The Widowhood │ Sure, What’s My Dating Handle Going to Be?

One of the things that I like about my job is that one of my co-workers is in her middle-20’s, without kids and is actively dating and trying to meet someone. She keeps it real with me and I appreciate it because while I am not actively dating, she keeps me thinking about it and working over one day trying again and seeing if there is someone out there for me to build a life with.

          The other day she comes in and sits with me by my desk, scrolling through her dating app and becoming increasingly more frustrated with it. Has modern society really made it this hard to find someone? Probably.

          “Did you ever sign back up to e-harmony,” she asks me, flicking down her phone and over whatever app she was on.

          I sigh. “I started to do the personality test and then I just started to cry so I figured that I was probably not in the best mindset to be doing this and I was not ready to try again.”

          “That’s fair. My best guy friend told me last night that my profile was horrifying and that’s why I wasn’t getting anyone interested in me.”

          I paused what I am doing. “Well, do you think he was right?”

          She begins reading to me her profile. I last a couple of seconds before I put my hands up. “Yeah, he is absolutely right. That sounds crazy and demanding and not at all what you should have in a dating profile.”

          “Well! I AM JUST SO TIRED OF IT! I am so tired of something starting and it just falling apart. I am so tired of putting myself out there and it being nothing in the end. How do you start yours when you’re doing it?”

          I chuckle. “I keep it light and honest. I think when I met John mine had said that I was a widow with three kids and that I was looking for something meaningful.”

          “What is light about being a widow with three kids?”

          “Not a whole lot, but it’s honest and I didn’t want someone to be surprised by that because—” She cuts me off.

          “Because you didn’t want someone who was going to leave over the kids and hurt you and the kids,” she says, having listened to me cry many times over the summer about the state of my life.

          I’m teary eyed again. “Yeah, pretty much and then that happened anyway so here we are. I guess I don’t know a whole lot about dating either.”

          “Have you thought about using a free app? Might just get you a couple of dates and gets you out of the house a couple nights? Gives you a break?”

          I snort. “You mean one of those sites that you need to even create a handle for? What would mine even be? Something like widowedmomofthreewithfreshexboyfriendbaggage,” I say flippantly.

          She looks at me and busts out laughing and then suddenly I am laughing with her, a real laugh. One I haven’t had in many weeks and then we’re both laughing so hard that we are in tears, and it hurts to breathe.

          “What,” I manage to choke out, “Is that too crazy and pressure filled?”

          “Yes,” she laughs. “But it is also so perfect all in one.”

          “Do I need a handle for whatever app that you’re using,” I ask, regaining my composure.

          “No, but this one has you answer questions like what is your favorite cry to song.”

          “What is yours,” I ask, tucking my feet up underneath me on my chair.

          “Well, my best guy friend told me I need to set it to ‘Back That Ass Up’ and that would make men message me because it’s funny.” She starts humming the lyrics.

          “And did you?”

          “Oh yeah, I did, and you know what? He was right, men are messaging me asking me why that song.”

          “Maybe we should just have him write our profiles and see where it goes,” I laugh. “I don’t think my issues are the profiles though. I think mine will always be the dead husband, the kids and my John created trust issues over my insecurities about the kids and the dead husband.”

          “The right guy is going to love those kids though and the dead husband is kind of a blessing really, they don’t have to deal with an ex-husband.”

          “You’re not wrong. I just don’t think I’m ready.”

          “You’re not. You’re just out of your first long relationship after being widowed and it’s pretty clear you still love John.”

          I nod, teary eyes returning.

          “But when you are ready, please use that handle and let’s see how it goes,” she says laughing.

          “Maybe we can just do a social experiment.”

          “Don’t tempt me.”

          Ultimately, we decide against doing a social experiment and we sit scrolling through her free dating app and looking at the messages that she got from turning her cry-to song to “Back That Ass Up,” while she sings it loudly.  

The Widowhood │ John

I become restless waiting for John to get to my house. I begin to nervously reclean the house that I had just spent the last couple of days going over. When I run out of the things to wipe down, I decide to sit outside on my front steps. I am thinking that the fresh air will give me a doze of reality and I won’t be so nervous. It is a beautiful, warm May day outside. My front yard is alive and as I sit on the steps of my house, I think about how good, but crazy this all feels. I wonder if I will like him as much in person as I have liked him over the phone. Would he still like me? Is this whole New York thing absolutely crazy? What if we hate each other and it all blows up once we get there? 

Suddenly, he is pulling into my driveway, and I realize that this was it. I had to dial back the anxiety and the crazy thoughts deep into the center of Katherine-ville and allow myself to be open to John and to whatever was going to come from this weekend in New York. I stand up, rubbing my hands together trying to get them to stop sweating. He’s already out of his car and rummaging in his passenger seat as I walk over to him. I feel my breath catch in my chest as he turns, and we look at each other for the first time. He is more handsome in person than he is in his pictures, but it is the look that he is giving me that makes my steps feel suddenly a little off. 

There is a look that a man will give you when he sees a woman that he is inexplicably drawn to and one that he views as his. It is not a look that a woman will see often and when it is given, it is usually a significant moment where a woman knows that her life is about to change again. It is a piercing look that you feel to your core and if you are as drawn to him as he is to you, your stomach will flip in all kinds of ways sending waves of little butterflies through you. It is possessive and animalistic. I have only ever gotten such a look twice in my life, once from Phil when our dating was turning into something serious and now again from John on my front lawn. I had not been expecting that, and he knocked me off center at that moment. What surprised me even more was how when I met that piercing animalistic look was how quiet my head became and how in that moment all I saw was John and felt all kinds of butterflies fluttering through me.

I knew at that moment that he feels it too because as soon as it started, he was already apologizing for staring at me. I don’t remember what I said as it took several more moments for my brain to reconnect to the rest of me, but I probably smiled and made a joke. He hands me flowers and a loaf of sourdough bread that he made. I think it’s one of the sweetest things that anyone has ever given me. There is a subtle giddiness that seems to settle over the both of us and I invite him inside. We make small talk about things as I put the bread away and my new flowers into water. We stand in my kitchen at the island and have one of our first kitchen chats, the first of many that will follow. There is a gentle tension that falls in between us that adds a little nervousness to the giddiness, I suddenly feel a little stupid…a little love-struck.

And then just as suddenly as my life had changed, we are on our way to the train station and into Manhattan.

The Widowhood │ E-harmony

I cannot get over the cost of e-harmony, it is blowing my mind. For whatever reason, maybe it’s the loneliness or the desire that has begun to grow within me about being with someone again, but whatever it is, I find myself sitting in the darkness of my living room completing the personality profile. I figure that the worst case is that somehow it matches me with Todd again if he was still out there and the best case would be that I would meet someone that I liked. I was pretty much convinced that this was not going to lead to anything, but I was feeling ready to be open to the possibility of meeting someone.

Then, I dragged my feet for much for February to buy into the $600 price tag. The secret to e-harmony I found during that time is that the more that you say no to them, the more they email you offers of better pricing until you do finally commit to the weird world of online dating. And so, for $250 and a payment plan, I had finally committed to the Melanie-approved e-harmony where people who are serious about finding a long term committed relationship sign up.

Fairly quickly, I had men messaging me which surprised me because while I did not divulge everything about myself, I did say that I was a widow and that I had three small children. While I knew that this was going to be a lot for me, allowing a new man into my life, I also knew what I was not going to be able to accommodate. I knew I did not want someone who had been married because I did not want to deal with an ex-wife, and I also wanted someone who was going to be new to the marriage game if the relationship went there. I wanted that because in so many ways, I too would be new to the marriage game. I spent so much of my first marriage as a care giver and a provider that I wanted someone who was going to figure out how a marriage was supposed to be, how you take care of each other and figure out what each of your duties were going to be with one another. I didn’t want someone who had a ton of baggage from a failed marriage, but rather someone who was looking forward to finding someone that they wanted to make that kind of commitment to and I them.

I didn’t want someone with kids because I knew it was going to be hard enough with my three kids. I thought that if I dated someone with their own kids, it would just be too much on me and too much on my kids never mind what that meant for the man that I was dating. The Brady Bunch lifestyle was not something that was too appealing to me and even now, I still can’t say that I would want to date someone with kids because you also then have to deal with their mother, and it is not very often that co-parenting situations are amicable especially when it comes to women. Being a widowed mom is hard enough.

And what some of my friends or as I came to call them, my e-harmony tribunal, thought was the most shocking was that I did not want to date someone in education. I had and still have zero interest in dating someone within the same field as me and that is because I wanted someone who could teach me new things and talk about their career and their aspirations that were very different from what you find in the educational system. I did not want every discussion we had to be about school, school politics and the shenanigans that you can often share as a classroom teacher. I am also more conservative than a lot of people in education and therefore knew that politically it would cause conflict as well. I would frequently repeat what I told my mother just after Christmas when she began this e-harmony push: I wanted someone like my grandfather who was moral and conservative, who worked with his hands, but was smart and educated and creative in their own way and enjoyed the outdoors and gardening. Someone who came from a big family and loved his mother but was not a mama’s boy.

The first attempts at taking myself out of a 10 year long relationship was responding to messages from men that did not fit what I knew I was looking for. There was Zach, a man that was about Phil’s age so another eight-year age gap. He also divorced and had two kids, but they were teenagers and he lived nearby. We spent a week talking about movies we liked before it just kind of fizzled. Then there was Shawn, a man who was recently separated from his wife that had been his high school sweetheart and he had a teenage son. He was very nice, but I did not like the fact that he was still married. I did not want to get involved with a married man, even if he was separated and it was also clear that he was still reeling from his wife of 25 years deciding that she didn’t want to be married anymore. I eventually stopped responding because I knew that we weren’t going to go anywhere. Then there was a guy whose name I can not even remember, but he immediately became very pushy with me about meeting me and sent me a picture of his new tattoo and it was one on his hand between his thumb and pointer finger that said, “your throat here.” I immediately blocked him.

I felt myself getting discouraged. I have never had the best dating stories. I often will attract men who have commitment issues and who will date me and want all the good parts of dating me, but when it comes to a conversation about what we are or where we are going, it all just falls to pieces quickly. Before I met my husband, I had spent over a year with Aaron. We got close very fast, but then when I would ask what it was that we were to each other, I would be told that we were friends. It was a constant back and forth. He was too screwed up from his ex-girlfriend getting an abortion behind his back some years before and I was getting fed up with being treated like an option. Ultimately, we became very serious very fast and then broke up just as quickly as it all had changed.

After that, I swore to myself I would never again want to be with a man that wasn’t serious about life and who liked to drink. We both enjoyed a lot of cocktails together and a part during that period of my life. After my husband died and I entered a reflective period, I looked back at the big relationships from my past, including Aaron, and I found out that he had eventually gotten married and had a daughter. I smiled when I saw that because despite his issues, I always knew that he was going to be a good partner and a father, and I was happy that he had finally found someone that made him want to become that man even if that woman wasn’t me. I wished them well.

          In many ways, it was because of Aaron that I chose my husband. I thought that Phil’s nerdiness was safer than choosing a more manly man like Aaron. Phil also was ready to commit to me very quickly and I liked that, there were no games or second guessing, we had gone on a date and saw each other almost every day for two weeks after before we sat in his car after too many beers and declared that we were together. It had been that easy and the rest was history.

          Only now in the haze of grief and letting go of my 10 year long relationship with Phil did I realize how much I missed that sort of masculinity that comes from a more manly man. I wanted someone who would stand up to me and mean it, I wanted someone who could fix things and build things, I wanted someone who loved through providing and protecting. I craved a masculine man in my life and men whining about soon to be ex-wives were not going to cut it.

          “So, are you just replying to men that contact you,” asked Sasha, in her loving but intrusive voice that she has perfected over years of love and friendship.

          “Yeah, of course what else do you do in dating apps?”

          She sighs. “Katherine…YOU can like THEM.” She gives me her Sasha doing Sasha things stare.

          I roll my eyes. “That is just so, I can’t even think about that.”

          “Look if you’re ready to put yourself out there, then really put yourself out there. If you come across someone on here that you like, then send them a like. The worst case is that they will not send you one back, but who cares then? No?”

          I snatch back my phone. “Stop doing Sasha things.”

          She grins. Sasha has been one of my best friends since college and whenever she would come over, some big project always ensued because Sasha is the kind of friend that wants you to do better so she makes you do better even if you’re not in the right mindset to. Phil would call this “Sasha doing Sasha things.” It was the perfect way to describe it and a sentiment that has become part of our friendship lexicon ever since.

          Later that night after I got the kids to bed, I sat again in my dark bedroom looking at e-harmony. I guess she was right because what did it matter if I liked someone and they didn’t like me back, this wasn’t middle school gym anymore. With a soft exhale, I pull up the list of men in my area and I expand it to most of South Jersey, including the shore. Can’t hurt, right?

          I scroll through many profiles that don’t resonate with me. I liked a couple but didn’t really care much as I did it. Then, I swipe into John’s profile. It’s different than other men on the site. All his photos are ones taken of him doing outside things and fishing. There may have been one selfie, but other than that he did not come across as a man that was too into himself. There aren’t any weird ones of him hanging out with a borrowed kid or posing with some weird toy to show how great he may be with kids or how playful he is, something a lot of men do on these sites that I always thought was weird. The only thing that gives me pause is that he has the same name as my high school sweetheart. I laugh at myself, the original John and I had dated through college and out of all of my relationships, it was probably one of the better ones and even to this day, after all of these years, if I were to call him he would pick up and we would catch each other up on our lives as the old friends that I think we always truly were over romantic partners. His parents had even reached out when they had heard that Phil had died and sent my children Christmas gifts that year. They were my adoptive family at a time in my life where my own family was crazy with my parent’s divorce, and I am thankful for the years of Friday night pizza and Saturday night Chinese food that were most of the years of my late teens and early twenties.

          I am most taken by a photo of John standing in a room somewhere in his tool belt. His eyes are very bright in that photo, and they are a piercing blue. They are kind and honest eyes that make me feel very drawn to him which also makes me feel a little uneasy and nervous because this was just a picture of a guy on the internet. I think to myself: this man is going to have absolutely no interest in me with three small kids and a dead husband, but if he likes me back, I would love to talk to him. I hit the like button and put down my phone, unable to stop thinking about the man on the internet with the piercing blue eyes.

          By the next day, he has liked me back and for a moment I sit there staring at the e-harmony prompting of why don’t you message him? Because e-harmony, if he truly liked me then he would have messaged me so we will wait there for Mr. Blue Eyes to sit down and write a message.

          “And? Did you like anyone last night,” Sasha asks over the noise of her car and her daughter. She calls me when she gets out of work to check in and is usually taking her daughter to a practice or whatever else.

          “I did, several of them.” I sit back in my recliner, folding my free arm over my stomach. My kids are playing with mega blocks and completely occupied for the moment.

          “That’s great! I am proud of you. Anyone good stand out?”

          I get quiet. I take a moment. “Promise you’re not going to think I’m weird?”

          She laughs. “Katherine, we have been friends for almost 20 years, I know you’re weird and I love you for it.”

          I smile, she’s right. “So, there was one guy that kind of stood out. He has down to earth photos and even his profile of what he is looking for is normal and there is this one photo I have probably looked at one too many times because his eyes are just, I don’t even know how to describe it and yes, I know it’s weird because it’s an internet person!”

          Sasha is laughing. She knows when I like someone. “Are you guys talking now? Send me a picture, I want to see him.”

          “No, we liked each other.” I text her the picture that I have looked at too many times.

          “Katherine! Message him.” She’s interrupted by her daughter, but she quickly follows up with, “Oh well he’s cute. I get it.”

          “It’s the eyes, right?” I try to hide this weird little swoon thing that I keep catching myself doing. “Well, he can message me. I mean what do I even say?”

          “Hi is a good place to start,” her voice trails off, preoccupied with whatever her daughter is asking.

          She rushes off the phone, mom life is calling and soon it is calling me too.

          Alone again in the darkness of my room, I am staring at my open like from John. I could just message him and say hello, but I keep reminding myself in my head that I am a widow with three kids and who would ever want to deal with all of that? If he really wanted to get to know me then he would message me.

          Two weeks later, he did.

Big Little Lies

This is one of the few times where I watched the show/movie before I read the book. I was about half way through the HBO limited series namely because of my celebrity doppelganger, Reese, was starring in it when I picked up the novel at Target.

I read it within two days. That is, after long hours at both jobs while preparing to present my research for my dissertation next month. Oh, and, take that crazy $400 praxis exam. Life has been a little crazy lately especially when you add in our wedding and selling our townhouse– we’ll recover next year..right?

Big_Little_Lies_Cover

Anyway, despite the insanity, I found myself reading Big Little Lies on my lunch break, in my car waiting for my next class to start and even in bed after these crazy long days. Last night, I read until I literally fell asleep. It’s been awhile since I was just so into a book.

I liked how you knew someone was going to die, but you didn’t know how or why. You learn fairly early on that is it going to be Perry or Celeste because this is the story of domestic violence, wrapped up rather nicely in its white-bread vanilla topping. I was just shocked by the ending, of which one was to die and more importantly, who the killer was and why.

It’s a shock, but in so many ways, it is that shock that up-heaves the vanilla topping and underneath it, you find yourself exposed to the raw chunky violence that as Celeste herself says, “This can happen to anyone.”

It’s a powerful book. I think any young woman needs to read it and then watch the limited series on HBO. It made me think of my own time within an abusive relationship.

I can’t even really say it was a relationship, it was a fleeting moment in my life, thankfully. It was after that big love that I shut down after. He was the first guy I really attempted to date. In many ways, he was the first person I attempted to care about, to actually try with. In the end it lasted only a couple of months. I ended it, I totally cut him out. It took me a few tries to get to that point though, because much like Celeste, it was like I was dating two different people: there was the over indulging side who appeared protective and kind, going out of his way to me and my friends, but then there was that time alone where like a switch that person went away and in his place was someone who enjoyed hurting other people, especially when he felt wronged or embarrassed or betrayed. All of which seemed to happen more in his head than in reality.

There had been hints leading up to his eventual full-turn, but he was good in that he was so manipulative that he would have you second guessing. Was that real? Did he just say or do that? No, he had to be joking because look how sweet he is now, every relationship has its bumps, but maybe this is worth that bump? [it’s not] Abusers are great like that, they are excellent liars because I think to a point, they believe what they are saying and feel entitled to whatever they can steal from someone– materially, physically and emotionally.  It’s almost like they know that they are doing these awful things, but in their minds, they make up for it because they are so amazing for the next week or two before the next bout of abuse. One thing he was always good at, was how quick to tell you what a wonderful, giving person he was even to those that wronged him which largely were women from his past.

When Celeste visits a counselor, she tells her that is takes someone six or seven times before they leave an abusive situation. I believe that. While my experience was relatively short, within that time it took me about three times before I finally did. When I did it, I didn’t even tell him. We had parted ways earlier that day, I knew it was important that he think he still “had” me. He kissed me on my check and asked me if everything was alright, I knew he knew that it wasn’t and that he had taken it to an entirely new level that morning. This was the calm following the storm.

I assured him how wonderful he was, and how wonderful we were, trying not to gag the entire time I did so. He has already revealed himself and I had already found out his other secrets, he was done but he didn’t know how far I knew or how much strength I really had. My next stop was to AT&T where I blocked him from all contact. Then I went straight home and followed suit on social media. I hadn’t even thought about e-mail, because who in 2011 e-mailed anymore? Apparently him. It began so nicely as always, then when I never responded they got nastier and nastier until he dumped me. That was the one piece of humor I got out of the entire ordeal. I had cut all contact, ghosted him for lack of a better word and here he was, after calling me all kinds of names, after threatening me and the like, all he had left was to tell me how it was over and it felt so good to be single. I burst out laughing at that point, because dude, you’d been single for awhile by then.

The next stop was to the printer to print off all of his harassment and then to the police station to finalize my report that I had started several days before.

This really can happen to anyone.

Love is, actually all around.

I make no grand illusions towards my 20’s and dating. Point blank: they sucked. I was often lost, broke and dating some wannabe. That was the majority of my 20’s until I wised up and held true to my standards.

I read a lot during that period in my life. In college, I was obsessed with Mr. Darcy Takes a Wife because I largely envisioned Colin Firth and all of the hot things that occur throughout that insanely long novel. More importantly though, it was the sort of relationship I envisioned for myself when I found the right man to have it with. It was passionate, loyal and brave with such a dedication to the other person that throughout the pages, many dramatic and daring things occurred to keep Lizzy and Darcy together. Though, Phil and I aren’t having dagger fights with scummy period men and riding horses bareback…or really riding horses at all, the sentiment is still there within our relationship.

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Mr. Darcy a la “Lost in Austen.”

When we became engaged, I had no doubt in my mind that yes was the answer and that this is the man I would stay with until death. Having that realization though, made me think back to my past and I became nostalgic for things, people and places that were no longer a part of my life. I also would get sad over some pretty stupid stuff like when my toaster oven from my apartment finally went. It was cheap and we use it a lot, but I was sad that that was another piece of my life before now that was gone. I know, it’s a toaster, get over it, but I did have a couple minutes of mourning over the toaster.

I picked up Mr. Darcy Takes a Wife and thumbed through it. Out fell papers from my first teaching job where I somehow became a french teacher. I laughed, and turned to the front, eager to re-read and picture my new Mr. Darcy courtesy of Lost in Austen. That’s when I saw it. The dedication page. I had never realized it before, because why would I ever have a need to? The author had dedicated it “to Phil.” Years before, I even knew Phil it seems that I was waiting for him.

I made note of it and put the book down, thinking it was just too weird of a coincidence. Fast forward to the weekend where we’re sitting at our church with our priest, formalizing all of the initial paperwork for our marriage. We’re getting married in the Byzantine church so Phil had to have all of this documentation from his Roman catholic church including his confirmation papers. I was half listening because it wasn’t my turn to speak when Phil got to the point of his confirmation name.

“Matthew,” he says to the priest. All of a sudden, I was listening again and laughing to myself.

Of course it would be. I spent so much of my early to mid-20’s subconsciously dating idiots because I had loved someone named Matthew. I told Phil about it later, over lunch. And just like Phil will always do, he took my hand and told me,

“You were just waiting for me like I was waiting for you. See, you knew it would be a Matthew, you were just wrong about which one. ”

Living the life and the love I have now, just makes me realize how much of us was actually already all around me until the universe knew the timing to finally let us meet.