Building a Bridge

Bear:     after that texas post, I have officially downgraded u to a Category 4 Man-Hater.  good job

DD:     oh come on now!  let's not get ahead of ourselves.  momentary lapse in judgment - got a little soft from vacation mindset.  quite sure force will be regained over the wkend

Bear:     nope don't think so.  a few posts now in a row in which u have displayed visions of hope & light & happiness...& all that junk

DD:     hardly - i'm still swearing off men - i JUST chatted with a girlfriend who told me how she found out her creepy husband was doing all this awful stuff behind her back.  AND they have 2 kids.  no downgrade. 

Bear:     too late.  done.  build a bridge and get over it.  u have to stop blaming us for all the jerkwads out there.  we don't blame u for every crazy chick out there.  and trust me - there r plenty of crazy chicks.

DD:     true.  but there r plenty of nice girls too.  there r no nice guys - at least not once u start dating them.

Bear:     ouch

DD:     they start nice and then u start dating them and BOOM - jerk

Bear:     so can i disprove your theory after i date a girl when i don't turn jerk?  i can provide proof, references...

DD:     sure - i'll have a panel consider the evidence.  but let's be honest.  men = jerks.  male pic in the dictionary next to 'jerk' to prove it.

 Bear:     sending you a link...30 things women shouldn't do after age 30.  check out #8

At this point in the conversation, I check my e-mail to find this site - http://www.thefrisky.com/post/246-30-things-every-woman-should-quit-doing-by-30/

I scroll down the things every woman should quit doing by age 30, and #8 reads:

Declaring an entire gender 'all jerks.'

Okay, how does he do that?  I write back swearing that Bear is somehow responsible for crafting this website.

However, on the other hand, does the website make a valid point?  Is there an age where I am cut off from being skeptical and untrusting of the male gender?  Maybe it's like women wearing mini-skirts in their 40s, or men wearing loafers without socks before 45.  But don't I get a grace period—like 1 year before and after my husband throwing me out?

I decide Bear's list is utter nonsense (I will probably never stop using the name 'daddy' no matter how old I am), but maybe he is right.  Maybe I do need to build a bridge and get over it and accept the fact that one bad experience should not affect all my relationships going forward—if only it were that easy, though.  I can't seem to make my heart feel any differently about men.  At least not yet.

I suppose it's possible that building a bridge just never gets easier once it's been explosively burned down...or does it just take the right person on the other side of the ravine to help you navigate your way across? 

Since I did rule that the "30 Don't" list could use some work, I crafted some better lists—with help from my wonderful friends Mamasita, Rowdy, Dolly, and Stella.  Enjoy!

After the age of 30, a woman should not:

1. Wear a mini-skirt or a tube-top—obviously.
2. Try to "fix" or "change" men.  This lesson should have been learned by now, right?
3. SETTLE!  Better single than miserable.
4. Dress up for Halloween as a "sexy" anything.  Yes, a naughty school girl does count.
5. Do shots—that's what college was for.
6. Have un-dyed gray hair—that's what retirement is for.
7. Be jealous...of anyone.
8. Let a man determine her self-esteem.  No man is worth a shattered confidence.
9. Participate in a wet t-shirt contest.  Really—it needed to be said.
10. Be naïve.  Period.

After the age of 30, a woman should:

1. Date—a lot.
2. Treat herself to things she wants...especially when it comes to designer shoes.
3. Not sell herself short with men.  By the age of 30, you've dealt with a lot of crappy ones—you deserve it.
4. Learn to get a drink bought for her at a bar.  30s are the new 20s—own it.
5. Dress and act her age while staying young at heart.
6. Learn how to cook—microwave popcorn and soup from a can doesn't count.
7. Consider dating a guy slightly out of her 'Mr. Right' image.
8. Date someone younger—so long as the guy has been over the drinking age for at least a few years.
9. Make out like a teenager in the movie theater (you're 30, you're not dead).
10. Be happy with being herself—that includes the size of her butt, the shape of her nose, the hatred for spinning classes, the number of her wrinkles, the laziness in shaving her legs, the habit of being judgmental, and the addiction to Coach purses.  Love yourself—after 30 years together, you being you is at least one thing you can always count on.

Forever fearless,

Dumbfounded Divorcée

Thirty, Flirty, & Thriving

Very recently, I turned the big 3-0.  Thirty years old.  I remember when that seemed so old.  My students all keep guessing that I'm somewhere in my mid-twenties, but I think that has less to do with the fact that I look young and more to do with the fact that mid-twenties seems terribly old already from their perspective (and the one student who did guess that I was over 30 is for sure getting an 'F' in my class).

I really didn't think much about entering my third decade of life—that is, I didn't think much of it until I was barrelling toward that target as a recently-divorced woman.  For some strange reason, turning 30 didn't seem so bad when I was married.  I was supposed to be entering that mature, sophisticated, and domestic stage of adult life with the devoted husband, white-picket fence, and 2.5 kids (read:  I was supposed to grow up and stop acting like a drunken, careless, impulsive sophomore on spring break in Panama City).  Now suddenly, single again with my "twenties" life behind me, I feel as though I have lost my excuse for engaging in any heedless gluttony of the quarter-life crisis.

Last week, I was reading status updates on Facebook—wedding anniversaries, kids' halloween costume ideas, meal planning, wedding ideas, house buying, pregnancy photographers, laundry tips—and I stop for a second to look at myself:   I'm on four hours of sleep, recovering from martinis with the girls on a random Tuesday night, and eating ice cream out of the carton for dinner.  When did this regression back to my college life happen?  I used to think my life was very sophisticated and mature.

It seems like another life ago when I cooked dinner for a husband after work, wore a sweatshirt out on a Satuday date night to Five Guys for burgers, or cuddled next to someone in bed pondering together whether our kids would have my eyes or his.  My daily life once looked like one that any regular adult would be living at the age of 30, but suddenly, my days don't resemble anything I had once envisioned for my near future.

Don't get me wrong—I'm not unhappy with my circumstances.  In fact, I'm quite content.  I love that I can dance around my living room without worrying about anyone walking in and teasing me.  I love that I have a bedspread covered in pink flowers and a leopard-print pillow on my chair.  I love that, when Mamasita called the other night to see if I wanted to come over for dinner, there was no one I needed to consult before I replied, "Sure!"

I know that my life is just as it should be right now—it just wasn't where I expected to be on my 30th birthday.  Not even close.  I seriously think that the loss of that future vision we hold is one of the worst parts about losing a spouse (however that loss may happen).  You picture yourself sitting on the porch, drinking tea and talking about the "good ole days," with a certain someone and POOF!—that someone is no longer in the picture, and suddenly the whole picture vanishes.  It is a very unsettling feeling not to know something that you wish to know, but most people deal with the fact that you never know exactly where you are going in life.  It just becomes even harder when you unexpectedly don't know who you are going there with.

Thank goodness for the friends and family that I do know will be there every step of the way.

Let's hope Chanel and Stella are right.  Cheers to being thirty, flirty, and thriving—who knows what this new decade will bring....

Forever fearless,
Dumbfounded Divorcée