Online dating in your 40s? "Uhh....merp!"

One of the great things about coming to the place that I am with my "singleness," almost three years post divorce, is that I've figured out that I am actually content and happy with my life just as it is. Along with this realization, comes a calmness that I have not yet felt before. Honestly, I haven't felt that calm feeling most of my adult life, if I were to think about it.

When you're busy having your children, you're too tired to self-reflect or feel anything other than exhausted and blissful at times, and overwhelmed at others. Watching a 20-year relationship crumble over the course of a few years and owning that failure also makes it impossible to reach calm contentment.

But, at long last, I am here. Life is pretty good. I can spend my weekends completely alone, and not fall into "the lonely funk." With that said, I also often fill my kid-free time with friends and fun, and that's great too.

So, it seemed really the ideal time to jump back into trying to date. My last relationship had ended about six months prior, and I took the time to just "be" for awhile. I truly did not want to date over that time at all. And, now, suddenly, I realized that I was ready to get back out there.

Diving into a free online dating site was necessary, because I was trying to keep focus on the financial strides that I've made in learning how to budget for myself. And, I'd had many friends try one particular site with fairly good luck. So, why not? Right?

What I have learned from this past month is that free online dating sites are a wacky, weird place. Scary at times even. And, you have to be smart, as a woman out there. Online dating "street" smarts develop quickly, fortunately.

My first batch of online messages that came in on the site were peppered with the cheesy lines that I expected. "Hey, sexy thang..." and "Your eyes speak to me" were among the eye roll inducing messages that I got, and to which I never replied. I am sorry, but I am not interested in a quick hookup, and the fastest way to make me delete your messages is with a cheesy line. Right now, my favorite profile summary line that I've seen simply contained the word, "Merp."

Yes, "merp" summarizes online dating and meeting people blindly for me. It's very "merpish." (Go look it up on Urban Dictionary if you aren't up on this term.)

But, what I did not expect from the early messages were the large percentage of ones from very young men--some of which looked not much older than my own 13-year-old son. Some tried to fake being older, with profiles saying they were 38, when clearly they were maybe 22 at best. Others were very direct with their requests,"I'm into older women. Do you like younger guys?" At first, it was funny. After getting a huge amount of these, I actually became somewhat disturbed.

So, there was that eye-opening bit of loveliness. As a mother of a teen son, I am now educated about this world and I can have a very frank discussion with my son about what NOT to do online.

But, also? Having dated someone seven years younger than me right after divorce, I learned some things about about younger men and have some certainty that, for the most part, I am not interested in going that much younger than 40 for a potential date/future partner. Falling for someone who doesn't yet know who they are or where they want to be in life, can be a painful experience, when you are are in a different place in your life.

But, what do the 40s bring to the table in terms of potential dates?

Well, it turns out they bring a whole lot of baggage. Baggage of every shape and size, in every possible pattern and color. Pardon my crassness when I say, holy HELL, is dating in the 40s complicated!

First, there are the flakes.. I have had more great conversations with guys over the dating site, to then have them just disappear randomly. Guys make a great joke or tell you how great you are, then just completely vanish. After speaking with a single guy friend of mine, I know that this phenomenon isn't just a man thing. Women are equally flaky and do the same thing, apparently.

I have to wonder if there is a bit of the "Seinfeld syndrome" going on out there, in single and 40's dating-land. I was huge fan of this show, but now that I am single, I almost think buying the box set and going back and watching each episode would be very eye-opening with my new perspective on life as a single. One thing that I do remember was that the characters on this show were all single, and each seemed to find something wrong with every person they tried to date.

I have to watch my own self with this as well:

"Well, he seems nice, but he keeps misspelling 'too' and 'to.' Can I, as a writer, really date this person?"

"Seriously, he has a bathroom mirror smart phone photo on his profile? I can't work with that."

"Shirtless photo? Um, no." (Same for the Ed Hardy tee, dude.)

I really am not that critical of a person, and I have said these things. But, the problem with online dating is that you are bombarded with a ton of profiles. How else do you single out the ones you are interested in, if you do not become somewhat critical and choosy?"

I have also learned the importance of a phone call before you meet someone. However,  you have to hold off on giving out your number too soon as well, to weed out the "playas." In fact, one of my errands today will be to buy a cheap prepaid phone, to avoid that whole dilemma in the future.

The worst part of it all, is never knowing if you're playing the online dating game with the right set of rules. There are so many different opinions out there. Case in point:

• Women should play hard to get, as men like a challenge and you will weed out the time wasters if you do. After all, if he really likes you, he will pursue you.
• You need to be approachable, because men can't tell if you are interested otherwise. Be friendly and interested, always. Remember you are competing with some really desperate/man-chasing types, so you have to give the guy SOME hint that you are interested.

As someone who never dated much during my younger life, all of this can make my brain bubble. I am only certain of one thing--that I have NO FREAKING CLUE what I am doing out there.

I have other stories that I could tell on this online dating experience, and I probably will share more soon. But, for now, I can say that my heart does go out to anyone who finds themselves older, single, and trying to "mingle." Because it is a weird world out there.

I realized that, the best I can hope for, is to rely on my solid gut instinct and hope that God continues to watch over me as I commute on the online dating freeways. There are bound to be some jams and frustrating detours along the way. Some times where I just laugh at the absurdity of it all. Most of all, I have to focus on the thankfulness that I feel to be in a place emotionally where I can now roll with things and see where they take me--without fear of ending up stranded in a ditch and down.

So, bring it, single guys. Let me see that baggage and see if it mixes with my own!

To be continued...

Just enough to get through...

I awoke with a start from a very solid dead man's kind of sleep. It was the type of waking where you realize you've just heard something significant and it jars you to an upright position right then and there. I swear, I'd distinctly heard my son calling "Mom! Mom!" Thirteen years of being someone's mother and you recognize these things.

There was one problem with this. My son was not at my home. He was at his father's with his sister for their 5-day stint as part of our split-custody arrangement.

I instantly felt the familiar and strong pangs of a mother who misses her children. I really thought that this would get easier by now. 

It has not.

After a quick search for the noise source, I determined it was not the cat, who seemed highly annoyed that I'd awoken him from his peaceful sleep curled up in my closet on some dirty laundry. "Well, excuse me," I thought, as I was even more confused by the noise for which I could clearly find no explanation. 

I wanted to call to their Dad's house, but my son has lost his cell phone and his father believes we shouldn't contact the kids while at each other's homes unless it is urgent. I have respected this to try and keep the peace.

But, I was fully awake then--thinking about how much this transition has both lifted and weighed on me, changing who I am so significantly. 

While I had never regretted or questioned our decision to divorce, the fact of the matter is that I will never get used to not seeing my children every single day. I don't know that I understand mothers who can walk away from their children without batting an eye. Truly. I strive to not be a judgmental person, but that is one action of which I find myself unable to put the shoe on the other foot.

I wonder if my ex-husband feels the difference? Anytime I have confided in him that this is hard and I miss them, he immediately comes back with the "of course, he does too" comments. He has gone from working full-time and seeing the children in the evenings and weekends, to our five-day-on/five-day-off. But, he quickly managed to squeeze in a second marriage and wife less than a year after our divorce was final. So, his attentions immediately found a place on which to fall without any significant time during which to linger. 

While I haven't been dateless, most of my time I have spent alone--meditating, thinking, realizing, growing, sometimes crying, finding contentment, and hopefully learning what must be learned from our failure. Of course, this is all my skewed perspective, I realize. I am sure he misses them too.

I feel bad for saying it, but there are times I selfishly pray that he'll get consumed with his new wife so much that he agrees to change our custody to something different. Because it feels like a part of me has been ripped away. I don't know how to heal this. Clearly, I know my children need both of us, and I know the decision we made was best for them. But, it doesn't mean I have to like it or that it will get easier for me. And, maybe it isn't supposed to, actually.

While getting ready, I missed a call on my phone. Noticing the voice mail notification, I quickly logged on. The number was one I didn't recognize and the message was clearly an accidental dial. What played back was the sound of my ex-husband and his new wife. Her flatly telling the kids to get this and that together for school. Him explaining to her his plans for the day. 

That's when I heard it. 

The giggle. 

I listened as my daughter's unmistakable giggle continued and I heard her talking to her step mother's cat. She loves animals so much. My daughter walks around cuddling the world around her whenever possible, and I feel so lucky to be one of her recipients. I continued to listen to her little voice playing with the cat, then heard my son come and talk to her and laugh with her. 

Honestly, it was felt like medicine for my aching heart, hearing their little voices. That's the only way I can describe it.

Sometimes God brings us little miracles. In all of the mess that was my past few years, I have learned to cling to those small gems as they come along. I recognize that they are few and far between, but they are there to help us get through. I believe that with all of my heart. 

The end of this one rocks, at least...

In re-reading my previous post, I realized how completely "boo hoo...whoa is me" the first half of it sounds. In reality, I guess that is a good representation of the thought process I go through--first feeling overwhelmed or injured by things, and then rationalizing and realizing that I do have a very blessed and wonderful life. So, I hope that is not misunderstood by my whole 2.5 readers (or less) that still read this blog.

After purging all of that whining, something kind of good happened--even if it is with regards to something very negative--talking to our youngest about the shootings. I had a quick impromptu call this morning from my ex and he was wanting to update me on what he'd told her, which basically was...you may hear some things at school and do not worry. We will talk about them at home tonight. We both had been on the fence with talking to our third grader about it. Do you sacrifice your child's security and cause them mental anguish, when as parents we are supposed to make our younger children feel safe and loved?

So, What is so amazing in all of this? With as many differences and as much tension that has developed in what started out to be such an amicable split between us, my ex vented the exact same frustrations I have had and had the same opinion that I did in how and if this should be relayed to our kids and to what level.

I texted him later and told him that despite everything lately, it gives me great comfort in knowing that when it comes to our kids we remain completely in line with one another. We still share the same beliefs in how to handle something as delicate as talking about these shootings. This aspect of our marriage was always something that was a huge positive.

It was the one shining moment of connection I have felt with him in the past year. And, that was enough for me to know that we will be OK. We will calm down again. We are still the same people in some ways as when we were married, even if in other ways we've grown and changed immensely in others.

So, there is that silver lining in the midst of all of this mess and chaos. 

And, here is another positive...

I just found the PERFECT white elephant gift for my company exchange tomorrow....

The PEZ "Kiss" gift set. ROCK ON, PEEPS!!!

Down the road I go...

She accidentally called me by her name the other day.

My daughter was trying to tell me something, and called me by her step-mother’s name on accident.

She immediately corrected herself and explained why she made the mistake. And, I smiled and said without missing a beat, “No big deal. What was your story?”

But, inside, I cringed. I’ll admit it.

Only a few weeks before, she’d described how she has a new friend who is like her—“She has two moms too, actually.” She’d said. And, I’d thought to myself…but she’s not your Mom. I am! It sounds so selfish as I write this. But, this is what went through my head.

After the tragedy in Connecticut, like most parents, every fiber of my being wanted to hold my children. My children were with my ex-husband and his new wife this weekend. And, when texted a few times to check on them, the ex acted unsurprisingly annoyed. That’s how he acts now—like he must tolerate my existence. I am the thorn in his side, and what did I want again?

After picking up and taking my son to confirmation class this morning, I asked him how his trip with his Dad to put together bikes for kids in need went this weekend. I knew this was a new tradition my kids’ father had started a few years ago, and I supported it wholeheartedly. My son said, “It was really great, Mom. The whole family was there.”

I quietly mumbled, “Well, not the whole family.” I knew I should not have said those words aloud. I really didn’t even know they were coming out of my mouth until I did. I truly have to learn to keep those thoughts only in my head. And, I look forward to a day when I don't even have those thoughts anymore.

The past few years have taught me so much. I’ve learned about what real friendships look like and, how a great majority of the time people may not be there for you in the way you expect or need. I have chosen to let go of the bitterness of that.

I’ve let go of the hurt feeling of being so quickly and easily replaced with my former family. I own the fact that, after years of counseling and trying, I was a part of the decision to end the marriage. I grieve for that, even though I hold no regrets and actually have new understanding of why that was necessary and justified.

I hold tight to the hope that I mean something to my children, but I also realistically know that there is a new mother figure in their life as well. I told them that it just means there is more love for them in the end. In my heart, I did believe it when I said it, but that doesn’t mean there is not a parallel fear that runs through me of losing the two things that mean the most to me in the world.

This past few years, I’ve lost a lot. Financial security. Half of my family. For a time, even my parents were not there. The comfort of tradition. A great chunk of my friendships (which were not friendships at all, I've realized.)

I could sit here and focus on that. The loss. There are rare occasions when I let myself feel it. I have a good cry, and I move on. And, I did that some this week, I’ll admit.

But, I have gained so much in the past few years too. I’ve grown in my faith with God. I’ve learned that I can and will make it on my own. I’ve learned that I don’t need someone else to complete me, but I’d also like very much to find a companion one day. I know now though, that if that is not what God has in mind for me, that I can still be happy.

I have learned to count my blessings and to focus on the positive. I have learned to recognize and appreciate my very blessed life, and pray for those less fortunate, because they are all around me. I have learned to let go of hurt and anger. I can now sit in a completely quiet home and have peace inside. Good friends who have watched me on this ride say that I seem much calmer in general now-content even. It is an accurate assessment, I think.

We do not always know or understand the road we find ourselves upon. I never saw myself as ever being divorced. I never thought I would be starting over at 40-years-old…that I would face a feeling that I could lose everything that matters most to me. I hug my kids tighter now. I tell them I love them multiple times a day. I never let them question how much they mean to me. I do all of this, not for the return hug or the hope that they love me too. Of course, I want that always. But, I do this because I feel it and they need to know they are important and meaningful to me.

In such a week when so much has been lost and we are having our faith so strongly tested, I have to trust that the road God has put my feet upon is the road I am destined to walk. I have to let my feet shuffle and stumble, when the path gets worn and rocky. I have to pick myself back up when I fall and keep looking ahead. I look off onto the horizon and know that the sun still sets in the same place and rises every morning in the same way. And, I know inside that many blessings lie ahead of me, once I have learned the lessons of today. And more lessons are to be learned along the way. Most of all, I know that my life has a purpose and a meaning, even when that meaning isn’t obvious to me. God has a plan for me. I just have to keep walking down this road…

Getting back to it...

It has been about two and a half years since the end of my marriage and a relationship that lasted 20 years and through the birth of two children. In the shakeout of that divorce, which was as much my decision as his, I have changed in many ways. I have had two relationships since, one more serious, and another that was quickly and easily recognized as being destined to fail.

I've grown, changed, learned to be alone, and that it is OK to be lonely too. I have learned that my world does not end if my house is devoid of little bodies running around and the normal business that I am used to with having two kids. I have learned to live a week without seeing or talking to my children, though I still struggle with it. I can be content without a partner. The fear of that has now dissolved.

So much has happened, that I could have written my way through several books by now. And, yet, for around three years now, I have found myself unable to enjoy two of my greatest passions--scrapbooking and writing. And, yet, without these two outlets in my life, life has moved on. But, I have felt urges so often to go back to my writing life. I have missed my careful crafting of photos of my family and friends as well.

I don't know how to start back to this. I don't know how to bring the words back and have them flow in the same way they used to flow. Maybe they just can't flow anymore.

Through all of it, I still lean on my words. I still need to write out when I struggle or when I realize something about myself. I just have lost some of the will to share that publicly, I suppose. When the spotlight comes on you as you go through a divorce, and you feel the stares, you want to sometimes retreat and save your words for only yourself. Because, in some ways you learn that when it counts, you need to lean on God and yourself only, because you cannot always depend on others to lift you up.

I do miss writing and sharing though. I read a great blog post and I think, wow...I miss that community of women writers of which I used to feel so much camaraderie.

So, I will write here when I can. When I think of it and when words do come. And, maybe one day I will get back to my writing and my scrapbooking. And, if I do? Oh, man...am I going to have a LOT to say!

If You Give a Louse a Cookie...

At just almost the stroke of midnight, my daughter threw up and then shouted my name, waking me from what must have been a dream about Gerard Butler showing up on my doorstep and vowing his undying devotion. 

It’s now 12:46 a.m., and I have the choice of lying awake and listening to her stomach gurgle next to me (yes, she needed to get in my bed), wondering when the next episode will begin, or I can get up and do something. I have so many different thoughts whirling in my brain tonight, I might as well blow the dust off of this old blog and try to do that crazy thing called writing again. I hope I can remember how this all works…

So, the 40s, apparently, are all about figuring out your own shit. I know I have heard this before, but I really didn’t buy into it. But, I am here to say that maybe there is something to it after all. Because the past six months have been jam-packed with the most random-yet-profound realizations about myself. Blog gold, I tell you!

Tonight, hours before the up-chuck heard 'round the world, my daughter and I went to a skating party with her girls' organization that sells boxed bits of sweetness, whose members wear brown patchy vests. You know the one, right? 

At the rink , I bought our tickets and walked in, ready to strap on my wheels and get down to a little One Direction action, when I bumped into a few moms that I knew. Each had the awkward glance at my ticket, followed by the same question for me, “Uh, are YOU skating too?”

I felt like dorky at this point to admit it. But, it had never occurred to me NOT to skate with my daughter. A few told me that they didn’t trust themselves to not break their neck out there. Another told me that her daughter had emphatically forbidden her to go near the skates at all. I guess I considered myself lucky that mine hadn’t acted this way at all—she was genuinely excited that I wanted to come and skate. And, so I did, until I felt like she'd transferred enjoying skating with her Mom to her pals more, and then I faded into the background like a good little Mom.

During this fading, I was approached by her leader, who also happens to be the closest person I have ever had to a nemesis in my life. I am not one to make many enemies or have volatile relationships often. I have a lot of general friends, and a very few close friends. When one of those closer connections falls by the wayside, I have always been the one mourning the loss and wondering what happened. After going through a divorce and the weird shake-out that happens with friends post-split, I have realized that I need to let go and appreciate the friendships I still have and the people who chose to stay. The others are gone for a very good reason and I no longer worry or think about them...much.

But, back to the nemesis (let’s just call her Nemi, for short). This is a person who has actually wished me ill-will. A person who has bad-mouthed my children when they were younger, and then turned around and hugged them as they ran to her--so happy to see her. (I am not exaggerating here. I could write volumes on all that transpired. It got freaky weird, people. Trust me.) Years ago, when all of this came to light for me, I thought…wow. Evil. Evil and not someone I care to know at all. Buh...to the...bye.

But, proximity and the friendship of our kids seemed to keep throwing us back together. Now, almost a decade later, we are only in contact because of this one activity. This group happens to be a really lovely group of girls and equally lovely mothers involved. The only hitch is that Nemi is in charge of the group…which has always given me pause. I have several friends who know of all the things Nemi pulled years back, who marvel that I still have contact at all. But, my daughter truly loves the group.

Lately, I have noticed Nemi has being overly attentive and complimentary of both my daughter and myself. Each time, I have felt that nag of knowing something was coming down the pike. Then, she chose that moment at the skate rink, while I was sitting alone, to make her intentions known. She asked me to be in charge of the most significant activity a group of girls in brown vests participates in for this organization. The one that everyone knows about, because everyone has a box or two of those thin things hidden in their freezer for late night noshing and moments of extreme PMS when nothing else will do? The one that runs from now until next Spring and involves hours and hours of work?

Yes, I got the fully recruitment pitch…the girls would not be able to do it if I did not take it on, and why she absolutely can NOT do it. Yadda, yadda. Even when I mentioned that I work fulltime, she came back with that all the moms do in our group do now…and that was a lot of the issue. But, I knew the job from having been popcorn mom for my son's troop for three years, etc...

Unbelievably, as I sat there, I actually started considering taking the job. I thought about my daughter and her friends not getting their patches this year, and how much they’d be disappointed. I almost let Nemi talk me into it. I even told her that I would think about it.

Flash forward this evening and a late night call with my mother once the kids were tucked in. I told her about the conversation and she laughed. “Well, you’re not doing it are you? I mean, you can’t seriously consider taking this on too, can you? Not for that woman!”

                                                            

Moments before this, my mom and I had chatted about a few of the more narcissistic family members in our clan. She’d commented that she guessed being the complete opposite of self-absorbed can be a problem too…then kind of paused.

I knew why she was pausing. 

She had just described me. At least, the old me. OK, maybe still me. After all, I had taken on volunteer duties with my professional group after swearing that I was going to take a break from years of service to the group. Just this one event, I thought to myself. And, just that very day, I’d volunteered to co-teach a class in my church the next fall, helping others through divorce.

However, each of those things, I’d willingly wanted to do. The short volunteer commitment to my organization was a great way to cap off years of service and a fun event to plan. The church thing was something I’d been praying on for weeks, and I truly felt God was calling me to help with this ministry.

But, after actually considering if I could take on even part of the task to head up this major fundraiser for my daughter’s group? All because someone who had done nothing but be vicious and gossip about my family for years, was asking me? And, tell me again why I hadn’t laughed in this woman’s face? What in the heck is wrong with me, I wondered!

There are times when you realize things about yourself that change you forever. This was one of those times.

I seriously needed to give UP this “over-giver” side of me and fast. I was getting way too old for this sort of ca-ca-doody.

I realized that, while I wanted to help my daughter and that some level of guilt over the divorce still hung over me, taking this on would only be taking time away from my children. I only have my kids for half of each week as it is, due to split custody. And I would only be helping out the ONE person who had been openly and unapologetically cruel to my family.

So, as I lay awake this evening, trying to go back to sleep while listening to the gurgle of my daughters sick tummy, I instead began to compose my email to Nemi declining the request to take on the job.

I’ll admit, my brainstorming emails were way better than the one I will send simply saying, “I have so little time with my kids as it is, and I just can’t take on another job. Sorry. And, I hope that you find someone.”

No, the message that I send will not include the phrases, “Listen here, you manipulative and conniving gossip-monger. You will NOT use me for this. You will not play upon divorce guilt to talk me into doing something for you that you will later use against me somehow because you have no life and you are a pathetic excuse for a person!” I will also not include the phrases, “You have a lot of kahones, Nemi,” or “Give me a f-ing break! I hope you choke on all the PB patties.”

But, it sure was fun to think about it. Strangely enough, my friends, that is how I wind myself down and back to sleep...

Time for some home improvement...

It is funny how life observations and realizations can come to a person at the most random of moments. Today, my moment formed as beads of sweat gathered on my forehead and my arms grew weary from scraping away the old caulk in my shower.

It dawned on me that relationships in your 40’s can be a lot like home improvement projects. Take re-caulking, for example. A year ago, I caulked my shower. It was the first time I’d ever tried to do it, and I was pretty proud of myself with the end result. It wasn’t perfect, but it was better than it was before and it felt good knowing that I took something in my new home, and I made it better. A year of learning to manage my life and my children’s lives completely on my own had not been easy, but like the shower, I was better that day than I had been previously.

And, now I find myself a year later, taking off moldy remnants of my previous work, cleaning out the gunk, and starting over. I shake my head as the parallels to dating life come to mind.

Each time we try again, we find ourselves looking at things anew. It’s like walking into your new home after signing on the dotted line. The slate is clean, you feel a surge of optimism at the thought of this new place and all the new possibilities. This excitement can be dangerous for the hopeless romantic type, which I must admit that I am. You imagine the “what if’s” entirely too far in advance. But, in some ways, that can be fun. It makes the exploration all the more exciting as you enter those first few months of getting to know that someone special and new.

But, over time, you see some of the cracks in the new person’s makeup, like noticing the various flaws in the home you’ve just purchased. You see scars from past relationships. You look to the person to decide, is it going to be worth dealing with these things to see if this is the real thing?

And, by the same turn, they look to you. They begin to see some of the less desirable things left from past hurt and relationship failures. Like molds, those things can grow until they become a problem. You can let those past life experiences take over, to the point that you can’t see this new face before you. You only see the last face. The one who left you hurt and changed. You feel unprepared to tackle what needs to be done to start again.

But, the hope that I hold on to, perhaps foolishly, is that once you dive in and scrap away the residue from the past hurt, you find something nice, something solid and worthy of your time and energy. You see the person for what they are—human. Just as you are human.  You throw your arms around them and love them, hoping to clear away the past hurt and make way for something more meaningful and new. You take that chance.

With every new try, you could just give up. You could leave things as they are, and not try to find a way through it. You could just walk away from the job entirely. Maybe it is not worth it to you at this point in your life.

But, the there is another option. Sometimes you can look at the person standing before you, and you can let all the past go. You can try to re-caulk a line this time that will not leak or break away during life’s trials. You can take what you’ve learned from the past, and instead of letting it immobilize you, you can let it teach you how to build something stronger this time.

You can try again.

And, again.

Each time you forgive yourself for your mistakes, and you see yourself getting better at knowing what you need to do. Each time, you build something stronger. One day, you hope it will be worth it. And you will look into the person’s eyes and know, you came through all of this to get to this place. This place that is so much better than any other place you have ever been.

My morning was filled with disappointments and missteps. And, so I threw myself into this work to try and forget.

I look at my shower….still a work in progress. Something tells me that whether this go-round work out or not, I will be OK. I will be stronger. I will learn something and know what to do better next time. And, most of all, I know, that I will try again and again. Until I am to that right person and that better place. Because, I refuse to give up on myself.