#WhereInTheWorldIsCarolyn???

Hello From a very sunny, breezy Meerufenfushi.  Meeru for short. A Maldivian island about an hour boat ride from Male.  I am...FINALLY...in the place I will call home for the next 2 weeks.  It's a little surreal and I'm not fully convinced that the past 3 days haven't been a dream, and if so...let me sleep...never wake a happy momma.

All this happened because I have an extremely generous sister and brother in law who invited me along .(I kinda think the BIL is gonna have fun with the whole "sister wives" thing.)  I need to back up a little.  They discovered the joys of cruising about 4 years ago and have taken to it like...well like a sister/sister-in-law to business class?   They have gradually booked longer and longer trips until my sister finally pulled the trigger on an around the world cruise.  They leave from Florida Dec of 2022 and end in London May of 2023.  And while they typically kennel their animals, this was too long of a time frame so they asked me if I would come out to Washington state and pet sit.  Since the pandemic has given the the opportunity to prove my effectiveness at working from home, I've been approved to work from Washington.  So sometime next fall I will take up temporary residence in Bellingham. (And to be clear NOT being in Minnesota for a winter made the decision much easier). As "compensation" for the inconvenience, and to a degree to help keep Michelle company for part of the 3 weeks that Bruce will be diving, they graciously offered me this opportunity.  And when opportunity knocks.  A LOT of flaming hoops had to be jumped through to make this happen, but...LOOK WHERE I AM! 

The Maldives are a group of islands (over 1000) of which around 190 are habitable.  It is almost exactly on the equator just south west of India in the Indian Ocean.  Meerufenfushi is in the N Atoll basically the most eastern most of the islands. Michelle and Bruce have one of those amazing rooms (this is after all their 5 year anniversary) over the water, the top red dot, while I am "making due" with a villa on the beach the other red dot).  

The entire island is a resort.   It's about 2 miles from end to end.  I walked a little of it yesterday but I'll be honest...the jet lag hit like a truck around 3 pm yesterday and the inevitable headache followed.  So I took a short nap, headed to dinner and returned to my room where I crashed.  Hard.

But not before catching my first sunset.

Where's that cool Dating Game music when you want it?

Way back when the divorce was in the final throes, I broke down and joined Match (followed by  Zoosk).  I'm no longer on either although my profile is.  Let's just call it a teaser. I'll throw some more money at it when someone interesting comes along.  Oh, mind you there have been interesting fella's there, but I am also realistic and when I see they're wanting kids, I'm fairly certain anyone in my age range is looking for Barbie.  Actually, I think what they are really looking for is someone in their late 30s who managed to survive motherhood and still look hot.  Yeah at 39 I did too.  At 58, not so much.  Which is why men my age date younger.  And younger women know that 15 year age gap might give them the payoff they want (oh c'mon...you know it's true).

I have a litany of stories to tell from online dating but today I'm going to talk simply about the profile.  Take your pick of platforms and away we go.

Both platforms (and I'm sure most) allow you to use a pseudonym although I think Match encourages you to use your real name (or a real-ish sounding one).  What I want to know is WHO EXACTLY told these guys when you make up you're nom d'amour, that you use and adverb and an adjective?  No seriously.  I wanna know and I want to have them flogged with a wet noodle.  Just scrolling through the notifications I found these (seriously...these are REAL pseudonyms):

• Gently Funny
• Creatively Tough
  
• Obviously Fierce
• Definitely Friendly
• Monstrously Genuine
• Positively Happy
• Creatively Handsome
  
• Casually Adventurous 
• Gently Caring

I mean...c'mon.  So if you want me to be the first to contact you I'm going to address you as...???  Quit trying to be cute.  It's not.

Next.  The pictures.  Most of my pics were taken post divorce and with my kids and I'm ok with that.  At least they're not at ridiculous angles or bathroom selfies.  FYI guys...there's a selfie feature* on your phone (unless you're still using a Fisher Price phone) that flips the camera so you do not have to take a pic in front of a bathroom mirror.  There's also an editing app that will allow you to crop out the fact that you're in the bathroom.  But my favorite is the pics themselves.  First.  Keep your freaking shirt on.  I know, I know...you're SUPER PROUD of your pecs and your guns but let me ask this...would you want to meet any woman shirtless in person?  What does that say about you?  Just keep your shirt on. We'll get there.  Maybe.  Next, and I'm sure I'll get a lot of flack over this one, but keep the fish out of the picture.  Our eyes go right to the fish, NOT to you and if that's your goal then DAMN, time for some self esteem building exercises.  And last...but most certainly NOT least (and you KNOW it's coming right?), the motorcycle.  Yeah...I know.  My ex had one in our pre-divorce timeline.  I think women/wives recognize the signs of a midlife crisis and typically say...well, it's either the motorcycle or the girlfriend (mine apparently didn't realize the very reluctant ok for the motorcycle was NOT an ok for the girlfriend too.  If I were to think about it, I was informed of both after the fact so he remained true to form).  So yeah, you have a motorcycle and you LOVE your motorcycle and it's now an extension of you.  Pro-tip...we don't need to see all your extensions right off the bat.(SWIDT? 😉)

And  the "my friends say I'm..."  Honestly?  I don't care what your friends say you are.  They could think you're a douche-canoe but they'll still sing your praises which doesn't really tell me anything does it?. YOU are the best person to describe you.   Yeah, sure you're friends are gonna paint you in a glowing light and yeah, you might do that too but I can figure it out soon enough and I'll want my ire directed accordingly.  

Lastly...what's with y'all and camping?  Is that a gene thing?  I've been camping...hell, I've done Boundary Waters 3 times.  And not once did I LOVE it.  I had fun (not as much fun as I would have had had we figured out how to bring powdered alcohol) but mostly because of my fellow campers (pretty sure all of our BW stories start with, "Remember when Tim...").  But I don't sleep well on hard rocky surfaces (actually, I'm fairly confident that I am a rock magnet...if there are any within 12 inches of my lower back they will work their way to the surface and make a nest directly on the spot surest to cause the most pain) , I don't do well without a regular shower and the local mosquitoes were able to start their own Bank of Carolyn, thanks to me.  But it seems like every guy on these sites loves to camp.  I will return to when my dad used to tell me his idea of camping was staying at a hotel that didn't have HBO.  Amen.

I'm sure if someone wanted to critique my profile, they could find a plethora of items to mock.  My faith. I wrestled with what level I wanted to express my faith, and I decided that was a non-negotiable so it should be included.  Just like those who put their religious status as agnostic/atheist, I'd rather know up front and swipe left then become involved and realize too late that I have set myself up for failure. So, I'm sure there are plenty of non-believers who aren't interested in a "bible thumper".  Different strokes.

And before everyone jumps on the "you're too picky" bandwagon, I'm not.  Really.  I wouldn't say no to going out with some of these men (not all...OH HELL TO THE NO not all).  I think the best way to put it is your profile shouldn't be a fishing net.  But neither should it be a coffee filter.

 *On reflection, I am going to say, unless you are a narcissist who has mastered the art of selfies (as most of the under 30 crowd have done), just don't do a selfie.  There's a whole angle thing that has to be perfected...too low and we're looking at your brains through your nostrils, too high and we can let you know the status of your implants, so just don't.  Have your kid (or a friend) do it.  Kids are best.  They've perfected pictures of themselves so they'll know how to get the best one of you.  Trust me.

Divorce Shoes

 Yup.  I said it. Outloud.

Two of my favorite people in the world went through it and I'll be honest, I didn't get it.  And I don't think anyone ever does until they're standing in the divorce shoes.  They're not your size.    They're not your style. They hurt.  You can't imagine going anywhere in them because they are NOT YOU.

But divorce is different than shoes.  Shoes you get to take off and if you REALLY want to, you can toss them.  But divorce...you don't have that option.  It's like they're the ONLY shoes that are available for you and if you want to move forward, ya gotta put them on.

So, you do.  Because you don't have a choice.  If you're smart, you find a way to break them in S-L-O-W-L-Y, when every fiber in your being tells you to run , to get as far away from where you are because being where you are hurts.  The thing is, it's not where you are that hurts.  It's the damned shoes.  It's the proverbial rock/hard place, damned if you do/damned if you don't scenario.   But standing still is not an option. 

I technically wasn't divorced when I started moving and that was probably good, given the divorce took over a year.  I decided to take my oldest daughter to northern Wisconsin for a "girls get away".  Weirdly, it was something I never considered, because any time during my marriage I attempted to do anything outside of my ex, he nixed it. (You eventually learn what this is and how to deal with what it has done to you...another post).  So we went to Madeline Island/Bayfield.  We went shopping in Bayfield where I found the prettiest wall arrangement of flowers outside of an antique store.  So I took a picture of them.  It wasn't just the colors, which were so vibrant, but it was also the texture.  The chipped brick wall, the painted peeling wooden boxes, the bright blue door frame. It wasn't one thing but all of it.

See where this is going?  We aren't one dimensional.  We have so many facets that can't be pigeon holed into one picture.  It's everything as a whole that makes us who we are.  For too long I had myself tied up in what I wasn't. I wasn't wanted. I wasn't enough.  I wasn't young. I wasn't skinny. I wasn't wealthy. I wasn't worthy.  I wasn't welcome.  The list of wasn'ts was pretty long. And I forgot that for each of those things I wasn't, I was/am something else.  I AM a great mom.  I AM a good friend.  I AM worthy of being something other than a doormat. I AM clever.  I AM resourceful.  I AM capable.  I AM courageous.  I AM adventurous.  And want to know the dirty little secret?  I always have been those things.  It just took a while to find me buried under all I was made to believe I wasn't.

I still have the divorce shoes.  Apparently, they're like a scar that you can't just slough off even though I would love to.  But as I've had to readjust my thinking so much, it shouldn't be a surprise that I've had to  with this as well.  Because sometimes...if you're honest, when you look at those shoes, ugly and painful as they are, you can see how far you've come in them and find that though the journey was exhausting, both mentally and physically, you're in a much better place. 

Here are those flowers.  They still make me smile.  Maybe you too?

Launched

Know what happens when you launch a rocket?  It's gone.  Oh, you might get pieces of it back...maybe, but it won't be the same.  I think this is what they mean when we launch our children. We prepare them for a life where they make their own decisions and reap the benefits AND the consequences.  Hopefully.

When the boy joined the ANG I got a little taste of this.  I wrote about it here.  And then when my oldest daughter moved out the year after she finished school, there it was again.  But she was local. So, again, it didn't feel "real". (to be clear, it was real, but I still get to see her...well, whenever I want)  Well, now it's reality time and it really hit.  The boy, after finishing his Masters degree in Hospital Administration has joined the USAF.  Now, don't get me wrong.  I LOVE that he has done this, this serving his country through the same branch of the military as my dad did.  And I LOVE that he has so many adventures  and opportunities in his future.  The part I don't love, is once again,  watching the glow of the tail lights.

Saturday morning, he left for 8 weeks at OTS in Alabama <here is where I comment that this poor guy has done every "training" in the dead of summer in the south:  Basic was San Antonio, Tech school was Biloxi, and now OTS is Montgomery.>  From there he goes directly to his first PCS: Charleston SC.  This is not a new chapter.  This is a new book.

We spent most of May and June getting him ready.  The movers (MOVERS!!! Not friends and family who require payment in the form of free beer and pizza...real live MOVERS) will be here early Aug to pick up his belongings and move them to SC.  He has an apartment on hold where he will make his temporary home until his girlfriend moves out next year and they figure out where exactly they want to be.

In so much of this process I have expressed my concerns only to have him let me know that he's already worked that out.  Which is my tell that he is ready.   Him wanting me to let go and my willingness to do so are mutually exclusive, however much I try and kid myself that they are not.  BUT, knowing that this is what we prepare them for made it a LITTLE easier.

This son of mine.  He is an amazing young man.  He helped me through probably the darkest time in my life.  He was a sounding board with so much wisdom I sometimes questioned if he was mine.(he is...we have the same head circumference).  He has so much integrity  and empathy.  I saw that in him when he was just a boy. When you think you have him figured out, he zags when you were positive he would zig and the end results always exceed what you expected. Character.  Faith.  Honor. Intelligence  Courage. Service. Determination.  He is like a walking billboard of what the military would want in their leaders. They are lucky to have him.

So, Saturday morning after packing everything he needed for OTS in his truck and plotting his course, he said good-bye.  as we hugged, he said he hoped he could make me proud.  THAT, my sweet child, you have already done.  It has no bounds.

Be Your Own Advocate

 For so long we are our children's advocate, and if you are fortunate to have a supportive spouse, you might have someone in your corner (I didn't).  So how do we be that "physican who heals themself" person when you have to be your own advocate?

Last month I celebrated my 2nd year at my new job.  Oddly my first year was still somewhat fraught with post divorce/child rearing/house selling issues.  Then throw in a pandemic where I was "forced"* to work from home, let's just say I had a bit of a rocky start.

Then...my life outside of work stabilized and I was in a better place.  I started asking questions, getting answers, volunteering, basically stepping out of my comfort zone.  Sometimes, you can't figure things out on your own and that's OK.

We have bi monthly checkins with our manager and the past year working from home, I've felt good.  Oh, I've had stressful meetings, usually dealing with pushed deadlines, but on the whole, I believe I've made great strides professionally.  It was at the last check-in, that coincided with a self/peer/management assessment that I decided now was the time to be my own advocate.  While I believe that my employer does value my work, I didn't think it was translating...financially.  OH, I got the same merit increases and bonuses as my co-workers, but I was still stuck at the lowest position with the organization and I wasn't quite sure why.  So on my self assessment I said that "I sometimes feel valued".  This caught my manager's attention and during our check in, where I was given a glowing review both from her and my peers, I was asked about it.  

I decided to be as honest as I could be.  I knew I had a rough first year, but given working from home I was exceeding expectations, I wasn't sure why I wasn't progressing within the organization.  I phrased it in such a way as I would like to now how I wasn't progressing so that I could fix it to get to the next level.

3 days later, I was at the next level in my profession.  It is a bit of a catch-22, though not knowing if it was done because I brought attention to it or if it was done because it was deserved.  I'm going to go with the second because I'm working on being more positive.  But I will encourage you to be your own advocate.  If not you, then who?

So, Yay me.

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.