What Do You Bring to the Table?

 

I just realized that I haven't written in awhile.  I guess life has been pretty good lately.

Well, until....

So a guy "slides into my DMs" (like all the cool kids say.  For us older people... This guy messages me on Facebook... not Facebook Dating but actual Facebook.  He asks if we can get to know each other.  To which I respond with a "sure".  He asks questions and I respond.  When I don't respond I get accused of not being interested.  I really am not interested.  I am not aware that Facebook is a dating site.

So this goes back and forth and he puts the pressure on to meet.  I don't really want to meet.  I have the "no new people" mentality as of late and he qualifies as a new person.

I am in my 50's.  I make my own money. I pay my own bills.  I don't need a man.  I am at peace with my life at the moment.  If I invite you in, you better bring something to the table that isn't already on the menu.

He's unemployed.  He seems desperate to be with someone.  He's throwing red flags like they are confetti.

But he wore me down and I agree to meet.

So we meet for drinks and I think we have a good conversation.  I am still cautious.  He touches my hair. (Red Flag).  He touches my back. (Red Flag).

I don't like strangers touching me.

I ignore the flags.  I'm not planning a wedding, it is just drinks after all.

So as we are talking, I am looking to see what he is bringing to my table.  We have a few common interests but nothing to ask him to pull up a chair.  As we leave the bar, he asks if he can kiss me and I oblige.

The next day, I message him and tell him that I passed along his hello to my best friend's husband (they went to high school together).  He says he was wondering if I would message him.  I said I was busy with my side job and finally had a moment. (deck drinking)

He then proceeds to ask for a full length photo.

Are you fucking kidding me?

First of all, not only will you not be sitting at my table, I will ask you to leave the restaurant.

I said that I was not going to do that.

He then goes on to say that he didn't think I was the shy type and asked again for a front and back photo.

Seriously....

What the fuck?

"Why would I subject myself to judgment by a man that I already met me?  Either you like me or you don't.  At this age I don't need to show my body.  If you are looking for a super model, maybe you should try to talk to someone else."

That was my response.

Men my age are seriously single for a reason.

When I am comfortable with my single-ness, I really am picky about the menu.  If you don't have anything to offer, go sit at someone else's table.

What Do I Want to be When I Grow Up?

 I was digging in a box and came across one of my scrapbooks that my mom made with things from when I was a little kid.  There were things like valentine cards from kindergarten, birthday cards, report cards and a few of my early drawings.

One drawing must have been an assignment from kindergarten.  The caption on the drawing is "I want to be a farm girl".

Most likely is was a prompt "What do you want to be when you grow up?"

Thinking about it now, kids are asked...what do you want to be?

Firemen, police officer, teacher, scientist, mail carrier.....

Not one of us ever thought...

I want to be happy.

We were pushed into career choices at such a young age.  We gear our education towards a career.  We aim for a career.

We never aim to be happy.

For most of my life, I have battled severe depression.  I have attempted careers.  None have resulted in happiness.  Some have resulted in the feeling of failure.

Why aren't we encouraging our children to be happy?

I remember my mother's reaction about wanting to be a farm girl.  She said that I really didn't want to be one.  I should be someone who makes money and support myself.  Happiness was never a thought.  If she would have just said, just as long as you are happy, that is what is important.

Looking back on some of my "life choices", I realize that they really weren't my own choices.

I really wanted to go to school to mold my creativity into something that would give me joy..... happiness.

If you are happy, are you really poor?

Now I am spending a majority of my time creating.  I work long hours and give up plans in order to finish an idea.  I lost my job but so far, I am able to support myself.

I may not be entirely happy, but it is a start.