Short But Healthy

14 05 2011

I am short. And my goal is to be healthy. I’m happier than I’ve ever been in my life, and a lot of that has to do with the fact with that the man I once considered a literal godsend is not in my life any more. I’m alone, in the sense that I’m a 24 year old divorcee. I graduated from a west Texas Baptist school and was groomed to believe that as a woman, with out a husband there is no such thing as success. And while my family is glad that I am no long with my abuser, they do look at me differently.

Mom now looks at me like I’m a teenager again.
Father looks at me with the worry that I’ve become bitter.
Sister…I’m not sure that I can say how my sister looks at me.
My sister’s husband actually doesn’t look at me differently.
Grandma didn’t look me in the eye for a while.
Dad’s mom, she looks at me like I need to stop chasing my education and start being an adult and find the good husband.
Dad’s dad, he’s just glad I’m not with the bastard anymore. And seems to line up men for my choosing.

I know my friends look at me differently, too, but not in the same way my family does. I’m not sure if I can put words to it, or at least the right ones, but I will say that with out them, I never would have made it through the whole ordeal. My family was really there for me, too. Well Mom, Dad, and my sister and her husband.

My dad constantly tries to “remind” me that I will find love again. That all men aren’t like how he was.
The funny thing to me is that’s why I knew I had to get out of there. Because while it was mostly just his words that hurt so much, and passive aggressive action, and the emotional manipulation, there was a part of me that knew one day it would be more.

Turns out our last days together proved me right.
At least it was the last days and not every night.

I don’t hate men. I haven’t “turned” the way my father thinks lesbianism happens. I really do enjoy men. But I’m not looking to fall in love again, either. Not that I don’t think its impossible for me to feel that way ever again, I just think its overrated. I don’t think obsessing over some one the way our society and rom-com philosophy has tried to force feed us is really love. The coveted feeling of be in loooooove is not something I’m interested in really. I see love differently now.

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