The End of An E(x)ra

I wanted to say farewell to the idea of my Awful Ex.

This is the last post I will ever post about him.

The future is ahead of me and the past is now in the past.

I don't know if it was simply seeing his circular form from afar for the third time in a year (I mean, in this BIG HUGE city I live in...what are the chances!?) or because I can taste my move coming now.....but, it is time.  I have been blogging here for nearly a year (time flies!) and Awful and I officially broke up in November 2011 and had our last true correspondence in July of 2012......time to let GO GO GO GO!

So, here it goes.

The pain in my heart no longer resides.  The anger and fear and hostility I have for him is no longer pulsating through my veins.  Peace has set in.

I don't like him as a person because I don't think he is truly good.  He was a terrible boyfriend to me.  A liar.  Manipulative.  Abusive.  AWFUL.

But, I cannot be a victim.  I allowed myself to be treated poorly and sometimes I lashed out.  I saw signs and decided to stay.  I turned a blind eye to things that I should never have....him not coming home some nights, calling my rolly tummy the "stormy sea..", telling me he would pay to lob off my belly and then me taking him up on it....not because I really wanted it....because I wanted him to pay for saying such hurtful things to me.  His indifference to marriage and children and commitment.  He was over 35 the entire time we dated and yet he was so childlike.  A teenage boy lost at sea in his little wooden boat...obsessed with popularity, friends, and parties......

And yes, there are parts of him that aren't so bad.  There are 3 sides to every story as they say....Besides his generosity to bribe people to be his friend, he is intelligent and a good son, a good brother, and a good uncle.  He is also a good friend to a few people, a REALLY GOOD ONE.  Dependable, kind, and patient.  He is also VERY smart.  He is a schlub, but not totally....I mean I did date him for over 2 years....

So why did I hold on so long?

This has been something I have been rolling around in my mind for a while in preparation of this post.

And I struggled with the answer over and over again and the truth is....

Well, I wanted my hatred for him to give me strength.

The strength to move on, to prove him wrong, and to lose weight.

And in many ways, I am still here.  I am moving and I have moved on, but I am actually heavier than I was when we broke up....so hate is not my secret weigh loss recipe anymore.

Just because it worked before when I heard a boy I thought was a friend call me fat in college and then I lost 40 pounds from WeightWatchers  starvation and sheer determination.....it isn't enough anymore and I find comfort in that.

I wanted to believe that my hatred for Awful would help me lose weight and it didn't at all.

Huge realization here.

Who wants to go through life angry, vindictive, and looking to prove someone wrong?

Not me.

Well, not me anymore.

And, I am not a total hypocrite because I am currently working on letting my distain for a few former clients go too, but that is still too raw to really process presently.

My clairvoyant did say that Awful would die young from a terrible and fatal accident (she specifically saw either a boating or motorcycle related one....which I used to have nightmares about last summer....) and I will admit that I don't wish that upon him, but if it happened, I wouldn't be surprised because he is reckless...drunk, risky, and fancy free.  As my Mom says, "Awful was always knee deep in his cups and drowning..." Her dislike for him grew immensely when he convinced my 5 months pregnant sister to go for a relaxing 10 minute boat cruise (you cannot argue with Awful about his boat...it is his way or the highway there..!) and got us stuck for hours in a huge body of water without food.  And the entire time he was convincing Sissy....I knew in my mind....it would be a disaster because everything with him often was!  After that occurrence.....my sister referred to him as "The Drunk Flailing Boat Troll" and as mean as it was....she was afraid that Big Baby was going to be born on the boat as 4 months to safety did seem like a realistic escape plan as he was always helpless when tragedy set in.

So, it is the end of my era with Awful Ex.  He will be the man we giggle about 10 years from now, while we get together for holiday suppers or weekend reunions with friends.....

And ask....

"What do you think ever happened to Kevin?"

(Yes, I went for a very cheesy and Sex and the City name drop reveal....!)

THE END!

It Is The People That Make The Party! An Answer To A Really Good Question.

I believe that people make or break a party.

You can spend $100 or a $1,000,000, but without good people who are there for the right reasons....it does not matter how much you spend.  A get together of any kind depends on the people there.  Great people make for great times.

After I posted last night, I received a heartfelt comment asking me this....:

What is stopping you from being the lady you always wanted to be in your heart now as opposed to when you move?

The answer is simply the people.

I know it seems too easy.  I know it seems like I am passing blame....I know I seem weak that I cannot overcome my past.  Some may think I am escaping.  Fleeing a place that I can't survive in.  I get all this.  I really do.  Some people are less influenced by public opinion.  This is something I am working on.

I am going to tell you a little story that I touched on briefly months ago when I posted about Bitch and Snake.  I consider it now a pivotal situation that shaped my life and my honesty.  The story connects very much to how people where I live handle the truth and how I came to choose lies to avoid backlash until rather recently.

Here we go!

My Mom has 2 brothers.  Both Ivy League, both geniuses in their own way.  1 a doctor and 1 a lawyer.  These brothers are close in age (2.5 years apart whereas my mom is 6 years younger than the middle brother) and were always in competition.  My Mom was exempt from this.  As the baby, as the only daughter, and since she has a slight physical disability...well, she was coddled and favored and not put into the severe pressure cooker that her brothers had to endure.

My Mom's oldest brother (and my favorite uncle) is a real success story.  He is just beyond words.  Hugely successful and admired in his field.  He is simply awe inducing.  I cannot believe that he is my Mom's brother sometimes...that they actually came from the same parents, he is just so intelligent and a phenomenal person.

My mom's middle brother....well, he is a genius, too.  But, different.  He struggled with mental illness, specifically depression and bipolar disorder most of his life.  But, he still accomplished so much.  He went to Harvard Law School.  He graduated top of his class.  He was a law partner at 1 of the most prestigious firms in Manhattan by age 35.  He was nothing to scoff at.  But, during his success, he tried to commit suicide several times.  He married and divorced the love of his life.  He got into cocaine.  He moved to a smaller place and started his own very successful private practice.  He married again.  He had 2 children.  He fell into another bout of depression and tried to kill himself.........he filed for bankruptcy....he hit absolute rock bottom.

And when he had no where to go and no one to turn to, he came to my Mom.  His baby sister.  He ended up living in my parents' basement when I was 14.  He lived with us for 2 full years.

I was born in New York.  My parents are New Yorkers.  Born and bred.  They didn't move to the Midwest until they were in their 40's.  New Yorkers own their shit.  They talk shit, too.  Yes, there are exceptions to my theory, but mostly the truth is the truth out there.  I was raised, like my parents were, to tell the truth.

When we moved out here, I remember people were always in disbelief of what I was saying.  Not that I was crude, just that I was open.  Open about my thoughts, my feelings, and my body.  I remember getting the message that this wasn't right.  That is wasn't socially acceptable to share what I did and I was always super confused as to why....why was the truth now bad if it was always okay and accepted before?

So, my uncle was living in my basement and my Mom was a bit confused about how to proceed.  She, like me, had made new friends who showed her that being honest wasn't always the best way to be if you lived here.  She was always very conflicted and would regularly share that people were "talking bad about her and she had no idea why", but unlike me, she really didn't care much and went about her life confidently.  My Mom is extremely confidant.  I remember her asking me "if we should tell people that my uncle had a nervous breakdown?" and I agreed that it was nothing to me ashamed of.  People do have nervous breakdowns sometimes, great people.  Geniuses.  But, my mom did tell me "that some people here (Midwest) don't like the truth and I don't want you to be brought into this."  It was like she knew that this situation may not be acceptable.  She felt it.

1 day, Bitch's mom called up my Mom to ask about my uncle.  I had been at Bitch's after school and I had asked to use the computer at her house to print something and mentioned that "I hadn't been in my basement for a while because my uncle was down there" and it piqued Momma Bitch's interest.

Blood in the water.

My Mom didn't spin the story when asked.  She shared everything.  The suicide attempts, the cocaine, the failed marriages, the bankruptcy.  Now, I know that I would have done the same thing as her.  But, even a few months ago, I wouldn't have.  My mom owns her shit.  She is awesome this way.

The next day, I went to school and I felt new stares in the hallways.  People were treating me differently.  At lunch, when I asked what the hell was going on to my "friends", Bitch replied...."My mom told me that your uncle is poor and crazy and sponging off your parents.  How pathetic.  She also said that your mom said that mental illness runs in your family, so now it all makes sense.  You are crazy."

Ahhhh.....I was now known as a crazy person at high school because my mom told the truth.

You see how this little tale got spun?  Because of the people.

That year, I got dumped by my friends, I didn't get asked to any dances, and I worked really hard to remove the crazy stigma (ironic now that I suffer from depression).  I made new friends from other schools and came back better for it, only to fall for the same tricks again.  I was dumped again my senior year for being crazy......and I think some of my depression does come from the idea that other people think I am crazy.  I cannot believe I just admitted that, but it is true...I endured bullying.  Lots of it.  But, this was before Facebook and all that.  Sometimes I think that if I lived now as a teenage in my old high school with all of the social media...well, I would have killed myself from the nonstop bullying.  At least when I was younger, the bullying existed mostly at school and from being left out, but my emotions were manageable. I could escape the tourture in the hours I didn't have to be at school.

Down South, ...people own their lives. Again a general statement and I am sure exceptions apply here, too.

SIDENOTE: Please know that I share my personal experiences and I try to tow the line with over-generalizing, but I will say things are simply passive-aggressive where I am for me, in my town.  I don't want to debate it that much as I know that everyone has their own life experience and the story I am telling is my own.

In the South, some things may be said sweetly, but real life is real.  1 of the reasons my parents got on famously with Crush's was because neither set has secrets.  My Mom openly shared her brother's issues, my Dad openly shared his struggles with my Grandmother and his sister, Crush's parents shared personal things that no one in my area would ever openly claim.  And they did so without spinning it.  Just the truth.  A few moments on each subject.  No whispers. No judgement.  Accept reality and move on.

My parents couldn't believe that during the trip when we ran into Crush's parents friends and something came up, everyone answered candidly, even in front of my folks....this would NEVER happen in my neighborhood....you see here, private information leaks from a trusted source.  A person tells someone they trust, like my Mom to Bitch's mom and then stories get passed along and shared, but because people are embarrassed to share their truth in public here, there is no control over what gets out.

Here is an example of a real exchange down South that I heard over the weekend:

Crush's mom when seeing an old friend: "How is Dean?  Is he enjoying life as a newlywed?"

Old Friend: "Darling...didn't you hear?  He is already getting divorced!  Love is a complicated thing.  But, there were no babies yet, so he will be okay.  He learned a lot.  Does Ready and Fading have a single sister?"

If this was in my neighborhood, this is how it would have likely gone:

My Mom when seeing an old friend: "How is Dean?  Is he enjoying life as a newlywed?"

Old Friend: "Of course (even if the divorce proceeding were already occurring)!  He is so happy and we are so happy and we are just praying for grand babies.  How are you?  How are things?  How are the girls? (SUBJECT CHANGE)."

Then my Mom would find out a few weeks later than Dean was getting divorced and her feelings would be hurt that her old friend didn't tell her, but she would be forced to understand that the lie was to "save face" and done in "protection."

Aren't you all confused?

I am!!!

So, to sum this all up.....when I moved home less than 2 years ago, I didn't realize how much pain and emotional distress coming home to a place with the people I avoided for over 12 years would bother me.  I thought that I would be safe.  I thought people would understand the distress I was enduring.  No one did.  No one cared.  I didn't want sympathy, I wanted understanding.  I hide out because it is easier for me than it is to face the reality that my life is not what other people here think it should be.  I am okay with this.  I am weak here and I know it.  It is an issue that I am trying to work through in therapy and something I have been dealing with for 2/3s of my life.  It ain't pretty, but it is mine.

I am excited to start over and to be given the opportunity to wipe my slate clean.  To be the honest, open, free person I have always wanted to be in a place that accepts this type of behavior.

You see, down South, "crazy people" are simply "characters" and everyone loves a character!

The people here, are not privy to my party.

Grandmother Does Not Always Know Best

Yesterday, I spent the morning with my Mommy, cousins, and my aunt and uncle.  We celebrated Mother's Day with lots of cake and presents celebrating my youngest cousin's 3rd birthday.  It was such a lovely brunch and I realized just how much I am going to miss this family.  We weren't always super close growing up (my oldest cousins are 12 years older than me), but ever since I graduated college, I see them often and always look forward to it. They are all super accomplished, but down to earth, fun, and excellent company to enjoy way too much wine with!

After brunch (in my case too much frosting!), Mom and I headed to see my Grandmother.  My Dad (it is his mom) went out east to see Sissy and the babies for Mother's Day.  My parents like to take turns going out there, so they can give Sissy the most help possible, they are very kind like that.

Grandmother was her usual bitter self, but it was the good deed of the day.  She deserved a visit because she gave birth to my Dad who just happens to be one of the best gents around.

During our visit, Grandma, spoke at us and NOT to us.  She likes to do this.  Grandma is very upset about her life and the way it turned out.  It breaks my heart.  She didn't love her life.  She now tells us that she didn't love my Grandfather (who I miss dearly and who I believe had a major influence setting me up with Crush...I was closest with him and my mom's mother out of all of my grandparents).....

She is starting to reinvent the past to fit her theories.  She tells us that my Grandfather didn't want my Dad to go to college (FALSE, my Grandfather was SUPER proud of how smart my dad was and encouraged him to work as hard as he could, so he could get an academic scholarship and my Dad did just that) and that my Grandfather died with tons of money that is in a hidden account (FALSE, he died with almost nothing and my Dad supports his mother entirely and pays for her living facility and caregiver and both are EXTREMELY expensive and she shows no appreciation....my Dad could put her in a nursing home, but he doesn't want to do it since he has some money saved).

My Dad has become very depressed since retiring and losing his father because he feels obligated to see my Grandmother every day and every day she sits and tells him these huge tales and it hurts him.  He has started to fight back and he wasn't raised that way (to disrespect his elders), so now my Grandmother feels like he is taking my Grandfather's side and come on.....let my Grandfather rest in peace....he died still married to her.  Why is she SO ANGRY????

The truth is that my Grandmother has never been a happy woman.  She is the type that needs conflict to feel control.  She was born to a very wealthy family and was raised a much higher class than my Grandfather was raised.  She felt superior to him.  Her father died suddenly of a heart attack at age 50 in the midst of the Depression and he had lost their fortune from making a bad investment a few months prior to his death....they were left with nothing.  My Grandmother had to work to support her family at age 15 and her mother had a nervous breakdown.  She married my Grandfather at 24, but now tells us that she could have married better, that she was forced to be low class....she married him out of desperation and for shelter.

Listening to her is exhausting...especially because you cannot dispute her stories.....

Everyone in my family loves Crush, including my Grandmother.  Oooooohhhh, I do have to applaud Grandma for her tirades on Awful, I even have to admit that she gave him some good digs....and once referred to him as a troll which wasn't nice at all, but is not far from the truth.

She told me that Crush is everything she ever wanted yesterday.....she said, "Your fellow is what I should have had.  He is tall, handsome, kind, gentile, and upper class.  He is really a good find.  Do whatever you can to marry him.  Do not let him get away.  You will never ever do better.  Trust me.  You are aging.  Is his family okay with your weight and class level?  They must see through it because you are Jewish, so with all of this intermarriage at least you have that going for you...."

I just sat there and.........laughed.  I know it wasn't perhaps the best reaction, but my Mom and I looked at each other and had a full-out giggle fit.  Her words are just words.  I cannot let them bother me because it isn't worth it.

Weight-wise, I do have to work on it a bit, that is true...but I am not morbidly obese.  Class-wise...I cannot even get into this lunacy...yes, Crush's family is very established, but they are not unapproachable and my family also (including MOST of my Grandmother's nieces and nephews) has tons of kind, successful, professional people in it....I do not know what she is talking about it....

Then she left me with this nugget of wisdom:

"Get thin, so when they say bad things about you, at least they will not be calling you fat.."

HIGH SCHOOL!  OMG, my Grandmother is a mean 11th grader.

Yesterday, all of my lessons that I have been living became fully formed.  My Grandmother helped me see that without happiness, life is not worth really living.

Finding that happiness is a personal mission and what makes one person happy cannot be said about another.  Everyone needs to find their own destiny, their own calling, their own good place for them.

I am going to be everything that my Grandmother couldn't be because I plan to die happy.

It won't be just because of Crush (he will of course have a lot to do with it, but not EVERYTHING).

It won't be just because I may have money.

It won't be because I am a size six.

If I am blessed to live until 94, I will be happy because I was given the miracle of life and decided that life is too short to dwell on what went wrong.

What is important to recall is what went right.

HAPPY MONDAY!

Teenage Turmoil

Today, I had many things planned.  I am currently checking my list off.  All of the months of tomorrow are here.  There are no more tomorrows.....it is time to get things done once and for all!

I was on my way to the library to work (in order to make the weight loss stick, I have to change my spaces and working at cafes is no longer an option for me as I was using cookies as bribes to myself to finish tasks....) when I received a call from my favorite teenager, Emma, asking me to join her for lunch.  Emma and I have a special bond.  I babysat her from the time she was born.  I spent some vacations and summers with her family.  We are 15 years apart in age, but we are super similar.  We like the same music, the same food, the same clothes, the same movie stars, and we are both tall and statuesque women.  We have both been teased many times for being big (tall ) and fat (over a size 8 in my community), she has been called a Sasquatch, where I was called an ogre.

SIDENOTE: If I looked like her in a bikini, I would never wear clothes.  Teenagers are fools.  Skinny is great, but the reality is that it is not the only acceptable body type out there.

Today, Emma had a half day from school.  Today, she was ditched by a group of her "friends" that she was supposed to go to lunch with.

When she called me, I could hear the hurt in her voice.  I know this very feeling.  The way your heart can ache.  The burn you get in your throat trying to hold back the tears and smile through it.  The emptiness and anxiety that clouds your brain.  I didn't hesitate for a moment.  "Let's meet for lunch, anywhere you want, my treat."

As she sobbed into her burrito, I held her hand and told her all the things I WISH someone would have said to me.  I shared, "It is only high school, none of this matters, seriously.  Study and focus on you and college is all about starting over.  Girls are mean.  This town is tough.  Mean girls grow into mean ladies and you are better than this.  Be yourself and be true to your heart.  If someone hurts you, then cross them off your list.  Be kind to them, but don't trust them.  There is more to life than this silly suburb.  Grades first and then off to college being the girl you want to be."

When I moved back home with my folks a year and a half ago, my anxiety spiraled out of control.  All of my best laid plans didn't exist anymore and I was lonely, embarrassed, and really uncomfortable.  I hated high school.  I had left this suburb at 18 years old and besides 6 weeks that I lived at home in between finishing college and starting my first real job, I never lived in the town I spent the later part of my childhood.  Because I HATED it.  Because I HATED the people.  Because being home meant being reminded of the hurt and despair I felt in high school.

I have been hiding out for 18 months.  That was hard to admit, but it is the truth. I don't go places I think I may see anyone from my past because I don't want to face it.  I am almost ready to share one of my lowest moments to date regarding an absolute explosion of work and life that happened in September, but I am still processing it.  I am still aching from it.  It will be coming soon......I promise.

BUT, the rainbow in this (shit) storm of breaking up with Awful AND moving home was reconnecting with Emma.  She was starting her sophomore year of high school when I moved back and she was going through lots of the same angst I had lived through at the very same high school.  We started bonding over shared experiences and the advice I could give at age 30 was more relevant to her than anything her parents were sharing, even if it was mostly the same.  Emma started helping me with my work, excelling at school, and last night was even inducted into The National Honors Society.  Her parents tell me I gave her this confidence and I believe it.  Her life turned around when I came home.  I can't think of a better compliment and I do think our reconnection was meant to be.

Being close to Emma allows me to press the reset button a bit.  To live vicariously through a young gal who may have ended up in a pit of self doubt, self hate, and low self esteem like me, but didn't.  She picked right when I chose left at that fork in the road and she is making better decisions at 17 than I ever did.  She has helped me put closure on high school.  On the 4 years of my life I wish I could do over.  On the time that I picked popularity over everything else.....and it only got me right back home at age 30 with only 1 real friend from high school.

Over the weekend, Crush was looking through old photos and stumbled upon a few of my high school friends. Even though I explained previously, that high school wasn't my favorite time,  he was curious about them, wanted to know what they were up to, and wasn't taking the hint that I didn't want to talk about it.  After continuing to ask me several questions about them, I finally snapped, "I have no idea, they are all crazy bitches...."  Indeed, by my reaction, I was the only crazy bitch.

But,  there is a part of me that is still a bit angry.  I was such a cool person then.  I was also innocent.  I had no idea of my potential and I closed a few doors in the process because I didn't believe in myself.  Because I listened and took very seriously the critiques thrown my way: fat, stupid, annoying, and ugly.  I even believed I was a slut and a possible lesbian because the girls in my grade told me I was even though I didn't have any real sexual experiences until after high school and never thought of girls as anything, but friends.

The things I was accused of, they weren't true and the way I felt I had to act, that wasn't me.  

As I munched on my salad today, I told Emma a piece of advice that I hope stays with her:

"Nothing now really matters unless you let it.  I let people hurt me, I allowed myself to be broken by girls I never really respected.  I wasted so many years of my life being angry.  Please do what you can to not end up like me, to not end up hateful of things that happened half a lifetime ago.  If you don't like the game, don't play it.  In 1 year (she is graduating early), none of this matters, so in the meantime, become yourself.  Crack your shell open and be the person your truly are inside."

I have a feeling that she will listen.

Now, I have to follow my own advice.

I have to close these doors and lock them and not take any past issues with me down South.

I deserve better, just like Emma.

A Man With No Plan

I really only had 2 boyfriends before Crush.  Neither of them were very good.  1 was a sociopath that I found in bed with an 18 year old girl and 1 was Awful.....oy.

Somewhere in the middle of those two, I met a man who I slept with on and off for 2+ years.  I never considered him a boyfriend, but he did tell me he loved me and considered me his girlfriend when I was thin.  I told him I loved him back, but I truly didn't mean it.  I feel bad even typing that, but it is true.  Let's call him Simple Simon.

Simple Simon wasn't that smart even though he had a job that would lead you to believe that he was.  SS embarrassed me.  He wasn't polished, he was selfish in bed, and a terrible kisser at first (he became quite awesome).....SS was super cheap and had money issues......but, there was something I liked about him....

He was impressed by my accomplishments.  He liked that I knew how to do things: cook, clean, have sex, etc.  He also liked that I had hobbies: acting, reading, working out, riding my bike.....I think he thought I may have been out of his league and I believed I was, too.  I hesitated introducing him to my friends.....and when we did hang out with them, well, he always acted like a fool.  It mortified me.  So much so that I wished for "someone that did not embarrass me in public" on my husband list because of SS.

SS and I met at a Fourth of July Party 5 years ago.  We were both VERY drunk.  We made out that night and then continued to hang out off and on.  He was using me for sex.  I was using him for sex, even though it wasn't very good.  I was just lonely.  All of my friends were coupled up and having fun with their significant others.  All I wanted was some company and all he wanted was to get laid.

SS never wanted to go anywhere with me publicly.  I was going through a chubby phase and he told me that my weight embarrassed him.  I didn't like him enough to care or lose weight.  Whatever.  One night he called me to tell me he couldn't see me anymore because he was falling in love with me and I wasn't what he pictured in his plans.  I asked him what his plans were and he couldn't tell me.

A few weeks later, he told me I was beautiful, but my weight and religion (he was Catholic and I'm Jewish) made it impossible for us to have a future.  I remember feeling sad during this conversation, but not at all broken.....I was slightly whatever about it.  I liked him, but I didn't love him and I did not see a real future with him either.  I also wanted to watch something on TV that night, I remember just wanting to get off the phone.

Summer turned into fall and my sister got engaged.  We lost touch and I began working out and eating well and dropping the pounds.  30 or so in a matter of months.  My metabolism is so messed up for losing and gaining weight off and on starting when I was 20, so this is just how my body works.  We ran into each other one night as I was leaving the gym and he was jogging and his jaw hit the floor when he saw me.  Now that I was thin, I was closer to his ideal....the remaining issue was then just my religion.

We started hanging out again and I loved having the power and feeling sexy.  His approval was a turn-on for me.  We hung out often.  I cooked for him, we went for bike rides, he joined me for a business trip to New Orleans, and we even spent 1 NYE together with one of my best friends.  But, my heart was never in it.  We were too different.  He was a jerk, even though I don't truly think he believed he was one. He told me all about other girls.  I decided to date other men.  It was a bit of a mess.  Yet, he continued to tell me he loved me and I continued to say it back.....lies.  I would never do that now.  NEVER.  Another huge issue I had with him was that he was a porn addict.  He wanted to have sex porno style and he was often disrespectful to me in bed.  I didn't have the self confidence or awareness to tell him to stop treating me like shit.

I slept with him the entire summer before Sissy's wedding.  I didn't invite him to the wedding.  I didn't want to introduce him to my family.  Like I said, he embarrassed me.

A few weeks before the wedding, I was at his condo (that his brother who is an accomplished surgeon bought him) cooking him dinner and he decided to get drunk.  He had had a bad day at work and he couldn't explain why, he could never articulate his thoughts very well, but he was upset.  He started taking shots of Jack Daniels and became drunk quickly.  It was terrifying.  He never drank much.  He wolfed down his food and then proceeded to load the dishwasher and started going on and on about how awesome it was that he had a dishwasher.  I had one in my place and as awesome as dishwashers are, it was all really odd.  Then, he put bathroom soap into the machine....like, he squirted the soap over the dishes like water from a hose.....I tried to correct him and he called me a "fat, ugly, Jewish, know it all bitch."  I grabbed my purse and left.

As I walked briskly back to my place, I knew that I never wanted to see him again....EVER.  I told my doorman to not let him up ever again and I deleted him from my phone.

I was actually relieved because I was looking for a way out and he gave it to me.  It was what I wanted.  I wanted to dump him flat on his face for not wanting to date me at first because I was fat.

SS was hard to shake.  He showed up at my place, my gym, my work.  I never told anyone.  I felt like he wasn't really smart enough to do anything bad and he lived in fear of the DUI he had gotten years before and was very careful and afraid of police, so at least I had that on my side.

Eventually he went away....every few months I do get an email for him asking me to coffee and offering an apology.  I always delete it without responding.

I cyber-stalked him a few days ago and not surprisingly, he is still single.

I wish him the best, I really do.  So happy I didn't settle for that.

It is times like these when I realize how lucky I am for Crush.

Real Friends, Internet Friends,THANK YOU, Honesty, and Getting Up After You Have Been Knocked Down...The Most Random and Honest Post Ever

In the last year, I have learned who my true friends are.

It took an Awful breakup, a move back home, and a BIG step towards full self-improvement, self-respect, and self-confidence.

My real friends stood by me each and every step of the way.

These people have seen me through ups and downs.  Have stalked me down when I couldn't turn up for events or get out of bed.  Even when I post here now and I am down, I get wonderful texts from a real friend on the West coast who is checking in to support me, love me, and be there for me....from thousands of miles away.  I am lucky.

Internet friends (and some real friends, too) THANK YOU all for reading and for letting me share my honesty.  I thank you all for believing in me.  The virtual support, advice, and love is inspiring.  There are so many wonderful people in this world.  I forget this sometimes when I let my bitter and bad bite me. This blog is cleansing. It has helped me be a better person, a kinder soul, and most importantly, honest.  I have been fighting with honesty for as long as I can remember......

I think my lying started as a defense mechanism when I was young, before I can even really consciously remember.  From therapy, I am piecing together that I do think being called "fat and big" by many people including my grandmother, family friends, and peers at school (I can remember being taunted in nursery school) made me create an alternate reality of sorts to protect myself.  Instead of being fat, I wanted to be wonderful.  I needed to be loved, I needed to be adored, I needed to be admired, and I needed to distract the world from calling me fat so much, so I lied.  Sometimes, I remember blurting something random out to distract people from calling me fat when I felt like they were going to say it.

I remember not lying from 3rd grade when I started over in a new school and wasn't called fat for a while until 6th grade when I was publicly mocked and taunted for an entire year by the most popular boys in school one year older than me.  Being circled and being chanted "Ogre" at still haunts me.  As I have been processing my past pain, it is something I have nightmares about from time to time.  There is nothing worse than public humiliation.  It is one of the reasons I don't even believe in negative reviews for restaurants or service professionals online.  I like to go to the source and let my feelings be known directly because I am so sensitive of being a bully.  It is why I get pushed around in business, too.

After junior high, I got my lying in check for a while until my uncle had a nervous breakdown, lost his very high profile job, and went bankrupt.  He got divorced for the second time, lost custody of his 2 children, had shock therapy, and lived in my parents' basement.  For over 1 year....the same year Sissy went to college and my Nana who I adored, passed away.  It was my sophomore year of high school and Bitch and Snake had just really gotten their fangs into me good.  I fell apart.  My mom confided in some ladies from the neighborhood (and Bitch's and Snake's moms) and they gossiped horribly about my family, spun tales, and mocked us.  It is what people around here do and one of the reasons why helping clients from these parts sometimes snipes me.  It is popular to jump on the bandwagon and kick people when they are down and that isn't how I was raised or how my heart works. Not to totally generalize an area, but it is very vicious, and stupid, and silly, and catty and really pathetic.  I lied ever since high school until lately in some capacity.

My lies weren't huge and were mostly exaggerations.  I knew when I was lying, too, so that is easier to fix.  I have been practicing some tactics for over a year and it has really made the truth the way with me.  I think this is why 2 of my clients fired me.  Because there are more liars than honest people in my industry and I didn't want to hustle anymore.  I think they took the shift in my personality as giving up when it was actually getting better.

Yesterday and today, I have been calling vendors personally and admitting I lost a client and made mistakes.  They have all complimented my honesty and said that they have ALL been fired, too.  It is simply a part of business and learning lessons.  They all thanked me for allowing them to keep the client and for admitting fault.  It was the right thing to do.

I went to coffee with a fantastic entrepreneur and young businessman yesterday and asked him for advice. I told him what I did wrong and he walked me through many of my mistakes step by step and offered me excellent recommendations, guidance, and sympathy.  Because I was able to openly say, "I kinda fucked up." Which is the truth.  I should have fired the clients before they fired me.  No more victim here.

Today, another vendor of mine, who I called to report the firing to, asked to take me to lunch to help. He is going to help me identity the best clients for me and help me finalize my new website which is very close to being done and was delayed for a while while I was sorted out where I was going to live next year city-wise.

And I know all this good is happening because I am honest.

I know this post was random, but this has all been on the tip of my tongue and it feels so yummy to let it all out.

I plan to return some calls this weekend and catch up with real friends and offer my love and support to them, too.

Happy Friday and have a wonderful day!

I Only Remember the Bad Things

When I was 3, I was first called fat at nursery school by a boy in my class, I remember what I was wearing that day (overalls and a pink shirt) and how I first become aware of my body.

When I was 4, I overhead my grandma telling my dad that she was concerned I would have a weight problem for the rest of my life and he should put me on a diet.

When I was 5, a girl in my kindergarten classed asked me why I was "so big" and I went home and cried.

When I was 7, my mom told me to stop eating pretzel rods because I was becoming a piggy and I went to my room and thought about how I eat too much.

When I was 10, the boys rated the girls in my grade on face, body, and personality.  I got an 8 for face, a 2 for body, and a 10 for personality.

When I was 11, the boys one year older than me nicknamed me ogre.  They chanted it to me (about 25 of them) at lunch time and screamed it in the halls.  My dad went over to the 2 ringleaders homes' and confronted them after months of it when I stopped eating, sleeping, or wanting to go to school.  I never spoke to most of those boys for years to follow, I was afraid of them.  I still have nightmares about this. Being circled by a bunch of pre-pubescent boys and being chanted out because of my body was by far one of the most hurtful things that has ever happened.  It never really went away all through junior high and high school, I was still referred to as ogre by some until the boys a year ahead of me went to college.

When I was 14, I overhead a boy I had a crush on telling his friend that he knew I liked him and he just couldn't get over how big I was.  I was a size 8 and 5'8".

When I was 16, a boy I used to make out with told me to lose weight.  I did.  He then asked me out.

When I was 17, the boys in my grade dared the boy I liked to touch my butt because it was apparently so big and disgusting that it required a dare.

When I was 18, I dressed up for Halloween and got mistaken for a man.  I still hate wearing wigs because of this.

When I was 20, I found out that a person I considered a friend had a secret nickname for me that involved a hippo.  I joined WeightWatchers the next day.

When I was 25, I dated a man with serious mental issues who told me I was obese.  I was 30 pounds thinner than I am now.

When I was 27, I ran into a guy from high school who seemed interested in me, until his friends asked me if I had a penis because apparently at almost 5'10" (really 5' 9" and a half), I am such a freak of nature that I seem like a man, even though I am actually quite feminine (I always feel bad when people make fun of Khloe Kardashian, my body is like hers and I would so be made fun of if I was famous!).

When I was 28, I dated Awful and he encouraged me to have plastic surgery on my stomach because I had rolls and stretch marks on my abdomen. I went ahead with it because I was scared if I didn't, he would break up with me.

When I was 31, I fell in love with some special...myself!  I stripped myself down naked and stood in front of the mirror and realized that I have a lot to be happy about.  My curves are beautiful, my height is statuesque, and my breasts are adorable.  Then, I fell in love with an incredible man who loves every single inch of me and makes me feel so beautiful, always.

Don't feel bad for me.  People often tell me wonderful things about me, the compliments far outweigh the insults.  I just chose to never hear the positives and got stuck focusing on the negatives until recently and the only person at fault here is me because I let the opinions of others influence the way I lived my life and the choices I made.

Now, I process, acknowledge, and accept compliments and go deaf to the insults.

People who insult are simply looking for love.....the kind of love that only comes from loving yourself.