Someone Has to be First

 When you are mid-separation, you're out of a job, your friends have abandoned you, you become lonely...craving adult interaction.  Church helps but it's once a week.  Women's  groups help but they're also as damaged and  usually by the same situation.  So while sympathy does love company, sometimes what's called for is fun.  You want to feel some sense of normalcy.  Whatever that is.  You want someone to make you feel wanted.  Needed.  Cherished.

With limited options, I decided to give Match a try.  So here goes the first story of Match.  There'll be more to come, but you have to start somewhere.  First off, I'm gonna say, don't do it until you have the paperwork in hand.  By that I mean your divorced papers.  Just don't.  There's too much angst, too much unresolved.  It just isn't a good idea.  At the time you think "this is how I move on".  But can you?  Are you ready to?  That answer is probably no.  Tie up those lose ends.

I'll say my first foray into Match was not at all what I expected.  I met this guy, also separated, who SAID he was in a similar situation (not sure if there was adultery involved but she supposedly wanted out of a 23 year marriage too).  He had one less child but the ones he had were WEIRDLY similar to mine.  We had the same phone.  We ordered the same drink at Starbucks.  It was very strange.  Seriously, the first horse out of the gate?  Does that ever happen?

We had several pretty fun dates.  We went to a brewery and dinner.  We had bloodies on a rainy day and watched a movie.  We went to the horse races.  It was...fun.  Fun I had been missing.  Someone thought of me.  Wanted to see me smile, me happy.  I really can't remember a time I had that kind of attention.  And I'll share this as well.  There was nothing physical involved.

Then, the "last" time we met, we did kiss.  OMG...did we kiss.  It was what I hadn't had and craved.  It was just a kiss but it was a KISS.  My toes curled and cramped.  It was that good.  Later that night the flirty text about said toes curling. Then...dun, da, dun dun.DUUUNNNN...the inevitable text about needing to stand down.  Not sure of himself or what he wants.  So...deep breath.  We're wading...just wading.  We're knee deep, and can easily wander back to ankle...maybe calf deep.  We aren't underwater.

About 6 months later, I get the out-of-the-blue text while waiting for the playoff game.  Like that kiss happened the day before.   It was so very weird.  And if I was a smart girl I'd have taken a hard pass, but...what can I say?  I'm weak.  So, THIS is my punishment for not getting the first time around that when guys show you who they are BELIEVE THEM.  More of the same.  Hoping the lesson took this time.  No 6 month postmortem, so I think I'm good.  The lesson had been learned.

Never fear my brave Boudiccas (yes, I'm gonna make you look that one up), I will soldier on and I DO have more stories to share.  And some, well...damn.  Stay tuned.

Defining Trauma

My dad was big on vocabulary.  He didn't go to college until after he had done 27 years in the Air Force, but he spent those years finding ways to better himself.  One was the Reader's Digest vocabulary quiz and find ways to incorporate those words into conversations.  So, to this day, and maybe in his honor, I attempt to use words that are appropriate but just outside the expected.

Trauma though...trauma is a word that hits you.  Maybe because you've experienced it or maybe because you've watched it, but it's definitely a gut punch.  If you google it, you'll find that now days trauma is defined as the psychological distress following any terrible or life threatening event.  Of course Merriam defines it from the physical aspect; an injury to tissue.  But for the purpose of this I'm going to concentrate on the psychological one.

My divorce traumatized me.  Not in the same way as being part of or watching a horrific event, but for me, it sorta was.  Both.  I never imagined being divorced.  Ever.  And after 24 years of marriage, why would I?  But apparently a grey divorce is a thing.  The trauma I experienced was on so many different levels I'm not sure where I would start.

I guess let's start with betrayal.  Followed by a deep sense of rejection.  Then the sacrifice of my family so that we could be near his and of my career so our kids would have the stability of one parent being home.  The dysfunction of a broken home that will follow not only me but my children. The betrayal (this time friends and "family")...UGH...the list is long and really if you want to read all about it, this kinda covers it.  So yeah, it was pretty traumatic.  And I'm dealing.  Doing better.  GETTING better each day, each week...so there is that.  My life will never be the same.  But maybe that's not a bad thing.  The things that made my marriage not work are no longer a factor.  And would I have gotten here without the divorce?  Maybe although I doubt it.  You have to want to fix what's broken and you can't alone.  And maybe I will eventually be in a better place NOT in spite of it but because of it. 

But here's the thing...

Trauma always leaves a scar

It follows us home...

It changes our lives...

Trauma messes everybody up.

But maybe that's the point.

All the pain and the fear and the crap

Maybe going through all of that is what keeps us moving forward

It's what pushes us

Maybe we have to get a little messed up

Before we can step up. ~ Alex Karev

I added that for 2 reasons.  First, it's appropriate.  Second Karev said it and I've maintained that I have miss named my rescue dog.  He should be named Karev.  Because he's kind of a dick, but to the right person (well, me) he is actually pretty sweet.