(Part I of God Knows How Many)

When you live with dogs and cats and a somewhat untidy husband, seeing a spot of water on the kitchen floor does not seem like a big deal. You just wipe it up and go about your business.

Until 30 minutes later when you notice that the spot of water has returned, despite no one having been in the kitchen in the interim. And you will then look at the floor perplexed for about three seconds, until you realize you are going to look up and see a leaky ceiling. Which you do.

So then you call your husband into the kitchen to point out the leak to him – because he is male and will want to fix the problem instead of wanting to go shopping and have it magically fix itself – and he will immediately get on a chair to examine, up close, how much damage has been done and realize the answer is "a lot" when his hand goes directly through the ceiling and water and plaster come pouring out on top of him, the chair, the table, the floor, you, and the dog.

And you will not say it aloud because you do not want to rain – ha, ha – on your own parade, but you realize right at that very moment how much you hate being a homeowner.

But it will get worse before it gets better and when it's all over you will realize not only do you not want to be a homeowner, you don't even want to be married.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

It has nothing to do with anyone but me. I just married too early and took on too much too early and all for the wrong reasons and while I thought it was what I wanted, it wasn't. I could never get it to fit quite right.

A lot of the time I was happy enough. Bored out of my skull, sure, but I loved my husband and did my best to find ways to make everything seem more interesting. I spent a lot of time on crafty projects, and did my best to decorate a big house on a moderate budget and zero experience. But my family all lived out of state, and we had almost no friends because that's what happens when you're young and married and living in the suburbs and don't have kids.

So did I mention? With the boring?

I am going to make a stupid analogy involving…um…let's try shoes. (Consider it an homage to the silver sparkly flip-flops I'm wearing today.) (Everyone should have sparkly shoes.) Ready?

Sometimes you walk past a store window and you see a pair of shoes you love. And you go into the store and you try them on and they are the right price and the right style and they fit! Almost! But Almost! is awesome because the shoes are darling and you have to have them and Almost! might very soon translate into Broken-In and PERFECT. So you buy them. And you wear them all the time, even though they're still slightly uncomfortable, because you know that if you just hold out for one more day of walking, they will finally look and feel the way you want them to. Because they have to because they are so damn cute.

But then one day, after having tried band-aids and cotton and cushions and gel inserts and even going so far as to try and change how you walk, you look down at your darling shoes and realize they are always going to rub your heel the wrong way. The toes are always going to be too tight. You may like the way they look, but they will pinch your feet as long as you wear them. No matter how hard you've tried, the shoes still don't fit. And they never will.
How was that? Do we like that metaphor? Because here's where the metaphor takes us:

I had sort of started realizing the darling shoes weren't fitting so well in a general sense, but I kept thinking another day of walking around with them would do it. It wasn't until one day, standing in the Home Depot with my mother-in-law, that I realized it was time to take the damn shoes off.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

It just felt like the world was happening somewhere else. I dreamed of city living, but it seemed so far away and scary and impossible. Plus a big part of me really liked having a big house that was sturdy and stable and mine, with a job that allowed me to work from home.

On the other hand, the whole set-up sort of felt like…prison.

Alright, I’m being dramatic, but I couldn’t quite figure it out. I found myself wondering, all the time, How does everyone else do it? How does everyone else find joy in staying at home and tending to their houses? What is wrong with me? Is it just a matter of having kids? Does having kids suddenly make the boringness of every day un-boring? But good lord, I don’t want to have kids just so that I have something to do…

And while those doubts were swirling around in my head, I realized that my husband would be completely content* to wake up every day and have things just as they were forever and ever.

Sort of like his parents did.

*Well, except probably he’d prefer it if his wife weren’t terrified of the lifestyle they’d signed up for.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

After it started raining in our kitchen, we called a plumber who came and fixed our leak. When he left, we had a square hole in our ceiling that needed to be dry-walled. David happened to mention this to his parents and they said we needn’t hire anyone, that Larry (Dave’s father) had a lot of experience with dry-wall, and that they would come to our house over the weekend to help with that and a few other projects.

[I will tell you right now, in case this wasn’t made painfully obvious already a million times over, I am a deeply, deeply flawed individual. And also horrible and evil. But I have come to terms (now) with who I am and what I like, and spending my weekend addressing dry-wall issues will never, ever be something I look forward to unless somehow it involves cocktails and, I dunno, sparkly shoes.]
When Larry and Kathie arrived on that Saturday morning, they brought coffee and donuts and Dave’s younger brother, Mark. And all sorts of tools and equipment. They were happy to be there and happy to be helping.

But as the day and weekend progressed, I just felt worse and worse and worse.

I stood in my kitchen, watching my life slooooooooowly draggggggggging out before my eyes. I saw endless weekends of “house projects” just like this one. I saw year after year of spending time with my in-laws, for whom acceptable topics of conversation were:
  • The weather
  • Golf
  • TV shows, movies, and books
  • Larry’s job
  • Kathie’s job
  • David’s job
  • Mark’s job
  • People Larry, Kathie, David, and Mark knew
  • House projects
Unacceptable topics of conversation:
  • Anything of substance – we did not talk about serious subjects, ever
  • Anything about me – topics or subjects involving only me, my job, or my family were met with polite interest at best, but I had a time limit; I knew I’d passed my limit when Larry would start humming in the middle of my speaking
My in-laws were basically kind and supportive people, but mostly the problem was that I had nothing in common with them except their son. When I met him, that was more than enough. What I realized, though, was that he really wanted their life.

And I most certainly did not.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The other major project that weekend was installing the adorable chandelier and sconce I’d recently purchased on eBay. I loved the fixtures. They were perfect for the kitchen and I was proud and excited to be taking the pains I was to make the house as warm and inviting as possible. Installation of the fixtures was an absolutely secondary thought at best, and I had planned on hiring an electrician to do it.

My in-laws, having heard of my plans, insisted that hiring someone would be a waste of money.

So in addition to the ceiling dry-wall, they set out to install my fixtures that weekend. First the chandelier, then the sconce. But they realized that in order to mount the sconce properly, "we" would need some sort of sconce-mounty-thingie and "we" would need to go to Home Depot to find it.

It was determined that Kathie and I would go to Home Depot while Dave and Larry and Mark continued with various construction projects.

Kathie drove us. It was the first and only time I would be in a car alone with her, and I remember feeling completely and utterly uncomfortable.

When we finally got there, twenty prickly minutes later, she determined that we should split up, because even though I only had some vague idea of what we were looking for, we would make better time if we both went looking.

Better time?

How about two hours?

We were at Home Depot for two hours looking for some single, mystery switch plate that I could not have cared less about.

All the joy I'd experienced in acquiring the light fixtures drained with each minute I spent wandering the aisles looking for some random piece of equipment I could have just paid someone to install. You know? So that instead of spending an entire day putting up a light, I could have spent it...


...well, damn it all. What would I have spent it doing?

The truth was, I knew I had nothing better to do then spend an entire afternoon, weekend, hell, an entire MONTH putting up a light. It wouldn't have made a difference. And that knowledge didn’t help one bit.

So for two hours, I wandered past people who were clearly happy to be buying their wood and paint and garden supplies. People who were excited to be installing or building or expanding or planting or repairing. People who were mining for That Thing they needed that would make their homes perfect.

And I spent two hours slowly recognizing that I was never going to find anything like that.

No purchase at the Home Depot would be enough to repair a home I didn’t really want to go back to.

The shoes were never going to fit.


  1. So if TV shows, movies, and books were acceptable conversation topics, am I safe in assuming your in-laws didn't exactly share your taste?

    Because I could talk for years, decades even, about the above -- as long as there was some good common ground.

    Keep the divorce stories coming!! I'm hoping they will inspire my own to come out finally :-)

  2. woops, that sounds bad. like we both had more than one divorce apiece.


  3. I got mild claustrophobia reading this.

    I can't imagine what it was to live it.

    So did you have an inkling prior to the wedding? Did you tell anyone? Did they tell you it was cold feet?

    I only ask as I am morally opposed to anyone being told he/she has cold feet prior to a wedding.

  4. i agree with you, Whinger.

    yes, i had an inkling before the wedding. but no, i didn't tell anyone, and no, no one suggested as much to me. i spent a LOT of time convincing the entire world -- myself included -- that THAT was the life i wanted and needed.


  5. I too have used the shoe analogy, though with significantly less eloquence. I did, however, figure it out before the wedding. Four months before the wedding, to be precise. Which means by this time, all of the NON-REFUNDABLE deposits had been paid, and gifts from the parents had been purchased, and the engagement party had happened. And I did not care, because I figured out I had been planning a wedding, not a marriage. And I high-tailed it out of there as fast as I could.

    When the groom and his parents tried to take me to small claims court to sue me for the money that was lost on the non-refundable deposits, I knew I had made the right decision.

    1. Can you blame them for takin you to court? It's called taking responsibility for your actions and realizing there's consequences. If i'd had paid a lot of "NON-REFUNDABLE deposits" only for you to "high-tail it out of there as fast as you could" I would have taken you to court too. Sounds like you were / are a little on the immature side.

  6. But don't people really just get nervous with the realization that something permanent is about to happen? I can imagine getting cold feet about, for instance, having a child. And being very excited, but very, very scared.

  7. Love the shoe analogy, 'cause I used to do that all the time (with both men and actual shoes.)

  8. Kristy, that was such a beautiful post. Really good writing.

  9. What a great description. Don't you realize, though, that real life is all about wandering around Home Depot not being able to find what you want? Sooner or later you are going to be doing it again. Unless, that is, you and Ish are rich enough to, you know, hire an electrician every time you need a light bulb changed.

    Dewey, you are my hero(ine)! My wife got cold feet before her (first) marriage but just didn't have the nerve to call it off. And she's not what you'd call shy. Small claims court, though. Whew! Lucky escape.

  10. Star FBM - I think there's a big difference between being scared of the significance, and hesitant about the commitment in general.

    Would you want to think that your s/o was walking down the aisle with ANY hesitations? I'd rather someone walk out on me.

    Dewey - That's awesome. What in the WORLD did they hope to gain by taking you to court? Did they hope to make you feel sorry?

  11. Oh man. I, too, got claustrophobia reading this.

    So glad for you that it's over. Beyond glad, because no one should have to compromise. Not on that.

  12. Star FBM & Whinge: I *freaked* out before my wedding. As in, almost called it off two weeks prior, felt like I was going to throw up, die, shoot my fiance or any of the above. I *knew* that it was the wrong decision. Absolutely KNEW. Broke into a cold sweat at night and said, "This is wrong. I know it. WHAT AM I DOING?"

    And as it turned out, *I* was wrong. In retrospect, I was so overwhelmed and sickened by the prospect of FOREVER that I lost perspective on everything that I thought I knew. I was a fucking mess, crying all the time about how miserable I was, and being engaged was the worst time of my life, bar none.

    But now, I've been married for three years, and I'm self-aware enough to know that I'm not fooling myself. I actually love being married to him, and that time was a freak, not as uncommon as I thought, thing.

    So I guess, I'm saying is that it's so confusing, and everyone is different. Cold feet can sometimes be cold feet, and sometimes it's worse. But if anyone at the time truly knew what I felt, they'd have told me to break it off and run run run. And they'd have been wrong.

    And now, I have taken over like the completely rude, insane person that I am. Sorry, K.

  13. living within a budget, having friends who can help fix stuff, living simply with some one you like -- those are good things. home depot's a blast with the right person and when you like yourself you start enjoying going there alone for projects you're doing on your own... it's nice to hire people to do stuff for you, but that's really expensive and if you can do it yourself there's a great sense of accomplishment involved. How did your mother in law feel about tennis? Did she play?

  14. k,

    I also got claustrophobia reading this post, and more than a little sick to my stomach. It sounded EXACTLY the way I felt with my first marriage. I felt trapped, in prison, bored out of my mind. My in-laws were very nice people, but we had NOTHING in common. My husband wanted to be exactly like them, and our life to be exactly like theirs. I was a city girl, they were down home country folk. Living in the country surrounded by nothing but cows and cornfield for neighbors drove me crazy!

    Somehow I made it through eight year - - guess it was that strict Catholic upbringing. You know - - you get married, you have a kid, you stay married FOREVER - - even if only for the sake of the kid. I finally had to get out, and somehow found the strength and courage to do just that. No one understood why, except for me. I knew it had to be done.

    I have since remarried, and this time I was not nervous at all, because it was the RIGHT person, and the right thing to do. We have been 20 years now, and I can't wait to see how the next 20 turns out. Even HOME DEPOT can be fun, if you are with the right person! :-)

    (My apologies for the long post)

  15. Your posts are so much better, now that you've left ambivalence behind and seized your talent by the horns. Or is that pen? Keyboard? Whatever, you know what I mean...

    Thanks for being such a great and truly inspiring blogger in general. It makes my blog better, just reading your blog.

  16. good post k!

    I like that you wrote such an honest account. I have to say though that I cannot relate. I love doing house stuff - fixing it, hanging out in it. I did not get married until I was 38 and had travelled and experienced a lot before then. Married at 38, kid at 39 and still loving the choices 5 years later.

  17. nice post k. Happy that you are writing more personal and revealing posts. They read so well.

    your pal D.A.

  18. i was just going to say i loved the shoe analogy as well, but then i got all distracted by dewey's story, and i'm sitting here with my mouth open.

    oh. my. god.

  19. Jonniker & Star FBM - I stand corrected by J's story. :)

  20. K,
    Wow. That was A-mazing reading. It had been a while since one of your posts felt so real (for lack of a better word, not to say your posts have been fake). I admire the way you write so well about your experiences and how they really can touch people.
    And the shoe analogy hit me all too well, well for a pair of Manolos I bought recently for all the reasons you listed, and now sadly I know I have to find them a new home.
    You came to a realization about your marriage and chose the brave path of leaving. Few people do that, and I am amazed by people who know they deserve feeling happier. Most people just don't want to admit they made a mistake.

  21. I don't know, Whinge, I really don't. I've no idea when it's cold feet, and when it's just panic over the rite of passage, but I think they prolly feel the same. I think about this a lot, since it comes up quite a bit with friends and colleagues, and so far, I'm the only one I know with my *exact* account, but since there are books written on the very feelings I described, I'm guessing it's more common than I originally thought. I just got so sick of so many people saying that this was "the best time of my life" when it so obviously wasn't.

    Then again, I was also unlike many brides in that I *hated* planning my wedding, so I couldn't even get distracted with that. Everything felt so *final* and the wedding felt like a train I couldn't stop, and I was pretty sure on that day our lives would end and the world would explode.

    And then I got married and everything returned to exactly the way it was before (we'd lived together for three years, happily), and thank GOD.

    That wedding, it made me a lunatic, I tell you.

  22. This was a great post and a very familiar experience. We didn't have a house, but we did have a child and when it came down to it, she was the that "thing" that brought me to my senses. My ex husband and were together for 12yrs...got together very young...and tried everything we could to make it work, but you're right if the shoes don't really fit on first try-on, they're never going to.

  23. Wow. The shoe analogy. Excellent way to put it. Some shoes will eventually break in, maybe even become your favorites, while others, well, they just never fit. The courage to say "these shoes are never going to work out" is the hardest thing to drum up.


  24. I have a pair of black flats, sling back, round toe, size 6, hurt like hell. Anyone?

  25. K, that was brilliant. And geez on the feelings of clausterphobia.

    I'm sending good thoughts for a great pair or closet full of shoes. Because it's your world and you should wear whatever you want to, however and in whatever way...you know?

    and Arabella, if only you had said a size 8.

  26. I've worn those shoes. I'm just SO glad I didn't marry them -- but I came pretty damn close.

  27. Thanks for the positive feedback, again.

    The reason I posted this now -- the reason I thought it was time (I was ready) to post this now -- is because of how much joy I took in painting my hallway. It's the first time I've painted anything since I lived in that house in Connecticut.

    To those of you who were strong enough to know the shoe wasn't fitting, good for you for being so brave and aware. I admire you all.

    My "knowing" is all 20-20 hindsight. I was in love with my husband (as much as I could be), and I was not brave or aware.

    See, I wasn't the one who left. (More on that later.)

    Thank you for helping me feel comfortable enough to share.

  28. Oy...I know, I know, I know. One evening as I sat at my computer in one room and my (now ex) husband sat at his in another room, the truth of my reality suddenly dawned on me. This? Was my life. We came home at the end of our days, ate a nice dinner, and then retreated to our separate corners for the rest of the night. Habitually.

    And so I sat there quietly freaking out because, even though my husband was only about 10 feet away, it felt like a million; meanwhile he was busily killing demonspawn in order to become a 38th level dwarf. He saw nothing unusual about this routine--his parents regularly did a similar dance (minus the cybermonsters). I, on the other hand, felt insane in that moment of realization. I knew I couldn't continue to live that way.

    People think I'm crazy for divorcing my husband, and I have always lacked the words to explain why getting divorced was what kept me from going crazy. Now I have the shoe analogy. Thanks. :)

  29. Jonniker - Do you wish, in hindsight, that you'd just eloped?

    K - Same idea, different question. Would you have been as excited about getting married had you not planned a wedding?
    Sorry I'm starting a discussion here; the whole thing is just intriguing to me.

  30. I'm still not sure about these shoes, after 3 years of trying. I really hope they start to get comfortable soon. I still hope they loosen up. Thanks for the insight though. ~J.

  31. Hi Kristy,

    Nice post. That's not just blogging, it's Writing. (Not that it's your first or only such achievement.) Keep up like that and you'll have a killer book on your hands before you know it.


  32. Can I just say you read my mind on this one?

    So scary. Yet so true.

    Except in England, Home Depot is called B&Q. Same difference, though.

  33. K,

    Great post. Thanks for opening up your heart again.

    My story is very similar, except I felt trapped for different reasons. I didn't have the courage to leave either, he did the act that ended our marriage.

    Interesting to hear all these points of view. In hindsight, I feel like there was a voice inside me to which I should have listened, but it sounds like maybe you can't ever really know for sure what's going to be right...That makes me feel better. I've been guilty about not heeding that voice for years.

    Jonniker, I'm with you, I totally hated having a wedding. The whole thing felt forced, like theater. And my family acted badly. I'll never have another wedding, even if I do remarry.

    My postcript is that my ex and I are great friends now (our son is 12, so we have daily contact). It's like the shoes fit for a different purpose.

    This brings up another issue I've been thinking about lately. I'm not at all sure that I want to get married again or even live with a man again. But that's kind of a hard choice to make in our society...the message is everywhere that you have to couple. (It's analogous to the message that you have to be thin) My stepmother asks me everytime I see her if I'm "seeing someone." There's an assumption that if you're single it's not by choice, or that there's something wrong with you.

    Thanks for bringing this up, K. And, btw, I bought my first house last year (at the tender age of 43) and I LOVE home improvement projects.

  34. If we'd eloped, I could have saved myself SO MUCH PAIN and misery. I would have been happier, faster. Instead, because it was A Wedding, it felt like a deadline - like an awful, worky deadline that wouldn't be met with reward, but would be met, instantly, with 10 children, a house in the boonies and no life.

    It's just funny how many people say they got so caught up in the wedding, they forgot they were having a marriage on the negative side: when they got married, they realized what their relationship really was. In my case, I wanted what my relationship really was, but The Wedding totally eclipsed that, and instead, terrified me.

    I must say, though, that this whole post is awesome, and because K left us danging with the simple detail that *he* left, I am now riveted, as I would be if I were reading a really exciting novel. I can't wait for the next installment.

  35. Imagine loving someone but still needing to end it. That's the really hard place to be in.

  36. I've been divorced for twenty damn years and that was frightening because I felt it.

  37. Another interesting post, as usual, K!

    I stayed in my second marriage long enough to go into couples' therapy. The eye opener was when we discussed his alcoholism, which was just one of several issues in a marriage that shouldn't have happened. The counselor listened to my discussion of the quantity, frequency and circumstances of his drinking. Then she cut me off and turned to him, asking, "Do you have a problem with your drinking?"

    He thought, then said, "Nope."

    She said, "Then you don't have a problem." And she turned to me. "YOU have a problem."

    It was like a lightbulb went on for me. Of course, my (soon-to-be-ex) husband took this as validation that I had only imagined his alcoholism. I took it for how the counselor meant it -- his drinking didn't bother him, so for HIM, it wasn't a problem and would not ever be seriously addressed until he saw it as such. It bothered me, so for ME, it was a problem. My decision was clear: Did I want to be married to him, as he is, or not? Talk about an illuminating moment.

    Afterward, he refused to go back for more counseling that he "didn't need." When I went alone, I explained how I'd understood the counselor's message and then added, "It's become clear to me that I don't want to be married to him anymore."

    She snorted. "I can't imagine why the two of you even dated."

    Thanks for sharing your illuminating moment, K.

  38. Wow. Just being on-the-verge of engagement, myself, is a really scary prospect. I will have been living with my boyfriend for two years in June and i'm not sure how marriage will be for us, even after this time of living together.

    K, this post scared the crap out of me. Mostly because i see myself in some of your thoughts and fears here. I love my boyfriend very much, but the thought of 'this is how it is going to be for the rest of my life' is terrifying.

    I can't wait to read the next post to see how it all went down.

  39. just discovered your blog. I have to tell you right off how much I admire your honesty. It is one of the hardest things to admit that something as huge as a marriage isn't the right fit. You give us all a lot to think about.

  40. I ended a four-year relationshiop on what turned out to be the day before he was going to propose to me. In the nick of time, as they say. But, for the same reasons. I saw this life ahead of me full of things exactly the way he wanted them, doing things the way his family had always done them, living a life for other people, having things because it looked good to have them. And it disgusted me.

  41. My life in a nutshell. Thank you for making me feel like I am not alone. You brought tears to my eyes though because I am living this now, and it is hard and scary and lonely - but I know in the end it will be better. Thanks!

  42. Love your honest writing, K! Thank you for sharing such an important part of your life and history with us readers.

  43. This is excellent writing K, and I’m not just saying that because it involves shoes. I had some horrific relationships in college (ok, well 2 really bad and 1 truly gruesome) and all 3 guys got very serious about the relationship in under a year, 2 even proposed and for some reason I said “yes”. But I don’t really consider myself to have ever been engaged because 1) No jewelry was involved 2) No wedding plans were ever made. They were really “pretend” engagements. After I realized the disaster I was about to make of my life I moved on to the next disaster. To be fair I never made the same mistake twice, they were all very wrong for me in very different ways. Thank god I got that out of my system at an early age!

  44. Frankly -

    It seems to me that you are settling for boredom. When it comes to life it's not about what you go through but how you handle what comes at you.

    No one gets along with their in laws and you don't have to make them a factor in your marriage/divorce. That's just wrong. You don't talk much about your husband himself here either.

    The problem isn't your husband- THE PROBLEM IS YOU! You seem to have a wishy washy attitude. If you don't tell someone there is a problem- they won't know there is a problem. You have to be truthful- healthy marriages are a result of being truthful.

    Also it seems that you are bored because you don't know what you want? Or you are not fully pursuing what you really want.You have a passion for writing so why don't you pursue writing? Why don't you contact publishers and work on writing projects? Why don't you expand your horizons? Why don't you write down a list of every goal you want to achieve in your life and pursue it? 2 years ago that's what I did and I've achieved many of those things I listed including winning a national award and starting my own nonprofit organization and being featured in a national magazine this past Fall.

    Face your husband and face yourself. Tell him what you think about life. Be a strong woman - Speak your mind. See what happens from there. And if you don't show the enthusiasm and energy to be the best you can be--how can you expect that from those around you? Do you expect Prince Charming to sweep you off your feet to a perfect marriage?

  45. This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

  46. Anon @ 2:59

    I'm not sure K needs this advice 5 years after her divorce.

  47. Serrephim - Ahahahahaha!

  48. Does getting a divorce and hooking up with a wanna be comedian who is funny-ish make her life better? I don't really care to comment. As anon @ 2:59 I'd like to say--this was my first time on this blog and i don't know this woman's history but I guess I will no longer grace you people with my presence. ta ta

  49. anonymous 2:59:

    your original comment was haughty and presumptuous.

    your follow-up was even more so.

    it is YOU who have distilled my life down to "hooking up with a wanna be comedian," not i. i do not measure my life by who i am currently dating, five years after my divorce. why do you? i'm afraid your perception speaks more of you than of me.

  50. hey - sorry for hurting your feelings...i was just bored at work and didn't read everything thoroughly when i wrote my responses. anyway i just found the blog boring ... the first thing i read in your blog was about some firemen incident... anyway it's not like i'm asking you to make the blog entertaining but DO SOMETHING DIFFERENT with your life other than yadda yadda about how much this and that sucks and go out there and do something.

    ~Anon 2:59

  51. and if people give you constructive criticism you don't need to get all defensive.

  52. anon, you didn't hurt my feelings. you came here, read one post, and presumed to tell me how to live my life, which i find annoying and misguided. you both missed the point of the post and the blog. these entries are retrospectives. they are what inspired me to go out and do something (different) with my life. which i have done*.

    and i'm actually happy now.

    whereas you...? well, you seem rather bilious. i mean, for someone as self-assured and pleased with themselves as you purport to be, i find it fascinating that you spend your time reading a blog you find boring, AND going so far as to comment on it. repeatedly. don't you have more important things to be doing?

    *i was going to refrain from outlining what those changes/things were and are, because that's petty. however, i do also find it somewhat stunning that someone would come to my blog -- one with, you know, a few hundred entries -- and tell me i need to work on speaking my mind.

  53. [re-sending; my original posting didn't come through]

    K, you seem to have a little smear of Anon 2:59 on your comments section. Here's a tissue.

    *wipe, wipe, wipe ... flush*

    There now, all better. ;o)

  54. Hey Kristy - One of my favorite posts ever. Concur with all the claustrophobia comments as well. Someone earlier asked about having to leave someone ever though you were in love with them? That was me, two months before my wedding due to the claustrophobia thing. So so hard. I love and miss him still, but I am a much more whole now. Thank you Kristy, your eloquence is unmatched in the blogosphere.

    Also, whether or not Kristy is boring is a matter of opinion. I come back here every day because I find that she's not.

  55. K,

    I generally only comment when I have something different or new to add to the discussion. However, a friend of mine always complains about how he writes these immense, soul-searching entries and gets no comments, while a cheap one-liner gets a million, and then he gets discouraged and doesn't write another meaningful entry for a long time.

    So, I'm breaking my own rule to tell you that this entry was just plain beautiful. I've never been in this situation (at least not in one where I was married, or even living with the person), but I did feel the emotions, and even though it wasn't a pleasant topic, I enjoyed reading it. Please keep these up!

    And for the record, I do not find you boring. Sure, I read your blog when I am bored at work. I also read it when I am definitely NOT bored at work. I make time to check your blog from work every single day, even if I am insanely busy, and sometimes on the weekends. You are a joy, and I am so glad I found your blog! :)

  56. Great entry. I am considering marriage in the somewhat near future, there's just the one thing that bothers me .... if the shoes fit perfectly now, how can I be sure they're still going to fit 50+ years from now. Surely my feet aren't going to be the same when I'm 80 as they are now. To me, the lifetime commitment of marriage is extremely scary.

  57. I appreciate the warm responses to my comments...= \

    I hadn't known earlier that your blog entries were retrospectives when I wrote my original comments. I think you don't understand where I am coming from--sarcasm aside and whatever else I said---I am not haughty but it is just that your blog (which I encountered accidently) just made me upset and I felt compelled to write something ..Why? You have to understand my perspective: I left my homeland as a refugee to come to America with only my mother and siblings, learned english, struggled all my life and I definitely don't see myself as accomplished- I was trying to be motivating and wanted to tell you that it could be done- having had to deal with so much in my life and working hard all my life I just have always tried to stay positive and motivate others. That's why when I see people worry about such simple things it just makes me upset --- why waste time with such inconsequential things and be passive? Well I realize that you did do something with your life and that is a good thing but the message I was trying to give is that hey - you are doing something but what more can you do? I'm not trying to show off. If I was trying to show off I would not be anonymous.

    " Obstacles cannot crush me. Every obstacle yields to stern resolve. He who is fixed to a star does not change his mind."
    Leonardo da Vinci

    Anon 2:59

  58. I'm sure there's a good reason why Anon 2:59 remains anonymous. A lot of people will say nasty things, and remain anonymous, in order to not take responsibility, and believe they are clever and got away with something. Poo on them.

    I just wanted to say welcome back to the phenomenal writing that I've missed...and I think you are incredibly brave, and I admire your growth as a person.

  59. I like to picture you wearing only shoes, yup, works for me...

  60. That is an excellent analogy! Good for you for recognizing your situation didn't suit you and for having the courage to change it. You seem to be very happy now!

  61. Hi K,

    I enjoyed reading this post. I have been married for 32 years and have never regretted a single day of it. But I could still understand exactly how you felt, not because I've been but because you are a good writer.

    I enjoyed reading the comments as well... except for anon 2:59. Even when He/She posted an apology of sorts (or maybe it was just an explanation) it upset me. Either anon 2:59 is not able to express themselves adequately or they are just a pair of shoes that are never going to fit me (and are ugly too). I guess that would be like if someone came to your house and made you wear a pair of shoes you never would have tried on in a million years and they didn't fit. You throw them out but for some reason they just keep showing up in your closet.

    At any rate, thank you for your blog.

    I don't read your blog regularly... Did I miss a post where you told about how he left.


  62. P.S. I hate that I can't go back and fix my typos, if your not too busy shoe shopping... would you mind?

  63. You just might inspire me to blog my own "divorce nightmare"---but I think I need more counseling first. he he.
    Thanks for the read.

  64. The shoe analogy is is so true. Thanks for your story - I admire your courage.

  65. Wow. I did the exact same thing. I settled on a so so pair of shoes. Had two children and then realized the shoes were never going to fit. I have been divorced for almost a year now and never been happier. Thanks for that.

  66. Holla sista!!!!

    I loved the shoe analogy (I think I will have to reuse that one)

    Also you could have been drinking martinis all day 'stead of Home depoting with mom in law (actually home depoting might have been better if you HAD had a few martinis preshopping).

  67. It appears it has been about a year and a half since the last post, but I'm reading all this b/c I just submitted my prom pic and somehow found myself sucked in.

    Everyone has already said better things than I can come up with, certainly more compassionate. I want you to know, though, I have always hated vacationing. I would rather stay home. I have always had a panicky feeling I'm doing something wrong and have some deficiency. Your metaphor about a shoe that just won't fit, however, is incredibly validating. I just don't like going places and doing things.

    My wife will not be happy to hear this, because we have a low-grade, chronic war going on about vacation. Thanks, though. at least from me.

  68. I follow you on twitter but embarrassingly admit that I've never read your blog until now and have spent probably 45 minutes of my Friday night reading. You are an excellent writer. Seriously. I wish I had your skills. I have nothing of substance really to add to this I just wanted to share and say I enjoy. 'tis all.


  69. Love your blog and am just starting to read the history. NOte: You wrote this on my birthday 4 years ago...it was the day I decided something had to change (I was turning 30) and I embarked a crazy sometime narcissistic trip that has gotten me, well, here.

  70. I can just imagine how hard and awkward those scenarios were. What you have gone through was difficult, and I admire you for your strength throughout that period. We all want to live the life we dreamed of, and most of the time, that matters the most. :)

  71. I want to share a very wonderful testimony about Dr.Samur the spell caster who help me get my ex back when he left me for another lady, i contacted so many spell caster but non could help me bring him back until i contacted Dr.Samur and explain everything to him, he told me not to worry cause i am going to get him back in 3 days with love-spell, power of his gods and forefathers, i trusted in him and did everything he ask me to do, i hopefully wait for the result to my greatest surprise my ex called me and apologize for the pains he has cause me,now we are both happy together and even more in love than before, if you are out there and you are looking for a solution to any problem kindly contact Dr.Samur through his email address on: drsamuraspellcaster@hotmail.com


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