I Surrender

So I gave myself the space the think. After Thursdays date which I’m now glad nothing much other than a drink and a goodnight kiss happened, I’ve decided that guy wasn’t for me, and guess what, rather than keeping him hanging, I’ve told him already. I’m not waiting for the one who makes me forget to come back either. If he does, we’ll see. If he doesn’t his loss.

I kinda think that after everything that’s happened it’s time to give it a rest. Time to stop worrying about finding the right person because when I do it’s either a guy who I like but he’s too immature to tell me straight what he wants, or plays games, or it’s a guy who’s just so lonely and desperate that he starts to get stalky and I don’t want either of these things.

I kind of wonder if this is the loneliness that is a strong woman’s lot. You meet a guy on a dating app, he’s either bigged himself up because he’s insecure, or hidden everything about himself because he’s insecure too. You’re downright honest and upfront, you tell him about yourself, and he either thinks, “well I can’t compete” or “I’ll have a damned good go”.

The guys on Elite Dating, well they are in no way elite, they’re on every other dating app too.

This is the thing, it’s the same shit, different app. Perhaps actually you can meet someone organically. So that’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to really leave it to the universe and not technology. I don’t want these experiences to make me cynical but it’s starting to happen so it’s time to stop.

Perhaps I’m just too lazy in my old age. Perhaps more it’s just I’m too old for this shit! If there’s gonna be a guy he’ll have his shit together and will damned well tell me!

Tomorrow is my birthday and I turn 38! Scary isn’t it? Getting older can make you feel really insecure. I know that single guys without kids are looking to have them, and sometimes I think it’s my age that puts them off. ‘The one’ split up with me for that reason once, it hurt so much. He was the person I was willing to put my body through that again for, but he didn’t want to put me through it. There’s nothing like being told you’re perfect but you’re too old. The dumb thing is I’m probably biologically younger than most of the girls he’s dated because I take the time to look after myself. I wear sunscreen every day, I drink lots of water, I eat right. The turns you’ve had around the sun really don’t mean all that much.

I’m still undecided about whether I’d have children again. It’s not a burning desire right now, and the idea of putting another first for another 18 years after I’ve already done that since I was young is a decision I’d really have to consider, but with the right guy I would. Perhaps the one who made me forget who was clearly going to make a good dad one day had decided that I wouldn’t and that was his problem, perhaps we’ll just never know.

Perhaps the fact I already have a teenage daughter put him off. Some men assume that responsibility will fall on them and they don’t want that, when it’s not even what me or my daughter want either.

So I sent him one last text, I kinda know in my heart he’ll never reply. It was a bit of a long one along the gist of I’m sorry, I wish him well, I’m confused what happened, I hope he’s okay. Too needy, probably. I have no idea how to play these games so I just don’t play them. I loose when I do so I just don’t contend.

Perhaps that’s half the issue, everyone else is playing games too. So when you meet a guy and you don’t play games, because the last one did, he has no idea whether you’re telling the truth or not. The last one ruins it for the new one and it’s a vicious circle.

I went out with a friend last night who is becoming a good friend. He’s had similar problems and also kinda gave up. It’s really just sad that you get to the point where you feel that way. Your bright blue butterflies turn into drab brown moths because you’re expecting the worst and so attract that instead.

So I hold my hands up! I quit! I’m waving the white flag of surrender! I’m not looking for a one night stand, I don’t think I ever really was, boredom and my insecurities led me down that path a few times in the past. Sometimes you do that because you feel the need to prove you’ve still got it, sad really. The guys who send dick pics can really all fuck off. What leads a man the think that’s acceptable? I don’t know? You’re talking and then… oh there it is… yes we’ve all played at sexting and sometimes it’s fun, but when you make out you want something different and then change the tune so suddenly it’s just down right creepy.

Time to take some alone time, time to concentrate on home, ramp up my career further and stop procrastinating.

Being a lonely queen is better than being lumbered with the court jester for eternal company…

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Fit not skinny

So I joined a new gym almost a month ago. The workouts are gruelling. Having been a gym goer for a long time, trying diet after diet, workouts, the latest miracle cure for my mummy tummy I’ve visualised my flat tummy and always fallen just that little bit short of my image of perfect.

This one is different in that it’s incredibly simple. You hardly do weights, most of what you’re doing is using your body weight. It’s similar to Cross Fit I guess but don’t worry, I won’t be becoming one of those Crossfit bores.

You spend about half of the time being harnessed up in this parachute style harness but with bungee chords attached to the wall behind you and then you carry out a gruelling session of interval style training with your trainer shouting (that’s the important part) to go faster, push yourself etc. I used to do Insanity, T25 and had tried P90x in my house but you can slack when the guy training you is on a video and can’t react to your exhausted looks and make you do just one more of the whatever horrible thing you’re doing today.

I’m almost at the end of my first four weeks and I feel fitter not only physically, but also mentally. I’m noticing changes in my clothes fitting better, my mummy tummy is definitely getting flatter and there’s finally definition in my chunky calfs that no amount of horseriding can change.

Having come though some minor eating disorders over the years all brought on by not feeling good enough, laxatives being my go to terrible choice, this is making me stop and thing about what I do to fuel my body and what I do to stay slim. The idea of weight loss formed at an early age. My mother would often carry out fad after hopeless fad and I would observe and copy. Skipping breakfast, only eating cereal the usual stuff from the time I grew up, slim fast, the true miracle cure that is purely starvation.

My use of laxatives over the years has probably caused some damage, as I think about the imbalances of flora in my digestive system and things that I find I have struggled to digest. Lately with a healthier approach to food and plenty of probiotics I’m starting to regain the health I should have had.

Weight loss for me was a huge obsession over the years as my body grew from that of a slightly curvy but slim teen to a woman and then a mother. I’ve never been bigger than a size 12 but still I’ve always had a problem with “feeling Fat”. The silly thing is when I look back, I really wasn’t, but the jeers of “Fat bum” when I was in my teens from my peers after my dad had called me that across from his car unwittingly (because men are dumb) caused the feeling of being fat to spiral out of control. Being told by my mother aged only 17 that she hated my skirt because it made me look pregnant still sticks today although hypnotherapy to help me replay those moments has helped me to come to terms with the feelings those thoughtless words have caused.

I used to hate PE, I just wasn’t sporty in spite of the fact I had been on the swimming team till puberty fully hit.

I used to go all day without eating, it became an easy habit, especially when I was really poor eating only a small helping of food sometimes only once a day. I went through the typical bingeing then purging during my years at uni, eating an entire cake and then throwing it back up whenever I felt unworthy. I’m not 100% sure why I did this, I hate being sick, but the comfort of the huge amount of sugar followed by the guilt and the fear of getting bigger would make me feel that I really had to do it.

Joining the gym was a good distraction from the need to starve at first but dangerously a few years back I realised the weightloss could be even better if I starved as well. I would feel like death but the compulsion to keep it up living sometimes off only diet drinks and bananas and the feeling of “you have to keep this up” would help me push through.

I tried weight loss tablets, dangerously messing with Thyroxine purchased from the internet, it worked but made me jittery and unable to concentrate. This is the first time I have ever admitted that I have done such stupid things just to be skinny.

When I split with my ex initially I dropped weight from not eating. But with therapy and time and exercise I got better, trained harder and now eat the best I ever have. I’m finally at a point where I can do a decent press-up, I’m not far from doing pull-ups, with all the hard work I’ve been doing and the strength I’m actually building from eating a decent amount of protein and using my own body weight as resistance.

I probably eat more now than I ever have, yet my clothes fit better, my arms are starting to look defined and I can see the muscle forming under the layer of fat on my mummy tummy. Perhaps it’s now that I live by my own rules for the first time ever in my life that I have no need to starve to be skinny. I’ve never been sure if being skinny was everything that it was about. I know that some of it was about being able to control something when I had no control over anything else, not even my thoughts.

For the first time ever I’ve begun to feel confident in myself having finally realised that actually there is no such thing as the perfect figure. It pains me to think of the time I’ve wasted on trying to match up to airbrushed pictures, images in my head of how I should look and spent my time hating the image I saw in the mirror.

Today I can live with the slight wobble of my tummy, the lack of thigh gap, the imperfect pins. I realise that there’s stuff we all hate about ourselves that actually makes us unique. Instead I’m building on what I’ve got. My transformation this time will be slow and less dramatic but I’ll be happier for it. I’ll be healthier too. I’m already feeling the benefits of eating relatively clean… and the three times a week of gruelling training with my new gym comrades who feel the pain with me.

Perhaps that was what I needed all along. Life is too short to worry about being the next Victoria Secrets Angel, or as pretty as the airbrushed model on the ad for the latest brand of makeup. I’m glad I’ve finally realised it’s absolutely fine to not be perfect. The scars on my arms are no longer shameful, the stretch marks show the signs of my life as I’ve become a mummy, the freckles the time I’ve been outside enjoying the sun, the smile lines are bigger than the frown lines because I’m always smiling and that’s something to be proud of.

Ignore the scales, they mean absolutely nothing, ignore that dress size it just doesn’t matter. When you are comfortable with who you are and learn to love the bits you hate, you start to feel better and then if you want you can build on the foundations. Because we were all born beautiful, we were all born to be the best that we can. Your dress size means nothing. And let’s face it nobody wants to be on standby for the loo just because we want to loose that extra few pounds! It’s not worth the jittery feelings from the untested drugs or the raspberry ketones, or the lack of sugar because you’ve staved all day! It makes me sad that we have to see the body positive initiatives from brands like Dove when every brand should be marketing to the people who buy their products rather than giving us false ideals we can never attain. The day I stopped weighing myself or worrying about my dress size was the step in the right direction I should have taken years ago. I will probably read this back to myself when ever I feel tempted to starve to be skinny. It’s not worth the pain, and it doesn’t make you pretty, and it’s so very true, I have not yet met a man who wants me to get ultra skinny, my curves make me a woman, and men want women and women have curves.

Positive power

As a girl who always cuts herself down today I’ve started to try and be positive. I always believed second best was all I was really good for, I didn’t want to be second best it was just my way of protecting myself from the disappointment of being let down. Perhaps the crashing disappointment in myself for yet again not being good enough. Today I’m faking it to get to making it.

I overthink, that’s why I’m here, but writing this down stops me bursting after dwelling for such a long time. Sometimes the spoken word is too hard to speak, but the written word can be considered, formed, edited until the real self is realeased. Words spoken in angst never really relay the true feelings behind it but the writing can make the meaning that you didn’t quite know yourself come out.

Today I’m trying being thankful for whatever has come to pass and whatever is coming my way. My faith has never been in gods to carry me through, I carry myself through the path that the universe opens up for me little by little. Sometimes I don’t know where that path goes so I think of where I want it to go and it opens up that way.

In the past feeling second best made my path open up to reveal second best was my lot. Scared of getting hurt, abandoned you push away the good because losing it would hurt so you never get the good to heal the hurt and battered and bruised your heart carries on guarded, like the marathon runner with the sprained ankle trying to finish but no personal best.

Today will start my days of personal bests. The best I can be, my competition is me, my Yesterday self to push her forward to my better self. When I forget what the others do, I stop caring about comparing myself. Our downfall is always in comparing ourselves and betraying ourselves for not being as good, but we forget our background, our journey is different from theirs. Nobody tells you about the pain in getting there, they just tell you when they got there. That was the part none of the guys I’ve dated so far could understand. When other people hit a life event for some reason guys get insecure and either try to force that life even on you or run away because they don’t believe in their ability to get there.

My life is not about jumping through hoops anymore, it’s about following my heart, if the hoops are in my path I’ll jump for them but if not I can walk away. like when you play a computer game and have to collect the coins or gold hoops, I’m not Sonic the Hedgehog anymore. Because we need to stay focused on the end point the path, what we want to get to, collect the hoops on the way, ignore the ones that lead you down a well. It will be okay, it is okay have faith in yourself because you can do whatever you want when you decide it’s right for you.

Memes we can relate to

Why have I got to have a billion emotions everyday?

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When you see a read receipt then they go offline…

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Me getting my heart broken over and over again

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How I feel all the time, either I never see him or I miss him because it’s over

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I just don’t get this dating game at all!?! Exclusive but not his girlfriend, together but not public

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When you just can’t get the stupid man out of your head but you’re so happy when you get to see him

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Why do I always break these rules?!?

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Hold your head up girl, never beg a man to be with you, if he’s leaving, he really isn’t all that

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Just remember this and give yourself a hug, you are awesome and he didn’t deserve you

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The last goodbye

Sometimes you can’t hold on to someone no matter how hard you try. Sometimes your efforts to be the person you feel they deserve makes you bend and push and distort yourself to the point you’re just not sure who you are anymore.

Sometimes dreams die and you should grieve them like a real death. It’s okay to grieve, it’s okay to cry, it’s okay to be human. People make promises and break them, they meant them when they made them they just couldn’t live with the gravity of what they promised.

He said he didn’t want any ties. He’d been to visit friends who had just got engaged after traveling the world, our life long dream that we couldn’t have, well not right now perhaps one day but it was too much for him to feel the disappointed of another shattered dream of so many dreams he’d had that were shattered and so he set me free.

I never wanted to become a wife, not before I had met him. I never understood what marriage could have meant before I met him. I waited so long for him to become himself again. I waited for the promises of soon and one day but they didn’t come, he gave up instead.

Dont let your heart rule your head they always say, but then follow your heart they say too. Here we sit at opposite ends, me following my heart, his head ruling and his head winning.

The loss is like a hole, it’s cavernous inside my soul where the soul mate that once lived has taken himself away.

Whilst I want to love again I’m not sure I can. Everything ends in goodbye one day whether you are the one leaving or the one being left behind living with the loss.

There is no other way than to grieve the death of the dreams and bury them deep in the ground cremated letting them go back into the universe like a wish that the dreams will one day be fulfilled.

Sometimes these dreams were just a glimps of the future dreams you can’t have yet. I won’t give up, I’ll find new dreams one day and pursue them with an open heart, when these dreams that I had are truly dead and buried to be reborn as something new.