What do You Call IT?

IT is not an arbitrary quest. IT is not something I came upon lightly. IT is my level-setting and IT has a name. IT is called a reset of my inner compass.

I started reading this amazing book about a week ago and I found myself reflecting on all the errors I have recently made with my personal life. Not detrimental ones mind you, but simply things that are deterring me from my true path. I won't divulge the name of the book here, because unless you are a woman and newly single, you may scoff at it a bit. With that said, if you ARE in fact female, dating, and finding it a tad frustrating, please let me know and I will happily share.

The book deals mostly with the decisions we make and the reasons behind them. It provides great and simple clarity around why we succumb to temptation and how to avoid those that don't lead us to the highest and greater good. While there are several portions that resonated with me, there was one in particular that hit home. Hard. Like bricks.

Allow me a bit of paraphrasing please..."What you're missing is an inner compass when it comes to people: a reference point for how you live that you don't violate, no matter what."

"Your inner compass should contain all of the information you need in order to make a good dating judgment call. That way, you don't give away your heart, soul, and body to the wrong sort of person, setting yourself up for emotional devastation."

"...set that compass on due north."

Ah yes, it is so much simpler to just give into the nonsense that guided the dating of my 20s. For good or bad, I am no longer in that generation or in that mindset. So, consider this a proper reset. A positioning of my inner compass, and pointed straight to the North Star. If you happen to come upon me, be prepared, because I certainly am.

What Am I?

I had a realization shortly after the Christmas holiday where I had to do some level-setting. At the time I didn't know what to properly "call it", but we'll get back to that momentarily.

I will finally openly acknowledge that I had recently started dating and had found it both exciting and terribly challenging. Seriously, I had not been on a date with someone in about 17 years. So being me, I jumped into pseudo-relationships with a couple men in the hopes of figuring it out. While delightful, I was soon to discover the limitations.

Let's set the stage. There I was...standing at RDU with massive amounts of holiday luggage. One bag was filled almost entirely with meat. Yes, I said meat. My parents gifted all of us children with a fabulous assortment of pork chops, pork roasts and sausage. (My dad won a pig in a raffle.) I was also granted a couple random packages of rib-eye and ground beef. (My parents bought a quarter of a cow.) That's how we do it in Wisconsin. Add some incredible canned salsa from my sister-in-law and some bottles of wine, and I had some crazy TSA- monitored baggage. But I regress.

There I stood, hauling heavy freaking bags off the conveyor belt by myself. Then I drove myself home. Once home, all the boys started calling. I had a pseudo-boyfriend, a man patiently waiting in the wings, and a husband. (A husband I might add that I adore immensely and remain fabulous friends with.) And so goes my epiphany. I HAVE ALL THESE DAMN MEN IN MY LIFE and I am still dragging my own meat home. We're calling this done. Something is going to change, and change NOW.

So what am I? For months, Facebook has deemed me "complicated", match.com calls me "currently separated", eharmony.com says I am "ineligible", and in the eyes of God, numerous friends and family, and the state of North Carolina, I am "married". So who is right?

I am right.

I am single. I am recovering. I am healthy. I am independent. I am self-aware. I am confident. I am smart. I am strong. I am fabulous. I am a lover of relationships. I am also...I am also deserving of a man that wants and will be there to carry my meat.

That is who I am.

Ring it In. Ring it In.

Ah, the end. The end of the year known as 2009. The end of the year my life flipped itself upside down and I somehow ended somewhat right-side up again. The end of the year I became stronger, thinner, wiser, sadder, and certainly more certain. Certain of what I want, need, and how to get it.

A dear man in my life often reminds me that there is truthfully no difference in the days of 12/31 and 1/1. No great momentous thing happens that should cause me to think or act differently from one to the next. Since both paper and principle dictate that he is smarter than me, I am often prone to agreeing with him. Just not this time.

The flipping over of the year may be purely symbolic, but that alone marks its power. My spinning instructor this afternoon said, "What you are doing on the first day of the year, will represent what you do all year long". Well, then my 2010 should be quite grand. Perhaps the people will be different at some point, but the concepts should remain the same.

I am ending this first day of what will be a good and glorious year...with smart, sexy, and snappy dialogue set against a kick-ass soundtrack. Not my soundtrack...but that of Tarantino and Pulp Fiction. Let it be a sign that IFC knows me well enough to provide all that needs to be symbolic in my time of need.

"Warm, warm...disco." Happy ending 2009. Ring a ding-ding.