The truth and a star trail of possibility.

Last years most treasured birthday gift was the truth.  It was a year ago today I discovered the real man I had married.  Last year on August 3^rd, the night before our four-year wedding anniversary, my then husband told me he didn’t want to have children.  Those of you that know me can attest to my dreams of having kids of my own and my outspoken nature on this subject.  I knew when he said those words to me it was over; he knew saying those words to me our marriage would be over. Although it was no longer about children but the person sworn to be my life partner just told me he would not support one of my most cherished dreams.  After days of numbness and swollen eyes my birthday came upon us.  We kept up pretenses and he took me to dinner and his daughter did a wonderful job trying to make it what a birthday should be.  Then a few days later there it all was on his computer, the typical office assistant affair.  His complete lack of balls and any semblance of truth really would have made the children thing an issue.  Hence last years birthday wasn’t really a birthday, I think my wish was to get through a day with out having an emotional breakdown especially in public where everyone says the obligatory “have a good day”.  Right about now I would probably jokingly say something quirky about not counting it and turning 36 again.  This last weekend was the preseid meteor shower, my birthday and a trip to Wenatchee with friends.  The immense lightness I felt in my mind and in my heart watching bursts of light trail across the sky was magical.  If the universe can create this enchanting and captivating moment it gives me the feeling that anything is possible in my own life.  I know it’s my rose tinted glasses and growing up as a Disney delusional kid the “when you wish upon a star” and all.  Coming full circle from the dissolution of what was my marriage, heaviness, pain and difficulty to liberation, happiness and a world of possibility.  This birthday I appreciate a little more than the rest, I grew in ways I never knew were possible.  This year I celebrated with great people, laughter, surrounded by the mountains with falling stars and knowing that my life is limitless, just how a birthday should be. Over the past year recognizing and rediscovering that I have an amazing family and incredible friends that support and nudge me to fulfill my dreams is the best gift ever.  While I love a present ultimately I treasure and cherish the unwrap-able kind.  This year was a very happy birthday.

So this is happy :)

Back into my daily routine after several trips, I get up early play with the dog at the beach and hit yoga.  Then off to work where I am being creative and challenged all in good ways.  After work hooking up with friends, family, neighbors and dates.  I am the one next to you on the freeway rocking out in my car, singing in the shower, dancing at the bowling alley, endlessly laughing and smiling.  And of course there was that really fun make out session.  In therapy the other day I mentioned that I thought I might be walking down a bad path of being immature, irresponsible, not focusing on the future or possibly reliving my early 20’s.  My therapist laughed and said you aren’t doing drugs, you aren’t abusing alcohol, you have an incredible career, a strong network of family and friends, take care of your furry dependents and financial obligations….did you happen to think that you just might be happy.  You are living in the present.  There is a feeling of enlightenment and it finally hits me, this is what all the ancient proverbs, yoga books and many writers attempt to describe.  Of course the over comfy couches, the warm room and I start tearing up.  How could I have forgotten what true happiness felt like?  How could I have gone so long on edge in a strange paradigm that was my artificial marriage?  Imagine spending one more minute, even one more second in my unbeknownst sham of a world and missing out on these moments.  It hurt like hell to find out, my now ex-husband, had an eight month affair and cheated throughout our relationship.  It has been embarrassing, shameful and I still hate that I was so naïve.  Throughout this horrible journey I knew that discovering the infidelity was the best thing that could have ever happened.  I never knew it would lead me here to happy, an old friend I had lost for quite sometime.  Living in the present is a true gift and yes, ultimately would like a partner, another house to call mine, and of course kids.  But right now I am joyful and know true happiness.  Thank you again to my incredible family and friends, you mean the world to me.  That’s right happiness and I are back together again. We just friended each other on facebook and we’ll be posting our instagram photos together soon.  I think the toaster filter will capture this occasion perfectly.  

I kissed a guy and I liked it!

Mom and Dad please skip out on this one.

When I was younger I adored making out with boys, as several of you may know.  That first look you share that has a spark, the shy lowering of the eyes, the quick look back, the decision to initiate a conversation, the flipping of the hair, the light touch on an arm, I adored flirting.  What woman hasn’t seen every episode of Sex and the City?  It was always fun to identify which character you aligned with in their different encounters of the opposite sex.  My story doesn’t include any of the posh restaurants, glossy conversation and not one piece of clothing, shoes or even a handbag you would find in Carrie’s closet.  I happened to be traveling for work and met up with a friend just to hang out and catch up on life.  She had some great friends in this little town and we hung out with several through out the day, some of them guys but I never really thought anything of it.  As many of you know through my previous posts, I’ve seen a few guys here and there and appreciated their good looks and well toned physiques (I love yoga).  Through these many months and almost a year of being separated and then divorced I hadn’t really thought of physically being with anyone.  Yes I have been on a few dates but was still petrified of just dating that the idea of it really “going” anywhere was a complete void in my mind.  The goal was just to make it through the awkward first meet, do we shake hands, do we hug, and the hope that the conversation won’t have those long uncomfortable silences.  I never thought about the end of any of these dates either, I couldn’t even wrap my head around could there or would there be a kiss.  Just writing this I am already feeling clammy and sweaty with the prospect of what could be.  Being out with this girlfriend and her friends was a blast, hilarious conversation, dancing all night and no expectations.  All of a sudden a wrapped arm finds it’s way around me pulling me close and I am a bit startled.  He is much younger but I don’t pull away, it feels nice.  I haven’t had an arm around me like that in what feels like forever.  I am smart enough to know this really doesn’t have anything to do with me there really weren’t any sparks all day and night that we hung out.   There was inner turmoil, a Charlotte type voice in my head, mentally checking to make sure I played by the rules.  Reconciling that I was an adult, officially divorced and could do what I want.  But that arm and being close to a guy was great so I turned around and I kissed him. I didn’t care if there was or was not a real connection and sadly didn’t care what this guy thought, I just wanted to make out.  I finally reconnected with a tiny bit of my inner Samantha.  I find it fascinating and mind boggling that I still had trepidation kissing a man well after being divorced.  How was my ex-husband able to do this, much more and even carry on a relationship while being married?  All I know now, who cares!  Those sweet kisses reminded me, I can do what I want, and I am attached to no one.  I know I titled this blog with this statement but I am saying it again….I kissed a guy and I liked it!  

Mad Men vs. Morality

I make mistakes, I stumble on my path, at times I can be a bitch and it all comes down to intentions and actions.  I read this great satirical about the characters on Mad Men, what really makes a good or bad person?  Do intentions count, or are we defined by our actions? We deal with personal morality daily, the struggle to stay true to those we have built, we toil over redefining our morals as we open our minds to new information and experiences and we strain to reconcile, accept, appreciate and tolerate others principals.  It only seemed absolutely right and natural for me to continue my incredible relationship with his daughter.  It’s been almost a year since I discovered that I had stepped back into this trendy retro world of the 60’s and my life was altered by womanizing, sexism, and an archaic patriarchal entitlement all of which was a complete surprise to me.  Hmmm am I more of a Betty Draper or Trudy Campbell?  The last few months of our life together, I took care of his daughter more like June Cleaver than anyone on Mad Men.  I didn’t choose not to be her step mom.  My dream a year ago today was that I would be pregnant with a brother or sister for her and felt so excited that she would be living with us and we could be a family.  Hoping her mom would end up staying in California that we could all live within a few blocks and become one of the new modern quintessential American families.  There is something to a Mad Men/ Modern Family drama-edy, Madmily, Madern, Famen.  Brilliant, I know.  It’s going to need a ton of re-writes with the lack of swagger from a Don Draper or Roger Sterling type main character who at least struggle and have some angst during their moral crises.  The lack of integrity and veracity in the Pete Campbell-ish main character of my story would get old fast.  Back to my real life story, I love his daughter more than anything and asked his parents if she could come out to visit during her summer break.  I didn’t clearly express what I was willing and not willing to pay for.  Of course I would be funding all that we did and ate while she was here and I assumed either his family or him would pay for her transportation.  While I thought we were a “real” family I paid her school fees, school supplies, doctor co-pays, contributed towards furniture, bedding, and most of the day-to-day food, shampoo and all the while he spent money on hotels, dinners and lingerie (of course non of which was for me).  I would love nothing more than to continue to be a positive force in her life but she is not mine.  Therefore after several emails of determining the miscommunication I had to call her and tell her we could not make it work right now.  He walked away from everything.  I moved, found a new place to live, a new job, new furniture, rebuilt my life, still stumbling to establish a new and different relationship with his family, and here I am for the first time disappointing his daughter.  Ugh, I couldn’t make it through the call with out crying and of course she cried.  He doesn’t have to try and keep a relationship with anyone in my life and he doesn’t have to talk to my family.  Yet here I am tackling my good intentions and actions, which have lead to difficult conversations with his daughter and family.  It would be so much easier to Mad Men this.  Sit in my office, down a couple of whiskey’s through out the day, find someone to take advantage of and never create a deep and meaningful relationship with family, friends, colleagues or lovers.  To answer the original question, intentions and actions are mutually important to determine our inherent decency.  All of us that have the best of intentions will manifest those into at least a few acts of decent reality.  The difficult, awkward, challenging conversations and situations are only moments on my intentional chosen path to a meaningful life.  Divorced and deliberate in my choices, maybe I am more of Joan Harris.  Sans the sleeping with married men or someone to save a company.  Although I do see some gorgeous and vixenish curve hugging sheaths in my future. 

A Bloke

My obvious lack of blogging has had to do with a few work trips and one incredible vacation with the family to Ireland and Scotland.  It was a little cold and rainy but nothing a woman from Seattle especially with my career can’t handle.  I would call it the land of people, pubs and pints.  Okay the history, countryside, small towns and the fact that every dish comes with chips is pretty good too.  What I realized, we don’t have enough blokes in the US.  I appreciate that it is just a UK term for a guy or man but it’s more than that for this woman.  There is no better term to describe the type of man I am looking for other than bloke.  A manly man, a guy that is into sports but not obsessively and will turn his head away from “the game” and focus on what you are saying if you happen to start talking.  A guy that has real guy friends, barbeques, likes meat and beer but would never forget the all important salad and wine for you when gathering provisions.  A man that if you were in a possible physically combative situation could protect you, hold his own, but is smart and talented enough to verbally diffuse the situation and establish peace.  A man that wants to take care of his woman and will always open the door, pick you up for the date and pick up the check.  A real man that has more tools than I do, knows how to use them, notices what needs fixing and fixes it without being asked.  A real man that loves his wife and family and puts them above all else and would never forsake that by jeopardizing it in anyway.  I know it’s that last line that means the world to me.  Hmmm a new online dating profile name Blokeless in Seattle?  Yes that was really bad and could only be paired with a mobile phone bathroom mirror picture and that will never happen.  I am sure if there really was a man or men that could fulfill all of the above they would have their own special week on the Animal Planet.  Although airing the region, habitat, feeding rituals and daily activities would annihilate the bloke species quickly.  I am sure the amount of women flocking to the “bloke region” would be astronomical.  The carbon foot print plus green house gases emitting from all of the Women’s primping tools would create an immediate global warming situation followed by a bloke extinction.  What I do know is that I haven’t run into many or any “blokes” or single manly type men in Seattle.  They are either emo skinny jeans wearing, tatted with beanies (been there done with that), or based on my last weekend balding w/ stringy kid rock hair to the waist with the strategically side cut holes in his t-shirt or toothless or wearing fisherman boots at midnight on a warm Saturday night.  I think I’ll keep traveling. 

My first real date in 14 years.

Holy crap.  I am saying it again holy crap.  I made a date to meet someone for a drink from eharmony.  It’s not that fun excited feeling I had in my twenties.  I have never been intimidated by men or dating. Approaching this inevitable life path after finding out I never really knew my husband, the man I intimately shared my life with for almost eight years, is terrifying.  The prep is all the same things what will I wear, am I going to have a good hair day, will I wake with a dreaded zit and do I shave my legs.  The thoughts behind each of these essentials are different.  Will what I am wearing help me to look 10 pounds lighter (although hoping for 20) and where are my spanx.  A good hair day revolves around I hope he doesn’t notice it’s thinning although he never saw the luscious thick main of yester year.  Maybe a monstrous zit wouldn’t be a bad thing, it may take away from the dark circles, crows feet and laugh lines.  Actually I don’t really have to shave my legs, the one good thing about age is you do get to take advantage of technology advancements and lasers have done wonders on unwanted hair.  Never really thought it would take some anxiety out of the dating prep.  Let’s face it; I never thought I would be dating.  Obviously the fleeting initial excitement has turned to anxiousness.  In my youth I would have obsessed on the anticipation and excitement, that day it was absolute avoidance of thought.  Finally in my car after work my nerves took over and I became a bit dazed.  With my mind a little pre-occupied I actually rear-ended someone.  It was a bump at stoplight and nothing happened to either car and the older gentleman was very kind.  Seriously my first date in forever and I rear-end someone, now not only nervous but shaky. Made it home, walked the dog, make up touch up, although no eye-liner since my hands are shaking, changed my clothes and put on two layers of t-shirts to avoid the nervous pit out.  Yes guys we do that too.  I was happy to find myself at the bar first, I am sure I would have tripped or made an ass out myself somehow walking in second.  We had an awkward partial hug greeting; I was still kind of sitting trying to stand when he came in for the hug.  The conversation went well and although there was the initial anxiety the whole premise of the date was a good.  In my twenties I was so concerned with the guys liking me and now in my late thirties it’s all about me liking them.  He was a nice enough guy but there was no connection and his passions and interests weren’t very intriguing to me.  My thought afterwards was phew I made it through that.  It was an enormous relief and I wanted nothing more from him or the situation.  Although a few days later when he closed our match I still felt a little rejected but age has it’s blessing, besides laser technology.  Again in my twenties I would have fixated on the wonderment of why he wasn’t interested and now it was just a fleeting moment no more than a brief thought or two of the dismissal.  He wasn’t what I wanted and I know my worth.  A huge fist pump and ear-to-ear smile for making it through this first one.  I got this…..next.

Let the eharmony embarrassment begin.

That’s right I got on eharmony.  Spent a few hours filling out the questions and low and behold here come the matches and the clumsy humiliation.  The first few matches it’s fun to look at pictures and lament with your friends over the inept pictures straight men put on a dating website.  Pictures with other women seriously if it’s your family make a caption, if not you really think I want to date you and your brood.  Hell no.  The awkward poses at theme parks with either Donald Duck or Chuckie, yes the serial killing doll.  A close match immediately situation.  The inability to successfully work photo shop by cropping the latest or long ago girlfriend out of the travel pic.  Did you really think we couldn’t see those wisps of hair next to your face and shoulder raised as if over someone else?  The buddy shots with your crew and an insane amount of drinks in hand, yes we want you to be social but more than one of those, I feel like I will be dating you and having to take care of your friends.  The most horrific is the cell phone picture in the mirror.  Seriously!!!  You would be shocked it’s not just one or two it’s about every fifth guy that has a picture like this. Have they not seen the news that those shots are always linked to a sex scandal?  It is not okay, really it’s frightening and all I can think is crap they have my picture, ew.  Onto the matching, Seattle is a big enough city I really didn’t consider that I would get matched with people I know.  Oh yes the mortification has begun, in less than one week I was matched with two people I knew and a friends brother.  Yep they looked at my profile and of course they know it’s me.  One I definitely had to email and find a way to make it less awkward.  We are obviously not close enough to call but we know quite a few mutual people, several who know my ex, and if I don’t own this and make it a non-issue I am sure he will share it with others.  I have to face this.  I email him and laugh it off with asking him to advise me on my eharmony innocence and needing an e-wingman.  After several “matches’ have attempted to contact me I only keep less then a handful in my reserve and decide if those choice few make some sort of virtual attempt, I will respond.  One does so we exchange an email or two, then a second.  The second man happens to know something about my weekend that I hadn’t shared with him and all I can do is freak over how we may know each other.  He tells me it was actually his friend the only other man I had emailed on eharmony.  How does this happen? The only two guys I have exchanged emails with are buddies.  I am not cut out for this.  What happened to the days when a guy buys a girl a drink or stops her on the street or just asks for her number?  Okay I get that was 14 years ago and things have changed but my start in this virtual dating realm does not seem to be going so well.  

The online dating username dilemma.

Now that it is official, I might as well get back out there.  Everyone knows you have to come up with a user name for online dating sights.  We all know on other sites with ecommerce, banks, utilities most let you use your email but some you try a name and try a name and number combo and you get the red marked failed attempt since that user name is already taken.  We have all come up with our cute, hip or funny combos that mean something to us personally knowing really no one will see them.  Well what if someone you possibly would want to date saw it with out knowing you?  If you have any dignity in yourself you are going to put some thought into it, I hope.  Is it a movie quote from one of your favorite films?  Is it focused around something you love? Might not be a good time to mention I like cats and learned how to knit.  Focusing on my love of shopping might make me sound like a gold digger, so time to google “creating usernames”.  Some sights generate one for you here are a few JaddedKitten (crazy young woman),  RustyTreasure (yikes how old am I), MidnightJewel (can anyone say stripper).  Obviously that didn’t work.  Of course I’ll put two things I love together travel and yoga or maybe my dog.  RadiantVoyage- wow wrong message, ZenGlobe-I still can’t figure out the 9 different recycling bins at work and I wax my underarms so that’s out, MilesBeyond- that sounds pretentious or just old.  This took much longer then I thought and after extensive attempts anything having to do with a dog or pet sounds beyond wrong.  I did find something I thought worked and it will be the one thing I keep to myself.  Finally after some serious effort I get online and start poking around at dating sights and can’t believe the names the guys have posted.  I categorized them into five major groupings.  The “sports fan” group; soundersfan1456, marinersfan4765, hawksfan356, etc.  Okay great you want all the women to see you are into sports but it’s clear over the years it has evolved into a spectator only participation.  The “too much info” user name group, this isn’t necessarily bad but the trickiest since you leave it up to interpretation.  Examples: jetsetbohemian- you’ll never be home or available for a date, beattlejim- if that’s like beattlejuice that could be funny or you may like a bugs, wineandgrillin- sounds good but you put too much thought into what would get the ladies,  pbnjsammich- cute but are you looking for woman who will cut the crust off the sandwich too.  The obligatory “career” user name group, crabman432, curator245, professormike, fireguy42, you get the picture. Before my own foray into developing a user name I would have questioned this groups efforts but now understand why they may have gone this route.  The “generic” user name group.  jim_786, shawn_040, bill_bothel, james_seattle, etc.  The last group the one that frightens, shocks and best of all makes me laugh, the “self-centered” user name group.

Dreamcometrue- seriously?

Redhotspankin- do any women actually respond to him?

Gettoit- just a little pushy.

Justplayin- at least he is honest.

Sir_mike- really you think everyone should call you Sir?

feralboy80- wow there is more than one using this name he had to use a number, frightening.
Ultra2000- can anyone guess who works out A LOT and might be on steroids?

Outoftouch- that’s how sell yourself?

GenuineMan- should I be worried or wonder why you have to state you are real man?
Karmabomb- really those two words shouldn’t be used together.

Decisevelyalive- wow glad the antidepressants are working?

mfn_rockstar- obviously you want a groupie and are looking for women between ages of 21-25 (might I add he is 37).

I have to say after this glimpse into the online dating arena, I am slightly envious of my committed and married friends.  Judging and grouping these individuals is unconsidered and imprudent .  Although it is my first glimpse into this person and how they chose to represent themselves. Overwhelmed, astounded and somewhat excited here I go on completely new adventure.

A Runke no longer.

I am extremely happy to feel like this journey has come to an end and I have my true name back.  Signing everything with his last name the first few months was a complete slap in the face multiple times a day but as the months crawled by it bothered me less and less.  There is a huge sense of freedom that comes by reclaiming who I am and leaving behind the name of a person that treated me so horribly.  The few things that kept me from loosing it and bawling my eyes out when signing his last name at starbucks, the grocery store, every lunch or dinner out, at the therapists, the signing of my lease, was his family.  I am still baffled at his lack of integrity, values and compassion that the other namesakes possess.  His father a savvy business man who is a great listener, supportive and kind.  I adored our morning chats.  It became a cherished routine whenever we visited and something I always looked forward too.  His mom always surprises me with her energy, enthusiasm and positivity for every moment in her life.  The time she gives to the grandkids by playing games for hours and including them in the everyday mundane activities and making it fun for them.  Her's is a tremendous skill that so many people and families are lacking these days.  The one major regret over the last year was not being there for his mother when going through a leg amputation because of cancer.  I get that my husband and I were not connecting and through out the health difficulties with his mom, I tried to work every angle to be supportive to him.  I was so focused on him and the lack of us but now I know he was already invested in someone else. I let him dictate and impeded my involvement, instead of owning my own relationship with her.  I really love her and should have been there.  His sister who is a shinning example of an amazing wife and mother.  The most important of the namesakes is his daughter.  She is growing into an astonishing lady.  I know I am not her mother and will never measure up to her, in her eyes, but I really did enjoy sharing the same name with a fantastic girl.  She is compassionate, determined, confident and silly.  It warmed my heart whenever anyone mistook her as being my child.  It happened more often when we shared the same last name and having someone assume this kind and dynamic little girl was mine, felt like an honor.  While I am thrilled to be who I am again and the dissolution will not severe my relationship with his family, I will miss the named connection to these admirable people I value and love.

Am I a Cougar?

I was out with an amazing friend the other night, one of my only single friends. We met up for drinks and several appetizers, of course.  After we were there for quite some time, I looked around the bar and it was filled with middle-aged women out on the prowl.  They might have been maybe a few years older then us but not much and I seriously thought, I am in a batch of cougars.  I couldn’t help but think, oh crap am I one of them.  I am a middle aged almost divorced (at the time) at a bar with a girlfriend, if I am under 40 does it count.  I had to look up the definition.   To my surprise there are a thousand different types of “cougars”.  All agree it’s a woman that is looking for a younger man, okay phew I am not looking for anyone younger.  But there are cougacorns, cougaraptors, cougar kittens, and the cougar dance, which is my favorite.  The "dance" move reserved for intoxicated older women that think they are still sexy. The move starts with a very slow gyrating of the hips, while slowly extending the arms toward the sky. The eyes typically remain closed for the entirety of the performance. It is commonly seen at concerts by artists that are past their prime or cover bands of artists that are past their prime.  Ummmm I’ll admit I have done that move for years and crap I am sure it looked as bad as it sounds.   Even when I wasn’t sure what a cougar meant I didn’t want to be associated with the “cougar” group.  I said to my friend “I feel like we are panthers in a cougar world”.  I had no idea what the urban dictionary definition for panther was, I just pulled a cat name out of the hat.  I don’t really want to generalize or lump myself into a group but I can’t help but think what kind of cat am I.  A mountain lion is an unattractive woman looking for a younger man.  An ocelot the under 40 year old woman looking for a younger man.  Lynx a text based web browser.  Jaguar is a woman over 50 looking for a younger man.  A tiger is just a tiger.  A puma is like the ocelot.   A cheetah is a man trolling for younger women or a married man who cheats on his wife with much younger women.  A panther had several definitions a woman going after older men, a gay man going after a younger man and a lesbian going after an older lesbian.  I guess I am really not any type of cat and happy to know there is only one cat in my house Knuckles. This is going to be a hilarious adventure when I actually start dating and I will be staying far away from the cougar candy.  Although I can’t guarantee complete abstinence of the cougar dance especially after a few pinot grigios.

Absolute elation.

It’s officially over signed and sealed by a California judge.  I happened to be on vacation in Palm Springs with some girlfriends and it could not have been a better time.  I had given the legal team my parents address for written communication as when I moved back in September I had no idea where I would land.  After a few days by the pool, sunshine, good food, drinks and a great day of shopping my mom called to let me know there was a large white envelope from the State of California.  I told her to open it and there it was all signed.  To put into words my ecstatic and jubilant moment, does not do it justice.  I am still smiling ear to ear.  I can’t thank the girls enough for celebrating one of the most important and delightful moments in my life.  It was a million times better then being a teenager and freaking over NKOTB and scaling a fence at the Puyallup fair to see their sound check.  In the weeks leading up to the end, I was apprehensive about this moment.  The entirety of this ordeal, the dissolution of my marriage, has been volatile and erratic with emotion for months.  Would I be sad, angry, pained, dejected, or irritated?  I was utterly elated.  If someone would have told me it would be even better then the moment Donnie Wahlberg pulled me out of an audience at the mall to sing cover girl to me, I know I would not have believed it.  Maybe the enlightened moment in my life will be this one, the eradication of malevolence.  The journey was one I had to experience on my own with the amazing support of family and incredible friends.  Thanks to all of you who have sent your kind words in my moments of despair and encouraged my integrity in those flickers of weakness.  It is weird to feel so much from just a signature on a piece of paper, I am not sure what it says about me that I couldn’t let go until it was signed and recognized by a court, for me tangible and real.  I shouldn’t say let go, I immediately let go upon the discovery of the affair.  I moved states and started a new life and ceased all communication between us.  We were as separated as two people could be but there was a legal thread that linked us together.  On the flip side, many people say marriage is just a piece of paper, it’s truly how you live and share your lives but there was something in those short vows for me, something in that commitment, the signed certificate that I believed in the tradition of marriage.  That piece of paper meant something special to me and I never knew divorce papers would be just as special. Now onto living a full life of honesty, integrity and still believing in love.  Not a teenage Donnie Wahlberg or Taylor Lautner crush or a false love built on years of lies.  Onto true man crushes….Gerard Butler Palm Springs was magical.   So what if he had no idea I was at the same bar.  Walking down the path of dissolution and experiencing it fully with every high and low has lead me to ultimate freedom. Welcome back Melissa, welcome back.         

Happiness in the present is only shattered by a comparison of the past.

It was the complete cliché the young 23 year old girl, the office “assistant” that sleeps with the married man.  There I was the unsuspecting and devoted wife.  Several have asked how I felt about the “younger” woman.  The other cliché is the portrayal of the wife lamenting over her age and jealousy over the mistresses youth.  Her age and youth never really crossed my mind.  I am sure she was probably thinner, her booty probably firmer, her skin probably smoother, and her hair probably thicker.  None of that ever really bothered me, I may be getting older but no one will ever have a better rack then me J  Okay for real it wasn’t about her or me I can only live one cliché at a time.  She could have been anyone therefore there is nothing special or amazing about her.  He never wanted a true connection or real relationship, then he would have to be honest about himself a selfish, money obsessed, arrogant and pompous fame follower.  Can she really be that great of a person with the knowledge of him being married the majority of the time they have been together.  I do not know a decent or good person who would knowingly sleep with someone that was married.  I am sure he told her and many others all sorts of great lies about us and our marriage to try to justify his actions.  I was initially surprised at her continued affection towards a man that abandons his family and child.  Although the ease and speed in finding her families contact information, during my recent lack of morality, stemmed from her internet plea to find her own father.  Maybe having another father leave his family and child for her is the ultimate sign of love and that is why she tweeted a picture of them stating, “I win”.   There is no competition for a morally devoid, malicious, deceitful, conniving and habitual liar who manipulates situations to be, as he wants.  She is just another body for him, just another person he can easily influence and trample when she doesn’t fit in with the partying, VIP lists, money, his charade of success.  A person that contributes and encourages a parent to abandon their child is heinous.  And don’t think for a second I put this on her, these are his choices and this blog would be a million posts long describing how horrendous I think his choices are.   But she had a part in all of this, although she could have been anyone, that is why I never physically, emotionally or mentally compared myself to her.   She will never amount to the woman I am.  Yes I failed in my marriage but it never had a chance with the duplicitous lies.  I am successful in my career and most importantly my true relationships.  Loyal, thoughtful, caring, responsible, supportive, joyful, compassionate, and moments of mischief. All of that and with a great rack ;) Maybe that is how I should start my online dating profile, when I make one.  That would be sure to get a date or two.  Damn it okay I get it that’s where I go haywire with attracting the wrong guys.  At least it’s better then “enjoys cheating, sleeping with married men, contributing to the divorce rate and encouraging father abscentism”.

The classic tale-girl meets boy, boy breaks girl's heart.

Planes and therapists offices have the same affect on me, I get emotional.  Although you cannot tell from this blog as I have put all my emotions out there, I am truly not one for outward emotion.  My kryptonite is planes and therapists.  On a fourteen-hour flight across the globe I get teary watching a plethora of different types of movies.  A few years ago at 30,000 feet there I am eyes filled with tears when Dora and Marlin get separated in Finding Nemo.  It’s ridiculous, I had seen the movie before, it’s animated and really when the movie title is Finding Nemo, you know they will find him.  I think it has something to do with the temperature always being a little warm, a small space, and pumping oxygen.   As the finality of the divorce gets closer I am finding myself a bit unsettled.  It’s a mixed bag of grief for the loss of hopes and dreams in my marriage, frustration over wanting justice, fear of getting back “out there” and embarrassment at my blindness.  Therefore I head back to therapy.   Before this major event in my life I hadn’t really sought out anyone to analyze my thoughts or feelings.  I am mostly happy go lucky and pretty good at handling life.  Although all of their offices are the same small and cozy, well heated and the standard issue comfy couch with Kleenex box in reach.  I am completely generalizing as I have only been to three, a move, a change in insurance companies and here I am telling my story to a therapist for the third time.  Squished and settled in the comfy couch and warm cozy room I tear up.  It’s a little deeper than being on a plane shedding tears over a clown fish.  I explain how annoyed I am by the glimpse I took into their lives several weeks ago and how frustrated I am with myself.  One that I caved and looked but the other is that they seem to live a normal life spending a romantic weekend in Catalina, I had asked him to take me there a thousand times.   I wouldn’t go with him now for a million dollars but why am I annoyed.  The therapist says three words, you loved him.  I have been so focused on the betrayal, lies and manipulation that I lost sight of the real reason I am hurt is because I loved him.  With the end in sight I have to grudgingly admit that I loved a man I did not really know and one who’s actions I abhor.  When you take away all of the layers here sits a girl with a broken heart.  

"I gave her my heart, she gave me a pen" Lloyd

In light of the Oscars this last week, whether or not you ogle the gowns or sigh at the trying to be funny but not funny moments, the commentary from celebrities on why they enjoy or what they think makes a great movie was interesting.  There was a thread that focused on the truth.  The truth of the characters and staying true to the story.  So here is my “you can’t handle the truth” I suck as a person moment.  I guess I am not as strong or together as I thought now that my life has changed so drastically and the end is in sight.  I moved to another state, found a new home, enlivened old friendships, found new friends, new bed, new underwear, new yoga studio and landed a new dream job.  After the twitter incident, I haven’t been back to view their feed, yet my mind is still overwhelmed by the normalcy of their lives.  The truth is there is no justice and it is not the American way.  I grew up with the movies where the underdog prevails and the hero overcomes the villain and we all know “don’t mess with the bull, young man, you’ll get the horns”.   As the end draws near, the lack of karma, them being struck by lightening, or better yet a horn, is beyond maddening.  Here is the truth of my character, with this provoked frustration; I decided to Google her family.   Go ahead gasp or if it was the movies you’d her the famous don don don.   I know, I know why am I wasting my time, what do I care, really it took just a few moments on the “world wide interweb”.  In contacting them I could warn them of this wicked character before he penetrates their family and creates another wave of emotional brutality.  I wish so badly someone would have warned me about him, although “life is like a box of chocolates you never know what you’re going to get”.  (Okay cheesy but it goes well with the movie theme.)  If I write to her family they would know his true nature and hopefully encourage their daughter to terminate their relationship. Ultimately hurting him, as she is the only thing he has, “sometimes being a bitch is all a woman has to hold on too”.  Hurting him won’t make a difference in my life.  A deep breath, a sigh, some great friends and a little Wooderson “you just gotta keep livin’ man, L-I-V-I-N”.  The truth and reality in this movie ending, I didn’t send anything to her family and they are riding off into the sunset.  There isn’t an underdog or hero in infidelity, it is a sad part of Americana but not the one I grew up with.  What is real is that I yet again find myself out of character to be someone I am not and once more disgracefully sharing the truth of my awful and weak moments in this story.  I bent trying to save my marriage and bent just a little trying to selfishly enact justice.  “There are two types of people in this world: those who like Neil Diamond, and those who don’t”.  When faced with the pain and hurt of betrayal and divorce it’s always good to remind yourself, who you are.  

The man who fears no truth, has nothing to fear from lies- Thomas Jefferson

The papers are getting somewhat close to final.  There is a mix of overwhelming elation and at the same time an uneasy sadness.  As I am sure you have all guessed, the angst is not about him or any regrets of leaving or immediately ending our marriage.  It is more a grief for the loss of the marriage I wish I had had.  Failing at something, even if I now know, it probably never would have worked, does not feel all that great either.  I have been caught in this strange darkness between the sun setting on a life filled with lies and betrayal.  Now I live in that hazy glow of Twilight when the moon and stars have set, the water takes on the color of indigo and the sky is a hazy warm blue grey.  There are not any vampires or werewolves here, there was an evil to this story but I got far away as soon as I saw his true nature.  No team Edward or Jacob.  What I face now are the wonders of what my life may hold.  In finalizing the last of the papers there were emails sent between the mediator, para-legal and my soon to be ex.  His response email was terse and clearly said he was only in town one day the next week to provide what they were asking.  Their response stated he would need to sign more items.  With in a few hours his next correspondence he stated he would be in town all of next week and be available.  I had to laugh.  There was no point or reason to lie to the people facilitating our divorce.  I have struggled over the past months reconciling with how easily he lied and manipulated my life.   Mulled over our life together to understand when it may have started, how many women, our moments together, our moments apart and how I came to be where I am now.  It’s crazy to think I will never know the truth of my last almost eight years with this person.  This simple lie between him and the divorce team was absurd and unnecessary.  I can only surmise that lies flow so readily from him, in everything he does.  This is going to sound crazy but I finally felt “not alone”.  My family and friends have been an amazing source of support and all have tried to offer the comforting words of, “you are not alone”.  Yeah I know, 50% of marriages end in divorce. I have reconnected with a few friends and we have lamented over our shared experience of divorce.  Although I still felt isolated as each situation is unique.  This nonsensical and pointless lie from him to our divorce team was the moment I finally didn’t feel alone.  I realize I was most likely one of a very large group of people he so effortlessly and has continuously lied to.  If he lied to his wife and divorce facilitators, I can only naturally assume it extends to friends, family, colleagues, business associates, daughter and I can clearly prove to the mistress.  Especially after seeing a large portion of their communication. The enlightenment from this moment is the “was”, unlike anyone else still in his life; I have eradicated myself from that group.  Okay, I’ll admit I’m on team Jacob.  The truth is the sun is going to rise and I will cherish watching the sky light up in all its magnificent hues.  If there happens to be a guy that looks like Jacob with a hot cappuccino that appears on that sun filled horizon, I'll take it. Oh add a chocolate croissant.

Waiting, not so patiently.

Valentines day is going to suck no mater how hard I try to focus on the positive.  That’s what happens when you find your husband’s Skypes with his mistress and read through most of them.  It doesn’t bother me that they are together this year but I keep thinking about the Skypes I read from last February about the lingerie he purchased her.  The wife didn’t even get a card last year and I also didn’t know about her until August and that was last February. Then of course tonight I get the final papers to sign so they can be sent to the judge, but the kicker it stated it would be another 6 to 8 weeks before it will be absolutely final.  Yeah happy valentines day.  I guess it was more than I got last year and it is good to know there will be an end.  Glad that I have a few bottles of wine on hand. Seriously Saint Valentine if you don’t come up with an amazing 2013 I will come after your adorable little cherub ass.  I was getting excited about dating and started checking guys out (even outside of my yoga classes).  Even purchasing speed dating tickets for myself and a very supportive and brave friend.  I know I don’t have to wait, obviously he never did, but I really don’t want to go on a date holding his last name.  That’s right little mistress Racheal I am still his wife, I still hold his name but I can’t wait for you to fully win every part of him, sweetie you deserve it.  I really wanted to be the amazing person who can put it all behind them and not look back.  Hell I feel like I am handling it all pretty well, I am not in rehab like Demi and didn’t go after him with a golf club like Elin.  I wish I could channel my inner Sandra or Aniston and be above it all, but the news of 6 to 8 more weeks is aggravating.  Maybe if I wasn’t lied to and manipulated for who knows how long, I could be above it.  But since I am not, they don’t get a free pass without consequences and it will be fun to remind them.  I am sure a few glasses of wine will illicit an appropriate and momentous tweet.  Phew, already feeling better after this ridiculous emotional rant.  Obviously I am not that excited about the manufactured holiday but I do love, love.  The moments that make your heart lurch, butterflies fill your tummy, weak knees and smiles bigger than a canyon.   Happy Valentines Day to those who are truly in love and don’t cheat.   

Objects of war and peace.

Two days after the fall off the twitter wagon, I was at the London Modern Museum of Art.  It was fun loosing myself in the different exhibits but one called objects of war by Lamia Joreige had a great impact.  The artist compiled a series of interviews about life during the Lebanese war.  Each person interviewed spoke about an object that reminded them most of the war.  Some of the items displayed were a guitar, teddy bear, perfume flask, photograph, a child’s drawing, among other everyday items.  Their different accounts of the memories they shared both good and bad were carried in these objects.  Life is incredibly curious as there is always something that quickly renders me back to what is important and truly matters.   Divorce isn’t easy and yes it plainly out right sucks but I live an amazing life.  I am not in a war zone and I have the ability to live in a part of the world where I have an abundance of freedom.  While I recognize my plight is trivial comparatively, I started thinking about my object of divorce.  He is tied to all of the items I moved from what I thought was “our” life and into my new life except one, my yoga mat.  It was propped by the door, I used it almost everyday, it was in “our” space but he never touched it or moved it.  Everyday my practice was my time, every time I stepped on my mat it was for me, every breath and movement was mine.  Throughout that last year I  strayed from who I was and began morphing into some cross between June Cleaver and a Stepford Wife to connect with my husband, take care of his daughter and save my marriage.  My yoga mat is the object I took relief in during this last year, it is the one portion of my life that was mine.   Everything else was for him.  Everyday my mat has challenged me to push deeper and farther to continually elevate my mental and physical strength.  It supported me through those darkest of days.  As I bowed into my first sun salutation, my tears would cease and my mind stopped thinking about “them”, what “they” had done, what “he” had done to me.  Yep I cried right there in class, not very June Cleaver like but no one judged.  I cried for the first few weeks at class and my mat gave me a space to process, escape and just be.  It is my solace, my pursuit but not one that has to be hidden from family, friends, husband or step-daughter.  My passion and dedication is to something healthy and respectable.  I am extremely grateful that I had a pastime that allowed me to escape from the chaos of all the emotion, change and turmoil.  Most importantly through the recent months it has brought me to a place of acceptance.  To accept who I am, that I failed at marriage, that I no longer own my own home, that I don’t have my own children, that I don’t have a partner in life, that I am clearly not June Cleaver or a Stepford and have never baked a pie.  Through yoga I have reconciled and taken responsibility for my own faults as well as found compassion for myself on this journey.  My mat is my object of peace.

The twitter aftermath.

As my last post mentioned I checked both their twitter feeds.  Incredibly annoyed at their half-truth of postings of a normal happy boyfriend and girlfriend.  Life is a full spectrum and it is interesting that through this social media we control the refraction that we allow others to see.  Even in this blog, yes I have been unabashedly transparent, but it only reflects one area of my life.  Their twitter chatter was intimate and cozy, I guess it should be they have been dating for well over a year, and he is still married.  Alright here are the juicy details you really checked the blog to see.  The second time I looked there was a post from her “I have been really into facebook again, and not twitter.  I feel like I am cheating”.  His response “don’t cheat….twitter is better”.  Seriously, like I could resist with those types of comments.  My response “you both are so good at it. Can’t wait to see who caves first”.  And of course another I couldn’t resist.  Her post from New Years was a picture of them that said, “I win”.  My response was “A lying, cheating, husband, you are so winning”.  I know I should have been the bigger person here but it felt good to remind them that their callous actions had an affect on many people’s lives.  A reminder that they possess an appalling capacity to manipulate, lie and hurt others so easily.  My actions here were selfish and obnoxious, the ugly refraction of who I can be. All the while smiling wickedly.  Now I am done and will continue on with my twitter sobriety.  

Ugh, I checked it.

Why, why, why did I do it.  I think after being at the trade shows and what was “our” life and a little hotel boredom, I felt I had to know what he was up to.  I know just two days ago I said I didn’t want to.  90+ days of twitter sobriety and I fell back in. Yep they are still together.  She is showing pictures of her “boyfriend” to the family.  Did she mention he is currently still married.  He made a comment to sleep in “our” bed, um wait you mean the one he shared with me his wife for eight years.  A failed marriage, cheating, lying, loosing full custody of his daughter and it doesn’t seem to phase them at all.  Liquor, drugs, sex and action sports wow they are so cool. I want nothing more than to write on their pages and say something nasty, but I don’t want to go back there.  I want to be a better person then that. He was sleeping and possibly cheating for years, is a twitter blast really that bad or even comparable.  Oh yoga teachings of zen and tranquility where are you hiding inside me?  I realize I fell of the enlightened wagon but I don’t think the ancient teachings ever covered twitter. All those things I mentioned about wishing him nothing, forget it.  Today is my fall, today is my slip but today I also wouldn’t mind if it happened to him literally.  Tomorrow is another day and I will focus on me not them.  Good thing I am going shopping in London, I need it.  I guess the ancient teachings didn’t cover retail therapy either, okay they completely frowned upon it.  I know it won’t gain me any real enlightenment but I can at least look cute trying to find my path back to peace, strength and wisdom wagon.

If you understand things are just as they are, if you do not understand things are just as they are.