So I was thinking...

Here are a bunch of thoughts I need to write down so I can stop thinking about them.

1. Jack's stuff is boxed up and ready for him. He has like two things I would like back but I just can't get up the nerve to text him. So I guess if he wants his big pile of belongings, he can make the first move. 
2. Its so so so cliche to say "let's stay friends," especially since Jack doesn't really "do" friends, but I miss him. Neither of us are mad at each other? Nothing when catastrophically wrong, we just decided like grown ups that we aren't right for each other. Does that mean we never speak to each other again? I guess we don't have any real need to be friends, we don't move in the same circles and would just be confusing and sad. I deleted him from FB, but only because when we broke up in July, he admitted to keeping tabs on me. If he wants to know how I am, he can ask me, otherwise he can just wonder about it. 
3. My ex husband is sniffing around. He's being very nice and letting me see the kid on days that aren't mine because I'm so pitifully lonely. I'm like 5 cocktails away from just getting back together with him to keep the black hole of loneliness from swallowing me whole. 
4. My friends are advising that I not sleep with the ex husband unless I want to get back together because without a doubt, he'll catch feelings about it and it will be a disaster. So they think I should get on Tinder and just bang a couple of randos.
5. I cannot bang any randos because my head is still not right. I though Jack and I were in love. I feel like he let me go so easily and without a second thought. I feel like all the things he said when we were together were just pretty words with no feeling or conviction behind them. So yeah, I could go out and catch a dick, but I'm unloveable. So if I went home with a one nighter, its highly likely that I'd burst into tears and act like a fucking weirdo. Because right now, more than I need to feel sexy and desirable, I need to feel loveable and worthy. 
6. Waterproof mascara is a joke. I finally quit trying to wear make up for this week because I just cry it off. I look like a gremlin without make up, but on the plus side, no one notices my puffy eyes because I just generally look unkempt. 
7. You know how my parents are generally dismissive of me? My feelings aren't valid, I'm just dramatic, depression isn't real, my problems aren't real problems. My Dad, my goddamn Dad who NEVER talks to me on the phone, called last night to check up on me and tell me that they will help me how ever I need help and to think of depression and anxiety like a broken leg (i.e. its a real medical thing requiring treatment). Which isn't a new thought for me but I've never heard that kind of stuff from him. 
8. Having my parents acknowledge that I'm struggling makes me feel worse. I must be the poster child for someone who is "in a bad way" if even they notice and worry about me. I mean, I appreciate their concern, but fuuuuuck, apparently my facade of holding it all together is not fooling literally anyone. 
9. Whenever I go through a breakup or am especially anxious (i.e. my current life) I don't eat. I just have no appetite. To be honest, I don't want to do any of the things necessary to keep on going. Washing my hair and shaving my legs sound like feats requiring entirely too much effort, and I'm single now, and with no makeup I already look like a billy goat, so who the fuck cares, right? But anyways, eating. It sounds like too much effort to make a meal, or even take the steps necessary to buy a meal. So I just haven't. I'm not hungry anyway. Plus, eventually I'll get my head screwed on straight and Natalie minus 10 lbs. is a better version to present when I eventually "get back out there." But my sweet little boy noticed I wasn't eating and insisted that I have dinner. 
10. I know I'm not quite 30, but when is it ok to just quit? No more websites, no more awkward dates, no more searching for this mythical, lasting love. I figure I'm about 3 more cats and an increased drinking habit away from embracing the Cat Lady lifestyle. 

Why I'm Like This (Part 3)

I have sleep apnea. Or something. Something is wrong with me, I've had a sleep study and I'm waiting for the results.

Prior to the sleep study, I had bloodwork done. I happened to see my mom the day I got my bloodwork results. Though I've been anemic off and on for most of my life, my iron levels were good. My Vitamin D levels were normal. My pituitary and liver were functioning normally. I told my mom all that and said, half jokingly, "I don't know what the hell is wrong with me."

"You need a better diet and more sleep," my mom replied.

Are. You. Fucking. Kidding. Me.

First of all, as far as my diet, my mom lives in a different state. I'm not sure how she feels qualified to judge my eating habits, given that she has no idea what, or how much, I eat. Second, as all my vitamin levels are in normal range, wouldn't it be fair to say I have a balanced diet that is providing my body with all the required nutrients? Third, I have at least two servings of fruit as snacks each day at work and my dinner always includes vegetables.

As to needing more sleep, I'm baffled by what an ignorant thing that is to say.
My doctor, a medical professional, with years of schooling and an advanced degree, saw fit to refer me to a specialist.
The specialist, also with years of schooling and an advanced degree, sent me for a sleep study.
But my mom, a high school graduate, thinks I should just sleep more.

For the record, it is not uncommon for me to sleep on the bus to and from work. On rare, desperate occasions, I have taken a 10 minute power nap in the restroom at work. I take a long afternoon nap Saturdays and Sundays, in addition to sleeping in. I called in sick to work so I could stay home and sleep. I typically sleep 7-8 hours a night. Despite all of this, I always always always wake up tired.

This especially bothers me because my mom has a long list of medical issues. She's had several surgeries, she's on oxygen 24/7, her medical records are voluminous. Maybe she should eat a salad and get more sleep.

Why I'm Like This (Part 2 in a never-ending series)

Why I'm Like This (Part 2 in a never-ending series of how my parents are fucked up).

Its super trendy to have your hair dyed outrageous colors now. Some of my hair is purple. Not all of it, not even half of it. Its most noticeable when My hair is up, like in a ponytail.

My parents were in town this weekend. My dad pointed out my hair, said, "you have some purple stuff. Eww."

When I told him that was rude and that he would never say "ew" to anyone else on the planet (stranger, co worker, friend, etc), my mom told me I was taking it the wrong way. I asked what other way "ew" can be interpreted. Then they told me that its different because they are my parents and can talk to me like that.

Eventually my dad grudgingly said sorry. It was pretty clear he didn't mean it, but I dropped it.

According to them:

They are never wrong. I am always wrong. I am always too sensitive. My emotions are always my own fault and they are never responsible for the words they say. 

The Trouble with Mothers

Besides counseling, which I'm already doing, can anyone recommend a resource or book on how to deal with batshit crazy parents?

I'm 28 damn years old and am beyond sick of my mom judging the hell out of me about my parenting, about my dating, about my finances, about my attire, etc.

She frustrated me the other day about the whole situation with my ex husband. Today she asked me to call her to catch up. I was trying to give her the benefit of the doubt and go along to get along (which is almost always a mistake, in any scenario). She launches in with questions: am I still seeing Jack, how often, how much time is Kiddo spending around Jack, etc. (this was before the breakup obviously) The tone of her voice when I answer is such that I can tell she disapproves.

I try to ignore it and keep having a light conversation. Then she started listing people who I could ask to be Kiddo's godmother. I'm not opposed to getting the kid baptized. Its just not high on my to-do list. Whatever. I let this one pass too. Then she asks if I've started saving enough money for Kiddo's school tuition.

First of all he's 3. He won't even start pre-school for a year.
Second of all, I'm a grown ass woman who has written out a timeline of the things I need to do to get ready to send this kid to school.
Third of all, I think its rude as hell to ask about my finances. I have never asked you for money, so its really not your problem.

So I said, calm as could be, Mom sometimes you stress me out with these things, I feel really judged and its unwanted.
She freaked out and was like, "I guess I'll add that to the list of things we can't talk about."
"That's not what I said"
"Well it seems like you just don't want me to make you think about things you don't want to think about."

So I said I think I'd better go and got off the phone because I knew I would no longer be able to speak politely or respectfully.

Shitstorm Damage Report: Mom

My ex husband called me up to try and get back together. I gently turned him down. Like a fucking fool who won't learn a lesson, I went to my mom for support and/or comfort.

I got her up to speed and said how I felt this wasn't a fair thing for him to dump on me. My mom's response, " He is just being honest. He might realize what he has lost and maybe grown up"

I said "Tough shit" and she said "well that is sad."

Fucking really? 

This guy can't dick me around for years, (YEARS) make huge decisions without me, act like a child from all the years that I've known him (10+) and think its ok to have me wait around for him to figure out that I'm a quality woman who deserves a real man. 

My freaking mom: "I just feel bad for all of you. I just really want you to be happy."

I told her that was upsetting to me. Ever since I decided that a divorce was the right choice, my parents have tried to tell me I'm wrong, tried to advocate for my ex, wanted to buy him Christmas presents, tried to make me feel like I'm selfish for making that choice, like I'm not a thoughtful parent for considering the impact on Kiddo. 

And it's hurtful. The ex has his own family. They all live locally. He kept all our mutual friends after the divorce. He has his own support structure. I want my own goddamn parents to be on my side. 

For the first time in my life, I drew a boundary with her. I told my mom that I am now strong, independent, and happy. If I were to start any sort of relationship with my ex, the new, strong person I am, would unravel, collapse like a dying star. I wish it would have worked with him. No one grows up thinking they'll get divorced. But I already had these discussions and emotions 18 months ago and its not fair for the ex to ask for an 85th chance after all this time. He's still unreliable, he hasn't changed and I won't be dragged back through that. Further, I told my mom that I hope she can understand all that and be supportive or else we would have to agree to not discuss this matter. 

Success? She responded that she understood and was happy that I made a new life for Kiddo and me and said "we love you both." I'm going to be optimistic and assume by both, she meant kiddo and me, not the ex and me. 

I think maybe I made progress with her, but I'm so irritated that her initial reaction was to be sad that I couldn't work it out with my ex husband. In a fairy tale, in a Lifetime movie, in a Kate Hudson-chick flick, he and I would magically work things out, fall in love and remarry. our son would have his parents back together and everything would be bliss. 

But meanwhile in the real world, I know that my happy ending is not with that man. 

My Poor Mother

My parents worry about me, bless their hearts. They worry about me living alone. They don't like me to stay out too late. They don't like me meeting up with strange men from the internet. I think if they could have someone chaperone me, they would.  So as much as possible, I don't tell them what I'm up to. Gives them less to worry about right? I don't discuss dating with my dad. At all. Ever. I'd happily let him believe I'm still a good catholic girl, and a virgin, but since I have a 3 year old, the jig is up.

I talk to my mom if there is anything of note to report. Multiple dates with the same guy, anything especially cringe worthy or sweet. But most often when I tell her about a date, she tries to remember what guy I'm talking about. She never guesses right. In her defense, I've been going through men very quickly. I'll identify them to her by their profession, "the lawyer, the finance guy, the cop, no, not him, the other cop."

So I don't talk to her about my dating habits a whole lot. But every time we do talk, she says, "I need a scorecard to keep track."
First of all, that's kind of rude
Second of all, she's totally right.

Last time I told my mom I was going on a date, she texted me to say, "Have fun, don't drink or swear too much and act like a lady."
Jesus. Its like this woman doesn't know me at all. If I don't drink, how fun will it be? I swear all the fucking time, so any guy I'm interested in might as well know that up-fucking-front. And I'm sort of ladylike....I mean if you take me to meet your parents, I'll act right. Probably.

Also on one occasion, I told my mom about a particularly drunken first date I had. She scolded me for getting drunk with a stranger I met on the internet.  I decided she didn't need to know that he spent the night...

After a successful date, Mom always wants to know what he does for a living, where he's from, and how tall he is. If I answer those, she can come up with another set of questions, and another, and another. I know she means well and is just trying to see if these are suitable guys but its exhausting. I might as well record the dates and send her a transcript.

I keep my mom in the dark about the men rotating through my life for a few reasons, but mainly because I don't see the point in getting her up to speed on a guy who probably won't be in my life next month. When something is serious, I'll let her know. In the meantime, my poor mom will keep getting her hopes up, unnecessarily, about the flavor of the week.

Why I'm Like This

I've never thought I was beautiful, or even pretty. Maybe cute on a good day.

Some days I sincerely wonder if anyone grows up well adjusted. My parents were pretty great. I lived a very lucky life and had most anything I wanted, within reason. I started and stopped several expensive extracurriculars throughout my childhood and had been to Europe twice before I was 17. I get that I'm very fortunate, some would say spoiled.

So I understand that I'll sound like a "poor little rich girl" when I say, no one ever told me I was pretty. I was always, always praised for my intelligence. By my parents, aunts, uncles, all relatives, my friends, my parents' friends.

So I knew I was smart from an early age. But in middle school boys didn't, or I thought they didn't, like smart. I went to a small private school so my options for boys were limited. In high school, I fell into a nerdy crowd and seemed assured that I would be a virgin until I was 35. (spoiler alert: that's not how it played out)

But then my family moved to Seattle for my Dad's job. At the time I was annoyed, because that's the default mode for all teenagers, but looking back, the move changed the course of my life, for the better I think. I was able to jump several rungs on the social ladder and had my first boyfriend within six months.

However, because I thought I wasn't pretty, because it took me 15 years to get that first boyfriend, because I honestly believed no other guy would ever look my way, I held on to that relationship for waaaayyyyy too long.

And that was my M.O. ever since. To be clear, I wouldn't describe myself as clingy, and I don't get dumped. I just put up with a LOT of bullshit. Because every time I manage to get a man's attention, I'm desperate to keep it. I've been abused. I've been lied to, repeatedly. I've made ridiculous sacrifices for men. But no more.

Part of the purpose of this blog is to spread the word about how ridiculous dating is. Part of the purpose is to figure out what I want. I won't settle again. I may not think I'm beautiful, but I do think I'm cute, pretty even. I get approached in bars sometimes. I get messaged online quite a bit. I have a lot of Tinder matches, which is superficial and stupid, but validating. I go on a lot of dates, but I've recognized that I spend the date trying to make sure the man likes me. But do I like them? That's what I plan to focus on. Do I like them? Is he right for me? Is he someone I want to spend me free time with? Is he someone I would introduce to my parents or son one day?

Its hard for me to change my way of thinking, but I'm going to give it an honest shot. Wish me luck!

Natalie