"God doesn't bless where you don't belong"I'm a SUCKER for the story. Another guy I met in real life.
Flirty banter, per usual. But looking back on the convo, it was really little effort on his part...He used one of MY messages as a segway to set-up a date. Hmm... Humorous part is I was leaving a date when he inquired if I was still out. I informed him of my double the next day and asked, "who said I wanted you to crash my party?" He assured me it would be adding to the party. "Shhhyeah, but it is crashing the party if it's a date. For all you know, it could have been." #guilty He used THAT as his opportunity to ask me out!!! "Maybe Friday evening we can't do that?" I had to ask for clarity and he indeed asked me out. Sure, I'm not an innocent party here but then again, I was honest... he just didn't believe me. *shrugs* He picked a place for us to meet. Didn't even offer to pick me up. CLUES? So how does a lady respond to that? Well she get's her best friend to drop her off and she pregames, of course! 3 shots of vodka in on an empty stomach and I strut up the alley. Bowling alley that is. He said I looked beautiful and put our name on the bowling list. We made our way to the bar for MORE drinks. It was 8pm because he had just gotten off work so I know he didn't have time to eat. After our second drink at the bar I asked, "are you hungry?" "I could eat." "Well I'm gonna have to eat soon with drinking. I had a couple shots before I got here," I confessed. He laughed. "Cause I took so long? Yeah, we can eat after this." If this "clue" wasn't enough, he didn't wait for a romantic moment or comment, he just leaned over and kissed me. Drunk me kissed him back and lingered. *facepalm* After sweeping the lane and striking my 6'2 date out.... errrr sparing some time to show him how to bowl. I asked where we were getting nourishment and if he could give me a ride home. He said he didn't mind the place we picked was 3 minutes in the opposing direction of my house and then we got a booth. More kissing commenced and he revealed his 10 year relationship that ended 3 years ago. Things still seemed to be moving along. Hand holding, he didn't get my door, but I was still into it. Also, I was still inebriated. 8 shots of vodka, whiskey, and vodka redbull will do that to ya ;) Outside my house was where my puzzler got sore. He..... hope there's not sensitive ears here. He bent me over his car and pressed against me like a thumb to a stamp on the corner of an envelope. One large hand tugged at my hair while the other lightly gripped my neck. His tongue found my neck and just when my breathing quickened he backed up. Gasping for air I turned my whole head, staring at him blankly. "I have to work tomorrow at 6am." "Wow, you're a tease." He smirked before I could say, "wow, that's what this feels like." I scoffed and turned toward the gate outside my house. I muttered a wish of safe travels and luck for his shift tomorrow and I punched my number into the gate while he backed up. I don't even think he checked to see I made it into the house before peeling onto the road. Texted me two hours later "I'm home" when he only lives 40ish minutes away. From there, the conversation was about the business he had ahead and friend he was picking up from the airport. I can't be jealous if it was a girl but that was when our convo ended. ^^Even his mailbox has a red flag! I guess all do but... I liked him :(( I asked God if this boy was just going to hurt me, to remove him from my life."And he did." Not gonna correct the grammar or point out that a text message takes all of 58 seconds; I'm just going to take Blue's clues and God's answer to my prayer. 2 cups blanched almond flour
1 cup creamy almond butter ½ cup maple syrup 1 tsp. vanilla extract ½ tsp. cinnamon freeze-dried blueberries sprinkles
https://www.nickelodeonparents.com/these-blues-clues-you-cookies-are-all-bark-no-bake/
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How sad is it that a Netflix series had to shake me about my inability to walk a-way when red flags, intimation, manipulation, and dare I say gas lighting? Gosh I'm a counselor and I can't see it in my life!!! So... the show is "Dirty John" and my bestie and I watched it together and to say it. was. painful. is an understatement. The way he undermines his victims and belittles and controls them with guilt made me want to crumble. Like cookies. Let's review the first guy I connected with in a year since being on a dating app:
And the beat goes on.....This guy doesn't even deserve his own post so we're gonna piggy back. SPOILER ALERT: He was the little piggy that weee weee weee'd all the way home On our first date was adorably nervous and MUCH more attractive in person. He was quirky and adorable and a tall glass of water. He is "not much of a drinker" yet he drank Makers like it was water. Cool that you can hold your liquor but this set the stage for the rest of the date. Enter stage left, he revealed he is on probation and "usually [doesn't] reveal that on the first date." Then, he used this motion. On. The. First. Date. To. A. Stranger. "Since my person is probably in Spain or something.... so I'm trying to find someone who can accept me for who I am here. " My eyes widened as he continued. "That and I have a really high sex drive and am tired of doing this [insert gesture] alone." To seal it with a kiss, and I did, he put dip in his mouth and also said, "See? I would usually wait till you were in the bathroom before putting this in my mouth." WHUT?! Had to spell it wrong for emphasis. GOODNIGHT, Steph!! Pardon my French but.... what the FUCK!?!? |
Who the hell did I think I was? I know there's a movement right now about girls being able to play the field and take their emotions out of physical interactions, but I need to face the bass-buzzing, window-down-blaring music that I'm different. My emotional capacity is not that of your average bear. Oh, did I forgot to give you the earth-shattering conclusion of this crush? GHOSTED. |
This is how the world works: you gotta leave before you get left." - T Swizzle
So, something finally has to give.... "I'm sorry [enter names here], I'm cleaning out my closet." Call it spring cleaning for my soul!
Doesn't automatically render a space
In your jumbled head of drafted plans
Shading the night to grays and tans
He brushed your curl aside as if it were practice
Outlined your firm expression that of an actress
Breathing close in a rhythm to hypnotize
Temporary this moment, yet to realize
Just because the scene has set doesn't mean he is
On the syllables of your name or how it sounds with his
So don't mistake a mere glint for an enlightening
You'll meet a thunder, fit to be his lightening
Those that are supposed to offer unconditional concern often shoot betrayal from their fingertips as snares dangle from their earlobes. Such medieval imagery leaves little hope for complete strangers. How could a new face and new name combat such an evil expectation? It only takes one time to touch a hot element before thinking twice, given another chance.
But where does this leave you? Feeling with fear first, and then tiptoeing around life with the leftover emotions? What about feeling sand between your toes, hearing a baby's giggle, or seeing a puppy smile? You have to leave the tiptoeing for ballet and prance into opportunities outside of the studio.
It took me until I crossed Atlantic on Christmas Eve night to unfriend a combination of friends, acquaintances, and scrub-a-dubdubs that deemed less than worthy of my effort. Cleaning house is more than just a literal expression for the spring time. I unfriended 10 people and quite frankly, wish I would have done so sooner. A day will always consist of 24 hours (unless you're changing time zones of course, which in my Euro Trip #2, I did so 4 times). Don't. Waste. A. Minute.
I won't bore you with all ten, but here is one that we were quite friendly and it looked quite promising for us to go out, but then he stood me up. GHOST the night we were supposed to go out in downtown Dallas. It was already going to be an hour drive, but I felt he was worth that.... he obviously did not feel the same.
Although most girls (or guys in this situation) would have removed this person from their phone and their hope chest, I for some reason unbeknownst to me, did not. I must admit, I got a little snappy, but.... one couldn't argue I didn't fight fear to confront the inconsiderate slime.
Hollows out human of pain never anticipated
Bellowing in barefoot basement decisions
Outlining bones of dark premonition
Stale salute from windowless walls
Infinity in shambles, conclusion calls
Curtain closes lungs-- short of suffocation
Black lace to hang for smug celebration
Wings as the carpet and candles with no wicks
Remains swept away in hollowed red bricks
The crow gave up cawing as dusk won the fight
Embedded in another extinguishes light
Steph
While bartenders are cute and witty, they are also paid to flirt and increase their tips. That's why you have to sift through the compliments and take your heart out of it. GAHH is that easier said than done. I constantly have found myself taking one little thing a boy did for me or say to me and create this fantasy of a life this could be.
If a guy says he wants me, I believe he means for commitment.
If a guy says I look pretty, you would've thought no one had ever told me that a day in my life.
If we talk on the phone for 4 hours, I assume this is going to become part of a routine.
If we plan things in the future, I'll believe we'll actually have one.
And on and on and... oh yeah, ON!
And THAT'S why I am taking this single thing seriously. That's why I still write about dates I've been on and entertain new relationships only to a small degree. Trust is something so precious, that it's a rarity I seldom indulge.
Do people (mostly guys) call me selfish and a slut and a serial dater? YOU BETCHA. Am I going to give power to those empty words when I'm still discovering what is most beneficial for me? Who else is going to have your best interest at heart? Even for these guys, who is going to have THEIR best interest if they don't?
To quote Gigi, "I know I put myself out there too much, but at least that means I still care."
Keep caring, my friends.
No longer in the shadows.....
When did intimacy become casual? Or better yet, when did it become an expectation?
"Why didn't you just sleep with him? It isn't a big deal..."
But maybe that was my point. Why isn't it a big deal whom I decide to let in, more than just physically? When did it stop becoming one? He didn't even call me beautiful or anything other than sexy. Every person is beautiful (yes, you reading this). I just want to know when sex became as casual as day drinking.
Has it become a 2019 standard to reward a mediocre dinner and a few over-priced cocktails for sex? While what-- I twirl my balayage hair, holding $23 of product and most of my self-esteem? And then what? I'm left with unraveling attachment, an additional "notch in my lipstick case," and underground worth. All while he thinks about.... I don't know-- ANYTHING ELSE. Even if the guy in no form or fashion was prince charming, thoughts of "why was I not enough to stay" suffocate me. It's a form of rejection I can't combat.
The standard deviation is the perception of the interactions with these intimacies. This blog is a platform for scrutiny in its purest form. It is a tightrope between Slut Shaming or Prude Patronizing, either way, you fall flat on your face.
So, you keep your little black book in your dresser or turn it into a blog. Guess I took the road less traveled and yet I still hesitate. I hold back details that could reveal the identity of the "misters" that have made their debut. I insinuate very little about the physical course of every interaction to allow an element of mystery and one of imagination for the reader. With imagination comes great responsibility and... apparently judgement.
Ahh! There's the slut shaming you were talking about, Stephanie.
What's humorous to me is the vast assumption made that I sleep with all these misters. Not to mention, the reinforcement of that "standard" that if a guy buys you craft beers at a Minneapolis brewery, brings you flowers before taking you to the Charleston Ballet, or even takes you to Disney World for a first date, you're obligated to sleep with him. Well, spoiler alert: of those three lavish, but real dates I went on, I didn't sleep with any of them.
- Not because I'm a prude.
- Not because I'm trying to rein in on myself for "the others."
- Because they weren't right and I didn't want to.
Now wait a minute.... He took you Disney and you didn't get intimate with him? How was that not a home-run?
And THAT'S the prude patronizing I'm talking about. Either way, I'M WRONG.
I've lived my whole life not wanting to cause any trouble or be in it. I've been driven by guilt, far-fetched promises, one-sided relationships, and acceptance. I've apologized for things I didn't do and problems I couldn't have begun to ignite. I've been a doormat in floods and used up like a marker; even the brightest marker in the box runs out of ink.
So, I guess mostly for myself, but also for the "misters" mentioned here and soon to come (I have at least 8 stories itching to be revealed from the last couple weeks ;) I'm not sorry that I didn't sleep with you even if you expected it or felt like you deserved it.
Such a crazy thing for me to type... but, I think I mean it. Yeah, I do :))
Standard recipe? Bring your own icing and write your sweet ending.
Author
Chef Steph cooking up trouble. If she can't find anything real, she bakes real good sweets. Chocolate really may mend a broken heart...
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