Lately I’ve had time to listen to my iPod. I have several days of music, so rarely will I get through the entire library. The universe has been playing with my heart by playing through Mekissa Ehteridge. She sings it so much better than I can say it. Enjoy!
I hate to admit I’ve fallen victim to the Valentines pressure. I’ve almost made it successfully through the toughest part of the year for those who are single. But the tears are much too close to the surface and the heart is much too lonely.
I miss the feeling of being in love, of being loved. You don’t have to go far back in the posts to read how naively I embraced the idea I could be loved and that someone took time to shRe their love with me. My soul was malnurished and his adoration was the nutrients I needed.
My friends don’t see me as one who they’d set up – hell most of them don’t take much stock in me NOT dating. Me being single, in their eyes, seems to be just about right with the universe. Ok, really it’s just that my friends don’t bring up the subject and would rather keep things I discussed when it comes to my potential at non-singlehood.
So once again I’m back online a dating site. TThe free kind because I’m still too cheap to pay for rejection..
I’ve created a profile, added photos, but still need to complete the description section. I’m skeptic.
- Does anyone even read a profile or is it just a meat market of matching faces with desires?
- Can a woman nearly 50 even find a mate online when research shows men, no matter their age, are looking for women in their 20s?
- And speaking of research, men are looking for women who are thinner than the national average, taller than 5’7″ and incredibly athletic – so does an over weight,short, mildly active woman attract an eye?
- What do I write? Am I funny, philosophical, direct or brutally honest?
- Why can’t someone else create my profile so it is enticing and interesting?
Now, that old feeling of desperation creeps in. Checking to see if anyone is interested, wondering why no one is looking, over obsessing. To add salt to my open heart, the one person I went on a dinner date with 4 years ago is contacting me again through the site. If you remember, he was the all time worst first date in the history of first dates. An angry man who is sure women hate him because he has no sperm and enjoys shooting in the mountains. Is the universe trying to tell me that this is my only chance at mating up?
So there you go. I’m taking another chance before I decide I’m supposed to walk this path alone. Trying to be open to possibilities because I don’t want to stop wanting the joyful, warm feeling of being in love.
A series of emotional strains over the past month have made me keenly aware of what it costs to be single.
Need to get the car paired? Lean on friends for getting you back and forth. Does it need to stay longer than a day? Rent a car in order to make it to and from work. Needs to be repaired? Only one income to rummage through to find the extra cash. You’re taxed at a higher rate, have to budget for your family, sacrifice your medical needs to meet your kids….and it goes on.
Then there is the emotional stress of having to research, negotiate and make long-term decisions. Sure you can talk with friends and family, but they are short discussions and generally don’t have the same investment to help you really hash out options. Even with the best of hearts, they aren’t there in the middle of the night when you can’t sleep.
You become stronger when you’re alone because you have no other choice. No doubt this is a great benefit. But what you don’t realize, until it’s 3 in the morning and your bed is cold and lonely, is the strength doesn’t comfort.
You also become aware at how you build up walls to protect yourself from the hollowness you feel being alone. You begin to stop sharing your inner most feelings because there’s no point – nothing changes even when share your deep sadness. At the end of the day, you’re still alone. You begin to be superficial and gloss over conversations; asking questions and listening to deflect from details being asked of you.
Then you begin to wonder if now is the time to search out a mate or call it quits. You’ve already proven you can master life on your own. Is intimacy important or is self reliance the key to ultimate happiness? And so you close off that emotional need because it costs too much to keep it open.
Sitting in a coffee house, I overheard a conversation between two twenty-something women. Woman A was saying a close relative tells her she must take care of herself in order to keep her good looking husband. Woman B is upset the relative doesn’t make the same comments toward’s A’s husband. Woman A goes on to say the relative wants to be sure the husband wants to stick around. She starts thinking out loud about how she doesn’t want her husband to have affairs and of course, she wants to keep her shape and stay looking good, but she agrees with woman B that the husband needs to appreciate her beauty now.
Sigh. It takes everything I have. It to interrupt to give them a knock on the heads and tell them to wake the fuck up. A relationship is not built on superficial foundation of dress sizes and glowing skin. And if that’s all you have to grow old with then you both deserve to end up alone.
People have affairs for thousands of reasons. People get divorced for the same amount. In general, I’d say less than 1% have problems based on how the other looks. If you saw me in real-life, you’d know for certainty that no man who’s been involved with me is because I’m a Victoria Secret model. Quite opposite. I’m a frumpy, middle-aged woman that goes very unnoticed by society. And none of the men I have had encounters with are looking for outside relationships because their wives are no longer attractive.
Women are told from the beginning of their lives their value lies in how well they look and how sexually desirable they are. I’ve envied women who have this inherent beauty. Or who are able to afford to become beautiful. Admittedly, I’ve fallen into the trap of wondering if my lack of societal beauty is the reason I’m still single. How could I not when every message I receive in magazines, news, and my peers is superficial beauty is the end all be all of being a woman.
We’re heading into Valentine’s season when this message gets ramped up. Ladies, I challenge you to rise above. Think about what you give the world – your love, your heart, your mind, your soul. You’re a negotiator, a supporter, a compassionate listener and a strategic visionary. Tell that relative you have that you’ll go ahead and have ice cream for dinner and continue to love your husband. Go on and take the chance to have a relationship richer than some temporary fling based on looks and fashion. It’s up to us to empower each other to be more than a Barbie.
This time of year folks are making resolutions to make positive changes they hope will bring ultimate happiness. It’s a brand new start. Blank page. Open pathway.
I’m sure it won’t surprise you that I suck at resolutions. This year I decided to skip the whole thing because ultimately I end up breaking the promises I make myself and feel worse about myself than I did on December 31st.
So, I found myself in the gym January 1st feeling like a walking cliche. In my defense, I’ve been working on being healthier for over a year, and besides last month, have been fairly regular with the gym.
December was not my friend. Santa brought me coal with a high price tag. It’s paralyzed me. I’m not sure how to resolve the issues and should be spending time working on solutions, but instead I’m avoiding. I decided the gym was the way I could feel a sense of control and accomplishment. It’s working – well, to feel accomplishment, but I still have to take some steps for fixing my problem.
Instead of feeling that blinding hope for the next 365 days of the new year, I’m feeling dread. So, maybe I’m not a cliche after all. The good news, when it’s all over, I’ll be that much stronger – physically and emotionally.
Reading through WordPress on New Year’s Day has one rather large theme: love. Folks in search of the elusive emotion, those ready to leap from bad relationships, reminders to oneself of their own strength to walk a solo path, and countless people questioning their singlehood.
I have found an entire community in the blogosphere of like-minded people.
Of course I spent my day putting about the house, organizing, crafting, reading, and watching romantic movies. I’ve never seen Kate & Leopold. It’s a fairytale of a modern day woman falling in love with a 19th century man who came through time. The quote above caught me. How true the words. We continue to search out for the love we yearn for that’s imagined by media. But, as movies are prone to happy endings, Kate finds the love of her life and jumps back through time to embrace the love she longs for.
My life is not a movie. Everyone’s life is not a movie. We struggle, we hope, we hurt, and we desire. Which leaves me to walk through the door of 2016 wondering if this idea of love is a concrete concept or a figure of writer’s imagination.
I want to be held, supported, cared for and desired. I want a partner, a friend, a confident and a cheerleader. I want to believe I’m not supposed to be alone, but what if it’s like a belief in something wholesome as Santa Claus?
I’ve seen it happen for others. I watch their eyes and see their hearts when they’re together. Couples who have been together for 40, 50, 60 years still in love and still together. It can’t be imaginary. But, admitting it can happen means that I simply am unworthy, unable, unloveable? I get my head running with unanswerable questions and an aching heart. It’s easier to believe love is simply a fairytale.
Wasn’t it just yesterday when I laughed at the wetness of the air? The drops which fell from the sky empowering me towards change now pierces my armor. The clean air that once filled my lungs with hope now freezes my chest with each breath.
The confident steps splashing through the puddles are left to navigate unsteadily upon the icy glass. My soul left empty and barren; wind sweeping the hollowness of my soul.
The warm rain which stretched my flexibility to reach for more is now brittle from overuse. Too much stress, too much rejection, too much loneliness has worn away the layers leaving me like a rubber band ready to snap. The dark clouds enveloping the pink sky is the blade to which cut me exploding into oblivion.
I’m left wondering if the words I Love You would shatter me or would it be the bolstering wire to save me? My screams of help silenced by the pouring wetness piling up around me. What do I scream for? A hero? A savior? A therapist? What could it be to have none, but one who sits patiently while I rediscover my strength which is frozen behind layers of snow?
No longer are my breaths deep and cleansing, instead shallow gasps to merely sustain life. To be held and comforted; warmed by patience and accepting. To light a fire, share a blanket and remind me I can walk this path alone. Help me slow my desperate feelings of drowning in the darkness.