Today, Accept, Let Go, and Re-focus

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Thou shalt not marry Don Draper (And how to avoid it)

Ladies, you know the type. Charming. Handsome. Intoxicating. Downright magical at times.

His favourite thing about you is less your values and more your assets.

I even called him ‘my perfect prince’ in our wedding vows.

Gahh.

Ohh…. yes. It’s so obvious. Any sensible woman could tell you why marrying Don Draper would be a bad idea. And yet, if you want it, you’re going to do it anyway. Like I did.

I knew it was a bad move, I knew there would be consequences. But I wanted to have fun. And I was flattered that a man like that, liked me……  (damn you, self esteem!)

Unfortunately, I married a Don Draper who’s zest for creative language included calling me every derogatory, demeaning name in the book (from Lazy to Psychopath… and everything in between).

We had a whirlwind tornado of a relationship. It got toxic. It ended. That’s now the past.

I’ve now been separated for about 5 months. And it’s true, as my friend Looking for Chris said, that after the 90 day mark, things move quickly from Phase 1 to Phase 2. I’m happy to report that my phase 1 thoughts of reconciliation (and the miserable feeling these thoughts came with) are now finished. I have no interest in being with him ever again. And I am so very excited about what the future holds!

I’ve come to see that having my whole world hinge on 1 asshole is so much less rewarding than trusting my soul to the great universe and all it has in store for those who are willing to be open to it.

And open to it I am.

So inevitably, my thoughts are beginning to turn to dating – in the future – but to tell you the truth, I would still like more kids…. so I can’t *really* wait that long, although I’m aiming for 1 year. And when it does happen, I don’t want to throw myself into it head first. I want to be cautious, and pay a good deal of attention to the real person I see before me. I don’t want to ignore red flags (again). Or love so much I blind myself (again). And get into situations that aren’t healthy (again). I think you’re getting the picture!

So here’s what I want to know from my next potential human! I’m going to answer them myself as well (I will post) and you are welcome to do the same. I would love to hear your answers to any or all!

These are questions that I think with help me separate true good-human qualities from… shiny distractions and false advertising. In the end, it is what’s inside that counts for everything.

  1. What do you value most highly in an intimate partner (current or past), and why?
  2. What brings you joy?
  3. If you could never do one household chore again which one would it be?
  4. What makes you laugh? (List as many as you like)
  5. Who are your mentors or heroes, and what qualities do they have that you admire?
  6. Under what circumstances do strong negative emotions overtake you (or try to) and how do you handle that?
  7. What do you hide or feel ashamed of vs show and feel proud of?
  8. What do you ‘work on’ about yourself, or what are your weaknesses?
  9. What makes you a great partner?
  10. What brings meaning to your life, generally and specifically (daily or  weekly practices or hobbies, for example)?

An Extraordinary Human Being

In the past three months I have lost my marriage, two very close friends, 15 pounds, my house… and on Sunday, my grandfather.

I don’t want to add ‘my job’ to that list (which is why i haven’t posted in a while).

Through all of this, I have had this idea brewing in my head of an extraordinary human being. Being one, and understanding what it is to be one.

But what does it mean? For me, it means admitting flaws, being generous with your grace, honest with your intentions, invested deeply in your life, focused, and devoted to giving back to the world more than you take from it. Probably lots more. Integrity, rigor, forgiveness to name a few.

I have not always been the human I want to be. Every day I strive.

I’m curious – readers – what do you think makes an extraordinary human? Do you like this idea? Want to be one? Want to partner with one?

I would love your thoughts.

xo,
Georgey

No way Jose 

I saw him.

I felt fine for a while.

Then I felt like the rug was pulled out from under my progress.

I felt sticky and slimed.

By a slimeball who has no respect for me.

No way Jose.

YOU DON’T TREAT ME WITH RESPECT YOU GET NO PLACE IN MY LIFE.

Reunion, tomorrow.

This week my husband and I texted (by Skype) –  the first interaction we’ve had since his arrest, almost exactly 90 days ago.

It was good to talk to him, just for the familiarity. It was weird to recall how much of his cruel words I look past. For some reason, his abuse has always felt like love to me. Some strange part of me hears his hate and thinks ‘well, look how much he cares’ — I guess because it is negative, but it is still focused attention. (Cue the story of neglected childhood)

We basically have been talking on and off now for a few days. Mostly bad stuff. Mostly him blaming me for the arrest and saying it was planned and that I lied and yada yada.

I am well aware that he is paranoid, and that something goes very wrong in his head that makes his thoughts extremely different from reality. What disease is that? I don’t know. He fits no description. Maybe it’s something to do with his multiple head injuries. I have no idea.

And there comes that old feeling – that I’m the only one who will take take care of him, and I’m the only one who was born to love him. So there, I’m crazy too. hah!

I do feel really different talking to him – like nothing really rattles me anymore. So call me a liar, call me whatever you want – I don’t care. (I told him, actually, that I did not appreciate it, but I didn’t react to it, I just told him…. .)

It’s so weird that after all this, he is still just this steaming pile of…. blame.

So we will sell the house and we will move on, but in his head… it’s like there is no reality creeping in. He will continue to think I am his to abuse.

I married a crazy person. I knew I was doing it. I did it knowingly.

I read a strange thing the other day in the book “the verbally abusive relationship” — that people with a ‘compassionate witness’ to their suffering tend to become artists and empaths… and those who did not have that, become abusers.

He abuses, I feel sorry for him.

Fack. I don’t like that part of me that’s just like “come home, you fucking abusive idiot” and let’s ignore your craziness some more.

And tomorrow we meet at Starbucks to ‘exchange’ our daughter. So gross. I hate all of it. it’s gonna be super weird! At least I’m totally skinny! LOL. (((((The girls understand))))