How do you get better at relationships? Stop thinking about relationships.
Thanks for Liking my post. But I’ll admit when your name popped up I thought it read “Margarita” and I instantly thought, Yes, please!” lol
Have a great Friday!
– 1 Year of Single
“We accept the love we think we deserve.” – Stephen Chbosky, The perks of Being a Wallflower
Huge thanks to the Likes and new Followers. Thank you!
Definition: The pain-in-the-ass emotional ups and downs that girls go through when we are dealing with a stressful relationship dilemma or breakup.
Please give me a suggestion as to why I can’t stick to my guns. Do you deal with this self-defeating crap too? Why the hell can’t I be unbending? Hit Like if you know what I mean!
Dont be a wuss and say, “I can’t deal with this” to an ex. It implies that all they have to do is change your mind. A better solution that honors your intentions would be: “I won’t deal with this.” Stand up for what you believe in, dont worry about what your ex thinks.
There comes a time in every girl’s life when you realize that the only person who can save you is you. Some discover this early. For the rest of us, it’s a lifetime process. Put down the romance novels and turn off The Notebook and go be your own hero(ine)!
It’s heartbreaking when you have to deny the person that you like.
No, not like that – get your mind out of the gutter.
An ex sent me a sweet text asking how I am. After a brief exchange I realized that no, I can’t do it – I can’t be friends with someone who I dated, liked, and is once again working on his marriage. I won’t wait around for someone to value me. So I told him briefly what I was thinking, thanked him for everything and wished him well.
It’s difficult, but 1 Year of Single is about learning to value myself, and I’ll be damned if I go back on that.
Happy Thursday, y’all.
He preempts his lack of communication responses by saying something similar to, “I dont really check my email,” or “I’m not really into texting.”
We often wonder why some girls are desperate and needy. You would think it’s an inherent need, but sometimes it comes from the folks who are supposed to protect them the most. Case in point:
“We’re going to marry you off to the old widower down the road,” my parents would joke, adding, “Except, we’ll have to throw in some chickens as well” – a clear sign that they didn’t think I was worth anything; they had to “sweeten the pot” with a farm animal. So essentially I was worth less than a farm animal.
This was just one of the many not-so-subtle ways that my parents expressed their view of my value. I had to be married to be worth something, and that no one would want me as I was. I wasn’t good enough.
Eventually all my sisters “found someone,” and I was “left.” I dated here and there, but as nothing panned out, my mother would ask in horrified voice if I was a lesbian, and would introduce me as “the last one left.” Imagine how I felt when – in social circles – she would say, “Oh, and here’s my daughter, Kate. She’s the last one left.”
The last one left? It indicated that I was – in her eyes – the last one of her daughters to do the right thing: obtain the golden ticket and get married. So to my mother, all my other achievements – Deans List, MVP, Captain, Who’s Who of Junior Colleges – twice, Editor In Chief of the college newspaper and Student of the Year – all paled in comparison to being someone’s wife. It was another statement that pissed me off – but being a dutiful daughter, I let it slide. Why? Because my other sisters had issues with my mother! My mother also very artfully manipulated me by saying, “It doesn’t matter what we do to you, Kate, you’ll always come back to us. You’re the good one.” She was a master manipulator.
So those statements, along with dozens of other similar messages, created a need for me to find a husband – even before carrying out my own dreams. But ironically I didn’t radiate desperateness. I wasn’t a slut. I wasn’t “with” every guy I met, and I didn’t want every guy to marry me. I actually had some discrimination. Some.
Sadly, when my dysfunctional mother introduced me to her friend’s equally dysfunctional son, I went for it – hook line and sinker – because of a few things: 1.) I was tired of waiting for a quality guy that I actually wanted to spend the rest of my life with 2.) I was completely intimidated by quality guys 3.) It was a preordained match made by my dysfunctional mother 4.) I was taught my entire life to think that my parents had all the correct answers, and wasn’t ever allowed to question them. So if this guy was my perfect match, I wasn’t about to question it.
Thankfully, the story gets better.
A foundation of years of therapy enabled me to eventually leave my alcoholic husband in a somewhat “Sleeping With the Enemy” style. I call it “The Evacuation.” After my husband left for a long weekend with the boys, I gathered friends at my home to pack my things. Did I tell my mother? No way in hell – I was a clam in the months leading to the evacuation. Twice prior she had convinced me to stay with the alcoholic, so I knew that it was a turning point in my life – she wouldn’t be making any more decisions for me, and I didn’t tell her anything about the evacuation. Needless to say, when I did inform her of the move, she was shocked and tried to convince me to return to him.
I feel like 1 Year of Single is my final phase of the evacuation. Since leaving my ex-husband, I’ve had to completely sever ties with my mother – and I want to rip the control completely out of her hands by not dating for one year. I want to do it on my own terms. And I want to take everything back from the Mother who made me desperate.
“You like me, you really like me!” – Sally Field
Today was maddening at work because most of the employees left near the 1pm early holiday close. My account lingered in indecision until after 5pm and I became increasingly frustrated not only with the account, but with my life regarding relationships and the seemingly never-ending thoughts that seep into my head when I have enough free time to think. Which was definitely today.
When I was finally able to go home – after my project manager asked about my weekend plans – I blurted out a brief statement of how I’m tired of thinking about exes.
“You need a break,” she said, without even knowing my plan of singledom. Then added, “cause you have no idea how to date.”
I groaned. I also wanted to cry because I felt like she was right. I’m Dating Challenged. But I do know one thing: other than this blog I don’t want to think about it uncontrollably all day anymore. And I can’t sit around wondering what I’m going to do with myself now that I’m 100% cleared for selfish, singledom activities. I need to make a list. I need to reexamine my life and see what I’ve let slip away and bring it back to the forefront of my To-Do list.