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My Big Fat Lesbian Life – Dating After Divorce 

In Blog, blogging, Break-up, Choose Joy, Christmas, dating, Divorce, equality, Facebook, Foolish Hearts, gay marriage, God, homosexuality, Lesbian, Lesbian Relationships, LGBTQ, Love, Marriage, minivan, Oregon, Portland, Rain, relationships, respect, sex, single, women, Writing on December 3, 2012 at 3:17 am

Ever live in one of those places that has one of those crummy water settings in the shower? It’s like you barely touch it, and it goes from freezing cold to scalding hot. You are standing there naked, usually with shampoo in your hair, and trying to dodge the extreme streams of water shooting at you.
My dating life has been pretty much the same way.

The dangers of dating, especially when you write a blog, is that you can’t really talk about some of the things going on in your mind, because the chances are they will read it. However, I am not dating any of these people any longer, and I really need to talk about it. One, to talk about how things have moved on in my life, and also because I learned a lot from the past few years. It would be ridiculous to try and say that some of these experiences haven’t impacted change in my life one way or another. In fact, the blog “Bullshit” was an epiphany I had while dating someone, and is what gave me the ability to call her up and drop her like I probably should have done after the first date.

There is one person who I encountered before my ex wife, and I need to share about her. I know this is about how my life has moved on since my ex, but she has woven herself in my heart and she played an important role. Her name was Bea (not her real name). It wasn’t a relationship, in fact she was just ending a 2 year relationship when I reconnected with her. I am not sure what it was, or how she defined it. I do know that I loved her. Back in mid 80s in high school I had a crush on her. She couldn’t come near me without my palms sweating, and I could never really look at her without feeling that rush of blood going to my face. I don’t think I spoke a full sentence to her being able to make eye contact with her. She was like a dream. Her smile, the way she carried herself, her laugh… it all penetrated my very being. I wanted to be close to her, but I lacked confidence. Fast forward to 2009 and I had found her on Facebook. I dropped her a line and we reconnected. When I laid eyes on her all those years later, it was like being in high school all over again. Exactly like high school all over again… I still lacked composure when she was near. I still remember our first kiss. It was everything I had thought it would be, soft and wonderful. Things didn’t turn out so well (I really don’t want to bring up all the details that took me so long to grow through) but I don’t think she ever knew to the extent of how much my heart broke after things turned messy, and I have never told her. I can state the reasons why it was a mess, I was in such a different place then, but I could never bring myself to tell her just how much I had loved her, how much she meant to me, and how I just wanted to make her smile. Instead, I just cut her out of my life. It was the easier, less painful road for me to take at the time. I cried for months, and I wore my friends ears out over that. I must have picked up the phone to call her what seemed like a million times just to hear her voice, but instead I’d just sit and stare at her number on my screen and eventually just put my phone in my pocket. All the texts I’d type out, then just erase. I can’t play the “If I could only go back in time” game in my mind, so I don’t. But hindsight is 20/20 and I do wish I had been in a much better place in my life during that time.

There was one more woman I met before I met my ex. There was an interest there, but we never dated. I am eternally thankful for her friendship. She needs a mention here, because she is a truly beautiful person. I’ll call her Songbird.

Then there was my ex. Since the first whole year of this blog has been about her, I think you get the picture. What. A. Mistake.

Then there was the first person I dated after my ex. I’ll call her Thunder. She made me feel attractive again. After a year and a half living with the Siberian Queen of Winter, it was nice to feel attractive, desired and even capable. Thunder and I were compatible in some ways, and in others.. not so much. She was a spitfire, she still is. There were times she would say things that would just cause me to stop in my tracks. I felt she lacked a filter at times. and at times it was overwhelming. But she also could make me laugh until I had tears in my eyes. And the sex….. I’ll be honest, it was the most functional thing we had going for us some of the time. She was present, and it was nice to feel like I was in bed with someone. If you’ve ever been in a bad relationship, you know what I am talking about. That feeling of loneliness that comes with sharing the same bed with someone who just isn’t emotionally there. It is one of the worst feelings of loneliness I have ever experienced. I broke it off with Thunder, and it took time for us to restore a friendship, but she will always be an important part of my journey.

After Thunder, I spent some time just dating. I met some nice people, and some really messy people. One lady comes to mind, and to this day still makes me cringe when I think about it. I spent two hours seated across from this woman as she told me every single sexual encounter she had ever had in all of her life, including the man she slept with 3 months prior “just to make sure” she was gay. She ended her long tale with the closing sentence of “I’m lucky I never caught anything.” I was horrified. She later went on the blow my texts up with proclamations of how she wanted to be a part of my world. Uh…. no.

There was Beaverton. OK so that is not her name, but it is where I would see her for lunch. It wasn’t a relationship, but we dated. I really liked her a lot. She was pretty hot and cold though, just like that shower I was talking about. One minute she seemed really into it, and the next.. I had no idea. I was often confused as to what was going through her mind, and so I couldn’t really emotionally move anywhere with it. I was pretty disappointed, because I really liked her. But I couldn’t take the hot & cold mess. I never knew from one to the next if I sent her a text, that she would freak out and think I was getting serious, or if I didn’t text her and she would think I didn’t care. Since I would go for a few days in between hearing from her, I just never knew if she was coming or going. I ended up writing her a note and just ending it. I still smile when I think of her, because despite everything, she made some really sweet memories for me.

Then I met someone through a mutual friend. I’ll call her Cave. The reason I will call her cave, is because she really should have just moved to one. She was in the middle of a divorce from her wife.. dating mistake number 1. Mistake number 2 was even going on a second date with her. At first she seemed kind, and compassionate. But as time moved on, I realized that there was this depressive darkness that just seemed oppressing, all around her. It slowly started to creep into my own life, and even my friends were asking me where my joy had gone. I smiled less, I laughed less, and I seemed tense a lot of the time. I was tired a lot, and seemed to drag my feet. It happened almost without me knowing. One day I was happy… me. Then a few months down the road, and I am just going through the routines of the day. She was toxic to me. One day she would be so kind and so gentle. The next, she wouldn’t answer the phone or texts because she needed space. She did this with her friends as well. She would just shutdown. It often left me wondering if I did something wrong, and if I asked she would tell me “no’ but would proceed to talk to me as though I had. She was abrasive, and yet would expect me to remain gentle despite her tone or words. Then she would accuse me of not being “connected” or “feeling” her. It was like being caught in the spiral of water heading down a drain. There is so much a person can endure, and I honestly just couldn’t take it anymore. The whole experience was like walking in the dark with no clue where the light switch was.

So then I met the last person I dated. She seemed to be the opposite of Cave, and that was my initial attraction. She was funny, moved around through the day, respected her faith, and I was drawn to what I thought was light. What I thought was light, turned out to be the first layer of many that were the onion of dysfunction. I’ll call her Onion. Onion and I only dated a few months before I made the call and broke it off with her. I let her feel it was a mutual decision after presenting to her the reasons why we shouldn’t date, but the truth is I was not going to date her again whether she agreed or not. We only dated a couple of weeks before she flew back to see her parents for a wedding. It would be another month before I spent any real time with her after that. The most I saw her was to pick her up from PDX after her returning flight, and took her home the next morning. But not before Onion had carelessly brought poison ivy into my home. She had contracted it while back home, and I begged her to please be considerate in how she cleaned it off before coming to my home. I have to admit I was really taken back when she sat on my couch crying because she was having separation anxiety from her parents (her explanation) after the flight. Little did I know at that time, that I needed to be as persistent with her as I would have to be with a teenager, because she ended up tracking poison ivy it into my home, and I ended up getting it on my leg. I didn’t want to see her for two weeks after that. Her nonchalant attitude about it, was even worse. It was the first red flag of lack of respect of space, and sadly wasn’t the last. The vision that stayed with me thought, was when I walked out to my kitchen and caught her in my cupboards, eating chips out of a bag. That might not seem like a big deal to most, but I was raised with respect of other peoples space and homes. I would never dream of just walking in, tossing open a cupboard and start eating your flipping chips. Yet, I found myself seeing her as teenager trapped in the body of a woman from that moment on. Every connection with her just seemed unbalanced with me, and I even started to wonder if she really just needed to pack her stuff up, and move into her parents basement. Maybe that is a harsh thing to say, but she was very dependent on them in ways a woman in her 40s really shouldn’t be. It felt so good to just end that disaster.

During the last dating escapade, is when I was talking with my pal Nancy and came to the realization that I have a high tolerance for bullsh*& from people. I could never figure out why I seemed to give things more of a chance than it really deserved. I would meet broken people, and allow broken behavior. I wanted something functional and happy, but it just never happened. I would enter into something with the hopes that it would be good, but the first shot of dysfunction and I would just shrug my shoulders and say “OK”.. Of course I knew it was dysfunction, but I never really understood to the levels of dysfunctional it was. My childhood had made desensitized me in a way, and made me just accept it as something that could be dealt with, because I had the survival skills to deal with it. But once I realized that it’s really not OK on any level, and I don’t have to deal with it, that was it. My bullsh*& tolerance is really much more smaller now. In fact, I really don’t care to ever deal with it. I know relationships go through things and seasons. I get that. In dating though? No.. I am so done with putting myself though the bs.

So what do I want?

Gentleness. Kindness. Compassionate. Honest. Loyal. Patient. Knows how to smile. Has interests outside of mine. Willing to share interests with each other. Soft spoken, but not passive. Has faith. Has hope.

The past 4 years has taught me more about what it is I am wanting in a relationship, and what I am unwilling to put up with from another person. I’ve made mistakes along the way, and I am not claiming to be without blame in any of the above mentioned situations. I am sure they have their side of how things went, but this is from my perspective. I do know the last two experiences especially were my breaking point, and my teaching moments. Perhaps I should thank them in some odd way, for providing me some growth moments.

Compromise and meeting someone where they are, is one thing in a partnership. But in a dating relationship, you really should be having fun as you get to know each other. It doesn’t have to be this intense situation where you are finding yourself make soft spaces to fall for the other person, merely to avoid a confrontation or because you are afraid to say ‘this is what I want’ and you aren’t willing to settle. It’s not like I am saying “Gee, I can’t date you because you drive a Honda and I only date those who drive Toyota.” No.. This is my future, my happiness, my choice for a life partner. I want to be happy. I want to be happy with someone else. I want to share my space with someone I can make laugh, smile, feel love and appreciated. I would like that in return.

The past 4 years I have had my heart broken, I have felt restored, I have had tears, I have had smiles.. but now is the time I can allow myself to say what it is I want from another person, and not feel like I’m being too selective. Is it really being too selective to say “Hey, I’d like you to be healthy too, because I’m ready for a mature and balanced relationship.”? No.. But we tell ourselves way too often that if we are somehow standing on that ground that we are just not compromising. When in reality we are compromising our own standards for what we would like to share with another person.

That is just one crummy shower to take for the next 50 years with someone else.

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My Big Fat Lesbian Divorce – Thank You

In 2011, AP News, attorneys, Blog, Blue Like Jazz, Break-up, C.S. Lewis, cancer, children, Choose Joy, christian, Christmas, civil unions, clothing, coat hangers, Come Here Go Away, communication, cookies, court, Crying, Current events, dating, desert, Divorce, domestic, equality, Facebook, failure, family, fashion, fast car, feelings, finances, Fleetwood Mac, Flowers, Foolish Hearts, Friend, gardening, gay marriage, get a life, God, grief, health, Henry Miller, homosexuality, Jell-O, Kiss, Laughing stars, Law, law enforcement, Lesbian, Lesbian Relationships, lgbt, Love, Marriage, minivan, Musician, Natasha Bedingfield, Netflix, New York, news, NYE, Oregon, Pain, parenting, Pears, people, pictures, Politics, Portland, portland oregon, promises, Questions, Rain, Regret, relationships, religion, same sex, school, September, single, sleep, Steve Perry, Steve Taylor, stress, Uncategorized, vehicle, vows, wedding, women, Writing on January 17, 2012 at 12:32 am

After much thought, I decided this letter belongs as the last entry under My Big Fat Lesbian Divorce heading. It’s really more of a morph (non Power Rangers style, though I’d like to be the Pink Power Ranger if I had to choose).

In saying that, I’m struggling for the words to open a good-bye letter. Saying “good-bye” has never been my strong suit. I’ve led a life of good-byes while I’ve longed for a life of “Hello”.

But you didn’t say good-bye to me or the boys, and in retrospect, neither did we to you. Rather, we’ve lived our good-bye through each day we’ve discovered our laughter and ourselves once again.

So, let me start by saying Thank You.

I didn’t know where this journey of uprooting myself and the children to move up here would lead us. Of course I had hoped it would lead us to a better level of a new chapter in our lives, and it has. Just….without you. At first I felt that was more of an ending, but in reality it’s become a beginning.

I know I cried a lot after moving up here. I had left behind open skies, the sound of crickets at night, and the quiet streets. But despite the reasons we married, I had left it all behind because I made a commitment and I wanted to see where that journey could lead us all as a family. It wasn’t easy but that was the level I believed in my keeping my word. It wasn’t what we agreed on when we decided to marry that day we went to the courthouse, but still….

I thought despite things hadn’t come into my life as I had hoped, that it could somehow grow into what I dreamed of once I moved and in time.

Maybe I didn’t see you as my partner the way I should have when we decided to marry, but I gave it my all to grow into love with you and to be your wife. Eventually I did, but by that time I had also realized that our union was in reality a business arrangement between two people for your job, and would never really be the loving relationship of two hearts discovering each other in the natural progression I had longed for. By that time though, emotions were involved so walking away became a tangled mess. I should have walked away much sooner, but I can’t question or second guess myself anymore, because things turned out exactly as they should.

Since I’ve lived here on my own, I’ve discovered my own heart, my own voice, and my own open skies once again. Perhaps meeting you was exactly what I needed to move me to this new level of my life that’s opened up new and different opportunities for the boys and I.

B is flourishing in his new school, C is mainstreamed without an aide, G is reaching new milestones and D is excelling academically. Who knows if any of that would be the case had we not moved.

I’ve made new friends, explored new opportunities, found that I’m much stronger than I’ve ever given myself credit for, and learned to trust myself once again.

I’ve also found that I know exactly what I’m longing to feel with another person and a liberty to allow myself the freedom to feel it without reserve when it comes. I’ve had opportunities to do just that, but I haven’t settled. Because I’ve heard my voice when I filed for our divorce, and I liked the sound of my own strength.

So Thank You.

I say that without malice, sarcasm or for any other reason than to simply thank you.

You were the train ride here, that held a work shop of lessons that I needed to learn, for whatever reasons I needed. I appreciate that and I’ll always thank you for that.

But now, I need to tell you Good-Bye openly with my words instead of just living it as I have. The boys have said good-bye in their own ways, so I’m not just saying this as your ex wife, but also as your ex family.

We’re good.

I wish you love, happiness and I truly hope you find the peace you’re so desperately seeking. I hope you find healing, hope and joy. I hope many good things for you. I’m pretty sure neither of us had planned for it to end as badly as it did. That’s OK.

Because I’m exactly where God has planned all along.

If you listen to this song, you’ll hear exactly where my heart is in writing this. It starts when Chris Colfer sings, and ends with my

Good-Bye.

My Big Fat Lesbian Divorce – When The Mail Makes You Cry

In Aaron Jamison, AP News, Blog, blogging, Break-up, Choose Joy, christian, Christmas, Comedian, communication, court, Crying, Current events, dating, Divorce, equality, Facebook, failure, family, feelings, Friend, friendship, gay, God, grief, healing, health, Husband, Kiss, Laughing stars, Lesbian, Lesbian Relationships, lgbt, LGBTQ, Life, Love, Marriage, military, Myspace, Oregon, Pain, parenting, people, pictures, portland oregon, relationships, religion, single, The Little Prince, wedding, women, Writing on December 21, 2011 at 8:12 pm

Penguin oh penguin wherefore art thou oh penguin?

Yes, my penguin. It’s what I say when I talk with sparkles in my eyes, romantic thoughts on my heart and dreams in my head. I long to meet my penguin. My life partner.

I spent a portion of my morning daydreaming. I was reflecting in the past months that I’ve been healing and gained some experience in the dating scene. So it was with a bit of wonderment that I let myself daydream and ask that question “when might I meet my penguin?”. I believe in love, so I haven’t given up, but I’m also not so stressed about it that I’m clinging to every possibility put there. I want a healthy love, not just any love.

I felt a little pang of wanting to be romanced and wished I had a lover who wanted to text me “Good Morning Beautiful” or something so sweet that makes me smile in that way only a lover can move me. To feel thought of in that way that women like to be thought of (well, me anyways).

Putting away my daydreams so as not to get lost, a knock at the door grounded my feet. It was UPS and thought at first it was the wrong apt. I don’t normally get packages.

Looking at the box, and not recognizing the sending address, I opened it to find a beautifully wrapped pressie. The card indicated it was sent from my friend Ta (obviously not her full name, but I haven’t asked her permission to call her out by name). I met Ta through my friend Aaron shortly before he passed, and she is a beautiful extension of friendship I had in him. His life literally rippled to mine.

I thought about slipping it under the tree, but thought “really?” and decided to open it right then and there.

Before me was one of the most beautiful snow globes I’ve ever held, and inscribed on the front is “Lia – Your Penguin is out there – Ta”

I cried.

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My Big Fat Lesbian Divorce – Bruce Hornsby

In Blog, blogging, Break-up, cancer, christian, Christmas, civil unions, communication, cookies, court, Crying, Current events, dating, Divorce, domestic, Edgefield McMenamins, equality, Facebook, failure, family, feelings, Friend, gay, gay marriage, God, grief, healing, homosexuality, Lesbian, Lesbian Relationships, lgbt, LGBTQ, Life, Love, Marriage, movies, Musician, Myspace, New York, news, Oregon, Politics, portland oregon, relationships, religion, sex, women, Writing on December 18, 2011 at 9:51 pm

** (added 12/25) Today I was asked where this song came from, what made me think of it. There have been three people who at one time or another who had an impact on my heart in a way that relates to this song. One being my ex wife of course, one was my first big crush in high school (that girl made me a mess every time she was near) and the other … well, they know who they are. All three have a thread that when woven together, have a place in this song. The song expresses perfectly how I see them through my eyes… through my heart… at one time or another. It’s been painful yet beautiful growth. I think this song expresses that part of my journey perfectly. **

Years ago I was in radio. I started out learning the business playing Madonna and Cyndi Lauper 45s. Among the piles, was Bruce Hornsby. I didn’t really listen to him much, mostly because I didn’t get his music. I was in my teens, and while I had experienced some harsh life lessons already, I hadn’t experienced what Bruce was singing about. The beauty of his music escaped me, because I hadn’t felt the pain of a lovers broken heart yet.

Lately I’ve been drawn to his music … and I realize that somewhere along the way between that teen spinning 45s and now, that I finally get it. It’s like discovering a part of my youth that could only be understood through the heart of the adult me (minus the big hair).
Thank You Bruce.

Mandolin Rain lyricsMandolin Rain
B. R. Hornsby/John Hornsby

The song came and went
Like the times that we spent
Hiding out from the rain under the carnival tent
I laughed and she’d smile
It would last for awhile
You don’t know what you got till you lose it all again

Listen to the mandolin rain
Listen to the music on the lake
Listen to my heart break every time she runs away
Listen to the banjo wind
A sad song drifting low
Listen to the tears roll
Down my face as she turns to go

A cool evening dance
Listening to the bluegrass band takes the chill
From the air till they play the last song
I’ll do my time
Keeping you off my mind but there’s moments
That I find, I’m not feeling so strong

Listen to the mandolin rain
Listen to the music on the lake
Listen to my heart break every time she runs away
Listen to the banjo wind
A sad song drifting low
Listen to the tears roll
Down my face as she turns to go

Running down by the lakeshore
She did love the sound of a summer storm
It played on the lake like a mandolin
Now it’s washing her away again

Listen to the mandolin rain
Listen to the music on the lake
Listen to my heart break every time she runs away
Listen to the banjo wind
A sad song drifting low
Listen to the tears roll
Down my face as she turns to go

The boat’s steaming in
I watch the sidewheel spin and I
Think about her when I hear that whistle blow
I can’t change my mind
I knew all the time that she’d go
But that’s a choice I made long ago

Listen to the mandolin rain
Listen to the music on the lake
Listen to my heart break every time she runs away
Listen to the banjo wind
A sad song drifting low
Listen to the tears roll
Down my face as she turns to go

My Big Fat Lesbian Divorce – Dear Diary

In Aaron Jamison, AP News, attorneys, Blog, Brother, cancer, Cancer Sucks, children, Choose Joy, christian, civil unions, clothing, coat hangers, communication, court, Crying, Current events, dating, Divorce, equality, Facebook, failure, family, feelings, finances, Flowers, Foolish Hearts, Friend, friendship, gay, gay marriage, God, grief, healing, health, homosexuality, Kiss, Laughing stars, Law, Lesbian, lgbt, LGBTQ, Life, Love, Marriage, military, money, movies, New York, news, Oregon, parenting, people, Politics, Portland, portland oregon, promises, Questions, Regret, relationships, religion, single, stress, The Little Prince, vehicle, vows, wedding, Wedding Ring, women, Writing on December 4, 2011 at 2:32 am

Dear Diary,

I’ve had a lot of things going on lately. It seems like life just keeps moving on, and I get so lost in living. It’s when I lay my head down at night, that I hear the sounds that my thoughts make. Sometimes it sounds like yelling, crying, grief, joy and at times it’s peace.

I had an amazing miracle recently, I want to talk about it so much. But I think I need to just write out the things that are on my mind in the very present.

It’s Christmas season. It’s been almost 8 months since I asked my ex to please leave the apt. There is a lot of healing, though my mind took me back to last year. I don’t miss her anymore, in the intimate way a partner misses their lover. In fact, I rarely miss her at all. If I am really quiet and still, I realize I actually never miss her anymore. But it’s Christmas, and I go back to last year when we were picking out our tree at the nursey up the road. Watching the boys carry it and load it into the back of her truck, so adorable.

I don’t remember if she was even home last year when we decorated the tree. I was so emotionally drained from the relationship, you know that diary. Every day was a moment to awaken, and stand against the wind. At least that is what it felt like. I was so conflicted. I wanted out of the situation, away from her.. but I grieved that I wanted it as much as I did. I wanted to want my wife.. my marriage, more.

But here it is December and we’ve put up our tree and decorated it. It was peaceful. We came across the stocking we made her. I just looked at it for a moment. It ended up in the trash. There was no grieving what I wanted my marraige to be, because now it is nothing more than a memory. It has nowhere to go. There is no reconcilliation, there is no healing the relationship.. there is no wanting to.

It’s been a year now, since my son was home on leave. A year since he showed me the growth on the back of his head. I made him promise to get it checked as soon as he got back to base. A year, so many surgeries and Doctors later……

My son is coming home for good in the early part of next year. After 6 pathologists and so many opinions, they can agree that he has had cancer. They are removing a part of growth in his thyroid in Feburary, as a precaution. He will be medically discharged. He’s been back on his base for a little bit now, as there is really nothing else to be done for him at the military medical hospy. He’s just waiting around now, for his surgery and discharge. Diary, you know how much I love my son. It’s so sad to think he has to deal with all of this.. shit. He’s such a beautiful soul. I want beautiful things to happen to him. Lots of amazing and beautiful things in the whole 130 years I want him to have.

I miss my friend Aaron. I saw him in a dream the other night. For some reason he walked out of the house with my brother, one I haven’t seen in quite some time. I have 2 biological brothers, and I haven’t seen either of them in years. I don’t know why, but my family is so separate. Aaron was a brother when I really had forgotten what it feels like to be a sister, or have someone make me feel like a sister. I wish that I had family around for the holidays, everyday. I have so much to be thankful for, my children and I make a family. Though I wish my siblings and I weren’t so disconnected.

Diary, my head is spinning with so many thoughts.

So many things.. my children, life, finances, the coming year… It’s hard to even know where to end this entry, because life keeps moving.

Perhaps I will just say Good Night.

http://youtu.be/mRnCC-wEYss

My Big Fat Lesbian Divorce – Failure… The Other “F” Word

In Blog, Break-up, Choose Joy, christian, civil unions, communication, court, Crying, Current events, dating, Divorce, divorce, domestic, equality, Facebook, failure, family, feelings, Friend, friendship, gay, gay marriage, God, grief, health, Lesbian, lesbian, lgbt, LGBTQ, Life, Love, love, Marriage, minivan, money, movies, New York, news, Oregon, Pain, Politics, Portland, portland oregon, promises, relationships, religion, same sex, sex, single, sleep, stress, vows, wedding, Wedding Ring, women, Writing, writing on November 21, 2011 at 6:00 am

I read the blog of another WordPress writer. She’s going through a divorce from her hubby, and I relate to some of the emotions she’s working through. She’s an absolutely amazing woman and I admire her courage as she shares her story.

She asked me a question that no ones asked before, but I’ve faced quietly many times with myself.

She asked me if I felt pressure not to have my marriage fail in light of the fact that marriage equality is becoming more and more of a reality. My response was….

“Excellent question.

Yes.

I felt like I was a horrible representation of everything couples have worked so hard to achieve for years. But, it was my own crummy choice in a partner that put me there, so I had to make good choices to get out. I hope that is something anyone in a bad relationship, no matter the orientation, can see that it’s possible to emotionally survive. If you’ve loved, you’ve experienced. Grief still processes without prejudice and healing comes like a long lost friend.”

I have to say that the more I’ve thought about it, that yes… I feel like I’ve done such an injustice to the work, sacrifices and tears put into the fight to openly love and be married. I know not every relationship is going to work out, straight or gay, but I know people are watching when you’re in a partnership that’s seen as a marriage.

Politically and religiously some people are ready to pounce and shout “A HA! See? There’s no integrity in gay marriage!” and so ready to use the failures as support to endorse their beliefs that gay marriage is wrong.

Love should be allowed to be equally recognized between two loving adults, regardless of gender. But please don’t use the failure of my marriage as an example of limited possibilities of a loving marriage.

I hope that my getting out of a bad situation can be seen as a representation of what it means to make a stand to do the right thing. That may not be a lot to advance the fight for marriage equality right now, but it contributes to the advancement of me evolving more into the woman God created me to be, and that’s empowering.

Just because my marriage failed doesn’t mean it was a complete failure, I grew a lot from the experience. I walked away stronger than ever. Not all failures fail to produce something wonderful.

I’d still love to meet someone to share life with, because I still believe in love and marriage. Importantly, because through the failure of my marriage I learned I still believe in myself.

That’s pretty successful.

My Big Fat Lesbian Divorce – Month 7

In Blog, Break-up, christian, civil unions, Come Here Go Away, communication, court, dating, Divorce, Facebook, family, feelings, Fleetwood Mac, Foolish Hearts, Friend, get a life, God, grief, homosexuality, kisses, Lesbian, Lesbian Relationships, lgbt, Life, Love, Marriage, Military, netfix, New York, news, Pain, portland oregon, relationships, sex, single, sleep, stress, vehicle, vows, wedding, women, Writing on November 9, 2011 at 6:15 am

Month 6 slipped by me without thought.

I guess I figured month 6 being the half way mark into my newly single life (since I had her asked to leave the apt), that some amazing moment would transpire within me, but instead it went by without thought.

I was dealing with the van thing (I’m still super thankful it’s gone), the now defunct attempt at spending time with someone (I’m really glad that’s over) and just… living.

Here it is and month 7 has passed. I admit it feels longer primarily in part I never have to see her (I’m reallythankful for that).

A few days ago the biggest stress in our home was the 7 year old stormed into my room, angry the his 11 year old brother was bossing his imaginary kangaroo around. While I know life has it’s ups and downs and invisible kangaroo interventions are only a part, I felt that peace that comes in knowing that life continues to move on.

My Big Fat Lesbian Divorce – Reckless People Dance

In Blog, Break-up, Come Here Go Away, communication, Crying, Current events, dating, domestic, Facebook, family, Foolish Hearts, Friend, gay, God, grief, kisses, Laughing stars, Lesbian, Lesbian Relationships, lgbt, Life, Love, Marriage, netfix, news, portland oregon, promises, relationships, religion, sex, single, sleep, Steve Perry, stress, vehicle, vows, wedding, women, Writing on November 4, 2011 at 11:56 pm

In my effort to make better choices in my life regarding people, I decided sometime ago not to continue seeing the woman I had been seeing since my divorce. While I experienced great sex (something I didn’t really have with the ex because she was a selfish lover), I had started seeing some of the warning signs that she wasn’t a good match for me.  So a few months in I broke it off with her. It wasn’t easy, because while I wasn’t really enjoying her company at all, I had also cared for her.

I had continued to see her in a more casual way for a little longer, simply because I thought that with breaking off the titles and and expectations that things might settle down and perhaps I could get to know her better in a more organic way (minus all the BS). However, I had increasingly become more and more aware of not only the red flags, but my own cycles that I seem to make in any type of relationship with people.

I think my own fears of abandonment (enter my alcoholic mother who was completely absent while I was growing up) leave me validated that if I stand and show I am present emotionally and physically, that I prove that I am ….

1.) Not my Mom

Now I already know I am not my Mom. I’m not even close to being anything like my Mom. Yet, I do find from time to time I have to prove that just to reassure myself that I am nothing like her. By not abandoning, I prove that. By engaging, I just keep doing the same stupid dance with the same destructive people.

Whatever the reasons I may be doing it, it has come to a stop.. or at least I am going to try to figure out how to see the red flags when they are first raised, stop and then run/walk/hop. Whatever it takes.

There were moments real early on, where I just wanted to walk away. So I know that I am gaining some ability to recognize the red flags. Now only to make my feet comply with my instincts.

I saw the classic “Come Here, Go Away” signs, but for those reasons above, I stood still. She talked about her past relationships in ways I could hear she was clinging to those who treated her poorly or rejected her, yet pushed off those who tried to make it work. That was pretty scary once I could hear what she saying.

Someday, I would like to be in a relationship where I do stand with my partner through the good times and the bad. But for all the right reasons. Not because I am trying to prove something to myself, but because we are standing together.

I asked someone I thought might have some connections to a life coach, about a love coach, and was recently given the name and number to Dr. Frankie. She writes the love advice column for Curve Magazine, and she also has a love coaching and matchmaking service.

Here is her website link –

http://littlegaybook.com

I highly suggest checking out the site. It’s wonderful.

I chatted with Dr. Frankie a bit, and found her super easy to talk to. I’m not sure how much dating I want to do right at this moment, but if I am going to, I do need to work on this pattern I seem to have established and start 1.) Recognizing the signs early on and 2.) Walking the heck away when I see them.

I have to give myself some credit, this time I only let it go for a few months before I said enough was enough. That is really a lot of growth compared to sticking it out like I did with my ex wife.

My Big Fat Lesbian Divorce – Reckless Train Rides

In AP News, attorneys, Ben and Jerrys Ice Cream Comfort, Blog, Break-up, Choose Joy, christian, civil unions, communication, court, Crying, Current events, dating, Divorce, Edgefield McMenamins, Facebook, family, feelings, Fleetwood Mac, friendship, gay, God, grief, homosexuality, Laughing stars, Law, Lesbian, Lesbian Relationships, lgbt, Life, Love, Marriage, movies, Musician, news, Pain, parenting, Politics, portland oregon, relationships, religion, sex, single, sleep, The Little Prince, Uncategorized on October 25, 2011 at 6:55 am

I’ve written three different paragraphs and I’ve deleted them all.

A Train Ride

(edited 10/2011)

Leaning against the window, I can feel the cool glass of the window pane against my cheek. True to the way a train moves down the tracks, it rocks back and forth and I find no comfort in leaning against the window other than my eyes are searching for a glimpse of the next stop.

Houses, small towns, fields sprinkled with colors of spring.. all pass by.

My bags are packed (well, really only one bag) and I am clutching the handles in my hands because I’m afraid I might let go and let it drop to the floor. There’s no room in the overhead for my things.

When I boarded I tried to find space for my bag. I glanced at some of the tags and noticed some of them had been there years. On the lip of the over head was a tag that read “Do not touch, ask about, or even think of moving the bags that are here upon your arrival” so I just tried to fit mine in between the hard shell cases left behind.

I looked around to see if anyone would notice me reaching up and tugging gently on one of the suitcases left behind. If I could just slip it down and move it behind a seat, no one would notice. The suitcase had been there for years, so I doubted the owner would be coming around to retrieve it anytime soon.

Pulling it down proved to be a bit more work. As I reached up to slip it down, it was as if the bag was glued to the shelf. As I stood there gently tugging, I glanced out the window and became mesmerized by the passing fields and the excitement of an unknown destination. I wasn’t focused on what I stood up to do in the first place and so somewhere between the distraction of the beauty and intrigue, I simply went back to my seat with my bag in my lap. As I realized the choice I had made, I thought maybe I would feel better if I kept my bag in my lap anyways, just in case the train asked me to unboard quickly.

Now as I sit here with my cheek pressed against the window, I can not clutch it tightly enough.

As I stand up between stops and walk up and down the empty aisles to stretch my legs, I’ve the train seems to take off rather quick. With no warning of departure, I’ve been unprepared for the the quick acceleration and stumbled a little to hurry back to find my seat. A few times falling backwards and being tossed back into the place where I was sitting like a last minute thought. But just as I was adjusting the seat, and getting comfortable, the train would come to a full stop void of warning and I would be thrust forward like a rag doll without care or consideration.

From time to time the train will come to a stop for a long period of time. I would sit waiting for other passengers to arrive, maybe someone looking to claim their baggage, but no one ever shows. As I stand to walk up and down the aisles to stretch my legs, I quietly wonder why there were so many seats on the train, if I am the only passenger. In fact, I realize I have never even seen the conductor or anyone else. Who is driving this train? I ponder this for a minute and decide to get off at this stop.

Suddenly this ride seems ominous to me. Just as I decide to get off at the stop, the train starts to pull away from the station. I realize at that moment I’m no longer holding my bag and I begin to panic. My most prized possessions were packed for this trip. My eyes search furiously as my heart races, then I see it. Somehow, it’s been moved to crowded overhead. I don’t remember fitting it in, yet I’m positive no one else could have. I quickly walk over to my bag to pull it down and find the bag is stuck to the overhead shelf. This time, I am not distracted by anything other than my clear determination to pull my bag down and quickly find my seat.

This time, I’m not looking to find space for my bag so that I may enjoy the ride. I want off.

The bag falls to my side and I rush to my seat.

As the sound of the train speeds down the track with distinct rhythm I think to myself “Oh God, let this be a short burst between stops.”

The rhythm counts each second as I move from place to place pushing to the next, wishing this ride to end. Now that I want to step off the train, it feels like the longest distance travelled at one time since I’ve boarded the train.

I lean against the window pane looking, hoping.. waiting.

Houses, small towns, fields sprinkled with colors of spring.. all pass by. This time I don’t smile with a feeling of warmth as the train rushes past, but a longing to be a part of it all again.

As they pass by I press my face a little more to the window hoping for a glimpse of the next station ahead. I want this train ride to end.

I see it. The station, there it is.

Standing up and clutching my bag in hand, I prepare myself for the quick and complete train stop by bracing myself with the seats as I walk towards the exit while the train is still moving.

The train comes to the complete stop it has so many times before, and I push to slide the exit door open. I move quickly to step down and I become still as I put my foot to the ground.

The station is empty.

My eyes sweep across looking for some sign of life, but even the air seems still.

I step fully down and have my right hand on the hand rail. Standing there, I am a little scared and sad about removing my hand.

I argue to myself for a minute about staying on the train and holding to the hope of arriving a destination filled with life, opposed to standing in a deserted station. But I know that sitting on a deserted train heading nowhere is nothing more than exactly that, and I can at least walk away from the station.

I am sure one of those small towns I passed through many times while on the train, is up ahead. Perhaps I will stop by one of the fields and pick some of the flowers that I have admired in passing.

My right hand falls to my side and I turn to the left. My heels against the concrete is the only audible sound as I walk across the platform away from the train, the station and the stillness while clutching my bag tightly.

Behind me I hear the train begin to move and in and in a matter of seconds it rushes past me in the same accelerated manner it has departed so many times before. It moves as quickly as it stops, I have never connected the pattern before now.

Within moments the train disappears from sight and only the faint sounds of the wheels against the tracks is all that is left, but fades quickly.

For a moment, I think I hear the train quickly approaching from behind and stopping abruptly at the station once again. Maybe just ghost sounds.. I don’t know.

I do not turn to look. – L.W. 6/17/2009

Sometimes I stay on the ride longer than I should for whatever reasons I do. Maybe it’s because I’m so smitten by the shiny things that I don’t see the scary things, or maybe it’s because I’m afraid it’s as good as it gets.

Whatever the reasons, I’m learning that if you want to know what the ride is going to be like, look to see what the ride was like for previous passengers. If you listen, you’ll hear.

My Big Fat Lesbian Divorce – Get A Life

In Blog, Break-up, christian, civil unions, coat hangers, communication, court, Crying, Current events, dating, Divorce, Edgefield McMenamins, Facebook, family, fast car, feelings, finances, Friend, gay, get a life, God, grief, health, homosexuality, Law, Lesbian, lgbt, Life, Love, Marriage, minivan, money, Monopoly, New York, news, Pain, Politics, portland oregon, promises, relationships, religion, sex, single, sleep, stress, vehicle, vows, wedding, women, Writing on October 21, 2011 at 7:38 am

I’d like to think that someday my ex will leave me completely alone.

I’ve worked on my healing. It’s been journaled, this walk I’ve taken steps to experience and to move forward on.

It feels harassing. The letters, the demands, the actions.

I wonder if this is what she did to her previous exes.

She could:

Learn to knit
Read a book
Go to counseling
Plant a garden
Train for a marathon

…. anything productive and nurtures self awareness and peace.

I feel sorry for the next woman who will have to discover on her own, the coming storm. It won’t be obvious at first. Everything will be so believable, possible.

I wish she would move on already.