Genuinely, Happily, Single

“There are people who are genuinely happy to be single, because past relationships were extremely exhausting!” -dearladyann

It’s me. I’m people. “There is Leandrea who is genuinely happy to be single…”

I would certainly describe my last few relationships as exhausting, among other choice words. And, they pushed me to a place I’d rather not go again for awhile.

That’s okay. I’m acknowledging that I’m gun shy, and I need a break. A long break of singledom. A long break of rest. I’ve earned this. I deserve this. I need this.

I wish I could bounce back in a way that made the past seem trivial. I’d like to believe I’m strong enough to just move on. Because long term was my goal, and single forever isn’t my plan. But, I barely escaped with my sanity. I bent totally in half, but I didn’t break. And, I need to recuperate.

This is the opportunity to renew myself mentally and emotionally. Heal from the trauma. Re-establish my needs, wants, and desires. And, date freely and have fun.

Low expectations. No expectations. Impressing me is necessary to move forward.

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Newborn and giving up.

6/22 I’m writing this with my newborn son on my shoulder. It’s been one week, two hours, and seventeen minutes of me being a mom of two. He’s perfect, and I’m faking normalcy.

7/27 My baby is now 6 weeks and 1 day. We’re side by side in the backseat of a car. We took a mini vacation to Memphis. It was challenging. It was an adventure. We’re in the last hour of the drive, he’s tired of the car seat, he wonders why I’m not taking him out of it, and I’m typing this with one hand while I hold his pacifier with the other.

But, he’s absolutely perfect. He’s happy and curious most of the time, but he screams his head off when he’s hungry. And, he expects his pacifier to be available 100% of the time. Doesn’t matter if he wants it. He wants it to be available. We have 6 pacifiers. He’s training me well. Again, I’m holding his pacifier in his mouth this moment.

I’m madly in love. I’m mother to 2 beautiful boys, 13 years apart, and almost identical twins. My heart is full. I can barely contain my happiness, even during 3A feedings and poop filled diapers. Life is good. I’m very blessed.

I can’t seem to wrap my mind around what’s happened in the last year. The break up. The pregnancy. The baby. Nothing was part of the plan. I give up.

And, I don’t give up in a negative way. I give up making decisions regarding love. I give up being sure of anything. Because my happiest moments were being single and open to whatever happened. I was free.

Right now, I don’t want to be a wife, or a fiancé, or a girlfriend. I just want to have a few dates, eventually. I just want a handful of compliments and a few conversations a week. It’s easy, and it lacks decisions.

Why I went back…

06/30

I never planned to go back.

I may have even said I’d never go back.

Never say never.

I did go back, though. I went back because emotionally I wasn’t done.

He wasn’t done. He fought for me. He pulled me back. And, I allowed it. I wasn’t kicking. I wasn’t screaming. I was guarded. I am guarded. But, if it crashes and burns. I have no regrets. I have no doubts. I leave confident. It will be the final goodbye.

And, that was the agreement. If we go all in again, and it doesn’t work, we walk away. No friends. No communication. Nothing lingers. It’s done.

But, we have to go all in. We have to try. I have to try. I can be guarded, but I have to try.

Sheesh.

Okay.

07/23

I went back to realize that I shouldn’t stay.

And just like that…

It was over.

I’m single again. One minute I was someone’s girlfriend, and then I wasn’t. I went from talking about forever to being single in a moment. It’s hard to grasp. It’s a lot to process. I’m not sure how to manage this.

But, I’m okay.

No one died. Our lives go on in new and interesting ways. We move forward. We continue to grow. We face new teachable challenges. We chase new goals. We do everything we’d planned, just apart. And, that was a call I made. I set us free.

Update: I didn’t set us free. I just loosened the rope holding us to each other. We were so tightly bound, but not as tight anymore. I have no idea what the future holds.

And just like that…the saga continues.

Long term expectations on short term relationships

As a single woman, well past 30, rounding the corner to 40, I have made a lot, A LOT, of bad decisions in relationships. My primary issue in is that I have given short term relationships long term expectations.

Where is my church fan? I should be waving it at myself shouting “amen”.

Ladies, and gentlemen, I get it. I completely understand that you are hoping against hope, and praying with all you’ve got, that some relationships will just work themselves out. You are perfect for that man or woman, but they aren’t perfect for you. They are NOT perfect for you. They aren’t even good for you. That relationship isn’t good for you. That relationship isn’t a long term relationship. It’s a reason or season, but not a life time.

Short term people tell you they are short term people, through words and/or actions. I had an ex boyfriend who claimed to want forever with me, but he never discussed marriage. He wanted a child with me, but he never discussed a family. He always stopped short of committing to me. The relationship was saturated in missed opportunities and let downs. But, I loved him. And, because he said he loved me, I stuck it out. It was bound to get better, right? Eventually he would see that I was perfect for him. I was supportive of him. I was committed to him. I was in this. Right?

Wrong. He showed me time and again that we were short term. Maybe we would shack up for a bit. Maybe I could join the baby mama team. Maybe I could look up in another 3 years and realize he had been consistently telling me that I wasn’t the one.

Mercy?!

Because as motivated as I should have been to leave, he was motivated to keep me around. I was offering up a wife life to him, with little expectations. Human nature was telling him to soak that up. I understand. And, he didn’t owe me anything. He’d told me what I was getting. If I wanted to stand around hoping for more, I was the fool.

He was a reason for a season. He had a clear point and purpose in my life. I needed the lessons he provided. And, I’m grateful.

But, how do you know when long term really equals long term?

You will just know. The behavior changes from anything you’ve seen before. You feel it in your gut. Your person isn’t being dragged into this idea of forever by you. They are happily walking into forever, eyes wide open, eager about what’s to come. You are having long term conversations. They are initiating some of those conversations and not avoiding any of them. Their plans have you in them, and your plans don’t intimidate them.

I’m there. Finally betting on the winner. My guy discusses us as a team, not two individuals that happen to be in the same time and space. We plan our life, our family, our future, our finances, our investments, our needs, our wants, and our goals. We have real arguments that aren’t sugar coated to avoid upsetting the other person. We laugh with and at each other. We sacrifice to support the relationship, and we build each other up to be the best version of ourselves.

I didn’t know what long term felt like until I got to where I am. I only knew the short term was uncomfortable. I only recognized the struggle. I thought forever was going to be a battle.

Long term IS a challenge, but short term with long term expectations is damn near a war.

There’s levels…

Shahs of Sunset S6E11

“There’s levels. There’s levels. There’s levels. There’s girls that you’re friends with. Girls that you sleep with. There’s girls that you date. There’s girls that you engage, and there’s girls that you’re gonna marry.” – Mike Shouhed, Shahs of Sunset

I’ve been living in the levels. All the levels. 

“Hello, my name is Leandrea, and I’ve been living in the levels.”

Sheesh. 

There’s girls that you’re friends with. I’m a great friend that’s a girl. I don’t need too much attention, just the occasional plus one, respond to my text, take most of my calls, and keep my favorite snacks and drinks at your place for hang outs. I’ll advise you on your relationships. I’ll support your courtships. I’ll stand up for you at your wedding. I know my place. 

Girls that you sleep with. AKA: Friends with benefits. One night stands. A hook up. Fuck boys. Fuck girls. I don’t want to be that. I don’t want to be that girl. Let’s be friends or not. Let’s date or not. But, I don’t wanna be a conquest. I’ve been that level, and it doesn’t sit well with me. It’s not a good look. 

There’s girls that you date. I’m perfect at this level. I’m an ideal dateable girl. I think I’m fun, a chameleon that can make most situations work. I’m available, with notice, and I’ll try almost anything once. I will hold you down. I’ll build you up. I’m charming with your family, and I’ll be friends with your friends. 

There’s girls that you engage, and there’s girls that you’re gonna marry. I’ve been engaged, twice even. Never married. Not yet. I don’t know that I’m even ready to be that girl. But, I’m down the street and around the corner from the final level, and it makes me want to vomit in my shoes…a little bit. 

Marriage isn’t necessarily the finale any more. Divorce is always on the back burner. It’s just simmering waiting for either person to turn up the heat. Sheesh. But, I’d like to think I’ll only do it once. I want to believe it will work until something like forever.

When I’m ready. 

Maybe I’m just the dateable girl. Converting into the live with girl. Always the plus one and vacation with girl. The never ending friends with girl. Maybe those are my levels. 

But, true success lives just outside of our comfort zone, right? Maybe? That could just be a clever self help slogan. 

We end up living through the levels. It’s life changing. It’s challenging. It can be overwhelming. 

So, I’m almost in the last level. Struggling, but I’m here. And, I’ll do my best to see it through. Because this is the plan. And before I got to this level, it was all I ever wanted. Now that I’m here and it doesn’t look the way I expected it to look or feel how I expected it to feel, I’m doubting everything. EVERYTHING. But, I’m going to try. 

 If it all goes to shit, I can just start over…right?

That’s not really how I’m moving into this, but it’s the truth. If it all goes to shit, we move forward…battered and bruised. That’s okay too. 

Side note: This post went in its own direction. Definitely organically written, zero planning, and off the cuff. 

I. Am. Lonely. 

Yep, I’m announcing my loneliness. It’s the truth, but I am NOT desperate. No way. 

I live in the Houston area. I was put here in chaos, but I’m not bitter. Seriously, I’m not. This area has been good to me, for the most part. I’m learning a lot about myself from this situation. And, it’s gonna be okay. 

So…I left everything and mostly everyone I knew behind. Took an opportunity, packed my bags, and hit the road. And, then everything kind of fell apart. My son didn’t do well here. He moved back home, and returned to his normalcy. I stayed. I’m obligated. 

Again, I started dating a guy that I’d been dating. We were doing well, and then we weren’t. My uncle passed away. My dad had a horrible car accident. It was all in a matter of a couple of days. 

I broke in half. 

I realized that everyone I need and love is too far away. I felt incredibly alone. I was lonely. I am lonely. It was too much. 

So I felt like I needed people. I needed to be surrounded by people. I needed attention. And, I took dates. 

Bad idea. 

The people I wanted were out of reach, physically and emotionally. 

Bad idea. 

Bad date.  

Bad coping. 

And now, I just need to sit quietly. 

The gang is here. My brother and dad arrived today. My kid and mom are coming this weekend. The guy has a standing invite. And, I’ll be okay. 

Side note: Nothing happened when I took dates. It was coping, and even in loneliness I didn’t want to be kissed or touched. Thanks for the compliments and the dinner. Now, lose my number. I’m good.