I got invited to an event. A nice person coordinates a large, and really fun Facebook group. I spend too much time on Facebook. But in my defense, I live alone. I know no one in Austin, the new city I live in after selling our marital home. Sometimes I wonder why I moved here.
And then I remember that I am a social creature. I don’t want to be in the spotlight. I love (and crave) good conversations. A $20 night with a couple of drinks and Star Wars trivia sounded so good. I rushed last-minute and drove to Round Rock. A place I had never been before.
For me, that’s a lot. Because there is some risk-taking there. Would they like me? Not sure. I can be gregarious. I’m more self-conscious now than ever before. I think that is because I don’t have that foundation anymore. Husband came with family and lots of friends. Which I lost in the divorce, understandably. They weren’t mine to keep. And inevitably, everyone chooses sides in a divorce. It’s right that they aligned with him. They were his tribe.
My tribe resides in Ontario Canada. So yeah, I do have a tribe. Successful professionals. Down-to-earth people who love to have fun. Cool cousins. A sister I love more than she knows. My best friend who (bless her, seriously) has always been my lifeline.
I am a pack animal without a pack. And while I was absorbed with the shock of the divorce and healing process, I was happy to be alone. Now, I miss people. Nice ones.
A Pretty Place Called Round Rock Texas
It was a good thing. I trusted the person who invited me because we had a great conversation. And I liked his sense of humor. By deduction I thought, anyone that he hung around would be pretty much the same. Smart. Conversational. Perhaps a little sarcastic. Educated and real.
As I pulled into Round Rock I actually had some tears welling up. And I wasn’t sure why? What the…? Then I realized that the main street of Round Rock reminded me of Toronto. All the trees lit up and were gorgeous. A clean Mainstreet with beautiful cafes, and bars, and restaurants. Kind of like Yorkville, I guess.
I got goosebumps. And then I thought briefly about where I am living now. I rented the townhouse because the price was right. Truthfully, the fact that I was able to rent a two-bedroom two-bathroom two-level townhouse for $1250 per month including $80 for pet rent? That is unbelievable in Austin. Rents are going up quickly. And I was used to having a cheap mortgage. Spoiled by that. It’s an adjustment.
Along the sidewalk were happy people. Strollers, couples, singles pouring into bars. And I thought, how much I missed this kind of environment. Today coming back from the DMV there was a homeless woman peeing on the sidewalk beside the driveway to my complex. There was her bare bum. And I thought… yeah. Round Rock was nice.
Meeting New People
It’s not that I lack confidence in a social setting. I LOVE people. I used to grab my laptop and sit at Harborfront in Toronto and write poetry with Diego. Beans, my little black chihuahua. Back when it was only two of us, and we were broke as heck, living in an apartment we couldn’t afford. In a big city that didn’t scare me or intimidate me. Because I had grown up making memories and working in almost every corner of it.
But I felt my chest tighten. I was walking into a cool-looking pub where I knew no one. I dressed down. Jeans, knee-high boots, and an unfestive skull t-shirt that makes me feel comfortable. I didn’t want to stand out. No one wants to be the fat girl walking into a crowd with bling and being the object of critique. If not verbally, by glances.
Refreshingly, his friends were fabulous. They were so intelligent. And funny. I loved the vibe they threw off. Welcoming. Nice. Accepting. Friendly. I’m ashamed to say I was like this dried-up sponge. I started soaking it in. The cool pub. The other down-to-earth and friendly people there. The banter of this group of friends. I tried to act cool but was secretly elated. PEOPLE! Real, not scary, not psychotic good-natured people. And smart. And social.
Not So Scary Afterall: A Reminder to Be Social
I felt good. Had a couple of drinks and laughs. Enjoyed the Star Wars trivia immensely even though I’m the type of person that can never remember names. Ask me about a scene though from any movie I love, and I can describe it. Maybe that is the writer in me.
It was so nice to be invited. I thought the glow was the wine, but in retrospect, it was the company. I really liked being around fun, and good people. See, I don’t take myself out on dates. My life has become pretty unbalanced for the most part. With work. And work. And … well work. Walking the dogs. Cleaning the house. More work. Cooking meals.
I would give myself an A+ on cooking for myself since I moved here. It is something I enjoy. Proving to myself that I deserve that meal. Because to be honest for the first three months? Doordash was my best friend. I was I think in a little shock and apathetic. Always at my desk because that’s where I felt safe. Cocooned.
I prefer cooking for someone else. The former was critical of my cooking, which evolved to him doing most of the cooking. But then again, I was the main breadwinner and worked 100 hours per week. I thought it was an even swap. Besides, he went to Chef’s school. I forgot how much I cooked. It was my Aunt that reminded me of the joy of it. In those few conversations this year before she could not talk because of Cancer. And then, the painful silence when she could no longer text. And we waited with broken hearts to lose her.
She’d be proud of me for trying to get out there. For trying to be happy and get myself right in this situation. Purge the toxicity of the past three years. And take care of myself. I can’t even write about her (yet) without the tears welling up. We’re broken without her. But somehow, I am still trying to make her proud. And talk to her when I am cooking something Italian she taught me. As close as I can be to her now. And I miss her with every molecule of my being.
There Are Still Good People Out There
I’ve met a few. My friend Michael is one of them. We went from friends to dating, and then tried to transition back to friends but it didn’t seem to work well. And I became frustrated at the inability to roll back the status to friendzone. I understand now (from discussions) that’s really hard for men. And I have no right to ask a man to remain a friend when he has been previously romantic with me. Some can. Most men, simply can’t.
But I miss having that platonic friendship. I don’t think I will ever try to segue friend to romance. But isn’t that what you are supposed to do? Be friends first? Or am I still narrating some text from a bygone era? When everyone is on Tinder and wants to ‘smash’ on the second date.
Hey, I have a libido too. I’m not trying to be rude here. The fact that I have made a ‘no swearing’ rule for this blog is impressive on its own. Especially if you have read my previous blog “The Microcosm of Ms. Skylar Smythe”. I still can’t believe 20,000+ people read it every month in its heyday. I was surprised anything that came out of my mouth and onto the keyboard was interesting to anyone. About my life anyhow. I know professionally, my words sell. And inspire. And educate. But I am not as interesting I think, as the work things I write about.
For every nice person I have met this year, I have met a nasty one. Controlling men. To a scary degree. And I have to congratulate myself for recognizing them now. And cutting the cord. Date one? Meh. Date two? Double meh! No chemistry, but plenty of red flags. I see red flags less than I should, but have good people around me to point them out. I’m grateful.
Not a Victim But Realize Where The Bites Were Taken Out of My Ego
Boohoo Skylar got divorced. Woman-up! Except Skylar left Canada for a happy ever never. And I lost so much this year. My Aunt. My marriage. Seeing my step-sons who I helped raise since they were five? I miss them. I’m glad we are still in touch but hey, they are 15-year-old boys. And they have bigger and better things to entertain them than their 48-year old honorary (for life, according to their Mom) step-mom.
I did that right. Those relationships. And they matter greatly to me.
There are bites missing out of me. I dream about certain things from the death throes of the marriage over the past three years. And my brain screams for me to just let that schtuff go. It’s over. It didn’t work out. And I tried like a MF to make it work. Anyone who knows me knows that I did. And perhaps, I fought too long to save and revitalize something that was broken beyond repair. There is no guilt or shame in putting down a dead horse. I kept flogging it long after there was no pulse in the marriage. I’m stubborn. I wanted it to work. I feel I can fix things if they are important to me. And that marriage was. I was wrong.
But when a man talks to me, I feel like he sees the broken bits. Or hears them. I feel like I look like a shattered mirror. WARNING! ANGSTY POET EMO TYPE POST-DIVORCE NO FUN! That’s not who I am. But I feel like I may be radiating that. I don’t deserve to be radiating that vibe. That’s not who I am. Recalling the explosive energetic optimistic chattery person I was when I moved to Texas a lifetime ago, in 2014.
All Work and No Play Makes Jack.. Erm.. Skylar a Dull Girl
And the biggest part of that is having no friends in Austin. No one to do anything with. And being too apprehensive as a new singleton to get out there and meet new people. Taking the example of the new acquaintance that invited me out. Someone who invests in his social life and seems to have a rewarding one.
Get up Skylar… your social life isn’t going to come knocking on your door. You have to go create it like everything else in your world. Figure it out. Lay the foundations. TRY.
I’m balancing the job. The house is cleaner than it should be. The dogs are healthy and happy. Sometimes I am happy. Near the lake. At the dog park. When an old sci-fi or scary movie I love comes on. When people who love me reach out to chat. I stop feeling invisible and feel my social pulse again.
I’m lonely. But I refuse to use anyone to satiate that. If someone wishes to engage, they need to get what they give to me. Equally. I don’t need a Romeo. I don’t believe in knights in shining armor anymore. Crushing it in my career isn’t enough for me. I miss Netflix and chill. Couch snuggles with dogs everywhere fighting to nose into the bowl of popcorn. Kisses. Banter. Quiet flirty smiles.
How could any woman as smart as I am, be so lonely? And adept and apprehensive about making new friends? I’m not shy. Far from it. And I am tired of being ‘the walking wounded’ with every ounce of my being. So among the list of things I am working on, written on a whiteboard in my spare room office, is something new. GET A (social) LIFE! This agoraphobic state is making me sad. And I am giving away too much banana bread to my neighbors.
