Dystopian Dreams: Sunday Full of Grace

I woke up this morning having had a fully formed Dystopian movie played out in my dreams. One of the major takeaways was that, like any true Dystopian world, there were very strict and rigid rules about how one was expected to live their lives. People were expected to marry in pre-arranged pairings that the society made seem like “true love,” for one thing. People were allowed to dress how they liked, but the were strongly encouraged to follow the fashion guidelines police. Like dreams go, I didn’t hang on to much of it because I was super groggy when I woke up. The main captivating thing from the dream was the high design of the world, down to the ornate bathroom stalls (yes, this is when I woke up, alarm bells in my subconscious were ringing) and public spaces. The design of the world was amazing, and the fashion, while very late 90’s, was spectacular. One couple, on their debut evening as an arranged, engaged couple, shockingly hit it off immediately. One of them said to his parents, “I am so in love! I am in LOVE!”

I was watching 90s movies before I went to sleep. But still.


Relationships feel like my Achilles heel right now. I guess that having an arranged marriage would be a relief, or maybe my subconscious thinks so. I feel like the fact that I was with my kids’ dad for 26 years is a fluke and I’m destined to be alone forever. The more I’m alone the more I fear that it’s going to make me anti-social and grizzled. I fear that somehow I’ll forget how to compromise while also being true to myself, and I’ll be impossible to love and to live with.

I chose to break it off with the person I was seeing. They were perfectly nice and kind, but I was starting to feel not right about it. I KNOW that’s what dating is meant for, and I’m mostly okay with it. We only dated for a month. It’s nice to be just me. But it also sucks because I’m genuinely afraid I’ll become a spinster weirdo yelling at neighborhood kids or alley cats.

I went to a country concert tonight. This is something I did a lot with Tom. I thought I’d be fine, this is a band we didn’t talk about or see together. But it still got to me, and their damn (very good) songs are super triggering. So I’m home feeling shitty and alone and trying to just hang on to one shred of dignity by not making a fool out of myself.

While getting my ID tag to buy beer the ID enforcer said (rudely) when I handed him my ID, “Ok, I guess I’ll look at it.” Then said “I guess you’ve got the big one coming next year.” I said, “I’m still 48 for a few more weeks.” He proceeded to say his big 7-0 was coming up. I didn’t miss a beat. “YEAH, that’s how old MY MOM IS.” He deserved it, and I told him so.

I have this bullshit, ill-informed, social norm, stupid, cisgender, mainstream fucked up way of believing in what I should be am doing at 48. I know that there is nothing wrong with where I am, and who I am, and with the choices I’ve made. But I judge the hell out of myself so much of every day, and then have to rewind the tape and re-record it so it doesn’t become part of me.

It is so hard sometimes to sit in my full shitstorm/joyful chorus life and know that I’m here for all of it, no matter what.

That’s what happens when you choose yourself and your authentic life.

I’m here for the tears that come when I hear a song about how love ends. I’m here for the story of the family with a daughter about to go into 3rd grade sitting to the left of me at the show. They were visiting family for two weeks but are from El Paso, and they told me about how they experienced the recent gun violence there. She had gotten violently ill that night out of nowhere, so they didn’t go to Walmart to go shopping. They took a nap and woke up to the news stories. I touched her arm and tried not to burst into tears.

I’m here for the story of the family to the right of me. A girl starting college in Dillon in a few weeks, destined to be a teacher. She brought her Grandpa to the show (!) and they drove all the way from Livingston to see it. They were adorable. I’m here for the crazyinlove couple in their 60’s in front of me, newly together and all handsy over each other in love. I loved watching her dance with wild abandon, not caring, and how much he loved her for being herself.

I’m here to just let myself be myself completely. And that’s why I stopped dating who I was dating. It wasn’t their fault, but some stuff came up for me that wasn’t mine, and I was feeling yucky about some parts of myself. So with respect and kindness, I said goodbye.

I just have no experience actually dating. All of my dating has ended up as long term relationships until now, and that’s a really new concept for me. It would be so much easier to be just alone. But I know in my guts that’s not what I’m supposed to do. When I’m brave enough to venture out again, I will. Until then, it’s me and my insanely growing menagerie of pets.

NO. I am not the “Crazy Cat Lady.” I hate that whole trope, anyway. So what if I was? Nothing wrong with a few cats.


This is one of my favorite songs of Old Dominion’s.

Here’s me, rocking an Old Dominion concert while wearing my Macklemore concert t-shirt, which no one realizes is a Macklemore shirt. Everyone thinks I’m a Gemini. LOL.

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