I’m not sure if anyone has ever been jealous in a relationship with me for romantic reasons. I suppose it’s possible… But it’s not something I’ve almost ever had to deal with in a way I’ve been aware of.

In high school there were two guys who had a crush on me and they fought over me for months. But…I never dated either one of them. Never even one date. I’m still friends with one of them but he’s since told me things that suggest he thinks of me as a sister.

Their jealous bickering back then was not something I would have even know about at all if not for my platonic friendship in high school with the other guy. Apparently he thought I should finally be clued in. Ha! How two guys can fight over someone neither of them has ever openly or really even vaguely expressed feelings for confuses me slightly but perhaps it confused them as well. I was told that one of them even shared “his side of things” with a flight attendant once to ask for her objective opinion. Ha!

Other than on that occasion…maybe one other guy was also jealous while I was first dating Mark. Mark encouraged me to date other guys at first due to his rather unique sense of romantic ethics at that time. Anyway, the young man I dated was a jerk about it and ghosted me whether he was jealous or not, but I’ve often suspected he was. Either way, I never had a genuine chance to say or do anything to defend myself… I hope I didn’t mean that much to him and I probably didn’t.

But truly, other than those dysfunctional instances albeit at least somewhat innocent and endearing in the first case, I’ve never had anyone act jealous (romantically) in a way I could honestly read as jealousy. But I’m not sure if I’ve ever made anyone jealous much so maybe any vague jealousy men have had has been easier to conceal if it ever did exist.

I’ve had plenty of the other forms of envy and jealousy thrown at me, but not much jealousy in the form I would ever be able to enjoy. Would I enjoy it though? Maybe not. I’ve certainly felt it myself in romantic relationships. I don’t get jealous otherwise really ever but I have felt jealousy romantically. In every romantic relationship actually… I’ve tried to be good about it though…

Mark just has never been jealous for me though. He never has yet anyway. We’re separated of course, but he would much rather never hear about anyone I even find attractive. So if he ever does hear anything it’s to ask for advice and his advice is always friendly. And no, I’m not lying. He cares about me but it has always felt like…close friendship more than anything else unfortunately or not. Love yes perhaps but… *shrug* not in a way that some people experience.

Maybe someday when I’m dead 50 years from now and I date some dead fascinating man I’ll experience his jealousy. Ha. *smile* Or not. Heaven is not supposed to be like that I suppose and I’d imagine the folks in Purgatory if it exists are trying for perfect Godly love of all sorts… Perfect love casts out fear and that sort of thing…

But I truly don’t want to make anyone jealous for any reason really anyway. I mean…it’d be nice to not feel totally taken for granted in romantic relationships as can sometimes happen when you’re not a cheater, a natural flirt or an intentional-jealousy-provoker but… *shrug*

But… I have no idea when I’ll be dating again anyway. When you make a top priority of your young family, your own (real) self-respect and your sanity over idiotic nights out with some man who’s more likely to only make you want to cry (eventually at least) than anything else it might take a while. And I refuse to do Tinder or whatever it is people do now. Whatever. …And no if anyone reading this must know it’s not that I have a hatred for sex or lack of sexual health… *rolling eyes* although unlike some people I don’t like bad sex over no sex. Bad sex is so much more boring and depressing than people will often ever admit to. And no that doesn’t mean I use prostitutes. I don’t participate at all in that realm (although I’d be careful about judging people who do). I add that because I can just about imagine some jerk reading this thinking they’re clever and making that joke in their head… But really, bad sex is similar to bad chocolate… Totally overrated. Fake and unsatisfying but still just as guilt inducing if had wrongly. And again, no, I’m not a prude. I just have good taste if I listen to myself. (*rolling eyes yet again* No, I’m too tired of being bullied by fools over the years to pretend I don’t at least know I have good taste. And no…I’m sorry. They’re fools.)


My next post will be about skin care or perfume or something most people at least secretly mostly think is harmless and shallow. *smile*

My Mother

There are times I’ve questioned if I was given to my mother at birth out of some tragic happening. She knows this and cares about my right to know who I am biologically. And for the true moron who seemingly reads this blog and accused me of being mean to my mother for wondering: like…it’s totally kind of a big deal to know who your birth parents are.

However, when she gave birth to her baby (this was in the early 1980’s) they had a very low chance of survival as they had breathed-in a substance that’s part of the birthing process. They were whisked away before she had a chance to see them as the doctors then tried desperately to save the baby’s life. (The mid-wife said it was a girl by the way but out of respect for that individual who by some slim chance might not be me I’ll use the pronoun they.)

Anyway…my mother was a very independent woman and refused to marry until her late 30’s. That was just what she wanted for her life and so that’s what she did.

When I was brought in to my mother later I looked very alert, very healthy and quite cheerful… I was “big for my age” as in I was literally off the charts until I was a year or two old. I mean a doctor almost put me on a diet because he was so concerned due to my weight except he said, “She makes up for it in height so I’m not too worried.” Haha! To clarify: I was not chubby but rather I was “too big” for my supposed age.

By the way, just to also clarify for a second for the hate-readers of this blog who have been here for years for ugly reasons: I would have still been advanced but not to a ridiculous degree of I’m not my mother’s biological daughter. I would have started reading and talking very early ie at around age 3 for reading instead of at around 2 1/2 but my walking would have been right on target as in 11 or 12 months walking instead of almost running at 9 or 10. Not…bizarrely soon just a bit ahead. (No, I’m really not bragging.) So basically, only a month or a few weeks before my official time of birth at most? Two months? But two seems unlikely… I mean the midwife/doctor(s) would have passed me off as an exceptionally healthy newborn so it couldn’t have been that far removed from my official birth date. And again, regardless, it wouldn’t affect my IQ and make me secretly dumb somehow for the “haters” reading this… *sad laugh* No, more like just a different person genetically than who I was raised as to some degree (think family diseases). I mean let’s say I was born all the way back in September (which is almost impossible I’d bet) yeah it wouldn’t change my IQ based on the way the IQ test is calculated. Sorry… Actually it could explain some bullying though and why I was so bored… I was “too adult-like” according to some kids… (I would likely have started a year earlier even if it was just a month or two before my official birthday in November.)

But! But…was my survival a miracle instead? Perhaps! That is what the mid-wife told my mother…

I was so healthy though. Oddly so considering. “Wow! She’s really alert for a newborn!” one doctor commented. I was just that fortunate after almost dying? Ha! Yeah…I don’t know. Truly. I mean if I had to bet I’d bet that I was just a rare case of thriving after near death but…

And if my father or the father who raised me knows something he’s not a person who would ever tell me openly. Ever. There are things that man keeps so very quiet that only God probably knows other than him. I’ve done tests and research but it’s not anything that’s legally binding or entirely conclusive as that would be too alienating and hurtful to my mother and it just isn’t something I can talk about with my father. Hopefully someday I’ll know for complete certain.

That being said, my mother is my mother regardless. We don’t look that much alike or share that much in common other than some shared core values that she instilled in me, which is both good and bad. However, she is my mother. That’s for certain. It’s a complicated relationship but oh well… *shrug* We bonded quickly whether I was her child by birth or not.

Anyway, I’ve written some unpleasant things about my mother and I just wanted to clarify that she’s not a simple, two-dimensional person. She’s not pure evil. She has done things that are evil but she’s done things over the years that were helpful and nurturing as well.

There’s not a lot else to say I suppose, but hopefully that’s enough. My mother’s absolute best contribution? She encouraged me to be authentic. I have an authentic faith. A true sense of inner-self. And I feel free because of her genuine free-spirit to figure out the rest honestly. She might not always validate or encourage my honesty, so to speak, but she created a foundation that ironically can’t be destroyed for the best either way. That’s a lot considering…

Just to be clear.