Sex and the Single Soccer Mom

So…my Facebook page for this blog just hit 500 Likes. Granted, I think a lot of the people who “like” my page are expecting a lot more Sex and a lot less Single Soccer Mom. Me too, dear pornography seekers, me too…

Seriously, it’s kind of crazy to me to think that I started this blog a couple of years ago to try to make sense of my love life and random musings, while fitting it all in around being a single mom, and now I have people in countries all over the world who come and read my blog. It has inspired me as a writer and for that, I am very grateful.

So…thank you.

http://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/Sex-and-the-Single-Soccer-Mom/109664552428627

I ended my 4 month long relationship last night. I’d known I needed to do it for about a month, but I didn’t want to face it. Fortunately, there’s no huge drama or heartbreak, hopefully on either side. He’s a great guy who deserves to find a woman who not only thinks he’s a great guy, but also loves him. Unfortunately, that’s not me. I like him tremendously and we have a good time when we’re together;  I will miss him and his company. He has so many of the qualities that I’m looking for in a partner and I know he cared for me. Alas, my heart was silent when we were together. It was time.

True to the man I’ve gotten to know the last 4 months, he handled the breakup with dignity and grace. We talked, held each other and kissed goodbye. When he left I sat and wept. It was the absolute right decision and I don’t feel any second-guessing, I’m just sad it didn’t work out. It hurts that I hurt him.

I think I’m going off the dating grid for awhile. Isn’t the definition of insanity doing the same thing and expecting different results? For five years now I have played the dating game, sporadically leaving the “market” when I find a relationship, then re-entering when  that relationship doesn’t work out. It’s demoralizing and exhausting. I’m not averse to dating if I happen to meet someone, but I’m done seeking for awhile. At least, that is the plan. I want companionship and affection and frankly, sex. A few months into not pursuing a relationship, I’m pretty sure I’ll be lonely. How do I reconcile my desire for love and affection and male companionship (because let’s be honest, friends and family just don’t fill the same needs) with my need to just “let go” for awhile? Sigh…it is a dilemma. Plus, there is the irrational fear that if I step back for 6 months, perhaps I’ll miss the boat and be alone forever. Crazy, right? So, not taking myself off the market, but also not putting myself on a table in the front of the store with a sign in all caps that reads “Pick me! Pick me!”. With the letters in hot pink. With free chocolate chip cookies given out to the first ten men to sign up.

Seriously, it might not be that ridiculous, but over the years, sometimes it has felt like it. I’m taking myself out of the process of “window shopping” for a partner (as the great guy I just ended things with referred to it). Time to work on my book, keep up with the great exercise program I’ve started, finally learn Swiss German (like I promised my dear friend 3 months ago) and take time to honor myself. I have a wonderful life and someday someone will want to share it with me. If they pop up at the bookstore or grocery in the next few months, fantastic. If not, then it might be a bit longer before I meet them.

Who would have thought Taylor Swift would lead me to such profound soul-searching? Certainly not I, when I was purchasing the CD for my two young daughters. I was merely guessing that my little music-lovers would be enchanted by the wholesome-girl image and sweet lyrics about teenage love.

I certainly didn’t imagine that pressing play on Taylor’s most beloved hit would result in me, a 38 year old woman, sobbing like a school girl at a stoplight. To my daughter’s concerned cries of “What’s wrong, Mommy?” I only said that I was tired and emotional. Not a lie, yet certainly a half-truth.

I was a child who read fairy tales about princesses who after many challenges, found their one true love, then lived happily ever after in a state of bliss. Then I was a teenager, reading more adult versions of the same thing: Men and women who somehow, after all the fates conspire against them, find themselves in each others arms at last. In the end, it is insinuated that all will be right with the world, finally, now that love has prevailed. Since I’ve been an adult, the trend has continued. Albeit, sometimes with vampires, werewolves and the occasional S&M tendency thrown in for good measure. What can I say, tastes change!

All of that conditioning: Fairy tales, love stories, love songs, romantic movies…well, it all adds up to a mind-fuck of epic proportions when it comes to love. Especially now that I am a 38 year old single mother of two.

When I married my husband, I loved him. It wasn’t earth-shattering by any means. It was the sort of warm glow between two really good friends, who both happen to be virgins, who really would like to know what the big deal is about sex. There were moments throughout the years, after shared experiences and history and two children, when that love was intense. It was never, ever fairy tale love. It didn’t curl my toes. It didn’t give me butterflies. If the expectation of marriage hadn’t been so strong in my mind; if I hadn’t grown up in a culture that led me to believe marriage was my loftiest goal, if the circumference of my life hadn’t been so small…would we have married? I never really stopped to ask myself if I was marrying him for the right reasons, because I was too young and too sheltered to have the right questions. He was suitable and I really liked him. It resulted in well over a decade of my life and two amazing children, for which I am grateful. Yet a very girlish part of me felt cheated; where were the butterflies and romance and passion?

I have felt that feeling exactly once. It was a disastrous love affair that left me sick with longing, stripped of the person I knew myself to be. It was never anything other than doomed and when it was over, I was a shell only, with too many other complicating factors woven through to even begin to sort out where the love affair ended and everything else began. It sounds dramatic, but it is completely true to say I barely escaped that experience with my life intact. Is it fair to blame it on the love, when there were so many other circumstances at play? I don’t know, but it is still my only experience with love that consuming. It was heady, intoxicating and terrifying in the power that it wielded over me.

I’ve come close to that feeling once before, with a man I would continue to allow back into my life time and time again, despite the ways in which he betrayed my trust and heart. Much less the ways in which I betrayed my own innate knowledge of the fact I shouldn’t have stayed.

The others whom I’ve loved, it has taken more time. My most recent ex was the one with whom I felt I came the closest to achieving something real, without sacrificing the butterflies. Things built slowly for me, yet by the end I truly, truly loved him. Sadly, he didn’t seem to feel the same. Or I met him at a time in his life when things weren’t meant to be; it’s still hazy in my mind if it was “us” or the timing. Perhaps I’ll never know definitively.

Now, the romantic idealizations I’ve consumed my entire life are warring with my life experiences. I know there is no fairy tale, but understand all too well there has to be more than liking and complacency. Now I’m dating a man who is great in so many ways: Solid, dependable, generous, kind. Yet I just don’t feel the love for him which I know should be growing. I try to picture our life together and I simply can’t place myself there indefinitely. Doesn’t he deserve to have someone who feels like he is their most perfect fit? Don’t I? I know I have to end things and I feel sick over it. I don’t want to hurt him and I don’t want to be alone, but neither he nor I deserve to settle for complacency. It took me four months to know, but now that I do, I can’t put it off. It’s not fair to either of us.

So now I’m back to single again. I don’t want to waste so much of my life weeding through the online profiles and endless emails, but stepping back and doing nothing feels like settling for being alone. No one is going to knock on my door and ask me out. I’m NOT 19 and in college anymore. That’s the thing…my odds have narrowed and my window for opportunity is smaller. I have a full-time job, 2 kids, a house and responsibilities. I am not unfettered and I’m not as “out there” as I might have been at 19. Except…I wasn’t even “out there” at 19. I chose from my limited pool of approved boys…and other than my children, whom I will never regret, I obviously chose wrong. Now, at 38, with a life bound by obligations, how can I ever expect to meet someone if I withdraw from the dating pool? I’m too tired to go back out there right away and terrified not to.

If hearing Taylor Swift sing about a “Love Story” is enough to reduce me to tears, what does that say about my state of mind? Am I still yearning for some fairy tale, despite my strong assertions that I’m not? Am I merely sad and regretful that I’ll never experience that now, 12 years of marriage, 2 kids and 1 divorce later? Especially now, when I don’t really even believe it exists? Or maybe I’m just scared I missed my chance?

I still miss my ex. I miss our conversations and his insights. I miss his smile and hearing him laugh. I miss the look he gets in his eye when he somehow thinks he’s managing to be naughty. I miss our friendship. The question has been posed: Can we be friends? To which I still am uncertain of the answer. There are impediments to us being a couple, on his side and now, truthfully, on my own. Yet feelings still exist. Could we navigate the pitfalls of having a relationship, without having a “relationship”? As usual, I have no idea. Somewhere between advice, logic, rationalization and the voice of my inner self the answer lies. Which mean, of course, it might as well lie at the bottom of the ocean. It’s a lot to swim through for a clear view!

Meanwhile, a breakup is looming and I’m heartsick about it. If only Taylor Swift could write the ending for all our love stories. Life would be simpler and sweeter. I wouldn’t feel the need to weep at stoplights from regret and longing and fear of what I’ll never have–if it even exists. It would all boil down to  a simple Taylor concept:

“It’s a love story, baby just say yes.”

According to the Chinese Zodiac, I’m a Tiger. As with all astrology, I read things that sound like me:

“Tigers are sensitive, emotional. They are capable of great love, but they become too intense about it.” “Tigers tend to renounce confining traditional roles, opting for a more unfettered life.” “These creatures whose emotions are out-front have strong libidos and are lusty in their passions.”

Then I read things that don’t:

“Tigers are very confident, perhaps too confident sometimes. Although they love adventures, and are addicted to excitement it is better not to challenge a Tiger’s confidence. They like being obeyed and not the other way around.” “The Tiger, the living symbol of strength and power, generally inspires fear and
respect.”

My favorite is: “The Western term for a particularly fierce woman is “dragon lady,” but the Chinese call her a “tiger lady.” For this reason some Chinese avoid having children in the Tiger Year — for fear of having a daughter.” I’ve been called fierce (intense or passionate too) several times in my life.

Of course, I immediately had to look up my romantic compatibility with my previous (and current) partners. Three Dragons in my past (married to one and two fairly long relationships with the others), my most recent ex was a Pig (yes, I AM only referencing the Zodiac sign!) and the guy I’m currently dating is a Monkey (again, not insinuating anything other than his Zodiac sign). The Monkey and the Pig have a higher compatibility rating than the Dragons. According to the Chinese, I will be most compatible with a Dog or a Horse. Please, no jokes!

Of course, I’m also a Taurus, so then I had to look up the signs compatible with Taurus. Again, while it is fun to read about, my zodiac sign doesn’t fit me completely. My most compatible signs are Capricorn, Cancer and Pisces. My most recent ex was a Cancer and the guy I’m currently dating is a Capricorn.

It’s a nice fantasy to think there is someone “written in the stars” for me, but I don’t think any sort of astrology is going to help me find love. Still, it never hurts to hedge bets; if you happen to know a Horse or a Dog, send them my way!

Last night, after a long and challenging day, I spent the evening being a sloth. I came home from work, took the dog out, stripped off my professional clothing, ran an almost scaldingly hot bath, then climbed in with a glass of Merlot and a suspense novel.

I spent an hour and a half soaking in a bath perfumed with calming aromatherapy oils (enhanced by the very large glass of Merlot). At one point, I simply lay there and cried. When I was done, I put on a nightgown, curled up on the couch and watched tv. Then I went to bed and slept blissfully until morning.

Sometimes, being single is nice. Only worrying about my needs and not having to factor in another person’s feelings, not feeling required to do anything or be anything for anyone…sometimes I have to remind myself this is a perk of being alone. Especially as my current relationship feels very uncertain and I am possibly facing the prospect of singledom once again. There are evenings I feel so lonely I’m terrified at the thought of never finding a partner I can hope to spend my life with. I want to come home to arms around me and someone who gives a damn how my day was. That longing for connection beyond an evening, a month, a year has led me to date after date which I don’t enjoy. Feeling like I MUST continue the quest for a partner or I will miss out. To what end? Lots of wasted time and evenings I haven’t enjoyed. All the time I’ve spent perusing profiles, answering emails, going on fruitless dates…what if I’d spent it writing a book? Learning a foreign langugage? Volunteering in a cancer ward? I have wasted so much time on the pursuit of love. Yet I find myself still alone. I WANT love in my life. Yet I’m really tired of the search…

Once in awhile, an evening by myself, indulging only what I want, serves as a good reminder to keep it all in perspective. Being alone is sometimes a beautiful thing.

My plan for last night was to drink copiously until the psychic gateway was closed. I settled for working out hard and then a couple of glasses of wine. Still, it seemed to do the trick. Confused? Join my world…

I just went to see a psychic/clairvoyant. I’ve had the appointment for six months, because her schedule is so booked. To imagine that someone can fold back the veil and peer into a spiritual realm mostly invisible to others…well, it’s an idea that holds appeal. Especially if  I can receive guidance on matters near and dear to my heart. I’m not what someone would call a true believer, but try to have an open mind and heart. So I went hoping to find some answers or at least direction.

Some things revealed were expected, others were quite a surprise. Two of the people I most wanted guidance on, I was only left with more questions.

When I gave her only the first name of the man I’m currently involved with, she described his personality exactly. She named the virtues I know he possesses and the areas that might be concerning to me. She also said he loves me very much and will want to marry me. When I asked if this was something she saw in my future, she cryptically said: “You could be happy with him. It could be a good match for you.” She said I definitely will marry again, but  she didn’t say she saw me with the current guy.

When I gave her only the name of my ex-lover, with no backstory or comments, she listened to her “voices” for a long time. She laid out cards and studied them, then she looked up and studied me just as intently. “He thinks of you very often and you’re definitely on his mind,” she said, “but he feels he has no choice but to think of it in the past and try to view it from a hindsight perspective. He’s not a risk taker.”

Why even mention my ex-lover to her? Well, you see, I had one of THOSE dreams again. This is the third time I’ve dreamed about him in the past year; the other two dreams turned out to mean something.  I’ve never really considered myself to have any sort of precognition talent…except for this. So when I suddenly, out of the blue, dream of him and wake up feeling absolutely certain it means something, it left me feeling unsettled all day. It seemed a happy coincidence to be scheduled for a session with a psychic!

Her answer was no surprise to me really; I suspected he thought of me and I definitely knew he wasn’t much of a risk taker. Still, the pesky feeling of needing to check in after the dream persisted like a piece of food in my back teeth…a mosquito bite that won’t stop itching…the sound of the worst pop song you’ve ever heard stuck in your head. In other words, I felt compelled to do something about it and really wish I didn’t. Of course, when I described this scenario to my sister-in-law, she gave me the look and said: “So, you really just wanted to contact him and the dream was just an excuse, right?” To which I offer a hearty “Nay!” I think. I’m a little muddled on my motivations now, but will still stick to my original story, which was the dream.

So I email him. Nonchalantly. To which I receive a quick response of: “Freaking uncanny! What are you doing for lunch?” I immediately began rubbing calming aromatherapy oil on my wrists and temples and placing my head between my knees to quell the lightheadedness (Does that EVER actually work???) I found myself wishing for smelling salts. Instead,  I place an emergency call to my best friend to ask, in a whispered and hysterical shriek, “What does it mean? What does it mean?” I pace the length of hallway at my place of employment, then back again. Finally, I send a response.

While driving to meet him, I am chanting to myself: Let it be what it will be. Have no expectations. You’re in a relationship. You’re good enough, you’re smart enough and gosh darn it, people like you! I pray to arrive before him, so I will have time to compose myself. No such luck; I drive past him in the parking lot (even WORSE than arriving after him, because then there is the awkward “is he going to stand in the rain and wait for me” question and awkward side hug). We order and then, finally, we are sitting across from each other at the table.

As I looked into his eyes, there was such a weight of history between us. How can I look at this man and feel casual? Comfortable, comforted, challenged, aroused, amused, hurt, pissed off…but never casual. What attitude do you strive for when meeting an ex-lover for an impromptu lunch? Especially when during the first five minutes they announce that they’ve discovered your anonymous blog and have been reading your private thoughts about them for months?

What could I do? Note the irony that my last blog post specifically mentioned my fear that this man would discover my blog and be hurt by it? Feel naked, vulnerable and stripped of the anonymity that I had mistakenly believed was a defense? Aside from that, I did the only thing that seemed to make sense and leave me with some sense of control: I waited to hear him out.

Pros: He likes my blog. A lot. He thinks I’m a great writer and encouraged me to work on a publishable project. In some ways it was a weird relief for him to read my innermost thoughts about our relationship, angry rants included, and still be able to look me in the eye and not hate me. Knowing he had sought out my words, then was interested enough in them to keep reading, felt…good.

Cons: He knows my innermost thought about our relationship and how I’ve felt about him. I feel naked and vulnerable. Knowing he knows THAT much about me is just another bond in some ways, one that feels great and really sucks at the same time. One of the most painful aspects to our relationship last year was how much I let my guard down. The ending felt like a sucker-punch to the gut and I had nothing to protect me. I was curled protectively around the searing pain for months, praying for relief, terrified of ever feeling that again. To have someone know that much about you can be a beautiful thing, but it can also hurt like hell. Additionally, I am now having to summon my bravery to write my innermost thoughts and feelings without compromise. I absolutely cannot allow myself to think: What if he thinks this? What if he knows I still feel that? Does it give him power over me to know these things? To which I have to tell myself: It doesn’t matter. He has asked that I not feel the need to edit content, so I’m not going to. He will have to determine how he receives my words.

After a long conversation, I wasn’t unhappy with our lunch. It was great to see him. Yet it did leave me at sixes and sevens. It takes questions I have about my current relationship and amplifies them significantly. Am I over my ex-lover enough to give the current one an unbiased chance? Why am I not over my ex-lover? Is it really love that keeps me from moving on? Or is it some unhealthy fixation (as my younger sibling suggests with a great deal of verbal force) on the fact that he hurt me ? My confidence and self-esteem were seriously shaken; do I feel the need to prove my lovability? Is it wanting what I can’t have? Is it (again, my irritating sibling insists) feeling on a profound level that I affect this man, that he cares for me, loves me, is drawn to me….just enough that I can’t let go? Intellectually, I know I can’t be with him. He’s even more at sixes and sevens than I am! Emotionally…there is still a bond.

My current relationship holds so many of the elements that seemed to be frequently missing in my last: He always calls when he says he’ll call. He sends me texts to tell me he’s thinking of me. He sends me flowers at work. He’s NOT a romantic guy, but he takes the time to let me know I matter to him and he’s willing to make an effort. I never feel like an option in his life, but I feel like he works hard to make me feel valued and special. He is a reliable, dependable, great guy. We have fun together. I genuinely like him.

That’s the problem; I like him.  I don’t love him though, not even a little bit. Should you love someone after 3 and 1/2 months? Should you at least be starting to feel like it’s heading that way? Am I comparing him to my last relationship and the emotions I still have surrounding it and dooming the relationship? Why the hell can’t I just be overwhelmed with this great guy who wants me? Why can’t I just lie next to this man and feel moved the way I should? Yet, so far, I don’t. He seems like such a great catch (smart, good communicator, involved father, financially stable, generous, honest) and I like him enough that I have found myself trying to just give it more time. Afterall, feelings can grow for someone with whom there isn’t a huge spark. I’ve felt it happen. Yet I think the time is drawing close for me to make a decision.

So now I’m left wondering: Why do I seem to have some sort of weird, psychic connection with my ex-lover? What does that mean? Why does it feel like something about the relationship is not done…when it is clearly NOT on? Why do I feel drawn to him? Is it more about me being fucked up than about genuine emotion? Why can’t I force myself to feel more for the current guy? Is it because of the ex-guy? Could I be anymore of a an overthinking, emotive, mess right now? Of course, I am hormonal, so that clearly isn’t helping.

Perhaps my sole question to the psychic should have been, “Do the voices tell you why I am such a psycho?”