So lately, I've dived into a bit of a crisis. They always seem to come up when I have too much time on my hands and not enough money in my pocket. In addition, they often coincide when I'm dating a Mr.I'm Not Sure man, which I'll elaborate more on later. Point being, I'm single, 37, relatively broke at the moment, on vacation from work, and *surprise* dating, a yes, Mr. I'm Not Sure Man. Admit it, you feel better about yourself already, don't you?
In addition, my spirituality has recently come into question. I've never considered myself religious. To be honest, I don't know that I ever believed in God. But last Saturday night, when I was home alone, yet again, I found myself searching for Atheist groups on meetup.org. I don't know what prompted me to do this. I don't really consider myself an Atheist. And then, the very next day I found myself juxaposed between a rather odd group of individuals discussing Intelligent Design, or rather, the lack thereof.
Truth is, I don't know if I'm an Atheist. I'm exploring the possibility of it. Anyway, this was the start of my most recent crisis. Not only was I still single and near penniless, there was no God to boot. And, I wasn't going to mention this, but I accidentally stumbled upon pictures of an ex-boyfriend with his new girlfriend on Facebook. I spent all day Monday with my blinds drawn, and the lights off. I cried. A lot. The dishes piled in the sink. The used tissue balls collected on the floor. When the tissue box was empty I resorted to toilet paper rolls. I thought of filling the tub with water and slashing my wrists. I imagined what would ensue. The people who would be sad. I imagined what they would say at work, what my family would say, how my friends who hadn't seen me in years would react when they heard the news. In the midst of all of this, I e-mailed the most dependable person I could think of. Jay X.
I met Jay 5 years ago in a laundry mat when I lived in West X. We talked for what seemed like hours. Jay had this cute, unassuming way about him. He was incredibly cute, smart, funny, witty and well traveled. He had this back East street wise sense about him, especially when he intercepted the conversation with phrases like "busting my chops." When both our laundries were finished, there wasn't much left to say except, "Good-bye, have a nice life." We parted sadly, both feeling the connection but unsure if the other felt the same way. As I pulled my Jetta out of the lot, there came Jay running out to stop me, "Hey, let me just give you my business card, in case you ever want to get together."
Neither one of us could have possibly imagined that we wouldn't actually "get together" for another 2 years. Anyway, Jay and I became friends. Of course, there's a lot more to that story and sometime I'll tell you all about Jay.
So on Monday, I e-mailed Jay. I told him everything. He called me and by the end of the conversation, I felt 70% better. In fact, I even did that pathetic thing all women do. I started to imagine that maybe Jay was actually the one for me. Maybe he would fly to City X, we'd have wild, passionate sex and realize we were meant for each other. Then I remembered that Jay had a girlfriend now. And that Jay still officially lives in London. And he's also a Gemini, but that's another story.
During our conversation though, he dispensed some rather telling advice. When I spilled everything to him, my longing to have a child, and my disappointment in the current man I was dating. He told me I needed to stop apologizing. He said I needed to quit wasting my time on Mr. I'm Not Sure Men. Men who couldn't give a solid answer about whether or not they wanted to marry and have a child. Holy guacamole, he was right on target! Why was I always apologizing for what I wanted? What I deserved? Why did I always feel like asking for what I wanted, made me demanding?
I remembered what a very beautiful and intelligent woman once told me. She said, "Effi, you have to believe you're a goddess. You have to believe that you deserve to be treated like a goddess because you are." At the time, I thought it was unbelievably arrogant, but she was right. I am a goddess. And I need to stop apologizing, and start demanding.
I think about my cat Frida. She's really an average cat. But most of the time, I forget that because she has me under her spell. She has me entirely convinced that she's royalty, and hands down the most beautiful cat ever. The reality? She's sporting a bit of a weight problem and has the stubbiest legs I've ever seen on a cat. Which, in sum, make her look more like a rather odd looking raccoon than a feline. But, she has the most unbelievable huge green eyes, and the most adorable face ever. She never questions how deserving she is of every ounce of affection on spill on her. Why wouldn't I? Frida knows she's a goddess. She has the right idea, and she's damn well not going to apologize for it. Why shouldn't she lie on the pillows and do whatever she pleases? She's Frida, dammit.
I need to be more like Frida. This is my first mission. Any time I'm in a position where I feel like being apologetic. I'll think, "What would Frida do?"
Yes, that's Mission #1. I know this will be the hardest mission of all.
Mission #2? I have to confront Mr. I'm Not Sure. I have to ask him, head on, with no apologies if he wants to be married and have another child (he's divorced and has two teenage daughters already).
Mission #3? For the first time, I'm putting myself out there. I'm asking for what I want. And guess what? If you don't have it, then hit the road. No apologies. Hey, it's what Frida would do, right?
My goal? To find my mate. In one year. The person who I can live the rest of my life out with. Who I can have my future son or daughter with. Who knows? Maybe Mr. I'm Not Sure will suddenly.....I don't know? Know what he wants? Maybe my mission will be accomplished that quickly...as soon as Mr. I'm Not Sure returns from his I'm Not Sure Where I'm Headed Holiday. But I'm betting on the opposite. And in the meantime, I have some serious socializing to do and some serious writing to do. And the best part about it all? I'll have some fabulous writing material, so I can do what I love best: write. I promise I'll keep you posted.
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