Tonight I think I’ll move into adoptee mode and talk about something I dread, dating. Effing hate it. Hate everything that comes with it. Hate wasting time talking to losers in the hope that one might not be a complete neanderthal Hate wasting money spending time with people I wouldn’t sit next to on the train. Hate getting all pretty then enduring hours of narcissistic and one sided conversation. Hate thinking he’s perfect then finding out he’s a dud. Hate thinking he’s perfect then finding out he thinks I’m a dud. Hate it all. But ya know what I hate more? Being lonely.
I’ve spent 91.6667% of the past nine years single. Yes, I actually did the math. The other 8.3333% of the time divided between three duds. One who refused to let me speak to his coworkers at a Christmas Party, endgame buddy, I’m not that offensive or boring, but you wouldn’t know that because you didn’t let me talk when just you were around either. One who drank so much he “had” to go drink with his dad right after his bastard spawn exploded my ovary and fallopian tube. And one who wasn’t so much a complete dud, but was certainly a dud for me. That’s nine months of meh and 99 months of less meh. My cycle seems to be a few years alone then a few months with a dud, rinse and repeat. I’ve gone through post partum depression, a PTSD diagnosis, an ectopic pregnancy, anorexia and subsequent semi-recovery, school, a new career, a birth, my son turning 18, my grandmother’s death and severing two long term (but highly unhealthy) friendships alone, except for the ectopic, he was there but was busy getting shitfaced with his dad because the stress was too much for him… cuz ya know, he was the one who almost died and all. What I learned is that I am damn strong. Much stronger than I ever gave myself credit for. In between all of that garbage I also found time to get some emotional stability and partial healing from some HUGE life events, namely the loss of my parents at birth and the loss of my son at 3. I will never be 100%, I know that, but every day I make strides in the right direction and now I feel up to the challenge of inviting another adult into my chaos with the hopeful outcome of our seperate chaotic situations matching up to become one slightly less chaotic situation with more love, support, and caring that either had previously. Enter the hated dating. ugh.
I should probably point out that I’m extremely shallow and only date men well above what I probably should. I’ve heard the line “OMG he’s SO hot! How did you score him?” enough times to understand that I should probably be setting my sights a smidge lower, maybe more Mr. Bean than Mr. Pitt, but I’m shallow so I will always hold out for the Brad’s of the world. Luckily enough my thirties have brought a self confidence that I didn’t expect so what I’m lacking in looks I can make up for with personality and a sense of hot man entitlement that seems to interest enough of the hotties to at least half fill my dance card. So now I have a shallow little pool of shallowness to choose from but without fail I repeat those habits of old. The guy I like has friend zoned me more than once. The guy I want to get to know won’t commit to meeting. The guy I think is marriage material just wants to come over and watch movies while we drink beer and the guy I thought might work turned me into a psycho ball of sobbing insecurities. Yeah, this is going well.
Now you are likely wondering what on earth any of this is doing on an adoption blog, well let me tell you what it has to do with it. FREAKING EVERYTHING! I’ve experienced nothing but loss since the very day of my birth. I’ve lost so damn much I just expect it now. I mean c’mon, when your own mother gives you away your self worth is bound to suffer at some point and, well, I just haven’t been able to get to the point where I don’t see myself as throw away material. I still linger in this cloudy world where I will always be the girl you don’t take home to mom, cuz her own mom couldn’t even stand her. Misguided? Yes. Insane? Yup. But it’s there and it would seem that no amount of self help books is likely to ever get me past that little bastard voice inside that shouts at me… “You aren’t good enough!” So if it’s going well I will sabotage it like an Inspector Gadget exploding mission message and if it’s going badly I will cling to it like my life depends on this particular douchenozzle being with me until we are old and shriveled on the porch swing. No matter how my brain says I should act, I will act the exact opposite. I will self destruct the entire thing in less time than most people spend on deciding what bad tv show to watch while they fall asleep.
Now you are probably thinking this is a one off, unless you are a bastard and then you are probably either reliving your youth or sobbing about your own perpetually single status. I’ve talked to enough other adoptees to know that this is not a cycle reserved only for my own hell, it’s pretty freaking common, more so than anyone would like to think or admit. It’s also pretty common with other nmoms, I mean how do you give away your own kid then think you deserve any kind of happiness? And nobody gets it, unless they are also living in adoptoland, and then you need to just RUN!
In reality the only person who stands a chance of understanding why I act and react how I do is another adoptee, so why not seek one out for that reason alone? The answer is that we are all just a wee bit batshit and when you put two wee bits of batshit together you are likely to end up with an entire batcave of batshit ripe to the point of bursting into little nuclear batshit missiles hell bent on destroying your fictitious sense of “aww this is nice”. Which SUCKS because I seem to attract other bastards like flies to that same batshit. And I freaking like some of those bastards. In fact it’s safe to say that some of those bastards occupy more of my thoughts than even Star Trek, and that makes me sad cuz, just no. I’d rather have a bastard friend for life than ruin it with my bastardly bastard thoughts.
So for future self reference I am going to list what I NEED in a partner and every time someone new pops up I will contain my quivering boy crazy self until I can safely check off every single item on this list…
1) NOT ADOPTED
2) Must accept that Star Trek will always be my main love and that NOBODY will ever top Picard, ever.
4) Not clingy but willing to accept crazy amounts of cycling between me being completely distant and more clingy than a cat to your feet when you break out the can opener.
5) Able to say things like “I get that right now you are freaking out and trying to leave because you have more abandonment issues than anyone else on the planet but I’m not going anywhere and I’ll text you tomorrow after I send a cute e-card and virtual flowers to apologize for doing absolutely nothing wrong”
6) Willing to spend disturbing amounts of time talking me out of my self hatred.
7) Not willing to let me wallow in self hatred and knowing the difference between me needing some ego boosting and needing someone to yell in my face about how stupid I am.
8) Someone who will be honest and not lead me on, I handle rejection just fine, I’m used to it. But I need honesty like I need air.
9) Most of all an ability to understand that when I say “Sorry I’m being so adopted” they won’t take offense and are willing to learn about how my adoption experiences have shaped my entire world.
10) Oh and the desire to stick it out. I know that if I can get past the initial wonky crazy bit where I want to run like a scared rabbit I am one hell of a kick ass woman to be with, but they just gotta get past those first rough bits where I test and test and push and push to see how easily he will leave…. Just because, I’m adopted.