Reflections On A Relationship

Tomorrow marks three weeks since the end of my most recent relationship. They have been weeks filled with questions and reflection. The questions will never be answered. The reflection will continue until I am satisfied that I have grown as a result of this relationship.

February 12th marked the beginning. A bite to eat at the Bell In Hand followed by a Celtics game. I wasn’t sure if it was a date or not. At that point I didn’t even know his last name. We parted at the Haymarket T Station. The following six months were full of fun. Celtics, Red Sox, Paw Sox, Sea Dogs, KISS, Louis CK, Patton Oswalt, a book signing, movies, eating out, working out and beaching it. There was so much I loved about him. August 20th marked the end.

The reflection is making me realize I overlooked certain things about him and our relationship that I should not have. Sometimes he made me feel stupid and a couple of times he told me I was stupid. I can remember going silent or crying at each instance. Sometimes he turned things on me to make me feel like I was the problem, not him. I can remember going silent or crying at each instance. I worked my ass off for him, to get him places, to support him, to welcome him in to my life, home and family. I created stress in my life that wasn’t necessary. I lost myself in that six months.

I have found myself again in these past three weeks. I don’t want to go through all of that again.

Most people have just been silent or have asked why we are no longer together because we seemed to enjoy each other so much. My official line is “I found emails that made me realize we were on different life paths in life”. I have told the truth about me breaking up with him to some friends, my closest, the ones who will not gasp from shock. The friends I have told have been shocked, but then a couple of minutes later laugh about the situation. Only Celeste. This can only happen to Celeste. It is one of those unbelievable situations, until I show them the proof. You didn’t think I was stupid enough to leave that proof behind did you? He did. It will all be here, on this blog, someday. My daughter thinks she will get it in to her stand up comedy routine at some point, and then her memoirs.

I can find the humor, my daughter can as well. This makes me thankful.


Mother’s Day Identity Crisis

I can still remember the day that I first heard her call me Mom. I had always been Celeste before that.

A conversation a few weeks ago is still being replayed in my head. I had made the following comment early one morning “step mom, adopted mom, whatever you want to call me.” Her reply was “You’re just my Mom”.

I adopted my daughter when she was four, eleven years ago. Her father is her biological father and is also my ex-husband. Her biological mother, her father’s first wife, died of cancer before her first birthday. I have full physical custody following the divorce.

I know in my heart we were led to each other for a reason.  I did not pay attention to the warning signs before getting married. The day I walked down the aisle I told my dad I knew I shouldn’t be getting married. I still walked down that aisle. Something was guiding me, something brought us together. Something has kept us together. She says this is crap and that nothing led us to each other.

I gave her my family, sisters, nieces, nephews and parents. They give her love and protection like their own. I give her everything I can, everything I always wanted. I have made so many mistakes and I hope she will forgive me one day. I know I lack a fundamental maternal instinct and often times don’t know what to do (so I turn to my sister). I know that she will take my poor parenting skills and make better decisions when she becomes a mom.

There are people out there that don’t make me feel like I am a mom because I didn’t give birth to her. They hold conversations and I feel awkward, purposefully excluded. Is it my perception or reality, I do not know. My true friends never, ever make me feel like that and I am thankful for that.

Most Mother’s Days I am alone, or with my own mother. It usually ends up being the weekend she is with her dad and he never offers for her to stay with me (I always make sure she spends Father’s Day with him). My only hope for today is that she is at her biological mother’s grave, spring cleaning, planting flowers and remembering the woman who gave her life, showing respect to the woman who gave her life, the woman she is forever tied to, who will always be her first mom.

Whoever you are, where ever life has brought you, whatever cards the universe has dealt you, whatever choices you have made, my wish for you is love and peace today.  Perhaps one day, my own identity crisis will dissolve.

May The Fourth Be With You

I knew yesterday on Facebook and Twitter I would see that at least once. I didn’t really though.  The person who is the biggest Star Wars fan I know, we aren’t friends any more.  That makes me sad, even though it is for the best.  I have a bumper sticker on my car of a girl with an At-At on a leash.

What I didn’t expect was that I would get a picture from my bestie of a Star Wars fishing pole with the message.  Even though I have known her close to 40 years, I guess I don’t know her that well as Star Wars has never been a topic of conversation.

What I didn’t expect is that I would say it to my daughter on our way home from buying her some sandals.  She asked me to repeat myself, I did and I got the “That is not funny Mom, it is stupid.”

I dated a boy once back in 1996/1997 ( we met in the Boston Chat Room of AOL). We dated for less than a year and went on a vacation to Disney. My nephew who was 3 at the time still remembers him.  When the Star Wars: A New Hope (the enhanced release) came out in 1997, we saw it.  He said Star Wars was stupid.  We never made it to May The Fourth.  Yup, I broke up with a boy because he didn’t like Star Wars.  This boy is referred to sometimes as John #1 or the Boy I Broke Up With Because He Didn’t Like Star Wars.

Will I Have To Endure A Second Decade Of Bad Dates

I spent my twenties going on bad dates.

I spent my thirties married and then divorced.

Will I spend my forties going on bad dates?

The good dates became boyfriends for a brief time.  The bad dates lasted one night and became legends to be discussed over martinis.  Picture it Boston in the mid 90s and these are my blind dates.  A little understanding of the dating life back then is necessary before we dive in to the dating scene now.

PGA Guy – I was stood up by a guy who was touring with the PGA.  This was a blind date.  His cousin had met me and approved of me.  I was supposed to meet him at the Florentine Café in the North End and it was pouring buckets that night.  I made it to the restaurant having parked blocks away.  I spent the night at the bar talking to an off duty officer from the BPD and Chris the bartender.

Knife Guy – I went on a date with a man I had met.  After dinner we walked back to our cars.  They were parked under the expressway between Faneuil Hall and the North End (yeah the best parking lot is no longer there).  All of a sudden he gets creepy and opens up the trunk of his car to a vast assortment of knives.  I couldn’t get in my own car and lock the doors fast enough.

Artistic Guy – I’ve only dated one artistic guy.  I can still remember what I wore that night.  I thought I looked hot, fitted dress with matching tights and shoes.  The shoes were navy, highest heels I ever wore.   We had dinner and were walking along Newbury Street.   I hit a cobblestone and fell flat on my face and it hurt like hell.  I never got asked on a second date.  I always wonder if it was lack of chemistry, the face plant or looking like Violet Beauregarde when she turned in to a blueberry.

Seinfeld Guy – We met at the Cheesecake Factory in Newton.  After the brief introductions we sat at the bar and had a drink.  Seinfeld was on.  The first thing he said was “How about you be Elaine and I’ll be Jerry.”  I should’ve known at that point it was going nowhere.  Had I been fast enough on my feet, I would’ve given him the Elaine push.  I can still remember what I ate that night and offering to pay for the check.  After the meal he asked me to go dancing in the city.  I am not a dancer, I still had an hour drive home and had to be up for work early the next morning.  He asked about 10 more times as I walked to my car.  Fast forward to the next morning and there was an email asking for me to pay him back for dinner.  He wanted his money back.

There were others, they fade from memory as the years go on.  I don’t remember many names.  Stay tuned for the dating scene now.