A Letter To My Friend

I have a very good friend who is frustrating the hell out of me! There are so many things I want to say to her, but I honestly don’t think she’d truly hear me. I know this because I’ve felt like a recording that has been playing on repeat for the last 4 ½ years. Because of this building frustration, I’ve decided to write her a letter. It won’t be one I actually send, but really it’s just for my benefit. Before I do, let me give you some background.

My friend, we’ll call her Gloria, is married to a man she’s known since she was 15 years old. Back when she and I met, they were separated. I was recently divorced and she had some wild oats to sow, so we spent a lot of time out on the town exploring the various “oat-sowing” outlets. Right before she and her husband reconciled, she met a man, had a physical encounter, and that was it.

It wasn’t until she and her husband had bought a house that she realized something was up and went to the doctor to get herself checked out. You guessed it…she ended up pregnant. To make matters worse, she and her husband had tried for years to have a family with no success, so now what? Tell him, right?! Nope! Ok…give it a month or so and tell him…nope! I didn’t even find out there was another possible father until she was closer to her due date. To make a long story longer (sorry), she had her daughter and, despite the fact that she and her husband are Hispanic and the father is black, her husband was still clueless. Not only did she not tell him for more than six months, but she allowed the “sperm donor” (SD) to see her and the baby.

At no time has SD provided any financial support, and he all but threatened her when she asked for a paternity test. Despite his cowardly persona, she is still infatuated with him. I am so mad that if I ever meet him in person, I will walk up and junk punch him. Oh…did I mention he has children from a previous relationship who he doesn’t take care of either? Yeah…real winner.

Gloria and her husband are still together and you’d think that would be the end of it. NOPE! She not only was still seeing SD, but had yet ANOTHER physical fucking encounter (pun partially intended) which resulted in her SON. Fortunately this time, she told her husband very early on, and his response was, “I’m done!” Who could blame him, right?! So he moved out, you’d think. Nope…he didn’t.

So…here they are, living as roommates, sleeping in separate bedrooms, and she’s still seeing SD. She complains all the time about her husband not wanting to do anything with her and how lonely it is. She talks about how romantic SD is despite the fact that he STILL won’t take a DNA test so he can start paying back child support. I’m really starting to feel like her husband (“I’m done!”), but I’m trying to figure out how to be her friend. The result is that I’ve distanced myself from her quite a bit.

I’ve been a bit distraught for a while about all this, but I need some sort of outlet. This letter I’m writing below is what I really want to say but can’t/won’t. I guess this is my way of being her friend and saving our relationship but getting my frustrations out before my head fucking explodes!!!!

Here goes…


Dear Gloria,

We’ve been friends for a while now, and I’ve always been an ear when you need someone to listen. Now it’s time for you to return the favor. I’ve always been clear about my opinion of SD, but it seems you haven’t been listening to anything I’ve said, so I’ve resulted in writing to you in hopes that these words will sink in.

You are in the unfortunate situation of being tied to SD for the rest of your life because of your lack of control around him. He has proven over and over what a worthless piece of shit he is, but you fail to see it. It appears your confidence is at an all-time low, but I want you to hear what I’m about to say. GROW THE FUCK UP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You are the mother of two, yes TWO children who are innocent in all this. SD is a joke. He doesn’t care about you. He doesn’t care about your kids…yes, YOUR kids. A sperm donor does not a father make! He needs to be forced to take a paternity test so he can pay back child support, or he needs to be cut out of your life and the kids’ lives. If you think for one second that he will take care of you and the kids, you’re kidding yourself. Have more respect for yourself than that!! I will never support you seeing him…ever. I will never like him…ever. If I ever do come across him, he better fucking run!!!!!!! I’m really struggling not just telling you off in person when you tell me you’ve seen or talked to him. Seriously…grow up!

As far as your husband goes…you have NO RIGHT to say what he should or shouldn’t do or feel. That’s over. The fact that you refer to him as your kids’ daddy to your friends and family is utterly pissing me off! How DARE you put him in that situation. It’s bad enough you’ve betrayed him twice and have the children to prove it, but you act like the victim. Again…GROW UP! Be an adult and take responsibility for what you’ve done. If he doesn’t want to be around you, who can blame him? Why he’s stayed makes no sense. YOU need to be the one to end your marriage because he never will. YOU need to give him the freedom to live his life. It’s the least you can do considering you’re STILL seeing SD! Don’t you DARE blame your husband for wanting to see or talk to other women. You think you’re lonely?!?! How the fuck do you think he feels?

You wonder why I haven’t seen you or the kids in a while and rarely ask what’s going on with them because I know exactly where the conversation is going to lead. I am quickly losing patience with you and the days of biting my tongue will soon be over if you don’t get your shit together. I am not going to enable your behavior any longer and don’t really give a fuck if you’re lonely. Fuck that! I’ve been divorced now for over 4 ½ years and lonely doesn’t even begin to explain how it’s felt. Not to mention the fact that my ex-husband and his new wife have a child. A CHILD!! That was all I ever wanted and you’ve got two and by continually fucking up your life you’re fucking up theirs. Do you know how much that fucking pisses me off?!  I’m to the point with you that I need a stronger word than fuck!

I don’t want to end our friendship, but there will be no sugar-coating anything anymore. If you dare to tell me you’re lonely or frustrated or that you’ve seen SD again, you’re going to get a HUGE FUCKING DOSE OF REALITY! This is not meant to sound threatening, but rather a promise. I PROMISE I will put you in your place the next time this comes up if I have to. If being a bitch to you gets you to actually take a fucking action in a POSITIVE direction for once, then a bitch I am!

Your infinitely frustrated friend,

P.S. After you’ve read this, read. It. again!!! Yeah, the truth hurts!




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Do I seek what I’ve lost?

Many times I turn to writing to help seek out answers to what troubles me. I’ve found that seeing what’s in my head appear on the screen before me allows me to organize my thoughts and help me find what’s missing. The problem I’ve been having for a while is that there is something I’ve lost that I can’t seem to find. It’s something I’ve lost a little at a time over the years. I’m finding that part of me doesn’t want to search for it, but the other part of me seeks the comfort it brought to me in my youth. What I’m missing is my faith.

I was raised Jewish, and tonight marks the beginning of the Passover holiday. Of all the holidays in the Jewish faith, this one is very much rooted in tradition. There are traditions with rituals, with food, with song, with prayers and storytelling, and, mostly, with being surrounded by family and friends. While I appreciate the traditions, I’ve found it harder and harder over the years to blindly follow any religion that has failed to answer many of the questions I have, as my mind is very science-based in its logical thinking. I’ve also gone through a lot in trying and failing to have a family, being married and divorced, and don’t even get me started on the shenanigans of the dating world. So where does that leave me? Lost.

I’m going to take some time to figure out who I really am. Most times, I go days without a second thought about religion or faith just as I go without thinking about having a child. There are other days that those thoughts can be consuming. I find myself jealous of those who are strong in their faith and use it as a means of empowerment, while other times I feel like they’re just deluding themselves in regards to it all. Most times though, I feel like I’ve ripped out my mom’s heart when she mentions something about religion knowing that I’ve basically given up my own…and what she gave to me.

How did I get to this point? How did I become so cynical? Why can’t I find the comfort I so greatly seek? Why do I feel like I need it? I have too many questions. That’s always been my problem with religion in general, as I’m more the type who feels that seeing is believing.

I really hoped that writing would provide me some sort of epiphany. Maybe it’ll just come to me later. Maybe that epiphany is lost just like my faith is, and it will just take some time to finally figure out how to find it. As my dad always says when I’m looking for something I’ve lost, “It’s always in the last place you look.”

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Tunnel Vision

Back when I was married, I would have a lot of trouble not thinking about trying to get pregnant. These thoughts are always on my mind. It was hard to escape them. Imagine every time you have sex with your spouse you wonder, “Is this the time I’m going to get pregnant?” Yeah, that was how my life was. It was all-consuming.

I’m happy to report that I don’t have those thoughts anymore. Since getting divorced, it has been like my brain has been rebooted. I often go days and sometimes weeks without even thinking about the idea of getting pregnant or having a family. Sometimes when I stop and think about it it’s hard for me to imagine, looking back, that I’ve gotten to this point. Again, those thoughts were constant and always on the forefront of my mind. It was as if I’d been suffering from a form of tunnel vision for years. Maybe my divorce was a trigger to snap me out of it. It is nice no be able to have sex with someone without that wonder clouding my enjoyment of the act itself.

Now, several years later, I find that my brain has found a replacement for the baby-making tunnel vision. My myopic thoughts now revolve around food. I’ve been on Weight Watchers for over a year now and have made zero progress. I do continue to go to the weekly meetings, and have not missed more than two weeks since I started. This new train of thought is at least different than infertility in the sense that I have total control over whether or not this works. If that’s the case, then why am I so narrow-minded about it all?

Sure, some people have tunnel vision about finances, while others have tunnel vision about not having enough free time. For me the issue, at least for the last few years, is always food. I don’t know how this started, but I sure as hell need to figure out how to end it. I wonder if the answer is to develop tunnel vision on some other activity. Maybe I need a new hobby to get completely obsessed with. The problem with this, in my opinion, is that being “obsessed” isn’t the answer. I need to get to the root of the issue and hope the light at the end of my tunnel isn’t a train.

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My Verbal Trigger

Sometimes a song comes on that reminds you of something from your past. Other times it’s a certain scent. These both can elicit strong emotions and vivid memories. Tonight it was neither of these two that brought me to tears. Instead, it was a simple line on a TV show. During the episode, the husband had lost his loving wife of 60 years after undergoing surgery. When he had made the arrangements for her and was leaving the hospital, he realized he’d arrived in an ambulance and was going to have to take a taxi home. The doctor who was with him offered to take care of calling a cab for him, but he replied by saying that he was going to have to figure out how to do things on his own now. Just those few words spoken by him immediately caused me to be reminded of a very significant time when those exact words were not only spoken by me, but someone else. That person was my ex-husband.

I’m not sure how other couples experience the moment when they decide their marriage is over, but as for my ex-husband and I, it was very touching. We had originally decided in a bit of an abrupt manner two days after our 16th anniversary. The night that it was first decided, I had found out the reason I had been feeling so awful was because I had strep throat. My husband at the time offered to make me some soup or get me some sprite, but I told him not to bother because I was going to have to figure out how to do things on my own.

Two days later, after I went to an individual counseling session, we both agreed that, just to be sure, we should go to a couples counselor to make sure this is what we really wanted. Fifteen minutes into the third counseling session, it was obvious that it would be our last session as we were at a critical decision-making time. The next day, my husband wrenched his back so badly that he could barely walk. He’d hoped it would be better the day after, but instead he looked like an elderly person as he tried to go about his daily activities. I tried helping him but he refused to accept any help. It was breaking my heart to see him like that.

Finally the next day, he made a trip to the doctor’s office whereby he was given two prescriptions. One was for a muscle, and the other was for pain. How he drove there I will never know. He came home after picking up his prescription and went to the bedroom to get some rest. When he was moaning in pain, I asked him if his pain meds were working. He said that he didn’t get them because he was afraid they’d make him sick. I told him that he can’t go on like that and that I was going to go pick them up from the pharmacy. He argued with me about it, but I stood my ground and told him I’d be back in just a few minutes.

When I got back home with his pills, I entered the bedroom where he was trying to rest. I got him some water, took out the recommended dosage, and handed both to him. At that point he was sitting on the side of the bed facing me. He took the water and the pills and, after swallowing both, told me through tears that he couldn’t have me helping him because he was going to have to figure out how to do it himself.

We both knew that was it. It was over. This was the moment we decided to end our marriage. I gently held him in my arms as our emotions took us both over. We talked and together agreed that we were done. Looking back, it really was a beautiful moment. What surprised us both was that once we made this decision together, all of the stress we’d been feeling for so long was finally gone. That was yet another reason we knew we’d made the right decision.

Things for us ended amicably, and he is remarried with a daughter of his own. I, on the other hand, am still single but very content and happy with my life. I guess if things were going to end with my marriage, I’m happy to know that despite all our differences, it was the one thing we could agree upon together.

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The Not-So-Private Dick

I recently met someone online and began the normal “interview” part that we all go through upon meeting. You ask all the normal questions – Where in the area do you live? What hobbies/interests do you have? Do you have any children? Blah blah blah. One question that typically comes up is when you ask the other person what they do for a living. In the case of this guy, this question wasn’t addressed on his part until I suggested we exchange numbers and maybe even talk on the phone. He mentioned that he doesn’t normally give out his number since he works in a government job, but was happy to use an app other than the dating one so it would make things a little easier. He said he didn’t like the fact that big brother was watching but assured me it was only temporary. The conversation had been going well so far, so I figured it couldn’t hurt.

Famous last words…

I knew pretty quickly that this guy was going to be a bit of a challenge as he brought up sex fairly often, and I kept having to reel him back in. There are so many other things to talk about when getting to know someone. In all honesty, it was pissing me off that he was being disrespectful.

Here he was, so private about giving out his phone number, yet he was telling me about sex dreams he’d had about us and the fact that after waking from last night’s dream he had to finish himself off without me there. I immediately told him that was TMI and that I’d prefer to keep that conversation at least until after we met and decided there was a connection. He apologized and said that he’d just been very sexually charged since meeting me as it had been quite a while since he’d had sex. I figured that’s his own damn fault.

About 10 minutes had passed, and I was just about to forgive him when I got a notification of another message from him. Upon opening it, I was greeted by…yep, you guessed it – a cock shot. He said he was so hard and so excited that he just had to show me. I quickly said good bye and blocked him. Oh…and did I mention that I was at work when this happened?!

What got me this evening is that, as I was writing this, I had a horrible idea pop into my head. This guy who works for “the government” and who can’t give out his phone number because “big brother is watching” is probably married. Maybe not, but this scenario would make sense. A sexually deprived married man. Hmmm…never heard of that before.

Either way…what a dick!

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The Balancing Act

I’m not new to experiencing the effects of hormones on the body. After all, I went through 8+ years of infertility treatments. There can be very high highs and very low lows. The problem is, my mind doesn’t differentiate between good effects and bad effects in response to this fluctuation. The power these can have over my rational thought is what gets me into trouble most of the time. This is something I’m experiencing now, so I’m trying to become more aware of what’s happening so I can control how I react to delicate situations. The most delicate of these, especially right now, is my dating life.

The hormones that take over when I meet someone are what gets me into trouble every time. I’ve been reading a lot about the different chemicals that are released and their effect on the mind and body. Some of these include dopamine, adrenaline, oxytocin, and testosterone. Based on what I’ve read, I’m wondering if this is why, when I get to a certain point in the dating process, I screw things up. Are my hormones at extreme levels? Could that be how some people are able to successfully be in a relationship? Could it be that their hormones are better balanced than mine are at this point? Maybe. In the meantime, I’m going to continue to do research on how to combat this immediate reaction to the influx of emotions before it gets the better of me. I need to, or I’m doomed, and I don’t want to mess things up this time. This could be pretty amazing!

DAMMIT! There go my hormones again!!! I need an emotional cold shower or something!!


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The Boxing Ring

I’m feeling like a boxer right now. That’s the only way I can describe my dating life. I started off almost two years ago with the ding of the first bell following my divorce.

Round 1

I take hit after hit while trying to duck and weave to avoid the next impending blow. Every once in a while I land a good upper cut or left hook (yes, I’m a lefty). After being completely spent, I hear the bell ring. FINALLY, I can go to my corner for a rest. A round of unsuccessful dating has completed.

Round 2

I’m slowly learning to read my opponent (the dating pool). I’m able to evade a hit or two since there seems to be a pattern. Just when I’m feeling confident, my opponent throws in a fake right followed by a left. I did NOT see that one coming. My head is spinning as I don’t know what just hit me. I feel my knees go weak, and just as I’m about to give up for good I hear the bell.

Round 3

My legs are wobbly, yet I somehow gather the strength to stand. I decide to change my strategy, so this time I come out punching. I don’t give my opponent time to react. I’m taking charge. Things are looking up as the round is finally going my way. I can see round after round of this and am so pumped that it’s finally working. Just then my target begins dodging my advancing shots. It’s obvious this round isn’t going anywhere. DING DING!…whatever!

Round 4

As I step up to the sound of the bell, my strategy is to just look busy for this round. I don’t want to actually throw any punches, but rather just keep moving. This works for a while and then time’s up, so I head to my corner.

Round…oh, enter whatever number you want…I think I’m approaching infinity at this point

I basically took a break the last round and gained a little strength. I’m feeling my confidence coming back, so I decide to throw my hat in the ring yet again. Maybe it’s a false sense of hope this time, but even Rocky had his moments. This time my plan is to take this round with caution. Yes, I’m cautiously hopeful. I’m sure it’s going to leave me bruised and beaten, and I’m afraid I’m going to get hurt, but it beats sitting in the corner.

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