His face is haggard, his eyes tired, but he misses nothing. His body, though broken, is strong and poised to strike at a moment’s notice. He is sizing up this stranger to see whether or not he’s a threat.
“How many walkers have you killed?” “How many people have you killed?” “Why?”
If you’re familiar with The Walking Dead, you know that when Rick Grimes and his crew meet new people they might want to bring into their group they ask them these three questions. These questions are loaded and heavy and quickly cut to the heart of a persons character. And they MUST be answered before he’ll even consider bringing a new person into the fold. It was while watching him ask these questions on an episode recently that I had an a-ha moment.
Rick Grimes and I are basically the same person. Yup.
His character is trying to survive the wasteland that is America after the zombie apocalypse happens. I am trying to survive the wasteland that is the dating scene in Dallas in my mid-30’s.
IT IS BASICALLY THE SAME THING. Just kidding … but, no really … kinda the same. Let me tell you why.
Continue reading “The Dating Apocalypse: Or how dating in your 30s is a lot like the Walking Dead”
My life is mine. Woah.
I heard these words recently when listening to Tracee Ellis Ross’ speech for Glamour’s 2017 Women of the Year Summit. In that speech she discusses how being an incredibly successful woman in her mid-40s seems to be forever overshadowed by the fact that she is still single and childless.
“Oh, you just haven’t found the right guy yet.”
“What are you going to DO?”
“Oh, you poor thing… WHY is someone like you still single?,”
people ask her (and all single women), thinking it’s a compliment. When in fact it often undermines our entire existence. As if being single and manless/childless is our burden and our one defining factor.
Tracee went on to describe how during a particular season in her life, after breaking up with a guy she loved to date other people, she was journaling about this. About what I’m sure felt like guilt over wanting to date other people and not being in a relationship with a man she still loved (just (I’m assuming) not in the right way). She wrote down the words ‘My life is mine.’ And it stopped her in her tracks.
It stopped me in my tracks the other day while listening to that speech. My life is MINE.
What does that even mean? What does that look like when I really embrace it?
Continue reading “Thoughts on being brave (and my new love for Tracee Ellis Ross)”
The greatest part of being single is the chicken. Hear me out.
When I was married (and then in subsequent relationships), I would often buy those yummy delicious rotisserie chickens from Kroger for dinner for us. They are quite literally one of my most favorite things in the world. The first time I bought one of those whole chickens as a single girl I legit rejoiced. BOTH drumsticks were mine. BOTH wings. All the best parts of the chicken. And I didn’t have to share it with ANYONE. I swear I could hear the trumpets sound.
As I sit here in the aftermath of yet another failed attempt at a thing (I mean, can we even call three months a relationship?), there are a lot of things I’m pondering. It’s easy to get caught up in the blame game. Usually this is the point when I start really beating myself up and obsessing over every little mistake and each anxious outburst, but that’s not helpful. The good news is that this time I have finally found a few resources that are helping me discern what actually happened as it relates to me. And it’s giving me tools for any future relationships. I have homework, I have some takeaways and for that I am truly grateful.
Yes, there is work to do. And yes, I am doing it. But for now … for now, I am single. And there are SO many things to rejoice about. For starters, the chicken. The WHOLE chicken.
As a woman who once broke it off with a guy who ate food off her plate (multiple times without asking AND while using his bare hands), I cannot stress the value of this enough.
Continue reading “Chickens and Dancing: Thoughts on being single”
I was 21 before I learned to masturbate.
Up till then I hid my naked body from myself most of the time. I didn’t really even look at it when showering.
Weird? Yes. But I was raised Southern Baptist and sexual sin was considered the greatest. Honestly, I think I was afraid of my body and what was ‘down there’. In addition, I’d taken the true love waits pledge and seriously believed I would wait to even KISS a guy until my wedding day.
My body scared me, boys scared me, all the sexual TERMS scared me. Blow job. Doggy style. Eating … I mean, what?? I had to often pretend like I knew what my friends were discussing, then run home and ask my mom which was even more embarrassing and terrifying.
When I started to explore myself sexually, I had no clue what I was doing. I wasn’t even sure I wanted to figure ‘it’ out but from all the conversations I’d had with friends about it, it seemed like it was something I was gonna have to do eventually and I was pretty sick of being alone. I kind of felt like my V-card was becoming a burden. I thought if I figured out how to, you know, pleasure myself I’d have a higher chance of actually losing my virginity.
Continue reading “In Praise of Promiscuity (Part 1): The fuck-it list”
Last time I talked about some painful things. My anxiety and how that has really become a burden while dating and embarking on a new relationship.
One of the biggest things I’m learning is how to have compassion for myself. And to see things in a clearer perspective (vs the nagging negative voice that has repeatedly told me I’m too much of a burden for anyone, I’ll never be able to have the life or love I truly desire, etc etc).
Four years ago I walked away from a safe space. A marriage and a home with a man who I might not have been in love with, but someone who I did care for, who cared for me (well, most of the time) and who was my partner. I shared everything with this man – my ups and downs, good and bad. It might’ve been unhealthy, unkind, even indifferent but it was certain. I, a person with very intense anxiety, walked away from a very certain and stable future. Did I mention I walked away from a HOME? We had this beautiful home we remodeled. It had a yard. And vaulted ceilings. Sigh. I had safety and security but emotionally we were totally empty.
Walking away from the stability was GD scary. There were moments I was worried I had a brain tumor. My whole self, my entire identity (to a degree), was shifting. I was … becoming me. It was a rebirth in a sense. I knew it had to be done and yet there was a vast amount of time spent going WTF is wrong with me.
Continue reading “Dating with Anxiety (Part 2): Or how I’m learning to give myself a break”
I’ve been trying to think about what my next article should be … for about a month now. I’ve been stumped. Why? Partly because I truly want to sound cool and I want to be Carrie Bradshaw. I freaking love her. Sex and the Big D. I feel like my posts should be about single girl adventures and fun, flirty lessons … and while I do have some crazy adventures from time to time, the lessons are rarely fun and flirty and they’re really starting to beat me up.
I started this blog for me right? And I must stay true to that. To the authenticity of this project. Warts and anxiety and repeated mistakes and all.
During the past month I ended a very short-lived but promising relationship with a guy I was growing fond of … and I traveled to Bali alone. But in reverse order. Soon I will write about Bali, but for now I need to talk about that short-lived relationship.
Ok … to be honest, I’m still processing the relationship. I am sad that it has ended though I was the one who opted to call it quits. I miss him … or do I? I don’t know. The honest truth is I have overwhelming anxiety at the beginning of relationships. Oh let’s be honest, I have overwhelming anxiety throughout ALL of my romantic relationships. I have carried these deep fears of abandonment since childhood and I am only just now, at 35, starting to understand them. Starting to really see the damage NOT addressing them is doing to me and my future happiness.
Continue reading “Dating with Anxiety: How to lose a guy in 10 days … or three months”
He had a thick accent and he was buying me drinks. This was a Tuesday at my favorite neighborhood bar and it was supposed to be an early night. I was supposed to just get sushi with my friend then a drink then home by 10. But his accent and story about being a federal agent stopped me. It was definitely a lie but I was that kind of intrigued that comes from three stout vodka sodas. I began to feel that restless, excited feeling that comes when I realize the night is about to take a turn and I want to be there for the ride.
I love this feeling. Well …mostly. Most of the time it takes me to some pretty cool places and lets me experience some pretty cool things. Occasionally though, it leads me down the wrong, gonna-be-way-too-hungover-and-it’s-not-worth-it-because-this-place-was-lame path. However, this night it was the former. Lorenzo (that was the ‘federal agent’s name) asked me what I did for fun. I mentioned I sing a mean karaoke and that was it. We were off to one of the coolest gay bars in Dallas that has karaoke almost every night of the week.
This is the other big D in my life. Dating. For all intents and purposes I’ve been single for about 3 years. And I have dated. A lot. So so so many dates. In fact, so many I’ve decided to start a blog so I can one day remember them all. Good and bad.
Continue reading “The Big D: Dating (Part 1)”