Walking Barefoot in Snow

I'm dabbling again, seeing who and what is out there in the dating pool, cautiously sticking my toe into the water to find out if i will go swimming again. It's not looking good, but honestly, i'm not trying very hard.  I almost feel like i've done my time, as it were, in romantic relationships.  When i say this to any of my female friends i get "you haven't had your great love yet.  it will come"  When i say this to my male friends they say "don't even bother, we are all assholes".   Well that's the gist of it, if not the exact words.  I feel that i have had two great loves, and that neither one was meant to last forever, and that they probably lasted a lot longer than they should have.  One, to have my beautiful children with, the other, to find my SELF with.  I don't know what i gave to them, or how i added or subtracted from their lives, and that is not for me to know.   Maybe love really is like that plant i'm...

I’m getting used to this.   Having another relationship break up, has not made it any easier.   But it’s familiar now, at least.   Not the end of the world like I used to fear it was. He was as good to me as he could be.   I’m not sure he had a lot to go on, with how to treat a woman.   We both hadn’t been very successful in past relationships and this one was a really good try at it, but still no cigar. I think some people THINK they want to share their lives with someONE, but they don’t want to sacrifice any of their wants or their time to the other persons wants.   There will always be one side that is constantly giving in to the other to keep things rolling smoothly.   And with that comes some frustration, and then bitterness.   I was getting really frustrated, so before I got to the bitter end, I ended it. I moved away from my life to be with him.   It doesn’t seem like much but living an hour away from where you work and wh...

    I don’t know how many years it’s been since you passed. I don’t acknowledge your birthday, or death day because I can’t remember the dates.   I haven’t been to your grave since your funeral.   I might even have a hard time finding your grave.   I know I would.   But, I miss you. I think about you. I laugh about memories that come up, and so many have been coming up.   I compare men I meet to you.   I wonder if you would approve, or silently disapprove as you were so good at doing.   Would you be proud of me now? Or still waiting for me to “get serious”?     You never told me you didn’t approve, your silence would be the message.   I knew I was in deep shit when you didn’t respond to me, acted like you didn’t see or hear me.   That worked better than any yelling ever could have.   It cut deeper.   Or you would tell my mother, “Kathy, blah blah blah” and then she would come at me with her s...

I'm reading a new book called "Power: surviving and thriving after narcissistic abuse" by Shahida Arabi.  I thought it looked interesting, and I've had it suggested to me by several people that one of my ex's is a Narcissist.  So i picked it up, thinking i'd take a quick look. First chapter i can't help but take out a pencil and begin underlining what is reaching out and smacking me in the face - You rationalize it, and minimize it, hoping it was just an off-color comment or misunderstanding (no one is ever going to mistake you for a model) New people, as well as new forms of torment, begin to show up; he introduces them into the sacred space of your relationship.  He ignores you while he extols them; he demeans you while he praises them .  (Oh, I've been friends with her for years.  She's just a friend.  You over react.  You have me on a short leash.  Why can't you be more like her?) You become needy for approval, for any scrap of kin...

  My daughter told me I can be really mean.   I’ve learned to filter my “honesty” into gentler words, or better, simple silence.   Years and experience have taught me silence can’t come back and embarrass you at a later date.   Anger has a way of unlocking the ugliness and it comes out BIG and unforgiving.     Anger is also a waste of time at this point in my life.   It serves no purpose.   So, when it hits me and becomes unreasonable, I talk out loud to myself.   Crazy?   Not the talking, but probably most definitely the content.   Then it works itself into sense as it circles down and the sides become smoother……...it’s almost always the same things that bring me to anger.   I’ve had practice.   I know how this goes now.   Without knowing, I’m going to say that this is part of being an introvert.   When I try and “work it out” with another person while this anger is in my throat all I do is es...

What if I'm meant to be alone in order to be happy with myself? What if, when i come home from work I cook myself a lovely dinner and sit down to it with a glass of wine and quiet contemplation. Maybe even put on some relaxing music, lights some candles... rip off my bra.  Dance around while i'm cooking? Sing? Clean up, if i feel like it. Go to bed at 8:00pm because i like the warm softness of my blankets and the feeling of floating on clouds.  Or stay up late watching "real" tv........because it's so ridiculous and entertaining.  Curled up on my couch in comfy pj's that are pretty too.  Or search the web for more recipes to try, more life hacks, more decorating ideas, more projects i can do by myself, more places i'd like to go.......or stalk my ex's and try not to laugh.  Or cry. Or......stare at a wall. Maybe call a friend to come visit, so we can sit at my kitchen table and talk, laugh.  Or cry.  Or call a friend and stop over...

Some people have punching bags.   I have my blog.   I’m looking for is a way to pop the emotional zit that gets larger and takes up more space than it should whenever I try to pretend it’s not there.   Time to get popped bitch. My present life? Can’t ask for more without being greedy. Situations have changed in my work so that I no longer need to barricade myself behind a sign, or dread the opening of my office door.   So that’s good.   Our home is slowly but surely taking on the look of a couple living there, and my relationship is the kind where fighting is anticlimactic.   We get annoyed.   We go to our separate corners.   We come back and appreciate that there is literally no drama.   It’s kind of weird and honestly I’ve considered going back to my therapist to help me accept that I’m in an adult relationship with a fully grown man.   Which requires me to be a fully grown woman. Dammit. Am I happy? I am satisfied.   ...

My voicemail has been full for .......a long time.  I haven't listened to messages in probably over a year.  Today, i not only listened to but deleted the majority.  I'm proud of me. I didn't want to listen to what i should delete but didn't want to just delete everything without listening.  So.  I finally did it. Now i feel stupid for stressing about something that was nothing.  Sometimes I build up things in my head to be a lot bigger than they are, or ever were. I need room on my voicemail so i can get new messages. On that note, i looked up my previous address online to see if there are still pictures and there they were, from when it went on the market.  My little house that i loved so much.  I showed Mike and while i was doing so i realized that I love our home.  It's old, it has character, it has details that others don't have and it needs love and attention.  Like us.  It's our, big home.  Funny to think that ...

Sitting at home literally, is making me a bit......not myself.  Surgery on my foot means hopping along with a walker (yes, a walker) because putting pressure or weight on my foot is a bigggg no no.  Fuck me.  I never appreciated being able to walk on two feet as much as i should have.  My hands hurt more than my ankle, so sitting seems to be the goal.  I sit.  and i sit some more. It's not too bad when Mike is here because he talks to me, but once he goes to work i'm slipping into the coma of television, or ....Sims.  I admit it.  If i can't live in reality i'm gonna do it on the computer with made up characters.  I create the characters so i can build them houses.  Thats my favorite part so i'm not too ashamed or concerned. Time alone gives you all this extra space to think.  Think, chew on it, get mad, get sad, feel relieved, grateful, bored, regretful and grossly happy.  Within the space of moments .  Because, norma...

Harvey Weinstein.  I find it so perplexing that anyone would think what he did wasn't rape.  Or at the very least  sexual   assault.   Why didn't these women speak sooner?  They got what they wanted in return for sex.  If it was  rape  why didn't they call the police  when it happened ?  These aren't uncommon thoughts and questions from decent, intelligent people.  Unless you have experienced rape, or sexual assault or know someone close that has, it is difficult to wrap your mind around the nuances of what rape really is.  or can be.     Rape doesn't have to involve having a gun held to your head, or a knife to your throat by a stranger.  I think everyone agrees that rape doesn't have to be perpetuated by a stranger.  It can be by someone the "victim" knows, trusts, even loves.   While that may be accepted as possible, the fact that no threat of death or serious bodily injury is not....