On Divorce and Dating

So she told me, “he just got divorced and is dating…heavily.” 

My sister says that probably means he has the “herps”. (yes, I spelled it like she said it).  But I know the deal.  When you get divorced you feel like you must date the whole world to confirm you are not a failure.  See look how attractive I am, people think I’m fun, people want to have sex with me.  So I decided I would let him alone. Well mostly. I am a flirter so, yeah.  We had an awkward conversation once at a party. I couldn’t shake the words, “he probably has the herps.” out of my mind.  Thanks alot darling sister…

When I dated the other and he ran for the 2nd time, I realized this “herps” is a real thing.  This I am super scared and I’m gonna date and sex myself whole again.  I’m gonna protect my feelings at all cost just in case this one means to burn my feelings already turned raw. I will protect myself from you at all cost.  Wrap myself in insecurity and dare you to try to love me through it.  This is my new definition of the herps.  

And as falsely brave you are it just keeps coming back.  It comes back because you want it to.  Because it is important.  Sometimes you need yourself protected.  You don’t want the heaviness that “relationships” or “caring” brings. Sometimes you just aren’t strong enough or ready enough.

Sometimes you want them to get so wrapped up in your perfectly shaped ass that they don’t go around looking for your heart.  (and by “you” I mean of course “me”) Which is just crazy talk, because what perfectly sane, perfectly whole person doesn’t want someone to search for their heart?

It just keeps coming back

It just keeps coming back until one day it doesn’t.   The one day when you find yourself looking for someone’s heart so intensely that you forget to stop hiding yours.  That’s when you’re free

For All of Us

I finally saw Whitney's interview with Oprah. Saw it over my sister's house. It was a wonderful interview and I enjoyed her performance on part 2. It made me think how many strong women I have in my life. It made me think about how strong I am. Whitney goes through what many women go through. When she sang the song with the line "I am not built to break" I thought, "of course you're not. Neither am I". Then I looked at my sister and thought, "Neither is she." I thought of my mother, I thought of my best friend. None of us are built to break. We as women need to remember that. When we are the middle of it, whatever the "it" is, in that moment, we need to remember that.

I thought if someone had interviewed me after I asked my husband to leave, and someone were to ask me about how I was strong enough to do that, I think my answers would have been so similar to Whitney's. It made me think about how similar we all are, and how its a shame that some of us have to go through so much to find out how extraordinary we are.

Last night I was on the computer reading @fattybella's tweets. Something tells me things are not all good in the hood with her and Jay Electronica. She is hurt, but she will be fine. We want to love so much and so much we want to be loved in return. We sometimes forget ourselves in the love story we create in our heads.

I want Whitney to learn to love again. To be fearless when she finds someone that makes her heart flutter as much as Bobby did. That is the hardest part I think. Talking to co-workers about the interview most of the sentiments centered around how "regular" Whitney is. I think many women identified with her. But Whitney is not regular. Whitney is extraordinary. Her mistake was trying to dim her shine. So many of us are extraordinary and even though so many women go through the same thing it does not make it any less extraordinary. The strength it takes to muster to save ourselves when everything in us tells us to sacrifice ourselves for those we love is extraordinary.

I've been asked how I could just up and end a 13 year relationship with the father of my children, my husband. I don't really understand the question, because in my mind it was him or me and I chose me. simple. simple yet extraordinary.

So here's to all of us. All of us extraordinary women who are not built to break. Here are a few of our stories

I fell in love with the funniest, most talented, beautiful man
Because he hid his faults, I never really got to know him.
I had two children for him.
He tried to dim my shine because he didn't fully understand the magnitude of his own.
I left him before I was broken. And I never looked back.
I'm so looking forward to loving again...greater is he that is in me
Michele Lee Gray Codrington was not built to be broken

My sister fell in love with a man
she married him and divorced him
He also kept secrets.
She lost her job and almost lost her home
She rebuilt her life and is now dating more than I am
Holly Gray-Brown is not built to be broken

My mother is the daughter of a heroin addict.
She never knew her father
She had to raise her brothers and sisters on her own when she was just a child herself.
She married her highschool sweetheart and had 3 beautiful and flawed children
Brenda Mae Gray was not built to be broken

My grandmother was pregnant at 15.
Abandoned by the baby's father when she was not yet showing.
She became addicted to heroin and an alcoholic
She fell in love with her savior.
6 of her 7 children were addicts.
But she survived and so did they
Geneva "Gloria" Jones Hampton was not built to be broken

Sojourner, Sojourner

4:19 am: Driving to drop the boys off. They're dozing in the back. Shoeless, wearing the same clothes they slept in. I wanted to disturb their sleep as little as possible. Not sure why he is making me do this. He's so frustrating sometimes. I wonder if he'll even be there

4:50 am: The lights are on in the house. I"m carrying the littlest boy up to the front door. It opens and my mother-in-law ushers them inside. "Just lay donw there. We're going somewhere." I bring their suitcases into the house and set them down in the foyer. "We have for them here," she says. "They don't need that."

"They'll be here for a whole week, you don't need anything?"

" No, we have for them here."

"Not even their shoes?"

She looked down at their bare feet.

"Yes, their shoes."

"They're in the bag." I bend over to unzip the bag. I pull the shoes out.

"So you don't want the bags at all?"

"No."

"I sure wish someone had told me that before I packed them," I mumble.

4:56 am: I walk back to the car. She runs out to ask about Justice's medication. I reach into the glove box, pull out a bottle. Shake it to be sure its not empty. Finding some left, I hand it to her.

"And this is for . . .?"

"For his wheezing, sneezing, and itching. Just give it to him daily especially if he will be outside a lot."

I roll up the window and drive onto the airport.

5:57 am: Hop in the airport shuttle from Economy Parking to the terminal. My early flight kept anyone from dropping me off. And I'm here extra early becasue I had to drop the kids off before 5 am. He wasn't even there to meet them. I wonder if he'll see them at all this week.

6:43 am: Through security. Eating a $7.50 panini. Should've stopped at McDonalds. For $7.50 it should talk and dance and tell my fortune.

7:46 am: other folks from my school start to arrive. Chatting with the H.O.S. (Head of School). She is really laid back and open. I'm feeling better about this job. Looking forward to getting into Charleston and relax a bit. H.O.S says she thinks there is a pool there. . .

2:36 pm: H.O.S and I relaxing by the pool in Charleston. The rooms aren't ready yet. We got lunch. $10 bucks with tax. The south is really good on a sister's budget. When my room's ready, gonna lay in the bed and watch TV. We're meeting later for dinner. I wonder where I could get some flip flops . . .

When the dark purple falls. . .

124.5
20mg Lexapro (up from 10mg)
Shrimp Scamp
2 grown half and halfs (sweet tea vodka/lemonade)

My weight had gone up to 128.5. I was excited until I weighed myself again and it was gone. Must have been the monthly bloat.

Now that I'm coming out of my anxiety ridden/depressive fog, I realize that I am super behind at work and have no real prospects for a job next year. There are major cut backs at work and I don't think my performance as sped guru has warranted staying here in that capapcity. Moreover, I promised myself to find a job which highlights my strengths. I have a few leads but nothing solid, which makes me uneasy.

My divorce court date is May 12th. After that, I will be an official free woman. Mixed emotions... Now that it is finally here it has made me nostalgic about my past, and makes me realize this isn't at all how I pictured my life to turn out. 36, 2 children, no property, pushing a 96 Lincoln. But I am at least hopeful that what I do have, I can maintain BY MYSELF. I am anxious about his behavior at court. I hope he doesn't cry or anything . . .

I am dating again. I tried to relegate the dude to just the physical but he persists. I realize that I am afraid to let it be anymore than that because I am trying to avoid rejection. For someone as confident as I am, I am discovering parts of me that are still so insecure and damaged from my marriage, my past relationships, and general kicks in the shins that life sometimes hands out.

Last night I was feeling pretty low. Job mainly, but also some memories I had been trying to fight back. I reached for my phone to text someone. (That's my M.O. reaching out so I don't have to spend time with sadness). But I decided not to. "No one is thinking of me," I thought. "I'm not going to bother anybody." I put the phone down, turned on my side, and began to cry. Just a little. "No one is thinking of me," more tears came down. The phone buzzed. A text.

"Whats on your mind"
"Alot"
"I could tell by fb status, tweets. . ."
"thats what I do. Hesitant to talk but will put out a fb status or tweet in a minute"
"We'll talk soon"
"Thank you for thinking of me"
"Always do . . ."

I still cried last night. But I felt better to be thought of. But the thought I will begin to depend on such communciation scares me. The prospects of learning to open myself up to someone else again scares me even more. I know it is necessary to move on and even if he's not the one to open up to, I have to be brave. Be brave enough to heal . . .

Be brave little girl . . .

Starting over is a bitch

1 pear vodka cranberry
6 pieces of stewed chicken, Mcdonalds breakfast and dinner
123 pounds (keeping track-Goal weight 140)
1 anxiety attack since last post

So this is my like 3rd time starting over, and it never gets any easier

One of the major issues since leaving my old man was that he would use things that I needed as leverage for taking him back.

I hadn't asked him for anything except to continue paying for my car. The only trouble with that is that everytime i would turn down his ridiculous request to get back together, he would threaten to take back the car. Once he did, came and took the car. He brought it back, but it was a sketchy 8 hours.

So, I had to move out of my 2nd start over house since the mice clearly believed I was encroaching on their territory. Now I am in Laurel. Yeah, i know. So far. I know I won't get any "unexpected drop ins". So sad. not sexy at all.

Moreover, since the car had died, the husband refused to pay to get it fix (or couldn't). He also used this as leverage and drove me back in forth to work for 2 weeks. Then the conversation about why I won't take him back. Then after I refused him, the refusals to give even my mood a lift.

So I did the grown up thing and moved into the cheapest, but nicest, place I could find. I am saving 700 bucks a month. My father sold me his big ole Lincoln town car. It too is unsexy, but I am making the most of it. Yes, being mature can be unsexy. But I finally feel free. I don't need anything of him. I can do for myself.

So starting over is a bitch, but at least I have an extra 700 bucks to buy a couch, a drink every now and again, and possibly some cute shoes.