keep this a secret.
Has anyone ever felt like they were being kept a secret before? I have, and it’s terrible.
Tag: love
here’s a post that is about me, and not boys.
Okay, it’s maybe a little about boys. Well.. relationships, as always.
I’ve been doing okay with the whole dating thing. I met a guy who actually seems like a really good guy, which I feel like was getting tough and making me extremely bitter towards the whole dating scene. Great, right? Wrong! Have you met me?! I am the queen of overthinking everything, and I can break things so very easily. Sometimes, I even break them on purpose. I’ve mentioned before that I like to push people away. It’s like pushing a glass vase off of a shelf to see if it breaks. Guess what… it does! And then you’re all pissed off because you had this lovely glass vase and now, gone. Shattered. Kaput.
Anyway, I haven’t done this yet with this one, but I have noticed something that I thought was worth writing about.
When my walls come down, theirs go up. I think this is because I start any relationship EXTREMELY guarded, and when I start letting someone in, they get this full 100% blast of Tempest that they maybe didn’t expect and certainly weren’t prepared for. Hence: walls. Like oh shit, this girl has a super strong personality and I don’t know how to human anymore! (They probably aren’t thinking that, but you get the gist…)
The new challenge I am now facing is how do I let enough of my true self shine through in the beginning, without feeling vulnerable and afraid to peek over my very well built and well maintained walls. In theory, I should start breaking some of them down. I know this. But guys, I have worked a LONG time on building these bitches up, the idea of tearing them down is terrifying.
Or could it be that I just haven’t met the right person that can handle the me that is scared, and hides, and is afraid to love, but also the me who is passionate, and brave, and over the top? Can I be allowed to have my walls sometimes, but still have someone see me as me? Is that a thing?
Until next time!
XOXO, Tempest.
you’re like, 12.
…another one bites the dust.
I’m seriously, VERY..VERY close to getting myself to a nunnery. This dating shit is insanely terrible! The next one isn’t too bad, but, ugh. Read on.
This happens to be the most recent guy that I cut off. This guy, codename “Perv,” was extremely cute… except for this stupid goddamn earring. Like, really really cute..butttt also maybe a douche. But, because I thought he was cute and fun, I tried to overlook a lot of stuff. Until..ugh, I just couldn’t anymore. I’m sure you’re wondering, how did this guy get the name Perv? Letttt me just tell you.
This guy, at 33, had responses to general conversation that went something like this:
Tempest: Hey, just got done with hot yoga!
Perv: Oh, I bet you are soaking wet.
Or…
Tempest: Sorry I’ve been quiet, crazy busy at work today.. working on a new project.
Perv: I have a project you can work on.
And so on, and so on.
The strange thing is, this guy was completely normal in person. Funny, maybe even charming, did I mention cute? Very cute. But sweet baby Jesus, I felt like I was talking to a prepubescent teenager half of the time.
The other warning signs? If this guy wasn’t making an inappropriate sex joke, he couldn’t take any joke. I tried joking with him several times, and he would make a passive aggressive or condescending comment. Granted, this was via text, so I tried to give him the benefit of the doubt, but it got so bad once that I actually called him to clear things up because he responded in such a shitty way. But really, are you 12?
The straw that broke the camels back… apparently homeboy had a little bit of a drinking tendency. Every time I talked to him, he was on the way to the bar, or hungover, or starting to drink again early on. I am not one to judge anyone’s personal preferences, but you are in your 30’s, and it may be time to give that party life a break. What really did it in was when he chose to start his evening at a bar… an evening we were supposed to be meeting up. Instead of going home and changing out of his grungy construction clothes, he was “forced” into going to a bar, and therefore would be late to meet up with me. Yeah no.
By the way, when I told him I wasn’t going to meet up, he proceeded to tell me how put off he was that I decided not to meet up because he had gone out.
Really? Really dude? Do you honestly think that it’s okay to be late for a date because you needed to stop and get a drink?
Nah son. Cheers, I’m out.
manwhore in training
another recent fun dating-related story. this one didn’t make it to a date, just a phone conversation after matching on bumble.
I don’t consider myself, in any way, a prude. I enjoy sex, but I’m also not a slut. I think sex forms a connection, and therefore shouldn’t be passed around like candy. Have I had casual sex? Sure. But, at 30, it’s not exactly what I’m looking for.
I matched with this guy online, we are going to call him Jafar, because he’s definitely slightly evil, it’s close to his real name, and he is desperately trying to find a magic carpet for all the Ladieeeeeeesss.
We talk via text for a bit, and decide to talk on the phone. Here, I find out a few fun facts about ole Jafar.
- 36 years old and divorced. Fine, I get it, I’m divorced, and I am prepared for that type of background.
- Actively dating. Sure, cool, me too.
- Actively dating multiple people simultaneously. Again, okay, I’m talking to several people at most times, but once it gets to more of a “dating” scenario I try to keep it to just a few.
- When we say multiple, we mean 5-6 at a time. He likes to keep busy. The red flag starts making an appearance.
- Oh and by dating, we mean dating, and usually sleeping with. Okay. Wait. You’re sleeping with several women at a time? Woah. We need to discuss.
Once that last fact popped up, I told him that we were probably not a good match, because although I will date a few people to figure out if there is a connection, I don’t think its really conducive to finding a healthy relationship if you’re sleeping with several people. Also, it’s gross. I don’t want to fuck who you’re fucking. If I did, I would go fuck them.
He seems cool on the phone. He tries to justify it, saying, it’s easier to filter out who is a good match if he is able to explore the situation both “mentally and physically” instead of taking a lot of time with just one person, and that because he’s older, he doesn’t want to waste time. My counterargument: you can’t really get to know anyone if you’re juggling that many at a time, so really, are you saving time? He was steadfast in his opinion. I said hey, good luck to you man, I still feel that way and it’s really a deal breaker for me, but take care. End of conversation.
….hah! not. These guys can’t handle rejection to save their life.
He starts texting me, telling me how he really is safe with his sex life, and I seem smart and have a good head on my shoulders, and he hopes I will reconsider. He continues to say that he’s very loyal and committed… once he commits. Okay, I’m supposed to wait around while you stick your dick in every girl you meet in the meantime? Nah son. I reinforce what I’ve already said. It’s not something I’m okay with, and I’m not going to pretend to be okay with it just for shits and giggles. I’m staying true to me, end of story.
Then things start to take a turn… the ugly side comes out. Seriously, what is it with guys not being able to accept a “no? these days? He tells me that he’s an honest guy and that I can’t see that, and every guy is really doing this, but he just is open about it. I’m like.. okay, sure, that may be the case but.. STILL. DOESN’T. CHANGE. MY. OPINION.
Now he’s ready to try to make a few personal hits. “You’re smart, but you don’t have any of the other qualities that are important to me. Good luck to you, we are obviously not a fit.”
Oh – so it’s my qualities that are lacking? The ones important to you? What are these qualities you speak of, that y]a 30 minute phone conversation releaved I am missing? Is it weakness? Is that a quality I should have and clearly don’t, because I’m not taking your shit? Promiscuity, for not being thrilled to jump in bed with you?
Oh.
I know.
It’s herpes. This guy is clearly looking for herpes. Good luck with that, Jafar! Pretty sure you’ll have no problem finding that sometime soon.
xoxo, Tempest.
..but did you die?
Let’s take it from the top on some of my most fun Northeastern dating stories
This one actually isn’t too bad, but the situation irritated me enough to make it to my blog! I went out with a guy kind of randomly on Sunday. Yes, I met this person on the internet, and I KNOW I’m a huge hypocrite, having sworn off online dating at least 71,213 times. But, alas, times are hard for a girl with a strong RBF and an three+ inch height advantage. So, online dating it is.
This guy, for the purpose of anonymity, will be called “Mr. Unresponsive.” This is probably one of the least original nicknames I have ever come up with, because this guy is literally that terrible about responding, and that is the only memorable thing I took away from this encounter.
I’m being mean, I actually really enjoyed myself on the date, but because of what happened after the date, I want to kind of be a bitch about it. I’m a woman, so sue me.
Anyway, Mr. Unresponsive started off as a really bad communicator. Now, I know I am over the top with communication in most circumstances, so I do try to be a little forgiving, especially if I don’t really know someone’s communication style. Anyway, this guy wasn’t really giving me much in the initial chat on the app we matched on, and still didn’t give me a whole lot when we eventually moved to texting. But, I went with it. I thought to myself, hey, maybe it’s a good idea to meet someone with this little information and let it come out on the date, right? Wrong. This is a bad idea.
The date started a little rocky. About an hour before the date, I texted him to confirm we were still on (I do not want to drive and get stood up, yknow?) and he says “Yeah”. So about 30 minutes later I let him know I’m leaving. I don’t hear back from him, but that’s okay, I don’t really need a response.
We were meeting in his town, because me, being a motherfucking nice girl, offered to drive closer to him so he could pick his favorite spot. I am new to the area, after all, and like checking out new places. So, I drive to the place he picks which happens to be right smack in the middle of some goddamn festival. Which means, there is no way to actually get TO the place. My GPS is all “turn left, turn left,” and I’m like damnit bitch I literally can’t. So, I pull over and text him. “Hey, I’m having trouble finding a way to get to this place, or finding somewhere to park, suggestions?” Nothing. No response. Mind you, it is now about 7:05, we were meeting at 7, and my last message to him was that I was on my way, which he also never responded to.
So, I call him. Natural reaction, right? No answer. So I start driving again, trying to at least decipher where the place is and what side street I can park on, in the middle of a festival, in the middle of a town that I know nothing about, in the dark, with anxiety levels rising through the roof. I was pretty irritated.
A few minutes later he calls back, as I am just finding a spot. He is pretty unapologetic when I’m like “Wow, you chose the most inconvenient place ever.” Anyway, I park and make my way to the restaurant.
First impression, he’s not a bad looking dude, not my normal type but he’s alright. We sit down, we eat, we talk, things seem to actually go pretty well, all things considered. It started off rough, but at the end, I actually felt like it was pretty good.
The date ends, and I head out. I text him to tell him I made it home, and had a great time and let me know if he would like to do it again sometime. No response.
Next day. No response.
Next day. I send him a message saying “How’s your day going?” I’m erring on the side of bold, because I know this guy is probably trying to ghost, and I’m just gonna put a feeler out. After all, he was a pretty shitty texter to begin with, so I try to give him the benefit of the doubt.
No response.
A full goddamn 72 hours later, this guy finally sends something. At this point, I had already written him off as a punk ass bitch for ghosting. His message?
“I had a good time with you, but I didn’t feel a connection, good luck.”
Alright. So at first glance I think, okay, maybe he’s not a bad guy, at least he finally said something and didn’t leave me hanging. But then, I think about it.
I’m sorry, it took you SEVENTY-TWO HOURS to figure this out? You didn’t “feel a connection?” Is there some type of incubation period on connections that I don’t fucking know about? The fuck??
Anyway, it was one date, and definitely not worth any more of my time than I already wasted on this guy, so I just responded “You too, thanks!” Eat a dick. NEXT!
hopeless, not romantic
Oh, dating. Dating, dating, dating, how you make me want to throat punch innocent people and steal candy from children. Dating really is the worst. As you may know if you’ve read a few of my posts before, I recently relocated. My stupid ass, as much as I have said I should NOT date, I am very very bad at it… decided to take a swing and go for it.
Guys, it still is a shit show. Dating is SO BAD.
So, I decided to share some of my misery with the interwebs in a new blog section called “Hopeless, Not Romantic”
Hopeless, Not Romantic will be your insight into just how bad the dating world is for a 30 year old divorcee. Just how bad men have become these days. Just how sad and miserable it is out here for a pretty decent girl. If you are in a struggling relationship, I implore you, check out Hopeless, Not Romantic…and you will understand how important it is to make the somewhat good ones work. If you are thinking about dating, I implore you, fucking don’t, it’s bad.
I hope that you find my adventures in dating to be amusing, and I look forward to sharing them! Someone really oughta benefit from this dumpster fire that I call a dating life.
I think she was afraid to love sometimes. I think it scared her. She was the type to like things that were concrete, like the ocean. Something you could point to and know what it was. I think that’s why she struggled with love. She couldn’t touch it. She couldn’t hold on to it and make sure it never changed.
flagged.
The hardest thing sometimes in fledgling relationships is seeing red flags. And even harder than seeing the red flags are listening to them, and walking away from them when it’s smart to do so.
Historically, I have had a terrible time with part two of the above statement. I can see red flags all day, sometimes from a mile away, but I am a master at justification. This problem usually rears its ugly head with the emotionally unavailable… those signs are ALWAYS there, yet, do I listen? Nope. Neeewwwp.
On the flip side, are red flags always deal breakers? Do they have to be? Or are they things that one should simply be wary of and use as a warning to proceed with caution? After all, no one is perfect, and when you’re dating in your late 20s – early 30s, it’s really hard to find someone without SOME baggage, amirite?
Here’s the other tough part with red flags, and I know this isn’t something that only I have trouble with (lookin at you, B) – how do we filter out the REALLY bad red flags, the ones we should listen to and/or run away from, before we are emotionally invested in someone? Since these traits don’t always pop up in the first week or two of dating, how do we shield ourselves, while still being open enough to get to know someone? This shit is damn near impossible, people. Or maybe I’m bad at humaning, whatever. But that’s really the ultimate question… how do I know someone’s red flag is a deal breaker, and how do I abort mission before my own feelings are involved?
I don’t have the answers to this, obviously, but one thing I have learned is that people will generally tell you who they are, sometimes it’s just up to us to listen. When a guy says “I don’t have a girlfriend because I’m an asshole,” there’s a really good chance that said guy is, in fact, an asshole. Girls are just notoriously bad for hearing what we want to hear, or making excuses to make a square peg fit in a round hole. Oh well. C’est la vie.
Until next time,
xoxo, Tempest.
tempest.
As I have mentioned before, I use a pseudonym to stay anonymous on this blog, and that name is Tempest. This of course, comes from Shakespeare’s play, The Tempest, which starts out with a pretty fucked up magical storm. I picked this name for a pseudonym because more often than not, I have a pretty stormy personality. It usually applies more to myself than to my situation..until recently. Because damn, if I’m not in a storm right now.
I have written quite a bit recently about my move from the dirty South up to the Northeast. It’s been a bit crazy, and I have definitely gone through a whirlwind of emotions. I’m sad to have left behind the place I’ve called home for the last several years. I almost feel guilty for leaving my friends, even though I know I did it for the right reasons.
I know I’ve said it before, but holy shit I’m terrified that I’m going to just fail and fall flat on my face up here. I don’t know if I will really meet people, people that will have my back. Knowing coworkers is one thing, and I have some great friends that I’ve made over the years that started as coworkers. But what if I don’t meet anyone that I can really connect with? What if I make the same mistakes with friends and relationships that I’ve made my whole life? What if I end up not only alone, but ridiculously unhappy?
One of my biggest fears is feeling like I will never really fit in anywhere. That I will always be the odd one out. I will never truly belong.
These are the thoughts going through my head during this uprooting. These kinds of thoughts, on top of the fact that I am still trying to get settled, spending a shit ton of money on furnishing a new place, and trying to find a groove in general. It’s a lot. Oh, this is all happening whilst I am still working my old job and my new one, by the way. I’m hoping there is a light at the end of the tunnel. Hopefully I will start to see it soon.
change.
I suspect I will be posting a lot more in the coming weeks, since I have so much change ahead of me and will need to go on a few rants here and there.
Tonight is my final night in Atlanta. Phew. It has absolutely not sunk in yet.
I have been reflecting today on how I want to use this upcoming fresh start to my advantage. I have this golden opportunity to start brand new, and to really be the person I want to be. The question is… who the fuck is that?
To tackle this question, I’ve come up with three main focus areas for my new life.
One of the problems I find myself running into is that I don’t really know how to let myself let go sometimes. I am lacking a chill zone. I like to plan, I like things to go accordingly, I like when things fall into place. But the thing about life is.. it doesn’t really like letting that happen. And then I end up stressed out, anxious, worried, pushing people away, getting myself into a funk and… for what? Step one in new life: Chill. The Fuck. Out.
Another recurring theme in my life is my problems with interpersonal relationships. I used to think this was just romantic relationships, but I have recently realized I have issues with pretty much all relationships. I am great at making friends and being very social, but I am not so good at connecting with people on a deeper level. This is partially because I keep a pretty solid wall up to protect myself, which does work but… while it keeps me safe, it also keeps people from being able to get to know the truly weird and wonderful me. Step two in new life: Be who I really am, and if people don’t like it they can suck it.
The third step is the hardest. I am deathly afraid of ending up alone or not being cared about. I say I am happy being single, and in a lot of ways I am, but in many ways I feel like I’m always looking for that next great love. However, I also know that before I conquer steps 1&2, I am not ready for it, and all I am doing is setting myself up for failure if I try to force it. I. am not. ready. I know that. I can’t let things flow, I am not open. As mentioned above, I know this, and am ready to take the steps to get there, but logically, I need to be alone. I need to be alone to experience my life and what I want out of it before I try to bring another person in at that level. Step three in new life: stand strong by myself, for myself.
My next post will be from another state!! Woooo!
xoxo, Tempest.
my therapist says im funny... 