This is one of those topics that ruffles feathers. Tell a woman (or a man) who is emerging from a long-term relationship that they aren’t ready to date. Go ahead. I double-dog dare you. Because you are going to get a defensive response you probably won’t expect.
What you might hear could be phrases like:
- “Our marriage was going downhill for a long time. Trust me, I am ready to move on.”
- “I’m glad my marriage is over. It was toxic. I am all good now.”
- “It’s just dating, it’s not like I am going to get married next week”.
- “You don’t know how I feel inside. I am ready. I’m already on all the dating apps!”
- “I miss sex. Sex will make me feel better.”
Those came easily to me for one reason; I’ve said them. Emerging from three years of incredible adversity in our marriage, I was so sure I was ready. I wanted to know what it felt like to be with someone who appreciated me. Someone lighthearted and fun. I wanted the deep intellectual conversations and banter that were absent from my relationship. I wanted the connection I hadn’t felt in so long, with a man.
Specifically, my type of man. The unicorn I allude to all the time. Rarer than a unicorn, most of the good ones really are married. And did a better job of choosing partners clearly than I did. I envy them. That was the path I wanted. One soulmate for the rest of my life. Somehow, that mission got borked.
Machine Gun Dating as a Method of Coping With Grief and Pain
It’s kind of like an addiction I suppose. When you think about it. Doesn’t someone with a drug or alcohol problem indulge, in order to forget the pain? Therefore, I embraced my new freedom. Hastened to start dating. Threw myself into the blender of happenstance. Eventually, I would find something that was good right? After all, isn’t it a process of filtering results?
I was confused why I wasn’t finding the kind of guys I wanted to date. I got a course correction that actually came from a guy. And I have to tell you, it hurt more than a little. But I am coachable. I like to learn and I like to be corrected when I am doing something wrong. Performance orientation I suppose. Or just the desire to be the best person I can be. And have the happiest life I can create for myself.
Learning is important. Lifelong learning. And the first and most important thing you have to master is yourself. Your own emotions. And that doesn’t only mean liking what you see in the mirror. It is paying attention to how other people perceive you. Because there are some truisms in that feedback that can smart, like a spanking to the ego. But they are nonetheless true.
I read some articles and watched a few divorce recovery videos. Bah! What do you need to do to recover from a divorce? But it is not the actual act of divorce that is the killing blow. And it is not the grief of ending something toxic. It goes deeper than that.
You loved someone. You gave it your all. They obliterated you. Took you for granted, and made your life hell for years. And yet somehow, a move seven hours away to a bright shiny new city and SHAZAM! HEALED! Grief comes as a surprise even to me. Not that I miss him (I don’t… I miss the kids terribly). The grief takes a different shape. It is pain. Agonizing pain.
And instead of letting an infected wound heal, I was trying to slap bandages on it. There has been an infection festering as a result because I refused to look at the wound. Or acknowledge it.
Let’s Talk About That Pain Shall We? (Even Though I Really Don’t Want To)
The details are not what are important. The “why’ is not important anymore, nor the minutia or itemizing every crime against me. I know what he did. He knows what he did. What I haven’t fully accessed is the full extent of the damage. Because you see, I had to buck up and get stuff done. Be tough. Execute the move. Resettling in a strange new city. Care for my dogs. Learn how to assemble furniture.
Okay, I hired some dudes from TaskRabbit but I did try. I now have a pink drill with screwdriver bits I will never use. But huzzah to female empowerment and independence. Rawr!
I have a habit of ignoring my own feelings. I do know where this comes from, and it’s been a lifelong coping mechanism. Pretending it doesn’t exist is a good strategy right? Because then you can ignore it and it might go away. I am generally more confrontational about other things. Money matters. Cleaning my house. I don’t shirk responsibility. But when it comes to internal audits?
I’ll avoid those like a MF. Because my Dad taught me that women are weak and emotional creatures. So, if you allow your emotions to rule you, then you are not a strong person. I am a very sensitive person under this armor. I suppress my emotions. This is why this blog exists. The one place I can let it out safely. And evaluate it all.
What Damage?
Me? Damage? Nah… I’m good. [Flex] Onward and upward! It’s that independent streak in me again. I’ve never had the kind of parents that sheltered me emotionally. I’ve been the emotional shelter for many people I love. But I won’t take that sheltering myself. Except for two people. And I lost one of them this year to Cancer.
This year I coped with the death of my beloved Aunt who was a surrogate mother to me. I want to say that I am okay, but I am really not. I’m trying. She’d kick my butt to see the tears I cry over her weekly. Sometimes I hear her voice telling me to relax. Go have a nap. Go shopping. Do something fun. “Take care of yourself Lori. You never do that, and it hurts me to see that you always come last on your list”.
My former devastated me. My trust. My sense of karma, or giving good to get bad things in return. My sense of worth, because, after all, my value was tied to money, not emotion. Not my personality. Not my love. I was used. And I let him use me. Some members of his family were cruel to me. So much rejection. So much exploitation. I saw it. I allowed it. I wanted to be loved and belong.
And I feel stupid for not seeing things as they actually were. Really stupid. And there is anger inside me directed at myself. Diane says that my negative self-talk has never been worse. And she verbally smacks me for it. Not to be mean, but to help me see it and hear it. She’s right. My self-love is buried right now. And there is a lot of self-hate going on. Not because I feel I did something wrong. But because I feel stupid that I stayed in something so wrong, for so long.
I’m smarter than that. So why did I? Marriage vows? Yeah. Moving to another country? Sure. Because starting from 2017, if we were living in Toronto and not married? I definitely would have broken up with him. But I believe that you have to give a relationship everything you have. Be strong. Vows mattered to me. I thought that was my forever and imagined years with the kids, grandkids, and a life in retrospect he would have never built. At his core, a self-destructive nature and criminality.
I feel like I let myself get played. Wasted ten years of my life. And willfully ignored the red flags. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. I guess that is where the negative self-talk is coming from. I haven’t forgiven myself for being that dumb.
But I need to. My inner guidance system is messed up right now and off-kilter. And there is a governor on my joy button. Not a euphemism (hehe). Although the libido starting to come back is a good sign I guess. I thought I was impotent for most of the summer. Turns out, I was just in emotional shock and not addressing it properly.
His addictions and behavior scared me to death in the last few months we lived under the same roof. I have dreams sometimes like flashbacks. And I hate it when it happens. I usually end up cleaning the holy hell out of the house that day. In an effort to exhaust me, so I am too tired to have any dreams at all.
5 Reasons Why You Shouldn’t Date Immediately After a Breakup
Someone seriously pissed me off in the last week. By telling me the truth. My best friend does it all the time. But she kind of puts it on a plate and pushes it toward my bat cave. I pull it grudgingly into the dark cave where I reside and consume it. Thanking her, but mildly insisting her insight is incorrect. You’re wrong. That’s not me. That’s not what is going on.
Strangely by the next morning, when I have processed the wise morsel, I see the truth in it. I guess that is how much time it takes for my ego to stop defending and for my common sense to kick in. And pragmatism. Yeah, you are right. The good thing? I do go back and tell people when they are right. Even when I reject the notion at first.
Diane, you are always right. My new acquaintance? Dead on. But you both already knew that. And thank you for pointing me in the right direction. Or caring enough to do that. It means more than you know. There are five main reasons why I shouldn’t be dating right now.
1 – Absolutely Not Done Processing The Grief
I am totally over my divorce. Seriously, 100%. Me? What divorce? Just because the relationship was on life support for years does not mean those years count toward the healing process. They do NOT. They were an exercise in pain, disappointment, and coping the best I could. There is no healing in that zone! It’s like trying to repair a ship when the enemy is still firing artillery at it. No, we did not sink (good girl). But there are holes everywhere.
And that doesn’t make me a bad person. To admit it or acknowledge the existence of that damage. I loved him. I was a good wife and a good person. Still an epic step-mom and glad I have my relationship with Stephanie and the kids intact. But instead of being the solid piece of Canadian smoked cheddar I was when I started this journey with him, I am Swiss Cheese.
How do I know? Because smart people who actually have good hearts can see those holes. Despite my best attempts to camouflage them. This explains why I was drawing dates with players frequently. They too can see those holes in me. And calibrate an attack based on my current lack of emotional solvency.
2 – Trying to Run Away From Confronting The Pain
I don’t want to be broken! This isn’t fair! There, hear that? So did I. Inner child is allowed to speak sometimes, and more often these days. But she has to shout to get through the filters. And the shield of my ego telling the world that I am fine. I am not fine. I’m functioning. But I am still in pain.
But hurting isn’t really allowed in today’s society. Perhaps if I had a closer family, I’d feel some kind of support or shelter. That’s okay though. It is what it is, and I am used to being my own shelter. Always have been. This is mostly ego though, isn’t it? I don’t think I deserve to look weak, or damaged, or in any way deficient. I don’t deserve to be damaged. I don’t deserve … this.
I have a friend who is a musician in Pennsylvania. Michael told me that once I stop deflecting the pain, and sit with it. Meditate on it, that I will start to heal. It’s like a bloody Pandora’s box though. The pain is sitting in a box in the corner of every room. It’s ominous. It’s bulging or feels that way. That sucker is going to explode if I don’t take the lid off.
Sometimes I get brave and hold the box with oven mitts on. But then put it down short of removing the lock. What if what comes out of there can’t be conquered? What if it paralyzes me? What if it messes up my ability to work or function? That’s never been a problem for me (I’m Iron Woman). I fear the box and all it contains. And I wish it would just disappear. Even though I know now, it will not.
And now I have to figure out how to open it. And let that crap out. Gently. So it doesn’t tip my damned apple cart and messes me up. Or break my heart. Again. I mean at this point, I feel like Japanese Kintsugi Urushi. The art of mending broken things with gold. Except I am trying to hide the cracks.
3 – Not Settled Through My Transition Yet
I don’t feel like Austin is home. I tried to find the best deal I could and by most people’s standards, my townhouse in Austin is a steal. Sadly, rent will be going up astronomically. That means I’ll be downsizing. But do I want to stay in Austin?
Rent is going up everywhere. I was spoiled by a cheap mortgage for years. So, it is an adjustment for sure. If I was living in Toronto I would be paying the same rent. That weighs on me. Should I move home? I miss my family and friends. But in the strangest way, Texas feels like home to me now. And America does too. I want to be a citizen. After all that happened, I am so close to it, I feel I should see it through. And then decide.
Sure, city life is way different than the small north Texas town I hid… erm… lived in. But the poetry read this week excited me. Being around people like me excites me. I’m not fancy but I like doing things. And Austin is the city that everyone wants to spend time in and live in right now.
I’ve decided until I am ready to buy a house again (post-medical debt clean up) I am going to stay in Austin. I feel the vibe. It is fresh and creative, and fun, and ACCEPTING here. Dog-friendly AF. I may not feel social right now but that could change. With time and healing. And who knows, maybe I will qualify for a $400k mortgage once the medical debt is cleared. My career is going well. It could happen. If money were not an object I would buy a house in Austin. So I think I will stay here for a bit.
I miss having someone to do things with. And I hate being lonely. But I’ll have to work on that by taking myself out on more “me dates”. Making time to do fun stuff for me. Because I never do that. And getting over the apprehension of doing stuff on my own. I need to.
4 – Using Dating as a Placebo or Distractionary Tactic
Anyone you date right now, you are using as a placebo. NO, I AM NOT! (Yes you are). Because by acknowledging that you aren’t emotionally whole right now, what do you have to offer someone else? Very little. I am more fun when I am not this heavy in my internal house. If that makes sense.
I had to program something into my head recently. You are not ready to date. And any person worthy of dating you will see that. Because they are not opportunistic. They are not exploitative. They are intuitive enough to see the pain even when you skillfully hide it from people who are, perhaps, less intelligent. The people I like and want to be friends with? Or the kind of boyfriend I really want to meet? They will know I am not ready.
But the ‘hit it and quit it’ set … boy, they come after me like flies on honey. Wonder why? It is obvious. I am what they consider to be “the walking wounded” and perhaps an easy mark. But, kudos to my self-awareness I have dodged a few this Fall. Protected me by denying myself the drive-thru comfort that a warm body, but cold heart could provide.
Anyone worth having will recognize I need to do this work. And if I am worth having, I need to do this work. But most importantly, I just need to fix my inner peace. I will feel so much better when I am not walking like a ghost through Austin like a piece of Swiss cheese, riddled with holes in my spirit.
I’m a woman of substance. I know this work is essential. But it is painful too. And I was hoping somehow, I could ‘fake it till you make it” strategize my way through the emotional turmoil. I can’t. I have no poker face. I reek of pain. I am also embarrassed by that. But trying to be kinder to myself when I address it, in conversations with self.
What happened to me was 14/10 on the suck scale. It’s my job to heal myself. I think I pulled all the knives out but the wounds remain. And I need to start working on them one at a time.
5 – The Heart Needs Some Time to Repair
Hold up there, ADHD girl. Fast at everything. Well, almost everything *eyebrow wiggle*. Anyhow, I speed through stuff. Always. With a shocking level of accuracy, if I may be so confident to say so. But emotionality? Can you speed through that?
I am not damaged. I sustained damage. I am not a bad person. I am a good person that really bad things kept happening to for a long stretch of years. I am a powerful woman because I got myself out of the situation. But there is a cost to catharsis. The catharsis that created the break from freedom, is still an infection at the molecular level of my being.
When a friend was going through a bad divorce, I gave her perhaps the best piece of advice I have ever provided anyone in my life. “You can’t shout at a wound HEAL! HEAL RIGHT NOW! and expect it to heal. Emotional wounds are not like that. It takes time. Patience. Self-kindness, and forgiveness to heal the wound(s).
HEAL NOW!!!!!!!!!!! Nice try.
Time heals all wounds? Yeah. But only if you are self-aware enough to know that also requires work. That box is still sitting there. The lid is becoming corroded by what it contains. My pain. I think I’ll lift a small corner of it this weekend and let some of that pressure out.
It’s going to make a big mess if it explodes. And it will if I don’t do something about it. And no amount of dates, or kisses or romantic distractions are going to make that box go away. It’s my beast to conquer. And I will. It’s my top priority now. Aside from mastering the perfect sourdough bread, with starter that Diane sent me.
My bread is going to have a little piece of my best friend in it. Every time I make it. If that is not love, I don’t know what is.
