Today marks the 2nd anniversary of Boston Single Girl, so I thought I’d take a few minutes to wish myself a happy anniversary!
WOW! I can’t believe I embarked on this writing journey two years ago! It’s been a fabulous two years, with many (mis)adventures along the way, all of which you have been able to share with me.
I’m often asked, “What made you start blogging”, so I figured I’d answer that today.
As I’ve mentioned before, I used to be someone’s wife. Yes, I know, it’s hard to believe that me, Boston Single Girl, commitment phobic serial dater was once not only in a monogamous long-term relationship, but married! It’s true though, I was.
I met Mr. Ex when I was 17. We worked together and, after two months of flirting, I asked him out for a 4th of July cruise in Boston and gave him my number. (Even back then I was aggressive and dominant!) A couple days later, he called and asked me to dinner and movie. We were attracted to each other, but I wasn’t really looking for anything serious. I was single, 17 and living on my own; I didn’t need or want the pressure of a serious relationship!
Well, like the saying goes, when you least expect it… BAM! WHAM! ZOWIE! I found myself in a serious relationship… so serious that a couple months after my 18th birthday, I ended up pregnant! Now, I do not regret having my son, but kids… double and triple up on the protection because NOTHING is 100% effective! I was on the pill and we (almost) always used condoms, but it happened. (OK, public service announcement over)
His family insisted we get married because I was pregnant, my mother kept telling me to wait because it was too soon. I was 18! Granted, I had put myself in this situation, but married?? I decided to wait until after the baby was born to make a decision, much to the very vocal dismay of Mr. Ex’s Italian-Catholic family.
We lived together, raising our son, for about 3 months before we came to the point that we couldn’t stand each other. We fought about everything, he never helped with the baby and refused to be involved. I took a step back, examined the situation and told him we were over. He moved out and I was a single, working mom at 18.
Six months later, after very little contact with each other, we decided that reconciling would be in the best interest of our son. We slowly started with weekend visits and then within a few months, we were living together again and engaged. I know what you must be thinking at this point because, looking back, I would shake my head at the 18 year old me too. I’d scream at my 18 year old self “What the fuck is wrong with you?!” But instead, I now chalk it up to young and stupid.
During our engagement, 8 months before our wedding day, my mother suddenly and unexpectedly passed away. The loss of my mother, who had raised my sister and I by herself, was profound and made me reflect on my childhood. The child of a broken home, I pushed my doubts about marriage aside and clung to the idea of raising my child with two, married parents living in the same house. I had wanted the whole fairy tale image my entire childhood: two parents, happily married, living in the house with the big yard and the white picket fence, a dog and lots of kids. With my mother gone, I clung to this pipe dream like people clung to lifeboats when the Titanic went down!
My marriage had it’s ups and downs over the years, but the final 4 or 5 years were brutal. I was growing up and the fact that we were growing apart became more and more obvious. His cheating, alcoholism and emotional abuse didn’t help matters. The turmoil that was our life finally came to a screeching halt one Columbus Day weekend when I told him I couldn’t do this anymore, couldn’t be in this unhealthy relationship anymore, couldn’t live walking in eggshells anymore. I had enough. I wanted a divorce.
He wanted to move out on my birthday, but he waited until 2 days later.
He served me with divorce papers on Valentine’s Day, despite the fact that we had already started our joint petition. Happy Valentine’s Day.
The 12 months that followed were a nightmare. While I had escaped the living hell I had been in for over 10 years, I still had to deal with him on a regular basis because of our custody arrangement. He began stalking me, breaking into my house, constantly arguing with me and threatening my life.
I didn’t let him stop me from having a life… and a very active one! I started dating again, started hanging out with friends (something I wasn’t allowed to do while I was married) and basically just started owning my life, and enjoying it!
I decided that the best way to ease back in to the dating scene was to try online dating. The more dates I went on, and men I met, the more funny stories I accumulated. As I would tell these stories to my girlfriends, they all kept telling me that I should write them down, send them to Cosmo or another publication, or write my own book. “But who would want to read about my dating life?”
Apparently a lot of people. (Thanks by the way)
I started this blog as an online diary really, a way to work through my own “stuff” I guess. The fact that people read and follow me here and on Twitter is just an added bonus. I started it to document my personal journey from divorced single mom with no clue to strong single woman boldly navigating the Boston dating scene. My stories are real and I have always felt that real stories, I mean truly nitty gritty and real dating stories, are not often published anywhere. I tell the truth, the honest and brutal truth, about my dating trials and tribulations.
So, Happy Anniversary to me, to Boston Single Girl, and to you my sexy readers. Thank you for following me along this journey and I hope you continue to stick around for the rest of my story.