And That's Why You're Single |
| Behind The Blog: My New Normal Posted: 12 Dec 2013 09:29 AM PST Even though it was almost 40 years ago, I can still remember that morning. I got out of bed and walked down the hallway and into the kitchen. It took a moment for someone to notice that I was there. My cousin took my hand and led me into our living room and sat next to me on the couch. Knowing that I was an avid reader, she asked me about the last book I had read. "Forgetful Freddy" I responded. I then proceeded to tell her all about the young boy in the story who couldn't even recall his own name or where he lived and all the trouble he got into because of his poor memory. The next mental snap shot I have is being in our back den. It was dark except for one dim lamp flickering atop a marble table. My uncle, a funeral director, was sitting on the couch asking my father questions. I distinctly remember words like "colon" and "bowels" being used. When my father saw me, he invited me over to the sofa where he sat. He placed me on his lap and began to tell me a story. God needed help, he began, so He came down to Earth and asked my mother to return to Heaven with Him. "So she's dead?" I said. I had just turned 7. My Dad stumbled for a moment, not expecting me to fully understand what was going on. Oh, I understood. I had even predicted it. The night before, as my sister tucked me in, I asked her if our Mom was going to die. She looked at me in horror and snapped, "Of course not! Why would you ever say that?" I just lay there quietly. Even at that age, I could recognize fear in someone's voice. My sister wasn't angry. She was scared. Scared that I was right. And I was. My mother had been sick for some time, but the news of her terminal diagnosis was kept from not only her children but her. Despite never being told directly that she did not have long to live, I knew. I suppose experiencing such a profound loss so young hardened me to the idea of death. As my father grew older, I began to force myself to think about the day when he would no longer be with us. When that day came in June of 2012, as unexpected as it was, I was prepared. I mourned, I grieved and then I moved on. I repeated that pattern just 4 months later when his wife, my step-mother of almost 35 years, also passed away. In November of 2013, the sister who tucked me in that night lost her battle with cancer. That was the third member of my immediate family to die in 18 months. But this time around the grieving process has been different. Thanks to an ugly probate case that resulted after my father passed, I found myself opposing my sister in regards to how to handle one aspect of the estate. She and I eventually came to verbal blows and we weren't speaking. When she died, her daughter felt it appropriate to not only bar me from the funeral but to leave me out of the obituary. The sadness over my sister's death was cockblocked by my anger. There are nights when I lay in bed and wonder how much longer I will be stuck here on this planet. Then there are others when I find myself fearing that I only have a few weeks to live. These moments pass. I know they are irrational worries borne of tragedy fatigue. The need for therapy is a given and is already being attended to. In the wake of this most recent untimely passing I've noticed that I miss my father far more than I did when he first died. When I think of him now, he seems further away. The recollections are no longer fresh. It makes me wonder if I will eventually struggle to remember his face or his voice. After he died, the voicemail he had recorded for his outgoing office message was intentionally kept active. My sisters and I would each call it from time to time just to hear my Dad once more. I dialed the number a couple of months ago and was heartbroken to hear the operator's voice come on to tell me that the line had been disconnected. His voice was officially gone forever. But the greatest loss I experienced was my ability to believe that there was a Plan for all of us. Thinking that there was some sort of method to this madness we call life gave me a sense of peace and purpose. Now it seems like it's all very undirected. Knowing my Dad was there to call when I had moments of doubt provided me with a much needed connection to..something. Now I just feel adrift. My father's death, my step-mother's death, her decision to cut my sisters and I out of her will completely and leaving my father's sizeable estate to only her sons, the shattering of my family unit because of my Dad's probate case, the verbal assault I experienced from my sister and her children. I forced myself to move past these losses. With each hit, I took a deep breath and chose not to wallow. I've never believed in it. My experience with grief was that it was temporary. Yet after all of this, I find that I can't fully shake this feeling of hopelessness. The smallest thing can send me spiraling into anxiety. There are times when I find myself walking to the gym or running errands and I'm so lost in thought that I don't even notice the light has changed allowing me to cross a street. I stand there on the corner as if in a fog. A few nights ago I found myself unable to sleep. My friend began to rub my back in an attempt to help me relax. His hands weren't on me for a minute before I felt my whole body cave in and I began to weep. It was one of those cries that come on unexpectedly that, when completed, leaves you numb. It wasn't until the next day that I realized that it wasn't the grief that made me cry. It was being shown an act of kindness that caused me to crack. I hated even looking in his eyes because I didn't want him to see how utterly broken I felt. That is a level of vulnerability with which I am not comfortable displaying. Nobody sees that. The right people with pity you, and the wrong people will prey on it. Little by little, with each day that passes, I can feel myself getting back to normal. To do so means having to accept that my normal has changed. I now need to become accustomed to the randomness. As someone who needs to feel there is an order to things, you can imagine how this throws me. My hope is that being able to acknowledge the powerlessness involved with loss is the first step in regaining a sense of power. That will be where I start.
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| How To Deal With Men Who Won’t Date Women With Issues Posted: 11 Dec 2013 05:30 PM PST Name: Renee I notice some men repeatedly question me about my childhood family during the first date. They’ll ask how old my parents are, what they do for a living, how long they’ve been together, etc. I should mention that only a specific demographic of men ask these types of questions. Usually it’s the highly-educated professional men in their late 30s to mid 40s who have never been married, have no kids, have not been in a serious relationship in several years, and are looking for the relationship that will lead to marriage (and kids). Younger men do not question me extensively about my family of origin. I’ve heard that some pickier men do this because they would never consider getting into a relationship with a woman who was raised in a broken home or a household that was headed by a single parent. Some have said that a woman who grew up in a two-parent household is far less likely to have ‘daddy issues’ and the resulting baggage. Although I came from a two-parent household, I’d rather not talk that much about my childhood family during first dates. I feel that first dates are for getting to know each other, not the family. By the way, some of the men have gotten silent when they discovered my father works in retail (yes, they asked). But we usually end up on second dates. There are no special cultural issues at play because the men and I were all born and bred in various parts of the US. Thanks. This is the very reason why I stopped using Match.com. It was full of men on a mission to find a wife or step-mom to their kids. As I’ve mentioned previously, dates with men or women like this always feel more like interviews. There’s no room for flirting and getting to know each other. You’re being sized up. Either that or you’re dealing with men who are wildly socially inept who don’t know how to make conversation. I think those 40+ men who are finally deciding to settle down and have kids just precious. It’s unfortunate, because I think many of them become so tunnel visioned in their approach that they have a blindspot to some real red flag issues. The men who state outright that they’re looking for a life partner or soul mate (yeesh) are guys I avoid. Dating them is a chore. They’re interviewing you for two positions: wife and mother. They’re not even thinking about long-term compatibility. All they care about is how much room in your life you have for them, are you too career focused and not someone who will want to stay home and raise their youngin’, etc. You’re basically seen as an incubator who makes them dinner. No thanks. Guys who don’t want to date women with “issues” are just shooting themselves in the foot. We all have issues. And given the growing divorce rate, many people are products on one parent households. Choosing not to date someone who is a product of divorce is cutting your options in half if not more. All that matters is how someone handles their baggage. Not whether they have too much or any. Think you’re never going to encounter someone with some kind of issue? You’re adorable. Can I date on your planet? It sounds heavenly. All that said, I think you might be connecting the dots inappropriately. Your father’s job probably has nothing to do with why someone faded. This is online dating, where the Fade was pretty much invented. Sometimes it’s just a matter of too little time and too many options. The men in the age range that you’re meeting are high in demand. That’s the more likely explanation from why you didn’t hear from them again. Never try to determine why someone ghosted on you. You’ll drive yourself crazy. People just move on. It’s not necessarily something about you that made them do so. I think we like to come up with excuses for why somebody didn’t follow up with us, when the real reason is that they just met someone else that they liked more. You don’t have to discuss anything you don’t feel comfortable on a date. If you find that lines of questioning like this are happening regularly, come up with a scripted response that doesn’t come off rude but that shuts down the conversation. Or turn the question back on them. Most people love talking about themselves. Respond with a one or two word answer and then say, ‘How about you?” If they press on with the questions, that’s your cue to turn them down for a second date.
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