Dear Guy at the Bar…

Dear guy at the bar,

I see you looking at my friend, Audrey, and I as we sit at the bar two seats down from you.  You aren’t very sly about it, but I think checking someone out incognito is a learned skill so I’ll assume you are out of practice.  You should know that staring at a girl tends to make us turn away or creep us out.  I mean I can appreciate a guy looking my way, even a double take glance but the whole sit and stare even when we make eye contact is plain ol’ creepy.

But it’s ok, I’ll just keep looking forward and pretend I can’t see you out of the corner of my eye… staring at me… throwing back a shot… and then staring some more.  Yeah, that’s not creepy at all…

I’m often asked what guys can do differently to get girls attention or to impress a girl… I hate giving advice but your behavior screams “help me!”  So let me give you a few pointers…

I see you’re taking shots.  Shots are almost never a good idea, especially when you’ve been drinking a lot.  They tend to push you right over the line from “hey, I’m having a good time” to “why is the room spinning?!”  I also see you ordered food and that is the one and only good choice I’ve seen you make in my 15 minute observation thus far.  But you’re having a bit of trouble cutting up that huge steak… might I suggest that next time you choose something that is a little easier to eat when you have lost all motor control in your arms and hands.  It’s not particularly attractive to watch you stick about 6 ounces of steak in your mouth and then watch as juice and slobber run down your chin because you can’t handle the amount of food in your mouth.  The potato would have probably helped soak up some of that alcohol but again the loss of your fine motor skills is making it hard for you to position your fork to get potato on it.  But you’re not giving up… no, not you!  You picked up that darn potato, took a bite and threw the rest back onto your plate…. oops, it landed on the bar.  That’s ok, no one saw what happened, just me… and Audrey… and the table of gentlemen behind us…

I wish your friend would go ahead and make you put your head down, because you’re making the rest of us dizzy with all of your swaying.  I’m also extremely concerned that you may get whiplash or smack your head on the bar from momentarily falling asleep between bites.  Oh wait, now I’m concerned that you’re going to pass out completely.  I’m impressed that you’re still sitting in your chair and eating and sleeping all at the same time… oh no… oh wait… and you’re on the floor.  Oh gosh!  Maybe I should have yelled “timber” so someone could have caught you… sorry, my bad, I was more concerned with grabbing Audrey out of the way so she didn’t end up on the floor on top of you.

But hey, at least the manager was quick to react.  He got you back up in your chair before your friend even got to you.  Ummmm, but now you’re pointing at me.  And I just accidentally made eye contact… crap.  It’s not very nice to accuse me of laughing at you, as I just explained to you I was laughing at Audrey and the funny comment that she didn’t just make.  Oh, you don’t believe me, well poop.  To answer your question, no I don’t laugh at others expense… unless it’s just too funny to ignore and I would really like it if you would put away that finger you’re pointing at me with.

Oh and don’t mind those guys behind us saying that they are laughing at you.  They’re just trying to get your attention off of me and onto them, which is really rather nice, but I like to think I can hold my own.

I’m glad to see your friend has now taken the initiative to take you home.  I would hate for a fight to break out, especially since you are now yelling at the gentlemen behind me… meaning Audrey and I are in between the two of you.

So guy at the bar, as lovely as it was spending 30 minutes of my Friday evening with you, I hope we never cross paths again.  I’m a little scared that you may point and stare and spit potato at me as you ask if I’m the girl that laughed as you fell out of your chair… because I would have to be honest and say yes I am!

Sincerely,

Brooke

Taking Back Control

A while back I said that I would tell my tornado story.  I don’t want to tell my story though just to tell it, I’m writing about it now because it relates to what I’m going through right now in my life.

For the last year and a half, I have felt like my life was completely out of control.  And to make matters worse, I felt like I had no control over it at all.  I was just a bystander, watching as everything I knew fell apart right before my eyes.  This downward spiral started on May 22, 2011.

On May 22, 2011 I was attending my school’s graduation ceremony as I do every year.  As I was leaving, I noticed how weird the weather seemed and heard a tornado watch go over the radio.  I decided to hurry home since my house was in the area where they were expecting the tornado to be.  I got home and didn’t think much of the two tornado sirens that went off.  I live in an area of the country labeled “tornado alley.”  The sirens go off for high winds or tornadoes and during tornado season, they might go off every single day.  So needless to say hearing the sirens wasn’t all that alarming.

Then came the third siren.  When I heard the third siren, the power went out.  I remember sitting in the living room wondering what was going on.  Was this for real?  Should we wait it out like every other storm?  Should we take cover?  At this point, my ex and I were unsure of what to do.  I walked from room to room looking out the windows trying to see if I could see a tornado heading our way but the sky was so gray and eerie that I couldn’t see anything.  Then I noticed that the rain was coming down at a weird angle, not like a normal rainfall.  And then I heard it.  They say when a tornado is coming, it sounds like a train.  In that moment, I heard the sound of the train.  I hurried and put some pants on (I was still in a dress and if I was going to be taken out by a tornado then I was going to have some dignity) and told my ex-husband to get a flashlight and some blankets and to put them in the guest bathroom tub.  I then grabbed my two babies and took them to the bathroom with me.  Something in my head said we needed more protection, so I sent my ex to my son’s bedroom to get his toddler mattress.  My kids and I sat in the tub with the mattress propped up against it as my ex sat next to the tub.  I cannot explain to you the emotions and thoughts that happened next.

I remember looking forward from the tub and all of a sudden both of my ears popping.  At that moment I was screaming “Oh my God this is real” in my head.  I yelled for my ex to put the mattress over me and the kids and I laid my babies underneath me.  I was laying over them, holding them tightly as in one split second I heard all of the windows in our house shatter and the roof ripped off the house. I can remember the smell so well.  It smelt of fresh-cut wood.  All I could hear was the loud roar of the wind, I refused to look up because at that moment I realized my two babies were staring at my face and I realized they were looking at me to comfort them.

I told them “shhh Mommy’s got you” probably 100 times within the next few minutes.  It’s all I knew to do.  I repeated it over and over again while watching their faces.  Neither one of them (my daughter was 1-year-old and my son was 3) cried or yelled.  They just laid there still as could be watching me.

At one point I remember wondering if my ex was ok.  I yelled towards him asking if he was alright.  I didn’t get an answer.  I then yelled “Are you still there?!”  Still no answer.  I have no idea how long the tornado was over us.  All I know is it felt like minutes.  When the loudness stopped my ex opened the door to our guest bathroom and said “oh my God Brooke, it’s gone.”  I thought surely he’s exaggerating.

He came back in the bathroom, took the kids from me, and since I had shoes on, I decided to go out and see what he was talking about. I walked into what was supposed to be a hallway, looked up, and I could see what was left of my neighborhood.  I didn’t see walls.  I didn’t see any bedrooms.  I didn’t see houses.  I saw trees without limbs.  I saw floors where houses once stood.  I didn’t see a soul.  I started yelling, seeing if anyone was alive or if I could hear anyone calling out for help.  I didn’t hear anyone so I decided to start grabbing what clothing I could find to wrap my kids up in since it had started raining again.  I found a dirty clothes hamper in what was once my bedroom and reached to the bottom of it and grabbed the driest clothes I could find.  I gave the clothes to my ex so he could wrap my kids up and then I started walking around what was left of our house trying to decide what to do next.

The next few hours were a blur.  My parents and my brother got there and helped us get some items from the house to take to my parents.  My parents let us stay with them and I was ever so grateful!

That May day is when my life started to fall out of my control.  My life had been taken, flipped upside down, and laid back down for all the chaos to fall onto me.

After the tornado, my ex and I tried to make it work one more time.  We tried for a few months, but it just wasn’t working.  Six months after the tornado we were separated.  And then two months after that I officially started this new life as a single mom.  The emotions that come from having your life ripped out of your hands, everything you knew to be safe just ripped apart – are indescribable.  I was happy in a sense because I knew that after a year of a very negative relationship I was finally on the right road, but that came with a price.

I had to pay the price of families not knowing the truth of what happened, people being quick to judge without knowing all the facts… but I knew that I could shoulder those burdens so that my kids could see what a real relationship looked like one day.

The last year and a half has been a roller coaster.  Most days I feel like I’m on the ride, and that I’m not sure where I’m going to go next.  But in the last month I’ve decided that I’m going to take back control of this ride.  My absolute worst fear in life was dying one day and having to look at God and tell him that I wasted the precious life he gave me, that I wasted it not being happy.  So I’m taking back control and I am going to be happy.  If I want something in life, I’m going to get it.  Sure, shit happens as my favorite quote goes.  Things out of my control will happen, the tornado proved that.  But I can control my happiness.  I can make changes everyday that make me happy and that allow me to live my life the way it should be lived.

Are You There God? It’s Me, Brooke

The other night I experienced my first drive by date, as I called it.  I was asked to have coffee by a guy that seemed to be pretty nice, so I was up for it – despite the fact that I hate coffee.  It was a drive by date because we were literally meeting up just to meet, see if there was anything between us (aka any sort of spark), and then go on our separate ways.  I kind of liked the idea because there was no pressure, no worries about what to do if I met the guy, didn’t like him, and had to figure out how to get out of the rest of the date.  *Side note, yes I have actually met someone before where from the moment I got to the restaurant I wanted to leave.  I wanted to be out of that date so bad that I actually excused myself to the restroom, called Annie and told her to call me in 5 minutes with an emergency so I could leave.  No I am not proud of this but I am one of those individuals that cannot pretend to be having a good time when I’m not, I can’t pretend to want to get to know someone when I’m clearly not interested in them. 

So I was on the drive by date, and within a few minutes I knew I wasn’t interested.  We were clearly two totally different people, not anywhere near each others type.  But I was ok, because I knew in the back of my head it would be over within half an hour.  So I made small talk and pretended to drink the very expensive coffee he had bought me… I wasn’t kidding, I really hate coffee, so I totally did the tip the cup and let the coffee hit my lip so he would think I was actually drinking it.

The date ended and I decided as I got back in my car that it was time that God and I have a heart to heart.  I’m not an overly religious person, but from time to time when I really feel like I need some guidance, some assistance I like to have what I call the “what the hell?!” talk with God.  I was driving my car back to my house and I started to have an out loud conversation with Him.  I’m sure people could see me talking, looking like I was talking to myself, but I was having a moment of clarity and I had to go with it.

At that moment, I told Him “I’m handing it over to you.  I know my dating life, my love life isn’t the biggest problem in the world.  It’s quite miniscule compared to other issues, but I’m going to hand it over to you.  I know you have a plan for me, I know that whatever is meant to happen will happen and from this point forward I’m not going to try to control what happens.  You point me in a direction and I’ll go that way.  But don’t forget that you need to point me in the right direction!”  I felt good with our conversation, for the first time in a long time I wasn’t going to try anymore.  I was completely going to just let whatever needed to happen, happen and I wasn’t going to stress about it.

I’ve had many conversations like this with God, but this was the first time that afterwards I really felt like I was doing the right thing, asking for the right thing.  I was ok with the fact that I wasn’t dating anyone, I was really ok.

The Runaway Bride

You know the movie… Julia Roberts plays a girl who had been engaged multiple times, struggling to figure out who she truly is and in result becomes the runaway bride.  Well ladies and gentlemen, I am the real runaway bride… as much as I hate to say it, it’s true.  Difference is I wasn’t struggling to figure out who I was, I struggled with finding my voice.

Here’s the honest and quite frankly, embarrassing story of the real runaway bride… aka me.

Fiancé #1:

Fiancé #1 was my high school sweetheart as you would say.  We started dating our senior year in high school and quickly were connected at the hip.  He was an athlete and I truly was his biggest fan.  I fell hard and fast for him.  He was a wrestler and I went to every meet, my mom even drove me halfway across the state to his state competition.  What I especially loved about him was his family. They were a strong and close family.  He had several siblings and two parents that loved each other dearly.  I seriously mean they LOVED each other.  I never saw two adults interact the way they did… maybe some high school couples in the hallways at school… but these two never lost that “I want to touch you all the time” feeling or at least that’s the way it seemed.  His family was engulfed in love for each other and you couldn’t help but want to be a part of it.

During our freshman year in college we decided to get an apartment together.  My parents weren’t thrilled about the idea, but I on the other hand couldn’t wait to be with him whenever I wanted.  I was completely and totally in love with him.  We rented a small… very small… one bedroom apartment and quickly fell into our adult lives.

On Valentine’s Day when I was only 19 years old, he asked me to marry him.  It wasn’t what you see in the movies or read about in the books.  We had gone to dinner at a nice restaurant and for some reason I mentioned nonchalantly that I would kill him if he ever proposed to me in the middle of a restaurant with everyone staring at me.  I looked up after making the comment and the look on his face made me yell “SHIT!” in my head.  Needless to say nothing happened during dinner.  When we got back to the car, he kept fidgeting with his sock.  I asked what he was doing and he just said that his foot was itching… and then he sat up and was holding a little ring box in his hand.  (Yes he was hiding the ring box in his sock… not ideal… but looking back on the memory, it was kind of cute and sweet.)  He asked me to marry him with a simple “Will you marry me?” and I couldn’t be happier to say yes.

Another year passed and we continued living together until we just couldn’t do it anymore.  The problem was we were two young kids trying to be adults and we just weren’t ready for that commitment at such a young age.  And I don’t mean the commitment of being together, I’m talking about the commitment of being adults, the bills, going to school, trying to juggle it all… being engaged was the easy part.  The weight of being on our own crushed us and we quickly fell apart.  And instead of me telling him how stressed out I was, how much I needed to just lean on him, I instead ran away from him.

Fiancé #2:

Fiancé #2 was a guy that I dated in college.  We met our senior year and were both in the teacher education program.  Now I’m going to go ahead and say this now… this relationship and engagement should have never happened.  I mean no disrespect to him but to be very honest, it should have never happened.  At this point in my life, I hadn’t dated anyone in a while and had been on a few meaningless dates.

We were in a couple of classes together and after a few weeks of talking he asked me out.  He was nice and he got along with my friends so I figured why not.  We dated for a couple of months and I quickly realized we really had nothing in common other than we both wanted to be teachers.  He was from a farm, I was from the city, a small city, but a city nonetheless.  He was a picky eater, I would eat anything.  He had a temper, I was calm and patient.  He got loud and hot-headed, I got quiet and said nothing.

After we had been dating for about five months I told Annie, who I was living with at the time, that I didn’t feel that he was who I was supposed to be with.  But to be honest, I was scared to break up with him.  Like I said he was hot-headed, had a temper, and was loud… and this being my first experience in this type of situation, I just didn’t know how to handle it or how to speak up for myself.  It was like every ounce of my self-confidence and ability to stand my ground had exited the building.

One month later, he took me ice skating.  I thought it was a little odd when we got there because everyone was leaving the ice skating rink and we were walking in.  Then we walked into the actual rink and I realized what was going on.  I got this huge lump in my stomach and wanted to run in the opposite direction but I seemed to be frozen standing there.  Then I heard some music start playing and he stood in front of me and handed me a ring.

I can’t tell you a word that he said, if he said anything, if I said anything, or what happened from that point forward.  I remember thinking oh my god, is this what I want?  Can I do this?  Is this right?  Looking back, I knew the answer I was just scared to do it… I was scared to tell him no.

Four months later, with wedding plans in full force I was at home one night sitting in the tub and started to bawl uncontrollably.  I had finally reached my breaking point.  He had bullied, yelled, and argued the life out of me and I couldn’t do it anymore.  I called my mom and as all moms do, she knew what was wrong and what I needed to do.  At that point my parents took care of everything… venues were canceled, items returned, and I gave back the ring.  I love my parents so much for being the strength I needed at that point.  I was able to move on from that situation as strongly as I did because of them.

Fiancé #3:

Fiancé #3 and I almost didn’t happen.  He had asked me out once before and I said no… he had kind of scraggly (if that’s a word) hair, earrings, he shaved his arms and legs, and at times it felt like he was still trying to find himself and figure out who he was.  A few months went by, and one night Annie and I went to visit him while he was babysitting a friend’s daughter.  And that’s when I saw a side of him that I needed to see.

A few years ago, one of the hospitals in town would put on a fundraiser called Blast From the Past.  People would pay to attend a show and would come dressed up in their favorite 50s, 60s, 70s, or 80s attire.  I was always in the floor show… which meant we had choreographed dances that we performed each weekend for four weekends in a row.  I loved it!

We had been dating about 10 months when that years show was taking place.  I was surprised when his family, all of them, said they were coming to watch me in the show.  After the show was over I went to their table and thanked them for coming just to watch me dance and then went to visit with my friends that were there.  I was sitting at a table when I heard the host, a local news anchor, start asking for a young man to come to the stage and saw my boyfriend walking up there.  And once again I started to yell in my head “SHIT!”

And then I was called on stage.  I hate having attention on me and here I was with hundreds of individuals staring at me.  He read a long speech he had written and then got on one knee and asked me to marry him.  I said yes, without hesitation.  At this point, life seemed perfect.

Fiancé #3 became my ex-husband.  And out of respect for our relationship as co-parents, I will stop his story there.

So see, I am the runaway bride.  When people ask me why I was engaged so many times, I tell them because I wanted to be sure.  I wanted my first marriage to be my only marriage.  I wanted to have what my parents had, a life long marriage full of love and respect.  And on round 3 I thought that’s what I was getting… but I was wrong.

And now I am learning that you can never be sure about anything in life.  You have to use your voice to get what you want, to speak up for yourself, and to demand what you need.  I will no longer be a spectator of my life… from now on, this girl has her voice set to megaphone.  I’m not settling.  I’m not giving up on the type of relationship I want.  I will be happy.