First dates, and stuff.

Getting ready for a first date is like….terrible. I don’t believe anyone who says they look back at their dating years and recall them to be the best years of their life. And if I hear one more married woman look at their single friend (me) one more time and tell me how jealous they are and how I should be enjoying this time of my life….I’m going to go insane. Actually, I kinda get it. I think the idea of dating could be a little dreamy when you have been married for years upon years, and your spur of the moment adventures and romantic dates are replaced by pizza on the run because you have to take Johnny to soccer practice and you had zero time to prepare a healthy dinner because, well, you work until 5 and practice starts at 5:45. And by the way….these supermoms out there who prepare their meals ahead of time, on the weekends, and they are all labeled and compartmentalized strategically in the freezer….you aren’t human. I don’t know what you are.

So about two years ago, I went through a pretty difficult divorce. I started dating pretty immediately. I know I know, everyone told me to wait. Everyone said to give myself some time to heal so that I could “find” myself. What the what? Find myself? I’m here. I know who I am. I’m a strong woman, I’m a mother, and I’m totally aware. #somuchnope. I wish I would have listened. I will never forget my first date after my divorce. He was the first guy to show some interest in me, and I had all of these idealistic and unreal expectations. We texted a ton prior to going on our first date. I probably secretly thought that he was the “one.” We went on our date, we kissed, he left, I left…..and that was the end of our love affair. He stopped texting and I was crushed. Clearly, he did not invest in this date mentally like I had. To him it was probably pizza and beer with some chick. Well to me, it was like, a knight in shining armor to make my ex jealous. High expectations mixed with bad timing, is a strong lesson learned on my part.

Ok, fast forward two years. To right now. I still don’t know what I want. But I will say, I know what I don’t want. I have been on many first dates. I have had many “I appreciate you taking me out but I will never ever ever call you again because you were under the impression my clothes would come off on the first date” dates.  (God, I hope my pastor isn’t reading this).  And I’ve had  a few that have lasted quite a few months but timing was everything, and the time wasn’t right now. Then I had that one. The one that made me stop dead in my tracks. The one that made me question everything and made me feel like I was everything. And it scared me fully and completely because I realized that I had masked all of my hurt over the years by filling it with a whole lot of first dates and ….you know….the other kinda dates I don’t want my pastor to read about. While that love affair was real and exciting….it was difficult.

So here I am filling my time with blogging about my failed marriage and first dates that never seemed to quite take off. But I realize now that there is a reason for all of the above. While I’ve been so busy and consumed with pursuing and looking and trying to find the hidden messages and intent on analyzing and picking apart every single scenario and conversation and break up…..I lost me in the pursuit. So it’s time I rearrange that last sentence….