If there is one thing I have learned in the short time Ive been dating ( and subsiquently marrying and divorcing ) guys, its that the ones that were attracted to me had impossible stardards for me to try and meet. I was always the "dream woman" and I basically killed myself trying to fill the proverbial twelve inch stillettos they laid in front of me.
You have the guys that want you to be their trophy, and the ones who want you to be their mommy-replacement. Oh, and my personal fav, the ones that need YOU to basically be the man in the relationship, make all the decisions and tell them every move they are supposed to make. All while cooking and cleaning and staying thin, and keeping your opinions to yourself and basically molding yourself to this image of perfection they have in their heads.
Then comes the boom. The few extra pounds you pack on after a life shattering event, followed by the ups and downs that coordinate with being told your not good enough, smart enough, sweet enough, or sexy enough to be worth any time. How wonderful of another human being to treat you like that after lying with every other word they said to you right?
But you know you do what you follow that up with? You lay on the ground gasping for air like you did when you were a kid and fell out of a tree or something, and it knocks the air out of you and you feel like your dying a bit. Then, you let yourself feel the pain, thats so intense it feels like your heart is being tazed and poked repeatedly with a red hot cattle prod, then you stand up, and you find the strength to walk away.
It takes more strength to walk away from a munipulative relationship then it does to stay and pretend everything is okay.
But I think the deepest measure of strength is to raise up the good 'ol one finger salute to all the people who try to pidgeon hole you into any kind of stereotype. I am not perfect, and I am not a dream girl. I can not live up to the fantasy you created in your head when you were home alone and bored, but I can promise you that I will always, from this point on, be myself. And that, my friend, is the best your gonna get. :)
So, thats a small glimpse into my past. Now, I sit here a 22 year old divorcee, with a wonderful new boyfriend who loves me more then I thought a guy could. My life is a little topsy turvy, and Im eleven weeks pregnant ( which is a whole other blog post) but Im at peace with it all. I know its going to be a rough road, but the glory of being pounded on again and again, is that it leaves your skin a hell of a lot tougher then it was before. So, yeah, I can handle this, and all the haters are doing is giving me the determination to prove it. :)