Family Ties

My mother was married at the ripe age of 28. She had her first of two at 30.

My grandfather had his first of three children at 30.

My great-grandmother, and my namesake, had first of her four children at 30.

So, here I am, having just turned 29. On one hand, I feel free of the imaginary binding that said I had to be married at 28. When I met, and had an affair, with a 40 year-old when I was 28, I was simultaneously excited and frightened (my father was 40 when they were married). Now, I'm 29 and he's 41 and I feel a little relieved that I have dodged that bullet.

But the bullet is him, only, not the prospect of marrying. Not the future life with someone, the pitter patter and all that. I want to get married. I desperately want to have children. And yet. . .

I see what my married friends have and do, and what my parented friends have and do, and for the most part I am not envious. Yes, it would be handy to have someone around to help me fix the ceiling fan, or to take out the trash, or to yell at me for not doing the dishes. But to check in with someone, always, to feel my personal and professional life (after hours) is in direct competition with that someone, to handle the resentment and the checking in and the constant accountability. I have the freedom now to make decisions on a whim, to change my mind, to be selfish.

Most days, I still doubt I'll meet someone I want to marry who also wants to marry me. I know that's trite and everyone else tells me that I'm silly and that's what they thought until they met The One. But it's still how I feel.

More than anything, I worry that I don't actually want to be a wife as much as I want to be a mother. Nothing is less attractive than a woman who doesn't need you, right?

I've got one more year to have a baby. And while I know THAT is silly, based on the genetics, I still seem to believe it.

Resisting Temptation

It has been a strange few weeks. It's more than me just being "back in the game." It's like I'm back, but on steroids. I wonder if this is simply the confidence of getting older and knowing myself and that I'm great, or if it's something else.

First, there was the liar. Met him in a bar, making a bet about who was older in exchange for a cigarette. He managed to guess exactly the right year, claiming to be exactly my age. And he was cute. And charming. And a good dancer. And, let's face it, I'd been drinking.

So, one thing lead to another, there was a visit to Ms. Mae's, and then it was pouring outside. All of a sudden, we're hot and heavy in a downpour in his backyard.

Hours later, in his bedroom, naked and smoking cigarettes out the window, he says, "So I lied about something..."

Turns out he's 23. All of a sudden, I'm a cougar, except I'm not old enough to be a cougar. And instead of being angry, or leaving, or anything, I just laughed and enjoyed it. And when he tracked me down on Facebook (21st century dating what it is), I wasn't disappointed - just added him as a friend and let him booty text me. Haven't taken advantage of him yet, but it's fun to have one in the bag.


Not two weeks later, my Married Friends had a college buddy in town visiting for Halloween. We had an initial very clear attraction, and I made a playful plan with Wifey to seduce him. Purely to assist them in their attempt to convince him to move to our great city. The next night, I went to their house for the Saints game. After a couple or eight drinks, and on our second or third smoke break, I gave him my 20 minute Joseph Campbell-style life coaching session... and had totally "split his wig." I challenged him to take control of his life. To find the thing that made him happy, and go after it. And it was almost as if I gave him permission to "follow his bliss."

And yes, I knew he had a girlfriend, and no, I didn't particularly care. He needed to be kissed after that, so there it was. The one kiss led to a series of kisses, and a night full of kisses and caresses and no sex. Because I didn't need to, and I knew he couldn't handle it. I had upended his worldview, and it just didn't seem fair to upend his sexview. He was already pretty amazed that I would touch myself while he was in the bathroom.


There are some other little flirtations in there. Other friend's dates. Twitter friends.


I adore all of them, and am enraptured with none of them. They are all resistible.

And yes, when it turned out the Gambler was coming to the same place I was some weeks ago... I fled. I wasn't ready. Is this me not being interested in people interested in me? Getting laid is important, and worth it. And even with the Insurance Adjuster from Columbia, I made a conscious choice to be Present, and enjoy it, and stop thinking I Knew More than he did -- because all that did was keep me distant from him.

I wonder if I'm just ready now. Maybe I have just finally adapted to adult dating.