Things Are Getting Better

The fog is finally beginning to lift.

I’ve had a few friends talk to me; help me not internalize this situation quite so much.

I just don’t understand why I want someone that doesn’t want me? That’s just crazy, I cause myself more pain than is necessary… I feel like a masochist sometimes.

But in my last communication with him, he said something that really hurt me… maybe I didn’t know him as well as I thought, he obviously didn’t care about me.  Maybe I was just trying to make the relationship in to what I wanted it to be, but something that it could never be.

I do KNOW this; he liked it when he was with me. 

Did that scare him? 

Was I fun but just not loveable?  

Perhaps I will never know and I just have to accept that.

I was as good as I knew how to be, I did nothing to hurt him, just like I promised that I wouldn’t, and he was the one who hurt me… if that wasn’t good enough, there’s not much I can do about it. 

I was me, and I’m not for everyone.

Does it still sting?? Fuck yes it does.

Do I still feel shitty about myself?? Fuck yes I do.

Do I wonder if I’ll ever be good enough? Every moment of every day.

But a friend said this to me “You are sexy, it is your superpower, use it for good.”

I can’t say that I concur, but it felt good to hear it, from someone that didn’t have to say anything.

I’ve been asked out a few times, I haven’t accepted yet… but I am taking a road trip to Jersey with a friend next week… kind of an up and back thing, but it will be good just to get away… and I love a road trip J.

Half a smile is better than none, right???

Wandering Through the Black Fog

I participated in a wedding Friday evening… the only people present were; the couple, my friend Boom who was the minister and myself.  According to the couple, NO ONE knew they were getting married.  Interesting.  I wondered whose parents were not okay with it.

And, they totally poo-pooed getting wedding presents.  The ONLY reason I’d marry again would be for wedding presents… I REALLY need some new towels.

I acted as both the photographer and the witness at the wedding, and the minister-in-training.

After the wedding, I went home, went to bed and stayed there for >36hrs.

I told everyone that it was my allergies… but it wasn’t.

Sometimes the black fog swallows me whole, dragging me into a pit so deep that I wonder if this will be the time that I’m not able to pull myself out.

 

That sounds really dramatic, doesn’t it?  But I can really think of no other words to describe it… and I own a super thesaurus.

I pulled my ass out of bed on Sunday morning because we were going zip lining for my Dad’s birthday and I had to make the long trek back home.  I took the camera and made a few stops on the way, which did make me feel a little better.  Here’s an example of what I captured (http://reflectionsuponmyreality2.wordpress.com/2013/09/23/the-porny-house/).

I did have a friend, a reader of this blog, tell me that I’m too hard on myself “you have so much to offer – guy needs his head examined.”

I want to believe that sooooooo badly, that it’s not me, that I’m wanted, desirable, needed.  Yet, the loneliness overshadows the possibility of those beliefs.  I am the common denominator here… only me.

I know, I hear the tiny violins playing too…

Introverted Extroversion...

I’ve taken multiple personality tests over the last few years, in an attempt to understand myself and possibly what I need.

I’ve gotten a variety of results that basically say that I’m different variations of an extrovert (and obviously a little schizo).

According to Myers-Briggs, I’m an ENFP, which I’ve previously mentioned, which basically says that I’m an extrovert that relies mostly on intuition, feelings and perception.

 

I think that’s, mostly, an accurate assessment.  However, I don’t think that I’m always an extrovert.

Maybe it’s because I’m an only child and I learned to live with my own company, enjoy solitude, entertain myself, etc…

 

Sometimes I like being out with a crowd, I have a pretty large circle of friends and acquaintances, however, I am not a go-out-every-night kind of girl.  But, when I’m out, I’m OUT and I have a good time.

 

Sometimes I enjoy the peacefulness of being alone, it can be recharging.  This weekend, other than a wedding I attended, I barely spoke to another soul, aside from the cats (please don’t draw any conclusions from that).

 

Okay, now to what I wanted to discuss…

 

I am dating an introvert.  And I like dating him.  Sometimes I feel a little frustrated at the limited time that we have to spend together, because we work opposite shifts and probably because my limited extrovertedness is probably exhausting to him.

 

I am learning to slow my roll.  It isn’t easy for me.  I like to show people that I care about them; I like to make things better when I can… and this isn’t what he needs. 

 

When he was sick, it was my immediate instinct to make soup and take him things to make him feel better.  This was not what he wanted; this wasn’t how he deals with being ill… he prefers to do it alone.

 

For a little bit it stung… I was being pushed away, I wasn’t wanted… which can, in my mind, translate to “you’re not good enough”.  Which I realize is MY issue, not his and I can’t project it on him.  I may have had a moment of passive aggression, which I quickly recognized (he did too).

 

So… I’ve read several articles on “dating an introvert” and they make a lot of sense.  Basically, it’s just recognizing his needs, which are different from mine.  So we both will need to be patient with other.

 

I think he could be worth the patience… I mean I haven’t run yet… which is completely out of character for me.

Please Pass the Bourbon

Sigh…

At my last posting I confessed to being smitten.  According to Webster’s, one of the definitions of smitten is “To be struck with a firm blow”.

I couldn’t have been more accurate with using a term than I was with using smitten.

Today, I was struck with a firm blow, unexpectedly, squarely in the gut.

I was dismissed.

I can’t really say “dumped” since there was no relationship declaration.  But I feel DUMPED.

Crying at work is sooooooo not cool. 

I won’t detail his reasons here, out of respect for him, his reasons are his own and from what he said it wasn’t about me (unless that was just to spare my feelings).  I actually understand the reasons that he gave me; it’s someplace that I’ve been before.

Maybe my stupid enthusiasm had something to do with it… in fact, I’m sure that it did.  I wear my heart on my sleeve sometimes, and when I think something or have an idea, I have to share it, that’s just how I roll…  maybe I need to change some more things about me???

Do I think that he’s being rash? Do I think that he’s fucking up?

HELL YES I DO.

But, it’s not my decision… I can only live with it.

I guess I’m upset that I let myself feel a connection with someone and have some hope that it could possibly turn into something.  That’s not my usual MO.  But, I did feel a connection with him; I saw something very special in him that I haven’t seen in many before.

I’m not mad, but my feelings are hurt, I have that pain that a person gets deep inside their chest, maybe that’s where my soul is??

Now what do I do this weekend?  I took a vacation day on Friday because we were gonna take a day trip. I was so looking forward to it.

I guess I could go alone, but that doesn’t sound like too much fun to me…

I think I’ll just get drunk.

Accenting the Obvious

Accents…

Admit it, you either like them or you hate them.

Most people begin to immediately make assumptions about a person as soon as they hear a voice that doesn’t sound like their own.

Whether the assumptions carry any weight or not, that’s just how our minds seem to work.

You know that when you hear a southern, a New York, a Boston, a British, an Indian accent you already think that you know something about the person.  A little slow perhaps? Snooty? Sophisticated?

I’ll admit I’ve been a little swayed by a lovely accent before; I’ve dated Irish, British and Italian men.  But underneath the soliloquy, they’re just dudes.  We all know that there are assholes in every nationality.

These makes me think of a guy I once met on a dating site.  We started out texting, which is how I prefer things to go, then, late one night, he called me.

“Wow, you have an accent!”  Was his initial comment.

“Yea, I know, I’m not a Cincinnati native.”  I reply, thinking it will be the end of the discussion about my accent.  Which, by the way, isn’t a bad accent at all.  And the longer I live here, the slighter it becomes.

But… it went on and on…

“From looking at you, I’d never guess you had a country accent!”

Sheesh…

I may not look like a country girl, but, underneath all this ink… I am one.

I’ve always thought that I sounded like a hick and even as my accent becomes slighter, there are words that I know I’ll never be able to say “right”.  But that’s ok, that’s part of my charm.

Anyway, he kept going on and on about my accent, even trying to mimic it (or mock, I’m not sure).  I began to feel a little offended.  Don’t get me wrong, I don’t have a chip on my shoulder, and I can accept some good natured teasing, but for fuck’s sake, he wouldn’t let it go.

I was sooooooo relieved when he got another call that he had to take.

Now, he could have been a perfectly nice guy who was a little nervous, not a good conversationalist or just a total dunce, I don’t know.

I have to put him in the same category as the guy who said I looked like a really cute cartoon character. 

Oh yea, before I forget to mention it, TrippyBeth is smitten.

I know, look out and batten down the hatches!!

I don’t know if it will go anywhere, not sure if he’s smitten or not, all I know, right now, is that I like spending time with him…

Oh, don't forget to check out my photo blog if you get the chance!!

http://reflectionsuponmyreality2.wordpress.com/

Tattooed Dating

I have been back out in the dating world for about 3 years now.  When I began this dating journey, I had 2 small tattoos.

Now I am up to 12 tattoos.  Tattoos on my wrists that are visible all of the time, tattoos on my foot, arms, shoulders and back that are visible depending on how I dress.

I am still the same girl I was, for the most part, when I only had 2 tattoos.  But in the online dating world, my tattoos give some men ideas about me that may not be accurate.

I can’t tell you how many emails start out like this “I love your tats!” I try not to read over those messages too quickly, or I could mistake “tats” for something else.  But sadly, I have gotten many emails that were more blatantly suggestive than complementing a body part.

One gentleman (I use this term in jest) sent me an email saying this “I want to fuck you”.  Usually when I get this sort of email, I delete it and move on with my life.  But before I hit the delete button, I decided to write back.  Usually, writing back to guys like this is a bad idea.  It makes them think that you are interested, but just acting coy.  But I had a question for this fellow that I just had to ask.

“Does this ever work?”

He promptly wrote back “Sometimes it does.”

I ended the correspondence at the point.  But I had to think that this guy was using the shot gun method for hooking up.  I wondered how many girls he had emailed with the “I want to fuck you” line?? All it would take is for one to say “Ok” and all of the “Nos” and deleted messages would be worth it.

I no longer felt special.

In my online profile, I have several photos that my tattoos are prominent in.  They are a big part of who I am.  If you want me, you must accept my tattoos.

I received an email from a man saying that he thought I was cute, that he thought we’d be a good match, but would I consider having my tattoos removed?

WTF????  I found that as offensive as him asking me if I’d have a nose job.  I wrote him back this line “I am not your girl.”

I get other messages like this “I love your tattoos; you look like a wild child.”  Of course this idea harkens to the stereotypes that still exist about people with tattoos.  All you have to do is Google “tattoos and risky behavior” and one would believe that people with tattoos are out there boozing, druggin and screwin everything in sight.

Some people with tattoos do participate in extreme behaviors, but so do non-tattooed people.  Most of the people I’ve known in my life that had problems with drugs or alcohol weren’t tattooed.

While I love my tattoos, I haven’t really dated many men that were tattooed.  It’s not a prerequisite for my men at all.  I am tattooed, but I don’t care if you are or not.  It’s a personal choice, which I would never try to influence.  Now, if you’ve decided that you want a tattoo, I will definitely help you find a good artist.

I get a lot of emails from guys, basically apologizing for not having any tattoos.  Which seems too needy for me, I just say that tattoos are not for everyone, I don’t judge based on your lack of ink, just as you shouldn’t judge me for the ink I possess.

I had one guy, which I formerly dated; say after reading my blog “I don’t see anything wrong with a man with no tattoos.”

I replied that I don’t see anything wrong with a man who has no tattoos either, ink or lack of ink doesn’t define a person.

I am much more than my tattoos.  This blog only represents a portion of who I am.

Well….. I must be off! I have mail!!!