Yesterday was one of those times.
Emotional space invaded by someone I think is genuinely crazy, I found myself wrapped up in fury -- and feeling helpless at the same time.
As I walked, almost blind to my surroundings, I kept weighing the questions.
How DARE he think that he can approach me?
How safe am I, a single mom living in a semi-rural area?
Am I overreacting?
Trust me, these are questions I don't even like to think about. And though the police were helpful, I don't feel a whole lot safer after having brought them up to date on my "stalker."
Dating is supposed to be about chemistry, fun, a little infatuation. It's not supposed to be about ongoing disappointment -- there should, as a new friend said in a whole other context, be some pastry along with the oatmeal.
But the fact that the fruit of my dating experiences (so far) has been experiences I either would like to forget or result in the fervent hope that the man will forget me does make me wonder about how toxic they have been. Ongoing exposure to bad behavior is probably like ongoing exposure to drugs or alcohol -- it changes one inside.
In my ongoing bid for perspective, I remind myself that, individually, there are lots of men I like.
The fact is that most of the men I knew are wonderful --- stable, funny, generous, sweet.
And most of them, of course, are married to women who are equally wonderful.
Yes, I've run into mostly cads and bounders online. But that doesn't mean the whole universe of men are jerks.
In theory, I'm choosing to return to a life that, without the "excitement" of dating, has more stability and genuine friendship with both genders.
The only way not to left bad feelings and atrocious actions drive the bus is to refuse to ride on it.
Time for detox.
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