In Praise of Dating Younger Men

In my first season post divorce and a very difficult un-fun year of my life, I find myself choosing with intention to date younger men.  I just turned 40 a few days ago.  Okay, a few weeks ago.  FINE, a few months ago.  November 25th.

 One of my first dates was with a 30 year old, and most recently, a 32 year old.  I have become really clear that this is the season for me to do precisely this.  I feel like avoiding any middle age man who dons the "cloak of divorce".  I cancelled a first date last week with a very nice man my age who shares my faith but spoke negatively of his ex-wife in our first and very brief phone call to set up the date. I actually lost some sleep over it and phoned him the next day to report my discomfort of the heaviness of the prior call and I cancelled.  I feel empathy for men ~ so much pressure to lead and take initiative with women with constant risk of rejection.  I can't imagine how scary it is.  This man did all the right things to initiate and follow through.  He was not the first man to raise the pink and orange flags of trying to bond over demonizing a former spouse. I know from the affair I suffered through that some women fall hook, line and sinker for this method of bonding -  but to me wreaks of lack of responsibility taking and is a turn off.  My time is so precious to me as is the nature of how I was hurt in my divorce, that I can't be with one who utters a single negative word about his former wife, mother of his children.  So I cancelled and went to the SLC temple solo ~ initiatories ~ and paced the spring gardens in silence and contemplation among the tulips.


Furthermore, my children....are having difficulty wrapping their minds and hearts around the concept of a blended family with another man's children.  That will likely shift...  but for now, 'tis the season to date younger men with no divorce baggage and no kiddos.  Sofar nothing remotely serious has transpired, although a few hints at exclusivity happened once after a first date.  Flattered but I was not in that place.  I'm of the thinking of "Let's pretend this is not an impossible situation where you would want to combine lives with a woman with five children or where I would want that for you".  I want to attend ball games, sleep in the desert, tailgate with takeout, feel like a teen again...without the responsibility of real life for a while...  Yes, this is what I want for just a few minutes.  I still haven't really REALLY been kissed yet.  I'm glad. I guess I am holding out for the right time, man and place.  Not really sending any signals... maybe I'm not good at sending signals yet.  Note to self...work on sending kissing signals... These men are cute.  No, they are stinking handsome and I'm actually really excited that they're finding me.  I still got it!  Kinda... maybe. Most of them have expressed integrity around dating me.

I think I need a Microderm abrasion, though,  to peel off about 18 layers of my face from the stress that I have absorbed the last year so I look like I could pass for their age bracket.

It's been entirely innocent.  Lots of flirty texting.  I am a writer after all, so I'm enjoying the form of texting communication that accompanies younger men.

I am NOT used to or interested in sexting...this deserves a blog piece all its own... I'm interested in social research on the matter and why people would do this.  There also needs to be a phrase for this recreational activity that is something to the effect of "I did not inhale".  I'm finding even observing and being on the surprising receiving end of this activity oft used by younger men in direct conflict with my religious and moral values.  Younger men definitely trip and push comfort zones and buttons.  I flip flop between totally blowing someone off who does this and hanging in there patiently to see if something shifts.  I like the unpredictability but at the moment, I'm totally confused.

I just came across this article, In Praise of Younger Men - O Magazine and felt it deserved some plugging.  I could relate to a few things in here.

Ciao!

Bone Marrow Pate or Beef Butter

The day I made Bone Marrow Pate, was a day I could rejoice that the medicine I was using to restore the effects of blood loss from a Red Cross donation was a day I could actually blend beef bone marrow into one of my favorite things in the world, BUTTER!  Because I am not an intentional food blogger, I wanted to give you a link to someone who did it right ~  MommyPotamus.com 's idea of using rosemary decorating mashed potatoes with it... she's a genius and I bow to her.

A great deal of my kitchen items are on loan in Vermont until spring so I am making due with more manual aspects of culinary endeavors.  As a result, mine did not resemble butter or even an appropriate  pate as it really requires a mixer to accomplish well.  But I hand blended it and it still tasted amazing - it just wasn't as pretty as it could have been.  My goal on this was food as medicine, so that was accomplished. Next goal, medicine and aestietic appeal.

Whole Foods only sells marrow bones in bulk bags of six.  My intention was to make a kettle of broth from a couple of the bones.  Someone in the grocery checkout suggested I make a pate out of the bones, so I did both!

The first thing I did was toss two bones into my cast iron kettle full of water with celery, carrots, a purple onion and beef bouillon.  Adding apple cider vinegar helps bring the minerals out of the bones and into the broth.  Apple cider vinegar pretty much deserves its own medicinal use page.  I consume it copiously in as many ways as I can find.  But pretty much involves just a spoon and my mouth.  

Oh my heck, yes that's a steak knife I'm slicing veggies with.  A really dull one. 

I tossed in some parsley. Parsley is used as medicine for kidney and liver strengthening, prostate health, and intestinal ease.  It's a good one for soups and broths.  My mother always used the dried.  I went for the fresh this time.  Isn't it purdy?  I felt healthy just having this all in my hands. Being mid-winter and the middle of ski racing season, I've been feeling a bit short in delivering the fresh veggies to my family.

I brought it to a boil and then simmered for 2-3 hours.  That was the broth.  No photos exist because I had to quickly depart for other activities.  Skim the crud from the bones off the top and you have a broth that is really nourishing. I ate it plain and served it over Jasmine rice.  I felt re-energized within minutes of the first bowl.  I had it for breakfast the next morning.  And lunch.  Energy restored.  it really works.  Or just a placebo.  You decide.  It might not be as pretty as those Mormon casseroles, but it's probably a wise dish to serve a neighbor who is ill or recovering. 

With the remaining bones I tossed them on a tarnished cookie sheet (this is one of the reasons why I'm not a professional food blogger) and fired them up in the oven at 375 for 15 minutes.  I think next time I'd go to a 425 for 15 minutes.  I think the marrow consistency would be more appealing and easier to blend if it was heated at a higher temp.

This looks really nasty, I know. I had to show you what the cooked marrow actually looks like,though. 

Upon taking them out of the oven, the marrow resembles a gel and can be scraped out of the bone into a mixing bowl.  With the marrow warm, I added purple onion, cilantro, sea salt and olive oil and blended.  Looked a little funny and clumpy but tasted amazing over crackers and bread.  I'm scheming for doing the butter-laden-beef-butter with rosemary next time over potatoes.

Ciao!



















Here are a couple of my favorite images of how other people across the world wide web served out their marrow bone pate/butter.  Mine resembled the naughtiness served directly in the bone or on toast.

Too much of this could probably take your cholesterol over the top, but is cholesterol actually bad for you?  It's actually the body's manner of speeding healing.  It's an indicator of inflammation and probably indicative of some other underlying issue that needs resolving.  Pregnant women's cholesterol can be through the roof then usually resolves after pregnancy.

Bone marrow has fats in it that are super helpful to the body and brain!

Ciao!

Whole Foods Bones and Death Star

I donated blood for the first time the other day.  I've always wanted to do it, but wasn't quite sure what was involved.   I felt it was time that I donated a part of my healthy body to those who need it more than me.  I can make more.  Some people can't.

They took a pint.  One pint is equal to two cups.  More blood loss than this in childbirth and midwives consider it a hemorrhage and are breaking out the life-saving medicines.  Donating blood is a significant act on our bodies.  As I waited for the procedure to begin and asked how much they would be taking, I realized I had not eaten much that day and started to get a little nervous about how my 5'3" 115 lb frame would handle the loss.  I spaced eating.  What a dummy!  I probably nibbled here and there leftovers from my toddler or other children but it was just a busy day where I had neglected to eat well.

Well nourished women can withstand a normal blood loss of about a pint in childbirth and go on as if nothing happened.  Slightly anemic women with busy homes and other children to care for often take weeks to feel normal after blood loss in childbirth.  The Red Cross requires about 8 weeks spacing between donations to allow the body to recover.  This is almost as long as midwives treat the postpartum period and how long most surgeries take to recover from.

I am a total and utter morning person, but I woke up the next morning (12 hours after donating blood) feeling like I could sleep for days.  I begged my smallish children to let me sleep for a few extra minutes.  No dice.

I decided to give myself the standard midwife prescription that we ask mothers to prepare after giving birth to speed recovery.

Bone Marrow.

I dragged myself into Whole Paycheck - I mean, Whole Foods - and grabbed a bag of Marrow Bones and some veggies to make a nourishing broth.  Here is one of my favorite funny clips about Whole Foods to get you in the mood:

As I navigate the murky waters of divorce and feel generally balanced, happy, accepting and ready for a new future, my blood shortage took me physically and emotionally a step or two backward where I found a return to my personal divorce-survival rule of not making eye contact with anyone in public lest a conversation or human interaction start.

I give off the "DON'T APPROACH ME, I'M AN INTROVERT" vibe really well.  It's getting harder and harder to pull this off as I feel more and more healed and ready to step out socially.  But my depleted blood state tossed me right back into that "safer" isolated emotional place today in public.  Implement: No Eye Contact (NEC). A DEFCON 5 day. 

As I loaded my bounty onto the belt in the check out line, an older gentleman behind me broke through my DEFCON 5 and said,

"What are you using those marrow bones for?"

 The voice inside my head said, "Mr., You seem really nice and harmless and all but I have not given you eye contact and therefore not given you permission to acknowledge my existence, are you really talking to me? CAN'T YOU SEE THIS DEATH STAR IS AT A DEFCON 5?!?" 

I was polite and divulged to him that I donated blood for the first time and it kinda took the wind out of my sails and hoped a soup with bones would do the trick.

He pressed in asking me questions about how I planned to prepare the Bone Marrow and had I considered making a spread, and did I know gourmet restaurants charge $30 an ounce for a pate that I could easily make at home with my bag of bones, etc?

I was more shocked at why he bothered to ignore my OBVIOUS DEFCON 5 that I was intrigued and listening to what he had to say.  He had immediate credibility.

Maybe I'm not doing a good job with the DEFCON system when I'm feeling anti-social.  Maybe he used The Force on this Death Star.

In all actuality, the work on vulnerability I'm doing in area of Brene Brown is showing outwardly.  After donating blood, and feeling empty and lethargic, I had four irritating hours strait of Brene Brown between a workshop and my monthly book club.  Between losing half of my blood volume and feeling drained from self-reflection, my Death Star defenses are rendered useless.  Gone.  Gonzo.  Not a chance of coming back, especially walking around short of a pint of blood.

Whether I like it or not, strangers are talking to me - in the grocery store, at the gas pump - and I'm responding and ready to have human connection.  Maybe wholeheartedly and consistently for the first time in a long time.  It's good!  Because what came out of it yesterday is a new and quirky pate to try and share with you and a feeling of connectivity with another human being that I will never see again.

I smiled and relaxed as I thought of trying a gross pate made out of marrow, feeling it work in my body and telling you all about it.

Because I was already through checkout, I loaded groceries in the car then returned into produce for the herbs he suggested.  Walking around a pint short of blood started to feel better just from a little human connection that I fought and resisted going in there.

I'll post the Bone Marrow Pate separately.

Ciao!

Dating Land Mines and Bizarro

I am concurrently reading two Brene Brown books Daring Greatly  and I thought it was just me ~ but it isn't.   Brene Brown has her PhD in the areas of shame and vulnerability.  One I am reading for a women's book club I'm in, and the other is for a 10 week "vulnerability class" I'm taking.  Being Mormon and not holding my marriage and family together,  I am working through a ton of shame. And if I want to embark on a new relationship I have to put all the hurt behind me, tear down any remnants of walls around my heart and be utterly vulnerable to a man. The end of this article looks at the Latin origins of the word VULNERABLE and it turns out, that we've gotten the word Vulnerability wrong all this time in our language!  No wonder we fail at finding and keeping love! 

 I'm a strong woman capable of living on my own.  I enjoy it.  One of the most frequent comments aside from what a beautiful family I have is "you are so brave and strong".  I've educated five children completely at home and helped them become accomplished athletes.  I am also licensed to deliver babies born at home.

When my former husband had a public and humiliating affair, I took the children and a U-Haul trailer 2000 miles to Utah to give everyone some space (and maybe run from my problems).  This takes a fair amount of strength and resilience.  But if I really hear the feedback coming out of my marriage as it dies,  maybe I lost my marriage and family in the process of being strong.  Maybe I need to tease out and hold onto the resilience piece and abandon some of the strong piece.  They are not quite the same.  I'm exploring the ways that these maternal strengths may have hindered me in intimacy.  The former husband has actually described me as pushing him away.  I've got to take a look at this.


I have not yet begun round two of dating.  I'm not sure what is holding me up.  All I'm clear on is that it is not quite time to step back out there.  To recap, in December and January I had four dates with four men.  One culminating into a late night meet the following evening to exchange baked goods before Christmas and and maybe go in for that quick kiss we avoided on the first date.  I guess it was like a mini "re-do" on ending the first date.  This is my first foray into dating Mormons (I converted to the faith after my marriage so I've technically never dated a Mormon man before).  Our kiss was textbook Mormon-esque.  Just a peck.  Maybe two... or three....  Lips firmly closed... No big deal, right?  Sure, except I parted thinking about it so much that I drove about a quarter mile home in the dark with my headlights turned off.

It left me feeling like..."Yep! There is something to the Mormon business of chastity."  I'm excited to parent teens embarking on dating having experienced both avenues of dating.   One can experience a simple kiss and have it consume your thoughts as much or more as if it had been way over the top involved.

But this article is more about the multitude of ways that many of us push others away in intimacy. This man turned into Caspar the Ghost just days following the intense encounter - either due to total lack of interest or due to his integrity and understanding that my marriage was not legally terminated yet.  I'd like to think the latter, but in reality, it's probably the former.  I like to live in denial that maybe he's just encased in cement in Jabba the Hut's lair like Han Solo.  Or maybe in dating he carefully constructs a mine field that no one can pass and come too close.

After all, who wouldn't want to just leap into life with a woman with FIVE kids including a toddler, whose divorce isn't quite finalized?  In some of the craziest moments inside my home where we've had several consecutive days of sports, the house looks like Bali after the tsunami and my toddler is in his season of screaming, I'll say to one of my married girlfriends, "Who wouldn't want to partake in all of this?!?"  "Take care of your marriages, ladies!!"  I'll say in a group text.

I'll review here some of the microscopic but significant things that went down to self-sabotage the endeavor before it even got off the ground.  Because next time around, I'd like to not lay a mine field  between the next great man and my heart ~ nor do I care to step along his carefully laid booby-traps, land mines and barbed wire on the path to his heart.

I'd like to be vulnerable and be a magnet for someone equally as sophisticated in the art of vulnerability.  If I lay land mines, I'll consequently attract someone who also lives in his own sabotaging minefields.

Let me share with you some of the detonated WWII-type mines I carefully placed.

1.  I might or might not have said more than once in person and via text "I imagine it will take me at least  2 or 3 years to find a committed relationship with someone." 

2. "I have to get my toddler out of diapers before I find a committed relationship."  Yep, I actually said that out loud.

3. My personal favorite commitment-phobe self-sabotage remark... "I can't imagine folding a man into my crazy life anytime soon."  

Now I've given up trucker talk unless I have a lapse and feel really emotional.  (Last week, I watched "the other woman" change her Facebook cover photo to her wearing my clothes and snuggling with my dogs.  So I may have used some expletives that day and if I were still Catholic, would be sitting in a booth with a priest.  Mormons just privately repent over and over and over and over...again.  I also scheduled counseling for some coping tools.)

But I just re-read #1-3 of what I typed - that which I actually said on my date.  And maybe via text - not to the men I didn't expect to see again...BUT TO THE MAN I DEFINITELY WANTED TO SEE A LOT MORE OF.  And I'm now saying... WTF?



I have issues.  I need an intervention.  I must morph into that DC Character, BIZARRO (click here for a reminder) where, when stakes are high, I communicate directly the opposite of what might actually be rolling through my brain requiring a translation.  I loved those episodes of Superman when Bizarro showed up.  Now I understand why.

Wait! It gets better!  If you subscribe to the notion that like attracts like, I may have attracted someone who does the same exact thing in regards to self-sabotage!  Here are a few mines he laid out for me to fall on....

1.  As he chose to extend the first date by an hour or so and talk...He says "I think I'm planning on traveling for an extended period to Europe sometime in the next year or so and maybe live there for a while."   In my mind I said "AWESOME! So why did we make this first date go longer and why does your online profile suggest you are interested in marriage?"  What came out of my mouth was a total support for this plan and suggestions he get a Eurail pass.

2. and 3. and 4 and 5.  all kind of go together and are paraphrased "I'm still wounded from my last long term relationship and am looking for just friendship.  We should go camping sometime. How far do you think we can get if we spend the night together?  I don't have physical relations before marriage. I want to get married sooner not later and you can't move fast enough for me as you are just coming out of your marriage.".

Again, a "WTF" moment in time and space.  With this, I'm like...OK enough confusing messages here that maybe it's just me, my crazy life, and he's obviously not remotely interested in exploring it further.  Or he's suffering from the same plague I have living on the square planet Bizarro occupies.

Either way, this is definitely NOT going to work.  Not at all!

I am learning that for me, I morph onto BIZARRO when I feel most vulnerable.  If one looks at the definition our culture gives to the word VULNERABLE...we associate it with" weak, impotent, open for attack, powerless".  No wonder strong alpha men don't want anything to do with that!

But if we consider the actual root meaning of the word and it's origins in ancient history....it originates from Latin BATTLE language and most closely means "open to attack", "difficult to defend" "bridge".  Even the most highly guarded defendable fortresses in medieval society had to have an entrance for food and survival.  Now this is the kind of vulnerability - just a footbridge toward my heart -  I can live with in search of love.  I imagine when we pick apart the word VULNERABLE in military terms this way, some men would see being vulnerable not as weakness, but a necessary part of the war of finding love as well.

When Bizarro shows up on my dates, that's probably a clue that I really like someone, but also a CUE for me to just STOP talking.  A little silence never hurt anyone.  But ultimately, Bizarro needs to understand that although he means well by protecting my heart, he's no longer invited to the party.

{Other clues I am pushing a man away...talking incessantly about my gluten-intolerance. That should be reserved for my closest friends who already love me unconditionally.}

Ciao!