Remember when I told you about my mom's high school boyfriend contacted her out of the blue?
Well, apparently they've been talking. A lot. For the past six weeks. You guys, this is HUGE. After my parents' divorce, my mom swore off men for life. And now she's actually kind of excited about a guy? I can't help but feel a little giddy inside.
Of course, she throws in the self-protective statements like, "I know it won't go anywhere" and "I'll never move back to Alabama," but underneath that I can tell she is really enjoying this reconnection. So, I'm just trying to be supportive, listen well, and encourage her to keep the conversation going.
It's strange--when a friend starts talking about a crush, I sometimes check out because I'm still getting over the relative newness (or the acceptance of) my singleness. But the fact that it's my mom, someone who swore she'd never talk to another man, who never thought she could be pursued by someone, who never thought she'd be open to those feelings--it gives me a lot of hope.
I have experimented with dating again. I thought I was ready. I'm not sure I am just yet. I told my therapist that I pretty much get a sick feeling right before all of my dates; I have this deep sense of not wanting to go through with it. She said, "Sweetie, then why are you doing it?"
I'm doing it because I feel like in order to get what I want, I have to try really, really hard--balls to the wall hard. And if I don't date now, I'm never going to get what I want (hello, inner critic with your unhelpful superlative talk). But, if dating is making me unhappy, then why would I do it?
So, knowing that my mom has just been going about her life as a content single woman and she's found connection again--it just gives me hope. It makes me feel ok about focusing on other things. And, it makes me incredibly happy for the woman who's given so much love to me to be on the receiving end for a change.
She's on Lent
"No, man. She's on Lent," he said.
The guy with the shot of tequila in his hand looked at me with a look of horror, puzzlement, and drunkenness. Apparently I was "on" Lent. Like... "on my period." Frankly I think stating the latter would have horrified the guy less than saying I'd voluntarily given up alcohol for 40 days (actually--with Sundays, it's like 46 days).
Not drinking has been an adjustment, especially in social settings. Especially in awkward social settings. Most especially on first dates like last night.
In retrospect, I never should have agreed to go to the bar and meet up with his friends. We'd had a nice dinner and for a first date, it was actually pretty relaxed even without the customary glass of wine. But, I wish it had ended there instead of at the crowded bar with everyone else in a drunken stupor and me completely sober. It wasn't just that though--he'd told me we were going to the Carlyle, so I'd gotten dressed up in a cute LBD and high heets to boot. It wasn't exactly bar hoppin' attire.
I sucked down my Coca-Cola, danced for awhile, watched the Georgetown game, but by about midnight, my feet were aching and I was ready to go home. Even though he'd driven me, I offered to take a cab home. I could tell he wanted to stay, and he didn't insist on driving me home, which was probably a good thing because he'd been drinking quite a bit. No cash on hand, I was going to look for an ATM when he handed me a $20, which I almost refused but decided to take.
I hopped in the cab, he said he'd call me, and off I went. A few minutes after I got home, he texted to see if I'd gotten home ok. "Yep, thanks! Enjoy the rest of your night."
He texted back, "Can I enjoy it with you? :-)" But I'd already fallen asleep, fortunately.
The guy with the shot of tequila in his hand looked at me with a look of horror, puzzlement, and drunkenness. Apparently I was "on" Lent. Like... "on my period." Frankly I think stating the latter would have horrified the guy less than saying I'd voluntarily given up alcohol for 40 days (actually--with Sundays, it's like 46 days).
Not drinking has been an adjustment, especially in social settings. Especially in awkward social settings. Most especially on first dates like last night.
In retrospect, I never should have agreed to go to the bar and meet up with his friends. We'd had a nice dinner and for a first date, it was actually pretty relaxed even without the customary glass of wine. But, I wish it had ended there instead of at the crowded bar with everyone else in a drunken stupor and me completely sober. It wasn't just that though--he'd told me we were going to the Carlyle, so I'd gotten dressed up in a cute LBD and high heets to boot. It wasn't exactly bar hoppin' attire.
I sucked down my Coca-Cola, danced for awhile, watched the Georgetown game, but by about midnight, my feet were aching and I was ready to go home. Even though he'd driven me, I offered to take a cab home. I could tell he wanted to stay, and he didn't insist on driving me home, which was probably a good thing because he'd been drinking quite a bit. No cash on hand, I was going to look for an ATM when he handed me a $20, which I almost refused but decided to take.
I hopped in the cab, he said he'd call me, and off I went. A few minutes after I got home, he texted to see if I'd gotten home ok. "Yep, thanks! Enjoy the rest of your night."
He texted back, "Can I enjoy it with you? :-)" But I'd already fallen asleep, fortunately.
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