Single and Fabulous

“Being single used to mean that nobody wanted you. Now it means you’re pretty sexy and you’re taking you time deciding how you want your life to be and who you want to spend it with.”
Carrie Bradshaw (Sex and the City)

I can remember hearing those voice overs from Carrie while I watched the show and not fully understanding what the hell she was talking about. Carrie Bradshaw had it all; the clothes, the great apartment in NYC, the men, the job, and the shoes! I was too young to fully comprehend what she was writing on her laptop while sipping on her delicious looking Cosmopolitans at 10 o’clock in the morning because, well honestly, who doesn’t have that luxury? But, with re-runs of the show on now, I catch myself watching them, with my Cosmo in hand of course, and having those Ah-ha moments a lot more then I should.

I’m single. I don’t have a +1. I’m not a “Teri and….” on guest lists. I could check the “Single” or the “Divorced” box depending on my mood. I’m usually a third, fifth, etc…wheel. My last real date was with my nephew. I could probably go on and on but I’m thinking you get the picture. Society had me trained to think that because I am single, there must be something wrong with me. I had 2 serious relationships before I got married, I failed at my marriage, and I’m back to being single. Am I doing something wrong? Am I not good enough? Maybe there isn’t someone out there for me. Am I being too picky? Am I too guarded or am I making myself too available? Or, call me crazy, but maybe I’m just being a female and thinking way too much into this whole being single thing. Sorry to put us on blast ladies.

Perhaps it’s not just the female species that has it all wrong. Maybe it’s just society as a whole that has blinded us to what’s really important: life. Living life. Loving life. Maybe I’m not in a relationship because I just don’t want to be. So in yo face, society. Being single is a choice. Don’t get me wrong, if someone comes along that I think is amazing and that I would like to get to know better, I will put forth that effort. However, that still doesn’t mean I want a relationship RIGHT NOW. That means I would like to take things slow and get to know you. Since my divorce, I realized a lot about myself and I have some things (obviously) that I need to work on for myself before I can bring anyone else into it. I want to travel by myself, which I think is the greatest way to learn about yourself. I want to have fun with my friends and go to concerts and sit around a bonfire. I want to enjoy spending time with my family. I want to read more. I want to sleep in a van down by the river. Okay, I’m kidding about that last one. I want to go camping and sleep under the stars. I want to hear stories from people I don’t even know because I love seeing how people talk about things they are passionate about. It would be amazing if I found someone to do these things with, but I am okay doing these things myself and with my friends. Being single will not stop me from living life; loving life. I know I will find someone that is perfect for me and can handle me at my worst, my best, my outspoken times, my quiet times, my annoying times, and my ever so cute endearing times. But until then, I’m working on the relationship that really matters; the one with myself and that is just fabulous.

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

For the longest time my mom would wake us up on this very day, every year, and give her best Irish accent and say “Top of the morning to ya!” I would find it hilarious because she would love it so much, although I’m not sure what she loved more; talking with the Irish accent or having an excuse to wake us up in such an obnoxious but cute manner. See, for the longest time we thought we had Irish ancestors, then we didn’t and we were Scottish. Then we were a little Irish and Scottish. So, I think that’s where we ended up. Honestly I lost track of how many times we thought we might have been Irish. But on March 17th, aren’t we all Irish? Sure, you can look at that as go out and get plastered and have a whale of time. Or you can look at it as I’m choosing to and consider yourself lucky. When it comes to lottery tickets, raffles, casinos, or even Go Fish, I definitely don’t have the luck of the Irish on my side. But when I look back on my life and where I am now, I can confidently say I hit the jackpot when it comes to my family, without having to chase a little leprechaun.

I know everyone says they have the best parents in the world and chances are they might. However, my parents….I don’t even know how to describe. They were and are the perfect combination of best friends/parents. They didn’t smother us, but yet we always knew they were there. They pushed us to do our best in everything, but were behind us if we decided it wasn’t for us. What my dad lacked in “book smarts”, my mom made sure she had it covered. What my mom didn’t know about the mean streets of Struthers, my dad let us know about. When I thought I was big and bad and packed the black plastic bags and was ready to leave home because they took my pager from me, they always let me do what I had to do, and then they always let me back. Honestly I never got more than the front door. But I was trying to make a dramatic point. But I was the one that was missing the point. They were and are always going to be there for us. My parents made sure we always had a roof over our heads and clothes on our backs. I know I have said things to the both of them in my childhood days that have hurt their feelings and all I can say now is that I am sorry and thank you for loving me, for loving us, unconditionally.

When I say us, I mean myself and of course my older sister and my younger brother. Let’s be honest, who are the real lucky ones to have such an amazing sister like myself. Without them though, I don’t know where I would be. Cathy paved the way for me. Not only with my parents and in high school, but in life. While she was in high school and I was in about 8th grade there was a divide. I wasn’t allowed at parties she threw at our house when our parents were away and I wasn’t allowed to be with her and her friends basically doing anything. I remember thinking I have the meanest sister in the world, the universe. Why couldn’t I hang out with her? But, as the years went on and we grew up and grew closer, the more I learned and the more I caught on. She wasn’t telling me no because she was mean and because she didn’t love me. She told me no and kicked me out of her parties BECAUSE she loved me. She was protecting me. She was being the big sister. Now we are both grown up, even though I think she hates to admit her little sister isn’t so little. I have to make my own choices and do what is best for me, even if she doesn’t agree. We are two different people and that’s okay. She is more cautious and I’m more carefree. I’m sure we can both learn a lot from each other. Some days I just want her to relax and I’m sure there are days she wishes I would just grow up. But I will always need her, no matter the day, no matter the circumstance. Now Mark, my little brother is something else. I have never been more proud of someone then him. Growing up, he was terrible. I mean I have heard of terrible two’s but this lasted till he was about 12. He gave my parents a run for their money and many babysitters. I would have never imagined he grow up to be the man he is today. He left home for Columbus with his girlfriend at the time, now his wife, shortly after high school and has been making this family proud ever since. He is the smartest man I know, I just want to know why those genes skipped me?! He has lived in different places and taken on so many different jobs that I can’t keep up. He has never settled for less than what he deserves and he deserves the world and so much more. He is always chasing bigger and better things and I have always admired that about him. When I lived in Texas, I can say he and I got a lot closer and I learned a lot about him and the man he has become and I know I don’t tell him all the time, but I truly adore him. It is an honor to be his big sister.

So, maybe tomorrow when you aren’t getting plastered and doing numerous Irish Car Bombs, take a minute and think about the things or people in your life that you are lucky to have or had. I say tomorrow because I have gotten emotional while drinking and I don’t recommend that for anyone. I have a lot of other people that I am lucky for, but I think this was enough reading for the day.

Be lucky. Be blessed. Be careful.

My Addiction & Regret

Regret. We all have it. At some point in our lives and in some form, we all have some regret. Whether it be saying something to someone, wearing something, cutting your hair a certain way, dating someone, doing something, or even eating way too much. It comes in many shapes and in many sizes. Sometimes we learn from what we did that filed us with that regret and sometimes we are just addicted to the way it makes us feel in the moment that we don’t feel the regret till after, which makes us do it all over again. It’s a vicious cycle. Damn vicious.

In high school I had an eating disorder. It started off by me not eating or eating very little. Then I would eat more and throw it up. Things in my outside world at that point were out of control, I felt like I could control my weight. It is so cliché when people say that I know, but it’s true. I needed that control because I felt like I couldn’t handle what was going on around me. Maybe it wasn’t about the control that I needed but more about the attention looking back at it now. Either way, for a short while, I was addicted to that feeling. It was a rush, a high, knowing that I could eat whatever I wanted to because I could get rid of it. Did I regret it immediately afterwards? Absolutely. But that only made me crave it more. Everything around me was so chaotic I blended in the background so maybe I just wanted someone to notice that I was there. In no way was it anyone fault but my own. I knew what I was doing. I knew if I just spoke up the right way, things would change. But I handled it wrong because I didn’t know what to do at that time. I told my boyfriend who then either told my parents or made me tell them, I can’t remember, but I did end up going to see a doctor. I felt like I disappointed my parents which made it worse. What was I doing? My parents loved me and I was hurting myself when I had their attention all along. I stopped after one session.

My addiction to that rush, that high, was nothing. I thought I wanted control at the time but now I know I just wanted the attention and I’m mature enough to admit that. I regret going about it the way that I did because I feel like I hurt my parents in the process. The thing I learned about regret is that you can never go back in time and change what you said, what you wore, how you cut your hair, or change your actions. Instead, you can learn from it, grow from it, and become better from it.

1995.

I'm going to bring you back to a certain point in my life, although I didn’t fully comprehend what had happened then, looking back at it now, it was the first time my family, the family I thought was untouchable, broke.

My grandfather passed away on February 15th, 1995. I was young. I knew what happened & I understood what happened. I remember walking in the door from school and my mom and dad sitting at the table. Anyway, I walked in and my dad had me sit on his lap and he told me. I cried and then we went to my Nona’s. I will never forget when I went there that day. I sat on her lap and she was hugging me so tightly. I can remember feeling as if her arms were just swallowing me as she held me against her chest. She was screaming in my ear and rocking back and forth, “He’s gone, He’s gone.” See, the thing about my grandparents is that they were absolute soulmates. My Nona literally had a broken heart and on June 20th 1995, just 3 short months and 5 days after my Grandpa passed, that broken heart took her from us. Unfortunately, I was so young, I don’t remember much of my grandparents besides the stories and pictures that people share.

Did you ever see the movie “Soul Food”? When I first watched that, Big Mama reminded me of my Nona. She was the glue. She was the foundation. We would go over there all the time for dinner. Holidays were unreal. Christmas Eve & Christmas day, I couldn’t wait to go over there. Santa would come and I would get so excited when I would hear the clanking from him, or her, walking down the steps; not ever noticing that my dad, Grandpa or Grandma would take turns being Santa. My Nona is who started my addiction to chocolate milk. I can remember one time I was running in their house and I ran into the doorknob of my Grandpa’s TV room. My eye was gushing blood and my dad put me on top of their counter in the bathroom and the counter was really long and I can remember looking at my Grandpa and feeling bad for him because he was all the way at the end and couldn’t see what was going on. My Grandpa would chase my brother around with a yellow yard stick that he hid next to the refrigerator and my Nona would ALWAYS have Juicy Fruit gum to give us that she kept in a jar in the cabinet right by the door to the garage. I can remember running in their front yard because it was really big and throwing rocks in the pond that they had in the backyard. I can remember how red my Nona’s face would get when she would laugh and the hair that grew out of my Grandpa’s nose. I can’t remember their voices. I can’t remember anything they told me. I can’t remember the last time I saw their faces other than in pictures, but the memories I do have of them will hopefully last a lifetime.

Regardless if I knew them as much as I would have hoped, they helped shape who I am today. Their blood is running in my veins. I learn more and more about them each and every day. By having those family dinners, they made me understand how important family is and how lucky I am to be a part of the one I am. Some of us may fight, some of us may not agree with one another, and some of us may not talk to each other on a regular basis, but at the end of the day, we are family, and that is something my grandparents taught me that I will never forget.

Mistakes & Judgement

How fair is it that people still get judged on their past? Sure, some people are incapable of changing. But, how fair is it to judge people that HAVE changed based on things they did 20, 15, or 10 years ago? I know that I have done some pretty messed up things in the past that I would never even think about doing now. I know people that have cheated and are in committed relationships now. I know people that have had several run ins with the police that are now police officers. I know people that have had trouble with drugs and alcohol and are amazing people, friends, and parents. People grow and people learn through their mistakes so how fair is it for us to judge them on things that they did when they were younger? We don’t always know the circumstances or the situations or what was going on in their heads when they did what they did. They probably don’t even know. The point is that they learn from it and they grow from it and they become better people. We can’t sit on our high horses and point fingers at anyone because the truth is, I bet we all did some things we aren’t proud of.

I am in no means innocent. I have done things I am not proud of when I was younger. I didn’t know any better. I wish I could go back in time and change it. I was lost and searching for any kind of relief and I was selfish. I will have to live with the choices that I made during that period for the rest of my life and that is no one’s fault but my own. I was wrong and I am sorry. But, I did learn from it. I learned about the person I never want to be. I learned that I am better then who I was pretending to be. I learned that I am going to mess up from time to time and it’s okay and that I can’t bottle up my emotions from the past because they will literally suffocate me. Most importantly, I acknowledge that I made mistakes in the past and that I am not a bad person. So, how can I sit there and judge someone based on something they did light-years ago? I can’t. I can acknowledge that they made mistakes, yes, but I should also acknowledge that they aren’t that same person now and chances are, they are pretty amazing.

Our experiences are what make us who we are today and so do our mistakes, without them, how would we learn and become better?