So I've spent far too many days trying to figure out the direction I want this blog to go in. It's called No Sex and the South, and believe me... I'm still not having sex. I have a five year old and the man that I love has a four year old. There is very little sex being had in our relationship... but please be patient as I navigate the growing pains as I decide exactly what to do with the blog.
I know that this whole "relationship" thing has really put a damper on the blog. I haven't been writing, but honestly it has nothing to do with not having material or even with not having the time or energy or desire. It's had everything to do with wanting to make sure I get this right. I had to have a vision. A goal.
Truth be told, I didn't realize how many people cared about my relationship status until I started actually dating someone. "Do NOT fall in love, Kayla. You can't do that. What about the blog??" I can't even begin to tell you how many times I heard that. And, quite frankly, I didn't want to fall in love. I was happy for the first time in so long. I had my own apartment. My own life. Didn't have to answer to anyone. I had this blog and my readers were loving reading about Mr. White. They wanted to see if he was going to try to work his way back in. They wanted to know exactly what those pictures of Clooney entailed. Relationships are boring. Clooney sex surely would not be. And I was right there with you guys. Trust me. I didn't want a relationship. I mean, sure. A part of me wanted to be loved and be all mushy and have someone to rub my back and all of that great relationship stuff. But I didn't trust guys. Not a single one of them. I mean, come on--- Mr. White was married. Have we forgotten that?? And with every picture Clooney sent, I wondered how many other girls had gotten the same picture. The Ex had ruined me. And it wasn't even just THE Ex. It was the majority of the Exes. And it was other guys that I've known who have been unfaithful to girlfriends and wives. It was the ones screwing their secretaries. It was the ones in the bar overheard saying "a blow job isn't actually cheating". It was pretty much every man I had ever encountered. It was guys that I had been with myself. It was a guy who was married to one of my former friends. It was, again, every man I knew for the most part. So, no. I didn't trust him. I didn't trust any man and it wasn't worth the risk.
Until it was.
So I did it. Admittedly, I'd had a few drinks and my best friend had coerced me into sending a "relationship request" on facebook. Okay. So maybe it was more of a "Do you dare me?" thing. But regardless. She dared me. The people at the table next to us in the restaurant dared me. Well, with the exception of this one guy who was all "No. Don't do that. Maybe discuss it first. Then let him do it."
That guy was dumb. We did not listen to that guy.
I had my best friend checking my hopefully-soon-to-be-boyfriend"s facebook page regularly to see if he had accepted yet & if it was showing up on his page. Before we left the parking lot we were "facebook official". BAM.
Thirty minutes later, the bestie and I were at a local watering hole. Watering hole. Do people still even call it that? I mean, it's a bar. Not so much a hole in the wall, but definitely not a club. The finest South Lowndes County has to offer. (Seriously, though. If you find yourself in South Lowndes County- even if you're just passing through- stop by Rascal's. You won't regret it. The food is phenomenal. The staff is great. You won't find better ownership. And the after-hours environment is just low-key enough to make you feel like you fit in no matter where you're from.) I digress. We were at the bar. Apparently, the news had spread like wild fire. Well. That's not entirely true. Lake Park isn't that big. Pretty much the entire town is my friend on Facebook. No. I actually have a friend on Facebook that says "Lake Park, GA". The amount of people who already knew about my new relationship was astounding. "Don't do this. You can't do this. What will happen to the blog?"
I was kind of with them.
What would happen to the blog? Would I just make up stuff? Would I continue talking about life as it was? Would I just talk about the past and what lead me to this point?
I knew I couldn't just let it go. This blog is crucial to my sanity. Granted, the drinking that I do to be able to relax enough to write it is probably hell on my liver. I've put away more than half a bottle of Bacardi Black tonight (I'm SORRY, Keil!!!!). And it's the big bottle. I stole it from my best friend (I SAID I'M SORRY!!!) It's no Sailor Jerry, but it will do in a pinch.
So- I've decided. I'm just going to write whatever comes to my mind. It's what I'm best at. For what it's worth, No- I do not think I'm Carrie Bradshaw (told you I went through your phone, boyfriend of mine). I just think that I'm relatable. Carrie was in her own way. But in the same way that Carrie relates to NY socialites, I relate to the small town girl.. which is also the same way we women all relate to each other. I can hate your ex girlfriend or your current girlfriend or your baby mama or your actual mama or your best girl "friend" and still totally relate to her. Because I'm a girl. We all do it. But the blog will continue. Now that I've decided what to do with it- it will continue. You'll probably hear a little more about my past than you ever cared to know. You'll know exactly what's going on at the current time (I'm presently planning on letting this man of mine wife the shit out of me), as well as all of the drama I hear about from people who probably are only telling me so that they can "get on the blog"... or maybe they're praying their secrets never make the blog. In that case, consider this my disclaimer: If you don't want it on the blog, don't tell me. Or make sure you tell me you don't want it on the blog.
Regardless- I promise I'm getting back to it. And with all the information I've been given this past week, as well as everything going on in my own love life- I assure you I have plenty to write.
Thanks for staying loyal. I won't let you down.
Wednesday, September 30, 2015
Sunday, September 13, 2015
It's my blog and I can write if I want to...
"Why is she still writing about me?" Mr. White asked our mutual friend.
She had gotten behind on the blog, so she was unsure what he was referring to. Now, as my loyal followers know, I have gotten behind on the blog, myself. The only thing I had written about him was that I hadn't heard any more out of him since he left for Spain. And, of course, now I'm writing about the cowardice when a man asks another female rather than go to the woman in question. However, I don't care. I actually find it rather humorous.
The thought crossed my mind to continue writing about him as though he was still a player in my little game. I decided against that. As enticing as it was to pursue something with this enigma of a man, I couldn't be the other woman. Not after being cheated on for the better part of the past 18 months. If you feel the need to be with other women- leave the one you're with.
My mind would still go back to being pinned against his SUV in that parking lot... my keys gripped tightly in my hand with the lower half of his body pressed close against my own... my hair pulled back tight in his fist... his tongue tracing the outline of my lips...
I couldn't... I wouldn't.
And I had been distracted anyway. Clooney had taken over my mind and was ready to do the same to my body. He came home and was ready to "watch Netflix and chill"... I was ready.
I had not actually slept with anyone since the Ex's friend, so I felt I needed that release of "tension", so to speak. My friends/readers were ready, as well. But by this time, there was someone...
And it happened.
Shit.
The one thing my readers begged of me to not let happen.
DO NOT GET FEELINGS FOR ANYONE, they would plead with me.
"What will happen to the blog?" they asked.
The blog will stay. Don't worry about that.
I'm crazy about this man in my life, but this blog is still my life online.
And if the past week is any indication of the future of this blog... it's only going to get better.
She had gotten behind on the blog, so she was unsure what he was referring to. Now, as my loyal followers know, I have gotten behind on the blog, myself. The only thing I had written about him was that I hadn't heard any more out of him since he left for Spain. And, of course, now I'm writing about the cowardice when a man asks another female rather than go to the woman in question. However, I don't care. I actually find it rather humorous.
The thought crossed my mind to continue writing about him as though he was still a player in my little game. I decided against that. As enticing as it was to pursue something with this enigma of a man, I couldn't be the other woman. Not after being cheated on for the better part of the past 18 months. If you feel the need to be with other women- leave the one you're with.
My mind would still go back to being pinned against his SUV in that parking lot... my keys gripped tightly in my hand with the lower half of his body pressed close against my own... my hair pulled back tight in his fist... his tongue tracing the outline of my lips...
I couldn't... I wouldn't.
And I had been distracted anyway. Clooney had taken over my mind and was ready to do the same to my body. He came home and was ready to "watch Netflix and chill"... I was ready.
I had not actually slept with anyone since the Ex's friend, so I felt I needed that release of "tension", so to speak. My friends/readers were ready, as well. But by this time, there was someone...
And it happened.
Shit.
The one thing my readers begged of me to not let happen.
DO NOT GET FEELINGS FOR ANYONE, they would plead with me.
"What will happen to the blog?" they asked.
The blog will stay. Don't worry about that.
I'm crazy about this man in my life, but this blog is still my life online.
And if the past week is any indication of the future of this blog... it's only going to get better.
The Ex Files
"I feel sorry for Big. I was the best thing that ever happened to him and he just let me walk away..."-Carrie.
Wow. Carrie's poor friends. They're sitting at brunch. They're listening, still, to Carrie talk about how much better off she is without Big. What a mistake he made. Obsessing.
I wouldn't do anything like that.
Not me.
I lie. My poor friends. My poor, poor friends.
Now I don't want to make it seem as though I wake up every morning thinking of the Ex. I don't. I did. For a while. I mean... it hasn't been that long since the last time we were together. Seven weeks. That's it. You can't just "get over" the person you planned to spend the rest of your life with in seven weeks, can you? That was a big reason behind this blog. To get my feelings out and explore other aspects of my sexuality that weren't directly connected to him. And it wasn't even about sex, really. I'm really not the promiscuous type. I just want to feel. I want to be over him. There's a part of me that wanted to jump into a new relationship just because he was already with someone new. I had convinced myself I was ready before I had pulled out of his driveway that last day together. But I wasn't. What good would that do, huh? I mean, I had put extensive thought into it. If I were going to date someone- it had to be an upgrade, right? Not even a lateral move. The next guy had to be far more attractive, more successful, more funny, more intelligent... more better. Okay. So "more better" isn't exactly correct... but you get the point. Then I realized- I wasn't going to see anyone as "more better" as long as I was still in love with him. So- all I could do is wait.
Let me stop right there. He is NOT good for me. I know that. I don't want him back. It's the last thing that I need. We don't work. We tried for long enough. We. Don't. Work. My friends remind me of that any time I have a moment of weakness. But I loved him. And I worry about him. And I still feel like it's my "job" to make sure he's okay. It's not. And he's fine. I'm not saying this was all his fault. He did some pretty unspeakable things. But I allowed it. You teach people how to treat you. And when you allow certain behaviors to continue, of course they aren't going to stop. So it's just as much my fault. I won't go into too much detail about some of the things that he did, because I do (somewhat) respect his privacy. But one thing I did recently discover is that he's still up to his same old tricks. Still calling up the same girls he used to call up when we were together. Any time he has a night "off" from my replacement, he doesn't actually want a night "off" from sex. Part of me was sad when I heard that. Not really sad for his girlfriend because I tried to warn her to an extent. But sad for him. How is he ever going to have a family of his own- a healthy relationship, children- if he doesn't just stop? He knows it's an addiction. "I like to have women I've never had." He used to quote that song all the time. And he wasn't lying. He did. And, truthfully, I accepted that about him. However, it wasn't (and apparently still isn't) just about women he's never had. Not when he's still going back to where he's been. So, yeah, it makes me sad for him. My heart breaks a little for him because I know that there's a part of him that wants that family life. He was good at it. But more than anything- when I found out what a part of me already knew- I felt like I had dodged a bullet.
I don't have to worry any more about where my boyfriend is when he stops texting late at night. I don't have to worry about who else he's texting when I'm not there. I don't have to hear the "I was drunk" or "but I didn't actually do anything" excuses anymore. I was drama. I was crazy. But I'm realizing (thank you, therapy!) that it wasn't me. It wasn't even him. It was that relationship. It was drama. I allowed myself to be cheated on. I allowed him back in too many times, even knowing that I didn't fully forgive him. And that definitely ended in many crazy fights. I don't have that anymore. The drama is gone from my life.
"You aren't over him." That's what he told me. I told him I couldn't lie to him and tell him that I was, but that I would be. He trusted that enough to give it a shot. And with that, I began to let the past go.
I've deleted the pictures from my phone. And I threw out his old sweatshirt. Memories be damned.
Wow. Carrie's poor friends. They're sitting at brunch. They're listening, still, to Carrie talk about how much better off she is without Big. What a mistake he made. Obsessing.
I wouldn't do anything like that.
Not me.
I lie. My poor friends. My poor, poor friends.
Now I don't want to make it seem as though I wake up every morning thinking of the Ex. I don't. I did. For a while. I mean... it hasn't been that long since the last time we were together. Seven weeks. That's it. You can't just "get over" the person you planned to spend the rest of your life with in seven weeks, can you? That was a big reason behind this blog. To get my feelings out and explore other aspects of my sexuality that weren't directly connected to him. And it wasn't even about sex, really. I'm really not the promiscuous type. I just want to feel. I want to be over him. There's a part of me that wanted to jump into a new relationship just because he was already with someone new. I had convinced myself I was ready before I had pulled out of his driveway that last day together. But I wasn't. What good would that do, huh? I mean, I had put extensive thought into it. If I were going to date someone- it had to be an upgrade, right? Not even a lateral move. The next guy had to be far more attractive, more successful, more funny, more intelligent... more better. Okay. So "more better" isn't exactly correct... but you get the point. Then I realized- I wasn't going to see anyone as "more better" as long as I was still in love with him. So- all I could do is wait.
Let me stop right there. He is NOT good for me. I know that. I don't want him back. It's the last thing that I need. We don't work. We tried for long enough. We. Don't. Work. My friends remind me of that any time I have a moment of weakness. But I loved him. And I worry about him. And I still feel like it's my "job" to make sure he's okay. It's not. And he's fine. I'm not saying this was all his fault. He did some pretty unspeakable things. But I allowed it. You teach people how to treat you. And when you allow certain behaviors to continue, of course they aren't going to stop. So it's just as much my fault. I won't go into too much detail about some of the things that he did, because I do (somewhat) respect his privacy. But one thing I did recently discover is that he's still up to his same old tricks. Still calling up the same girls he used to call up when we were together. Any time he has a night "off" from my replacement, he doesn't actually want a night "off" from sex. Part of me was sad when I heard that. Not really sad for his girlfriend because I tried to warn her to an extent. But sad for him. How is he ever going to have a family of his own- a healthy relationship, children- if he doesn't just stop? He knows it's an addiction. "I like to have women I've never had." He used to quote that song all the time. And he wasn't lying. He did. And, truthfully, I accepted that about him. However, it wasn't (and apparently still isn't) just about women he's never had. Not when he's still going back to where he's been. So, yeah, it makes me sad for him. My heart breaks a little for him because I know that there's a part of him that wants that family life. He was good at it. But more than anything- when I found out what a part of me already knew- I felt like I had dodged a bullet.
I don't have to worry any more about where my boyfriend is when he stops texting late at night. I don't have to worry about who else he's texting when I'm not there. I don't have to hear the "I was drunk" or "but I didn't actually do anything" excuses anymore. I was drama. I was crazy. But I'm realizing (thank you, therapy!) that it wasn't me. It wasn't even him. It was that relationship. It was drama. I allowed myself to be cheated on. I allowed him back in too many times, even knowing that I didn't fully forgive him. And that definitely ended in many crazy fights. I don't have that anymore. The drama is gone from my life.
"You aren't over him." That's what he told me. I told him I couldn't lie to him and tell him that I was, but that I would be. He trusted that enough to give it a shot. And with that, I began to let the past go.
I've deleted the pictures from my phone. And I threw out his old sweatshirt. Memories be damned.
Saturday, September 5, 2015
Game On
It's Game Day in the South, ladies and gentlemen. College football around here is a BIG deal. Everyone has a team and we all talk smack about the other teams. And it starts before the season does. In fact, it never really ends. It just intensifies come kick off.
Drive through any southern state and you'll see every college represented by people who have never known a person who attended that school. ((In *my* defense, I am a Florida fan because my almost 5 year old is a Florida fan. He, obviously, has never attended college in Gainesville - even though he plans to. However, the Ex made this little one the fan that he is. The kid will hardly wear anything NOT Orange and Blue. This makes shopping in South Georgia rather difficult... the land of the Georgia Bulldogs))
I'm getting way off track. As I said, it's Game Day and the shortest of the short people and I are heading to The Swamp. Gator Country. God's Country. So if I seem a bit distracted in writing this post, that would be why. I have a little man in a Gator jersey yelling "Two Bits! Four Bits! Six Bits! A Dollar! ALLLLL for the Gators- stand up and Holler!!!" BUT- if I don't get this post written, I have a few readers who have threatened to off my head... (most of them Bulldog fans. Smh.) So here I am. On game day. Writing this blog post.
You're welcome.
I haven't heard from Mr. White. He still hasn't returned from Spain, but he has been on Facebook, so I don't suppose I will hear from him. Does it bother me? Honestly? Yeah. It does. But, truthfully, I think it's only because I have to be wanted. It drives me crazy when a man doesn't want me. I mean, I'm sure there are plenty of men who have zero interest in me. But those are usually men that just don't know me. I don't typically go for men so far out of my league anyway. I think I'm a solid 7, so I can date an 8... even as low as a 5 because looks aren't THAT important when it comes to something long-term. But, when I feel like a man is within the standard 7/8 range on the looks scale and he doesn't care to pursue me- I feel challenged. I have to know why he doesn't try harder and I have to change it. Of course, what usually happens is they DO start trying and I immediately lose interest. I think there's something mis-wired in my brain. Or maybe I have too much "guy brain" going on. I don't know. But I know that if it's made easy for me- I don't want it. So back to the issue at hand. Mr. White has gone MIA. I know he's alive because of Facebook action, so now I don't know whether I should attempt to get his attention, or continue focusing my efforts on my Clooney.
Oh, sweet, sexy Clooney. Wait. Did I just call him sweet? Because I can't think of a conversation that we've had that has been particularly "sweet". But the man does have a way with words. And pictures.
I've told you that he's been out of state, as well, haven't I? He returns very soon. He wants to "watch Netflix and chill". Okay. I'll play along. We can "watch Netflix and chill". I can like that. Although, we don't play coy very long. We had only started texting when the photos started. That body. Dear God, that man has a body on him. Every thing from the curve of his shoulders, the tightness of his abs, those tan lines... that man muscle on either side of his abdomen that points precisely where your eyes would wander anyway (and you ladies know the "man muscle"... it's my favorite muscle on a man). The way he describes precisely what he wants to do to me upon his return rivals my own "sexting" skills.
He's not at all what you would expect from a man with his sexual appetite. He looks so... tame. Maybe those are the ones you have to watch, though. The quiet ones. The intelligent ones. The outdoorsy ones.
The "rest" of him is as perfectly built as what I've already described.
He's coming home.
To watch Netflix.
"And chill"
Ugh. This means I'll have to shave.
Drive through any southern state and you'll see every college represented by people who have never known a person who attended that school. ((In *my* defense, I am a Florida fan because my almost 5 year old is a Florida fan. He, obviously, has never attended college in Gainesville - even though he plans to. However, the Ex made this little one the fan that he is. The kid will hardly wear anything NOT Orange and Blue. This makes shopping in South Georgia rather difficult... the land of the Georgia Bulldogs))
I'm getting way off track. As I said, it's Game Day and the shortest of the short people and I are heading to The Swamp. Gator Country. God's Country. So if I seem a bit distracted in writing this post, that would be why. I have a little man in a Gator jersey yelling "Two Bits! Four Bits! Six Bits! A Dollar! ALLLLL for the Gators- stand up and Holler!!!" BUT- if I don't get this post written, I have a few readers who have threatened to off my head... (most of them Bulldog fans. Smh.) So here I am. On game day. Writing this blog post.
You're welcome.
I haven't heard from Mr. White. He still hasn't returned from Spain, but he has been on Facebook, so I don't suppose I will hear from him. Does it bother me? Honestly? Yeah. It does. But, truthfully, I think it's only because I have to be wanted. It drives me crazy when a man doesn't want me. I mean, I'm sure there are plenty of men who have zero interest in me. But those are usually men that just don't know me. I don't typically go for men so far out of my league anyway. I think I'm a solid 7, so I can date an 8... even as low as a 5 because looks aren't THAT important when it comes to something long-term. But, when I feel like a man is within the standard 7/8 range on the looks scale and he doesn't care to pursue me- I feel challenged. I have to know why he doesn't try harder and I have to change it. Of course, what usually happens is they DO start trying and I immediately lose interest. I think there's something mis-wired in my brain. Or maybe I have too much "guy brain" going on. I don't know. But I know that if it's made easy for me- I don't want it. So back to the issue at hand. Mr. White has gone MIA. I know he's alive because of Facebook action, so now I don't know whether I should attempt to get his attention, or continue focusing my efforts on my Clooney.
Oh, sweet, sexy Clooney. Wait. Did I just call him sweet? Because I can't think of a conversation that we've had that has been particularly "sweet". But the man does have a way with words. And pictures.
I've told you that he's been out of state, as well, haven't I? He returns very soon. He wants to "watch Netflix and chill". Okay. I'll play along. We can "watch Netflix and chill". I can like that. Although, we don't play coy very long. We had only started texting when the photos started. That body. Dear God, that man has a body on him. Every thing from the curve of his shoulders, the tightness of his abs, those tan lines... that man muscle on either side of his abdomen that points precisely where your eyes would wander anyway (and you ladies know the "man muscle"... it's my favorite muscle on a man). The way he describes precisely what he wants to do to me upon his return rivals my own "sexting" skills.
He's not at all what you would expect from a man with his sexual appetite. He looks so... tame. Maybe those are the ones you have to watch, though. The quiet ones. The intelligent ones. The outdoorsy ones.
The "rest" of him is as perfectly built as what I've already described.
He's coming home.
To watch Netflix.
"And chill"
Ugh. This means I'll have to shave.
Friday, September 4, 2015
Dating the Damaged Woman
Dating is complicated. We all know that. I think that's one of the things I hear most from my married friends- "Dear God, I don't feel sorryfor you at all being out there in the dating world." or "You couldn't pay me enough to go through that again." And they're right. There's definitely something to be said for that comfort. Just having your person and knowing that, at the end of the day, he or she will still be there. Snoring. Talking in their sleep. Stealing the covers. Just doing whatever it is that they do. I miss that. I miss falling asleep with the man that I love with the knowledge and security that I would get to wake up the next morning and do it all over again. That's a great feeling. However, I don't just want someone to take up half of my bed. I need more than that... and sometimes I need less than that.
See- here's the thing about dating women who have been previously broken ("damaged", if you will): we're easy to love but hard to keep.
It's easy to look at this girl and think "I can help her to get over him. I can help her to move on and repair the hurt." And that's nice. It really is. And it's not that we don't appreciate the sentiment (we really do!), we just know that it isn't that easy. We start every new "flirtation" (for lack of a better word) thinking "maybe this could be something", knowing in our hearts that it likely can't be. You're not him.
In a lot of ways it's a good thing that you're not him. He broke her. She gave him everything she had. Even when she should have walked away, time and time again she forgave him. Put her heart on the line. Tried to move forward. And each time she was shown that it didn't matter what she did- she wouldn't be good enough. WAS she good enough? Of course she was. And deep down she knew that. She still knows that. But she was told that she wasn't. She was made to feel over and over again like it was her fault. Whatever names he called her... All of the other women he slept with or talked to... Every time he put his hands on her... It was somehow her fault. Of course, the next morning it was always another story. The "I love you"s and "I'm sorry"s came so easily followed by the "It will never happen again"s. So eventually she learned to stop trusting.
It's not your fault. You have to know that. She knows that. But she had to learn to be strong. She wasn't given a choice. Maybe she has children that she had to keep going for. Or maybe it was only for her own survival. But she had to toughen up. The walls start to feel impenetrable. She gets into a routine. She says that she doesn't care. That she doesn't want a relationship. Then you come along and she starts to feel some semblance of hope again. She tells herself that it might be worth it to let her guard down. Maybe she can love someone again. Then it gets too real.
You didn't mean to do it. You weren't trying to push her away. You were only doing what you thought was right. And it probably was... for pretty much any other girl. But this girl is different. She still hurts. She's not okay. She makes it, but she's still not "whole". She is deathly afraid to allow someone else to fill a void in her life. She's been there. The pain is still too fresh. She still thinks about him. Still dreams about him from time to time. Their songs still play on the radio. She can't escape it. She WANTS to move on. She really does. But she's had to learn how to do this on her own. The waking up alone, getting ready for work, paying the bills, feeding the kids, getting them to school on time... life. She's gotten into a routine. She still craves that... something. But where will she fit it in? She thought she could. Dropped the baby off with a sitter. Let you take her out for a few hours. Laughed like she hadn't laughed in a long time.
She wasn't faking it. She really does like you. As cliche as it sounds- it's not you. It's her.
You can't date a damaged woman the same way you would date another. Her life is her own and she can't handle any more complications. She wants to see you. She just can't see you every day. You can't talk about things like "forever" with her. She'll like it at first because it shows that you aren't afraid of commitment... but she's heard it all before. Eventually the words all run together and it becomes just another song and dance that she knows all too well. She's been promised forever before. And right now her "forever" is waking up next to another woman. She can't trust it. It's not that she can't trust you. But her trust has to be earned. She gave it away so freely before. "I'll trust him until he gives me a reason not to"... it's not like that anymore. She has to protect herself. So, no- she doesn't trust you.
She doesn't want to hear pretty words. She's heard them all before. She needs actions. And not even grand gestures like gifts and flowers. Granted, those are nice and a little spoiling is sweet... but she needs bigger things. Like consistency. Just do what you say you'll do whether it's something large or small- be consistent. No empty promises. Goodnight texts are just as important as Good morning texts. We're suspicious- us damaged women. If you drop off around 9pm without saying goodnight, you're with someone else. You probably aren't. But history tells us otherwise. Give her space. Be there, but be gone. Does that make sense? No? Well get used to it because the damaged woman is much like a walking contradiction. Girl: I just want someone to hang out and watch netflix with me Guy: I'll be over in 20 minutes. Girl to best friend: Oh my gosh... he's seriously on his way. Stage 5 Clinger
We know we make no sense. We accept that. Believe me, it's as frustrating for her as it is for you.
If you saw her on Friday night, do NOT try to see her on Saturday night. Probably not even Sunday. Maybe Wednesday would be good. Ask HER when works for her. Let her know you're interested without smothering her. You can't forget- she has her own life and routine and is determined to never NEED a man again. It took her too long to get to where she is and she's so afraid of backtracking. Again- it's not you. And you shouldn't be afraid of her. If anything, this should make you happy. She doesn't NEED you. If she chooses to spend time with you, it's because she WANTS to. Think about it. She doesn't need your money. She pays her own bills. Takes care of her own child. Maintains her own life. She wants to be an asset, not a liability. Any man would be lucky to have her. And maybe you could be that man, but you can't try too hard. When things start to seem "real", the damaged girl gets scared. Be patient. She thinks she wants forever, but she's still so
scared of it.
Be patient with her. Don't rush. Be honest. Be consistent. Understand that it isn't personal. Her heart is still trying to heal and once it's mended, it will be stronger than ever. You just have to wait for it. And she's a girl worth waiting for.
See- here's the thing about dating women who have been previously broken ("damaged", if you will): we're easy to love but hard to keep.
It's easy to look at this girl and think "I can help her to get over him. I can help her to move on and repair the hurt." And that's nice. It really is. And it's not that we don't appreciate the sentiment (we really do!), we just know that it isn't that easy. We start every new "flirtation" (for lack of a better word) thinking "maybe this could be something", knowing in our hearts that it likely can't be. You're not him.
In a lot of ways it's a good thing that you're not him. He broke her. She gave him everything she had. Even when she should have walked away, time and time again she forgave him. Put her heart on the line. Tried to move forward. And each time she was shown that it didn't matter what she did- she wouldn't be good enough. WAS she good enough? Of course she was. And deep down she knew that. She still knows that. But she was told that she wasn't. She was made to feel over and over again like it was her fault. Whatever names he called her... All of the other women he slept with or talked to... Every time he put his hands on her... It was somehow her fault. Of course, the next morning it was always another story. The "I love you"s and "I'm sorry"s came so easily followed by the "It will never happen again"s. So eventually she learned to stop trusting.
It's not your fault. You have to know that. She knows that. But she had to learn to be strong. She wasn't given a choice. Maybe she has children that she had to keep going for. Or maybe it was only for her own survival. But she had to toughen up. The walls start to feel impenetrable. She gets into a routine. She says that she doesn't care. That she doesn't want a relationship. Then you come along and she starts to feel some semblance of hope again. She tells herself that it might be worth it to let her guard down. Maybe she can love someone again. Then it gets too real.
You didn't mean to do it. You weren't trying to push her away. You were only doing what you thought was right. And it probably was... for pretty much any other girl. But this girl is different. She still hurts. She's not okay. She makes it, but she's still not "whole". She is deathly afraid to allow someone else to fill a void in her life. She's been there. The pain is still too fresh. She still thinks about him. Still dreams about him from time to time. Their songs still play on the radio. She can't escape it. She WANTS to move on. She really does. But she's had to learn how to do this on her own. The waking up alone, getting ready for work, paying the bills, feeding the kids, getting them to school on time... life. She's gotten into a routine. She still craves that... something. But where will she fit it in? She thought she could. Dropped the baby off with a sitter. Let you take her out for a few hours. Laughed like she hadn't laughed in a long time.
She wasn't faking it. She really does like you. As cliche as it sounds- it's not you. It's her.
You can't date a damaged woman the same way you would date another. Her life is her own and she can't handle any more complications. She wants to see you. She just can't see you every day. You can't talk about things like "forever" with her. She'll like it at first because it shows that you aren't afraid of commitment... but she's heard it all before. Eventually the words all run together and it becomes just another song and dance that she knows all too well. She's been promised forever before. And right now her "forever" is waking up next to another woman. She can't trust it. It's not that she can't trust you. But her trust has to be earned. She gave it away so freely before. "I'll trust him until he gives me a reason not to"... it's not like that anymore. She has to protect herself. So, no- she doesn't trust you.
She doesn't want to hear pretty words. She's heard them all before. She needs actions. And not even grand gestures like gifts and flowers. Granted, those are nice and a little spoiling is sweet... but she needs bigger things. Like consistency. Just do what you say you'll do whether it's something large or small- be consistent. No empty promises. Goodnight texts are just as important as Good morning texts. We're suspicious- us damaged women. If you drop off around 9pm without saying goodnight, you're with someone else. You probably aren't. But history tells us otherwise. Give her space. Be there, but be gone. Does that make sense? No? Well get used to it because the damaged woman is much like a walking contradiction. Girl: I just want someone to hang out and watch netflix with me Guy: I'll be over in 20 minutes. Girl to best friend: Oh my gosh... he's seriously on his way. Stage 5 Clinger
We know we make no sense. We accept that. Believe me, it's as frustrating for her as it is for you.
If you saw her on Friday night, do NOT try to see her on Saturday night. Probably not even Sunday. Maybe Wednesday would be good. Ask HER when works for her. Let her know you're interested without smothering her. You can't forget- she has her own life and routine and is determined to never NEED a man again. It took her too long to get to where she is and she's so afraid of backtracking. Again- it's not you. And you shouldn't be afraid of her. If anything, this should make you happy. She doesn't NEED you. If she chooses to spend time with you, it's because she WANTS to. Think about it. She doesn't need your money. She pays her own bills. Takes care of her own child. Maintains her own life. She wants to be an asset, not a liability. Any man would be lucky to have her. And maybe you could be that man, but you can't try too hard. When things start to seem "real", the damaged girl gets scared. Be patient. She thinks she wants forever, but she's still so
scared of it.
Be patient with her. Don't rush. Be honest. Be consistent. Understand that it isn't personal. Her heart is still trying to heal and once it's mended, it will be stronger than ever. You just have to wait for it. And she's a girl worth waiting for.
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