she is on the other side of the window
[from a coffee love letter - poetry] close she is beautiful she is feeling older she should be loved i could tell her, touch her, be a tonic to tiredness to ennui to feeling less i could ask her i could bring her love
i breathe nearby she would not understand still i watch her through the glass and I want
i want
i am in love with loving her i am in love with this feeling i guess i am in love
i know
she is an object of affection she is beautiful she is my imagination of the lazy kisses of a gray day like this day where we do nothing but kiss and cuddle until we must get up to find food
i know
she isn't the one i'm looking for i don't know that but I know she is beautiful and that is enough
that is enough for now
4-23-13
Not Obeying the Speed Limits, Enjoying the Daily Journey
Coming home from the movie, I noticed how hard it is for me to drive the speed limit. I think I have that tendency in relationships too. (This post continues the story started here: Go Big This Time, or Go Home)
In the most recent installment, we learned that kissing can make quick work of the intimacy that usually has to be built up over time. So my warning, to myself, obey the speed limits. With good reason the kissy girl slowed the “runaway train down” so we could figure out what relationship might look like before we tore each other’s clothes off and dove head first into sex.
Turns out, even with less than a week under our belt, the kissing had formed a bond for her that was less easily loosened than maybe if we had not lip locked so quickly. I have no regrets about that. But I learn.
It was hard tonight, telling her, repeating, and reframing the proposition that I wasn’t interested in a relationship with her. “That’s fine, but I thought we could just hang out and not rush into anything.”
Needless to say she was confused and disappointed. And she was convinced that I had not handled the situation as well as I could. Fine points, I guess, as you are in the middle of a breaking up with someone, but let’s take them at face value.
“You could’ve told me the second you knew something wasn’t working for you,” she said. “In stead of dragging it out over the last three days.” Okay, but I tried. My txt “I’m not ready to be in this relationship,” wasn’t clear enough. I can hear that. But I didn’t really have any clear time to deal with this discussion, until today. And in my mind, I was still figuring it out. I had the idea that meeting in person to say it might be a better approach.
|
And speeding up the process for sex, or passion, or kissing, is not a good idea. I want the relating to be ahead of the feeling. I want the experience of being “with” this person to be something coveted and sacred long before we make love.
|
I said. “I did try to say that I was having second thoughts.” And I mentioned the idea of the other person not having kids, and thus not quite understanding the “kid thing,” was an issue. But I was not clear at that moment, that I was saying NO to everything.
“Still you left me hanging all day. What were those texts about?”
She had texted me earlier in the day to discuss plans for the evening. She had asked for flirting. I didn’t give that. “When we talked on the phone, I was trying to be clear. BUT, I had back to back meetings most of the day. It wasn’t until six this evening that I was really clear enough to have this conversation, clearly and definitively. But I’m clear about it now.”
Okay, so the drama is over. She has gotten the picture. I’m done. I’m not interested in hanging out and “having some fun together.” And I’m certain that I was not prepared to kiss again. Not even a little bit. The drug of even that is a powerful enough to cloud my clear thinking.
It’s hard. It’s messy. And I do give her the point that I jumped right up to the passion play pretty quickly after we met. It was a mutual thing, but I did do my part to fuel the fantasy. And then I saw the New Girl. And it became very clear, I was trying to justify or rationalise the relationship with KG and I wasn’t even in the ball park.
Seeing this “ideal” woman, who DID in fact show up in full regalia and say, “So are you checking me out?” She is most certainly still in the projected fantasy mode, but this time she and I are clear the slow pace is more important than the passion play. Well, at least that’s how she explained it to me.
“I’m not really big into passion. I’m not looking to fall madly in love with someone,” she said, yesterday on our walk.
“You’re not into passion?” I asked.
“Not at all. It’s just, I’m just more fixated on regular life. Sometimes all that passion, that stuff we were so high on when we were in our twenties, some how that’s not all that important to me, or how real life is.”
“Yes, I can see that. I lost my priorities when the big passion came on with my ex-wife. I let go of some of the things I now see were critical path for me.”
We sat in that moment. We rubbed her dog’s belly. We drank our Topo Chico. We enjoyed the moment.
She showed me her hands. “I want to be more like this,” she opened her hand, palm up. “Rather than this,” she flipped her hand and gripped the table. I agreed and took her hand in mine. Just for a minute we sat and held hands.
Then she volunteered, “When I say my vows again. I want it to be something like this. ‘I would like to spend the rest of my life with you, and we can be together.”
“I can see that.” I said. She was echoing my definition of beauty, that I had articulated in our first “lunch.”
The key words, the key idea, “for the rest of my life” resonated brightly with me.
That commitment does not allow for “almost” or compromise. Not at this point in my life. I don’t want to spend a single night in “almost.” I’d rather be alone. But I don’t want to be alone. So I have to look for the “rest of my life” girl.
And speeding up the process for sex, or passion, or kissing, is not a good idea. I want the relating to be ahead of the feeling. I want the experience of being “with” this person to be something coveted and sacred long before we make love. Kissing, maybe sooner than that. I mean, as I learned, kissing is a pretty powerful opening.
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It’s a big journey. But the next relationship is the biggest one of my life. And I want the mundane to be ecstatic simply because we are doing them together.
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But even that has no business being hurried. When GF 1.0 kissed me on the first date, I was swept up in the moment. And while that ended reasonably well, and even today’s Kissing Girl went away without a mortal wound, it was difficult and tiresome. We have a finite amount of energy, and I intend to use as much of it as I can, and use it wisely.
So, for me, I’m going to throttle down the runaway train, and be more conscious of the “being” together rather than the rush. I felt the rush with NG, right away. Seeing her, being with her, and the moment she asked me the telling question, I felt a thrill at even being inside her house. I had thought about her before.
So now we are in the micro-crush phase. We take small steps. We look and evaluate our compatibility on innumerable levels. How do they deal with disappointments even in this stage. How do you let them know of a change in plans? How frequently is contact desired, initiated, responded to? It’s all a microcosm of real life.
I really like the idea, of “being together” and letting the other stuff fall into place. Certainly I’d be sad if I didn’t think there would be BIG PASSION again. Because I can see how with the build and desire that I have already for NG, it would be HUGE, it will be HUGE if we kiss. And even BIGGER if we made love. But I want to experience every single nuance of the build between now and then. And I want to keep on experiencing the little steps of awakening excitement on through the “rest of our lives” together.
It’s a big journey. But the next relationship is the biggest one of my life. And I want the mundane to be ecstatic simply because we are doing them together. Idealistic? Perhaps. But I’m clear on one thing. Almost is NOT ENOUGH.
When poetry and song are part of the equation even before we’ve really started, all I can say, is we’re off to a great start. Even if the fantasy is still just mine, at this point, let’s see how the reality develops before my very eyes.
Update: In a short email KG said she was sorry. She asked, “Friends?” Here’s my response.
You are bright and beautiful. And I wish you all the best in your search. But I don’t think I can be friends.
Sincerely,
The Off Parent
< back to On Dating Again index
related posts:
- Burn the Maps!
- Little Turnoffs: On a First Date with a Woman
- Aqua y besos: How Do We Gain So Much Energy from Love?
- The Sensual and the Sexual
resources:
- The Divorce Library (reading list)
- Songs of Divorce (free listening library – youtube sourced songs)
- Laugh It Off (building a resource library of funny videos and other diversions)
- Facebook (follow us on Facebook and keep up with all the conversations)
- The 5 Love Languages (a book on love styles by Gary Chapman)
travel together
[from Making Love To Other Women – poetry]
when she trained her blue eyes on me and asked
“are you checking me out?”
i knew i had been snagged
at a game i most definitely wanted to be caught at
and she smiled
“yes”
she wanted to know how she’d done
and her eyes matched her blue shirt
and her smile revved the tempo of my heart
for a beat
“you did quite well, i mean…”
the words are not what escaped me
i paused to slow down and savor the moment
“i was”
and though there was distance and a table between us
we were pressed as close together as we’d ever been
“i’ve discovered that adoration is what grows
over time… and that may be what love is for me…
adoration”
breathing
“and were you checking me out?”
“not when you first arrived…
not until I saw that you were checking me out…”
guide rails: physical touch and emotional depth
unexplainable chemistry: “I could look at you forever”
and when all concepts and frameworks fail
there
then
develops the opportunity
to travel together
begin
4-19-13
Sex Without Desire Is More Like Porn Than Lovemaking
Maybe the term lovemaking actually does have a deeper meaning. In looking into the eyes of someone you are making love to, you want to see them looking back, and actually seeing you. The first time the ex-y returned my passionate gaze with the what’s-taking-so-long look, I knew we were not connecting. My arousal died in that moment. She had already had her orgasm. So I was okay with not having one myself. But..
It was a shocking moment for me. Like waking up in your marriage to discover she never really enjoyed sex that much anyway. While I don’t think that was the case with the ex-y, the moment we were locked in the throes of a stolen kid-free afternoon and I detected boredom in her eyes I was toast. I didn’t care about finishing. We were done. Or… More accurately, she was done.
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This might have spelled the end more clearly than I understood. She didn’t want sex. She fought about sex. She complained about how I asked for sex.
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In looking for that mix of love and sex it’s important to know what kinds of things turn us on and what kinds of things turn us off. Over time we learn these things about ourselves, and with a partner, we begin to learn them about the JOIN in our lovemaking. That’s where the LOVE is. It’s in having sex with the same person, knowing their ticklish spots, and their erotic zones so you can play their bodies like a nicely tuned guitar. That was my approach, anyway.
Having sex is a special event. It can be either casual and recreational, in which case, perhaps the “caring” and “love” part plays a lesser role. But a recent study on current sexual trends points us the other direction, towards intimacy, for better sex.
The Huffington Post picked up a Glamour story with the title: Hot Sex Includes Trust For 87 Percent Of Women, Says Survey. Interesting point, however, is MEN actually reported higher scores on wanting trust to fuel great sex. “The vast majority of men (95 percent) also agreed that an emotional connection makes a sexual experience more satisfying, and both genders said they cared more about satisfying their partner than themselves.” I guess, since it’s a woman’s magazine, the HER angle is more relevant, but the men seem to be catching on. Sex with someone you really want to be with is MUCH better than just sex.
And then there’s that little snippet at the end. “Both genders said they cared more about satisfying their partner than themselves.” UM, what?
I know this is how I feel. And how I felt on that day, 4 or so years ago, when my then-wife actually had chores or bills on her mind while I was in the process of making, or attempting to make, love to her. There was very little in her thoughts about satisfying me. She was done with her part and was simply waiting for me to finish.
This might have spelled the end more clearly than I understood. She didn’t want sex. She fought about sex. She complained about how I asked for sex. She always got off when we had sex, but she had started not-caring about the LOVE in the experience. And that was a deal killer, both in the moment and in our marriage.
Sincerely,
The Off Parent
Note: And at the very moment I saved this post, my phone dings and it shows I have a new email on Match.com. Tigermom333 has sent me an email. And even before I open the message, looking at a postage stamp sized image of her, I can see we are not even close to being a match. And someone might want to clue her in on picking a user name. ACK!
< back to On Dating Again index
related posts:
- Sex Rules: The Frequency, the Fun, and the Fantasy
- Browsable Women: The Three Hells of Online Dating
- Relationships and Dating Are A Bit Like Space Travel
- Blinding Desire
- Learning About “I Need You” vs. “I Want You”
resources:
- The Divorce Library (reading list)
- Songs of Divorce (free listening library – youtube sourced songs)
- Laugh It Off (building a resource library of funny videos and other diversions)
- Facebook (follow us on Facebook and keep up with all the conversations)
- The 5 Love Languages (a book on love styles by Gary Chapman)
Huffington Post Link: Hot Sex Includes Trust For 87 Percent Of Women
Cheating Hearts, Cheating Minds
I don’t think I ever caught her cheating on me. I’m going to assume that she told me the truth about things when confronted. But, without taking her clothes off, there was a moment, a very painful moment, that I can now see was really an affair. It didn’t wreck our marriage, but it put a huge hole in my trust. And when things got difficult it was occasionally hard for me to not imagine she was seeing him, or someone, for lunch again.
After all, she was in a relationship when we ran into each other again. And she took some lunches and even a date with me before calling it off with me, so she could go figure if she was IN or OUT with the other guy.
IF I had owned that this behavior was a problem, I MIGHT have avoided the marriage and divorce all together. That of course, is not the way things worked out. She called me about six weeks after asking for a “moment of silence” and simply said, “We’re done.” My first question, “What are you doing tonight? Wanna go over to a friend’s and watch a movie with us?” “Sure.” Swoon. Remove brain from cranium and move to other head. Again, water under the bridge, but looking back, to uncover my mistakes, this was the biggest one. IF she was willing to have lunches with ME, while still living with HIM… (I didn’t really know the status of their relationship at the time.) I just don’t think that was very CLEAR. For the other guy or me.
Jump cut about 4 years later and we’re married with a child in the crib. Wow. A wonderful life.
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It was from a younger man, who she had recently started working with as part of a freelance team. He was thanking her for sharing the local library with him as a place for coffee and respite within our community.
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And then we were unjustly interrupted, like everyone else, by the prosperity ending 911 tragedy. The comfy lifestyle and happy home became a source of stress and “oh my goodness.” And unfortunately, my self-employment viability came crashing to the ground as my clients all FROZE all business. I struggled. I got depressed. I got on medication. I hated life. I loved my wife and kid. But I was suddenly not sure how I was going to support them or the lifestyle I had hoped to accomplish at this point in my life.
So we soldiered along and the second child was born into this rough world. We got what we wanted, a boy AND a girl. Happy bouncing babies. Not so happy and bouncing parents.
One day, during this “rough patch” I came home and pulled up a browser on her computer. We always used whatever computer was on the desk at the time. (this was before universal wifi everywhere) And her gmail account was open. Nonchalantly, I noticed some spam in her inbox, and as I was the gatekeeper, I clicked on one of the spammy messages.
It was not spam.
It was from a younger man, who she had recently started working with as part of a freelance team. He was thanking her for sharing the local library with him as a place for coffee and respite within our community. He was talking to her about “dealing with your husband’s depression” and “let’s do it again soon.”
In my fragile mental state I almost cracked. I can see how this kind of thing would make people go mad. At that point I was not all that comfortable with my anger, so I turned it inward and go sad. And fat. And what hope I had was lost to my wrong-headed fantasies about their tryst.
I did tell her and she apologized and said she saw how this would hurt me and that she would stop. She claimed to be unaware of how it “might have affected me” since she was innocent of any real transgression, but she would abide by my wishes and not see this guy for lunches anymore. And she would tell him as well.
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I am getting clearer and clearer in my request for a relationship. And ultimately I am attempting to learn about my heart, my communication styles, and my needs.
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But the wound was slow to heal for me. She seemed to move right along, except when I would bring it up in counseling. But even then, it wasn’t anything all that important, other than how I perceived it. She said. I’m certain she understood how it hurt me, as I expressed this fairly well. But she was unwilling to really dig into what had made her share intimate details of our lives with a stranger. How she would turn to him for comfort rather than explore the pain with me. We were already in therapy. What was she doing with THAT time?
I took screenshots of all of the messages and put them away somewhere. But later, as I was purging my own pain and guilt, I deleted them. I would not want to look back on them now. But this experience does allow me to reflect on several things.
- My ex-y was having honesty issues, even with me, when we met.
- While she wasn’t very expressive of her emotions, they did exist.
- The warning flare around her intention in going to lunch with me while living with another man, should have been a deal killer. But she was/is very beautiful. I fell for her charms and did not listen to the concerns I should have been hearing.
It reminds me a little bit of the woman, who more recently stopped responding with positive reinforcements when I asked her to do things. Truth is, she liked to drink. And though I occasionally have a glass of wine or a beer, it’s not part of my normal day. Giving up alcohol for Lent would be trivial, not a hardship. (ice cream would be hard)
I am getting clearer and clearer in my request for a relationship. And I am honing my listening skills. And ultimately I am attempting to learn about my heart, my communication styles, and my needs. THEN, and only after I have some clarity for myself, am I open to having a new relationship enter my life. The one I am ready for.
Sincerely,
The Off Parent
< back to The Hard Stuff pages
related posts:
- My Divorce: A Searching and Fearless Moral Inventory
- Waiting for the Other Person to Change
- Love, War, Divorce: Why I’m Not Fighting My Ex-Wife About Custody
- Divorce is Not About What’s Fair, Let’s Get That Straight
- Getting Angry, Reaching Forgiveness, and Moving On After Divorce
resources:
- The Divorce Library (reading list)
- Songs of Divorce (free listening library – youtube sourced songs)
- Laugh It Off (building a resource library of funny videos and other diversions)
- Facebook (follow us on Facebook and keep up with all the conversations)
- The 5 Love Languages (a book on love styles by Gary Chapman)
There Is No Fountain of Youth; Let’s Find A Deeper Level of Connection
I guess it’s traditionally a woman thing. This obsession with youth, taut breasts, eye wrinkles, etc. And maybe culture HAS established this bar of glamour. Magazines, television, movies, celebrity, we are in love with the beautiful. And for many youth has it’s allure. But it’s very thin this skin deep obsession. And in this moment, I am trying to understand even more clearly want my own wants and desires are, and what drives my taste vs my passion.
I was educated on a woman’s body by Penthouse magazine. And before you glaze over and discount this observation, I want you to understand that in my generation, that’s what we had. And yes there was a very clear distinction between Penthouse and Playboy. Playboy was about big tits. Penthouse was about showing the vagina. And occasionally Penthouse taunted and trained us with the obsessive fantasy of lesbians. Hot lesbians. Lipstick lesbians, who while, into each other at the moment, would clearly like us to enter the picture at any moment. That was the bill of goods we were being fed.
And maybe the irony is, you were raised on a different kind of porn, but porn nonetheless. Women’s fashion magazines are part the media training that you received in identifying what was beautiful and what a real man desired.
We’ve both been sold a load of crap. And the lie continues. Even the medical authorities have gotten into the game with longevity medicine. Now, in addition to Botox and lifts you can have your biological chemistry measured and you can subscribe to a supplement regimen that is guaranteed .. Oh wait, no guarantees… Sorry.
There are a few elixirs that I DO know of that work. And the remarkable thing is, they work for both of us, men and women. Here’s what I believe about fitness and beauty.
Yoga is probably to perfect exercise. It incorporates self-reflection, patience, meditation, and relaxation. The term flexibility that applies to yoga is also a topical remedy to everything life throws us. Understand and learn how to be flexible. Move when the pressure is too much. Breath into the issue and see if there is an answer in the pause.
Water and supplements are required. No matter how well you eat, unless you’re paying a chef to keep you healthy, you will probably need a supplement or two. In the functional medicine world, these supplements can be expensive and very pinpointed for your “condition.” A very popular local MD has a two month waiting list to get into her “program.” And the opening volley is two thousand dollars. Before supplements Nice if you can afford it, but… You can afford a very high-quality organic vitamin from Whole Foods that should cover a good portion of your nutrient deficiencies. (Of course I have no idea what I’m talking about, I’m just saying, you probably need supplements of some sort, so get the best vitamin you can afford and take it.) And if you are drinking other things MORE than water, try and continue to shift the balance back towards water. Clean water.
What you eat can have a huge effect on your health, weight, appearance. So pay attention to what works or does not work for your body. I recently started doing a paleo regimen and I dropped 17 lbs without really adding much additional exercise to my planning. I’m back up about 5 lbs from that point, because I added some breads and desserts in as a celebration. The celebration is over. Back to simple meat and veggies.
Exercise is fun if you like to do it. If you don’t, find something you DO like to do. I love tennis. I love walking around the lake where hundreds of others are walking. And I almost always work with great music driving me on. If you don’t exercise your body will have less resilience. And without exercise your diet is going to help but not kick you back into the fitness level YOU desire.
Let’s get this straight. I’m not ever going to have the body I had as a high school swimmer. BUT, a man my age, I’m not really interested in looking for the high school swimmer to date either. The young woman in the picture above is beautiful, and just starting out in life. She’s more a daughter figure than a date. And while the porn and media still show us the 20-somethings as the object of affection, I’ve pretty much moved on.
Youth is amazing to look at. And youth needs our guidance to keep their orientation on career path rather than glamour, cheerleading, or sports. Sure, do those things too. Be popular. But think about what you are going to do for a living.
And as far as our generation goes (I’m at the tail-end of the boomer generation) let’s let go of gravity-free breasts, cheeks caked and injected, and hair so processed it’s not really hair, it’s a wig.
As the ex-y went from a runner physique to a mother physique I was pleased. Very happy with both incarnations of her beautiful body. And when her breast went from beauty to utility and then ended their supply run, I was still just as in love with them, as they had aged gracefully and naturally.
I’m no authority on fashion or cultural stereotypes, but I know that I have my own youthful-addiction when it comes to beautiful bodes in movies, music videos, and on the net. (Not so much into porn these days, as touch is so much more critical path for me.) And I still, personally, go for the bad girl. Even when all the signs are there. And I’m guessing this is partially the culture and media culture as well.
Here’s a final example of my own whacked out beauty measuring stick. In the video below make a note that Courtney Love is 45 years old in the video and has had hundreds of thousands of dollars of plastic surgery done to tuck and sculpt her into this bad girl. And the bass player, who is much more my type, is also a figment of our imagination, rather than a real person. How they smile, tease and entice with their siren’s looks and come hither moves. Oh…
click for video
But we know for a fact that Courtney Love has some serious mental problems. And yet, she’s desirable. BUT, I will note, not in a relationship kind of way, but in a pretty-to-look-at obsessive way.
The end of the video has a surreal moment with a beach full of women in lifeguard bathing suits carrying baby dolls at their breasts. And Ms. Love walking through them and tears off her dress and jumps in the ocean.
Her final lyrics are, “I can’t be near you, the light just radiates. I can’t be near you, the light just radiates.” And from the wikipedia entry, Love is “a woman who, for the last 15 years, has been as famous for being a rock star as she’s been for being a victim.” Courtney Love
This Barbara Walters interview shows a bit of the train wreck of Courtney Love. But I think this picture of the vixen at Cochella this year, shows a bit more clearly how the facade is not holding up that well. And still, there is a that bad girl appeal somewhere in my gut. YUK. No thank you. Maybe this is reinforcing the “youth” stereotype, but it’s not her youth or lack of youth that is appealing or appalling. It’s her entire show.
Sincerely,
The Off Parent
< back to On Dating Again index
Resources:
- The Divorce Library (reading list)
- Songs of Divorce (free listening library – youtube sourced songs)
- Laugh It Off (building a resource library of funny videos and other diversions)
- Facebook (follow us on Facebook and keep up with all the conversations)
- The 5 Love Languages (a book on love styles by Gary Chapman)
Trying to Talk About Sex with My Wife: Texting In Bed
“I’m having sex, 90% of the time alone.”
This conversation happened in bed in the form of a poem we wrote back and forth between us. Texting appeared easier than talking sometimes. She seemed to need time to consider and formulate her responses. I was in a sexually starved marriage. She had other problems. Sex was not one of her issues. Once a month, if at all, was okay with her. It was MY issue, obviously. There were other enlightening moments, but it was clearly a core problem in our marriage. When one partner begins freezing out the other one, sexually, there is a disconnect. Intimacy is a basic need. When the sex dies, in my opinion, the relationship is close behind.
+++ texting – unedited +++
i’m having sex, 90% of the time alone
so financial crisis moments appear and go away
and I too feel fatigue when my trustworthiness is raised again and again
not a crisis
more of a chronic situation of the relationship
weariness of wanting to go into it
now you have to put some stuff in.
—
also weary of the dialogue around sex – frequency
my time is so spoken for
i don’t see that changing
if we could actually put every moment spent on considering the vectors of the situation of not that much (together) sex
in to crafting a situation where it could happen
we would create actual sexual encounters.
i get weary of focus on my not meeting your needs for sex
pretty much feel like your framing of the issue is you want more sex
so what can we do to get me available for more sex
and that this framing is in your mind
not expressed so much by action
In my (quite open to possibility of distortion on my part) world, I am a)working, b)sleeping, c)doing a mission-critical thing for kids, d) doing some other mission-critical thing (house, etc). Not really spending any bandwidth researching the dynamics of things you are doing or not doing that don’t meet my needs. I do speak up with clear asks, but that’s all I can muster.
so it is frustrating and feels weird that you have this thing going on where I continue not to meet your needs
at the same time I have no bandwidth left to meet any other needs period.
—
so do YOU have sexual desire?
—
yes.
—
and are you happy with your sex life?
—
in the context of reality – other real, now dynamics of time etc – sure
—
then we have a mismatch in desire, wouldn’t you say?
And that is a critical path issue for me. As much as money or housekeeping or kidkeeping is for the WE.
—
Yes. It is a critical path issue for you to __________________?
—
Discuss with you what’s missing. What’s wrong with this situation. Evaluate what’s going on. Is it desire? Trust? Money? Work? Housekeeping?
My TXT last Sunday saying, “I’m thinking about masterbating… but I’d rather have sex with you was a good opening.” and we were successful in connecting.
We need more casual wins.
What I am curious about is… how things have changed for you from what I imagine our SEX life was like 3 years ago.
I do not buy the house, work, sleepy idea. Something else perhaps?
What has changed for me is… The “connection” that you were speaking about say 2 months ago
to me the miss or lack is due to lack of contact and intimacy.
Sex doesn’t seem to be a part of that equation for you. Now, of course I am telling you it is. (grin)
—
Definitely it is a critical path issue for both of us, because you are materially unhappy (altho not in a crisis way) with the frequency and ____________ (connection?) of our sex (intimate?) life and therefore it makes the WE.
The txt was notable to me. so direct.
The not buying about sleepy and house…it’s like the conversation we had where you were asking me: what do you need? And I told you. “To see the numbers.” and that that was really what I needed was so out of range of believeable to you – you didn’t buy it – that it never occured to you to do the numbers, or engage with me to say OK, lets do the numbers now.
But it was true. I needed to see the numbers. YOU never actually need to see the numbers for that particular kind of situation. But I do.
So you ask what would help….per sex….and I nearly always come around to: house (a visually peaceful – that sensuality for me), sleep or workout (that’s body – a key to my sensuality). But you CANT BUY it. Because it’s not your experience of the world, I guess.
I’m empathetic with NOT BUYING another person’s experience. Certainly I miss on this more than rarely.
On the mismatch of desire. Maybe we have a mismatch in the desire for genital rubbing and intercourse v other sensuality. I feel like I live in a world of visual sensuality, and touch, and working out – exertion, and some kinds of foods – beautiful, fresh foods. And then there is sex, like, in bed sex.
And ? for you the sensuality of life stacks up differently. Sex straight UP gets more brain cells – loving the clean curves and surfaces gets fewer. Fresh pinapple, not so much. Ice cream – a lot!!
More pragmatically, there is a cycle we are in that at least does not help. I can’t sleep next to you. When we are spooned, the snoring is so loud – some just because of what spooning does, put your mouth in my ear, I wake up. Then, if I am awake, I have to go to another room. This was not the case 3 years ago.
I don’t have a point of entry in to that situation. Not sure.
—
You have not told me recently about the snoring and that is the reason you are leaving the bedroom so frequently. I am always happy to apply a breathrite strip. They seem to help. And I need to lose weight. I am actively working on that.
Back a the discussion about what you needed, it was not that I didn’t buy your experience. In fact, we agreed that restarting money discussions was probably critical path.
We didn’t DO the financial plans again until we were reminded by our counselor of the critical WE in everything.
+++ end of texting +++
I used to say “It wasn’t my idea,” about the divorce. And in my divorce recovery group, I was definitely self-identified as the dumpee. But what was different is I was beginning to express my dissatisfaction with the status quo. Her money-house-tired story had reached the end of my accepting it. I was tired of having sex alone 90% of the time. I was demanding we talk about it.
What didn’t know was she was already in the process of figuring out her options. Probably, in terms of her critical path issues, house and money she was beginning the process of trying to figure out what she would get if she decided to go for a divorce.
When she admitted in therapy that she had already consulted with a lawyer, I was stunned. “Well,” I said. “I guess you are a lot further down the road than I am about this.” And she got motivated to find full-time work and basically created a job within a few months. And then, I suppose she saw the potential for escape from her private hell.
I remember saying to her, once the “divorce” was agreed to, “So you think it’s me that’s making you so mad all the time? And you think I’m going to walk out that door and you are somehow going to transform into a happy person? Wow. I think you are wrong.”
The WE is the construct and loving connection of the relationship. What we learned from our time in couples therapy: everything we do together, every commitment we make and break, every communication we share, is part of the WE. As our WE collapsed under the isolation and frustration that was occurring between us, my then-wife simply got mad and stayed mad. She didn’t want to be intimate. She was mad. She woke up mad. She stayed mad all day.
Today, nine years later, she’s still more like a hornet than a rational human being when dealing with me.
Sincerely,
The Off Parent
Resources:
- The Divorce Library (reading list)
- Songs of Divorce (free listening library – youtube sourced songs)
- Laugh It Off (building a resource library of funny videos and other diversions)
- Facebook (follow us on Facebook and keep up with all the conversations)
- The 5 Love Languages (a book on love styles by Gary Chapman)
Oh, “that” Conversation Comes Up – Post-Divorce Holidays
It happened last night. The “big” conversation. It wasn’t that I was trying to avoid it, but I didn’t really prepare for it. What can you do? Be open and honest.
She, the “girlfriend,” was asking about the balance in our relationship. She was/is/has been expressing her desire and affection for me. She was curious if I was enjoying our relationship for something more than affection, comfort, sex, and closeness.
Huh?
Okay, I knew what she was asking. In a subtle way, she’s been asking all along, “Do you love me?” Not directly, that’s not what she was asking, but she wasn’t hearing the words she was seeking when she professed her affection for me.
I tried to explain:
“I’m unpacking a lot of old baggage. You are helping me un-armor and open up. And we connect on so many levels. I am certain that I don’t know the answer to what you are asking, but I am giving you all of my available time, I’m not looking for another relationship, I am here.”
She retreated to the familiar, “It’s okay. I mean, I know you like me a lot.”
And I didn’t say this, “That is enough. That is all I have.”
We’ve been “dating” for 95 days. And it is Christmas. Her first Christmas post-divorce. This is my third. And I’m damn happy. Well, I’m not 100% happy. I’m still missing my kids deeply. But I’m confident that they are in an okay place with their mom, and they will be excited to see and be with me starting tomorrow at 2pm. (Christmas Day.)
And she may be right when she says that she’s my “healing relationship.” And I’m okay with that. But what I do know, is that I have very few “adult” experiences of being with another person.
We are equals. She doesn’t need me. We have good solid lives. We enjoy time together. And we make plans to spend as much time together as possible.
What more is there, at this point in our trajectory? Anything else would be jumping the gun, in my opinion. And I’m certainly not stepping in to fill her Christmas sadness. I can’t. I don’t want to. And I won’t. She’s got to work that out on her own. I will be there. I will hold her. And I will be with her and her kids tonight, Christmas eve. (Because I can’t be with mine!)
And we will be boyfriend and girlfriend.
And that’s enough, for now.
Sincerely,
The Off Parent
< back to On Dating Again index
Resources:
- The Divorce Library (reading list)
- Songs of Divorce (free listening library – youtube sourced songs)
- Laugh It Off (building a resource library of funny videos and other diversions)
- Facebook (follow us on Facebook and keep up with all the conversations)
- The 5 Love Languages (a book on love styles by Gary Chapman)
Kiss Kiss Bang Bang: Waking Up My Passionate Lover
Okay, I have to use the word “girlfriend” at this point. It’s been well over 90 days, and she’s still around and still at the center of my off parent time. And… Well… It’s kind of hard to say, “I have no idea what I’m doing.”
What I know is… She is my first relationship post divorce. Those other things were blips.
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When she woke up my desire I screwed her like I really remembered screwing. Passion. Energy. And stamina.
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She matches me in so many ways (love of music, sleeping patterns, creative ambition, ability to nap and rest rather than strive) that I think I’m trying to figure out what’s wrong.
Here’s what happened. She came right out and said it on our introductory drink. “You are much cuter than your profile!”
I’m sure I paused at that. [Was this woman just forward? Was she a desperate? What was wrong with her, couldn’t she see how fucked up I was at that very moment?]
And I walked her out to her car. An awkward moment, to be sure. And there, next to her cute convertible mini, she leaned in for what could only be a signal for “kiss me.” And I stepped up to the plate and planted a good kiss on her. Grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her even closer. Even as I was freaking out, “What the fuck? Am I insane? Oh to hell with it!”
And I walked back to my car, in a bit of a daze. Erect and ready, sure, but also confused.
And then on came the relationship. She was “into me” she said it frequently and without shame. I know she was asking for the same response from me. But I was too busy trying to examine my own WTF response to her mere presence in my life.
So on she came. Like a force, like a drug. And on she came, asking deep questions, stroking me with every opportunity, and singing my praises.
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I know the ADORE has to go both ways. Is that what’s growing within me? Am I growing to adore her, or just getting more comfortable in the relationship?
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At the same time I was a little off balance, she was the definition of what I was asking for just a few months ago. (Yoga Girl Next Door)
A few nights ago, returning from a trip, I was bushed and just wanted to sleep. She wanted satisfaction. She missed me. She hungered for me. When she woke up my desire I screwed her like I really remembered screwing. Passion. Energy. And stamina.
The headboard of her bed banging against the wall.
And for the last few days, I’ve been the On Parent again, and my stomach muscles have been telling me, cheering me, about my prowess. Damn!
So am I jumping into the next phase because of the extraordinary stress in my family situation right now? Am I stealing the bootie by sexing and caressing and sleeping with someone who… how can I say it… who is not my erotic ideal? And really, what does that mean?
The only thing I can grasp on to: This is still an early relationship. There is no need to jump further into things. We are three months into things. I don’t have to marry her and settle down next week. So I am observing, with curiosity, my attraction to other women. Sure: younger, skinnier, darker hair, darker skin. But those physical things are NOTHING compared to the ADORATION.
I know the ADORE has to go both ways. Is that what’s growing within me? Am I growing to adore her, or just getting more comfortable in the relationship? I know there is tension in the place where she is CRUSHING and I am not. But that should not be a problem if we stay open and honest.
That’s the trick. That will be the trick. I meet an attractive ideal, and I want to… what? Kiss? Date? Go to lunch? At what point do I have to tell her, “I’m still kinda looking.” A sad moment that will be.
Until that point, or the point at which I succumb to her charms and beauty, I will be aware of what is going on inside of me, and try to sort out what is real and what is fantasy. She is certainly REAL. She is certainly WARM and TOUCHY-FEELY.
And I could go on about her great qualities. Solid. Financially stable. Beautiful eyes.
I sound like I’m still trying to convince myself.
Sincerely,
The Off Parent
< back to On Dating Again index
Related Posts:
To Love and Be Loved (Dating After Divorce)
Adoration is a wonderful and powerful thing. The woman I am dating has been responsible for lifting me up with the sheer will and determination of her adoration.
But somehow the word “girlfriend” still feels weird in my mouth. Like “wife” did when I first got married. After a while you begin to like the sound of it. I’m not there yet.
Last night, at her house, she said, “You know next Wednesday it will be eight weeks.”
“Huh?”
“Since we met.”
So why am I so reticent? What is my hold up?
It’s back to that adoration thing. It is absolutely frickin wonderful to be adored. And adored like I have never been before. Adored after a devastating divorce which left me nearly crippled. And on so many ways, this is enough.
But in one way, it is not enough. And I think I’ve got a handle on part of it.
The adoration from someone is a powerful healing force. BUT the complete circle is not made until you too are adoring back. It’s like I’m half open. I’m grateful. I’m loving. But I’m not adoring.
She feels it. She pushes against it, even if it’s like pushing on a sore spot. Because I can’t say it’s there if it isn’t. I can’t profess my undying love (like I did in my first two marriages) if I’ve still got my eye out for something that hits my chemistry love button as well.
But I don’t have to make all those decisions now. I have to be honest. I have to not lie when she pines for my “l” word. And I don’t have to make the decision to be with her till death or divorce do us part. We’re still only 8 weeks into it.
Sincerely,
The Off Parent
< back to On Dating Again index
Resources:
- The Divorce Library (reading list)
- Songs of Divorce (free listening library – youtube sourced songs)
- Laugh It Off (building a resource library of funny videos and other diversions)
- Facebook (follow us on Facebook and keep up with all the conversations)
- The 5 Love Languages (a book on love styles by Gary Chapman)
Divorce Growing Pains: Accepting that She Doesn’t Want Reconciliation
As things begin to pick up for me again, both emotionally and financially, I still get this twinge of anger from time to time about the woman who lost confidence in me. Often there is one person who does not want the divorce (the dumpee) and the person who initiates the divorce.
And the spark of pain, that I occasionally still have to acknowledge and let go of, is SHE decided long before I did that she was done. When she toyed with “maybe a separation would help me,” she had already talked to a lawyer. I was still solid as a rock that we would get through this. We had been through so many trials of the spirit before, this was a chance to set some of our emotional connections right. That was my delusion.
It was November of last year, that I sent the last, “If I could change anything, or start over with someone…” email. She demurred. She was not interested. But what that letter did for me was release every last option in MY control. And when she passed, I was free to really explore dating.
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She was looking to greener pastures. She was giving up on me. That still stings.
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It didn’t work out that my aggressive get-out-and-fk approach didn’t really work for me. But I did let her go on another level when I saw myself actually having sex with another (a different) woman. Some core sexual thread was released back to me. I was still not sure that I wanted it back. I am still attracted to most of her physical qualities, her smell, the way she dresses, her smile.
But she is not attracted to me any more. She moved on within weeks of the final divorce and began sleeping with a plumber who caught her eye. WOW, now that was bold, or way off, you’d have to ask her. But it was at that time that I was so happy we’d put the “six-month dating before introducing to the kids” rule in our parenting plan.
She didn’t want to try separation. She was trying a way to ease me out of the relationship She was looking to greener pastures. She was giving up on me. That still stings. All the money we now put into TWO homes have made the economics much more stressful.
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So we move along. We grow. We challenge what we knew about relationship, what we think we know about physical and spiritual attraction.
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That final stage of release continues to happen. And I find myself looping back into desire for “what was.” It’s not for her any more, but the idea and memory of the wonderful times we had. And the loss every single time I drop my kids off and won’t see them for 5 days. OUCH! That I never wanted.
Today, I can say my dreams of reconciliation are more about getting my kids back. She’s not available to me. She’s been with her BF for almost a year. He’s met the kids. And even if she asked tomorrow, admitted her mistake, I know that I would say “No.” She was emotionally distant the entire relationship She didn’t know how to connect with deep feelings. It was never safe for her to do so with her mom and dad.
So we move along. We grow. We challenge what we knew about relationship, what we think we know about physical and spiritual attraction. And now we move in different directions. And that too is good.
Sincerely,
The Off Parent
< back to The Hard Stuff pages
related posts:
- Easier To Be Quiet
- You Know They’re Watching You, Right?
- The Divorce Whisperer
- Of Course You’re Not Happy With Me, We’re Divorced
resources:
- The Divorce Library (reading list)
- Songs of Divorce (free listening library – youtube sourced songs)
- Laugh It Off (building a resource library of funny videos and other diversions)
- Facebook (follow us on Facebook and keep up with all the conversations)
- The 5 Love Languages (a book on love styles by Gary Chapman)
What You Can’t Leave Behind After Divorce
Kids. Pets. A House. A neighborhood. A lifestyle.
There is no escape from your history with this person. And the loss of so many touchpoints in such a short period of time… Devastating. As I tried to capture in the Jetpack post, you have no idea that you are about to go into free fall, but it is coming nonetheless. And the reaction and recovery from that shock can determine your trajectory over the next several years, maybe lifetime.
Another U2 song then quickly becomes a new anthem. “I Still Haven’t Found, What I’m Looking For.”
One of the things I realize, as I am now single again, is my complete commitment to my previous relationship. What I was certain of, and what perhaps prevented me from noticing the devastating changes in my marriage, as it was falling apart, is I was IN. There was no hesitation or ambiguity about my loyalty. Even as I fell further and further into lonliness and depression–WHILE STILL MARRIED–I was unaware that the foundation of my marriage was in danger. For me I was still 100% committed. While my ex-y had already consulted with a lawyer about “options.”
So I’m learning, or at least exploring, that adoration must go both ways for me. And I’m not talking yoga instructor hot, but there has to be a sense of overwhelm, intoxication, before I’m convinced that the object of my affection is enough. I’m still trying to figure out if that is an unrealistic or unhealthy expectation. Or if it is a requirement that wraps up my imagination in a way that excludes any other woman.
Too much intoxication or obsession signals a different problem. And probably points to an unhealthy relationship with my primary care providers, mom and dad. But not enough and I’m not sure that I’ve found what I’m looking/longing for.
Sincerely,
The Off Parent
Resources:
- The Divorce Library (reading list)
- Songs of Divorce (free listening library – youtube sourced songs)
- Laugh It Off (building a resource library of funny videos and other diversions)
- Facebook (follow us on Facebook and keep up with all the conversations)
- The 5 Love Languages (a book on love styles by Gary Chapman)
Nobody Is Going to Hold Your Dream for You
So when did we start making love to abs? I’m kinda sick of it. I mean, don’t get me wrong, a sculpted body is nice, and obvious results from a hell of a lot of work… But…
I’ve seen my abs once in my life. I was a sophomore in high school, I was on the swim team and we were swimming twice a day, lifting weights, and eating well. It was all so planned and supported. And I had swimming teammates, and perhaps a romantic interest in more than one of the women on the swim team. It’s kind of what you do up East in the Winter. Swim, Basketball, or Ice Hockey. I swam.
Once in my life I had the abs we so aspire to. But is it like pornography, the uber-fit woman or man? Sure we glamorize the human body. And the magazines are filled with 20 – 30 year olds who have spent a good bit of their free time working on their abs. I can’t think of anything quite so boring.
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I’m afraid the effort it takes to maintain that form would completely outweigh the potential time with me, or time fulfilling other parts of what’s important in a life.
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I wasn’t one to spend time in a gym. I mean, running on a treadmill going nowhere. What do you do with that? Watch TV? No thanks. And something about being inside, always feels kind of like cheating. But, then again, I live in Texas, and it’s fuckin hot out there. So what’s the trade off?
I probably will not see my iron stomach again in this lifetime. I mean, it’s possible, but it’s not really a goal of mine. I can’t add up the number of hours it would take, doing stuff I don’t like doing, hate actually, over the next 6-months to a year. Um, yeah… Not going to happen.
That’s not to say I don’t have ideas of getting in better shape. I do. It’s just, the learnings I am getting along the journey back to fitness from depression, divorce, and isolation, are unbelievably valuable. It’s a process back to myself. Back to learning what I’m in it for, what I like doing, and what the time is worth that I could be spending “at the gym.”
I have plans. I am getting ready to work with a nutritionist to learn about things like gluten and carbs and my particular chemical make up. But I can tell you this, I have had love handles in some shape and form, since I was 2 years old. And that one brief period of my life, when I was 15, was the only time I’m going to have a GQ-cover-worth stomach.
So that’s not my goal. And while I would love to nuzzle up to the beautiful body above, I’m afraid the effort it takes to maintain that form would completely outweigh the potential time with me, or time fulfilling other parts of what’s important in a life.
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She once said to me, about her beauty, “It’s all I have.” She was depressed about her divorce and she drank alone on weekends when she didn’t have her kids.
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There’s a lot to be said for physical beauty. And there’s a lot more to be said for attitude, life approach, centeredness, and warmth. (see Enlightenment post) And when I find the next woman, I hope she has a slim figure, it’s what I’m trained to be drawn towards. [It probably has more to do with my older sister’s ghost than any media driven ideal.] But that’s not the first thing I’m looking for or at.
So here’s the concept: No one is going to hold your dream for you. The woman who I met a few weeks ago, who felt like a first possible “match” was not impressed by something. And she couldn’t possibly see the me I am aiming for. And could I actually expect her to understand my self-improvement plan? No, of course, she sees what she sees.
And the lesson here is, SO DO I. I see myself, and if I compare my stomach to my 15-year-old stomach, I might get depressed. But it’s not about my stomach flatness. That might be something that she is interested in. And it might be something that I marginally aspire towards, but it’s nothing like the athletic-gym-addict stomach above.
I recently met, and hung out with a woman who resembles the picture above. She was funny, cute, spunky, and obviously obsessed with her image. She once said to me, about her beauty, “It’s all I have.” She was depressed about her divorce and she drank alone on weekends when she didn’t have her kids. [The definition of tragedy.]
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We can’t set anyone else’s priorities or reprogram their dreams. The near match woman was as close as I’ve come to someone who seemed balanced.
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But she didn’t have time for me. I wasn’t stalking her or anything. We went out dancing one of those vodka nights. And we had a blast. And I was only able to wrestle one more meeting out of her, over coffee where she fiddled with her iPad the entire time.
Her email later said it all. “We can have fun. I just have to get some more of my life back together first.”
A few months later I saw her running on the trail around the lake. There was a moment of recognition and she ducked her head and ran on past. Yes, fine, I didn’t want to interrupt her run.
Later I pinged her via email. “Did I see you this afternoon on the trail?”
“Yes, that’s about all I have time for, being a single parent and all. Work, working out, and taking care of my kids.”
“Okay, well, you looked good. Hope you are well. Cheers.”
That’s what we’re all doing. Setting priorities between work, self, kids, relationships, spiritual practice. There’s only so many hours, and of course, you are what you pay attention to.
So I’m happy with a flat and fit stomach on others. And I do want to get mine in better proportion to how I would like to look. But if I start aspiring towards my old 16-year-old body, I can lose sight of my own priorities.
We can’t set anyone else’s priorities or reprogram their dreams. The near match woman was as close as I’ve come to someone who seemed balanced. And if I’d been more balanced, maybe she’d have seen the same spark I saw. But, of course, she could not hold the idea of who I was becoming, or where I was going. How could she? There’s no one who is going to hold your dream for you.
No worries. Of course she is out there. And the me I want to be is too. Oh wait… The me I want to be is right here. I need to remember that.
It gets better.
Sincerely,
The Off Parent
@theoffparent
related posts:
- The Promise in a Thumbnail; Online Dating Hits and Misses
- The Honey Trap: How Beauty Can Lead Us Astray
- The Malleable Trajectory of Desire in Online Dating
- All Kinds of Women and the Sparks of Desire
- Fractured People: Learning About Boundaries in Dating After Divorce
resources:
- The Divorce Library (reading list)
- Songs of Divorce (free listening library – youtube sourced songs)
- Laugh It Off (building a resource library of funny videos and other diversions)
- Facebook (follow us on Facebook and keep up with all the conversations)
- The 5 Love Languages (a book on love styles by Gary Chapman)
A Moment of Enlightenment Has Arrived: The Path I’m Leaving Behind
I could hope for an Age of Enlightenment, but I’m being realistic.
I can comfortably say that I have passed through the Dark Ages, and I am somewhere in the Between Ages. But I have also reached a moment, this moment, where I can see certain things quite clearly. And while the path ahead is not clear, the mistakes of the ages behind has never been clearer.
The other day I was describing what I was seeking in my relationship.
“Someone who is warm and deep feeling.”
You see, I believe those are two of my strongest qualities. 1. Warmth: expresses joy and togetherness easily, often encourages and brings energy and happiness into a room when they arrive. 2. Deep Feeling: able to connect with the emotions that are often the cause of suffering, disappointment, and immense joy.
It is my understanding, at this moment, that deep feeling and warmth are the two qualities I have not held out for in my first attempts at marriage. There are a lot of traits to connect and disconnect with people on, and somehow my other “needs” or “connective traits” seemed more important at the time. Maybe I was lonely. Maybe I lost sight of what was possible. But somehow I settled on these two qualities in both my previous marriages.
While my most recent wife was beautiful, smart, devoted, and organized. The labels of “warmth” and “deep feeling” are probably not going to be generally applied to her personality. That’s okay. We are all different. And maybe what is warmth to me is something different to others. That’s all fine. But for me, even at the beginning, when we were courting madly, there was that spark of joy missing. The deep feeling seemed to arise when we were engaged in lovemaking and enjoying a glass of wine, but of course, you can’t always be fucking and drinking, there’s a lot more to life.
So outside of those kinds of extraordinary circumstances, what is the quality of the person you are looking to be with? When the tasks become more mundane, what is the timbre of the relationship?
So this momentary illumination of these two critical traits is important. I don’t have to try and convince myself that these two traits are more important than a flat stomach or an activated and creative imagination. Both of my wives had brilliant creative impulses, and both were beautiful to look at.
Online dating is an opportunity to refine your perspective. In many ways, building a profile on an online dating site is like setting intentions.
1. We have to say who we are: Here is what I want you to know about me. Here is how I present myself in my best light. Here is a picture that I think does make me look cuter than others.
2. We have to begin the process of identifying who we want to be with next: Initially, it’s a bit like browsing for a house online, you are looking for the initial curb appeal. Again, these photos are some of the best this woman could find to represent who she wants you to see. Photos lie.
As we travel through this process, appraising, arranging, asking, flirting, explaining… we get a chance to refine our pitch and our wishlist. And once we get clarity on those non-negotiable traits that we must have in our next relationship, the task is much easier. Or, at least, clearer.
Now I have it. At this very moment, I believe that everything comes after my two main criteria. Warmth and Deep Feeling. Of course, there has got to be the curb appeal or I won’t even have a chance to say hello. (this cuts both ways) And, I believe my “enlightenment” comes from the realization that other traits are important (1. intelligence, 2. outward beauty, 3. self-awareness/spirituality) but without warmth and the ability to express it at a deep level, well, without that we have the path I am leaving behind.
Sincerely,
The Off Parent
related posts:
- Burn the Maps!
- Little Turnoffs: On a First Date with a Woman
- Aqua y besos: How Do We Gain So Much Energy from Love?
- The Sensual and the Sexual
- What’s the Worst That Could Happen?
resources:
- The Divorce Library (reading list)
- Songs of Divorce (free listening library – youtube sourced songs)
- Laugh It Off (building a resource library of funny videos and other diversions)
- Facebook (follow us on Facebook and keep up with all the conversations)
- The 5 Love Languages (a book on love styles by Gary Chapman)
This Father’s Day Is Better Than the Rest
I’m free.
There is nothing tying me to the past today. I have my kids (so it’s a damn good day) and I have my soul. I give thanks today for the recovery that has come at a price.
On my morning walk I wandered my mixed neighborhood. Into areas full of mobile homes trying to look like houses. Into yards so full of broken stuff, you wonder what the hold up is for calling the dumpsters. And in the middle of that crazy back yards is some dad, I saw him, tattoos glistening through the jungle of junk, working on something. Maybe he was planting something. He didn’t seem to be tinkering. He was focused and did not notice me passing by in awe of his rubble.
And I return to my funky gnome house (the kids named it) and can enjoy the satisfaction that comes with setting my agenda, 100%, today. It used to be that Father’s day “was the day” that I could do anything I wanted. Now it is every day.
Today I give thanks that I am free from the tyranny of chores and honey-doos. It’s not that there’s anything wrong with getting your shit done, but if it ALWAYS takes precedence over enjoying life, playing, and kicking back and dealing with the laundry tomorrow, well… Then perhaps I was in the wrong movie.
I’m not OCD. Perhaps I’m the opposite. DGF (doesn’t give a fuck). Much more organized and efficient with the trash can then the man from junk-villa, but not so concerned that every dish be put away before interesting myself in other pleasurable pursuits. Today some of those pleasurable things tend to be self-induced, and that’s okay. The woman who does finally arrive is going to be quite pleased with my attention to detail. Not in the cleanliness of the carpet, but more along the lines of tireless focus and energy. And then a NAP. TOGETHER. A tasty treat that became more and more rare in my marriage. And it’s too bad, naps are one of my favorite indulgences.
I recall the discussion with the ex-y at the start of every long weekend.
“So what are your ideas for the weekend?” she would ask, innocently enough.
After a while I simply didn’t care to play the game and I’d answer, “Make love to you, get in some good naps, and do whatever else comes to mind.”
She was infinitely disappointed with my answer. I saw it. So I’d knowingly ask, “So what about you?”
And what would be laid out is a list of chores, always involving my assistance and/or compliance. It never failed.
“What about snuggles and naps and making love?” I’d ask if I was feeling really irritated. Such a sad disconnect.
When we’d met again, after knowing each other in high school, I was pretty clear on my love of napping. And she was enamored with the sex that would often happen before, during, or after a good hour or so in bed, together. But somewhere along the way, the agenda outgrew the heart. She was more comfortable working things along a calendar and in spreadsheets.
Sometimes you don’t want to know exactly what it will cost to go to the beach for a spontaneous weekend. Sometimes you want the dishes and laundry to wait for your hunger and passion to be met. And then at some point you realize you are meeting those needs more often alone than with her. And you realize that if you don’t speak up your needs and desires will continue to be missed and lost and diminished.
I learned to “rise above it” when it came to disagreements and disappointments. But in some of the instances, this “elevated view” was more of a checking out of the relationship. I thought I was doing the WE a favor by not demanding intimacy. I was mistaken. What I was doing was allowing her patterns of distress and need for order and safety, overrun my needs for closeness and naps and long kisses.
I miss long kisses.
They will arrive again. And this time I won’t lose sight of how important they are to me.
Sincerely,
The Off Parent
permalink: https://theoffparent.com/this-fathers-day/
Nothing Left – A New and Welcome Emptiness Between Us
And tonight when the ex-y came by to pick up the kids, there was absolutely nothing between us. I was thrilled to be less than interested. We exchanged pleasantries and not a single shard of pain.
Maybe it’s the tattoo’d siren who is texting fragments of songs and dreams through out day. Maybe it’s a new plateau of healing. Maybe I’m writing into an understanding of her distant personality and how I could’ve seen the clues early on in our dating, had I wanted to see them.
I’m not giddy about the change, but I am looking forward to more “nothing.”
It’s funny, or synchronous, I’m reading a beautiful book by a beautiful woman who feels so deeply she harms herself.** And she’s brilliant. And feeling. And seriously fucked up. And the siren in my life is a fascinating cross of motherhood (she has 5 kids) and an exuberantly young soul who likes to start an evening in the late 10’s. And the inked plum blossoms across her shoulder are like a net, drawing in my imagination.
“Are you turned off by ink,” she asked in an early email.
I am imagining writing a new love song so happy it warrants new ink on her. She’s an intoxicant and she’s coming back this weekend. And that potential, for “what” is empowering. Where ever she fits in my next trajectory, she has provided escape velocity; an imaginative texter with an amazing smile and joie d’ vivre. The opposite of cool, the antithesis of distant.
Sincerely,
The Off Parent
image: emma forrest – **your voice in my head (amazon link)
Resources:
- The Divorce Library (reading list)
- Songs of Divorce (free listening library – youtube sourced songs)
- Laugh It Off (building a resource library of funny videos and other diversions)
- Facebook (follow us on Facebook and keep up with all the conversations)
- The 5 Love Languages (a book on love styles by Gary Chapman)
I See You – Losing that Loving Perspective
At some point in the relationship, my ex was no longer seeing me. She didn’t listen to the songs or poems I was writing. I was unable to reach her by asking for what I needed. She was gone in some fundamental way.
The most basic need I think we are all trying to fill is that of being seen. Being embraced for who we are, for accomplishing or failing at our ambitions, for our good deeds and our strengths. When two people begin the courting process, we are trying to see ourselves reflected in the other’s love for us.
A whole bunch of the courtship is our own projection and song of desire we are projecting on other person. We are self-creating the fantasy of who this “lover” is and all the ways they complete us. A feeling of fulfillment, the fulfillment of some long unmet needs, all being showered down upon us in the radiant attention of someone else’s love. And then there is the rest of life.
I sing the song of myself all the time. I project a wonderful life story on the woman who speeds past me in the black Audi with bike racks. I plug in my projection of who she is and how she will be amazed at the new song I have written her. And I’m sure at one point, my ex-y, pre-kids, pre-major-adult-responsibilities, saw me.
My mom has a picture of me at that time. My girlfriend-at-that-point-in-time and I had gotten a Boston Terrier together. In the picture I am holding the tiny dog and looking pretty pleased with my life. It was the only time in my life that I had shoulder-length hair. This is who my ex-y saw and crawled into life with. This younger me, with long hair, and ambitions to “make it” as a musician. And she was an artist too. We were artists.
As time progressed the real world set in and our first child brought more realness than we’d imagined. She took time off from work, I was self-employed and working in the garage of the new house, in the dream neighborhood, that we’d purchased for the kids. “For the kids.” Okay, it was for us too. There was a part of it, dream fulfilled, that we had moved into a sweet neighborhood with sweet schools and a sweet tennis/swim club just down the hill. It was a sweet moment.
Things got more and more real. I had to provide financially on a different level than I had ever had to before. We were happy in our little dream and we were working hard to keep it warm and fun. And of course we had the baby boy. The amazing baby boy.
And I recall the exact moment our second child was conceived. We both did. It was a mid-May afternoon, the weather was just moving from crisp to hot and my then wife, came home from her part-time work, and she was standing in the opening of the garage door, in her professional attire, looking like the very hot woman I had fallen head over heals in love with. The baby was inside asleep. It was a perfect moment. We made sweaty hot love with her on top of me, mostly still clothed, sitting in the chair at my desk. We both enjoyed it. An ecstatic moment.
Already, we were conscious of wanting another child. The baby had been so fantastic. And wouldn’t it be amazing if we could have a girl too.
This time the pleasant valley road didn’t go so smoothly. After our first proud sonogram at the regular ob/gyn’s office, we were given pictures of our baby girl [YAY] and the number for a pre-natal specialist. A few of the numbers were off.
Way the fuck off. And thus began the roughest moments in my life. Our daughter had a rare disorder, a blood incompatibility with my wife’s blood. The weekly doctor’s visits, with their go-nogo diagnostics were almost unbearable. But what do you do? You can only bear it. There is no RESET button. You can’t go somewhere else and hope things get better.
Our son was amazing. Our nanny was amazing. Our doctor and our pre-natalogist was amazing. It was all fucking amazing and terrifying.
And about this time, the twin towers were taken out and all of our lives, the entire planet, were stopped and changed. But the doctor’s visits still had to go on. And even though each of my consulting clients froze every cent of my income overnight, I had to press on with “what’s next.”
Neither of us knew what was next. But it was probably during this period in our lives that we began to lose track of each other. My spiral into despair and struggle was not a pretty one. And she soldiered on. She was amazing. I tried to keep telling her that without sounding desperate. I tried to be strong, and I guess I was, but everything was kitty-wampus and upside down. We do what you do. We pressed onward. We fought to keep our daughter, we blessed my wife’s part-time employer insurance that covered the entire 6 months of pre-natal care. We hovered around our son and each other. And we pressed on. And maybe we broke.
Our daughter was born healthy and feisty one mid-morning in November. And she was a miracle. The blood issues that might have been present didn’t show up on any of the monitoring machines. We had made it through the dark. We were through the initial shock of it all [birth, 2nd kid, 9-11] and turning the corner into the next stretch and headlong into some very dark woods indeed.
The very real work of having a family, working to keep a house and keep our sanity during such a trying time led to some pretty serious consequences. I will admit to having some sort of nervous mid-life break down. Somewhere in my fears my brain had decided it was no longer a productive part of my body. So we, my wife and I, were both in deep reality-bites mode and moving quickly into WTF mode.
My recovery was not easy. And the toll was paid on my wife, my son, and my new daughter. And the toll was taken on my life expectancy, as I continued to struggle for what I wanted to do now that my business had been blown up by 911. And the bills, mortgage, and doctor appointments never slowed down. It’s like my life had taken a stall, but the rest of reality kept barreling right along.
But as I recovered parts of my spirit, as my trusting and happy self re-emerged there was a long distance between my wife and I. We’d both been through hell. She had stayed sane and dealt with it. And I had exited in some psychological way and left her with all the work. [That’s not quite true, it’s not like I left or died or anything, but my 110% self was tucked away somewhere deep.]
And so in trying to make it forward we stopped listening to each other. We tried, but the noise the fear and the pain was too loud. And we struggled on. We both stuck it out. What choice did we have? Divorce? It wasn’t in my vocabulary. Depression. That one was familiar, unfortunately.
And our little unit survived. Scarred and weary, but we survived. And when the joy began to return, the true gut busting joy, I started feeling and acting on the hopefulness I felt. I’m imagining my ex-y never got back to that joyful trust again. She did not respond to my affections in the same way. She wasn’t supportive of the music I was creating as part of my recovery. I’m pretty sure she only listened to them when I sat with her and made her see me and hear me.
I was looking for something like a healing between us. I was expressing my ouch and my yay. She was not listening. She must have been listening to some other internal voice of her own. And the warnings and trouble overwhelmed the positive memories. Perhaps she never trusted me, or allowed the feelings of love to come between us, again. (Sad.)
We want to be seen. More than anything in the world we want to just be seen for what we are and what we have accomplished. I tried to thank her for her support and celebrate our rebirth. I sang to my kids. I sang to others. But she had lost the taste for my voice. And perhaps it was over for her, long before it was expressed as a desire for divorce. I kept singing. I kept writing poems. I kept playing and enjoying our kids. And she continued to maintain and increase her distance from me. Perhaps even from them, in some guarded way.
I writhed a bit. Our last Valentine’s Day as a married couple was a complete miss. I posted a geeky love poem on my blog. I was sure she would see it. She was working in Search Engine Optimization, so I SEO’d the post with her name and my name, thinking that might get caught in her filter. She did not see it. I kept it as a secret not as a trick, but as a way to surprise the heck out of her when she “discovered” my love poem.
I followed through on Valentine’s Day morning by letting her sleep in while I made pancakes and entertained the kids. [That this had become more and more of a pattern, might have been a clue as to her state of mind, but I was happy to give her some extra rest.] When she woke, I made her some coffee and breakfast. And I had a gift and a card for her. The kids had cards for her as well.
Her Valentine gift to me was a bit odd. She gave the me book of The Fighter. And her card said something about me being on FIRE and her like ICE. She was saying something about how our opposites were still good together. But I don’t think she meant it. I was more confused than encouraged. I wanted to understand the hint, but I couldn’t get past the pugilistic book. How that exemplified her love for me, was unclear.
I was still writing love letters and she was giving me a book about a boxer. Clearly we were not hearing or seeing each other with the same hearts that brought us together, eleven years earlier.
Sincerely,
The Off Parent
@theoffparent
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image: down left up, jane rahman, creative commons usage
She Was Certain Her Anger Was About Me
I was pleading for her to get a grip, it was nearly the end, the kids would soon be out of school and I’d be out of the house. “You think I’m going to walk out the door of the house and you’re suddenly going to be happy? Maybe what you are so mad about isn’t just me.”
She’d been mad for over a year. And the “Fuck You” exclamations had begun to seep into our daily lives. I woke up each day with the determination to make things better, to work harder, to be more consistent, to offer help, love, and support at every opportunity. She woke up mad. I failed at my tasks too.
And when the word “cynicism” came out at couples therapy I felt like we’d landed at the crux of the problem. Somewhere deep inside, she had decided this is how it was always going to be, this therapy is nice but it’s not helping, and I’m just fkin pissed to be going to “therapy” yet again.
“It’s not getting better,” she said that afternoon before we got out of the car.
“You really believe that?”
I could tell that she did before she said anything. When she brought out the C-word in therapy I heard the impossibility of my task should I choose to take it on. You can’t argue with cynicism, you can’t rationalize with it, you can’t even really get pissed at it, because the hands are already up in disgust. The joking moment, became cause for a sideways, “Fuck you,” and a quick apology.
She wasn’t getting any less mad, that was clear. And I wasn’t coming any closer to changing her mind. I don’t guess I ever really changed her at all.
In those moments when she’d had a glass of wine some barrier came down and she would be touched for a moment. She would cry and lament and talk about how she might not be right for me. I would cry back at her with reassurance. And some sort of relief came in those moments, because I was sure this time the heart would stay unstuck, the feelings would continue to penetrate the facade. But that was my own folly.
I needed her to stay in that feeling place and comfort the parts of me that were hurting. I needed a warm shoulder. We needed closeness. And sometimes we reached that place.
Sincerely,
The Off Parent
Resources:
- The Divorce Library (reading list)
- Songs of Divorce (free listening library – youtube sourced songs)
- Laugh It Off (building a resource library of funny videos and other diversions)
- Facebook (follow us on Facebook and keep up with all the conversations)
- The 5 Love Languages (a book on love styles by Gary Chapman)
The Monday Morning Drop Off and The Longing of the Off Parent
My daughter saw this picture and headline above on my posterous site. “I know what that means,” she said. I laughed. “What does it mean?” At 9, she has been sharing more of her understanding of the world. “It means, for now. Eventually you will park on the side when you’re making room for a girlfriend.”
This post was written as a response to a reader’s comment. You can see the entire dialogue in the comments of this post: Putting Your Foot (Fool) Out There – Online Dating in Perspective
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Wow, H. You seem to have started a wonderful dialogue with yourself (and me) as a result of posting on The Off Parent. I salute you. And welcome the interaction. Here’s the crux (for me) of what you said:
“And then soon, I forgot the ‘longing’ of wanting something/someone else. My life as it is today, perfect, with my children, as they are my family now….Just like your happiest hours on Thursday nights (forgive if I got your name for it incorrect)…well, that is my life, every day and night.”
I appreciate the Happier hour of Thursdays. And I feel the tweak of my happiness every Friday morning as I drop them back at school. On the weekends when they will return to me Friday afternoon I have a nice routine, I finish my work around 3pm and I take the rest of the afternoon off, after I pick them up at 3:30.
This is such a weekend. Full. Complete. Completed. I do understand your fullness. When we are together there is nothing missing. We are a family as I envisioned it. Except of course, their mom. But of course things are MUCH easier without her, for us. There is not one single argument about cleaning the house, about chores (we have them, yes) about what we’re going to do on Saturday. This core unit has a connected and free form flow that probably drove my ex crazy. She much preferred the work plan model.
The longing for me, takes place, as it will tomorrow, when I drop them back at school on a Monday, after our full family weekend. It is that morning, as I pull away from school that I feel an ache.
Why did I, how did I end up in this “missing” place? It is a familiar feeling, but I no longer welcome it. I acknowledge the ache. And I can understand my past history that is riddled with so many “missing” moments. And for today, I move away from that HURT as I drive away from their school and them.
It is THAT longing that holds the key to me for what I am missing in the rest of my life. I DO want to be in a relationship. While I get so much joy and fulfillment out of simply being DAD, I am hungry for a companion. That longing that you have learned to forget just might be a key to the relationship you want as well. It’s easier to keep driving away from their school and the ache and just carry on.
Later in the day your THREE return to you and you are full up in the activity of FAM again. Mine do not return to my fold until the next Thursday evening. And this coming Thursday, that glimpse, that ONE NIGHT and MORNING, is all I will have of them for the entire week. And the rest of the time I am what I call, The Off Parent. Both physically (they are not with me) and mentally I am OFF.
I love having entire weekends to plan activities alone. Time and options I never had while married. But I also wish it were not so. I was content wrapped in the everyday details of being Dad. Now I don’t have that luxury. Perhaps I am pushed out to learn more about myself, my needs, my next plan or dream. Certainly, that’s what’s happening. But the reality is I LONG FOR MY KIDS when they are not here. And to a lesser extent, I can feel that I LONG FOR A RELATIONSHIP again.
There is no real reason to put up with red flags the new experimental relationships. What’s the point? If there are too many fouls, you pick up and move along.
So, H, perhaps you will find the longing in something as mundane as a painful shoulder that needs a strong and warm hand to knead and rub it. For now, you can put heating gel on it, or ask one of your kids to beat it for you. (that’s what I do.) But if you can listen to the ache, only if you want to, you might find the energy behind the longing. And at this point in my life, I am finding that ache-to-energy to be quite powerful and quite transformative.
I am becoming someone else. I am expressing all sides of the joy and pain, here on The Off Parent. I am leaving all of my grievances behind. And when they show up I’m putting them to rest by journaling them here.
I am excited that you have found the reason, the energy, to post such a reflective comment here. I hope you continue. A dialogue is forming between us. Another wonderful and interesting development from writing this down. The hard stuff and the good stuff. The dark sex stuff and the vulnerable stuff.
Thank you for joining in the dance with me.
Sincerely,
The Off Parent
Resources:
- The Divorce Library (reading list)
- Songs of Divorce (free listening library – youtube sourced songs)
- Laugh It Off (building a resource library of funny videos and other diversions)
- Facebook (follow us on Facebook and keep up with all the conversations)
- The 5 Love Languages (a book on love styles by Gary Chapman)
Folding Her Clothes and Folding My Desire
I loved folding her clothes in the laundry. There was something cool about the jeans that were on such a different scale than mine. I could only imagine her beautiful legs and feet and toes as I origami-ed them into a warm fortune cookie.
The first time I remember looking into her eyes during love making and finding her bored was a year or so after my vasectomy. I was astonished. It was like looking back into my high school or college years and seeing the ho hum partner in a ho hum state of repose. I was flattened. I stopped. I didn’t want to continue in that relationship.
“Where’d you go? I wanted to ask. But I didn’t. And thus began my own folding. The more I desired her, and the more she desired less, the more I folded inward, and sublimated my physical desire for her with mental desires, masterbation, and fantasy.
I learned, I think I learned, I am learning, that it was a fatal flaw of my own, to cloak my own disappointment and unmet desire in a Buddhist repose. Yeah, I was above it all. Above the fray of the mundane arguments, above the loss of all sexual openings from the woman I was still madly and passionately in love with. I learned to go into my head. To believe that this was okay, this situation was temporary, things would eventually get better if I meditated, masterbated, and remained consistant in my love and presence.
I was wrong. I, in some ways, let her off the hook. When she was bored, and she had already had her orgasm, I should’ve asked. I probed a little, but was content to “wait” and “see” and be the master of my own desires. FUCK. What I was doing was removing the PASSION from myself as well.
I’m a bit stuck in that mode at this very moment. I talk about sex not being the goal. And while I believe that’s true, I also believe I deserve a willing and excitable sex partner. I am willing to be honest and open with my feelings, and in order to not lose sight of what those are again, I have to be willing to express my needs and also my disappointments.
So my wife was bored. My drive for my own passion, in that moment, evaporated in a flash. We’d had the “I guess I’m not going to orgasm” moments. And we’d laughed and talked through many awkward requests and challenges.
And she was B O R E D.
What I won’t settle for next is complacence. My hand is a happy host, but my heart has bigger needs. I won’t let those go unspoken ever again.
Honestly, I don’t think that moment, or my confrontation of the situation would’ve changed our trajectory. But the gradual acceptance and detachment from that loss that became more and more pronounced, that is what killed my marriage. She happened to check out a lot earlier than I did. But in some ways, I let her go, thinking that I would pick up the connection when things settled down a bit, when there was a little more money in the bank, when the kids were both in school.
NOW is it. I won’t become the fat buddha again. The belly that I work off is the isolation that I had agreed to. Do I have to be perfectly fit to find another relationship. No. But I do need to love and understand my own body, so that I can tune into the desires I have. And I have to express them so that I can learn and explore the fit with any relationship I attempt in the future.
The bored girl sophomore year in college was no big deal. Neither of us knew what to expect. My bored wife should’ve been real cause for alarm and awakening. Instead I slept and stayed up late cuddling with the internet. Computers and videos make terrible lovers.
Sincerely,
The Off Parent
Resources:
- The Divorce Library (reading list)
- Songs of Divorce (free listening library – youtube sourced songs)
- Laugh It Off (building a resource library of funny videos and other diversions)
- Facebook (follow us on Facebook and keep up with all the conversations)
- The 5 Love Languages (a book on love styles by Gary Chapman)
Why Blog About This? What’s The Point?
Two summers ago, my ex-y was hipped to this blog. She called on the phone.
“I saw The Off Parent.”
“Okay.”
“And as a parent, trying to trust you, I want you to take it down.”
“You’re right,” I said. It was a very low point for me. “I’ll take it down right now. I’m sorry.”
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And then something happened a few weeks ago. I was thinking about a post, I was angry with my ex-y (go figure) and I wanted to write about it. I remembered how my depression returned with a vengeance right after the conversation above. “What was the point?” I asked myself.
And as I was walking across the parking lot of the local grocery store, I said, “When my kids are grown up, I want them to know the truth. I want them to understand what I was going through.”
The point being, my kids are on the internet. They are not searching for me or my blogs. And this blog, The Off Parent, would be hard to trace back to me. You can do it. There are some threads. If you really wanted to.
BUT why would my kids be searching for a blog about divorce? Um, unless they are searching for a blog about divorce. (Good point.)
My friend said to me, “Do you think Bob Dylan’s kids have heard Idiot Wind?”
So this is not for them, this is not for you. This is for me. I am attempting to share the truth, and release the bitterness and sadness, so that I can heal and move on.
This is also a document that will be revealed. I’m sure it’s my ex-y’s worst nightmare. Well, sorry, hon, it’s up for keeps this time. Oh, and it’s not for you, either.
Sincerely,
The Off Parent
< back to The Hard Stuff pages
Info Source: Sara Dylan on Wikipedia
Resources:
- The Divorce Library (reading list)
- Songs of Divorce (free listening library – youtube sourced songs)
- Laugh It Off (building a resource library of funny videos and other diversions)
- Facebook (follow us on Facebook and keep up with all the conversations)
- The 5 Love Languages (a book on love styles by Gary Chapman)
perhaps you were a cat from another country
[from The Black Pages – poetry]
listen to this poem (mp3 file)
the cat’s tail rubbing across my leg as he heads back into the new house
somewhere I picked that habit up myself, stroke, pat, brush, touch
perhaps you were a cat from another country, where casual touch led to violence
maybe it was fear, or even an unknowing of yourself and the things that made you happy
touching is reconnecting
a happy touch is fulfilling in itself
oh, my cat buries his entire body in my chest, like a small writhing fur coat
and i too have the capacity for emersion and merging, we know it when we feel it
perhaps you had been hurt before, and maybe even I did things that closed you more
now the cat and I exchange love, a cat you’ll never know
thanks for the kids, you’re a proud mom, and you are a great mom
and my incessant need for connection will be met elsewhere
The Off Parent
4-30-11
permalink: https://theoffparent.com/cat-from-another-country/
A Once and Future King
The loss of my kingdom. I don’t think it’s a particularly man thing, imagining your house and neighborhood as a kingdom. I think we all feel a sense of protection and pride around our homesteads. We invest a lot of time and energy in providing a comfortable existence for ourselves and our families.
It is not a happy thing to be exiled from your kingdom. Everything that goes with it. Kids, pets, comfortable bed, study areas, entertainment, warmth, yards, play. Everything comes to an end.
What once was a WE provide is now a ME provide. And I have not been so lucky in terms of the next chapter in my working life. I’ve made money. I’ve worked. But I am essentially homeless at the moment. Being shut out of my house meant that I could either afford a completely new residence in our neighborhood, OR… leave.
The blessing is that I have a sister in the city who has a mother-in-law plan that was available. And I even had built in kids, with her twin boy and girl who are 12 years old. And for that I am glad.
But I have no privacy. The TV is a constant irritation, as the largest one sits directly on the other side of my bedroom door. And of course, 90% of my stuff is still in my ex-wife’s house. I don’t have a place to put it. And I get to be thankful that she’s not insisting that I get a storage unit.
I know that I will return to a kingdom of my own. And I will make a way again in the world of empowered work, but for now it is difficult. As the Fall is now moving in and the weather is changing I long for a place to relax and be alone. And an opportunity to begin the rebuilding process.
Sincerely,
The Off Parent
Resources:
- The Divorce Library (reading list)
- Songs of Divorce (free listening library – youtube sourced songs)
- Laugh It Off (building a resource library of funny videos and other diversions)
- Facebook (follow us on Facebook and keep up with all the conversations)
Dialing In My Ideals In a Woman: From Hippie to High Class
I was having coffee with a friend of mine at an upscale place last week and we both acknowledged several of the beautiful women who passed through while we were meeting.
“I really like Whole Foods Market for people watching,” I said.
“They’re too hippie for me,” he said.
Wow, it was a major difference that got me thinking. What was the criteria I was hoping for when hoping for my next female companion?
She probably shops at Whole Foods more than Costco.
She’s comfortable in flipflops and high heels and appreciates the difference.
She drives a foreign car built within the last 6 years.
She has kids.
She’s divorced.
She is naturally attractive, with or without makeup. Conscious of the aging process and happy to acknowledge the changes, not afraid of them.
And so today, as I was walking around Whole Foods I noticed a lot of women that caught my eye. (My sister was very much a hippie.) Much more so than the women moving through the fancy coffee bar. But one other recent statistic I heard about came to mind about income level. The gist was something about your income level is directly related to the closest 5 people around you. Meaning, you hang with people that make about the same amount of money.
With that, there is no telling what these whimsical organically-minded women are making, or the model of car they are driving. But, for me, they are starting with a core concept for me. They are more concerned with fair trade than the lowest possible price. They have some intentions around eating healthy and go to the trouble to make that happen. They tend towards essential oil fragrances over new scent from the latest designer at Nordstroms.
Sincerely,
The Off Parent
< back to On Dating Again index
Resources:
- The Divorce Library (reading list)
- Songs of Divorce (free listening library – youtube sourced songs)
- Laugh It Off (building a resource library of funny videos and other diversions)
- Facebook (follow us on Facebook and keep up with all the conversations)
- The 5 Love Languages (a book on love styles by Gary Chapman)
