Living Happily Ever After
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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.

The Irony of The Search

Date: August 17, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“Be careful going in search of adventure – it’s ridiculously easy to find.” (William Least Heat-Moon)

It’s ironic that we ever met, my birth mother and I.

After we found each other via Facebook, she told me of her 10 year search. She had done everything she could think of to find me, but with no success. (We discovered she’d been given fake names for my parents, among other incorrect information when I was born.) And although she had listed her information on several registries that specialize in uniting birth parents and their children, I hadn’t heard of any of them. I wasn’t registered anywhere. I’d never planned to find her.

But for being thrust into my unexpected life and finally feeling the need for my medical history, we probably never would have found each other. And we certainly never would have met but for an impulsive act.

Years ago, she had the impression I knew who she was, where she was and that I had chosen not to contact her because I was happy and doing well. (That was true. I’d known her address since approximately 1997 and had never acted on the information.) She held to that belief, continued living her life, until early December 2009 when she fasted, prayed and meditated that she would find me.

When she got on Facebook weeks after that to check her inbox, she was stunned to see I had sent my impulsive message 2-3 days after her meditation!

“You know, I’ve often thought if I were much older, I might not have done that…As you get older, you get more conservative, but I was still young enough to be a little bit impulsive.” (Kirk Douglas)

And I’d been thinking I was old, too old, an “old bag!” Thank goodness I was still “young” enough to be impulsive about something. You’ll never guess what I think I have to thank for that: my unexpected life.

I’ve seen firsthand that you can do everything “right,” you can do everything in your power to achieve one specific outcome, you can be on course and living your dream but you still may end up with a completely different life– maybe even a life you didn’t necessarily want when it initially became yours. Starting over unexpectedly. Seeking to create a new life out of the ashes of the old. Finding new dreams.

And it’s ok.

I’ve learned it IS possible to start over even when you think you’re old. It IS possible to dig yourself out of the darkest disaster. It IS possible to have faith, hope and trust a lot more and to choose to worry a lot less. It IS possible to create a new life and to dream new and different dreams than you ever have before. And it IS possible to be equally happy in the new and unexpected life; maybe even happier.

I’m living proof of that.

Thanks to my unexpected life.

MAC Lipstick And One Water Ski

Date: August 16, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

Our relationship continues.

Every time we talk, text or see each other, she continues be so friendly, kind, patient and loving. She hugs me. She doesn’t miss a chance to express her love and gratitude for me. She shares her perspective and experience with me. She isn’t afraid to tell me, honestly, what she thinks. She is accepting of everyone. She is beautiful inside and out. She is a positive force for good in the world, in my life and for my children.

We’re getting to know each other. We even had our first “sleep over” last month, just she and I–going to dinner, soaking in a hot mineral tub at The Homestead and chatting about anything and everything until late at night.

My children are getting to know her and getting used to her. The first time they met her, they stared at her. A lot. I couldn’t figure out what their problem was, but every time I’d look at my two oldest children, they’d be raising their eyebrows at each other or laughing. On the way home, I asked them what was so funny.

My oldest son said, “Mom, it’s like you two are the SAME person! You do EVERYTHING alike. It’s uncanny!” And he listed the many similarities he had observed in the short time he’d spent with her–right down to the way we both speak, to the way we get side-tracked in a conversation, to the way we talk with our hands (even on the phone), to the way we both have to have lipstick on all of the time, to the way we apply our lipstick in the same way,multi-tasking, while we drive a car! (To the fact that both of us carry and use MAC lipstick without the lids–we lose them.)

“I drive with my knees. Otherwise, how can I put on my lipstick and talk on my phone?” (Sharon Stone)

Although we have our differences.

My birth mother took me out in her boat the other weekend. She is 66 years old now, still really trim and very fit and athletic. She easily got up on one ski (something I’ve never been able to do), skied all around the reservoir (I’ve never been able to do that–I crash before I make it that far!), and then took one foot out of the ski so she could do stunt poses while the boat towed her. (Something I’ve never thought to do and wouldn’t be able to even if I wanted to!)

When she held on to the tow rope with her toes to free her hands so she could do even bigger stunt poses, I had to shake my head in awe. I thought everyone had been joking when they told me she’d water ski with her toes given the chance! Nope.

Clearly, I got ripped off in the genetics of water skiing department!

But that’s ok. She has two skis in her boat. And apparently, I’ll be the only one using two skis as I maintain a death grip on the tow rope…with BOTH hands.

“How about that? That squirrel can water ski.” (Ron Burgundy aka. Will Ferrell, “Anchorman“)

Things You Never Even Knew

Date: August 15, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

““A good friend is a connection to life- a tie to the past, a road to the future, the key to sanity in a totally insane world.” (Lois Wyse)

There was a lot we didn’t know about each other, but it wasn’t like being with a total stranger. There is some type of connection there. She said, “It’s just so strange having a daughter I have no mother-daughter history with!” That probably said it all.

At one point I noticed I was sitting on her couch with my feet tucked under me and to the side, like I always do. It dawned on me: I was putting my feet on her couch! How rude! I quickly moved to put my feet on the floor, hoping she hadn’t noticed my bad manners. And then I noticed the way she was sitting. With her feet tucked under her to the side. She had her feet on the furniture too.

Meeting a birth mother is like that. You see why you do things you never even knew you did.

A Phone Call

Date: August 14, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

She thought it would be a fun joke for us to call our mutual friend together.

In some ways it would have been, but due to the Ponzi scheme perpetrated by my former spouse, I was scared to call. Although he hadn’t been a victim, my friend’s husband was one person my ex-husband had specifically mentioned to me as being unfriendly toward him after his crimes were revealed. I wasn’t sure how a phone call from Andrea Merriman would be received. But I didn’t want to get into all of that my first meeting with my birth mother!

So I made the call. I figured if the husband hung up on me, THEN would be the time to explain. And wouldn’t you know it? Just my luck. The husband answered the phone when I called.

He isn’t a mean man, just gruff, and I am sure a phone call from me was the last thing he imagined for himself that night. He asked me my name a couple of times. When he finally realized it was Andrea Merriman, he said simply, “What do you want?” I asked if I could speak to his wife.

She got on the phone and asked me if everything was all right. We hadn’t communicated for awhile. I told her I didn’t need anything, I was just calling to let her know I’d met an old friend of hers and gave the phone to my birth mother.

They had QUITE a chat. Old friends catching up on their lives in the most unexpected of ways!

The rest of the evening consisted of things you’d expect when reuniting with the mother who gave you life. I showed her pictures of my childhood and life, she showed me pictures of her children. I met one of her five children (and I really liked him.) She told me everything she could remember about my birth father, I told her about my children and divorce and new life; we enjoyed a very comfortable visit.

But at the top of my list of interesting things about our first meeting was the fact that my Colorado friend, a friend of mine since approximately 1994, had not only known my birth mother but had been her best friend and college roommate!

Have I ever said it’s a SMALL world? Because I really believe it is!

A Seriously Small World

Date: August 13, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“Aw, man, it’s a small world!” (“Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back,” 2001)

We talked. We laughed. We shared experiences from our lives. It was uncanny how much we had in common. Seriously, a LOT in common. Even some of the same friends!

As an adult I’d made an older friend in Colorado. She had adopted her children and once we got on the subject of adoption; I told her I had been adopted too. She asked me what I knew of my birth mother and I told her everything except my birth mother’s name. Turns out, my friend had gone to the same university in Utah as my birth mother and had been on the same dance team! She wanted to know the name, she was just sure she’d know her.

I was afraid of that, too. Which is why I didn’t feel I could tell anyone the name. (I learned to be a lot more circumspect after that. I was learning how seriously small the world is.) So instead, my friend told me her maiden name and told me to go home and look at the pictures I was in possession of and see if she was in them.

She was.

I didn’t get back with her, hoping my friend would forget all about it, but she followed up with me. I admitted she was in the pictures with my birth mother and told her she probably had known my birth mother. She racked her brain trying to figure out who my birth mother could be. For years. But she never mentioned any names and I never volunteered any information.

In the meantime, we continued to visit together about once a month, and even went out to lunch for my birthday for several years.

The first time I met my birth mother in person, at some point in the evening I said, “Oh! I think I might know someone you know!” I mentioned my friend and our association over several years, revealed the woman’s first name but was struggling to remember her maiden name, when my birth mother named it for me.

She said, “Not only do I know her, she was my best friend all through college. We were roommates. I was the matron of honor at her wedding!”

How is THAT for a small world? A seriously small world!

“It’s a small world. No kidding.” (“Just Friends,” 2005)

Full Circle

Date: August 12, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“I don’t have to look up my family tree, because I know that I’m the sap.” (Fred Allen)

I could have died. Did I really say that out loud?

Thankfully, she laughed, opened the door and invited me into her home. And then, like a total mother, she said, “Let me look at you!” and had me turn all the way around in a circle for inspection.

She was friendly, kind, loving, accepting and interesting to talk to. She was also very open with her thoughts and feelings. I quickly learned she was not about judging others or making judgements. She had counseled me not to judge her, and the sign at her door was a good reminder: “Please leave your judgments, and your shoes, at the door.”

I think it was an exciting moment for both of us.

I apologized for my tacky first words, but maintained that they were true. She laughed and said at her age, it was a huge compliment. She didn’t mind them one bit!

There were no tears, just smiles, until she expressed her gratitude for my parents and the way they had raised me. She told me she felt that although they weren’t here any more, they were still very aware of me, that they were supportive of our meeting and that she could be here for me now. THAT is what made me cry.

It was a tender moment.

I remembered every single birthday of my entire life, when my mom would look at me funny and start to cry. (It was almost a ritual.) I’d ask her why she was crying. And she’d say, “I’m just thinking of your biological mother. I wonder what she is thinking today? And I am just so grateful to her for bringing you into this world!” And there stood the woman who had brought me into the world expressing gratitude for my parents. It was as if some part of the adoption process had come full circle.

She hugged me.

And then we sat down to begin to get acquainted.

“Other things may change us, but we start and end with the family.” (Anthony Brandt)