But, I don’t wanna be Jennifer Aniston!

You guys…

I just remembered why I hate the 23rd of June.

This was the day the ass hat left.

2 years ago.

2 FREAKIN’ YEARS AGO.

How is it possible that it’s been two years already?

I think this is where I’m supposed to take stock of my life and compare how much better off I am now than I was then.

But I can’t. Even if it is true, I can’t help feeling like a bit of a failure. If the *bleep!* (c’mon kids, let’s keep it clean) hadn’t hit the fan, I’d have a house, a dog, a KID, and some semblance of a happy marriage.

Or not.

Maybe if the *bleep!* hadn’t hit the fan, I’d still be living in the same apartment, tripping over Legos and dealing with harrible in-laws without a dog, OR a kid, just biding my time until sweet death took one or the other of us.

Who knows?

But I totally wish I knew.

I mean, if I’m being honest about comparing my life then and my life now? Well, there’s no comparison. I’m happier than I’ve ever been. I have a job that I’m not only THRILLED with but thriving in. My faith is stronger and deeper than ever before. I’ve finally figured out who I am and what I like and what I stand for. I’m not afraid of things anymore. And I feel happy in my own skin.

And yet…

There are some days where I can’t seem to see beyond the things I don’t have anymore. I mean, I’m 32, you guys. I should have a husband. I should have a house. I should have kids. And I was totally on the fast track for those things when…

You know. The *bleep!* hit.

I’m sorry… give me a minute.

*Deep breath*

Okay. It’s all good.

I guess what I’m saying is…

I don’t wanna be Jennifer Aniston!

Why can’t I be Rita Wilson?

Or Sarah Michelle Gellar?

Or Faith Hill?

WHY JENNIFER ANISTON, DAMMIT?!

I DON’T WANNA BE JENNIFER ANISTON!

Even if Jennifer Aniston DOES get Justin Theroux in the end, that doesn’t make up for-

Oh.

Wait.

That totally makes up for everything.

Dammit! Where is my Justin Theroux?!?!

 

 

 

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Tomorrow

Tomorrow will mark what was supposed to be my 7th wedding anniversary.

On the oustide, I’m all…

Oh, is that today? Whatevs. I didn’t even notice.

But the reality of the situation is more like this…

The good ol’ laugh-cry.

Bordering on this…

No wonder I’ve been so freakin’ hungry lately. I’m clearly eating my feelings.

The thing is, I wasn’t even aware of these feelings 24 hours ago. All I knew is that I felt sad. And then it hit me. Oh, yeah, 7 years ago I was getting married. And then my ex took a big steaming crap all over those nuptials, grew a goatee and became the total ass hat he always knew he could be.

I hate feelings. I especially hate that I feel sad. What the hell am I feeling sad for?! I know I’m better off and happier without him. I know this is genuinely a blessing for me. But I think the part that makes me so sad is knowing that someone could stomp all over and ruin something that genuinely was a decent marriage and do it with zero remorse and zero conscience, and act all glib about it as though he didn’t leave me with massive trust and abandonment issues.

And I don’t think it helps matters that I have seen zero hint of remorse from him, and I’ve never been able to exact even the tiniest amount of revenge on his harrible ass.

SO, in honor of tomorrow and the rage currently building up in the deepest depths of my soul… here’s this fantastic giphy montage of all the harrible things I imagine myself doing to him.

Whew! Okay! I think that should calm my rage for a bit. Thanks for letting me get that out, peeps. Ya’ll are the best.

You Complete Me

I saw this Christian Mingle commercial on TV the other night which stated, “There’s someone out there who needs you, whose life you can fulfill and who makes yours complete.”

I nearly launched myself off the couch and body slammed the TV to the floor.

Like this… except no one was wearing a thong…

But instead, I mustered up all the self-control I could… muster… and instead just started yelling at the TV.

Why? Because… um… uh… hello? Uh… False Advertising?

C’MON, PEOPLE. Have we learned NOTHING from the copious amount of relationship failures that are so prevalent in our society?

I mean… when was the last time Tom Cruise gave us any kind of helpful advice?

Have you seen what the man does to couches? Is that really the kind of person you want to be taking relationship advice from? Really?!

C’mon, Christian Mingle. You complete me. Really? Fulfilling someone’s life? Having someone complete yours? Having all your needs met by another human being?

Um… NO. Just… NO. Stop with all the lying! Why are we still buying into this romantic comedy BS? And why are dating sites promoting that BS as truth? I mean… WHAT THE HECK?! Are there still people out there that think their lives can magically become better and more perfect because of another human being?! That another human being can fulfill all their needs and make their life complete and they’ll never feel sad or lost or lonely or empty ever again because they have someone there that’s going to fix it all?!

REALLY?!

Wow… you people are idiots.

That’s not how it works. That’s not how any of this works!

Think about it: Have you ever come across another human being that makes you happy all the time? That you never get annoyed with, or frustrated with, or want to throw across the room from time to time? Are you always happy and pleased with everything your best friend, child, sister, or brother does? Do you always understand them? Are you always on the same page? You never, ever, ever think, “Oh, GAWD… go away… I can’t deal with you right now, you stupid animal…”?

I call BS.

There is not a single person out there that makes us happy all the time. Why do people buy into the fantasy that there’s a soul mate out there that can fulfill their needs and complete them? If other people can’t do it, why do you think you have a soul mate that can magically do it? Are they some kind of magical, perfect, superhuman entity whose farts smell like roses and is able to poop unicorn glitter?

See?

It doesn’t make sense. The only person who can fulfill your needs and complete you is… YOU. YOU need to feel happy and fulfilled and complete before you can even reasonably consider joining your life to another person’s life. If YOU can’t fulfill your own needs and feel complete, why do you think another person will be able to? They’re not Jesus, for crying out loud. They’re imperfect and annoying and full of flaws just like you are. They can’t complete you. You have to complete yourself and fulfill your own needs… no one else is capable of doing that job but you.

So, I call BS on all this false advertising that these dating sites put out there. But Christian Mingle? Yours takes the cake. I have never heard anything so ridiculous. Stop trying to sell this unreasonable fantasy and try telling the truth: That if you can find someone you can be good friends with, that you only feel like killing every once in a while, that you can laugh with and work with and put up with 75% of the time, you’ve won the jackpot.

Let’s try selling that, shall we?

 

 

 

All By Myself

Soooo… remember that time I was all like, “MER. You GUYSSSSSS…. I have to go to a funeral all by myself and it’s going to be awkward and stupid and gross.”?

Remember that?

And then, I sat there like this:

Even though you couldn’t see me.

And then remember how I put on my big girl pants (size small, thank you very much) and went to the funeral?

Remember that?

Well, in a CRAZY turn of events, it just so happens that I am WAY awesome at flying solo. Like, even more awesome than I was when I was part of a twosome.

Honestly, I was kind of brilliant with the whole, “Going by myself. To a funeral. All alone. Just me. No one else. Yes, sir. Going to a funeral.” thing.

I KNOW! WHO KNEW?!

Turns out, that when I’m all by myself, not tagging along as a third wheel, or one half of a whole, I’m totally fine. You know why? Because I don’t have to worry about anyone but myself. I don’t have to worry about what someone else is doing or saying or thinking. It’s BRILLIANT! It’s pretty much the best time ever.

It’s funny. I always thought I’d be horrified to go places by myself. And then after being married, I thought I could never do anything by myself ever again. Turns out that I totally can… and it’s way more enjoyable than I ever thought.

I think part of the reason is because when I was married, I kind of functioned as the adult in the relationship. I was the one who knew how to behave appropriately in social situations. My husband was… well… a complete ass (and not in a cutely awkward kind of way). Only, he didn’t know he was being an ass. He thought he was being funny and charming. But really, he was just being an ass.

For instance, after the funeral service ended, I hugged my friend, offered my condolences and said a few kind words about the service and her husband. Then I left. I did not say something like, “So, what’s Mike up to these days?” (in reference to the deceased – name changed… obviously), or “Where can I get some food around here?” or launch into some gripe about how the florist at my great aunt’s funeral had butchered the arrangements and then charged the family double. DOUBLE!

In fact, I didn’t say or do anything inappropriate. My husband? Totally would have. (I can easily see him saying any and all of the above.) And then I would have promptly died, while those around me chuckled politely, aghast at his horrifying attempt at humor. Then I would have had to explain to him in the car why the comment wasn’t appropriate. Then he would have freaked out because I was being a control freak, and besides, everyone knew he was kidding and they thought it was funny and that’s why they laughed. And then I would have to explain that people weren’t actually laughing… they were trying to cover up their horror, and that was just their polite way of dealing with an otherwise really uncomfortable situation. And he would tell me I was wrong and making him feel bad about himself and it would have been this whole… THING. But nope. None of that happened. And you know why? BECAUSE I WAS BY MYSELF. Now that I’m all by myself… NO THINGS! No inappropriate comments! No horrified reactions! No putting on of kid gloves to explain how the world works to a grown adult!

I’m sorry… but it’s kind of… AMAZING.

And freeing. And… really, really cool.

I need to do things by myself more often.

Turns out, I’m pretty good at it.

The Secret Lives of Boys – Part 4

I swear I intend to wrap up the series in this installment. Could I be wrong? Absolutely. Do I plan on it? Not so much.

And If you’ve missed the first installments, you can find them below:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3


Obviously, throughout the course of my life, my perceptions of men have changed – from being woefully naive and sometimes outrageously unrealistic to having a better understanding of the expectations women put on men and just how unrealistic those expectations can be.

Looking back on my marriage, I can honestly say I didn’t have unrealistic expectations for my husband. Were there things I had to learn to let go of? Absolutely. Had I learned to let a lot of things go and let him be himself? Yes. It was a constant learning process, a continual give and take. Was I always successful? Of course not, but the point is, I was trying and giving it my best. But it becomes difficult when the world has expectations of what men should and shouldn’t be, and when your mate suddenly doesn’t meet those expectations… it becomes an awkward dance for the woman to “make” her mate more… “presentable”.

Let’s face it. Society expects men to be everything a woman needs wrapped up in a fashionably dressed package. They should be sensitive, but not too sensitive. Manly, but not brutish. Funny, but not overly sarcastic or off-color. Professional, but personable. Present and engaged, but not meddlesome. Able to lead, but not bossy or demanding. Responsible, but adventurous. Adventurous, but not unnecessary risk-takers. Helpful, courteous, kind and compassionate, but not so much so that you begin to confuse them with your closest girlfriend.

Are you picking up what I’m laying down? We want men to be everything, but not too much of something. It’s no wonder so many men are commitment phobic and wary of women. What the hell do we want from them, anyway?! (On the flip-side, of course, men’s expectations of women are oftentimes just as confusing and unrealistic, but that’s a whole ‘nother box of worms for another time.)

After the terrible, harrible, no good, very bad event, I began to build up more expectations, higher expectations, and unreasonable expectations for men in order to avoid being screwed over by anyone ever again. And these expectations were beginning to look a lot like the unreasonable expectations I had started out with in the first place. I was right back where I started from. Which was insane, because after my experiences with both my husband and my brother, I knew no guy was perfect, nor was it reasonable or fair to expect that of him. Furthermore, after seeing what some guys managed to morph into after nagged into submission by their significant others, I knew I didn’t want that. But… I didn’t want to get hurt again either. So, how was I going to find a perfect man that was still… a man?

I wasn’t. There is not such thing as a perfect man. There are good guys, honorable guys, and loyal guys, but there are no perfect men. Even the best, most gentlemanly and honorable guys are going to have a penchant for driving too fast, telling off-color jokes, taking risks, and occasionally behaving like adolescent hoodlums. Why? Because they’re men. They’re not women. They’re men. No matter how much we try to “polish them up” or make them more “presentable” to society, a man is a man is a man. What exactly is wrong with that?

Apparently there’s enough wrong with that that men feel the need to keep portions of their lives hidden from their female counterparts (much like my brother did) out of guilt and not “measuring up”. They’re not trying to be idiots, but they have to be men, and that means sometimes being stupid, blowing off steam, getting angry, telling dirty jokes, laughing at dirty jokes, driving too fast and sometimes taking some risks.

Please understand. This is not a free pass for men to engage in total asinine behavior. Men can still be responsible, loyal, faithful, kind and patient without giving up their manhood. But if a man is all of those things, is it really necessary to tame him to the point of demanding he give up his motorcycle, his affinity for cigars, and his appreciation for dirty jokes all in the name of making him more “polished”?

Ladies, we need to learn to pick our battles. We need to recognize that men are supposed to be a little wild and untamed; they’re supposed to be risk-takers; they’re supposed to be “men”. And if we’re not okay with that, then maybe we need to re-evaluate some of our expectations. I know once I did, I found myself appreciating men a whole lot more for who they are, not for what they had the potential to be.

The Secret Lives of Boys – Part 2

Missed the first part? Find it here: The Secret Lives of Boys – Part 1


So, basically, I had these unrealistic and completely unreasonable expectations for the men in my life.

And then I got married.

Obviously, I didn’t carry all of these unreasonable expectations into marriage with me (because, let’s be honest… if I had, there would have been a blood bath after the first month), but male behavior still bewildered and baffled me. It didn’t help matters that my husband hadn’t grown up with any sisters, but instead 4 overgrown babies of brothers who couldn’t handle much social interaction outside of scratching, farting, burping and making poop jokes. Basically, my in laws were the cast of “Alaskan Bush People” (and that’s only a slight exaggeration). This did not bode well for a girly girl who thought men were already weird in the first place.

Despite this, I never tried to all-out change my husband. (Note to all women everywhere: You cannot, should not and will not ever change your husband/boyfriend/fiance. Stop trying.) Sure, I rolled my eyes at his gross jokes, and showed my disdain when he’d fart in public, and I tried to get him to dress more nicely… but, I never tried to change him. Polish him up a little bit, sure. But change him? Not so much.

At least I didn’t think so…

The funny thing was, when I was around my brother and he would show these same “male” traits, I would just laugh, and then roll my eyes at his wife when she would get mad at him. With my brother, it was funny. With my husband, it was  unacceptable. I realized the disconnect there, but I could never pinpoint the reason for it, nor change it. Why were the same “boy” things okay for my brother to do, but not okay for my husband to do?

In recent years (and especially in the months after my divorce), my brother and I have become quite close. So, it bothered me when I began to notice that the weirdo freak of a brother I had grown up with was turning into a brow-beaten stump of a husband who was supposed to behave properly at all times. In a word, he was whipped. Suddenly the things that my sister-in-law and I would commiserate over (why can’t men pick up after themselves, what’s with their obsession over cars, why do they think it’s funny to tell dirty jokes in mixed company, WHY CAN’T THEY JUST BE NORMAL?!) became reasons to suck the life and personality out of the men in our lives. Suddenly, as a single woman, I wasn’t okay with that. In an attempt to be “normal” and more “acceptable”, my brother was losing the personality that had made him so funny and awesome in the first place.

Had I done the same thing to my husband? Were women doing the same things to their husbands? How long had we been doing this? “Where have all the cowboys gone?” I DON’T KNOW… MAYBE WE “POLISHED” THEM TO DEATH?!

As a single woman, I was suddenly seeing things from a new perspective. And I didn’t like what I was seeing…

Accountability

So… I kinda need to talk about it again.

I know, I know, I know… AGAIN?! STILL?! FOR THE LOVE OF PETE, WOMAN! DROP IT AND MOVE ON!

I know. I will. I promise. I just… can’t… right now. Too many thoughts, too many emotions, too many “what-ifs”. I blame it on my period.

But as I try to “deal” with all these thoughts, emotions, and “what ifs” instead of running away from them, something keeps bothering me.

Accountability.

I feel like I’m waiting for someone… anyone… to hold the jerk accountable for what he did. And I have yet to see it happen.

It certainly hasn’t come from his family, who turned their backs on me the second this whole thing happened. Not a single in-law reached out to me to see if I was okay… to offer prayers… to offer support… to offer love. I suppose he had told them any number of lies to take the responsibility off himself, and so they figured it wasn’t their place to “interfere”. Still… you spend 6 years with this new, make-shift family and they turn around and walk away the second things get tough. They probably have more loyalty to the family accountant than to anyone who gets screwed over by their beloved son and brother. Plus, the fact that they’re “okay” with their son and brother screwing people over says volumes about them as a family.

Shared friends certainly have been too afraid to say anything. They don’t want to “take sides”. It’s comments like that that make me want to gouge my eyes out with rusty metal spoons. Take sides? TAKE SIDES?! I suppose, they’ve listened to his crap and his lies about “having problems for some time” and about the girl being “just a good friend”. I’m sure he’s told them it was me who didn’t want to work things out. They see this as a two-sided kind of thing. There aren’t two sides. There’s the truth and there’s his version. There were never any major problems in this marriage (none that would lead to divorce anyway)… the girl was more than just a “good friend”… he refused to work things out because he refused to cut ties with his “good friend”. There’s right and there’s wrong. Screwing your wife of 6 years over to pursue your own selfish needs is just plain wrong. Why won’t someone hold him accountable for his actions?!

Even the so-called “Christian” counselor he was seeing didn’t hold him accountable. According to the ass-hat, all the counselor did was sit and listen and help him sort through his feelings so he could make a decision that would make him “happy”. Either the ass-hat is lying about that, or this counselor had no right counseling anyone in matters of marriage.

No one… not a single person… has held him accountable for his actions. No one has slapped him upside the head and told him, “Dude, that was a really shitty thing to do.” No one has questioned his motivations and his version of events. No one has had it out with him and asked what the hell is the matter with him, who does he think he is?!

And honestly? That’s all I want. I just want him to see and understand the pain and devastation and turmoil he has caused. And okay, I want him to hurt as badly as I do. I don’t necessarily want vengeance, but I do want vindication.

I know I may not get it. Even if someone does hold him accountable and I am vindicated, I may never know about it… and I have to live with that. But right now… any amount of vindication and accountability would really feel nice.

*sigh*