Goldilocks and The Big Bad Wolf Part 2
Last time I checked she didn’t keep a calendar of when I was ovulating! Last time I checked there are plenty of women who are having kids in their late 30’s early 40’s.
I know I am a little late posting this conclusion. But better late than never!
As if she hadn’t already insulted me enough. And been way too intrusive on my personal life. This bitch then put the nail on the coffin.
The Bitch: Well if I were you I would certainly consider getting your eggs frozen to be on the safe side.
I couldn’t believe that this bitch had the audacity to say that to me. Last time I checked she didn’t keep a calendar of when I was ovulating! Last time I checked there are plenty of women who are having kids in their late 30’s early 40’s. So once again, I turned it back on her. Since this bitch was all in my Kool Aid I was going to get in hers.
ME: Why didn’t you have your eggs frozen?
The Bitch: Well you seem to want to give birth to your own children. For me that wasn’t important but back then they didn’t have that option available.
When I got in my car and headed over the hill to my home. I was perplexed, annoyed, pissed off, and confused by the conversation. First of all I thought that I was going to end up having another mentor. Another fabulous single woman who was older than me that I could bounce ideas off. Instead, I got a rude, judgmental bitch. And for a nano second I started to wonder if my blog was good enough. If I was just another 1 in a 1,000,000 relationship bloggers trying to make a name for myself. I thought about the dating scene. That maybe my time was ticking. And I began to freak the fuck out. I literally had a panic attack. Sweating and heart palpitations and all. I had to pull over and get myself together!
After taking deep calming breaths I concluded that she was just a miserable woman who was having a bad day. I also concluded that perhaps she looked at my hopefulness and realized that her possible cynicism was what lead to her ultimately being mean, alone, and judgemental. I concluded that I would never allow myself to become that woman. The very thing that has prevented me from becoming a Bitter Betty is the belief that I will meet my true soul mate. The thing that makes my blog interesting is because it comes from a place of hopefulness not a place of male bashing and cynicism. I realized this woman was brought into my life as an example of what not to be. And I am thankful for that. And with that I brushed off our chance encounter and made the executive decision to never reach out to her ass again. IF I saw her in public I would keep it moving!
The only interesting thing she did point out is that when I am creating a character I have to think about how that character is flawed. No character is perfect. Since I am the main character in blog I thought long and hard about what my tragic flaw was. What made me imperfect? If I was honest with myself I had a long list.
1- I had recently put on a few extra pounds (thank God I got the flu and was able to lose them). GOD is good!
2- I really didn’t need that expensive leather skirt I recently purchased. That could have gone towards something more practical.
3- I cussed like a sailor.
4- I drink like a fish.
5- I don’t know how to say no to a good party/ event until my body shut down with the flu.
6- I’m always running late.
I was the fucking black Goldilocks! And that bitch I encountered was the big bad wolf there to blow my house down! Granted I know these are two different fairy tales but when you combine it all together it’s the same damn thing.
Then as I finished washing my face and was patting my face dry. It hit me like a ton of bricks. I looked in the mirror. At my blond highlighted hair and I realized I was Goldilocks! I was the fucking black Goldilocks! And that bitch I encountered was the big bad wolf there to blow my house down! Granted I know these are two different fairy tales but when you combine it all together it’s the same damn thing. Think about it. When it came to dating, I always found something wrong (justifiably) but it was always something. I recently didn’t return a phone call to a man I had met because I didn’t like the shape of his finger nails. I swear I did. What that fuck was my problem? The men I dated were comparable to the porridge that Goldilocks just didn’t like! Perhaps I was finding things wrong in guys because I had built up a house made of straw when I was married and the reality of the big bad wolf had huffed and puffed and blew that house down. Then over the last few years, post divorce I felt like I had built a house of sticks with all the bad dates. Each one being blown to shreds before I real relationship could start. But now I had finally built a house made of brick. I was confident and knew what I wanted. The big bad wolf attempted to blow this house down and was unsuccessful. However, in an effort to make sure the big bad wolf didn’t come to blow this house down, perhaps I had built up a brick wall to protect myself. That’s why I was always finding something wrong. That was my tragic dating flaw. We all have them. One flaw doesn’t make another woman’s flaw less of a flaw. A flaw is a flaw. I stood in silence because this was a major epiphany for me. As open as I was, I was still indeed closed. It is time for me to maintain my brick house, but make sure I keep the curtains open so I can experience the sunshine, keep the windows open so I can experience the breeze. You can still have a strong brick house but if it is made with nothing but brick and you aren’t letting the sun and air in what is the purpose? What is your tragic dating flaw? This first step to fixing a problem is acknowledging that you actually have one. To know better is to do better.
