dating

When Manifesting Your Soulmate Doesn’t Work Out…

I’m having a really sad day, friends. My heart is broken completely.
Two years ago I completed the workbook, Calling in the One: 7 Weeks to Attract the Love of Your Life. And y’know what? It worked.

I met my him at a holiday work event for the industry I work in. He came over to me and said my name so profoundly, like he meant it. I looked at him, leaned in to see his nametag and I said his in return. Then I looked up in his eye and felt like I got punched in the chest.
I walked away.
I didn’t know what that meant. What was that feeling in my heart?

My intuition is spot on, all the time. This was big. He was someone important for me, for sure.

After a brief chat with some people i knew, I got the courage to go back and start a conversation with him. I complimented his pants. He’s an impeccable dresser. We exchanged laughs and a whole lot of knowledge. And business cards.
A few days later I get an email from him, asking if I would like to get together and see what else we might be able to talk about other then the correct pronunciation of my hometown.
He is also very, very witty.

Shoot forward a couple of weeks and our first date was a blast! He picked me up at 7 for dinner and I think we stayed out 3am! We had great dinner, conversation, we ended up at a bar kissing to Prince. The staff talked to us like they thought we’d been together a long time.
We just fit.

Well, what was the happiest, most joyful, fulfilling, truly loving and caring relationship I had ever experienced changed shortly after he got a new job contract. And it was big. I was happy for him, truly. But time became scarce. Attention even less. Slowly our dream-like love began to dissipate.
I remember one day last June or July, looking forward to spending the day together and being shocked when all he wanted to do was watch his favorite TV show, that I’d never seen, and he didn’t care whether I wanted to watch it or not. Or even if I hung around to watch it with him.

Some folks say that people never change.
People change man. They do.

Though, I could also ask, “Was this a change in him? Or is this just also who is and how he occurs sometimes?” I think both could be true.

It didn’t take long for me to end our relationship the first time. He clearly just stopped doing all the things that love does.

“You’ve gotta learn to leave the table when love’s no longer being served” Nina Simone

get up love no longer being served.jpg

Today, one year later and after a years' worth of "still trying," I am still heartbroken. But I have learned so much. I don’t believe I ever ever loved anyone as hard, as enduringly, as deeply as him. And maybe I will again. Maybe I won’t.
But the thing about soulmates is that they are people too. You may meet yours and they may not want the same thing as you.

Funny, how it never occurred to me that I really could Call In the One
And he may not want to be with me. 
Not everyone wants their soulmate.

I still do. But I will still date and find love, regardless.
A love that doesn’t leave the table.

About an hour ago I went to a local cafe and bought a huge piece of German Chocolate Cake, which i wholly plan to demolish later this evening.
I shared with the young man behind the counter that I was heartbroken and said to me,

“I know your heart hurts. But there is one part of your heart that doesn’t hurt. Focus on that part.”

Oh, how I love West End, Atlanta.
I will friend, I most definitely will.

15/30 - Small Cups

I will not regret this.

Your eyes twinge with worry every now and then
a hesitance, a distant
Reeling back like a dragon before it burns the entire village, I know
you won't stay.

and I won't burn.
Besides, the fire is in it's place, not your lungs.

 

Yours is the simplest house I've known, I
love that.
Few pots or pans, glassware, tiny
cups that are actually shot
glasses, but you call them 'small cups' and
I guess they are
So we sip from them, slow.
You, usually faster than me, but still slow
and we make poems about bicycles on the backs of steel plates
made in the USA.

I know you won't stay.
Have yet to delude myself and have zero plans
from here on out

Which is a freeing thing:  to know this isn't forever.
That we are not bound by the burden to build something here.
I won't get mad if you don't call every night, forget that I hate pepper,
or speak about your future like I'm not there.
I don't expect to be. Not much, at the very most...

I have spoken about futures
before
with men
as if they were in it. Believed
they'd be in it, felt that strong dream of love pull
my soul from my mouth so easy
like soft clouds over a lazy, blue sky
and y'know what?
They're not. 

If anything, this is the most honest place I have been.

I know it's not forever
But if we're honest, nothing is.

This morning a woman who invited herself on my porch to ring my bell and shake me out of bed
Asked if I ever thought about what Heaven would be like.
Typically, I think this is a foolish thought to spend any time with
because if there is one (and save for a few asshole moves here or there, I would be lucky enough to experience it)
Then I will know it when I arrive.
And if there isn't
my afterlife will be nonetheless without.

This might be the easiest place I've been since I lost my best friend.
Who is in Heaven, if there is one.

So I may see him down the line
but some other kind of Heaven still exists in the now
in the not asking questions, taking stock of what we've both brought
of who's doing the leaving and when
a kind of Heaven in the limbs of your body aligned with mine

And so if that's all the Heaven there is
Then I'm honestly pretty okay
with that.

13/30 - Dudes are Dumb (a short story)

I come home from work, get out of my car and go to check my mail and as I'm walking my neighbor's dumba** friend says, "You know I'm too old to be having a crush" - which I barely hear because it doesn't totally resonate that he might be talkin to me.
I arrive at said mailbox, take out my mail, see it's all wack sh*t and dude repeats, this time louder and walking my way, 
"You know I'm too old to be havin a crush now!" 
("pfffttt!!" I think) And I mumble, "oh," kinda wit an attitude cuz like, who the F cares...
but fr fr my dude. Y'know, YOU PROLLY RIGHT! You probably ARE too old to be havin a crush. So what now? Am I now supposed to be interested in you after your confession of clear and obvious immaturity? Am I supposed to feel bad for you like, "ohhhh, you got a crush on me" which happened in all of like: 15 seconds. Am I supposed to then proceed to massage your weak AF male ego? Cuz I guess the heteronormative patriarchy might dictate that I, a young and highly capable woman, must have so much compassion for your weakness and your vulnerability that I immediately run up to you and rub your back to make you feel better cuz you got a crush. Poor you.
Maaaannnnnn.... Miss me wit ALL THAT.
I'm just tryna get the mail ova here.

How I'm Not Actually Hating Dating Right Now

Dating sucks in the U.S. I'm sure it sucks elsewhere too but I have no experience with that. 
I've written 1000 times about how much I hate it so no need to continue the long list of reasons here and recreate the diatribe
(you can scroll through previous posts or click the tag-thingy on "dating is stupid" if you really wanna see, yeah? Word.)

So here's how I'm all of a sudden NOT hating dating:  I think I'm finally doing it right.

But let me unpack that first before some of you get all judge-y like, "well what WERE you doing" type ish...

There are some very common, widespread and sometimes seemingly unbreakable/unbendable social conventions. I think how we date seems to be one of those, or has seemed to be that way to me at least. (Keeping in mind: woman, patriarchy, specific gender norms, etc...) 

The way I've dated or participated in this weird process so far has included, y'know, a dude sayin' he likes me, or I like him - largely before either of us knew anything about the other, right? Which means it's really just an expression of physical attraction, maybe energetic attraction, but that's it. So once that's established begins the text messages, phone calls, actual dates where you go spend time together doing something. Hopefully something cool. In my experience, a dude who does not try and kiss me by the 2nd or 3rd date has been an anomaly. Some try on the first. Sometimes i've let them, sometimes I haven't. But overall I've kinda just went along with this approach. I never really tried to date differently. Seemingly caught under some blind acceptance, that I think I was largely unaware of, that 'this is just how it's done.'

In essence, I never really questioned it much. Not the process, the ways of men, the social mores, the expectations I often felt pressured by to be a certain way, (i.e. "ladylike" or overall agreeable), to do certain "ladylike" things, etc. I did begin to push back against a lot of that roughly 5ish years ago when I had a personal revolution. (Yay Me.) But I never revisited the dating process or tried to qualitatively change the way I date. Or even develop a way that I could date that made more sense and felt better to me. 

I was still learning. Still am...

But in all,  I'll say in short:  Right now I am dating a little. Having enjoyed the company of a specific gentleman on 6 or 7 or 8 occasions.
He has yet to try and kiss me.
I have never genuinely loved dating so much as I do right now.

:)

The end. 

...At It Again

Originally penned/published:  Dec 12, 2015

 

I’m not really sure what this is going to be about, so I’m just gonna write.

Actually, that’s bullshit. I know very well what this is about. It’s been on my mind all day…

 


Y’know I only write when I’m single. And I’m horrible at transitions. Both in writing and in life. Bear with me…

If I cannot write in a relationship then I think I don’t ever really need to be in one. Because this is the best place for me. I feel alive.

I have been reflecting on being ‘newly single’ again… well, I dunno how new it is actually, it’s been about 6 months but I’m new back to dating again and whatnot. I still think dating is stupid. But that’s not what this post is about.

This is about inspiration. Pursuit. About a soul on fire.

See, I think that’s the best place to be:  On fire.

Not literally, of course, but spiritually, emotionally, energetically

I wrote this earlier:

“Go with the one that excites the f*ck out of you.

Go now.

Go often.

And maybe you don’t stay forever.

But stay as long as that fire in you keeps burning…”

I guess this is where I am now:  burning.

Aflame.

It’s an exciting place to be.

And honestly, I don’t have any desire to be anywhere else.

“Go with the one that excited the f*ck out of you”

I have.

And “stay as long as that fire keeps burning”

I will.

The traditional relationship is not the place for me.

I’m still burning…

 

To Uncover Other Stories of Coerced Sex in Relationships…

Originally penned/published: September 19, 2013

 

If there’s a book that you want to read, but it hasn’t been written yet, then you must write it.” ― Toni Morrison.

Same goes for stories. Or poems. Anything really…

 

So I saw this article a few minutes ago on Sociological Images:

 http://thesocietypages.org/socimages/2013/09/17/from-the-mouths-of-rapists-the-lyrics-of-robin-thickes-blurred-lines-and-real-life-rape/

It’s about this Robin Thicke song , Blurred Boundaries,(which I have never heard. I reside underneath the pop-culture rock) and how the lyrics of this song are some of the very things rapists say to their victims just before they attack.

I was about to leave work in a few minutes so I didn’t really read the article. Just the sentences in the photographs.

I wanted to see if they resonated.

See… they’re painting this song to be about the blurred boundary between consensual sex and assault… though most of the sentences sound like pre-assault ones to me. I see no blurry-ness there.

So what am I writing for?

I had an experience once. With an ex-boyfriend of mine.  Who was my boyfriend at the time.

I have since referred to this experience as rape – followed by hesitation, uncertainty – but I have ultimately held that even though I didn’t want to have sex and I SAID I didn’t want to have sex, that because I didn’t fight hard enough, it must not have been rape.

And maybe that’s true. Maybe it isn’t.

Regardless, my point here isn’t to define or label. It’s simply to express.

I want to see an article about this. About giving in to unwanted sex within a partnership. About coercion. About feeling like you can’t say “no” or feeling that you “owe” them access to your body – and about how fucked up that is.

About abuse.

 

Hmmmm….. I haven’t written here in a while and this is a hell of a first post from a very long absence.

But it’s real.

There hasn’t been much that’s inspired me to write. Or, no, that’s not true.

There hasn’t been much that I felt I NEEDED to write. That I was COMPELLED to.

Compulsion.

But this is one of those things.

 

And so his last sentence to me was, “I need to believe that you’re mine again”

… we had been slipping apart… this was apparently his way of trying to keep me, his

And my sentence was silence.

And gripped sheets.

That’s a pretty shitty sentence.

I mean, mine can’t be scrawled on a poster to hold in front of my chest for people to read … I can make no visual display of my words… But if there was a picture from that moment… It’d be worth more than 1,000 words.

You would see the entire story.

I know this.

 

And so, I suppose I go looking now, for articles online to read about women and coerced sex in relationships. 
I suppose I go looking for the other stories for my story to mingle with.

To not feel like the odd-one-out

I suppose I go looking for a community of stories to shush the quiet tears of regret

For a community of “I never thought of myself as a victim of abuse”

And though I don’t feel weak

I know there are scars.

Plenty.

 

There are days where I think I am healed….

How funny…

How whimsical…

Peace.

It's Not That Difficult, You're Just Doing It Wrong

Originally penned/published:  April 29, 2013

It is not a lack of love, but a lack of friendship that makes unhappy marriages.
Friedrich Nietzsche

I’ll begin with a bit of dialogue between myself and a colleague on Friday:

“Marriage is difficult.”

I nod my head, “So I hear.”

“No, it’s really, REALLY DIFFICULT.”

Nod head some more, “Okay.”

I have never been married. Fair enough. But I have a very close example in my life of two people who are married and who are gloriously happy. Granted, it’s not perfect. Nothing ever is. It is not a dream-sequence. But its good, damnit. REALLY good. And I’m sure it took work. Still TAKES work. But growing takes work. And I definitely know all about that.

My concern here was the tone in his voice and the persistence in his speech. Yeah, I get it. Marriage is hard. So I’ve heard. Yep. But we all know that. You knew that going in! Anyway, he proceeds to tell me about his schedule. How he used to travel twice a month and since he’s been married (which, I believe is somewhere between 9-12 months) he’s only been away twice. I, personally, think that’s striking and I wonder why he hasn’t been away more.

He continues with, “It takes compromise. Sacrifice”

I nod. I know this.

But he says these like they’re REALLY SERIOUS things. Like… like maybe he’s compromising or sacrificing too much. Perhaps he is? I think about the travel. Sure, I imagine when one marries they may need to make changes. You lose a little bit of the freedom you once had. And especially when there’s a child involved. But, generally speaking, I think as individuals we ought to watch HOW MUCH we compromise and what things. There are some things you must maintain for your sanity. Emotional health. For your overall well-being. Those things, I would argue, are not really compromise-able. A healthy and happy Joe Black, single, is better than an unstable, overworked, exhausted, and stressed-beyond-belief Joe Black, married.

I would also argue that we’ve gotta watch out for our people. Our friends, family, and most definitely lovers or partners, to ensure that they’re still healthy post-whatever life changes they’ve made. Sometimes we don’t realize we’re unhappy until we’re already there. But as friends, family members, and yes, even as someone’s lover or partner, we can realize when they’re not happy. And we have to have the confidence and the trust and the better judgement, and damnit, the maturity to share our observations. And then the willingness to RE-compromise, renegotiate really, if things aren’t working well for both parties. And be okay with it. Use it as a growth opportunity.

Growing is good. It hurts. But it’s good.

You cannot compromise the things you love. They must be incorporated.

 

And sooooooo you all know how I feel about dating. I think it’s f*cking stupid. At least the typical American style of dating.

It’s dumb. Really. No, no really. It’s really, really dumb.

lol

And here’s why. It’s because it has “roles.” And people actually subscribe to that and then become them, own them… I mean, are we in a play now? Is this a movie? You = doorholder/payer (sometimes) and your role is to impress me. Be kind, seem strong, give the impression that you’re financially stable or perhaps “well-off” if you so feel. You should be reasonable and even tempered…

And then here’s me: I’m sweet. Docile. I wear a dress. I let you open doors. I am agreeable, supportive, pretty….

Ugh.

Have you ever heard of anything SO BORING????

Are we supposed to just pretend like we’d be the perfect wife or husband??? Give me a break. No wonder why there’s this “honeymoon period” in so many American relationships. BECAUSE EVERYONE’S PRETENDING!!!

F*ck that.

So why am I bringing this up again?

So I recently started “seeing someone” – you could say – orrrrr however you wanna say that. It’s new, there is no title, but we shared that we’re not seeing anyone else… and so yeah. And I kinda don’t want to see anyone else. At least not at this time.

So anyway… so yesterday a friend texted me to see if I wanted to go to brunch. Or, at least I thought he was a friend. I replied that I would love to (I love going to brunch btw) but I was cooking brunch for someone already. Then I followed with the whole I’m-seeing-someone-now-so-any-future-outings-must-be-strictly-platonic…. And honestly… I liked this person. And previous outings hadn’t really been overly non-platonic. I think we kissed once. When we were drunk. Lol. But I was hoping for a strictly platonic future outing. I value this person. And I have many male friends. The male-female friend thing is not impossible at all to me, it’s quite a good reality actually. Most women make me crazy. But anyway, I was surprised to receive a message back saying, “My bad. I won’t bother you anymore.”

Jesus.

Really?

  1. You’re not a bother. If you were, I would’ve told you long ago to leave me alone, but more importantly

  2. You really have no interest in being my friend. Geez…. Wow. Thanks. (<— note the sarcasm)

So here’s my sadness to all this. When meeting people, as a single woman, I honestly approach everyone as a potential friend. (if I find out they’re legitimately crazy or just do awful, awful things… Then no. We won’t be friends.) But I approach everyone with the concept of finding out what they’re about: their visions/dreams, their goals, values, their work, integrity, their peace…. I’m always curious to learn something from someone. And so…. Man… I guess I become sad when I find out later that they did not have the same approach as I. They weren’t genuinely interested in knowing me.

I guess, though, there’s really not much of a reason to be sad, there’s just a reason to grow:  know that not everyone is or even wants to be your friend. And that the people who really want to be in your life, and the people who belong there, will be present and will stay. Everyone else…..??? They’re probably not the best for you. Have faith in that.

Okay, maybe it’s not typical American dating that I’m so frustrated with but perhaps the typical American…

So in reflection on my colleague – this morning I was thinking about his comments and his conclusion:  he whisked off to Costa Rica for 4 days, against the wishes of his wife, to rest, recuperate, rejuvenate… I also wondered why she didn’t want him to go. The man is visibly exhausted. Shoot, I wanted him to go. It’s clear he needed to get away.

And while eating breakfast this morning and listening to my best friend/roommate’s phone conversation with a supervisor, and her subsequent complaints after…. Which were a little irritating to me first thing in the morning but I listened… I thought, “maybe it’s not so difficult at all…. Maybe you’re just doing it wrong.”

I finished my coffee, breathed the irritability out and re-found my peace.

So in reflection:

Breath in.

(finish your coffee)

Breath out.

Re-find your peace.

And keep friendship first.

Be good, good people.

<3

More from the “Dating is Stupid” Files…

Originally penned/published:  Sept 20, 2012

So last year I said that I think dating is stupid.

I still agree.

I’ve went on a lot of “not a dates” in the last year. These, in my world, are chunks of time spent with someone of the opposite sex that I COULD POTENTIALLY have interest in dating in the future but simply want to get to know better. Typically it’s an afternoon or evening with a few beers, hopefully laughs, and random conversation. These are totally cool btw. I’m loving them. No pressure, it’s over when it’s over. I hold very little if any expectations for them.

For me, I think it’s the best way.

However, I have been on some actual dates too. These – I rarely enjoy as much.

So what’s the difference? There’s an expectation with the dates. I can feel it. There’s this ritual, this séance, this whole rigmarole of standards and ways and expectations:

  1. He opens the car door

  2. You climb in and turn your head, you MUST smile to show thanks and kindness

  3. He closes the door for you

  4. You buckle your seatbelt

  5. And then, If you’re thoughtful, you reach over to his side and unlock the door for him to enter the car  ….

And blah blah blahhhhh….

Call me whatever you want. I get tired of this.

Who cares??? Why the séance???

Or call me an anthropologist.  Lol! I like that soooo much better!

I mean, this shit is nice once in a while but every time, it makes me wanna puke.

I also grew up in the northeast where this stuff is rarely done so it catches me off guard and I just don’t care for it very much. It’s the kinda thing where – if done once in a while, on a special occasion, or just because the man thought to and WANTED to in that moment – then HELL YEAH I appreciate it.

But I hate routine. Things like this lose their luster if done every time.

Moving on…

So I was on a date last night. That included these things.

Yay.

(I don’t mean to sound unappreciative, they are NICE, but yeah, yeah, yeah… we just went over that….)

K, so a few things stuck out to me.

  1. I seemed to be this person’s entertainment. I remember having a great time, but I was being silly and laughing and feeling creative and saying funny or abrupt things – all of which I enjoyed! I was sort of entertaining myself. But he??? Mmmmm… he was blah. Bland. I even tried getting him to loosen up a bit with a short, quick ‘say whatever word comes to your mind’ game and…. He couldn’t really play. I could see the calculations. The thinking. I exclaimed: “Stop thinking, just speak!” But he couldn’t.  Or wouldn’t.  Mmmm….. k, moving on….
  2. Story 6, he told. A girl he met one day. 6 years ago in Brooklyn. She asked him to take her picture. He did. They spent part of the afternoon together. Turns out she was heartbroken over a relationship that never actually happened (mmm hmm, yeah girl, I been there!). But anyway, they were riding the train and she was crying over this man who broke her heart. And the datee continues to say, “Y’know I felt awkward, like everyone on the train was looking at ME like I broke her heart!” Seriously??? Wtf. Who the F cares what everyone thinks of YOU!! The woman is crying! Console her. Why are you telling me a story about how YOU felt rather than what you did to try and help? Ugh. People will look at you regardless of what you do. That is a given. Just be who you need to be. …. K, moving on….

  3. Story 12. He admires Ted Turner. Why? I don’t really understand. Some bullshit about seeing a documentary about how he built his empire. Then he won some international yacht race, blah blah blahhhhh….  But then also about how he does a lot of land preservation?? Okay, maybe I believe it. I wanna see the evidence. And how much??? And then, how he doesn’t waste his money??? MMmm hmm… okaaaaay. That’s a highly subjective claim. (“Don’t paint me a picture of the hooker with the heart of gold” – from  The Usual Suspects.) But really tho, who cares?? So he asks me after story 12, “So who do you admire?” I reply with a shrug and a slightly curled lip, then I say flatly: “Nobody famous.” And he looks at me like something he doesn’t understand but thoroughly admires.

Right.

Dates.

They’re fuckin stupid.

I’m kind of over it.

I’d rather just go have some beers.

G’Day!   <3