Starting Again

Wow.  My last post was nearly a year ago; a lot has changed.  One of the reasons I didn't blog more here was the depression resulting from my job (which just got worse) and that sometimes I feel like I don't have much to say as an "older" single adult.  I just live my life.  Besides, who wants to hear from a single woman in a miserable job, driving an old car, and trying to learn new things? :)

Update:

I was laid off from that awful job a couple of months ago.  I feel like it was a direct answer to many anguished prayers.  I still don't know why it was the right thing to accept the job to begin with, and the right thing to deal with all the badness that came in the last half of my time there, but I am confident that it WAS the right thing, somehow, and that, even if I don't get the answers to my questions about it right away, I will eventually.  Or, if I don't get answers, I'll at least be blessed with understanding.  I didn't realize how depressed I was until after I met with HR about severance and 401k stuff and felt a lightness I hadn't felt in months.  I even stuck around my last few days and cheerfully cleaned my desk and finished or handed off some projects.  I even got emotional on my last day talking to a few excellent colleagues (could they be the reason I was supposed to work there, I wonder?) after they took me to lunch.

The first half of my time at that job was great.  I was treated as an equal and contributing member of a team with ideas and thoughts worth hearing.  I was respected and trusted.  If I was honest in my shortcomings, I was not made to feel stupid.  The last half...well, we've already discussed it and I don't really want to talk about it except to say that it took the first several weeks of unemployment for me to figure out that I had actually been depressed.  Not just sad or worried, but probably depressed enough that I should have sought help from a mental health professional.  The stupid thing is I should have seen it, having gone through some major depression (to the point of contemplating suicide--yikes) over a decade ago, but I didn't recognize it for what it was until after I'd been laid off.  I just figured things were weird and would get better.

(Incidentally, one of the weirdest things was that I was given no instruction or direction from my actual boss for how to handle closing my accounts and for taking care of my computer and other equipment.  I had to call several departments on my own to make sure I did things right.)

Since then I have said many prayers of thanks for getting me out of a really bad situation.  And, although the stress of not having a job has been wearing (there have been several weeks where I just let myself sleep until 11 AM and didn't really do anything until 1 PM), and I'm still working through some depression issues, it's been so nice to just be home.  I have been reminded that, if my single situation changes soon and I have the opportunity to stay home and raise children, I will be very happy to do so.  Very happy.  I have hope that I'll be able to do that.

I've been on several interviews since, but nothing has panned out.  My savings is getting low and I'm getting worried so I really hope I'll have something in the next three or four weeks because I don't know what I'll do if I don't.  Overall, however, being laid off, while stressful and sad at times, has been a blessing.  I look at it as God giving me a little bit of a break from work, and I figure as long as I'm doing my best, He'll tell me what to do next.

Trying Harder

It's very early on a Friday morning.  In fact, it's so early that it was Thursday less than an hour ago.  I should be sleeping, but instead I'm worrying about work.  There is so much going through my head that I can't express or even sort out enough to make sense of.  What I know is that I'm so unhappy at work that the thought of going there in a few hours almost makes me cry.  The clearly defined position I accepted last year has turned into one of nebulous responsibility, resulting in frustration, discouragement, and a general anxiety that I'm doing something wrong at any given time.  I very much dislike feeling this way. 

When I took the job, I felt very strongly that it was an answer to many prayers over several months.  Everything happened so quickly--I took all those events as a sign that it was the right direction for me and I should accept whatever they offered.  Several months later, I find myself doubting that decision nearly every day.  I don't know why I'm there, I don't know what my job actually is, and it's starting to wear on me so much that I'm not sleeping well and I dread walking into my building.  Despite my uncertainty and doubt, I definitely know that staying at my previous job would have been very bad for me, so I'm trying to stick it out without complaining.  Another friend is suddenly unemployed, which makes me feel worse for disliking my steady job with good benefits.

I don't even know what to do or how to start feeling better about everything.  I keep looking for other work, but I know my chances at a better job are slim right now.  Unlike the other members of my team, I did not go to school to be in this industry.  I have no desire to get an MBA, and a degree in business administration makes me cringe.  I'm stuck here, though, and I have to figure out parts of my job to like or I'll become even more depressed and anxious about it.

If God wants me to be happy, and He guided me where I am now, why am I so miserable?  Why do I feel like calling in sick all the time?  Why do I fantasize about getting in a car accident or slipping on the icy sidewalk and missing weeks of work?  Why am I told to do a project, but not given enough information to do it correctly, and then get scolded for asking clarifying questions?  Why, when I'm encouraged to ask clarifying questions, do I feel like I'm being punished for "pushing back" when I DO ask them?

I don't understand what's happening, and I wish I could figure it out.  No one likes someone who can't do anything but complain, and I'm afraid I'm turning into a constant complainer.  I feel somehow guilty for feeling like this, but I don't know how to fix it.  I'm praying that I'll find things to be happy about, and that I'll be able to be consistently cheerful and kind no matter what is dumped on me.  It's exhausting, though, and I hope I can figure all of this out soon.  The light at the end of this tunnel is very, very dim right now.

Never thought I'd see that

A while back we were out running errands a lot longer than we thought we would be and needed some food before starting the long drive home. We stopped at a Jack-in-the-Box for salads (they're good!) and followed a young twenty-something couple in.

Both of us needed to use the restroom, but the couple in front of us needed to as well. My husband headed to the men's room (which was one of those single room types not the multiple stall types). I saw the couple in front of us both head towards the women's room, and I thought that was weird. And then I saw the guy get the door for the girl. And I thought that was a odd type of chivalry (getting the door for me does have limits). And then I saw the guy follow her in. And I was blown away. Seriously?!

We ordered our food. We got our food. We started eating our food. We saw an employee go to the bathroom, see it was locked, and leave. Then a few minutes later we saw another woman go to the bathroom, see it was locked, knock, and then stand there and wait. She was surprised when the door opened.

The couple started to head out when the guy suggested they get something to eat. How nice of him. Till I noticed that she was the one pulling out a wallet and not him.

Later just before we left, when I was finally using the bathroom, my husband overheard a snippet of conversation between the couple. He heard the guy say "she's trying to revoke my parole."

Yup. Classy couple there.

Sideways

I've discovered, in my old age, that there is nothing that can adequately prepare you for being single in your late 30s.  Sure, I know people who went through this and are single in their 60s or 70s, and I'm sure nothing has prepared them for that.  This whole thing is really hard some days.  I got through my 20s single, and maybe I just stopped thinking about how hard it was, how weird it is to hear someone talking about their neice or friend who "got married later, you know, at 26".  Just TRY not to smile a little when you hear that and you're well past 26!  It's not as though you wake up every day and say to yourself, "man, it's going to be hard out there today because I'm single and almost 40!"  You just kind of live your life, and in the course of living your life, you don't really think about how hard it is being single until something blindsides you.

 

For instance, I have friends from high school who are preparing their sons for missions earlier than they thought because of the recent age change that was announced.  These women are my age, and their sons are going to be on missions in a year.  Less than a year, some of them.  I'm old enough to be helping a son prepare, but I don't have a son.  Here's another one:  some of these friends may have grandchildren the same age as my children, if I'm lucky enough to have kids in this life.  Try imagining that when you are 15 years old and thinking about what your future will be like!  One more:  One of my friends was talking about how hard it was to send her youngest child to kindergarten.  I said, "Oh, I might be peri-menopausal when I send my oldest to kindergarten--think about dealing with those hormones!"  We got a good laugh out of that, but it's a definite probability.

 

The other day at the hardware store, I saw a man I was good friends with in high school and during my first stint in college.  I didn't say hello because it completely unnerved me to see him with two small boys.  I knew he was married and was pretty sure he had kids, but seeing him interact with those adorable boys was gut-wrenching for some reason, so I pretty much ran away, unable to talk to him.  It unnerved me so much that I had to pray about WHY I was reacting so vehemently, and then I spent a couple of hours Facebook-stalking him and his wife to find out what their family life was like.  I found out how many kids they have, that she's had some major health problems recently, and that, judging from their family pictures, he loves her more than anything.  I'm sure that next time I see him, I will be able to greet him happily, get to know his kids' names, and tell his wife how much his friendship meant to me when I was younger.

 

After lots of thinking, I've decided the reason I was so freaked out at seeing him is that, at 17, I set him up as the ideal man.  When he got back from his mission and we were in college choir together, he was even more the ideal--kind, generous, smart, talented, grounded, respectful, spiritual, and someone who loved and respected women.  When I think of all the men I've known, only two come to mind as men who truly love and completely respect women.  Aaron is one of them.  After 20 years, he is still an ideal.  Seeing him interact so gently with his boys, and seeing, in pictures, what a fun dad he is and the incredible love he has for his wife, I can't help being happy that they found each other and have such a lovely family.  More than ever, I want to marry someone like him.  I think that's what blindsided me so hard that day; I know what I want, but finding him is getting harder.



Please Wear Clothes

I recently finished a project that involved some evening and weekend meetings.  Overall, it was a very positive experience--I got to meet some new people and get reacquainted with others (including my old friend Ken...more about him later)--but one thing really drove me up the wall.  There was one younger woman who came to nearly every meeting in her workout clothes.  I'm not talking sweats and a t-shirt, but full on workout gear:  sports bra, tank top, leggings (more like tights to be worn under something else).  When we started our meetings, she'd take her shoes off, pile her hair on top of her head, and stretch or do push-ups or something every time we had a break.  If her clothing and behavior were appropriate for the situation, or the situation were appropriate for her clothing and behavior, I wouldn't have had a problem with it.  As it was, though, neither was appropriate for the other, and she became a major annoyance to me.

There are only so many times I can handle an attention-seeker saying something like "look how I can touch the floor" while bending over so her leggings/tights stretch and I can very clearly tell she is wearing plaid underwear.  I almost took a picture with my phone and texted it to her so she could see what was happening whenever she moved.  I'm not sure why I didn't.  Maybe to protect what dignity she had left.

I make it a point to be dressed when I leave my house.  I only wear workout clothes in public when I'm actually working out.  I try to look nice even though I don't always wear makeup or jewelry.  I almost always wear my shoes unless I'm very comfortable with the people in my group.  I make VERY sure that my clothes don't show my underwear when I bend over or reach overhead, and I don't buy leggings unless they're opaque or I intend to only wear them under skirts or dresses for warmth.  (I can't quite get behind the recent leggings-as-pants phenomenon, mostly because so many leggings are actually footless tights and don't quite cover what people think they cover.)  I don't understand people who think workout gear is appropriate for every situation--I hardly even take the garbage to the curb in my pajamas, and my neighbors probably wouldn't even care if I did.  I care, though, so I avoid it.

While not technically immodest--it's not as though she was wearing a low-cut thong leotard over tights--this woman's clothing was immodest for the situation.  Her behavior was a worse offender.  There is a time and place to show off, and there is a time and place to loll around on floors, and there is a time and place to go barefoot.  There is rarely a time and place to throw yourself at anything with a Y chromosome, just for attention and validation.

At one of our final meetings, she'd just come from work and looked very nice.  I almost said, "you sure are attractive when you're dressed," but refrained.  It was a relief to find out a few weeks ago that the relationship I feared she was trying to start with Ken hasn't panned out the way she thought it might.  Her immodest ways didn't keep his attention for long, which was nice to know.

It gives me hope that, by not showing everything, I still have a chance to attract a good man.

It Is What It Is

It's been a rough couple of months in my little world.  There have been two funerals in four weeks in my ward--funerals for people I admire and care deeply for, and it's been very difficult.  There have been financial crises and car problems and surprise weight gain and illness.  I've been slightly depressed for weeks, I don't know how I fit into my new job, and I don't wear my favorite clothes there because they could be considered too embellished or decorative for what I'm doing now.  I need to dust my house, I need to clean off my desk, I need to get my car inspected before I get pulled over for having an expired registration.  I need to put my summer clothes away and get out my winter clothes, but that is hard to do when it is 75 degrees on Halloween and I feel uncomfortable wearing my colorful tights to work.

I'm emotionally, mentally, and physically exhausted right now.  I don't feel like myself and I can't figure out if it's my new job or something else that is eating at me.  I enjoy the work, but I don't LOVE it, and sometimes I feel guilty because of that.  But, really, should I be wearing myself out trying to LOVE my job, or should I instead be focused on doing my job well and being reliable?  My boss wants me to LOVE my job, and I don't know how to break it to him that that is probably never going to happen.  Work is something I do to pay the bills.  If I enjoy it (or don't resent it) most of the time, that's great, but I can think of only one job that I'll actually LOVE:  being a wife and mom.  Unfortunately, I don't see myself getting that job any time soon, so I have to keep deflecting my boss's questions about how much I LOVE my job.  I suppose I'll eventually have to have that conversation with him, and he'll tell me that maybe I should be looking for something else to do, and then I'll go home and cry because the things I really want to do aren't exactly easy to get.

That seems like the cycle of my 30s:  make big plans, realize that big plans cost money, remember that I got a non-technical degree, look at grad schools, apply for grad schools, get rejected from grad schools, find a job I don't resent on a daily basis, wonder why I'm slightly depressed, make big plans...

Fortunately, in the midst of all of that, I have a pretty great family and some really great friends.  I even occasionally get to flirt with handsome men and wear my pretty things, so it could be worse.  Like it'll be if I hit my 40s still single and being paid less than I'm worth...

Apathetic directionless waiters

I had some friends back when, who thought they could set me up on dates because they had the perfect guy for me. We were both LDS and both single, how much more compatibility do you need!

By this point in my life I had done a few things, like graduate from college, start a career, serve a mission, work in a foreign country. My life had a direction and I was actively pursuing life.

I remember one of those blind dates that went pretty much like this Dilbert date. The guy really had no long term plans. Choking to death on an olive while clinging to failure in a fabric covered cubicle wasn't outside the realm of items on his "five year plan" at that point.

And it wasn't attractive.

I wasn't judging him because he was still in college, but by the fact that he had no idea why he was in college or really what he was going to do after. Have a dream for crying out loud!

One song that I refuse to listen to is John Mayer's "Waiting on the World to Change." To me that song symbolizes the apparent apathetic approach to life that far too many people have today. You don't wait for the world to change, you go out and make it happen, in whatever way you can. Apathetic directionless waiters are not attractive dates and make for boring dinner conversation.

Too much

There have been some pretty big changes in my life recently.  I don't do well with change--I think I've discussed this before--even when the change is ultimately for my own good.  The last several weeks have been particularly difficult:  I unexpectedly got a new job, one of my dearest friends got married and moved away, another friend moved across the country, and a project I lovingly worked on for nearly four months ended.  All in the same week.  It was really rough on me, but I willed myself not to break down even though I cried at my friend's wedding and reception.
Today, I finally lost it.  I've been doing some training in another city for my new job, and, gas prices being what they are, I took the bus and train to get there.  For one reason and another, I missed the last express bus and sobbed in my car because of it. . . and everything else.  I haven't cried like that for a long time, but out it came and there I was, in my car in the station parking lot, crying for all the world to see.  I cried for a good 10 minutes, but managed to pull myself together, make peace with the idea of being nearly an hour late for work, and I got on another bus.

The same bus a distasteful, socially awkward, and (now) unattractive ex-boyfriend was on.  I couldn't avoid him and was angry and annoyed that he was there, sitting next to me, trying to talk about my life.  He annoys me SO MUCH I can't even describe it, but you know how you look at someone you used to date and wonder what in the world possessed you to find him attractive?  Sigh.  I was stuck with him for over an hour and it was a relief to leave him on a street corner and cross to my building, hoping to never see him again.  He makes me gag a little and I'm glad I stopped spending time with him at all.  I mostly did it to be nice, but it wasn't worth it.  I'm upset with myself that I spent so much time with him, hoping maybe he wouldn't annoy me so much, when I could have been with someone I actually like, like a friend or a sister.

It's a good thing my afternoon was much better than my morning, but I'll be really glad for the short commute to my actual office to start soon.  I don't want to think about any other weirdos I'll meet on the train...

Happy Non-anniversary!

Today would have been my anniversary. It's a strange mix of emotions looking back at the last few years: I'm happy I'm where I am, I'm sad for what could have been.

Most of all, I thank God almost every day that I didn't marry him.

Awkward

I got a Valentine.

You'd think this would be a positive sign, but it really isn't. The Valentine came from a man in my ward. It's just a bag of candy with a note on it, nothing big, but it's unnerving and distressing and awkward. This man (a kind and thoughtful man, mind you) is and never will be marriage material. I hear myself say it out loud and I feel terrible, but he has some physical and intellectual limitations that make it impossible for me to see him as anything but a kind and thoughtful man. There are some things I can deal with, but his limitations are such that they automatically write him off even for a friendship.

I've tried my best to not encourage him at all in this, but you know that sometimes no matter what you do, it isn't enough to deter someone who is very determined. He sits by me in Sunday school when he can, he goes out of his way to shake my hand (sometimes to the point of coming to my pew in church when I've already sat down). IT IS AWKWARD. We had a ward activity a while ago that involved music, and he asked me to dance. I was a little prepared, so I was able to politely decline because I was keeping someone else company. I don't want to hurt his feelings, but I CAN'T encourage him in this.

This is one of those times when it would be highly convenient to have a serious boyfriend. I know I shouldn't ask Heavenly Father for a boyfriend just to avoid this other guy, but I must admit I'm sorely tempted sometimes. Ha. I'm sorely tempted to make up a boyfriend, but then I'd have to explain myself to my entire ward and that would be even more awkward, wouldn't it? Sigh.

I hate walking this line; it is such a disconcerting position to be in. I've been here before, but not with someone quite as limited as him, so it's even more awkward than it usually is.

I guess I should be grateful that he's not doing this to someone of a less appropriate age--I'd rather it was me than someone younger and more likely to be freaked out by his attention. Still, I wish it wasn't this way.

The thought of eating the candy he gave me makes me nauseated, and I just can't do it.

Church tomorrow has a very high weirdness index.

Discouraged

Roxie and I were talking the other day about how easy it sometimes is to be discouraged, and she made the point that discourage essentially means "taking away courage". Last night, I got a rejection form letter for a job I applied for, and today I feel hopeless and discouraged. I feel afraid to try anything else right now because I'm certain it won't work. I feel like I'm not good enough to try to get out of my dead-end job, that I'll be stuck here forever, gradually gaining 100 pounds through inactivity and losing whatever IQ I have through mindless repetition, eventually becoming grotesque and pointless and redundant.

I posted about being lonely a couple of days ago, and that feeling is just adding to my current spate of discouragement. Sometimes this being single business is REALLY hard.

I've been doing Jillian Michaels' 30-Day Shred program and liking it quite a bit. I haven't leveled up yet but plan to in the next week or so. There's a thing she says at the very end of Level 1, when you're doing bicycle crunches and your abs are screaming. She says, "I know it's hard. That knot in your stomach right now? It's you getting stronger. It's fear leaving your body." I really like hearing that. At first I wasn't sure what she meant, but when I figured it out, it made so much sense. It's the fear of not being able to finish that workout AGAIN, but you power through anyway, and you're done! So I guess we need to fight the fear in our lives in the same way, right?

I guess I just have to keep going through this little setback. I have to power through another set of spiritual bicycle crunches so I can come out stronger in the end. But, much like a workout routine, it's really hard to keep going when you don't see immediate results. That's what has me down today. I'm losing the courage to change my life.

Well, fine then

Some weeks ago, I went on a really nice first date. I had asked him out to an event, but he couldn't make that evening, so he asked me to dinner later in the week.

So to dinner we went. We laughed a lot. We had great food. We went on a post-dinner walk. We talked for hours. He would go on to describe the evening as "refreshing" and that he "had a wonderful time." A few nights later, we arrived separately to a party only to spend most of the night near or with each other, leaving together and talking in his car into the small hours of the night.

For the next couple of weeks, I got a hug every time we saw each other and met a couple of his friends. Conversation was still easy and things seemed to be going well. We didn't have any more official dates, but there were still good signs in that direction.

And then they weren't. I wouldn't go so far as to say that he's avoiding me, but sometimes it feels like it. As usual, I have no idea why. I have my suspicions, but no real clue. If I ever feel it's appropriate, I might ask him what's up, but then again, I might not. Instead, I'll just move on and find someone who never leaves me hanging.

Whoever Mr. Future is, he's fantastic and never giving me reason to doubt his feelings. I'm tired of not believing something is real and then have that doubt come true.

Things I won't say

That I won't cry if Campbell gets engaged to this girl he's dating.

That I'm completely over even the idea of a relationship with him.

That I'm not a tiny bit shallow because I think she has bad skin and brassy hair and that I'm prettier.

That I'm not a tiny bit at peace with it all.

That we didn't have potential for something awesome.

That I don't miss his friendship.

That I'm not confused by the way things worked out.

I will say that I wish I understood why we were such good friends if he's not going to be part of my life ever again.

I will also say that I'm working on a much longer post wherein I try to be philosophical and hopeful even though another Person With Potential no longer has any potential.

It's hard. What's that line from "When Harry Met Sally"? Oh yes--Marie turns to Jess and says, "Tell me I'll never have to be out there again," and Jess replies, "You'll never have to be out there again." Out There kind of sucks. This whole balancing act between not liking someone enough and liking them too much JUST IN CASE he might or might not like-like you back? It's stupid. It's exhausting. I'm tired. I'm usually optimistic enough to accept set-ups (few and far between as they are) with good humor and an open mind, but the latest guy, The Professor (I think that's what I'll call him if anything pans out), has been exchanging emails with me for a month and hasn't made a single move. All I really want is the reassurance that I don't have to be on this particular balance beam/roller coaster/seesaw very much longer, and that there will come a day (soon, please) where I know I'll never have to be Out There again.

I won't say I'm looking forward to much of anything right now. Sigh.

Who does she think she is?

I wasn't planning on discussing Sk8er Boi here again, but that was before he announced on Facebook that he's in a relationship now. Not only did they go "Facebook public", but he actually posted about how it might upset people because he said he wasn't going to date anyone for awhile but he is and he cares about her.

I actually think he was talking to me.

And guess what? I was a little upset. Less than two months after he ended things with me because he wasn't ready to be in any relationship, he has an official girlfriend and they went Facebook public, which I never quite was and we never did.

I guess it was me after all.

I spent most of Friday really mad. At him. At myself, since I was mad that this still made me so mad. And, as always, at the situation. Why does she get to be his girlfriend when we could never make it that far? Why would he let an accomplished, intelligent me go in favor of whoever this girl thinks she is? Why am I judging someone I don't even know? (She came into his life during our relationship, but we never actually met.) When is it my turn?

RAWR.

I felt better on Saturday, and I've felt even better today. This development in his life changes nothing in mine. I have no reason to believe he was lying to me at any point, so I guess he really didn't think he was ready. They're a better match anyway, since we were so unlikely. He did care about me then. Eventually I'll get over the fact that he's sharing intimate things with someone new, and eventually I'll get to have some of my own intimate moments again. As I said then, it really did come down to bad timing and an unlikely match. One day I'll get those right.

In the meantime, I had a nice little chat, in person, with a new crush today. We met a few weeks ago, and even though we hadn't seen each other in almost two weeks he randomly added me on Facebook last night. He must have been thinking about me . . .

Of attraction and "You Never Know"

I DO know. I know that I am NOT attracted to men who are shorter than me, thinner than me, or who have smaller feet and hands than I do.

At nearly 5'9", I'm a taller-than-average woman. I have long arms and legs, and, yes, bigger-than-average feet and hands. Thanks to genetics, they're well-proportioned and well-shaped, with long slender fingers and toes (my second toe is nearly as long as my pinky finger, which is fun to demonstrate when people don't beleive me). If anything other than average, my bone structure is on a slightly smaller scale, but I'm not one of those size 2 women with a 24" waist. I am, I think, at a fairly healthy weight--the 20 pounds I've gained over the last several years at a desk job haven't made a HUGE difference in my overall size, and I've never gone past a certain weight (either low or high) so my body is pretty set within a 30 pound range of what I weighed in high school (I was pretty skinny during puberty).

While most of my friends were getting over their gawky stage, I was in the thick of it at 17. I'd grown an inch and a half sometime between junior and senior years, and I grew an additional half inch (and half a shoe size) after high school. I was suddenly taller than a lot of my friends and felt awkward and gangly--thank goodness for childhood dance lessons, or I'd probably have been even MORE clumsy. I had these arms and feet and legs that got in the way and for a while I could walk down the middle of a wide hallway and still end up with bruises on my elbows.

My feet were average until 8th grade, when I suddenly realized I couldn't borrow my mom's shoes anymore. By the time I was 15, I was wearing size 9 shoes and I was only 5'4" tall; I felt like a clown. I have a difficult time finding gloves big enough to accommodate the space between my index finger and my thumb, but small enough that my fingers aren't swimming in them. Long enough skirts and pants are also hard to find, and I won't get into my shoe issues except to say that I'm so grateful I don't also have wide feet. I feel for those of you who do, especially if your feet are a size 9 or more.

Although I've maintained my weight and I'm not quite overweight for my height, I know it's a possibility if I don't exercise. I see women at work who have been in desk jobs for 15 or 20 years and have gained a lot of weight. It wears on them; one woman can't walk down the hall without panting and sweating. I honestly think that the hand genetics dealt me doesn't include the morbid obesity card, but that doesn't mean I get a free pass. I don't want to get too thin, either, because that would be unhealthy. Women who talk about wanting to get back to their high school weight don't realize that I didn't start puberty until I was 15. If I ever get as thin as I was in high school (somewhere between 120 and 130 pounds), there is probably something very wrong with me.

Now that I've established my size history, perhaps you'll understand that when my ex-fiance (just two inches taller than me) quoted the weight loss goal he was trying to attain, and it was just 10 pounds more than the weight I already was, I felt very insecure talking to him about my extra weight. He said he wasn't bothered by my high heels, but in the end I think he was. I felt huge around him sometimes even though he was stronger than me.

I don't want to feel huge around my husband. I am insecure about enough things that I don't want to be insecure about my weight, shoe size, height, or hands. When I've held hands with men whose fingers are shorter than mine, I feel huge (unless their hands are actually BIGGER). I work with an attractive man who I outweigh by 30 pounds, so I don't even go there. I was once cast in a play opposite a man who was 2 or 3 inches shorter than me and at least 35 pounds thinner. I did my best to act the part well and to let my character be attracted to him, but it was a huge relief when he had to drop the show and was replaced by someone much taller. I've been out with wonderful men with small hands and feet and, much as I like them as friends, I'm much more comfortable around someone bigger than me. I like feeling secure that if something happened to me, the man I'm with could easily help me get to safety.

I am just not attracted to men who are smaller than me. I wouldn't go out with one in pursuit of a relationship. So for all those women who say "you never know!" I would like to say, YES. I DO know. I don't think God wants me to be in an eternal marriage with someone to whom I'm not attracted, and I am not attracted to men who are shorter or thinner than me, so stop assuming I'm just being picky and close-minded. I really do mean it when I tell you that I won't marry someone with smaller feet than me--I really don't need him trying on my shoes and commenting on how big they are. . .

See ya later, boy

Well, I guess I was right to worry. Sk8er Boi apparently did spend time on his vacation thinking things through about his life and our relationship and decided we couldn't have one and he came back and we broke up. Then I got so sad that I haven't been able to eat or sleep the way I should, let alone write about it.

Short version: It sucks.

Longer version: We were an unlikely match right from the beginning. He's several years my junior and we're, appropriate to our age differences, at different places in our life and career paths - in that I have one and he doesn't - not to mention several other differences between us. Originally, and we discussed it length on our second date, we weren't concerned yet. Aware, not stupid, but not concerned. We'd take things slow and figure out just how big of a difference our differences were as they came up.

While he was soaking up sun rays, he finally realized that he's a little lost right now and doesn't know what direction to go and can't give me the time and attention I deserve while he figures it out. It's not me, he assured me repeatedly, I'm special and "not going to be just another girl" that he dated, but we can't be together right now. He still has feelings for me.

It makes sense, really. I sincerely appreciate that he had the maturity to realize that and the guts to tell me in person. I'm not even mad at him, just mad at the situation. He's the most fun I've had in a long time and the only man who's really looked at me like he did for ages. I really miss him

Maybe one day we'll get our timing right. Maybe I'll find someone else even better.

Until then, I had some wonderful friends rally around me last weekend. I've changed my hair a little. And I have three parties to attend this weekend, one full of all new (to me) people, since I only know the host.

It's going to be okay. I wish Sk8er Boi well, and know that this may the end of us, it's not the end of me.

Disappointed

I was able to spend my evening in the temple after a day of (bits of) reorganizing and dejunking and I felt SO GREAT after I was done in the temple, and then I went to the store and was hit with a wave of disappointment. I'm not entirely sure what set it off, but I know part of it had to do with the sudden awareness that someone avoided me and I don't know why he did. He flashed past my peripheral vision on his way to the check-out and by the time I realized he'd walked right past without even a nod, he was gone. He also isn't following my Twitter feed anymore, which just added to the disappointment. I'm fully aware that sometimes I whine and complain on Twitter--it's a defense mechanism, I guess, so I don't take it out on people within a physical radius--but I've tried really hard to be positive or at least funny. Maybe I'm not positive or funny enough, but then I saw a group of friends at a wedding reception last night who kept telling me how positive and funny I was. Go figure.

As I ate my very late dinner of peanut butter toast and a glass of milk, I got to thinking about other recent disappointments:

David tells me how great I am, asks when I'm going to visit him, consults me on his house remodel, says if he had a million dollars he'd buy me a new car, tells me I'm pretty. . .and then vents about how he can't find anyone pretty/smart/faithful enough to marry.

Campbell hasn't talked to me in more than 3 months and I don't know what I did to earn his repulsion. The last time he talked to me, he mentioned how he hadn't been able to find anyone to interest him so he was resorting to an online dating profile--keep in mind he said all this while showing me pictures of his family and sitting right next to me on my couch and complimenting my outfit and remembering conversations we had months ago and winking at me occasionally. What gives?!

The General obviously thinks I'm too old for him, even though we're barely a year apart. I saw him this week, too, and he updated me on his life after giving me a great big hug, but I know he's more interested in chasing 20-year-olds (and acting like one) than in someone who can meet him intellectually.

Ken has known me for almost 20 years and is one of the funniest and sweetest people I know, and on the rare occasions we actually see each other, we seem to get along pretty well and have a variety of mutual interests. There's probably potential for something at some point (I know that could be the case with a lot of people), but we live 40 miles apart and I'm not nearly as athletic as the girls he probably wants to date.

Super Girl seems to change her personality to exactly match whoever she's dating, and this time is no exception. It's bad enough that I'm worried I won't even be able to talk to her again without feeling like I'm being judged for everything from what I eat to the books I read. She's a strong, independent woman who has done SO much to improve her life that it kills me to see her subsume so much of herself just because she's seeing someone new. I feel like I've lost the close friend I had a couple of years ago, and I don't know if it's even worth fixing now.

Diane moved back to the state to live with her parents and transfer to another job, and I am almost emotionally exhausted just thinking about her living in the same city as me again. Needless to say, I am ignoring any attempts on her part to renew a relationship of any kind. Just because you forgive someone doesn't mean you have to let that person back into your life, right?

So, I am having one of those rare "why aren't I good enough" nights. I feel exactly good enough in the temple, exactly good enough around a few people, but there are times I wonder what in the world is wrong with me--am I not friendly enough? Don't I laugh enough? Do I have hobbies that are too weird? Is it a turn-off that I love cats and babies? Should I make more of an effort to wear mascara every day? Am I too smart or opinionated? Am I too much of a homebody? Am I just too old?

Sometimes I honestly don't understand what part of me is so horrifying that no one wants to spend any time with me.

Way to go, Slick

Remember how I met someone and was annoyed by my coworker's comments and then never said anything on the matter again? Sorry about that.

It's true though. I did meet someone. It was, of course, when I least expected it - at an industry event and I was certainly not in flirt mode. I was networking my face off when we met, which is why we actually met, but a few hours after our first encounter, we were almost inseparable for the next few days of meetings. I still wasn't even sure whether I was making a new friend or business contact or what, because while we did flirt a little, it certainly wasn't overt and we were spending most of our time at this work event. We were mostly just talking about our industry, about our common interests not related to work, and laughing throughout, and I really wasn't even analyzing it too much. That, of course, changed when he kissed me.

I like kissing.

Unfortunately, the day after our last meeting, we had to go our separate ways, at least physically. We live in different states, sadly, and our event had been in neither of our states.

We kept talking though. And flirting. LOTS of flirting. This time it was overt, and we'd said that we didn't want to just write off our time in person. We got in deep in some our discussions, because of our shared background, which is actually something that started the day we first met. There aren't too many cocktails parties I start talking about the temple with someone I've only known for seven hours. Not only do we do the same thing for work, but we were both raised LDS. I'm from The Homeland; he went to school in The Homeland.

Though we never talked on the phone, we chatted and texted almost every day, and it was just nice and thoroughly enjoyable. We kept being surprised by even really obscure things we had in common.

I did get the feeling he wasn't telling me something though. I got that impression from the night we kissed. There was something he was conflicted about in regards to starting something with me, but he never really brought it up after that night and even then I was only getting it in between the things he was actually saying. Thanks to the miracle/hell of his online presence, I dug up that he was divorced, possibly even twice, once in the last few months, which is probably what he was referring to when he said he'd "just resolved a relationship" while only inches from my mouth and I wasn't going to dig deeper just at that moment. I knew he had kids, since it was right there on a profile we'd already connected on. He did tell me about his struggles in his relationship with the church and how he was still trying to figure out just what he believed.

Still, I remained cautiously optimistic. With the distance between us, things were bound to develop slowly anyway, so I figured we'd talk about things when the time was right. I am getting older after all, and I know that the chances of me finding someone completely baggage-free is decreasing.

And we were still talking.

Until three weeks ago.

We last texted on a Friday evening, even though we'd spent most of the day on IM together. I called him Sunday morning, but only left a message. He wasn't on IM the next day or any day since. By Wednesday, I texted him asking a question that was not "Um, hey, where are you?" I sent another casual text about a week later.

No response.

We were still connected though a couple different online networks though, so I thought he might just be taking a little break. That is, until I got a message last weekend via Dropbox that I left our shared folder. That is not something you can do accidentally, and I knew I didn't do it on purpose. Seriously!? Being rejected by Dropbox is not something I ever expected to have to process. We still have one other online connection, not to mention our shared professional network.

I'm really bummed, to say the least, and a lot angry. Someone I had something with has just disappeared on me. Again. Not calling after one or two dates is one thing, but after weeks of talking, flirting, and physical affection? I am so not a fan, and it's happened to me more than I'd like to admit. This guy even knew that, because we discussed it once, some weeks earlier.

Him - I can live without. As genuinely interested as I was, there were several yellow flags and the timing was probably all wrong. But to just disappear with nary a word is a cowardly way out and rather juvenile. I'd love to say something - send an email or leave a voicemail that says, I don't know, something perfect. But what would it accomplish? Probably nothing.

I'll likely run into him at our network's next gathering in about ten months. That's going to be . . . fun. . . But this isn't my fault! He clearly has things he needs to work through and he's just not ready for me and too chicken to say anything. Even something as simple as "Look, I just got divorced. I'm not ready for anything new right now. Can we still talk though?" It really was the conversations we had that made him so attractive in the first place.

In the meantime, I'm going to keep being fabulous. Someday, hopefully soon, someone is going to take the risk of jumping into something with me. I just have to keep remembering that.

But hugs and chocolate are nice right now too.

What's wrong with you that you don't date?

After my post last week about infertility, I started to think about how similar it can be in many respects to being single, especially as you approach, and pass, 30.

People might look at us and assume we don't have kids because we don't want them or because we're waiting to pay off debt or finish degrees or because I really don't want to clean out the room I'm using as a sewing room and turn it into a bedroom again or whatever other reasons they might think of.

And that's because our efforts to have children are not things we do in public (thank goodness). Nobody sees all the charting I do. Nobody sees all the months we tried on our own. Nobody sees all the doctor appointments I have now. Nobody sees all the prayers we offer, the tears I cry, or the talks we have after we turn out the lights at night and my fears suddenly find voice. They might see us exercising, or notice we take daily vitamins, or other small things. But those aren't things you automatically assume someone is doing because they are trying to get pregnant.

Now to being single.

I had a roommate once, when I was the ripe old age of 24 and she was the ripe old age of 19, and the last time I ever had roommates, ask me, "What's wrong with you that you don't date?"

I had no idea how to answer that. It's just as rude as asking a married couple, "What's wrong with you that you don't have kids?" Although I can probably come up with a snappy answer to that if you give me a second.

But being single you are doing a LOT of things that are helping you that aren't really visible to the whole world. Nobody sees you working through and living your budget. Nobody sees you learning household skills that will help you no matter what house you live in. Nobody sees you expanding your mind and talents as you develop who you are. Nobody sees the look on your face when you get home and remember there's nobody there to share your good/bad day with. Nobody sees the hours spent in the scriptures or in prayer that build your relationship with your Heavenly Father so that you can learn to fully trust Him. Probably 99% of the things a single person does to put them in the best position possible to get married are not seen by anyone.

Yet everyone is always full of "great advice" for single people. A lot of it sounds the same as the "great advice" they give infertile couples. There's, "just relax," and, "it will happen when you aren't looking/least expect it," that both of them get. There's the stories for infertile couples about how if you start looking into adoption you'll get pregnant, or for single people about how if you go to the institute dances/get online you'll meet someone just like my sister's in-law's cousin's neighbor did.

When you are single people will assume it's for all kinds of reasons - you're too picky, you're too focused on school/career, you're into porn, you're homosexual, you're.... And yet none of those reasons have to do with what is most likely the real reason - it's not the time God ordained yet. God is in charge. Let let Him do what's best.

Why I'm NOT a mom

Unexplained.

That's the one word answer to why.

After trying for a year on our own we were officially labeled "infertile" by the medical community. I'm never one for labels, but that one really hurt. And I've shed several tears about it.

Since the beginning of 2011 I've averaged one doctor appointment a week. Sometimes I get a week off but that generally just means two the following week. Try working your schedule around that. Every week someone is poking something into me - needles, speculums, ultrasound wands. I've actually mastered the art of peeing in a cup now too.

And after all that the answer came back - unexplained. Both of us work great. But for some unexplained reason we just aren't working together.

Every prayer I offer is a plea for guidance, understanding, and peace, as well as children. I've spent nights wondering if I'm not worthy to be a mom, which I know is crazy. I've cried that I can't fulfill the commandment to "multiply and replenish the earth and have joy therein." I feel broken. Even though medically speaking I'm not.

We have told a few people what we are going through, but that number is extremely small. The last thing I need is bad advice ("just relax and it will happen", "just stop trying and it will happen"). The last thing I need is everyone asking how things are going. A few people who need to understand my schedule a bit know just that I have some health issues we're working on.

I've lost my innocence about the miracle of birth. It's no longer something that my husband and I do together. It's something that's going to involve medical equipment and sterile things and more poking. The odds of us finding out we're expecting in the quiet of the morning (with my new found peeing in a cup talents) and being able to be the only people who know and revel in that miracle for a while are pretty much zero at this point. Now it'll be more poking, a blood draw, and a phone call.

We've lost a lot so far. I'm just holding on and hoping I don't lose my faith.

And that's why I'm not a mom.