Mary B and the City

An apple a day keeps the assholes away.

There is nothing I love more than a 3-course meal of delicious irony. Although frankly, sometimes I have a hard time believing that perfectly layered stories unraveling as though scripted by a brilliant screenplay writer aren’t all that coincidental. Maybe it is really just God up there crafting scenes for our amusement to keep us entertained as we navigate the complexities of life.

Weeks before Mr. Ex and I broke up, we discussed seeing a premarital counselor together. Given our history and the state of the [broken] union, enlisting the help of a professional seemed like a smart decision. While in the first few months of our last & final courtship, determining if we could indefinitely be together, we both agreed that the most efficient use of our time would be with a 3^rd party, unbiased, relationship expert. They could help guide us in reconciliation, past issues manifesting in the present, and give us communication tools to get through this process.

By the end of the weekly couch sessions, I figured we’d at least have a definitive understanding in either direction [yes we could live happily ever after, or not]. My bottomline was to get to the bottomline as soon as possible. After spending seven years with the guy followed by a one year break, I had no more time to waste.

The fact that I was on the brink of calling my health insurance provider, which kicked in [thanks to my new job] on March 1, only to find out that he was cheating on me, cracks me up. How ridiculous would that have been to invest time, gas money, and squeeze in a crowded counselor’s appointment book…for what? To deceive just one more person in the crossfire of his double life?

So here I am, now medically insured again after a 60 day new employee waiting period, and decided it would be in my best interest to see a counselor, solo. The reasons are limitless, but to name a few – deal with the emotional and mental abuse – help me navigate back into the single ladies seat and not sabotage perfectly good guys because of my trust issues – understand why I even put up with such a reckless relationship for as long as I did – so on and so forth.

I have been a shameless self-help advocate for at least a dozen years. When Dr. Phil and his witty, tell-it-like-it-is bald head first appeared on Oprah before he became main stream, I was hooked. That timeframe was probably the beginning of my journey to self awareness. Now my Crate & Barrel ladder-style bookshelf that leans up against the brick wall in my living room is stuffed with paperbacks crafted by relationship gurus, psychologists/psychiatrists, PhD’s, spiritual guides, academic professors, life coaches, etc. They are highlighted, underlined, flagged and scribbled on.

Earlier today I called the insurance hotline to qualify for an initial set of free appointments. As I was dialing the number, I had a smirk on my face… “To think, just a few short weeks ago I was planning on calling this exact number for a co-appointment with a conartist.” The soft spoken lady on the other end of the line [after compiling my basic stats] asked *the* million dollar question, “So, what is it that you need to see a counselor about?” Dead silence. Quickly, MB, how do you answer this??

The lady continued in lieu of my hesitation, “I’m a therapist and am not trying to be nosey. I’m simply trying to align you with the appropriate person in the area you need counseling in.”

Fair enough. I responded, “In short, I dated someone for about 8 years who was mentally and emotionally abusive and I’d like to sort through the aftermath.” She immediately shot off several questions, none of which pertained to me [Are you in danger? Are you in fear of your life? Are you living with this person? Etc.] No, no, no. She then asked about the actual break-up itself, the ending – literally,how that went down.

I explained a bit more context as to why I made my decision initially to not continue in the “relationship” and how shortly thereafter some extracurricular physical activities behind my back with another female were brought to my attention, which only solidified my termination decision. She matter-of-factly said, “Ok… so I’m going to categorize this case as a ‘power and controlling’ issue. He had the power, controlled your relationship, and only his desires mattered, not yours.” Finished with an encouraging and validating, “Good for you — for getting out.”

Well damn. Yeah, I guess that’s about right.

I’ve got some homework to do as far as choosing the most compatible friend for hire, but I’m happy, and proud of myself, to take the right steps in reconciling with my Self. Just as I diligently & proactively tend to my body through annual & biannual meetings with primary care physicians & their speciality counterparts, I’ll do the same for my inner spirit. No longer will I play the role of his victim. Nor will he indirectly ruin my chance at a healthy, happy future. My dating companions, and ultimately husband, will not have to pay for his debts.

Golden questions.

I grew up in an upper middle class, caucasian, suburban household under strict Catholic parents with rigid rules. And while, scientifically speaking, I should probably be attracted to what is most “familiar” to me, I’ve always gravitated toward pigmented testosterone prototypes for my partners. Jokingly, my family would blame it on my *ethnic past life* — but I’m starting to believe I really may have had one.

Without scouring through detailed facets of organized religion and/or arguing philosophical inquiries, it honestly never, ever dawned on me that we would exist before and/or after this particular lifetime. That isn’t what I was taught, and therefore was all I ever knew.

But after reading book, upon book, upon book (which by the way were totally unrelated to each other and at the time did not know that this subject would even be covered within the pages), I now can’t help but wonder…is it possible that our souls change outfits? Is it possible that we do in fact need more time than a mere 60-90 years, give or take, to adequately learn lessons — making us holistically sound inside & out to be worthy of eternal tranquility?

I’m quite certain that by the time my own funeral comes, I will not have come to a firm belief either way. Unless of course God himself shows me, otherwise it will remain as a pondering What If that will fascinate my extremely inquisitive spirit.

Besides the extremely rational and logical explanations that I’ve digested through multiple soft and hardback covers, I also go back to my personal experiences and am forced to reflect…

Was I a shitty, self-centered person in a past life, and that is why I am facing what I am today in relationships? Is this my karma playing itself out, teaching me what it is like to hurt from selfish, egotistical people? This may sound absurd or extreme but stay with me for a second. For as long as I can remember, I’ve primarily been a very thoughtful, sensitive, compassionate and caring person. I’m also street smart and not too shabby in the book smart department. So it just doesn’t make any sense why I’d continually fall into relationships that are traumatic and mentally abusive. Perhaps this is my current life’s lesson playing itself out.

I’ve also heard about instances of negative experiences in our past lives playing out in subsequent lives. For example, someone has an unexplained fear of water/drowning. Yet in this lifetime they themselves have absolutely no recollection of a scare as a child [nor their parents] to cause this terror, but the phobia is completely debilitating. Some practitioners theorize that this is called past life regression and can be exposed through hyponosis to help them recall memories and connect the dots.

That begs yet another question — is there really an intrinsic third eye that we can tap into, allowing a greater sense of higher consciousness?

So circling back to my original point of opposite sex attraction. You can pretty much guarantee that if the man is a 1st or 2nd generation spawn from overseas such as Latin America, Africa, Middle East or the Mediterranean — I will fancy the chap. Foreign cultures, customs, dances, languages and traditions. Love, love, love them. But I can’t explain it. I don’t know where the heck that came from.

Additionally I’ve also been told on countless occasions (many times by elders) that I’m “wise beyond my years” and “have an old soul.” Which again, I always took as idioms. To be honest though, I really do *feel* older, like I’ve lived/experienced much more than I actually have in 30 years. At the risk of soundy corny, I also feel immense kinship toward nature and animals…there is something so special and sacred about them.

And as each birthday passes, the more tuned-in I’ve become to the afterlife, experiencing communication whether through dreams, while praying, or in a quiet atmosphere. A few times I visited with a Medium who told me I needed to balance my Chakras. What was crazy about that is I didn’t even know that there was a “term” for it*, but I knew exactly what he meant without any explanation [*they are focal points for the reception and transmission of energies].

All of these puzzle pieces are beginning to form a profound shape on my spirit, a clearer picture. Although I identify with Catholicism doctrine from childhood, yet empathize with Buddhism teachings as an adult, I feel at peace with not necessarily knowing all the answers, or marrying myself to one particular religious following.

The Golden Rule is what I ultimately try to live by — be kind to others. My hope is that the ethical code will always serve as my guide, in this lifetime, and beyond.

How Mary Got Her Groove Back.

Over the last week I’ve spent an extraordinary amount of time thinking through, analyzing, fact-finding, and internalizing the façade that was my former faux relationship. I even lost sleep for the first several days, waking up at all hours of the night, with the inconceivable deception weighing heavily on my mind. What I ultimately netted out was that I’ll simply never truly understand what his motives were, why he wasted my time (again), and that trying to instill logic with someone who is a purebred narcissist is a lose-lose situation.

I have also received word from his camp of peers with both condolences and candid conversation, which made me feel better — knowing they genuinely weren’t aware of the double life he was leading. Like I’ve always believed, the truth comes out, eventually. But this time it came in the form of an explosive, fireworks show…not only compromising our final outcome as a couple, but even lying to his own entourage.

This next piece of news didn’t come as a surprise — but apparently he isn’t too happy with my recent blog postings. That insight isn’t anything new though, as he was never really happy with it. Although complimenting my writing skills and pushing me to make money off of it, he *hated* being a lead character [despite the fact I made him out to be a romantic rock star]. So I’m sure his sour taste still holds true, now more than ever. But the truth is — this is my life and my outlet. He is finally being held accountable for his own actions, period. Words are only words. His malicious actions will never hold a candle to my sticks & stones literary documentation that only mirrors truth.

With all of that said, I made a pact with myself at the inception of this shitstorm. I gave myself one full week to say whatever I wanted to say, do whatever I wanted to do, and allow myself to feel whatever emotions bubbled up. I didn’t have the mental or physical capacity to go to the gym, grocery store shop, prepare food, or any other regular routine that typically takes a lot of discipline. I’m usually pretty hard on myself as far as strictness goes but knew that being kind to my fragile Self was the best option (with parameters as to not completely fall off the health wagon).

Lastly, I realized that I do not need a textbook incubation period to “heal” or “be alone” post break-up. I did that over a year ago, and recently hit pause to see if him & I could ever really be…….and scene. So now I’m just hitting the play button and moving on with my life, again.

A lot more time on my hands over a 7-day grace period also allowed me to think through next steps [and by next steps I mean husband shopping]. Back in November I was undergoing an intense dating binge. Then, when Mr. Ex swooped back in early December… dangling the elusive marriage mirage in my face, bachelors were put on the backburner and indefinitely disposed of. There was no way I could focus on a legitimate reunion with the love of my life while half-ass dating unassuming and innocent boys. Well, there is one exception.

Quarterback, or QB for short, never left the sidelines. Although I fully disclosed my situation to him and was well-aware of the infamous ex-files, he strategically stuck around in a very discrete yet respectful way…sporadic text messages asking how I’m doing, a few emails here and there, coupled with several unplanned gym run-ins. He’d even cross my mind when not directly in sight, but I pushed those feelings way down to not complicate the already complicated circumstance I was knee-deep in. 

This is a guy who I dated for two months exactly 1 year ago, and briefly reconnected with during said dating binge in November. I can confidently say that if he hadn’t unknowingly been flanked by Mr. Ex, we’d probably still be hanging out today. I’d even go as far to say he likely would have surpassed all the other gents in the running at that time.

This was a huge ‘ah ha’ moment for me as I sat back and forecasted my future in the singles seat. Do I jump back into online dating [cringe]? Do I reach back out & reengage with the fellas from November? Do I simply do nothing and have faith that my lifelong partner will approach me in our mutual dentist office’s waiting room?

Or, do I get real with QB and give him the opportunity of a real chance? The guy has shown me more attention and affection than I know what to do with. Not to mention he could be Tay Diggs’ body double for goodness sake.

This decision is a not only a no brainer, but what I like to call a win-win situation.

Insanity.

Part of the 12-step breakup aftermath program is purging reminders of the now Mr. Ex [Editor’s Note: He will no longer maintain the title of Mr. Big moving forward]. Since our last and final round only lasted 3 months, and the fact he barely visited my apartment, there wasn’t a ton of physical items to dispose of.

A special photo from years ago of him wrapping his arms around me that was perched on my dresser, a few stuffed animal monkeys hanging from the ceiling, our NYC trip collateral that I saved as souvenirs, and a toothbrush.

Last night as I was going to bed, I noticed a manilla folder sitting on top of a storage container. It was the custom made portofolio that he had presented during the infamous “change” limo excursion in December. In fact, the contents, time, and thought that went behind putting it together was one of the key factors in deciding to give him one last chance.

Inside was resume quality cardstock paper covered in his handwriting, ranging from a bullet point “priority list” of the specific things he knew would need to be addressed in our reconcilation complete with sub-bullets and examples, the one (1) poem he crafted in the earlier part of our relationship (that I actually asked for — who asks for a love letter?), 2-pages of chronicled ”memories” transcribed from over the years, as well as a 2004 printed email he found that originally came from me…attached with a words of wisdom list written by the Dalai Lama.

During that romantic ride around town while being taken through the materials, this handheld container’s contents blew my mind. I had never seen (literally or metaphorically), in all of our past reunions, the level of thoughtfulness and transparency. And then, to top it off, at the bottom of the 9th inning, close the game with Holier than thou Dalai friggin’ Lama. I was Impressed.

The last few days I’ve had a terrible time trying to connect the dots from his extreme bells & whistles manuvers to almost immediately turning around and having an affair behind my back. Trying to comprehend this only exacerbates my already frigid 7-11 Super XL size brain freeze. Now I come across this infamous seal-dealing presentation and all I could do was grin.

I climbed into bed with the fraudulent folder to amuse myself with some light reading before drifting to sleep. Quick scans through the sheets effected me as much as reviewing my car insurance monthly statement; totally and completely meaningless. Except…when I got to His Holiness. Line, after line, after line made me realize that there is absolutely no way in God’s green earth that when he was copying the words from my original email that he could have actually taken the time to intellectually digest them. He is a living comic. He is the Joker.

Like when you’re reading a book and unknowingly drift off in your subconscious thoughts, then realize you have no idea what the last few paragraphs said, and go back to re-read…that is what he did. Because it is simply impossible that he could have referenced these profound and powerful life laws and be capable of simultaneously stabbing me in the back.

1. Take into account that great love and great achievements involve great risk.
2. When you lose, don’t lose the lesson.
3. Follow the 3 R’s — Respect for self, Respect for others, Responsibility for all your actions.
4. Remember that not getting what you want is sometimes a wonderful stroke of luck.
5. Don’t let a little dispute injure a great relationship.
6. When you realize you’ve made a mistake, take immediate steps to correct it.
7. Remember that silence is sometimes the best answer.
8. A loving atmosphere in your home is the foundation for your life.
9. In disagreements with loved ones, deal only with the current situation. Don’t bring up the past.
10. Remember that the best relationship is one in which your love for each other exceeds your need for each other.
11. Approach Love and Cooking with reckless abandon.

Earlier in this post I jokingly mentioned a 12-step breakup program. I find it ironic that there were 11 points on this list.

My final step to round out this list is understanding the definition of Insanity [as written within the real 12-step program for addicts]: Doing the same thing over and over, expecting a different result.

He didn’t really change afterall. But I did.

Happily ever after.

According to a new study done at the Geneva School of Business, the likelihood of success in a marriage can actually be predicted with mathematical precision. Researchers claim to have cracked the formula for wedded bliss: The woman should be five years younger than the man, from the same background, and 27 percent more intelligent. I’m assuming that 27 percent is the difference between a bachelor’s and a master’s degree?

Other results of the study showed that married couples are happiest 11 months and eight days after tying the knot, feel most comfortable with each other at just under three years, and have their best sex life after two years and four months. Also, the husband helping with household work peaks at three years, weekend getaways drop off after three years and four months, and couples who remain faithful tend to have at least 24 minutes of heart-to-heart convo each day and never go to bed angry. -TheFrisky.com