Daily Archives: June 11, 2008

Do us divorcees rate?

I make no secret that I have been back in the dating cattle market for some time now. I have to say, that dating once one has been divorced is a whole different kettle of fish. Add children into the bargain and it gets even trickier.

 

In chats with other women in similar situations I have heard that we have all been told not to be so picky because there are not that many men who are willing to take on an instant family, so apparently we are to settle for whatever comes along. Even if he is 75 and only has some of his own teeth…….

 

I have dated quite a few “finds” and learned how us divorcees are perceived = DESPERATE! It is so not true. Yes I want to be married, to have someone to share my life with, but it has to be the right man. I am not dating in order to find someone to make me happy. No. I am dating in order to find someone to make me rich…….sorry, where was I???? Seriously tho, if I cannot find happiness within myself I have no business looking for a life partner. His job will be to help expand that happiness to include him and our life together (and to keep me in shoes).

 

I also hate being told to be careful I do not make another mistake. Um hello? Who are you, Ms SprintzeRintzer, to tell me that my marriage was a mistake? Did it not produce the four most amazing children in the world? How could that be a mistake? It didn’t work out long term, but it was meant to be otherwise would I have these delicious children? And, while I am at it, like I would go into marriage with the intention of making a mistake? “I, Pinkie, do mistakenly take you, Mr Wrong………”

 

But there are those people who think that it is better to be married and miserable, than single and happy, after all – single people are a threat to their married friends. You didn’t know that? Yeah – if you are single and moderately attractive, the married friends don’t want you around their husbands. You are a threat. You may remind the men that there are other women out there who are available, who haven’t gained 40lbs of baby weight (or in my case, have lost all the baby weight a few times and looks pretty darn hot for a mom of 4). Lady, if you don’t trust your husband, don’t blame me and my good looking single self, look within your own marriage. I don’t want your husband, even if you offered him up on a silver platter. I want me my own man thank you very much.

 

One other thing I have learned is never to brag about how wonderful it is being accountable only to myself. Apparently this kind of independence will ruin a shidduch, for no man wants a woman who can think for herself and balance her own checkbook. Us womenfolk are supposed to need a man to help us figure out life because our poor little heads just cannot cope with the big wide world. Puhleeze. I think a man likes to see some independence in his woman. An ability to think for herself should be a positive trait, no? No. My opinions must change to reflect those of the man I date, remember I am divorced, so I am already low on the totem pole of eligibility. I mustn’t totally ruin it by having my own opinions. Tsk tsk. (and being a blogger certainly isn’t ideal shidduch material, sigh, what will we do with me!!)

 

I had an interesting conversation a while back with someone else in my ‘hood who is divorced. We both enjoy being independent, but we also want a man around. We decided, at that time, that it was good to have a man around for when he was needed or wanted, but was great to not have to kowtow to them, or ask their opinion about important decisions. Basically sometimes, once independence has established itself,  a boyfriend seems so much better to have around than a husband. I can see both sides of the coin. I enjoy my freedom so much, but would so love to have a warm manly pair of arms on tap for when I need comfort and love and don’t want to be lonely (and that brings up negiah or lack thereof, to be discussed in the future). to have someone to laugh with or cry with, or just do plain old boring laundry with…..

 

Having done the marriage thing once, for a decent amount of time, I think I have a better idea of what I want to do differently this time around. I am older, wiser and have already done the big fancy wedding and big fluffy dress thing. (it was a real 80s style confection) I know now what marriage is about, and when / if I enter into matrimony again I have so much more to bring to the table. AND I can balance a checkbook. AND I can deal with people. AND I can budget. I cook too. Unclog toilets. Have been known to tinker with a car engine (in a sheitel no less).  I can honestly say that anyone who marries me will be the luckiest man on earth – I am the most well adjusted crazy divorcee that you are likely to find.

The Silent Pain

To the outside world she looks normal. More than normal. She’s beautiful, shapely, has long flowing hair that she takes great care of. Her smile lights up the room. You watch her walk in her 4 inch heels, and you just cannot keep your eyes off her. Her hips sashay in just the right way, and her posterior attracts the attention of all the males in the room. She is just perfection itself. The green eyed monster grabs hold of you and in that instant you hate how perfect she is, how she has everything that you want.


Look closer. Look in her eyes and tell me what you see? Do you see her self knowledge of how wonderful and gorgeous she is? No? Look again. What is it that you see in those hazel eyes?


They look sad, you say, surprised. You are confused. What does this amazing womanly woman have to be sad about? Every male eye, every female eye in the room is on her. She has us all spellbound with her magnetism, yet, there is something in her eyes that is heartbreaking.

Your soul wants to reach out to hers, to comfort it, to understand what it is that haunts her so much that it leaks out of her eyes. You go up to her and say hello, and look deep into those lusciously fringed eyes, and she knows. Immediately she senses that you see deep into her soul, and she forcefully closes her eyes, but not before you see the depth of her pain.


You both sit down, and you reach out to hold her hand in yours. Tell me, you say silently, tell me your pain. I will share it and help you carry it. Slowly she opens her eyes, and you almost want to look away as the intensity is too much to bear.


You see the pain of deep loss, you see the pain of abandonment and loneliness, you feel her failures and triumphs – and the fact she mostly had no one to share them with, you feel her love for her children, so sure so strong, yet you feel her fear of not being around for them, of not raising them well, of letting them down. You experience the profound loss of the man she loved. You feel your own heart filling up with the knowledge that this woman had such a wonderful gift and capacity to love so strong and so deeply, and you feel it break with the feelings of heartbreak and emptiness when that love was ripped out of her heart.


Now you are the one that closes the eyes, against the glimpse of a soul that is crying out for comfort. Such a lesson you learned in a short space of time. This perfect woman does not have it all. She suffers like everyone else, she has hopes and dreams, has loved and lost. She is no better than you or me, her mask is just better looking. Tonight she gave you a gift, the gift of knowledge, the gift of looking deeper within and not judging a book by its cover. Never again will you jump to conclusions about who is happy and who is not.

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