Tag Archives: Divorce

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TikTok

I woke up on Tuesday morning having slept really well to a TikTok by James Sexton regarding lesbian divorces characterized by knock down drag out fighting and prior Domestic Violence experiences. My initial reaction was “WTF?”

Then I realized that my GF had sent it for a reason, so I obtained a white paper and found out that due to intersectionality–being female and having less financial power and sometimes more impact on ability to achieve stability alongside being a sexual minority causes pain. Pain has to go somewhere. Researchers assumed that this intersectionality puts pressure in the female couple dyad.

It made me feel awful.

My divorce wasn’t amiable. She always told me that we had no foundation, and that was true.

I loved her for years and my love wasn’t enough. We got married when my son was in 3rd grade.

My Mom shattered her shoulder weeks after we had wed and my parents were both already declining. My son went off the deep end in 6th grade after his father had a breakdown and moved states at the end of 5th grade. Everyone was crumbling around me and I had no way to be enough or help significantly anyone who needed me. Nothing could become proactive or stable. Decline was all around us.

My ex-wife and I both have tendencies toward being reactive. It was a recipe for contention, but not physical violence. I’m glad that our marriage is over. I had filed once in 2019 and she had me reverse the filing. She filed in 2022 and became biromantic with men and is now married to a man and is living out of the country.

My GF and I went back and forth DMing in TikTok because she has it was “interesting” and “seemed to support” why my divorce was difficult from my ex-wife and not really from my ex-husband.

The whole thing was grossly oversimplified.

And I found it hurtful.

Last night we talked about it and she told me that she found it hurtful that I didn’t see how interesting it was and applied to my divorce. She said that we sometimes arrive at an impasse.

My GF is one of those women who is kind, caring and tends toward helping everyone out. I think that sometimes because she assumes positive intent, she doesn’t know how some of her assertions land.

I felt judged. I was hurt. I told her last night on our date that I want to feel safe, seen and secure. She said that she wanted that too. She was upset with me for not seeing why she sent me that particular TikTok.

I got up really early today. I didn’t sleep well because my new love interest who I was supposed to meet tomorrow had to fly abroad for work and will be gone two weeks. I misunderstood when her flight would get in and thought that it would be this morning in my time zone, but it will be late afternoon today. I shouldn’t have slept with my cell phone near me!

Because my GF and I had a date last night and were still talking about this difference of opinion, I went ahead and thought about the situation again. I still find it odd that she sent it to me and thought it would be helpful to me. Having conflict about TikTok is really weird.

I DM’ed:

“So, I watched it again and even through afterglow [dosage of psilocybin on Thursday night] it seems to say that lesbians have knock down drag out endings and high DV rates. Sorry, I don’t understand why you sent it to me. I’m just trying to be a good person and GF. I am also willing to slow down, monitor reactions that I have, and ask more questions for information. Making assumptions or jumping to conclusions [something that I have to continuously work on] doesn’t seem to result in abusive fights or domestic violence in my experience.”

So, she’s upset. And I’m less upset, but don’t see why that was the one that she chose to send to me.

Except for some animal videos, I don’t particularly like TikTok. If I can get my book designed, I will probably use it for my content, and it doesn’t seem to matter now because she hasn’t sent me anything on it since Tuesday at 1:06 am.

How can I reframe this problem? I don’t see my individual therapist for 12-days and would love feedback. It helps me to write and it also helps for people who read my entry to comment.

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Former

I don’t have any original family. My brother was killed in 1988 by a drunk driver. My Dad died in 2020. My Mom died in 2021. I have my son, and he doesn’t live with me. I am a Solo.

When I was staging the house a year ago–how could that have only been a year ago?–I bought two items from the Thrift Store.

One was a heavy wrought iron side table with a wicker top. The other was a table just slightly higher with an almost square tiled top, but I don’t think that the legs are solid. It’s wrought iron too and easier to heft around. Not if you lay it on it’s side with other things in a small SUV. Anyway, LA accidentally broke the tile top on the table!

Broken top

I had been gifted a tile from one of my friends from the co-ed discussion group that I attend when I’m not bowling. I hadn’t hung it; although, it has a loop embedded in the back. As he’s the artist, I paid him $100 as a retainer after asking if he could arrange it with other tiles on the table top so I could use the table.

He told me a month later that he didn’t have the executive functioning skills to get it arranged and done. When I was picking the broken top up from him, the tile broke off in two pieces which was great. Now, I had the board, which fits the table.

I went to Design Center for contractors having spoken to one of the women who worked in the tile gallery. She had lunch leftover and I had a wonderful sandwich. She didn’t have any square tiles. However, she had two large tiles that were beautiful. They’re very heavy too. One of the designers couldn’t use these anymore as the manufacturer has discontinued the tile. I got them for free!

I started thinking about design

I figured that I would check out a tile saw from the non-profit that we have in our city. I was texting off and on with my former sister-in-law about my idea for a cool table top. I mentioned that I would be using the non-profit. Her wife said that the non-profit has shitty tools. She said that she had all the things that I would need, and she’d help me make a new table top.

I’ve had to store things in my basement for almost a month!

I went over to my former sister-in-law’s house late afternoon yesterday. I gave her a giant hug. I gave her file folders which had been stored in a filing cabinet that’s in the closet in my office. The files had drawings and pictures that had been labelled by my former mother-in-law.

She said, “That’s my mother’s handwriting.” I said, “It’s all _______’s.” I told her that it would be good things for her twin’s celebration of life next month too. There were pictures of all three sisters in those files. It was emotional.

We talked for half-an-hour while her wife was getting everything ready for the project. Then her wife was super hungry so we went to dim sum. I got to know her much better at dinner. I’d met her briefly in July of 2022 when she and my sister-in-law arrived at my house to move out all of my ex-wife’s possessions. Now, I know her.

I’ll call her AR. She competent, direct, and quirky. She also is able to build and fix anything.

It was really late when we got back to their house. She started with a level and pencil. She found stored black grout. She’s making the top for me in exchange for dinner at dim sum. I’m not comfortable with that, so she’s also taking $100 and spending it on my son’s cousins. I may not be part of their family anymore, but I want their friendship and my son still considers all of them his family. Former or not, they’re wonderful humans.

Image by OurWhisky Foundation from Pixabay
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Memory

I did wind up hanging out with the doctoral group at the bar last night. I was the only one from our group who sang though. Energy was ok and I guess I’ll be a designated driver for the cardiologist’s friend next Saturday to go dancing. She is fun. She didn’t sing though, but was supportive to me. The nice guy came and stayed almost two hours and sang. He’s amazing. There is a nice blond woman who will be a friend to me too that came last night. The Social Butterfly came and was supportive. I sang two songs and did well with both.

I’m not going to write about karaoke this morning.

I had a dream about a pickleball tournament. You had to race sports cars to get to the tournament. I was in a blue one with my son and it was really difficult to drive. I was finally able to get it to the venue that also had a lodge. My son and I had some trouble deciding where to set up in the big room that we shared with other tournament contenders, but decided that there were so many windows that all spaces for the bed would be good. When we got out of the room, an orange compact Prius pulled up and my ex-wife was in the back of it and got out. Then her twin sisters got out and, finally, her mother. I knew that we’d have to hug and talk and was surprised, but ultimately neutral.

My ex-husband told me that dreams are downloads. I guess that is true, but there is meaning in them too. My ex-wife’s former neighbor at the condo that she bought dropped off some art that she had in her condo. My ex-wife was always redecorating, rearranging and reappropriating things from rooms. I didn’t get the door because I was in the basement and my colleague’s daughter was upstairs. I figured that my ex-wife was in town emptying her condo. I told my son that was likely the case and asked if he would like to see and call her. He called her right away when we were driving to the Post Office needing to weigh his returns to make sure that he didn’t need extra postage. She answered right away and said she wasn’t in town, but sold her condo and was getting out family heirlooms. He said that he would call her later and I think that they talked last night. I’m glad he’s in touch with her. She did a lot of parenting of him.

Image by 愚木混株 Cdd20 from Pixabay

I had a good run of activities and socializing with my days off of work. I feel pretty solid about where I am going with my life and what I am doing with it. I have a busy morning. I think that I’ll wake up my son now and ask him to please clean the kitchen that he left a mess and walk the dogs with me. Then I’m going to make Trader Joe’s hashbrowns in the oven and some homemade chicken quesadillas. I’ll do my weight machines at the gym and he can get cleaned up. Then I’m going to my Boss’ birthday party and will do what I never do and that’s talk to all kinds of new people. I want to get some pre-arranged dates in the queue.

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April Fool’s Day

The wind died down! Woo-hoo. It was so depressing. I still was able to walk 230,460 steps for March, which was good for me as of late. I bike a ton so often that’s why my step count is lower. January and February were so trying for me because I couldn’t really cycle much. I had never truly known how much of my self-care is wrapped up in riding my bike. I have this thing wherein I like my walking and cycling to add up to more hours than being in a car. I failed miserably last month:

I had a bunch of fun with my friend yesterday at lunch. I drank two IPAs. I had the best charred chicken wings ever too. I told her that I have a goal of love for others. She said, “Like polyamory?” I answered in the affirmative. She said, “What if you meet an incredible woman and she wants you to be hers exclusively?” I told her that I would say that she is a great woman and if that is what she wants she deserves someone to feel that same way about her and build something exclusive together. When I have just written out what she asked me, my stomach truly turned the strong, black coffee that I consume every morning. There is something revolting to me about possession of a person.

I do think that marriage is a great idea. When I got married in 2014, I wanted two egos in the house–as I am forever seeking balance and have it tattooed on right bicep–to help raise my son well. She did so many things for him. I really hope that if he does get done with high school midway through next month that he calls and tells her. I would have stay married to her too; although, like I told my friend yesterday, she did wind up crying 3-4 days inconsolably weekly in the last year that she lived with me. She struggles with health and wellness. I wish her well, and am grateful to her that I finished my doctorate with her help. She will get $82,500 for it, and then I will consider our chapter completely written.

I don’t want to remarry. I don’t want to cohabitate. I also truly believe that I can be in love with 2-3 women concurrently. My friend was obviously intrigued by how that could be. I told her that I had 15-years of my writing, so it’s not like a new concept to me. Speaking of which, look what I found this week:

“I wonder if I can be very attracted to several girls at once,” as written by ______ on January 17, 2013. That’s because I always am. So, as I wrote about in March as written by the brilliant screenwriter Cameron Crowe, “So what’s love?” To me it’s being moved mind, body and soul. The soul thing is consuming and pervasive. I’ve felt in twice in my life. One lasted a few months and another lasted years. I’m fine with no sex until those three conditions are met.

My friend recommended “Attached” and there are 22 holds, so I used gift cards and ordered it. I can bike to pick it up tomorrow. I’ll give it to someone after I read it. Obviously, people are wrestling with their attachments if there are currently 22 active holds.

My colleague who almost died is in FL as I mentioned and we have her daughter. Her daughter is a year younger than my son and lightyears more advanced emotionally. I don’t know why. Anyway, she talked to me last night about her attachment to her mother and how mother-daughter relationships are complicated. Mine really wasn’t. My Mom and I only fought when she told me that I was putting on heirs going to my first round of graduate school. We weren’t the same after that, but we still had a foundation and she was my touchstone and safe point. I know that she wasn’t a treat to come out to, but we had an uncomplicated foundation that is difficult to completely explain.

I sang on Thursday and some members of my doctoral group and the nice guy from work and his girlfriend and I are singing tonight. I called the dance studio and no one is there until Monday. I may drop in there on Monday. I don’t work very much on Monday anyway. My son and my colleague’s daughter practiced a little bit last night and we taught her some chords. She has an electric guitar at home. I was so grateful that she entertained my son last night. I was also grateful that my son’s Dad went through his Federal and State returns and found an exclusion for tax rate because someone claims him as a dependent. I am looking forward to my Boss’ birthday party tomorrow. Her sister is an artist and has a huge poly community. I’ll definitely be chatting with her!

Finally, I read an article in the US version of “International Business Times” about April Fool’s Day. It likely started when folks migrated from the Gregorian calendar to the Julian calendar. There have been several types of spring jest as well. Sometimes sending someone on a fool’s errand or dressing up to make fun of the powerful is part of April Fool’s Day. All of those historical reference points seem good for a night doing karaoke with physicians and professors!

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Seasonal Anger

I process so slowly. It takes me forever to understand 1) impact and 2) what has truly gone on. I had met my ex-wife through a friend. Saying that I was obsessed with her by looking at her profile is more accurate, actually.

I spent about 18-months being stoned. I had a ton of issues turning 30, so I told a friend that I needed to get high. He said, “You won’t get high the first time that you smoke.” So, I told him that I was starting tonight–at 29, and I did. I got high with my Dad at my 30th birthday party, and it was the first time that I got stoned; although, I’d smoked probably a dozen times. Then, I didn’t do it much any longer.

When I was about 34, I was high for 18-months after I got home from work, and my son with his Dad. Then I had a terrible incident at a conference and didn’t smoke again. In this incident, I took one hit too many and had to crawl into one of the bathtubs. When the dominoes would hit the table in the front of the condo where we were staying, I felt like they were hitting me. I was awful. I don’t smoke or use. It’s legal now, as are some psychedelics. At times, I drink a lot of beer, and I do like Red Zin, but I don’t do any drugs–pot because of paranoia, and mushrooms because there is something that triggers my risk averse nature when I ponder that currently. Right place, right time, maybe.

Anyway, I saw a picture of my ex-wife while I was stoned. While high, I was with my friend whose sister with whom I’d gone to high school. We would open up Facebook and take turns logging in. The game is “Gay or Straight?” You play it stoned. She scrolled through my ex-wife’s profile.

“Straight.”

“Nope.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. Her? This picture? Nice, hot. Are you fucking with me?”

“I am not.”

“When do I meet her?”

“You don’t.”

“What do you mean?”

“She has stayed where we went to college. She has a whole community. She won’t ever leave the Northwest.”

“When does she visit?”

“Rarely. It’s been years. Honestly, no one hears from her much. We were high school best friends and college roommates.”

“I don’t care. When she does visit, I’ll meet her. We’ll date.”

*sigh / eye rolls / puff*

2012 – 37-years-old

She’s laying on a couch in a sun dress and gets up to meet me at her other best friend’s house. She had moved home five-months earlier. She smiles, sits up, walks toward me and shakes my hand. Beautiful: red hair, subtle make-up (it’s afternoon) and gray-blue eyes. I leave after an hour having gotten kicked out before ensuring that my friend will be able to get a ride back to her apartment because I drove.

We maintain an awkward friendship. She has a girlfriend. She always has a girlfriend. We eat some meals together, play cards, hang out with her girlfriend, and other times her mother and her mother’s boyfriend. She eats quiche at my house; she plays with my son. I hug hello and goodbye and keep my abdomen away from hers for a friendly hug, but I still embrace her tightly. Sometimes, I blush and other times my heart races a little, but with a girl like her, you don’t do anything weird. They break up and she dates, and I start dating the artist.

Right before I meet the artist, I go to my ex-mother-in-law’s house and have dinner there, and my ex-wife is crying because she is getting back with a woman who is polyamorous, in love with her ex, and likes to go to clubs to pick up multiple women, and gets upset that my ex-wife isn’t down for sex with women that they pick up and don’t know. She is crying and crying. I eat my salad, give her a hug, say goodbye to her mother and her mother’s boyfriend. The next weekend, I go to a wedding in a khaki skort, tank top that is at least embroidered, and black sandals with a heel. My friend says, “Why are you dressed casual?” This incredibly attractive brown haired woman with hazel eyes is kinda leering around my friend and I and she says, “Introduce me.” I hear it. My friend does. Later in the night, I hear my friend (she’s from Brooklyn) say “Don’t you think that I would have told you that I started dating a woman?!?!?!?” So, the artist pulls me out to dance and dances with me and on me. She can’t lead though, so it’s pretty awkward. She and I date for a couple of months, but don’t have sex. She is imbalanced and has pretty significant mental illness; although, she is gorgeous. She painted two pictures for me for my 39th birthday and they hang in my bathroom. Now, she lives in the mountains and is a mayor.

I start emailing with my ex-wife. We make plans over the course of a week and half through email. We were making dinner in her apartment that she called the treehouse. It had a separate entrance and was a large loft type of residence attached to a large house west of our city. We cook and we make out for two-hours. I go home soaring with emotion and arousal. I don’t want to have sex with her. I want to date her.

She has other plans. She wants to come down in two-days and do just what I think is too soon. I buckle. It was really good. She moves in with me three-months after that. We marry 7-months later. We never learn to resolve conflict. We knew each other ten-years, we were together for nine, and married for eight. I am pissed.

I’m angry about all the time that she would tell me that I get remote and blame me for absolutely everything in terms of our conflict. I talked to my best friend on Friday night and she said, “You worked and worked and worked on that–tirelessly. I think that you did absolutely everything that you could.” Even if that’s not true, I don’t miss all the imbalance. Move in with your Mom, move in with your sister, buy another residence, adopt more pets. Have 17 different jobs over the course of 10-years. Talk about conflicts at work over and over and over, freeze out your sister, fly home suddenly after “not feeling supported by” your Mom.

This June, I loved it when she finally moved out for good and we had a real fight. Not one in which I get quiet–I’m terrified by my temper–but one in which I told her how bizarre it was that she brought a man into our house (She has her own residence, but has a tenant.) and watched movies with him in the spare bedroom. “He didn’t touch your things.” “What? It’s my house!” “It’s mine too!” She never contributed to this mortgage, and has had her own since October of 2020; however, she made us refi together in 2014 which reduced the interest rate on this house and took 2-years off the mortgage. My ex-wife is really good with money and has good math and business sense. She could not see how disrespectful it was to have a date where my son and I sleep, and that I pay for, instead of going to coffee, a movie or a park with a man you met on the Internet. Talk about not seeing your part! That gelled it for me. I’ll never speak to her again. And, I am angry. Probably hurt too, and wonder if she ever truly loved me or if she was just doing what she knew her mother wanted her to, and liked the first couple years of really hot sex.

  1. I like a little bit of danger
  2. I like women who are more social than I am
  3. I want to have consistency
  4. I want to make a plan, and stick to that plan
  5. I want contact with a purpose
  6. In conflict, I want to take a break, come back and be accountable for things that I can change
  7. I want to grow
  8. I want to see what it’s like to be in love with at least two people concurrently
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Poor Life Choices

I’m facing the postscript music of too many beers and a large shot of Patron Silver this morning. Danced and sang. There was one really pretty girl in the bar who seemed to be having a first date that was going well. My friend did a duet with a really tall dark haired pretty girl which was fun to watch, and that girl took my friend’s number but lives elsewhere and is going through a divorce.

Something that I find cool about karaoke in general is that folks who are not striking have the most captivating voices. Every night you go, there is true talent. I bought a girl a shot. She was AMAZING. I just drank too much and feel like shit today. No drinks for T Day and none for a week to give my body a break. I usually crack a beer when I cook, but can’t stomach that idea at all.

I just have to bring beer and make brussels sprouts for my cousin’s shindig today, so it’s a low lift for me. Last year was my Mom’s last holiday. I did my usual cook up a storm for the family and brought food to the receptionist at the Nursing Home. I also made a big plate for the driver for my Mom from the Nursing Home to my house. Life had a rhythm that has changed since my parents died. Last Thanksgiving we sang, played piano, guitar and drummed and my Mom was lucid and happy. There are lots of pictures. I’ve sent the picture of her sister, her in her wheelchair with me and my son to lots of people. I’m glad that my ex wife had discharged from a crisis unit the day before Thanksgiving last year and took that shot and many other pictures. My Mom died at 2 am six-days after Thanksgiving.

Last night, the bar owner belted “The Story,” which was apropos because my son and I had just listened to “Bear Creek” on Tuesday together. I played a few other songs too. I just realized why I got so sullen listening to “The Eye” by Brandi Carlile. It’s because my ex wife was just a year ago completely suicidal and barely discharged for Thanksgiving. Terrifying. I miss things for sure, but not much over the last three years. I can look at pictures of us now wherein we’d always place our heads together in the same position for a pic at a trailhead, on a mountain, on a beach, in a forest, park or in some urban setting outside walking around. I can look at those easily. We had some really good times. Caring for someone with significant mental illness is so trying and drowns out those other good memories if you don’t explore them. Like the picture of my Mom last Thanksgiving, I’m glad that I have pictures of my ex-wife and I enjoying life in moments in time outdoors.

Even with lots of water last night and early morning, I am really dehydrated. I’m almost done with my coffee and nowhere near my normal pee quota. On Mondays, because we’re squished right now at work while a program relocates next fall, I have to interrupt other people working, teaching, presenting, and meeting because I have to pee out coffee and cross over other rooms to get to the bathroom. Sucks. Right now, I am obviously just absorbing the liquid. Time to shower, do a full body weights routine and drink as many glasses of whey that I can. Later, I’ll nest a couple of eggs and oven two Trader Joe’s hash browns, and if that doesn’t cure the hangover, I hope turkey and fixings does.