give direction to those of us setting up for the wedding….she is so beautiful…and excited.


The wedding-weekend weather seemed a bit sketchy…..cold…and rainy….so I packed my cute black galoshes with bright red cherries just in case the reception tent became a muddy mess (yes, I was a girl scout….always prepared). So……on Friday, there I was standing in the home of the X….or more appropriately CLEANING the home of the X….the home where I raised my children…my dogs….my horses….my cows…it seemed that my X was neither a boy scout nor a girl scout as he certainly was not prepared for 160 people to descend upon his home in 24 hours…….but *ahem* that’s why he is the X. But in the end, I love my daughter more than I want to see my X squirm so I cleaned…and cleaned and cleaned… (I am expecting a nomination for sainthood from the Pope any day now)….. and not surprisingly, without an ounce of gratitude or even a simple thank you from the X…..

The stress level begins to mount……

Having a house full of people was a great distraction to me that weekend…..I got to cook….to entertain….to open wine bottles I’d been saving (gotta love that Rockpile Zin…..yum!)…. It also gave me an excuse to show up for the wedding just in time to help the daughter into her wedding dress……she was absolutely stunning! The most beautiful bride I have EVER seen!!!

The X’s house is full of people…..it’s cold outside…..very, very cold outside…so as people arrived, they gravitated to the house instead of the outside chairs. Thankfully, we had prepared a separate room for my family and me to get ready for the wedding. I plugged in my curling iron and slipped on my red Jessica Rabbit dress (I hadn’t intended to dress as the “Hot Mother of the Bride” but try finding a red semi-formal dress without vavavoom!). I slipped into the powder room to put on my makeup. Suddenly, someone burst into the room….all bouncy with a high-pitched over-the-top girl greeting…..it was an old “friend” of mine (you know….the one I wrote about in my last blog…the one who ditched me to hang out with my X)……I tried to match her excitement…..to give her the benefit of the doubt…..to reconcile my feelings with how she was greeting me……I hugged her back and resumed making myself forever-photo ready.

Walking into the dressing room, I noticed my curling iron was unplugged…..my things had been moved…..and saw that my “friend” had taken over my space. Furious, I walked back out of the door……heart pounding…..palms sweating…..and stopped in the hallway…wondering what to do. The home was now completely full of people and there was nowhere for me to go……what to do…what to do…… It hit me…..I am the Mother of the Bride… Turning around, I opened the door and walked back in (Pale Rider playing in the background of my mind)…..I firmly but calmly ask my old friend to please find another place to get dressed…and told her how I felt about her ignoring my emails and Facebook requests. Did she hear my voice quiver? Did she have any idea how awkward this was for me….did she even care?? Now I feel like a jerk……I am stressed to the max…..I need a drink….well….maybe drinking isn’t a good idea…..

Pulling myself together, I head to the center of the house where friends and family were congregating. There was a sea of people and all seemed a blur….noise all around me…..people all around me…..stress….stress…stress……I look around and saw a familiar pair of warm brown eyes watching me….loving me….waiting for me….. The Man puts his hand on my shoulders and I breathe a sigh of relief. This is going to be okay……

The wedding was beautiful……my daughter is now a Mrs. and we head to the reception. Although I won’t bore you with all of the crazy details of the ceremony, photos, and reception blunders…..I will tell you that I now call it National Lampoons Wedding Week….as there was craziness after craziness after craziness….but like Clark Griswold’s Christmas decorations…..all turned out beautiful.

Sitting in my chair at the reception, drinking a glass of fine red wine….I reflected on the day……wondering how I was going to get through the rest of the evening with me on one side and the X on the other…..with His and Hers family and friends on either side of the dance floor. Then…….I remembered…..I had brought them after all……my cherry galoshes are under the gift table….waiting. I looked at the Man and said, “It’s time for the galoshes.” Slipping them on was such a freeing moment…….galoshes with a stunning red dress……that is soooo Becky Pruitt…… I grabbed the Man’s hand, stepped out onto the dance floor and splashed in every puddle life gave me that day.

Ouch!!!!

So……my feelings are hurt…..really, really hurt. I am not sure why - after all this time - that they are still hurt, but I cannot lie….it smarts!

Going through separations and a divorce with the X was very difficult……and it is expected to be difficult. It’s hard to live with and love someone for 16++ years and suddenly let go. That is expected and a “known” factor. The unexpected, however, was the friends who suddenly disappeared from my life as a result.

I understand that this is common……I understand that people feel they have to choose one person over another…..or that they may refuse to choose and leave both parties behind. It is understood in my mind, but that message has a hard time traveling to my heart. I invested myself in my friends…..I cared for them…..and allowed myself to be transparent enough for them to take care of me in return. We cried together and played together……learned together and laughed together. What happened????

My friends leaving was almost as devastating as my X leaving. Given…..the X and I were together way longer than my friends and I were…..but in all reality, I can see the things I did to put a wedge between myself and the X…..I can see how I hurt him…..deeply at times…..I remember (cringingly) the fights, the hurtful words, the drama that happens at the end of a marriage…..and (although I don’t like it) I can see why he felt he needed to leave. But my friends…..what happened?? It seemed as if they were there one minute and then they were gone….poof….out of my life forever. Why? Well….I KNOW why……the uncomfortableness…..the busy-ness…..the “out of sight, out of mind” syndrome…..and the inevitable….”I just like the X better…..we have more in common…..” Ouch!! Really??? You want to pick HIM?? Really??

Now some say that if my friends left, then they weren’t really my friends. While this is a comforting thought…..I have pretty much dismissed it out of hand. How many times have I gotten busy with my life and left friendships to wither in the dust? How many times have I not known what to say and then said nothing at all? How many times have I lost contact with someone I really connected with? Did it hurt them? I think it did…. Sometimes people suck (myself included). People miss the mark. They hurt people they care about……and…..sometimes…..I think they simply stop caring. Ouch!

So…..I have tried to get back in touch with one said friend. I email her from time to time and have even sent a facebook friend request. It’s been sitting around…..unanswered…..until I checked last night…..and it was officially ignored. Ouch! I racked my brains……what in the world did I do?? How did we go from close girlfriends….to casual friends…..to “I can only be friends with your X?”

How I want to fix it!! How I want to internalize it and make it somehow a result of my actions……so I can fix it…..and make everything right…….

But….the lesson for me today is not to fix……not to take on guilt that is not mine to take……and like my Man always tells me….to be sad and be okay that you are sad….period….no fixing…..no need to force the rainbow….no tying it all up with a big pretty red ribbon. In other words….be real…..and allow others to be real in return. It doesn’t have to make sense…it is what it is.

To Punt or Not to Punt

Another week, another guest blog. I love reading the perspective of others! It keeps me encouraged on my own journey.....

This week, The Man steps in and gives his perspective. I am confident that after you read his post, you will instantly know why I love this man!!! He is so fabulous!!

For those reading on Facebook, remember to check out my official blog page at www.divorced-diva.blogspot.com Enjoy!!


Football is finally back. Monday’s workouts at the health club are
always more robust with the ESPN highlights adding a needed adrenalin rush to offset the usual Monday reluctance to get back into the swing of things. Time to warm up on the elliptical, watch precious footage of Jessica Simpson’s ex-boyfriend losing in their new gazillion dollar stadium (with a scoreboard costing more than the old stadium), and crack open the latest Sports Illustrated.

While considering how the makers of the mammoth Dallas scoreboard failed to do some basic math to determine how high it should be in order to be missed by a punt, I found a story of a high school coach who did some statistical analysis and determined that punting was a mistake.. not just sometimes, but always.. . His team has not punted in over 2 years, and they don’t plan on punting.. ever.. They don’t bother trying to return punts either.. In case you are wondering if this is an act of sheer lunacy, his team won the 5A State Championship.. in the glorious state of Arkansas, home of your friend and mine, the Divorced Diva (which seemed like my lightning bolt from the sky to finally write a guest blog in this space).

Here is an example of some analysis the coached used to make his decision:

"If Pulaski has a fourth-and-8 at its own 5-yard line, Kelley said his explosive offense likely will convert a first down at least 50 percent of the time. If it fails to convert, statistical data from the college level shows that an opponent acquiring the ball inside the 10-yard line scores a touchdown 90 percent of the time. If Pulaski punts away (i.e., a 40-yard punt with a 10-yard return) the other team will start with the ball on the 38-yard line and score a touchdown 77 percent of the time. The difference is only 13 percent."

So simply put, the risk/reward ratio favors not punting, even in this extreme example.

Now, before the objectors storm the gates.. Yes, this team has an explosive offense.. Yes, it’s high school and the punters are not that great.. and yes, there are exceptions to this ‘rule’.. Having said that, the question still remains.. why is punting the ‘rule’ and ‘going for it’ the exception in today’s game, and not the other way around? Even using the most strict statistical analysis, the bottom line is that at every level of football, coaches and teams do not ‘go for it’ as often as they should.

The answer.. according to the article.. briefly put is ‘saving face’. A coach doesn’t want to have to face an administration having risked it on a fourth down and failing.. So instead of choosing an opportunity for victory, the coach and the team may fall short of their potential at best, or die a sure and slow death at worst..

Hmmm..

Do any life applications come to mind when hearing this? If ‘going for it’ on 4th down can be likened to winning the game of life and relationships by having love, intimacy (knowing and being known), truth, trust, openness, vulnerability, understanding, etc.. and punting were likened to ‘throwing in the towel’ and temporarily or permanently giving up on those things, what does it mean to go for it, even on 4th down? When do we play it safe and punt, hoping to not lose ground, instead of going for it, to actually win the game?

Every Sunday on ‘my weekends’, I drop off my boys after spending 5 days with them. Every time, it’s hard, and I usually cry. If and when I talk to my girlfriend around that period.. I usually mention it.. I don’t know if it’s a flaw, and I am surely not trying to impress her, but I know it’s sharing a very real piece of how I am feeling, in real time. For all I know, it may be getting on her nerves by now, so it’s risky.. It would be much safer to not even bring it up, and there was a time I wouldn’t have done so. For you, it may not even be equivalent to a 4th down. For me, it’s like 4th and 10 at my own 30 yard line.. a risk.. And I’m still not sure it will get me the first down.

After months of dating, there comes the inevitable argument(s)(some of you out there only have 1 per relationship, so please bear with us who don’t get it yet!). She feels bad, really bad for her stuff, and her part, and is sorry and says so.. and there are walls between us.. I see my part as clear as day, but hey, why mention it? It’s safer to keep it out of the conversation. After all, I would have to admit that I was wrong about something I defended so convincingly before. Goodness, talk about risk! 4th down, 15 yards to go.. Just punt.. play it safe! I can just be really forgiving you know (and isn’t it nice that she will offload some of my guilt)! Should I let her know and admit that I totally blew it.. again? Should I let her know that I struggle in this area, and it might take a while for me to get ‘better’ at it? Shhh Punt! … she will never know!

The ‘defensive’ and ‘safe’ move, makes it harder to win… when winning is defined by things that make a relationship truly successful (intimacy keeps coming to mind – knowing and being known).. Revealing our true selves (especially our flaws) usually feels risky, and hiding our true selves usually feels safe, but in actually, the opposite is true! Honestly, from my experience, it seems more like every time I punt, it gets returned for a touchdown against me, and whenever I ‘go for it’, I make at least a first down, and sometimes even score a touchdown..


Now I will be the first to admit, that ‘going for it’ doesn’t always ‘work’ in the way we might want it to, or think it should.. For example, in a previous relationship much of my ‘openness’ and ‘vulnerability’ seemed to ultimately backfire (relationship ended).. But truth be told, the situation and risk taking revealed our incompatibility, resulting in the ending of a relationship that wasn’t meant to be.. a winning play in the grand scheme of things.. My hope and desire is that I would live more and more in a way to win the game, and less and less to save face, or to play it safe.. punting less, and going for it more..

Well.. you may be facing a 4th and 5 at the 50 yard line.. Are you going to punt, or go for it? What’s your play coach?

Thoughts from the Daughter.......Ken and Barbie

In the spirit of having my blog, The Divorced Diva's Guide to Survival, be a true guide to survival - to give a true perspective on divorce and getting through the process, I have asked a few people to guest blog their experiences. My daughter, a lovely, complex, competent, young woman has agreed to share her thoughts............


It is 3am and I have been writing paragraphs and pages only to scratch them all out. I was asked to write a piece about being a child of divorced parents quite some time ago. It has been one of those things that you put off so long that it’s all you can think about. How do I write about my experience of my parent’s divorce? How do I write about something that still has an effect on me?

Every little girl dreams of meeting Prince Charming. We imagine it, we draw it in pictures, and we enact it with our Barbie and Ken dolls. The term “happily ever after” is taught to us all throughout our lifetime. Like when you have your first serious boyfriend, you think it will last forever. Then the next week you break up, your world is shattered. I had this crush on this guy when I was a freshman in high school. He was the first guy I ever truly liked...and surprise! He liked me too! So we get to talking and have lots of mutual interests. But one slight problem...I was not allowed to date. In my mind it wouldn't matter...he liked me I liked him...end of story. We were going to be together forever yada yada. Well that very next week he was into another girl. Sad story. The same goes with watching your parents get divorced. Your whole life, you see these two people together, walking through life with you, and you think it will be that way forever. When you find out that it doesn't exist anymore...this ideal of happy parents...it is just as much of a sad story as that first boy crush your freshman year of high school. It changes your perspective on everything.

I am getting married in 26 days. Two-six. Terrifying. These two opposing views of how relationships work make the prospect of marriage hard. I love my fiancée, he loves me…but what if it’s just a Barbie and Ken? I grew up knowing a happy set of parents, but then things happen and it doesn’t work. It creates doubt in my mind. My perspective has been changing...and I didn't ever believe that I would ever truly be comfortable getting married. However, the closer that wedding date approaches...the more calm I am. Marriage can happen for all of us.

Despite all of the doubt that past events can create for the future, the future is just that…still in the future. It is unknown and undecided. It is ready to be written. Natasha Beddingfield had it right in Unwritten:

Feel the rain on your skin
No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in
No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips
drench yourself in words unspoken
Live your life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins
the rest still unwritten

Why Being a Single Parent is Hard……

This weekend, I overheard a conversation between two ladies speaking of a woman they knew who was divorced. The ladies commented on how sad it was that this woman was not the parent she was when she was married. The woman (I’ll call her Sue just to give her a name) used to be “all about the kids.” Sue was a great mom who doted on her children, was creative, fun, and an engaged parent. Now that Sue is divorced and dating, her life has changed a bit……..and her “poor, poor children” don’t understand why mom is not available 24/7. The ladies continued their observation with the *shocking* statement - Sue now wants to have her ex take the kids every other weekend so she can spend time with her new boyfriend instead of splitting every weekend with her ex.

As I eavesdropped on the conversation, I felt a surge of protection for Sue…..I’ve BEEN there….I’ve DONE that……and I wanted to jump in the conversation and give these ladies some perspective…..

I too am not the parent I once was. My divorced friends with children have admitted to the same. Although I was never the perfect parent, I always tried to be around my kids…to have dinner at the table most nights…..to make breakfast on the weekends…..to have food in the refrigerator (a complaint I hear often now). I stayed home with my kids, planned parties, built fires outside, made cookies, played games, had fun family vacations, went shopping…..and had THE best holiday experiences.

I miss those times….a lot…..and many times I wish I could turn back the clock and make things work just to have that life back……but I can’t.

If I were to be brave enough to butt into that conversation, I would have spoken of how lonely being a single parent is…….where you once had another adult to unwind with at day’s end, now you are a parent 24/7. Where you once had someone to share the load with….you are now exhausted. Being a single parent is hard because you are torn between parenting your child and wanting to build new relationships…..and that takes time….time to spend together…..it is such a tug-of-war. Although some people would say that raising the children comes first (and I do agree in principle that it does)….what happens when the kids leave and the parent is left with nothing? As a 40 year old woman, that is a scary thought. My friends who are the same age feel the same. Do we really want to be 45 or 50 years old and THEN looking for someone to build a relationship with….really??

Although I do realize that the totality of my life is not whether or not I have a man in my life…….it sure is nice when you find that person…..life starts to feel a little “normal” again…..

Dealing with the X factor is another difficult thing about being a single parent. Nevermind the typical miscommunications and differences of opinions----one of the hardest things for me to hear is, “well, Dad said I could…..” Lordy, lordy….my temperature starts to rise….blood starts to boil….and the kettle starts to sing….. Suddenly, I feel as if I am in a competition with the X and he is winning (I so hate to lose). Now that my kids are older, it has gotten very difficult to refrain from spilling my guts over how I really feel about that…..and I am embarrassed to say that there are times that in the heat of “competition” I have been too quick to point out the flaws of said father figure in order for myself to look better…….and….it has backfired every time.

Truth be told, every time I hear those words, I am ushered back to the end of my marriage and the feelings of rejection that I felt. When my children say those things, I desperately want them to see me in that good light….to have me be their hero…..to know how much I want to do the best thing for them….even if it isn’t the most popular. I want them to see how I struggle with being a good parent…..how I agonize over every decision…..how inexplicably tired I get (and therefore how grouchy I can be sometimes). But those things are hard to show your kids without sounding like a big nag and without sounding like a guilt trip.

Now that my kids are both adults, it has gotten even more difficult in some ways. They get to choose who they spend holidays…..weekends……..vacations with. Hearing, “I’m going to stay with Dad for my time off….” or “I am having Thanksgiving with Dad..” pierce my heart. Of COURSE I want them to spend time with the X, of course he needs holidays too (ish)……and I understand in my mind that this is a good thing…….but I want to be selfish and keep them all to myself. In truth……it is just hard.

So……I chickened out of my impulse to butt in to the conversation…..Sue will continue to be the fallen star of the parent world….but I resolved to once again be transparent in a place where I would rather keep private….and share (even in a small way) my personal struggles hoping that it is an encouragement to those on this same journey.

New Horizons by David Gray

I heard this song on Pandora this morning and I just had to share the lyrics.....they touch my inner being so much and are just so true for me.....

I love the dichotomy of love.....or maybe more specifically, the dichotomy of self.

My favorite part....

So I'm gathering all the remnants of beauty
From this wilderness in spin
And now I'm gonna light my own flame
'cause I'm charged with the radiance of the dawn
That's been so long breaking

I love the phrase, "remnants of beauty..." it's like one of the beautiful quilts my grandma and great aunts make......remnants cut into flowers, stars, and little Dutch girls.....elaborately sewn together with a beautiful colorful thread......placed on top of a muslin sheet....and wonderful secondary designs quilted over them by hand with small, deliberate stitches.....designs that can only be seen from the otherside...the side not usually seen by the initial look....designs that can only be seen underneath......that is my life.....remnants of beauty from hurt, disappointment, words......they are shards of hope left in the aftermath....some big...some small.....but beauty nonetheless....remnants sewn together to create who I am.....a beautiful, imperfect work of art.

Enjoy the lyrics...


"New Horizons"

Weight on my shoulders
But I'm walking so tall
Out into the new horizon
Wonder in everything
No matter how great or small
Howlin' like the midnight
Howlin' like the midnight sun
And this ain't no pale reflection
This is the real thing
New horizon
New horizon within

And your heart ain't yours to control
No matter how tight the reigns
Love will find it's own direction
A time to reap, a time to sow
And many a time to cry in vain
But now the time to celebrate
The glory of this imperfection
Same thing that's scrawled across the stars
Is written under our skin
New horizon
New horizon within

Things come too easy, I get suspicious
Things come too slow, I get bored
If it don't work out I get superstitious
But if it does, oh my word

So I'm gathering all the remnants of beauty
From this wilderness in spin
And now I'm gonna light my own flame
'cause I'm charged with the radiance of the dawn
That's been so long breaking
Now there ain't nowhere
There ain't nowhere I won't write your name
There's a time to search for understanding
Sometime you just gotta sing
New horizon
New horizon within

Baby there's no need to get precious
When you know that everything must change
Complacency, it can be so vicious
Turn this love into a cage

Same thing that's scrawled across the stars
Is written under our skin
New horizon
New horizon within