Over the past few months, I've made a lot of changes in my life. I've changed my diet and exercise in order to lose the 20 pounds I gained while with S (as well as another 30) and to finally get my waistline at a healthy place. I am living alone for the first time in my life. I'm taking steps to move up in my career.
My life, for the most part, is good. I'm healthier than I've been in 25 years. (Okay, and hungrier, but we'll let that pass for now.) I can do everything that I want to do - on my own - with minimal complications. I've gone kayaking, hiking, and camping on my own. My apartment is lovely and clean, and I can run around naked anytime I want and not worry about who may walk in. (Gasp! I love to run around naked in my home!)
I miss S daily still. Or rather, I miss what I hoped we'd have. But it's a dull ache now. An acceptance ache. The kind of sore tooth that you know is there so you put your tongue on it occasionally, but you're not calling the dentist every five minutes anymore.(Forgive me the analogy; I just had a root canal.) We still talk regularly, but the urgency to have his love is mostly gone. I'm not looking to "make" him take me back. I'm just enjoying the time I do spend with him as my friend. He's a wonderful person, and I'm grateful that he's still in my life.
Somewhere in all of this, I've turned a corner of sorts. I'm finally looking to myself first. It's not evoking the relief or extreme joy that I thought it would, but it is a sort of peace that I didn't know I could feel.
Once, a few years ago, one of the most amazing men I've known saw the sadness in my eyes and said, "I'm not going to wish you happiness. That's fleeting and ephemeral. I'm wishing you peace, because that's what we all really need in our souls. Simply, peace." I lost that dear, sweet man not long after, and I feel that loss now more than ever. His kind, generous spirit understood humanity and humans in a way that made life easier.
I feel like I should be honest with all of you. When this started, my goal was to be single for a year and a day - and for myself, I included no casual dating and absolute celibacy in that. I had it in my head that I wasn't capable of casually dating anyone; that I am an all-or-nothing kind of girl. But as time has marched on, I've done some serious soul searching. The truth is, I had no idea what casually dating was like for me anymore. It has been more than 25 years since I've done it, so how could I possibly know how I'd respond to that kind of thing? And, to probably be more frank than any of you want to know, I really missed the physical joy of being with another person. It has been a very, very long time since I've truly enjoyed that. My recent-past relationships weren't stellar in that department.
So, I reached out into the ether to see what dating was like right now. And to my utter shock, I was overwhelmed with offers for dates. Men from 18 (what the bloody hell??) to 64 were interested in taking me out. I went out on a few dates, and I've met some really decent guys. In case you were curious, no, I absolutely did not go out with the child of 18, but I did go out with a 25-year-old man just to see what that would be like. It lasted as long as it took me to drink my beer. My bottom limit is now 30. I've winnowed the field down to a handful of guys that I enjoy spending time with, and we're keeping things so casual as to be barely seeing each other. It's perfect. I have maybe one or two dates a week, they tell me that I'm sexy and beautiful, I get out of the apartment and do new things with these new people, and then I go home and love my life with my dog.
I don't know how healthy that is. Does it feed my need for external validation? Absolutely. These men think that I'm amazing, special, and beautiful. It's been so long since I've been told those things by men not married, or related to me. Both M and S were ridiculously frugal with compliments to me, and I thrive under those compliments. Again, I have no idea how healthy or unhealthy that is, but it's pretty much integral to who I am at this point. And it's helping me rebuild my self-esteem. So I'm going to take it. I'm going to enjoy it for what it is. These guys aren't telling me these things for any reason other than they think and feel it in the moment they say it. And that's so heady.
The dating thing is nice, but for the first time, it's an addendum to my life, not the focus of it. My life revolves around me, my dog, and my art. My life revolves around building my career, living out loud, and being myself. My life is about me, and I am near tears with the joy of being able to say that honestly.
I still ache for what could have been. I still miss being in a relationship. But it's easier to set that aside now. It's easier to keep the focus where it's supposed to be.
My life, for the most part, is good. I'm healthier than I've been in 25 years. (Okay, and hungrier, but we'll let that pass for now.) I can do everything that I want to do - on my own - with minimal complications. I've gone kayaking, hiking, and camping on my own. My apartment is lovely and clean, and I can run around naked anytime I want and not worry about who may walk in. (Gasp! I love to run around naked in my home!)
I miss S daily still. Or rather, I miss what I hoped we'd have. But it's a dull ache now. An acceptance ache. The kind of sore tooth that you know is there so you put your tongue on it occasionally, but you're not calling the dentist every five minutes anymore.(Forgive me the analogy; I just had a root canal.) We still talk regularly, but the urgency to have his love is mostly gone. I'm not looking to "make" him take me back. I'm just enjoying the time I do spend with him as my friend. He's a wonderful person, and I'm grateful that he's still in my life.
Somewhere in all of this, I've turned a corner of sorts. I'm finally looking to myself first. It's not evoking the relief or extreme joy that I thought it would, but it is a sort of peace that I didn't know I could feel.
Once, a few years ago, one of the most amazing men I've known saw the sadness in my eyes and said, "I'm not going to wish you happiness. That's fleeting and ephemeral. I'm wishing you peace, because that's what we all really need in our souls. Simply, peace." I lost that dear, sweet man not long after, and I feel that loss now more than ever. His kind, generous spirit understood humanity and humans in a way that made life easier.
I feel like I should be honest with all of you. When this started, my goal was to be single for a year and a day - and for myself, I included no casual dating and absolute celibacy in that. I had it in my head that I wasn't capable of casually dating anyone; that I am an all-or-nothing kind of girl. But as time has marched on, I've done some serious soul searching. The truth is, I had no idea what casually dating was like for me anymore. It has been more than 25 years since I've done it, so how could I possibly know how I'd respond to that kind of thing? And, to probably be more frank than any of you want to know, I really missed the physical joy of being with another person. It has been a very, very long time since I've truly enjoyed that. My recent-past relationships weren't stellar in that department.
So, I reached out into the ether to see what dating was like right now. And to my utter shock, I was overwhelmed with offers for dates. Men from 18 (what the bloody hell??) to 64 were interested in taking me out. I went out on a few dates, and I've met some really decent guys. In case you were curious, no, I absolutely did not go out with the child of 18, but I did go out with a 25-year-old man just to see what that would be like. It lasted as long as it took me to drink my beer. My bottom limit is now 30. I've winnowed the field down to a handful of guys that I enjoy spending time with, and we're keeping things so casual as to be barely seeing each other. It's perfect. I have maybe one or two dates a week, they tell me that I'm sexy and beautiful, I get out of the apartment and do new things with these new people, and then I go home and love my life with my dog.
I don't know how healthy that is. Does it feed my need for external validation? Absolutely. These men think that I'm amazing, special, and beautiful. It's been so long since I've been told those things by men not married, or related to me. Both M and S were ridiculously frugal with compliments to me, and I thrive under those compliments. Again, I have no idea how healthy or unhealthy that is, but it's pretty much integral to who I am at this point. And it's helping me rebuild my self-esteem. So I'm going to take it. I'm going to enjoy it for what it is. These guys aren't telling me these things for any reason other than they think and feel it in the moment they say it. And that's so heady.
The dating thing is nice, but for the first time, it's an addendum to my life, not the focus of it. My life revolves around me, my dog, and my art. My life revolves around building my career, living out loud, and being myself. My life is about me, and I am near tears with the joy of being able to say that honestly.
I still ache for what could have been. I still miss being in a relationship. But it's easier to set that aside now. It's easier to keep the focus where it's supposed to be.
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