Living Happily Ever After
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Hot Date

Date: August 27, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“I don’t understand why Cupid was chosen to represent Valentine’s Day. When I think about romance, the last thing on my mind is a short, chubby toddler coming at me with a weapon.” (Author Unknown)

Valentine’s Day weekend. I was back at work, but still on antibiotics and cough medicine. Before I left work that Friday before the holiday, a co-worker asked, “So, do you have a hot date for this weekend?”

I said, “No.”

My co-worker looked shocked. “What do you mean you don’t have a date?”

I replied, “I didn’t say I didn’t have a date. I have a date with Bachelor #5.”

He raised his eyebrows at me and in his best Psychology degree voice said, “What is up with that, by the way? You’ve been dating him a long time.”

I told him nothing was up. Bachelor #5 was just a nice, older man who didn’t “like” me, but dated me; so it wasn’t a “hot” date.

My co-worker (a man) disagreed. “Andrea, he’s a man and men don’t do that! They don’t date women they don’t like and they don’t date women they don’t like for months! Everything this man does for you demonstrates he likes you, actually more than likes you, in my opinion.”

I challenged him on that. I presented my case very well. I listed all of the reasons and ways I knew Bachelor #5 wasn’t interested in me. I drove home, older and wiser than my co-worker. I knew better than he did how the men I dated thought and felt. I pulled up to my house and stopped. In surprise.

Sitting on my porch was a beautiful flower arrangement. (And a box of chocolates.) For me. From Bachelor #5.

Just when I thought I had it all figured out.

Isn’t life like that? Especially the unexpected one.

“Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards.” (Soren Kierkegaard)

Sick

Date: August 26, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“Sickness comes on horseback, but goes away on foot” (Proverb)

Shortly after the date in which I took a new look at Bachelor #5, I got sick. Bronchitis and a sinus infection.

I took my first sick day from work. My co-workers said they knew I was sick and must REALLY have been sick because I told them I was sick, too sick to even work from home! The “bachelor pool” I was dating at the time all knew I was sick. I didn’t hear from any of them. Except Bachelor #5.

Bachelor #5 texted me (right on his usual schedule) to check on me, asked me how I was doing, and I texted back that I was sick. He offered to come and pick up my youngest kids and tend them so I could rest (he hadn’t even met them yet) or do anything else I needed. (I thought that was EXTREMELY nice and thoughtful, by the way.) He also asked me out for Valentine’s Day weekend when he hoped I’d be feeling better.

I returned to work and provided the usual update of my life to my co-workers. (Poor guys! It was like, “As Andrea’s World Turns” for far too long!) I reported Bachelor #5′s thoughtfulness in the midst of my sickness. One said, “Andrea, you need to take another look at this guy! He is incredible.”

Another said, “Andrea, he likes you!”

But I knew better. Bachelor #5 and I had different ideas about some things. He had older children and was at a different stage of life than I was. He was too old for me. And I knew he wasn’t interested in me romantically. I laughed at my co-worker’s suggestions.

“A good laugh and a long sleep are the best cures in the doctor’s book.” (Irish Proverb)

Then It Was Gone

Date: August 25, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“Women have a wonderful instinct about things. They can discover everything except the obvious.” (Oscar Wilde)

I heard from Bachelor #5 again.

He emailed me, thanked me for going to dinner, told me I was a trooper for living through what I’d gone through and remaining positive and seeking to create a happy life… and then he continued with his busy life, the holidays, and travel.

He was organized, planned his life and was sort of on a “schedule.” He kept in touch via email about once a week. He texted me about once a week. He asked me out once a week, depending on his travel and schedule, and as busy as we both were, I’m amazed I was usually available the nights he asked me out. He took me to dinners, a dance class, musicals, plays–always fun and unique things, especially compared to most of the men I dated.

I met his friends and some of his children. He always had a story to tell about something, and was always very nice. He was also my divorce expert: he had been divorced three years longer than me and had lived through everything I was facing. He was very thoughtful to check in with me after my “firsts” (first Christmas, etc…) to see how things went.

But that’s as far as my analysis of Bachelor #5 went. I had pre-determined he was too old for me; I certainly didn’t think he “liked” me! He was just a nice, older bearded man that I assumed felt bad for me, a newly single mom.

Then one night he picked me up for a date. I looked over at him as he was backing out of the driveway talking to me and I was struck by how different he looked. I felt like I was looking at a stranger! I couldn’t figure out what was causing my confusion. I thought I knew him, but all of a sudden I felt like I didn’t.

And then it hit me. He had shaved, the beard was gone.

I was stunned by how young he looked and how nice looking I thought he was. It was like I had never seen him before. (And I probably hadn’t. With the gray beard, I had never really looked–had never let myself look.)

“And when I heard this thing, I rent my garment and my mantle, and plucked off the hair of my head and of my beard, and sat down astonied.” (The Bible)

Dinner With Santa

Date: August 24, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“He’d grown a beard since I last saw him. I asked, ‘what’s with that?’ He said it was the caveman look.” (Jane Marshall)

My only advance request for our date was that he not act like he was meeting me for the first time. (I didn’t want to look like a loser single woman so desperate for a date that she had to meet men she didn’t know at restaurants!)

He did a pretty good job honoring that request, but he was so polite he probably did say, a little too loudly, how nice it was to meet me. But thank goodness he recognized me when I walked through the door because his gray beard made him look completely different than his online profile picture! I don’t know if I’d have known it was him (except for the warning about the gray beard.)

He was tan, taller than me, had hair (dark but graying at the sides), was nice looking with white teeth, a nice smile, and very warm brown eyes. Not a bad start to a date with Santa! However, unlike that jolly old elf, Bachelor #5 did not have a big belly. He was fit and trim.

We talked all through dinner and when he asked my divorce story, I told him everything. The whole thing. (Remember, this was before I changed that approach.) He was very kind about it and seemed to take it all in stride. He was a VERY nice man, just totally out of my league age-wise. Translation: too old!

After we finished dinner, he was friendly and talkative as he walked me to my car. I made a mental note that I’d just completed my first date with a grandpa AND a man sporting a gray beard, and that although he was too old for me, he was nice.

I had no idea if I’d ever hear from him again, I had no idea what his thoughts were or what his plan was; life is unexpected that way. After all, as the great philosopher Mike Tyson once said, “Everyone has a plan ’til they get kicked in the mouth.” Divorced people have been through their fair share of kicks, regardless of their story, I’ve learned.

Another unexpected lesson of the unexpected life that has become mine.

An Invitation

Date: August 23, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“Find me a man who’s interesting enough to have dinner with and I’ll be happy.” (Lauren Bacall)

He was a very busy man. His invitation mentioned something about an evening had opened up, the only evening for the next month that he wasn’t busy, and amazingly enough, I was free the night he asked about. I accepted his dinner invitation.

When I asked if he would pick me up or if I should meet him somewhere he told me he thought it best we meet at the restaurant. “I wouldn’t ask you to do that all of the time, I just believe it’s best to meet at the restaurant the first date,” he said.

Then he dropped the bombshell. (AFTER I’d already accepted his invitation! Lol. Think of the worries and concerns I’ve mentioned—I won’t call them issues—traceable to aging, wrinkles, and being old; now think about my opinion of facial hair.) Bachelor #5 warned me about his appearance. Due to a theater role he was playing at the time, he said he had a beard; a gray beard, “like an old grandpa.” Then he corrected himself, “Actually, I am a grandpa. But not that kind of one!”

Forty-two years old with a four-year-old, and I had agreed to a date with a grandpa–with facial hair. And it was gray!

The holidays were approaching, I joked that it was his lucky day because I loved Santa Claus! (Did I REALLY say that? I did, and it’s true.) I just never imagined dating him.

The date was on.

“All great change in America begins at the dinner table.” (Ronald Reagan)

The Spaghetti Factory, to be exact.

Bachelor #5

Date: August 22, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

I met him online.

He contacted me, told me a little about himself in his email, asked me questions about myself and I replied with the answers. This went on for several weeks, VERY different from my other online experiences. Some men contacted me for the first time and asked me out for that very night. Not Bachelor #5.

He was a nice man. A good person. My same faith. A father of four. A college graduate. A responsible citizen. Employed. A home owner. Smart. Talented. Musical. Had been married 20 years. A man with interests and hobbies. Accomplished. A man with a life. (He was busy!) He even had ties to Hawaii.

After many emails, I made a joke about us meeting in person. But he didn’t joke back. He told me he found it best to get to know each other really well before meeting.

I couldn’t believe how much we had in common. He’d share something about himself and most times, I would have had a similar experience. Poor man. He probably wondered if I was competing with his accomplishments! But when he told me he’d been on the BYU Folk Dance Team, I had to shake my head and laugh. I’d even done that too!

In the meantime, while he emailed me a couple times each week, he kept busy with his work, with his passion for theater (not just attending shows, singing and performing in them!), spending time with his children, taking care of his youngest child who lived with him, living his very full life–even traveling to Hawaii.

I kept myself occupied too: full-time job, four children, my life, and working my way through the list of bachelors, some of whom I’ve written about.

Searching high and low for “Mr. Awesome.”

Searching for that happy ending I thought I’d had but refused to give up on in spite of a Ponzi scheme, betrayal, divorce and total life change.

And then unexpectedly, one day I got another email from Bachelor #5.

Inviting me to dinner.

Good Men Aren’t Jell-o!

Date: August 21, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“There are much easier things in life than finding a good man–nailing Jell-o to a tree, for instance.” (Author Unknown)

Don’t get me wrong. There are a lot of good men out there, I’m just thinking that many of them (most of them?) are already married! Thus the “long” list of bachelors I’ve compiled in my quest for a happy ending.

I’ve met some good men along the way. I’ve learned something from each new friend I’ve made. And interestingly, I even think most of them have helped me on the path to healing in one way or another, some much more than others.

However, after just two months of dating, I was tired of it. I had absolutely loved being single the first time. In fact, when I married in 1989, a part of me was sad to leave my single life. But not the second time around. Although I had determined to make the most of the situation I had been thrust in, and tried to look for the positive and attempted to make myself like it, after a couple of months I realized it wasn’t working. Given the choice, I would have chosen to be married to the right man rather than be single. The newness of it all, the “excitement” (if that’s what you call being unexpectedly single and forced to meet new people in your new life) had worn off.

I was simply a divorced mother of four who had never planned or expected to be in that position.

Now, many months later, the dreaded “I’ve gotten used to it” has transpired. Just what I didn’t want to have happen! But I guess you can say that about many aspects of the unexpected life. It is who I am. I don’t cringe when people realize I’m single (and divorced) and wonder what they’re thinking about me any more. I don’t try to hide the fact that I’m divorced. It is what it is.

I’ve had to completely leave my comfort zone and face life, and everything else, alone. I’ve learned to socialize by myself again. I’m happy. And believe it or not, there are even things I’ll miss about my single life should my situation ever change. I NEVER expected to say that!

I’ve also learned that life goes on. I don’t advocate divorce by any means, and I am a strong defender, despite my experience, of marriage and family. But I’ve learned the world doesn’t end when a marriage does. I still have my own little family. And despite the scar of divorce, we’re doing so well and feeling so whole, that on the infrequent occasion when someone refers to my family as “broken,” it surprises me. I don’t think of us as that way. Different than we once were, but NOT “broken!”

Yet I keep pressing forward in dating despite being tired of it. I tell myself I’m lucky. After all, not every woman gets to meet new people (handsome men), date them, and everything else attendant with the unexpected and single life. (That’s the PR spin I put on my situation for myself to motivate me not to quit or give up too soon. I just have to keep telling myself I believe it, too!)

So, in the spirit of pressing forward, let me tell you about another man.

Bachelor #5.

And I’m pretty sure he is NOT a fan of Jell-o.

The BIG “Board Breaker” (And A Bright Spot)

Date: August 20, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

There was a time in my life when the following board breaker would have been, possibly, the ultimate humiliation.

But it’s funny how your perspective changes when you discover the man you have loved, trusted and been married to for 20 years has been running a Ponzi scheme, stealing millions of dollars, is heading to prison, and shatters your world very publicly ending in a divorce publicized in local and national media. (Just what every young girl dreams of. Not!)

Given the fact I’ve lived through what I believe is one of the more tragic yet embarrassing experiences, at least in my world, I’m not sure I have it in me to be mortified any more. Thankfully I’m unable to be embarrassed, because I’m still single and the following board breaker illustrates what single women are up against.

Single men.

Sometimes rejection.

Possible humiliation. (If you haven’t already lived through an ultimate humiliation, that is.)

One night, I went to a single’s dance alone. I danced, met some new friends, and then headed out for a break. When I returned, a song from the 80s that I loved was playing. So I decided to take matters into my own hands.
I decided to ask someone to dance. I looked around, found a man near me, asked, “Would you like to dance?”

And he said, “No.”

I was shocked! I never expected THAT. My parents taught me to never say no, regardless of who the boy was or what I thought of him. And there I was, rejected! Just like that. I know I’m not the biggest catch, but clearly, that man was not raised by parents. Lol.

I’m sure the shock showed in my face because he tried to explain that he’d had his eye on someone all night and wanted to catch her as she came off the dance floor. But it didn’t really help me. I couldn’t prevent the following thoughts: “What bad manners! How rude! What a loser!” And finally, “Well, you can’t expect to appeal to every one… especially VERY ordinary single men!”

I decided those dances didn’t work for me. And then, like Mr. Board Breaker who wouldn’t give up although his audience is cringing at his failure, he’s swaying on his feet from beating himself over the head with a board time and time again to no avail, I tried another dance the following month! (I know–slow learner.)

I danced, met some new friends, took a break, and then an 80s song I loved came on as I returned to the room. I didn’t want to miss the song, so I decided to ask a man to dance. What are the odds of a man saying no when you ask him to dance? I’d already experienced my “once in a lifetime” rejection at the last dance, so what did I have to lose by asking a man to dance a second time?

Apparently, what little dignity I had left because I asked a much less ordinary man to dance and HE said no!

He had an excuse, too. He said he had injured his leg and couldn’t dance. (Then WHY had he gone to a dance?) But at least he was nice, friendly, talkative and shared some singles information with me for the next few songs we didn’t dance. He told me to friend him on Facebook and he’d introduce me to lots of single people and singles activities. I tried to believe his excuse was real, and I didn’t see him dance once the entire night, so maybe it was the truth. But it was still a rejection!

At a subsequent dance I saw the same man (Reject #2, lets call him), this time dancing, and thought, “Hmm! His leg must be better.” I didn’t give him the evil eye or anything, I didn’t even stare at him, but before I knew it, the song had ended and he made his way over to me and asked me to dance–three songs in a row. So maybe he rejected me for a legitimate reason? Or maybe he was just trying to make up for his initial bad manners! Lol.

Too bad I’m not a gambler. Sometimes I have incredible luck. I mean, what are the odds of asking a man to dance and getting rejected? And getting rejected two dances in a row? For that matter, what are the odds of marrying a man who does what my former spouse did?

Lucky me.

However, a bright spot in the single life, a bit of glue that helps me hold it all together and keeps me going in the social “game” of dating and the unexpected life that is now mine, are singles lunches. (And I owe them to the second man who rejected me. He told me he’d introduce me to some great single people and singles activities and he did.)

Singles lunches are the best thing I’ve done as a single woman. They’re the most fun I’ve had, too. It’s just a group of singles under 45 years old who get together once a week for lunch. A different restaurant every week. You pay for yourself. And right up front the group informs you: don’t come to fall in love; just come, eat lunch and make friends.

The lunches are no pressure. They don’t cut into my evenings or my time with my children. I’ve only met friends there. Kind friends who text or call me to check on me occasionally or to let me know of a great activity I shouldn’t miss. Those lunches are my oasis in the desert of my single life! (A little dramatic, I’m just trying to emphasize how great I think they are. Thanks, Adam, for inventing them and coordinating them. I have loved participating in them!)

A bright spot amid my share of board breakers!

And yet, the dating continues despite the board breakers.

I just can’t give up searching for that happy ending.

Mr. Board Breaker

Date: August 19, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“Breaking is a martial arts skill that is used in competition, demonstration and testing. Breaking is an action where a martial artist uses a striking surface to break one or more objects using the skills honed in their art form. The striking surface is usually a hand or a foot, but may also be a fingertip, toe, head, elbow, knuckle or knee. The most common object is a piece of wood, though it is also common to break bricks or cinder blocks.” (Wikipedia)

Mr. Board Breaker.

He isn’t a bachelor. I didn’t date him; I never even met him. I saw him on a YouTube video, actually.

He said his was a motivational video–to show you can do anything if you set your mind to it. He stood in front of the camera, speaking positive and encouraging words about breaking a board over his head, and then offered a demonstration. He grabbed a board, smashed it over his head…and nothing happened. He repeated the effort. Again, nothing happened.

But he didn’t give up.

Time and again he smashed his skull with wood and couldn’t break the board. He swayed on his feet as he narrated his motivational speech (probably unsteady on his feet due to pain) but he didn’t give up trying to break a board over his head (probably due to brain damage!) He even switched to a different board and continued his attempts.

Time and again he failed, but Mr. Board Breaker just would not give up! I don’t know how many times he failed to break a board over his head, but it was enough that it eventually made me cringe with each additional attempt.
And then, eventually, he succeeded!

Mr. Board Breaker reminded me of being single!

I’ve had a few “board breakers” too. You know, things I’ve optimistically endeavored to do despite the lack of results I had hoped for.

Lets recap a few of mine.

I tried my church’s Sunday night meetings; we all know how well those worked for me. (They didn’t.) I never met a single friend there but had some weird experiences for sure. I tried the singles dances held at my church and other singles dances; we all know how well those worked for me, too. I had a few limited successes from those; but mostly it was a showcase of very interesting characters. Despite the fact these were board breakers for me, I maintain my gratitude that they exist. I am thankful there is some place for single people to go to socialize and meet other people.

I also tried the online thing as I’ve previously shared. I’ve read statistics that say 1 out of 5 to 1 out of 8 couples today met online. That’s encouraging, right? Personally, I tried a total of 3 different sites: 1 for 24 hours, 1 for one month, and 1 for less than a month.) How well that worked for me has yet to be decided.

And in the spirit of honesty and total disclosure, there’s a final board breaker I have to share. A board breaker of a divorced woman living in Utah seeking to successfully “break the board” of her single status and find that happily ever after ending she just can’t quit believing is out there for her.

I couldn’t believe this happened to me.

Cue: The sound of splintering wood…

Six Degrees

Date: August 18, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

I had an experience last week that reminded me of a unique “phenomenon.” Six degrees of separation. Ever heard of it?

“Six degrees of separation” (also known as the “Human Web”) refers to the idea that everyone is at most six steps away from any other person on Earth, so that a chain of ‘a friend of a friend’ statements can be made to connect any two people in six steps or fewer.” (Wikipedia)

I’d heard of this “phenomenon” prior to entering my unexpected life, but it has proven true over and over again as I’ve lived it.

Several months ago, a co-worker of mine was curious about a bachelor I was dating, input the bachelor’s name into Facebook, and up popped a mutual friend my co-worker and the bachelor had! What is that? Two degrees of separation. My co-worker joked, “Should I ‘friend’ the man you’re dating? Wouldn’t THAT be funny?”

Then I met my birth mother only to discover her best friend and college roommate was a friend of mine in Colorado! One degree of separation.

Then last week at my company’s summer party, the COO’s wife introduced herself to me and told me we have a mutual friend. She said her cousin, one of her closest friends, is a friend of mine from Colorado. (And although she was kind enough not to mention it, her cousin is also a victim of my former spouse.)

I hadn’t heard from my friend since the tragic revelations last year, so I was surprised when the COO’s wife told me she had a message for me from her. Suddenly I couldn’t breathe; I didn’t dare breathe. I felt sick. I thought, “Is this how the rest of my life will be? No matter where I go, no matter how much time passes, no matter how much I rebuild my life, am I never going to be free from the tentacles of my former spouse and the crimes he committed?”

I wondered how I was going to be able to endure it. For the rest of my life. I braced myself for the “message.” I’ve received enough of those to worry it wasn’t going to be a positive experience for me. Then I wondered if I was about to be suddenly thrust onto a path that was the beginning of the end to losing my job. (A little paranoid on my part. O.k., a lot paranoid. But such are the scars of blissfully living your life until the day you find out it has all been a lie, that you are left with nothing and are alone to provide for and raise your children.)

Shame on me for thinking that.

Instead, the message was, “She wants you to know she loves you, she LOVES you, she loves you…” and she hugged me.

I honestly don’t know what the rest of the message was, because as soon as I heard that first part, I couldn’t hear anything else. Tears were streaming down my cheeks. I was overwhelmed, again, at the kindness and goodness of people. And I was chatting with the cousin and friend of one of them.

It’s in the most unexpected places and manifests itself in the most unexpected moments, but it’s there. And I’m so grateful that it is. Another person betrayed by my former husband and yet, instead of reacting with hatred and venom, she has chosen another course. Maybe a harder path in some ways (it seems like the natural inclination might be that it’s easier to give in to anger and hatred and retaliate “an eye for an eye” rather than respond with forgiveness) but such goodness is a better way to live, for sure.

She may have lost her money, but she didn’t lose what matters most; what is truly of value. Ponzi scheme or not, poor economy notwithstanding, “Goodness is the only investment that never fails.” (Henry David Thoreau)

There may be “six degrees of separation” (or less!) to any other person on earth. But I believe there is even less than that to get to the heart of the goodness of others. And that inspires me.

“It is not what they profess but what they practice that makes them good.” (Greek Proverb)

So there I sat, tears streaming down my cheeks at a company party at a park in the summertime in Utah. Struck, not for the first time, by the impact our choices have on others. Touched by the effect one woman’s choice had on me. And awed by the strength, courage and example of one who practices what she has professed to be.

It made a difference in my life. At my company picnic. I never expected that.