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How did a conversation related to childcare turn into a recommendation from the dear ex to bring one of my BFF’s to a fight night, which we had intended to use as a date night for ourselves?? Not catchy enough? He had just told me he is “bringing” a person (out of respect for her I will not share about her) and is staying the night at the location (for those who may struggle and you know who you are, they would be in the SAME room).

Ahhh…now I have your attention. So we had that conversation in the morning and of course I couldn’t quite put my finger on what was irking me…except the obvious. So throughout the day of “training,” which was really a medieval torture of digging deep into my dark history of abuse and trauma, and triggered my feelings and beliefs of being damaged, and the feelings of brokenness and being unlovable. Which by the way lasted all three days of training…so I was raw as fuck.

I spoke to a friend and of course, I received the validation I sought, except, it wasn’t fitting the exact “irkness” that I was feeling. I needed it to fit because if it didn’t, there was something wrong with me, right?? So I thought about it, and thought about it, then eureka!! I nailed it. He was lying. But was he?

That’s a simplistic version, but what was really happening, was he was telling me he was renting a room, but lying to himself that he had no intentions of doing anything besides sleep (“we are getting two beds…”) because they were having drinks. Me too. Actually right at this moment. Ugh. How ridiculous. I was of course, befuddled with the statement of getting the room, but to lie to not only me, but himself about his intentions.

When I confronted this matter, head on, because that’s what I love to do…right?? He acknowledged that he “may be lying to himself” but the fight was four weeks away, so “who knows.” You know who knows, I do. That’s who knows. It required an extensive (and sober) extraction process, and even then I wasn’t satisfied that he knew how dumb it was to continue to live as a charade inside his mind. So. I was pissed.

So who can I trust wholly when I am pissed at everything or anyone in my life right now…the one person who doesn’t feel it necessary to lie. In fact, I think that he’d rather not speak than lie. Which is cool as hell. (Maybe I’ll try to keep quiet more, lol) I messaged Hook, who thoughtfully said, he couldn’t speak for other men, when asked if “all men lie.” He also encouraged me to attend the event due to buying my tickets.

There may have been some other recommendations in the way of making things as fun as possible for me, less so for the ex. He also-as the voice of reason, said bringing me (me) on a double date was “balsy” and “even he wasn’t that stupid.” He also said “love makes us” basically “blind and dumb.” Unfortunately, this is one of the reasons Hook avoids the emotion. Which I completely get. COMPLETELY. Especially now.

But…or maybe we should use “and” I’m not sure yet. There may be a time when there is one person that you know you can say anything to. ANYTHING. Maybe you’ve had or currently have this person in your life. How incredible does and/or did it feel? To know there is/was a person who accepted you for all your flaws and had no secrets (BTW I have secrets, lots) from, AND what if…

What if there was another person who was out there that you could connect with on a deeper and more meaningful level beyond what you let in or out on the surface? Does it necessarily mean love, or is it respect? I think it could be one or both. Respect in this context is not based on a fear (losing something or reward based), it’s based on a desire. A desire to connect through commonality even though you are suffering and fragile.

The Dear ex and I had a good talk about and laid out our expectations of what respect needs to occur related to honesty moving forward. There’ll be times when it works and when it doesn’t. Humans are dumb. Hook pointed that out too…

However, we are also very social creatures and if we don’t lean on and support one another, even when we are terrified of being “vulnerable” (which I recently learned this word can be translated to an interesting Freudian slip with voice text). I’ve talked about being vulnerable. It’s scary as fuck, but with the right person, it can be liberating, supportive, and maybe feel amazing(this could be a slight exaggeration)!!

Even through my damaged and broken views of myself carry me in waves, I choose to be vulnerable, I choose courage. When I’m scared, when I harbor guilt and shame, I choose courage. I’m going to take that risk and put myself out there.

Imagine what it would be like to believe you are worth fighting for…

Can you imagine feeling vulnerable and it fees good…

Oh this Fucking day. This is one of the days I harbor so much hate and rage, at least right in this moment. Monday. The day of the week that is just a bitch. But this is not a normal Monday. This is the Monday before the school year starts. This should be an exciting week for our family but it’s not, at least not for me.

However, I’m telling myself it “should” be which only increases my “WTF” is wrong with me value. I’m asking myself “why it should be” and my response: healthy kids, it’s expected, other people are worse off, people like me (some people don’t, but that’s another discussion), good job, and so on and so on.

I imagine I’m not alone in the scope of having such thoughts and emotions which swings like a pendulum back-and-forth minute to minute sometimes maybe hour to hour, most of the time for me it’s getting to where it’s every few days versus every other day…but today.

Today I have someone messaging me telling me this-“Lol. I’m serious, I’m willing to bet you’re good at anything you do. Work, Play, Drinking whiskey, giving pleasure, you’re the type of person that always gives their all.” I have someone else (from long ago) asking me to dinner and such. It’s nice, but feels crazy maladaptive…

Ugh. Manifesting success is so much harder and boring. Did I mention it was really boring. I know what I’m supposed to do, and I’ll probably do some of it…Because I know what gets me to the goal. But today…I struggle seeing the goal so I turned to music. Inspiration hit me right in the face. The song- “The Devils Own,” the lyrics sucked the air out of my lungs so hard I didn’t realize I wasn’t breathing until I was dizzy.

I’d heard this song before. Many times, in fact. However, when I had just been informed that I “needed to relax” by “drinking” a guy…whatever that means (kidding I knew what it meant). I was not manifesting success, I was thrown back into last weeks training and again, I was triggered and felt broken and only good for one thing.

The lyrics…

“Where did I go wrong? Who was I supposed to be?
No matter what I’ve done, you’ve always criticized me
Where did I go wrong? Who was I supposed to be?
When it’s said and done, will you remember
It’s because of you I’m broken
It’s because of you I’m dead inside
I never asked to be here
It’s because of you I’m godforsaken
I never wanted this
It’s because of you I’m dead inside”

There are a few more words that note a fairytale but that’s not the part I can relate to.

Now I know I “shouldn’t” (it would be nice) read into what some idiot uses as a pickup line (which seriously may have worked in a different situation). Maybe he’s nice, maybe I’ll go find out, who knows. But I did read into it. Then when I shared what was said…meh. Just me. Just my perspective. Just my suffering, feeling a little dead inside.

But alas, my good senses kicked in. I am not alone and the “meh” wasn’t a “meh” until I gave it power to be a “meh”. How did I do this you ask? Well, I looked for evidence that no one cared which led (And usually always does) to feeling worse, which then reinforced my suffering and beliefs that I’m broken. But I’m not. At least I’m telling myself I don’t feel it right in this moment…give me a minute. But this is usually a really helpful tool for me.

The moral of this for me, is I have the power to manifest success (big or small) or I can win at being super maladaptive. The latter is more fun, for sure, at least in the moment, but I’m looking forward to the good stuff that comes with success. (At least right now, give me a minute, jk).

Recently I was having a moment of weakness and thought, “hmmm, maybe I should ask my ex why I wasn’t enough.” Well. Turns out it wasn’t me at all, it was “the fruit on the tree being too much” for him to “not take a bite of.” Sit back and hold on tight, shit is about to get really real.

As a creature of great enthusiasm, This me asking the “why,” when I first started writing this particular blog entry I had a direction selected and thought it was exactly right. Then, I sat in a training that was insightful and significant in the direction that I ultimately took. (Which might actually be kinder)

Preparing myself for the response to “why” was an easy task…which entailed having a reaction that placed a significant chunk of blame squarely on someone else’s shoulders. I had my arguments at the ready, poised to be a direct hit to his response. However, the response I received deflated my arousal for a battle. I felt deflated and confused at first. Then I felt like he was taking pity on me. Ugh. Stupid brain and story I tell myself. I was putting blame on myself EVEN when he took responsibility.

So…the fruit is too tempting. Yes it is. I know this. However, when I heard this shit my mind exploded. I was like, WTF, this belief of his ultimately, excuses any of his past, current, and possible future indiscretions. (Which will not be my problem darlings…) So, when I considered this for a few minutes, I giggled. Then I laughed out loud, thinking “I can’t even deal.” Then of course, I also shared this declaration of insight with my resident male expert, “Hook.” Who had the perfect response, per usual.

My physical reaction from the feedback from Hook was mildly helpful and slowed my brain down enough to take perspective to recognize, at least he didn’t blame me. But come on, who says fruit from the tree?? It took courage to put myself out there and ask the “why.” Didn’t I “deserve” something more profound? Well not really, especially since my motives for asking the why want related to him at all.

The why I was really looking for is from someone else. We will call him, the Sheriff of Nottingham, “dickhead” for short. Most people know the Sheriff of Nottingham was a bitch that served the king who taxed Sherwood. Well, in this story, he is the dickhead, who also liked to tell women what is expected and not expected from them whilst in the bedroom. (Cause his momma taught him that)

We talked, connected (as good as you can electronically), had many commonalities-we like guns, whiskey, great music, and watching others to make sure they’re not up to any shenanigans. Then the sex talk. You know the one where there is give and take and limits being set…did you know some people do not like having these conversations? Better yet, they don’t want a woman to tell them what they like (GASP)!!!

The Sheriff was very uncomfortable with this direction. I know this because he said so…but not in a direct conversation related to chivalry and being a sensitive man. NOPE. He talked about it in the way of calling names and being a dick. Luckily, I know what to say to people who are unkind and not supportive. However, this guy, said his peace and battened down the communication hatches. Block texts, messaging, and other avenues. Which is really fine, I just wanted to be the one who did it first, but only after I gave him a taste of the classic “Krissy tongue beat down.” Which BTW, is profoundly shaming and makes people cry.

Then just like that…NEXT! Which is fine, but that damn “why.” I’ll never know that why and I’ll be ok with that. Although I don’t need that negativity in my life, the bravery of asking the “why” is helping me figure out my pattern. Which, when I wanted to just stay silent (for about fifteen seconds) I was brave and stood for what I wanted.

Then just like that…I got my groove and asked myself “who do I want to be” and responded with, “I will stray into the unknown with courage, even though I’m afraid.”

So, the first blog was nice introduction and a brief taste of some of what I’m going to write about. This current blog entry will be focusing more on the aftermath of losing a romantic relationship and how we search for rebounds and replacements.

BEWARE The following may get uncomfortable (this is where my brother should definitely shut down the blog). Just a reminder-the names are changed…to protect the seriously damaged and fucked up.

So-the day I found out my life was really a shit show- my first two points of contacts were to my amazing housekeeper (cause who can afford that shit now) and a client to cancel a session (probably some ethics to consider related to helping people when you are in a dissociative state). Both were amazing and supportive. In addition, the typical attempts to get childcare sorted to deal with the aftermath were made. Score.

Now I can deal with this shit with old fashioned revenge and Karma. But what I really did was a lot different. I told him what the next steps were, I went to my friends house and drank a glass of one of the finest bourbons they had, and took my kid to ninja class. Cause I’m a grown up and not my kids fault life sucks!

However, somewhere in the mix I messaged a friend, whom we will call “Hook.” “Hook” is a sexy and charming with a “nice guy” but “don’t get too close” persona, who has been treated terribly by “Wendy.” More to this story in a later blog…I told him what happened and in his own supportive way, he gave me recommendations for legal considerations. Why, you ask? Because, Hook was treated so badly (I mean broken hearted crazy shit), he understands the need to address the situation immediately and in an orderly fashion, versus drawing out the shit show. Except, what Hook is hiding behind his “orderly, don’t get attached to another human heart facade” is his pain and suffering. Which during this time of my story, is very helpful to me…

How do I know he’s suffering? I know this, because it’s my job to recognize these signs in others (why would I ever acknowledge this within myself, that’s dumb and may lead me to feeling vulnerable). Okay. I did recognize this in myself too. However, I chose not to acknowledge it or address it because it’s better to ignore the feelings and stuff them waaaay down. No one knows, right? I can make this look easy and just move on.

I used this denial to my advantage. I felt better knowing that if Hook can do it, I definitely could (he is a boy, right). Anyway-ugh… through some guidance of Hooks, I was able to compartmentalize all those silly feelings and move towards a different feeling. The Angst (which turned out to be excitement) of being single. Which turns out, many people (male people) were also ready for…they came out of the woodwork. Which was very vulturish…that is a clinical term BTW.

Being single at any age sucks (at least that’s what I’ve heard), but being single at the age of, ahem, 41! Ugh. Fuck. Then suddenly, it happened. This wave of attention that was unsolicited (mostly) and very straight forward. One guy, we will call him “Peter” because he was quite immature, and really needed to deal with some issues related to his relationship with his mother…amongst other deviant needs. He just knew “I was the one for him.” He professed his affection (not love) and proposed-after knowing me for TWO WEEKS!!

Next up-a really nice guy that needed a subtle reminder of how my relationship nose-dived. Easy. This one is a keeper…for someone else. This guy doesn’t get a fake name, for now.

Then. My friend, we will call her “Sara,” enlightened me with the woes of her relationship, in which she was being used as a human doormat. To be fair she seen most of this, but has lived in this world where women are not in charge of their own destinies. It’s like some lone trained her to be a robot and say “yes sir and no sir.” Which is fucking great if you’re married to a billionaire named Christian and carry zip ties around.

As Sara explained her history of love and what not (mostly the what not), I was cringing inside. I thought about how I had been independent my whole life and was the designator “fixer of men” (this is not a thing, just a self torture I did to punish myself for being too awesome). But, seriously, Sara is pretty, smart, and had a job. Isn’t that the criteria for catching Mr. Right?? Nope. It is definitely the criteria for catching “Mr. Who’s the next guy to screw me over.”

Sara was able to dump the leech that was sucking the life out of her, of course the blame game ensued from him. But I seen her texts, she rocked the limits she set for him. I was beyond proud and stoked for her. Then a thing happened. A thing that shook even me…she found another guy, had a great time, and he was a douche.

How is it that humans can be alive in 2019 and still use people for sex, and not connect on an interpersonal level (unless it’s a prearrangement for a good time only). How about this…you flirt, you find common interests, you talk more about really personal shit, and then you hook up. One half of the couple thinks it was amazing and there was a great connection. The other half got laid and has to be at work the next morning. Not having a care about the “what’s next.” HINT: the latter is not usually the female.

OKAY! If a hook up is a hook up, boom, that’s fabulous. But, unless it’s pre-determined to be a said hook up, there maybe some hurt feelings. No one wants to be used. I don’t. Unless it’s predetermined and super fun…

Both men and ladies can relate to this. Usually, because of poor communication, generally because they may be afraid to ask the questions that may result in not “connecting.” Such as, what kind of relationship is this going to be? What are our expectations? What keeps us from asking these questions? FEAR they are the same questions married couple don’t ask one another before like becomes the “upside down.” I know this, because it happened to ME. It may have even happened to you!

We tell ourselves a story in our minds. The story may go a little something like this (this is mine)…we are pretty people, with good jobs, two beautiful kids, world on a string, a housekeeper (cause that is super important to me…a house with a pool, close to schools and hospitals (again, super important to me because, well I am a bit accident prone). Everything is great. We love each other, we support each other, we go to church…

The real story is we talked about schedules, reminders, tasks related to kids, we did not laugh, joke, hold hands, spend time with each other, make an effort to make any of the relationship stuff a priority. We became roommates. Which leads me to look at my next steps carefully. For example, I want and demand that communication of wants and needs be a priority. If they cannot do that and are not willing to make the effort…NEXT. If your backbone is weaker than your self-esteem, NEXT. If you cannot see that I am not a fixer, but a supporter and maybe sometimes a nurturer, NEXT.

You maybe wondering how I can put all this onto another human…guess what, this is not my expectation for anyone else. This is an expectation or better yet, goals I have set for myself. These tasks are for my relationship with myself…

I am doing this by telling myself to speak up when I feel like my boundaries and limits are being pushed. I tell friends that they have VALUE and are amazing, because they are and I want them to know it. I make decisions that I feel profoundly confident in when the time is right. I also listen to the voice in my head and heart…even though it may really hurt. Ultimately, I choose courage to put myself out there in the arena.

I hope you enjoy this, in my next one I will be talking about a date…

It’s important for anyone reading this to know that this blog is not “just for women.” This is a human blog. Written by a human that earned clarity through the bottom of my glass of whiskey. I’ll be writing and learning through personal life experience, and through any engagements from readers and internet trolls.

Life sucks, grab a straw…preferably a paper one.

— K Bender

As I begin to write this post I am sitting in a hotel room contemplating how my life has taken a drastic detour from the path I had previously believed it was going to take, just less than a month ago.

Let me start the story by saying I am changing all names to protect the fucked up. Oops, I forgot to warn you, there is swearing, and there will continue to be large amounts of swear words being used through this diary of my life. Feel free to close the page if you are easily offended by swear words, pain & suffering of the human condition, sexual exploits, and general discussion of how women and men “who interact on any level,” “hook up,” “engage in a relationship,” and other various forms of how we attempt to communicate with any other human in the overall approaches in our lives.

So my present life situation begins like any other WTF moment…I recently took a job in which there was a significant pay raise, I work in a nice office (when I wasn’t in the field), and, and here is the most important part, it is a job that I absolutely love. Then, just like a stupid romantic comedy(I’m guessing at this one I prefer Die Hard) ..two and a half months later I discovered my marriage was over. I can say that it is all his fault, and many of my friends both in person and online will agree, that he is to blame. On any given day, a part of me is ok with blaming him, why not, it’s easier to not take responsibility and wallow in the pity others offer, however, another part (the human heart part) of me is not okay with that at all.

Now the why not…

Take a deep breath…I’m not saying I condone anything he may have or have not done, what I am saying is this: It is so easy to say, “I am a victim,” “I can’t believe this happened to me,” and one of my all time favorites, “how could he/she do this.” How many of us have said or thought that we were the innocent victims, being perpetrated on by the man with the long mustache twirling the corners up(you know who you are), or the women who “uses/sleeps with every man she ever dates”(how is this any of your fucking business). I hope right now, my hand is not the only one that is raised…

The low down on what we tell ourselves to make it ok to “blame” the other person is the movie reel we use to justify how we are victims in multiple areas of our lives. Not you? Bullshit. This is everyone. To an extent. It can be used in a healthy protective way, or it can be used to justify being a shitty parent because drugs or men/women are more important than your kids’ needs, or a shitty anything else to anyone else. This is how my tape goes…”OMG, how can they be so stupid, what the fuck, how many times do I have to say what I need or needs to be done!” This can be applied in all settings and towards myself…you know why. When the real problem, at least when this is directed towards others, is that I have placed an expectation on them that I know has the possibility of not being met.

I was recently challenged on the sincerity of “not setting/having expectations” claiming I was using them as a defense mechanism to avoid being hurt…yeah I know. However, I explained my use of this is methodical to not physically harm others and to not sit in emotional despair and disappointment of the humans that I interact with in my life. (Cause I need those humans.)

What I TRY to do instead of that blaming shit…

Take perspective of where I have possibly set a bar. How this works for me- if someone says they are going to do ANYTHING for me, I prepare myself for the possibilities. I play the outcomes out in various ways that have many different endings that may or may not lead to me being pissed off, feeling like a victim, or worse-being taken advantage of, a.k.a feeling vulnerable(ugh).

A recent example of how this worked and went well-I made a plan to meet up with a girlfriend at a local bar. In my experience and others that have shared their own to me, this person would have and could have flaked. (She didn’t because she is a warrior) However, not only did she show up, but, she was so much fun to be around. We laughed and made fun of people…have you been to a bar lately? We bonded. Score one for the feels. But I had my plans and scenarios ready…

An example of how this did not work well-and now the story has come full circle-the DIVORCE. I don’t blame him. I don’t blame me. It happens. Could we have done stuff differently to rescue the marriage? Maybe, did we? No. Not because it was intentionally (that we can use blame for), but because sometimes things happen in small little steps that we cannot see are even happening. However, if you were GOD or some weird stalker you could see. We could not. So we couldn’t fix it. I tell myself that we are bad at our marriage (I’m not good at it at all I think) but we are amazing parents. So although we have failed at our marriage, we can rock at being parents and working together for them. I cannot wait to see how that works…kidding.

As I continue to write about various sensitive matters I will include tidbits of our relationship and how we evolved to this point…however, blogs are not meant to be very long as people get distracted easily by shiny objects.

Digest this, wrap your head around the swearing and self-efficacy and get back here…really soon cause I have been told I have a lot to say!