The Dishy Divorcee | Finding strength after the emotional betrayal of loving a Sex Addict

August 25, 2012
by Dishy Divorcee
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Brutality of Modern Dating Part 2

By now, we’ve met and discarded Chad #1. He was a player, even in the best of intentions. I’m sad because I liked his personality. He was funny, cute and a challenge. Problem was, he lacked the desire for an actual relationship.

Is it possible to find the entire package in today’s modern world of dating? Here’s my criteria:

He must be quick-witted.
He must have higher than average intelligence.
He must be affectionate.
He must like sex with women. Remember the gay cover guy?
He must make the first move.
He must WANT to meet in person. I’m not into pen pals.
He must have a good job.
He must be able to connect on an emotional level.
And yes, he must be attractive.

Door opens and in walks Chad #2.

Chad #2 may just be the complete package. I’ve fallen in like with the guy and we haven’t even met. This is a potential problem, because when I get this interested before meeting, I’m almost always set up for failure. I know; I really should be more positive, but well, sometimes you can only be disappointed so many times before “the secret” goes in one ear and out the other.

Chad is sexy, smooth and charming. His text flirting makes me smile. It also makes me leery. We start the 20-question game. You know, I text a question, he responds, then it’s my turn to answer. We start out pretty safe: what are your top 3 traits? Are you a dog or cat person? Pepsi or Coke?

It quickly turns more intimate – he asks me “what turns you on?”

Red flag, red flag… I start to panic. Is this guy another player? My heart can’t take more hurt. 30 minutes goes by – I don’t answer the question. I’m bummed, because in my head I’m already judging his behavior – he wants to flirt via text, meet in person to see if there is a mutual spark, and if it’s there – pass directly to the bed.

“Hello? Where’d ya go?” He texted.

Crap. “I’m here! Kissing is always a turn on.” Safe, I know.

But I decide to tell it like it is… and follow with, “Look, I gotta protect myself. I’ve been taken by a couple of players in the last year. They only wanted sex. Including a guy who was married. I’m a little nervous about true intentions – just throwin’ it out there. My heart can’t take crazy. So if you’re just looking for a hook up, I’m not your gal. I know you said “relationship”, but so did they.”

There was a long pause.

And then came the response: “I’m not into that cheap crap. I have integrity. I have been cheated on before and vowed I’d never get involved with someone who has cheated. Not all guys are the same, just like I believe not all women are the same. I have two young daughters to look after. If I wanted to hook up, I would hit the local bar and not bother with the online stuff.”

Yep, I like him even more. Double crap. There was a lull in communication, and then he hit me with the following:

“Not to flatter myself, by I can get sex anywhere. I’m not looking for sex; I’m looking for a relationship.”

Triple crap. He can get sex anywhere? Is he a God? If so, I’m out of the realm of possibilities. Now I’m not worried he’s a player, I’m worried I don’t stand a chance. I’m just a 5 foot 2 inch girl – concentrated awesomeness, yes, – but not sure I can handle Mr. I-Can-Get-Sex-Anywhere.

Just keeping’ it real,

The Dishy

August 13, 2012
by Dishy Divorcee
2 Comments

The Brutality of Modern Dating Part 1

I hate feeling uncertain; that feeling of zero control. It’s a childhood problem that stems from a fear of flying. You know, the idea that you’re coasting along at 35,000 feet, with no safety net? It scares the crap out of me.

I feel the same way about modern dating. These days, you don’t wait for a phone to ring, you wait for a frickin’ text. It’s mindless agony. The entire time you’re waiting; said person either drops off the face of the earth or flat-out rejects you entirely.

I’d like to share a couple of modern dating stories; both men happen to be named Chad.

Chad #1 hails from the big city. He sells “air” for a living. No, I’m not kidding. He sells regional television advertising for a major broadcast company. He is, by all standards, funny, cute and entirely too persuasive. Did I mention he sells air?

Chad #1 and I have been on three dates. The first date started at high-volume bar and restaurant where we discovered we both like beer and wings. It’s rare that I feel an instant connection, both emotionally and physically. I found that talking to Chad was easy and he wasn’t bad on the eyes. In fact, we talked until 1:00 am. He kept me entertained and challenged me in a corny, but cute way. It was as if we had the same sense of humor – we got each other. When the date ended, he walked me to my car, and confidently said, “I’m going to kiss you now.” There was no saying “no”, not that I thought to dissuade the guy. After our kiss, Chad walked to his vehicle without looking back – it was a cocky, I’m-going-to-make-you-think-about-me move. And, in fact, I thought about him for the next three days – while waiting. When I did hear from him, his text message seemed distant. He claimed he’d been busy with work.

We eventually did go out again and our 2^nd date went further than I wanted it to go. It was clear that Chad was interested in sex, and not sure he wanted anything more. He made the comment, “at our age, given the fact that we’re divorced and already have kids, why not take pleasure where you can get it?” His casual comments bothered me. I felt used and cheap.

The next day, I texted Chad; “I’m worth more than a booty call and I don’t do casual. Good luck.”

He texted back, “Hey, I really like you – you’re a smart, funny, attractive lady.” To me, it sounded like; relax baby, chill – it’s all good.

In response, I deleted his contact information.

But… 2 months later, I get a sudden text from Chad. “How are you? I ran across your cell number and was wondering if you ever found what you’re look for…”

Well, we all know I haven’t found what I’m looking for, not even close – and I’m lonely. I responded favorably and we made plans to see each other again. You see, I may have judged him too quickly; after all, he hadn’t forgotten me. I guess the “take pleasure where you can get it guy” liked me more than I initially thought. After all, Chad still thought about “us” nearly eight weeks later. I took this as a good sign.

We went for a bike ride at a state park and hit it off. We were flirty-fun all the way. Hot and sweaty, the attraction was obvious. And… wait for it…the next day he disappeared again.

My dates, including the ones with Chad, have come to fruition through internet sites. Let me preface – I still have hope for online dating, but it is a crap-shoot, because first of all, people treat you differently when they’re sitting behind a computer or smart phone. You’re not a “real” person and so they are brutal in their opinions, they often make up stories and usually misrepresent themselves.

Ahhhh modern dating – I started out as one of the honest ones. When I got an email from a 60-year-old man with a farmer’s tan, white socks with black sandals, sporting a wife-beater shirt and holding a Big Mouth Bass from the nearby fishing hole, I was nice. I’d send a note, “Thank you for your interest in me. Good luck with your search.” In other words, I let them down easy and took the time to acknowledge them.

But it all got to be too much and eventually I ignored 3 out of 4 messages or “winks” that I received online. I’ve behaved indifferently to many of the men I’ve dated. The gay cover guy, Mr. No Personality; I did exactly what Chad did to me (sans intimacy). I simply dropped off – no text, no contact. Most likely leaving them to wonder – WTH? Bottom line, disappointing someone else is relatively easy when all you have to do is send a text.

Which leads me to the question: are there honest people on internet dating sites? And why aren’t there texting rules for dating?

Stay tuned for Chad #2.

Keepin’ it real,

The Dishy

August 3, 2012
by Dishy Divorcee
2 Comments

God knows the truth. This I believe.

The one thing that has gotten me through the last two years, is my belief that there is a higher, all-knowing, power in the universe. That, through all the negative fighting, finger-pointing and insults, someone out there knows all – the truth.

I’m not perfect. I’ve made plenty of mistakes. I’ve played the part of the victim and I’ve made selfish decisions based on what I thought I deserved. Basically, I’ve felt sorry for myself. I think being betrayed by your spouse allows for some of that behavior, don’t you?

But that’s where it stops. I tried to mimic the motto: be better, not bitter. I’ve failed this mantra several times. I’ve found myself splurging on things I’d never consider in the past, a spur-of-the-moment vacation with a girl friend, Botox (yes, I tried it), a shopping spree at Macy’s. You might be thinking, what’s wrong with that? Well, its wrong when you have 3 kids to support and your disposable income does not allow the high-end designer shoes, the chemical peel or the fancy bottle of wine.

It was my way to medicate. It caused problems. I got behind on the day care expenses. You see, I was paying for everything. The ex, Jack, didn’t have an income. We had purchased a joint business together right before the economy crashed, in 2008, before the separation / sex-addict announcement. For the first 18 months of the business, we agreed that Jack would not pull an income. The plan was to put the money back into the business. However, with the state of the economy, that 18 months turned into 4 years, 3 months, 12 days…. And oh, 32 minutes.

Because Jack didn’t have an income, the medical, child care and basic living expenses fell on my shoulders. One more situation I grew to resent. So… when the bonus came around each year, momma got a new iPad, vacation, etc. I’m not proud.

My ex husband has done some pretty awful things. Most recently a rant about how selfish I am, how I can’t control my finances, that we are $4,000 in the hole because I didn’t keep up with the child care costs. He called me “a pathetic excuse for a mother, an embarrassment to our children, immature and a martyr”. Yes, I know – Pot, meet Kettle.

Getting back to that higher power… In the midst of the rant, I become confused. Who is right and who is wrong (between my ex and I)? I start to question who is the better person. And when feel this way, I think, am I CRAZY?

But God knows the truth. It may take the next 40 years (hopefully), before I face the proverbial pearly gates, but I hope beyond measure that the big Guy will take one look at the script of my life and say, “You did good. And you handled it well.”

And, if I’m so lucky, he’ll add, “and Jack is gonna get a talkin’ to”.

I still have problems with self-worth. Spending money is medication when I feel sad or alone. This is normal. I have to continuously remind myself that this situation isn’t just about Jack and I. It’s about our kids. Their college education, eventual braces, school trips, and never-ending sports equipment are more important than anything I need or want.

I must remember.

Just keepin’ it real,

The Dishy

August 2, 2012
by Dishy Divorcee
1 Comment

Is Bachelor #14 Gay? And am I his “beard”?

That’s me, I guess. I went on a date a few weeks ago. The guy, who I’ll call John, reached out via an online dating site. His introductory email was well thought out: I was intrigued.

We met at a local restaurant for a glass of wine, and maybe, if-there-was-a-spark, dinner. With online dating, one never commits to more than “a beverage” or “an appetizer”… and NEVER a full night of events such as dinner and a movie. There is an unspoken escape route between two online, would-be lovers. It’s a mutual thing and I’ve learned to not take it personally.

Anyway, John and I met on a sunny patio for a glass of Pino Grigio. He was very well kept and cute in a Michael J Fox kind of way. His hair was perfect. He wore pressed khakis and a tight polo that emphasized his trim physique. My immediate reaction? I could snap him like a twig.

My friends have been reminding me to NOT make quick judgements, so I drank my Pino, exhaustively slow; and listened to him prattle on about his job, kids, house, and the sister’s brother’s in-laws who happen to have a cabin in the Iron Range. I was blurry eyed by the time he finished. I waited for him to ask – “How about you?”

Nope.

We went for a walk along the river, after the wine and a shared plate of calamari – this is much further than I thought the date would go. He grabbed my hand and it felt nice, comfortable. Before I knew it, we’d arrived back at our cars, where he placatingly offered a grandmotherly peck on my lips (no tongue, no lingering) and asked me over for dinner the following night for his specialty: Cajun Shrimp Linguini with a Butter Cream Sauce.

Dazed, I said yes.

I arrived at his remarkably tidy home the following night. He ushered me to a seat at a mid-modern wood table – very chic, with rolled up linen napkins and sparkling wine glasses – not at all like my lip stick smeared, water stained variety at home. John was at ease in the kitchen, wearing another set of pressed khakis and a weird spandex-like white polo. The food was delish.

After dinner, we sat on the couch – no touching, but he did ask me to a family wedding in August. Yes, I thought that was odd; step 1, wine; step 2, linguine; step 3, attend a family wedding together. Why not?

“Wanna see some family photos?” He asked.

“Um, sure?”

I followed him up to his room, yes, bedroom. But I didn’t sense that it was a ploy or trick to get me in the sack. I awkwardly sat on his bed while he pulled out six plump photo albums from the inner reaches of his immaculate walk-in closet.

I figured I’d get comfortable. I kicked off my flip-flops and sprawled across the end of the bed. I looked good in my short-shorts and v-neck tee. I mean, what hetero man wouldn’t want that?

The Year 1972

We started with the album dated 1972.

“That’s me as a baby. That’s my uncle Jack. He was always buying us gifts. That’s Aunt Bea – she’s just the sweetest lady.” He got all excited. “Oh, that’s me, check out my outfit!” He laughed. Yes, he was introducing me to every member of his family and pointing out how they’d aged over the last 4 decades.

The night ended, after viewing swim team photos from 1985 – 1992, with another motherly-peck on the lips. This time, I lingered. I wanted to see if he’d show some excitement, some passion. He backed away, rather quickly, and said, “I can’t wait to see you again.”

My “I’m so cute” feeling faded fast. This guy was either blind to my sexual charm or he had zero interest in me romantically. My only guess was that he needed a “masquerade” for the family wedding. But why didn’t he just ask? Or more importantly, embrace his sexual orientation? I don’t know for sure, but the guy had to be gay, right?

I’m still trying to figure this one out. Any thoughts? Just keepin’ it real, The Dishy

July 28, 2012
by Dishy Divorcee
0 comments

Co-Dependency – don’t box me in.

Co-dependency. Just the word makes me shiver. I hate the idea of being co-dependent on anything or anyone. When I turned 18 and graduated from college, I was the girl who couldn’t wait to leave home and move out of my town; population 20,000. I went to a college that no one else in my family had attended. Why? I didn’t want to follow in their footsteps. In fact, my siblings all took Spanish – Me? I took French.

Je nais sais quoi.

www.karenmcmahon.com

I HATE the word co-dependency. So, when I started doing research on sex addicts and their co-dependent spouses, I literally felt my butt cheeks clinch. I was NOT dependent on anyone, least of all my sex addicted husband.

In the beginning, everyone recommended a therapy group for sex addiction co-dependents. I ran in the opposite direction. When I researched the organization COSA, I cringed at how they placed us all in a box. Had we allowed our spouses to carry on with the addiction? Did I turn a blind eye? Was I some pansy who let a guy walk all over me for thirteen years?

Everything I read put the wife / spouse in a simpering, poor-me role. Women couldn’t face losing their husbands, so they literally ignored the obvious. My husband is hanging out with prostitutes? No way he isn’t!

I don’t think I ignored the obvious. I just didn’t QUESTION it. You see living with a narcissistic sex-addict is a total mind game. And he was a master. If I asked where he was or why he was late? He’d put on one of two faces: the surprised, “what do you mean? I’m working my butt off for you and this family, how can you ask where I am?” or the arrogant; “you want us to be successful, right? I have a plan; in 10 years we’ll be set for life.”

As a dutiful girl, raised by Catholics, and dedicated stand-by-your-spouse-no-matter-what parents, I trusted him. Because, who in their right mind, would hurt someone with such sly deliberation?

Now, before I get the therapists sending me nasty grams, I’ve come to learn that he hid this problem for 42 years and from everyone in his family. It was obviously a mental problem, or a self-destructive disease. …Or it was just his selfish ways… when life got too stressful, instead of emotionally connecting with me, he physically connected with other women.

As a co-dependent (cringe), I didn’t question things, because it was easier than knowing the truth. I could pretend he was an honest, dedicated husband. But I knew if I dug deep, I’d find out the opposite.

I still have a long way to go in understanding my co-dependency; so many stones uncovered. Hang in there with me…

What are your thoughts on co-dependency?

Just keeping’ it real,

The Dishy

December 29, 2011
by Dishy Divorcee
2 Comments

A cautionary tale of online dating

A friend warned me earlier this year about post-divorce dating. He said that during the first year, most people madly attempt to secure their next “relationship” for fear of being alone. This DOES NOT apply to me. I don’t search for the opposite sex in an unhealthy way; unless you count being on three different dating sites over the last 6 months unhealthy.

Okay, maybe I have a problem.

I can shamefully admit I’m 0-8 in the dating game. I know, some of you who’ve read my blog might have thought my absence meant I’d struck gold in the romance department. Nada! Nope, nothing, zip, zero, crashed & burned, men…

My dating stats so far:

Bachelor #1: Fresh out of rehab, #1 needed a ride home from the date because his driver’s license was revoked.
Bachelor #2: talked about OSHA regulations and the importance of eye protection for 2 hours.
Bachelor #3: the man otherwise known as Kid Rock; dressed the part and acted the part. But he only performed in one area.
Bachelor #4: I’m drawing a blank. Seriously, he was THAT impressive.
Bachelor #5: the sad widower. I knew immediately that I would never live up to her ghost.
Bachelor #6: This guy talked about vomit during our dinner date, chopped up his spaghetti into miniscule pieces (looking very much like vomit) – and answered each question with ‘Yeppers’.
Bachelor #7: A Shakespearian actor that took his role as King Henry the XIII a little too seriously.
Bachelor #8: #8 was a salesman, and like all good salesman, had me sold on the complete package. Then, once he had me, moved on to the next interested party.

So, as the New Year begins, I ask: if I had 6 months to just focus on me, what would I do? No dating. Could I even do it? There is the fear that my boredom would lead back to surfing the sites. Why do I do this to myself? Do I actually want to be preyed upon by the fake, the lying, the falsely represented, and the con artists that makeup the online dating world?

Just last night I was reading a profile of a man who had been married for 23 years and was newly divorced. In his commentary, he wrote, “I haven’t had a BJ in 22 years. You must love BJs!” Wow, really? Couldn’t you have left that for the 3^rd or 4^th date?

Is this what finding love has become? Just throw it all out there and see if it sticks?

Somebody calm me down before I explode.

XXOO,

The Dishy Divorcee

September 21, 2011
by Dishy Divorcee
5 Comments

The New Normal – Dating Realities

Is there such a thing as normal?

What is normal? Your guess is as good as mine. I had a brush with crazy this last week. You know how guys are always complaining about all the “psycho women” out there? Well, I think I might have acted a teeny bit like one. Here’s the situation –

First off, I can’t handle casual. It’s been almost a year since the big D. I’ve been hanging out, enjoying my hobbies, reading books, lovin’ on my kids… and then I decide to take on dating. As you’ve read in several posts, I don’t find this fun. I’m horrible at it. And WHY was texting ever introduced to the dating scene? Now, we don’t just wait for a phone call, we wait for a frickin’ text.

I start dating Kid Rock (Stone). He’s the lead singer in a heavy metal band and a commercial illustrator by trade… and totally hot. I love the attention he sends my way through texts and little visits and that one fun, sex filled weekend. Right? I keep telling myself it’s no big deal; it’s just a “casual” relationship.

ONLY SOMEONE THAT JUST GOT SCREWED OVER BY HER SEX-ADDICT EX HUSBAND IS NOT READY FOR CASUAL.

So, off I go to see my old therapist to strike up a new relationship. I hadn’t seen her since the holidays when I deemed myself cured. We had talked through all the bad stuff, the ex and his women, co-parenting, finding my self-esteem again, etc. At least I thought I was cured. She was happy to see me and a little surprised. I explained that I’d been living in a cave for the last 6 months… contently working on my jewelry, catching up on the Real Housewives franchise and drinking lots of wine. I was truly, truly content. Ex-husband who?

But then everything changed when I left the safety and security of my woman-cave. I decided it was time to date. And I met that Stone fella… damn it.

I explained to my therapist how wonderful it was to be sexually alive, to be in “like” with a guy, to want him and for him to want me back. His texts and messages brought a smile to my face. I felt like I had a naughty little secret and I loved it. But it didn’t last. The texts started to ebb and became less flirtatious in context. I started having second thoughts – maybe I’m not that exciting… maybe I really don’t have what it takes to make a man happy. In other words, all my self-doubt and torment came rushing back.

My therapist sat listening to my tale of woe. She nodded her head and looked concerned in all the right places. I explained how panicked I was that he hadn’t mentioned seeing me in a while. And how I responded by sending text after text in a crazy, “WHY AREN’T YOU ANSWERING ME?!” kind of way. All in all, it wasn’t exactly boiling rabbits, but was headed in a very bad direction.

When I’d said my peace, my therapist responded, “You’re acting perfectly normal. This is what happens when you like someone. From now and into the future, there will always be the fork in the road… when you decide if the relationship will bloom or fade. There will always be angst, regret, concern, and self-doubt. But do you want to give all that up to be alone?”

In other words, I have to put myself out there and risk being hurt – again.

Welcome to the new normal.

- XXOO

Dishy

September 20, 2011
by Dishy Divorcee
11 Comments

Post-Divorce Relationships – It’s just not fair

I have this re-occurring dream. I’m sitting on a cold metal chair in the elementary school auditorium, 50 lbs over weight and miserable, while my ex-husband sits with his new wife, our kids and her kids all cozy in a row. It’s a vision tattooed to my brain.

My ex-husband, Jack, does not have the traditional boundaries of right or wrong (so I married a sex addict). Case in point, he is now getting his flirt-on with my eight year old son’s friend’s mother. They are having “family dates” together. Over the weekend, it was to the local apple orchard, followed by pizza. How do I know this? Because on Sunday morning, he texts me a picture of my three kids with her kid. When I ask Jack if Casey (the mom) was there, he replied yes. He further admits that he and Casey had grown close, that there is attraction and that they are helping each other through this tough time (of separation and divorce). Ugh.

I’m hurt and confused. We had agreed not to bring someone of the opposite sex into our children’s lives, unless it was serious. How does this compute when your ex is flirting with your son’s friend’s mom? How could I ever hope to compete? Once again, I’ll be the one hurt; I’ll be the one humiliated when teachers and old friends see him moving on. I’ll be the one left to deal with loneliness while he gets away with inappropriate behavior.

Chalk it up to one more humiliation for The Dishy.

Like a stale mantra, I repeat “things will get better, things will get better”; eventually something will work in my favor. But after 11 years of betrayal while he had sex with many, many women and now his new relationship with a mom I run into practically every day (picking up her kids from after school care) – isn’t it time that something good happen to me? How much can one person take?

I HATE the words “it’s not fair”. And nearly daily, I remind my kids, “Not everything in life is fair”. How do I take my own advice to heart? How is it possible that one man, and not a very nice man at that, can be the one to find happiness?

Annoyed beyond belief,

- The Dishy Divorcee

September 19, 2011
by Dishy Divorcee
0 comments

How not to seduce a Sex Addict

I discovered last October that my husband is a sex addict. Questions can be raised as to whether sex can even be an addiction, but that’s another post-divorce article (Narcissism or sex addiction). Whether an addiction or not, there are common behaviors a partner exhibits when sex is their number one priority; over family, friends, work – everything.

In our 10 years of marriage, I tried on several occasions to “bring it”, you know, dress up in sexy lingerie, introduce hot oils; speak in a raspy voice. I tried the Desperate Housewives method and served dinner in nothing but an apron; that kind of thing. Jack thought I was “cute” and he usually accepted the invitation (if you know what I mean), but in all honesty he seemed more passionate about the shrimp scampi simmering on the stove. In other words, there was never an “I-have-to-tear-your-clothes-off-NOW” moment.

After several years, I figured I wasn’t sexy enough or attractive enough. I didn’t have the va-va-voom needed for our relationship. Three kids later, I focused on my weight; I shrunk down to 120 lbs and never looked better. On date night, I walked down the stairs dressed in a gorgeous red dress, only to hear the token “you look nice” mumbled from across the room. Damn, I busted my ass.

Now I have the answer: Jack was the one that needed to change.

I had become Jack’s Madonna figure. Placed on a pedestal, I was the perfect wife and mother. But when it came to his baser instincts, having sex outside the marriage was what drove him… and as long as his wife was none the wiser, he could have it all.

Since October, I’ve learned that it never mattered how much weight was lost or how sexy I attempted to be; I was not the problem. The problem is NOT with me. The problem was with Jack. And no amount of changing on my part would fix him. I’m just thankful that my sex overtures ended with a kitchen apron and not a bizarre sex act that would have left me more ashamed or debased. I’ve read that many women in similar situations try anything, in search of intimacy with their sex addicted husbands.

Years of suffering a negative self-image has taken its toll. I’m not über confident of my attraction to men, but I work on it daily. Each morning, I look in the mirror and tell myself, “I’m hot, I’m sassy and damn it, I’m worth it!”

XXOO

- The Dishy Divorcee

September 13, 2011
by Dishy Divorcee
2 Comments

Is post-divorce dating too self serving?

So far, dating post divorce has been less than ideal. Of course, I don’t really know what an “ideal” dating scenario is, but here is the rundown so far:

Bachelor #1 (see post): Fresh out of rehab, this Dockers wearing dentist was a good online chat but in person, lacked the chops to back it up. Never mind that fact that he told me about his stint in rehab 30 seconds before I ordered a glass of wine. Result: date ended early.
Bachelor #2: This 51 one year old balding engineer lied about his age online, then admitted he’d stretched the truth… just a tad. I learned a great deal about the Occupational Safety and Health Association (OSHA) during our date. Did you know that throwing 1 cup of flour or sugar on a grease fire could result in a kitchen explosion in excess of two dynamite sticks? Result: date ended early.
Bachelor #3: The Murse – a professional male nurse. He touted himself as “the cop from the movie Bridesmaids” and that he was bi-lingual –he could speak both Oprah and NFL. I discovered the only comparison to the Bridesmaids actor were his slightly crossed eyes. We had zero connection. Result: no further contact
Bachelor #4 (see post): Kid Rock, AKA Stone. This one has me perplexed…

First off, Stone is an artist which means he can do ah-mazing things with his hands – ding, ding, ding, ding, ding! He sings in a heavy metal band and designs computer video games for a living. He is unlike anything I’ve dated in the past. He is fun, into his rocker image and dedicated to his work, the band, his work, the band – you get where I’m going with this. Conversations are rare, and mostly one-sided. We are exactly one week into our little tryst – and it’s going splendidly. Who needs dialogue when there’s passion? After 10 years of being married to a guy that didn’t exactly see me as Brigitte Bardot, getting “sext-ed” by the Rock has benefited my lagging self-esteem.

A couple of nights ago, Kid Rock stopped by after band practice. As with each interaction, there were two choices: either tear each other’s clothes off or attempt a conversation. Well, there needs to be some decorum, so we sat awkwardly on the couch… both looking at our phones.

“Ha,” I said, “one week into our relationship and here we sit, not talking, checking our phones.”

Stone threw his phone on the coffee table, faced me and said, “Did you just say relationship?”

“No! No, I didn’t say relationship… I just meant to be funny. No ‘R’ word at all…” Stammering, my face is bright red. I really hadn’t meant it that way… really, folks, I didn’t.

He had that sexy smile, “Well, we are having relations.”

“Exactly,” I said. “Let’s keep it at that.” And then, Kid Rock went in for the kill.

So here is the tough part. I’m perfectly happy being home alone or hanging out with my girlfriends. I don’t want to care about another guy – or wonder what he’s up to. Is he thinking of me? Will we see each other again? Stone is the perfect little liaison I needed to get over my troubled past – but not exactly a relationship I plan on pursuing. Does this make me a bad person? Is it ok to be self-serving after the devastation of a failed marriage?

Just keepin’ it real,

The Dishy Divorcee