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History, Silly Me

May 20, 2025 by

Some things I know are irrelevant and meaningless, but may make you laugh.

  1. Rain is not a hazard; driving with your hazard lights on in the rain makes you look stupid; just sayin’.
  2. Love is real, and really difficult.
  3. The day-to-day is much more complicated than it looks from the outside.
  4. We were not meant to live without partnership, friendship, or human touch. We have convinced ourselves otherwise.
  5. Yes, we all have preferences, and the pool is much bigger when we are young.

The above is not everything I know; it is simply a silly list of ‘things’ that on the surface feel connected to why I continue to sleep alone every single night.

I have spent the past couple of years attempting to find Mr. Right, because I believed somewhere in the world he had to exist. I realized I spent too much time alone and was weary of trying to do it all alone. After putting myself out in the dating pool, several attempts at first, second, and third dates, and even a couple of short and abysmal failed relationships, I have realized I will probably have to accept I am past my expiration date.

I am sad about this, but perhaps not surprised. Some of the things I have heard from some of these so called mature (e.g. grown assed men) are:

  • To old
    • Wait, aren’t we the same age?
  • To flawed
    • This was a body-shaming comment, specifically, I am not a Barbie doll, I don’t wear make-up, dye my hair, or any of the other things that would make me socially acceptable.
  • To opinionated
    • Right, I have them, and they are usually backed by facts. I am a font of fact-based opinions, which I will hold up to anyone any day of the week. Don’t bring it if you don’t want to get burned.
  • To smart
    • Yes, more than one man has told me my brain is intimidating. They are looking for someone more arm candy-like who will not embarrass them by speaking.
  • To unavailable
    • This meant I didn’t drop everything to serve them on a whim. Yes, that is what they expected. Leave work, defer my plans, even put myself at risk if needed, so they were served. Really, Sir, I don’t know you like that.

In the simplest terms: too much or not enough.

Those were just the highlights. Fantastic right? The men I have met have all behaved as if they were somehow doing me a favor. Fools who have convinced themselves their presence is enough and nothing more is required of them. These man-children have somehow gotten it into their heads that they are THE GIFT, despite their inability to provide even the simple things necessary to create and sustain a relationship.

If I weren’t so depressed by it, I would find it fascinating.

I have always found human behavior interesting. Where do people get their ideas? Why do they behave the way they do, especially when it is contrary to their best interest? Don’t misunderstand, I have been known to do the same thing, in all honesty, I have been told that my desire for ‘privacy’ in certain aspects of my life is in large part the cause of my divorce, yes, it is true. My desire to keep aspects of my history as just that, history, led to a disconnect, misunderstanding and mistrust.

Well, I still don’t disclose. Strange. I write my history in these pages under a name that isn’t mine. Sometimes, I disclose my blog to anyone interested in reading so that anyone genuinely interested could dig through a decade of writing and find what they were looking for. I am reticent to discuss, and I suppose it is my nature because I do not wish to look at the pity, answer the questions, or even sometimes see the naked ugliness of blame that many in my generation still assign.

What I want to know, why does everyone believe our history is their business? It is a mystery to me. You can’t fix it, you can’t change it, you can’t kiss the booboo and make it all better. Let us keep our secrets if that is what we wish. Not all of us want to tell you about our trauma’s and drama’s, not all of us want you to know we were gang raped at 11 or that our first real ‘love’ partner beat us into unconsciousness, more than once. Some of us want the past to stay in the past, where we have locked our demons away so we can live our lives.

If I tell you I don’t blame all men, I am telling you the truth. I am also telling you the truth, if I tell you I don’t drag my history into my future. But I should not have to tell you the intimate details of the brutality of my past to make you comfortable. I rose up, I survived, I am more than my past. All of those things those men saw, those things that intimated those man-children, those things that created me, the woman I am, the warrior-queen, THE GIFT I am; those are my past, and I am not ashamed but they are mine and I feel under no obligation to share them.

Unfortunately, it leaves an overwhelming sadness to know that now the road ahead is shorter than the road behind, and I seem destined to walk the rest of it alone. This wasn’t what I had envisioned when fighting those battles to survive, grow, and heal.

Filed Under: Series: Single Life, Uncategorized Tagged With: , , , , , , , , ,

Your Mama

March 25, 2024 by

Yes, I said I would come back to talk about dates. It took me a bit because I have been out on a few. I had a couple of first dates, a couple of second dates. I even had a short courtship that I thought was promising but turned out to be smoke and mirrors. What the hell is wrong with men of a certain age, I have to ask this question. What in the hell is wrong with any of us for that matter.

Women, many of us anyway still dream of finding that partner who will walk with us through the remainder of our days. Men, they apparently still only want the superficial, the short-term, or the not so much.

So let me tell you about these men, of a certain age. These sort of dates, this sort of courtship. Shams and silliness. I am discouraged and disappointed in the quality, the ethics, the standards, and values of the men I have met so far. Perhaps they would say the same of me, who knows.

The difference, in my humble opinion; I am transparent in my wants, desires, expectations, and most specifically who and what I am. The same cannot be said of any of the men I have thus far met, dated, or been ‘courted’ by.  I am disappointed that there are not more men who have reached this age capable of adult behavior, conversation, and sustained actions that match the lip service they pay to get what they want.

In a word, I am disappointed there are not more grown assed men in this great big world. Ten years ago, just before my divorce was final, I wrote about what I wanted from the next man in my life, what he was, who he needed to be. I went back to read those two posts, oddly my mystery man hasn’t changed over this past decade. Unfortunately, he remains in the shadow of my mind, quite possibly only a dream.

All I can say to these others, these posers who claim to be grown; your mama’s did not raise you right and your daddy’s surely gave you no direction in what to do when you find yourself in the company of a grown assed woman.

Date One: First, we had to get through his food issues. Then we had to get through planning, yeah, ultimately, I had to find a restaurant that served food he could / would eat (Strike One). Then, he was late by more than 20 minutes despite it being local (Strike Two). Now, it was a casual place, but showing up in raggedy jeans, a Cowboy’s jersey, and not one, not two but three great big metal chains with crosses hanging on your neck, along with a cap on your head that you don’t remove when you sit down; you really haven’t got it together (Strike Four). Finally, when the food is brought out my date tells me he needs to pray before eating, okay; but do you need to pray aloud for three minutes so diners all around us can hear you make a spectacle of yourself and while you are at it, me? When the waiter comes over to fill our glasses, Date One looks me dead in the eye and asks, “you don’t mind if we go Dutch, right?” Oh, hell no I don’t mind; in fact, I insist if it will get me out of here any quicker (Strike Five and Six).

Date Two: After several conversations we decided to meet for lunch. I explained I can’t drive at night, so we agreed on a Saturday and a town between us. He lives southeast of Dallas, and I live northwest. This time I was happy to choose as he was newer to the area. This time we agreed up front to a Dutch date as I wanted to go somewhere a bit more expensive, one of my favorite places. According to his profile and our conversations he had relocated for a job with a local school district. So off we go. I waited for 30 minutes (He was late), when he finally arrived instead of asking at the front, he wandered around looking for me until the waiter took pity and figured out he was likely looking for me (Strike One).  He blamed traffic, I knew where he was coming from and had checked so knew he lied (Strike Two). During the course of our conversation, he admitted he had lost his job in Chicago and had come to Dallas because his brother offered him a place to live, though he did work for a school district it was as a driver not a job he relocated for (Strike Three). His manners were atrocious, and he was incapable of holding a conversation beyond gossiping about his own family members, especially the brother who was kind enough to put a roof over his head (Strike Four). He told me what a great lover he was and that I should invite him over that day to try him out (Strike Five). I couldn’t wait to finish my meal with a to-go box, pay my side of the bill and run like hell.

Well, my darlings that is enough of shenanigans for now. I will get to the one who called himself courting me in the next post. That is a story worthy of its own post.

I think I might be destined to live my life alone if this is what is out there to choose from. I am disheartened and sad that men of an age are still playing games and acting the fool. I would have thought by now they would have put this behind them, but I guess not. Maybe that Grown Assed Man isn’t out there at all, maybe he is only in my head.

Filed Under: Love & Marriage, Series: Single Life Tagged With: , ,

Anything for Love

December 26, 2023 by

I always loved Meatloaf; I know it’s a strange way to start this, but it’s fitting. Take my word for it. In the song, “I Would Do Anything for Love,” four promises are made; most don’t realize this when they listen and constantly wonder what the singer won’t do for love.

If you pay attention to the chorus of the song, each time there is a promise and in that promise is what the singer will not do. Most people never realize this twist in the song written by Jim Steinman and released by Meatloaf in 1993.

“Oh I would do anything for love
But I won’t do that, no I won’t do that”

Well, I can tell you without a doubt that these tired men out here have a litany of things they will not do, not for love or anything else. But whooee baby, do they want to know what you (me) will do for them, and damned if they don’t want to know in great detail.

What is this dial-a-babe? I think you have the wrong number, but I have some spare time so let’s play who has the best imagination, shall we?

Him: I am looking for a long-term relationship. Someone with morals, standards, and values. Someone I can trust and tell my secrets to, who will have my back and wants to make a life with me.

Me: What does that look like for you?

Him: I have six grown children and fourteen grandchildren; I want to find a woman who can be part of my family. Who has humor, can embrace a large family, and wants to make me part of hers. I also enjoy travel and want someone who enjoys seeing new places and cultures.

So far so good, right? This guy is kind of great. Right up my alley. Polite, articulate. Big family, so he understands family dynamics. His profile is funny and articulate, so he had me at the humor! He is a little younger than me, but only by a couple of years, and bonus he is rather nice on the eyes.

The conversation continued with some back-and-forth chatting for a bit, and then he dropped a bombshell.

Him: Usually, women your age don’t want sexually intimate relationships. What is your stance on this?

Me: Have you dated many women my age, or is this simply your online experience?

Him: Only my online experience.

Me: Well maybe it is your approach to the subject. Most of the women I know my age love sex. The problem is that men our age are incapable of accomplishing the goal.

Him: I don’t understand.

Me: Right. Mentioning a woman’s age in the same sentence as you approach sexual intimacy is usually not going to get you very far. That’s like saying to a woman, “I think you are a brilliant conversationalist, but you are too old to fuck.”

Him: Oh. Got it. I don’t think you needed to be that crude though. But I do see what you mean.

Me: I tend to be blunt when it is called for. I think beating around that bush wasn’t going to get the point across.

Him: So, you like sex?

Me: I love sex. With the right person and when the time is right.

Him: Do you like oral sex?

Me: Do you know how to perform oral sex?

Him: Oh, I meant do you like to perform oral sex?

Me: Yes, I know what you meant; the sword is two-edged, though, isn’t it? You are far too old to believe that you should receive without giving. With six children, you should also know how real sexual intimacy works; it starts in the mind. If you catch a woman’s mind, the heart follows; after that, you can ask for anything. But true sexual  intimacy is reciprocal. It is never all about one partner, or about what you like or what you get, while your woman is left wanting.

Him: I don’t like doing that. It doesn’t turn me on.

Me: Well, that is where your problem will always start and stay. Especially at this age when you can’t always depend on your little soldier coming to attention on command.

I haven’t heard back from him; I don’t expect to either. He made me laugh, though, and I thought I would share this one with you. At least he didn’t cuss me out when I challenged his manhood. This is the world of online dating at the getting-to-know-you phase. Delightful, isn’t it?

This is just one of so many. I can be snarky when it is called for. I try not to be, but there are days. What is wrong with these men? Really, what is wrong with them? These are not twenty-five-year-olds with an abundance of testosterone and decades of life ahead of them, these men are 55+, but you surely would not know it by they way they act. Oh well, maybe it is true; maybe some men never grow up.

Next up, the two actual dates I went on and why I wanted to find a brick wall.

Filed Under: Series: Single Life Tagged With: , , ,

Men & Women

November 25, 2023 by

Do you think we are fundamentally different from each other? Men and women, that is, are we different? I mean, other than the noticeable differences, do you think we are genuinely different on the inside? Don’t you think we have the same needs, desires, and wants?

We thirst, hunger, seek shelter. Most of us seek comfort when we are sick. We seek companionship when we are lonely. We seek friendships, people with whom we can form relationships to sustain us. Many of us want to procreate at some point in our lives. And come on, let’s be honest, most of us like sex.

I said it; I just threw it out there, SEX. Most of us like SEX. I won’t lie; I miss sex, I miss intimacy and lying in bed talking and touching, but dammit, I also miss sex. Maybe we aren’t supposed to say these things. Maybe people would be more comfortable if we didn’t say them. I know this mystical wall seems to come down when we hit a certain age, and if we aren’t married or at least partnered in some meaningful way, we seem to regrow our magical hymen as if we are reborn virgins suddenly.

The truth is, sex is more fun once the fear of pregnancy doesn’t burden you, the exhaustion of childrearing doesn’t wear you down, and you have more free time. Sure, it changes because your body changes, but the fundamentals don’t change, and everything is still in the same place and works. Women are funny like that; we don’t require chemicals to help us get where we are going; we simply need patience and extra lubrication.

What does change when we reach a certain age? For me, at least, I don’t want just any Tom or Harry with a Dick in my bed. There are rules to the game these days. I want someone who works to engage my mind before they tell me they want to engage my body. It isn’t that I think I am such a fabulous creature the pursuit should be costly, but there should at least be a willingness to pursue, to show interest in ME.

Thus far, in the interest of fair play, I have tried hard to make myself as transparent as possible on the dating sites I chose. In fact, I read what I wrote after my divorce and used some of that in my profile to create a picture of what I was looking for (links below). I chose sites that serve my preferences and have larger pools in my geographic area and larger pools of people in my age range. My profile pictures are not tasteless club shots; yes, a couple of my tattoos show, but the only way to hide them would be to dress like a nun. Again, I am transparent: if you don’t like tattoos, I am not the one, so move along.

Bachelor #1: he was cute until he opened his mouth to let me know I needed someone to take control. Pass and Block.

Bachelor #2: handsome man, well dressed in his profile picture and, according to his write-up, well-educated too. His first message was very polite; I thought, ‘Well, this is nice.’ His next message is, “Well-endowed and ready to swing.” Hard pass and block.

Bachelor #3: sent 15 messages over the course of two days, all demanding I meet him immediately if I ever wanted a relationship with a ‘good’ man. His messages got increasingly aggressive. Pass, report, and block.

Bachelor #4: we had several relatively comfortable conversations until he asked me if I would relocate across the country for love. I answered that it would be a difficult choice since my life is here. So, I asked him the same question, and he responded that it was a woman’s duty to support her man. I burst out laughing, which was the end of that one after a few choice words. LOL

Bachelor #5: Interesting conversation that reminded me of why I have to always stand up for myself and never again be silent when someone tries to shut me up or shut me down. I am great with a good debate; I love a great debate about anything you want to debate. I am a font of useful and useless knowledge, and most people’s opinions will never stand up under the scrutiny of my facts, so please bring it on. Understand me; I love our soldiers and respect their service. I have too many in my family who have served not to respect those who serve in our volunteer military. Nevertheless, thinking your service in any Armed Forces branch’s enlisted ranks makes you an expert on geopolitical issues is simply foolishness. Unless you have spent all those years of service at the CIA, being an Army Drill Sergeant was just your cover; you are no more expert than the next person. You have a unique perspective if you served in battle, but this still doesn’t make you an expert on geopolitical issues, only on the battlefields you served. When he combined his disdain of my opinion because of my ‘lack’ of service with his quoting of Fox soundbites, his quotes from 45, and his sprinkling of Biblical stands on a woman’s place, well, let’s say…. HARD PASS and BLOCK.

A few others didn’t make it to the point of a conversation or weren’t worthy of noting here.

Maybe I am fated to be alone. That would be a shame, I think there is still life in me. I think there is something still worth loving in me. I don’t think I am done yet, but boy, oh boy, if this is what the world has to offer, I sure might be.

So, back to my original question: men and women, are we really all that different? It seems we are not different in our desires, but how we go about it, dang.

From April 2014: https://valentinelogar.com/2014/04/13/served-grown-up-please/

From July 2014: https://valentinelogar.com/2014/07/03/served-grown-up-part-deux/

From Oct 2014: https://valentinelogar.com/2014/10/12/imprinted-for-life-attractions/

Filed Under: Love & Marriage, Series: Single Life Tagged With: , , , ,

Dating at an Age

November 4, 2023 by

I just re-read this series to see what has changed. Not much except that I am four years older, still single and maybe just a bit more unhappy with the situation than I was. Truthfully, the thought of growing old alone and unpartnered gives me a certain sadness and increasing fear as I look into the future.

Looking back, I know I must own most of the choices that brought me here. Not all of them, but many of them. Strangely, I only regret some, but not all.

Do I wish sometimes I could take some things back? Absolutely. Yet, I also know it wouldn’t have changed the ultimate outcome and may have made it worse.

Oddly, I chose to spend years in a relationship that wasn’t a relationship to protect myself from looking for anything better. Did I know he wasn’t the one? Of course, I did. Not because I didn’t love him, but because in my heart I knew he didn’t love me. Did I know he would never be the one? I expect I did; I allowed myself the blinders to not see what was uncomfortable so I could exist in a relationship that would ultimately hurt me and shove me further into solitude but allow me the comfort of my introversion without explanation. I spent seven (7) years waiting for my heart to heal with a man who broke me more. Does that seem counterintuitive?

Did I learn anything? Many things, some of the things I learned, would help me to survive without partnership. Some made me even better as a future partner to that mythical being that may exist somewhere out there. Some of them, well, some of them likely making it harder for me to find that unicorn.

So here I am, finally ready to jump back in and search for that glade of warriors, who just might be ready to find me too. I know they will be battle-weary, have been out in the world just like me, and scared, just like me. I get it; we all have our war chests, filled with all the medals of wars won and lost, swirled with all the bullshit of lies told and hurt survived. I promise you I am not looking for pristine; that would be the most ridiculous ask I could make. I am just looking for that person who can match my energy, fill the empty spaces, and wants to be a true partner in what is left of this journey.

What is all this leading up to? Good question, and I want to share. Well, those who have followed in the past know I share, sometimes too much. With everything going on in the world, all the terrible and terrifying, there has to be something we can laugh at together, something we can smile about and even find the occasional ridiculous in. As I re-read this series, I thought, well, why not my experiences trying to find love at sixty-six.

No, I won’t share sex with you, not that there is any sex happening, dammit.

What I do plan, though, is the lighter side of online dating and otherwise. Dating sites are a treat to the senses once you find your humor about them. Yes, I signed up for several online dating sites explicitly promoted for my age and preferences.

I will tell you now: I have not found that mythical unicorn. I have discovered many trolls, and they can either destroy any last vestige of faith in possibility or in inciting hilarity, depending on your state of mind.

So, for now, I search and hope. I watch the world and wonder. I plan how to share the tribulations of dating at sixty-six without overwhelming you with the ugly, and begin to consider living the rest of my days as I live now if that person I hope for never emerges from the mist.

I hope you will follow the journey.

Filed Under: Series: Single Life Tagged With: , , , , ,

Love in a Pandemic

March 21, 2020 by

caution-symbol-safety-sign-500x500A friend asked me the other day what they should do now that everything was locked down, there was no gathering places, no places to meet in public, no ‘date’ night specials. How were they going to proceed to meet new potential mates and get to know their options.

With caution?

Yes, that was my first response. Yes, it was a teensy, tiny bit snarky. Honestly, though, I didn’t understand the issue. We have a pandemic going on in the world and it is here, right here in these United States and you are worried about whether or not you can keep your social life going? Is this a bit shallow?

Then I thought about it from my friend’s perspective. She, like me, feels the weight of years though not quite as many years, she feels them just as I feel them. She like me has been divorced for more than five years and like me, she has formed a few what felt like to her committed relationships, they did not go the distance or as planned. She like me is looking down what feels like a short road and wondering if she is going to be alone for the rest of the journey.

Pandemic be damned then full speed ahead, her prince may be out there and he might frogprincebe just as lonely in his isolation as she is.

We are similar in so many ways yet different in one very important personality quirk, one key that will allow us to weather this storm with our sanity intact. She and I are polar opposites in our need for regular human interaction. Don’t mistake me, I enjoy my friends and family simply in smaller and more controlled doses. I also enjoy a dinner out now and then, I just simply don’t need it. My friend, on the other hand, she still loves nightspots, dancing, concerts and anything else that gets her out and about. Me? I love the theater and willingly take myself on dates, I have zero need for company. My friend? She would not be caught dead anywhere alone and feels downgraded if I invite her to come with me.

Needless to say, we are very different creatures.

I spend days, sometimes even weeks without ever talking to a single soul unless it is work-related. My friend can’t go more than a few hours without social interaction, she feels unloved, unappreciated and unfulfilled. She needs human touch, human validation, human voices to know she exists in the world. She is an extrovert, I love her dearly but she makes me a bit crazy at times. I realized during this conversation, her extroversion goes beyond her comfort in crowds and her extreme touchy-feely-huggy with everyone she meets. Her extroversion is her spirit and soul, it is how she feeds her joyfulness every single day and she is joyful. This compulsory isolation is removing from her a necessary part of her life, her ability to reach out and touch, emotionally and physically other human beings.

She wasn’t just asking about how to continue her dating life, how to continue her search for her prince charming. She was asking how to live.

So I had to get serious with my friend, I don’t want to lose her to depression. I also don’t want to lose her because she does something stupid, desperation can cause any of us to make stupid choices. There are no simple choices right now, yes our prince may well be out there but if we haven’t found them yet there is no simple answer to dating during a pandemic, social distancing is the only answer we have and maybe it is a blessing we weren’t looking for but a blessing nonetheless. Time to get back to some good old fashioned courtship routines; talking, no touching, sitting far apart, walks in the park. I know, it all sounds so sterile and it is, but why risk dying if you don’t have to.

Old LettersTalk on the phone, after you have established some level of feel-good and trust. Write long emails to each other, learn to use your words. There was a time when letter writing was a valued transaction between courting pairs when letters were saved as proof of intentions. My grandmother had letters from my grandfather from before and during their marriage, how she was able to read them is beyond me but she was and she married him. Use Chat and Video Chat, again learn to use your words. The point is get to know your potential date mate as a human being before your very first date, figure out if this is a person you actually want to spend time with, find out if you can have a conversation.

Love in a pandemic, where fear rules us and isolation is the decree of the day will be hard. When you are not naturally inclined toward seclusion this will be even more difficult. My friend is already feeling the pressure of being alone, without the validation of social interaction to lift her spirit she is afraid. I understand her anxiety. I have a different level of distress, even though my natural tendency to isolate and this allows me to get through days without interaction I am afraid too and I will talk about that at some other time.

How will we get through this?

I can only think this isn’t forever and we will come out the other side differently. We will learn different skills and different ways to build relationships and interact with each other. Our expectations will be different and perhaps we will set a new standard for those prince’s who wish to join us on our journey. Women of a certain age want to partner, we don’t want to live our lives alone. In this, my friend and I are very much alike. Now we look down this tunnel of how do we find that elusive man who will see us for all we are, all we have to offer and begin to build a very different portrait, one that is more honest more true to life, of them and ourselves. Possibly that portrait will be more true to life.

At least that is my hope.

Filed Under: Love & Marriage, Series: Single Life Tagged With: , , ,

Home Alone

February 20, 2020 by

Linda1What do you do at the age I am when faced with big choices, huge life altering decisions? There are forks in the road at any age, but I think as we get older either we get less brave or they get more daunting, perhaps it is a bit of both. You would think it would be easier, these choices as there are less people and things to consider yet oddly it is not.

Let me give you some background. The strangeness of it all and my thinking on the subject of big decisions at this stage of life.

After a terrible run, I ended up in a job that suits me in many ways doing work that fits my skills and background. Like any position there is always good and bad. With this one the scale is fairly equally balanced. Odd to say that, but when I really look at it with clear eyes it is quite true. The issue? I don’t know that it is stable, not my position so much as the organization itself. This frightens me to death. At my age finding work is hard, I found that out after looking for six months, running through my entire savings and nearly losing everything. It was terrifying.

Dating at 62 is petrifying, looking for work is even more so.

Every now and then something comes along though, something that causes you to stop and think, stop and question. One of those questions is always, “what if?”

What if I take this risk? What will it cost me vs. what do I have to gain.

A few weeks ago a headhunter presented me with one of those conundrums, at least on paper. Usually I read these with a jaundiced eye. This one though, for some reason it caught me. This one seemed at least on paper to have been written for me. So, with a bit Opportunity-Signof ‘what the hell’ I responded to the request for me resume, my current status and my standard hourly rate. The next day I got a call back, would I be willing to negotiate my rate by $5, it was after all a long-term contract and it came with great benefits for the right candidate. Well, sure that did make a difference.

Then nothing. For a couple of weeks. I didn’t think much of the nothing, that is how things go. Then, well they really want a local candidate so that is what they are interviewing, well that really does make sense given the type of contract. Then, would you be willing to move for the contract duration, they won’t pay travel, but they might negotiate some of the cost of the move.

Hmmmm, that is a big ask for a contract. Give me a day to think about it. With one exception I have never been asked to physically move for job and that was under very different circumstances. My answer? Let’s get through the first round of interviews, see if we even like each other and if there really is a fit then we can talk about the rest.

Businesswoman and business planWell, we did that. Now we are trying to set a schedule for the next round and I am at that proverbial crossroad, though I see it as more of a branch. What is my answer? How much risk am I willing to take? I am 62 years old, I should be thinking about retirement not galivanting off on my next damned adventure. Instead here I am considering:

Do I shut my house down, rent it or sell it.

Do I have another great purge, move some or all of my things. I could always put what I love in storage. Hell some of my stuff is still in boxes from my move to this house three years ago.

Then there are really some personal questions that have to be answered, maybe asked and answered is a better way to think about these:

For four years I have been in and out of a relationship that sometimes works and sometimes doesn’t. Recently it truly doesn’t and it has caused a great deal of hurt. I am using this as an opportunity to escape?

Will a move to a completely new city, new state cause me to act any differently than I do today? Will I suddenly become more extroverted, get out more?

Will going to an office everyday rather than working from home force me to form more human bonds?

Finally there are the financial questions, both short term and long term that loom at my age that have to be considered carefully. We all face these at any age, but I think as we get older they become more obvious and perhaps in some cases are more perilous.

My six months of unemployment wiped out my savings and damaged my debt. I have summer-job-hunting-0812worked on debt but have not rebuilt savings. This opportunity would allow me to finish wiping out debt and rebuild a great deal of what I lost in savings, if I sold my current house and banked the equity for the two years of the contract. Yes, I have run the numbers. Debt free, I would have far more choices than I have today about many things, including:

Where I live

The types of jobs I can accept

The salary I need to live

Two years out of my life doesn’t seem huge in the face of the choice it would give me for risk2a different future. A future with less struggle and less drama. A future less tied to the past. Perhaps the choice should be easy, I wish it were so. Yet, as with every big choice there remains that looming risk of ‘what if?’

Contracts go south every single day. Projects get put on hold or contractors get let go with no warning and no cushion to bounce on. There I would be 62, strange city, strange state, no family or friends and no home to go home to. Thus my challenge. How will I answer if the position is offered? What will I do? There are so many reasons to say yes, is fear the only reason to say no?

leaping2

Filed Under: Series: Single Life Tagged With: , , , ,

Abnormal

January 18, 2020 by

feminity1I have been accused of being abnormal, of not being feminine in my responses, of not being sufficiently emotional. This is not the first time someone has said this to me, likely it will not be the last. My only answer to these accusations is I keep my emotions under control and am not given to public displays, even if you are an audience of one. If you are acting out to gain a response from me you will be sorely disappointed and I will not apologize for this.

I don’t believe I am abnormal, only that I have examined many human emotions closely and found they don’t suit me; I have discarded them. I am at peace with myself, with my imperfections. This does not mean I am happy to traipse alone through the last part of my life journey. It simply means I am unlikely to make significant adjustments to my core being to accommodate the expectations of others regarding who I ‘should’ be as a woman.

notnormal

For most of my life I took care of everyone around me, everyone came before me their needs before mine. This is part of my nature and can be draining. My tendency was to hold everything very close until I had enough, then I would blow up with sometimes catastrophic outcomes. Because I didn’t ask for what I needed, didn’t tell what was wrong, didn’t talk to partners, friends, parents or anyone in my orbit if there was a problem no one knew until it was too late to prevent that blow up. While those blow ups often hurt others, they all to often hurt me far more.

I don’t do this anymore. I am still quiet. I still listen more than I talk. I still have a tendency to take care of the people I love more than ask for care when I need it. This is still my core nature. What I don’t do is allow it to go without speaking up if I believe a relationship is not reciprocal. What I don’t do is not care for myself. The odd thing though, I am accused of not being sufficiently womanly e.g. emotional in my response to things.

It is true, I frequently withdraw.

It is true, I do not weep and gnash my teeth.

It is true, I do not fling myself to the floor and beg for attention.

It is true, I do not scream, yell, call names or other such nonsensical behaviors one sometimes sees on TV these days. If this is the expectation there will always be disappointment, always.

The emotional blackmail I do not respond to and have not responded to for years? The attempts to force me to react, I think they are childish and demonstrate a lack of confidence in the other person, these sometimes seem to be tests in whether I care or not. If I fail these tests, we are likely not good partner material. Some of the ‘tests’ I have failed recently, the emotions I have failed to adequately demonstrate:

Jealousy, it simply isn’t part of my DNA. It once was, I admit I use to feel horrifyingly jealous and it would tear me apart inside. Now though I no longer respond or react. I don’t know when I stopped feeling the monster of jealousy rise in my heart, I think it was jealous-700x450when I realized I could not make someone love me, could not force someone to stay and could not change another person’s heart no matter what I felt. There was no point to this emotion, it hurt no one but me. I didn’t do anything to change myself, it was simply I stopped feeling jealous. I still felt angry at a betrayal, at a lie but I no longer felt jealous.

Envy was another of those strange emotions that simply disappeared, it seemed in a day though I am sure it didn’t just poof away. I remember being younger and envying other women their perfect bodies, their clothes, their husbands, their jobs and the list goes on. I remember seeing others and wanting what they had, even just wanting to be them. I would sit sometimes and simply daydream of not being me, being anyone but me. My envy would envelope me in a fog, then suddenly it was gone. Suddenly I cannot imagine being anyone but me, despite everything I cannot dream of any life but my own. There are days I see a beautiful woman in the store and admire her, but my admiration is not envy.

Fury, I held on to my fury for days, sometimes weeks or longer. That fire would burn me flameWomanand others in a destructive path. While it might have been justified it was not healthy in its expression and it never ended well. Now, I know how to express anger when it occurs rather than let it burn me out. Now I know how to speak up and speak out. Now I know that to hang on to anger, allow it to become fury, give it free rein and rent in my soul is one of the most self-destructive things I can do.

Hate, I let this one go a very long time ago but I have to frequently check up and check in. I have said for a couple of decades you have to feed hate to keep it alive and I believe it. There are people and things I don’t like, I don’t allow in my life; but even those who have done me great and terrible harm, I do not hate. Some of them I had to teach myself not to hate. Some of them I had to let go of, I had to find them in my head and kick them out. Some of them I had to write about, here and elsewhere until they were purged. Some of them I had to learn to understand so I could justify not hating them. Slowly though I let go of hate, slowly I learned peace through letting my monsters go.

I still hate green peas.

So some men find me uncomfortable. They do not understand my ‘lack’ of emotional response. They find me to pragmatic, to logical in my responses to some of their actions and behaviors. They find my quiet disarming. Some men find my ‘lack’ of normal female emotions uncomfortable.

Relationships and dating at this age is difficult if you don’t follow the rules. Unfortunately, apparently I don’t follow the rules.

I am an introvert. I am perfectly capable of taking care of all my needs. I do not need anyone though I want someone in my life who will partner me evenly and is capable of a balanced relationship.

I am quiet. I know myself. I have clear expectations. I do not play games and it is unlikely I will respond the way you expect if you attempt to play games with me. These statements about my abnormality just got me thinking, I am perhaps more of an anomaly than I thought and should maybe be prepared for what I once considered an intolerable future. It is not that I don’t have hope, but these statements of my abnormality certainly leave me wondering.

womanonpath

Filed Under: Series: Single Life Tagged With: , , , , ,

62 and Single

January 11, 2020 by

introvert-life-tips-e1486148449878 (1)

I never thought I would be single at this age; this isn’t what I believed my life would look like. Truthfully, I assumed my life would be much different than it is today. Some days I wake up and wonder who is living my life, who is inhabiting the life plan I had. Well if I am honest, I wake up and think to myself, just what the fuck.

Excuse my expletive. There might be a few more so if you are offended easily you might not want to read this simple exploration of life at sixty-two, where nothing is quite as planned.

If someone had told me when I was twenty-five the trajectory my life was going to take, I would have laughed uproariously. I wouldn’t have believed them, sixty-two was old as the hills and I didn’t expect to live that long in all honesty. In the back of my mind though, I had expectations;

  • To marry, once
  • To have children, two
  • To have a careerlifethegame
  • To have grandchildren
  • To build a future and a home

To live the same life, follow the same path my father followed and embrace the same familiar patterns I had grown up with once my rebellion was finished. I was nearly done at twenty-five, almost completed my teenage angst and young adult anguish. I had started down the path of adulthood and was building that future though perhaps not quite in a regular fashion I had expected early on in life.

Yet here we are, thirty-seven years later and I am sixty-two years old and I am alone. I have had two husbands and a few wannabe husbands. One who I left and the other who left me. I have helped raise two children, both who remain close, but who are not mine except through bounds of love. I live alone in a house that is mine but still feels not quite home. I have lived a life that by all accounts was not normal but certainly built character, still I have to ask why am I alone when this is the last thing I intended to be.

Oddly, I am not unhappy or lonely most of the time. I enjoy my time within the self-imposed Personal_spacebubble, the time I can spend in my own company is strangely comforting. There are simply times I would like to know there is another person who is uniquely part of my world and chooses to share in my future. Someone who is a dependable source of both solace and pleasure. That single person who I can turn to as companion, partner, friend and yes, lover. Does this seem to be two distinctly different, even polar opposite spaces to occupy?

It may be. I cannot determine if it is or not. This sometime overwhelming longing to have a person in my life, a man who sees me, looks on me with compassion and desire does not take away from my pleasure in finally having peace and quiet. It does not reduce the enjoyment I take in my self-determination, of being able to finally do what I choose without thinking of anyone but myself. There is a strange dichotomy in finding yourself at sixty-two finally on your own, alone and independent of all responsibility but to yourself.

I remember thinking, there will come a time my sons will be grown they will marry, have children and be independent adults. There were times during my marriages I sometimes thought, my husband(s) will grow the hell up and become responsible grown-assed men, they will be full time contributors rather than emotional and financial dependents. I will be free to do what I wish, to work differently, to travel more or whatever else I wish to do. Then of course, divorce struck and financial setbacks took away my freedoms.

I recovered; I was most fortunate. Now I think, I cannot afford to just do anything to squander my recovery and my future. I must think like an adult, huh.

AmbivertScale

Can you guess where I sit on this spectrum?

So, adulthood hits at sixty-two and what it looks like doesn’t thrill me. Who in their right mind wants to do this, alone? This isn’t what I thought it would look like. Dating isn’t something I can do easily; I am not good with new people or small talk. Years ago, I tried on-line dating for a brief minute, that didn’t work for me so I won’t try it again. I am far too picky, a man would have to be extraordinary to catch and hold my attention, he would have to be part superhero, part bad boy and part old school gentleman (like my father). He would have to have the smile of an angel, clean fingernails, the patience of a saint and be able to laugh at himself.

Does this even exist anymore?

ShhhI have been so fortunate in my life. I have been loved and I have loved. I know what both look like. I have also been terribly disappointed, yes, I have also disappointed. None of us are without flaws, none of us have gone through life without mistakes. The thing is, I am better for mine, I hope. I don’t want to spend my last years alone, I want to share this last part of my life with someone who will love me knowing all my flaws, all my skeletons, all my baggage. Who will see me fully and without judgement hold me closely through the end.

I just keep wondering, how did I get here, sixty-two, single, alone and is this it?

Filed Under: Love & Marriage, Series: Single Life Tagged With: , , , , ,