I don’t think the divorce made me bitter. I really don’t. I mean, at first I was devastated but I never really got mad about it. I went through the normal stages of loss. I think it took longer than necessary but that was me, not the people in my life. I just wasn’t ready to give up some of the feelings that I had. I liked living in the misery. I, of course, sought help and got it. I know that I am a better person for the divorce. I know that I healed better in the last 4 years then if I tried to get through it sooner. Maybe not the best way to get over it but it was what I had to do to keep me sane. I’m a slow learner I guess.
So the fact that I don’t think I’m bitter is something I’m telling myself over the last couple of years when it comes to chick flicks. I honestly cannot handle them. I have not seen some of the major ones that girlfriends talk about. I don’t think it’s realistic to watch them. Those situations with those people will never happen in my life. I’m not blonde, skinny; I do not have flawless skin. I have the frizziest hair I have ever seen if I grow it out longer then my chin. I attempt to color my hair to save money and ultimately end up looking like Elvira because I just go dark no matter what color I choose. I lose and gain weight on a regular basis and I will not be a size 2…maybe a 12 but I would have to starve myself to get lower than that. And I don’t have the discipline to do that. So chick flicks are not something I want to invest in. I just don’t identify with the circumstances or the hijinx that happens when two meet and fall in love and save the planet.
I don’t remember liking chick flicks before the divorce but I also don’t remember hating them. I was reading chick lit but towards the end that was starting to not work for me. Unfortunately, I was not living in reality when reading those books and so I had to stop reading them. I have one book that I still read and will probably keep doing so because it’s really good. I have one chick flick that I think is great and will keep watching it because it’s really good. But I have made a conscious decision to not watch movies or read anymore books because I tend to really get into movies and books and I get wrapped up in the stories and I get invested. When I’m reading, I live as those characters and I start thinking about how I would react in those situations and how I would like it to end. Trying to put myself in that situation.
I have a pretty fierce imagination. It’s a lifetime of reading to escape or watching a life lived differently than mine. I have tendencies to day dream when I’m not engaged in work or with people. I’ve had these scenarios, as I call them, all my life and I run them through my head on a regular basis. They always change for something I’ve thought of or read that day. And I run them over and over. To the point where I sometimes forget where I really am. If I have a weekend of reading and watching movies, I wake up Monday morning, crashing down to reality. They are that vivid. And I am constantly disappointed because I didn’t achieve the outcome I wanted and rehearsed in my head. I have had to apologize to people in my life because I have voiced my frustration with them or the situation because it did not go the way I needed/wanted/had to have it go only to realize that it was something in my head and not lived outside of that.
And that is what Chick Flicks mean to me; shattered and unrealistic expectations, misunderstanding and heartache. Why in the world would you put yourself in that situation? Why put those in your life in those situations? Women go through life wanting to have the significant others in their life to do the things that the Hollywood Hotties do in those movies and that is unrealistic to put others up against that measuring stick.
Maybe I am bitter….I probably come across as being against romance and true love. To the contrary….I would love to live a chick flick. I really would give anything to have a love that defies the odds. Go to exotic places and be whoo’d. Have someone tell me how beautiful I am and how I make him lose his breathe because I’m the only thing in the world that would kill him if he lost me. I would kill to have someone tell me that they adore me, everything about me. I want to hold hands when we walk and I really would give anything to find myself dancing in the kitchen with him because it feels good to be held close. All these things….I would give anything to have. But I know that reality kicks in and I’m leaning closer to 40 and I’m no closer to any of those things. You couldn’t dance in my kitchen, I think my passport is ready to expire and so I couldn’t get to an exotic place and I don’t think I’m a person that someone can adore.
So, while I probably come across as bitter, I really am not. I probably hold this grudge against the movies and books because I’m trying to make a statement to myself that I’m being realistic and not allowing any kind of hope of romance in. Maybe I need to watch more movies that are not centered on guns, blood and bad ass costumes. I enjoy those but they don't actually make me feel sexy or show me ways to entice a husband. I’m beginning to see where I might have to make some alterations. I could stand to maybe feel like a woman rather then a bystander to a drive by shooting.
I hope this doesn't come across as a social statement. It's really not. I see where my thinking is wrong and that it would behoove me to actually open my mind up to trying new things (not just chick flicks) and to be open to having different outcomes to those I have concocted up in my weird scenarios. This is probably a whole session (or two) with my therapist....I'll have to forward her the post and see what we can talk about next week!
This sounds like wild rantings of a lunatic. It really does....crap...but I have a pretty big ego and I'm going to put this out there. I'm not ranting, I really don't think so. But I guess I have to look at my motivations around why I'm writing this post.
I've got a whole weekend and Netflix...maybe I'll look into the romance movies and try not to be so scorned. Because I'm really not....I swear.
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