Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Life, Love and Lard (Part 2): The First Year

The First Year:

When you are between the ages of about 21-ohhh well it never really ends, especially when you are a female, it seems like everyone around you is searching for their “soul mate” or a reasonable facsimile, to grow old with. So, within about 5 minutes (or 2.5 weeksish in real time) of hanging out with my friends, most of which were couples, I lost my “Screw dating, I’m going to just have fun attitude,” and replaced it with, “…BUT I WANT ONE TOO!” So here I was, newly 21, extremely confident, with my life ahead of me, and a pretty decent body for someone who had just given birth, back out on the prowl. By prowl, I mean, who is marriage material prowl. Not who is a good one night stand prowl. I was looking at every male that passed like they could be my future husband and baby daddy. Well, the response was definitely more than I planned.

I found a lot of guys, but one was pretty awesome. We had a great time together. I will always remember our “firsts.” The first time he walked me home and I found a giant pink bouncy ball to play with (which I believe he still has,) our first kiss (which was in the rain in an alley,) and a whole lot of other firsts, including how he was first supposed to be a one night stand.

You may be asking, if you were out searching for a husband and you found this awesome guy, why would you want a one night stand? Well, I didn’t really “want” a one night stand, but knowing my track record I figured it was pretty much a given. Well, I was wrong and he called and we were pretty much inseparable for the next year. We literally spent one night apart in our first, alcohol induced haze, year.
For the first year, we were partying usually a good 4-5 nights a week. By partying I don’t mean a few drinks with friends, I mean hard core drinking until the wee morning hours, getting up and doing it all again. It leaves a lot of time for great conversation doesn’t it?

I’ll keep this short, and leave out a lot of gory details, but since I had been used to being treated poorly by guys, I found his treatment of me to be amazing. Which, I mean, wasn’t completely untrue by any means, but we definitely had issues I was willing to ignore because I was in love and so was he. What I didn’t realize until late last year, is that the person that he was in love with wasn’t me, it was the role I was playing to make him love me.

I think intrinsically we all have the capability to have a number of ways of relating to people and situations as a coping mechanism. We really have such varied personalities that we can be just about anyone, but what was different in this situation is that I was afraid that he wouldn’t want the real me. I was playing a role for this part, and I think in a way, I was acting for myself just as much as him. Convincing myself I was ok being a small town girl, just getting through school, living on a farm, staying at home a lot, yada yada yada. Yeah right. Anyone who knows me now (or the “real” me knows that’s completely untrue.) Another thing I never realized was that hiding the real me mentally and emotionally was causing me to hide the real me physically.

During this first year, I stopped playing sports and exercising (which were a huge part of my life,) I started cooking all the time (since my mom taught me that the way to a guys heart is through his stomach) and I started a new form of birth control (which any woman reading this knows this is the death of their figure) and throughout this year, I gained 35ish lbs.

So by the end of year one, I was living in denial. Denial of the real me, denial that I had gained weight and was getting pudgy, denial that I had no real clue what my future held. All I knew is that I had a man who loved me, and that’s all that mattered.
Or so I thought…. (Part 3 tomorrow)


  1. Can't wait 'till tomorrow's installment!

  2. Ahem...I know you've been busy moving, but get on with it girl!