Chapter One

Six months ago I was laying on an air mattress in San Antonio, Texas, counting how many breakups I'd had in my life. I think I counted 22. And then, because I like thinking about painful things when I should be sleeping, I counted how many times I'd been dumped and/or experienced distinct emotional rejection. I don't remember that number, either, but I think it was 35ish.

So I've been through breakups. I almost started posting a bunch of cliche metaphors to drive that point home, but I'll spare you all. Point is, I know what that feels like. I do.

So why does this time feel like chapter one?

I've been mentally composing this blog for a few weeks, and I think I finally came to the conclusion that this feels new because of a certain 2-year-old boy. Most of my dating happened before he entered the picture. And while this isn't the only time I've dated since then, this is the only time I've walked in the door the next day after work and had my sweet little boy ask where his buddy was.

It hurt. But not as much as I had thought it would.

I have this overactive imagination that likes to picture all kinds of things, both good and bad. So after the relationship ended but before I saw my son I had already pictured him asking me something like this. So instead of thinking "Oh. Stab. Pain." I thought "Huh. That was faster than I expected."

At this point, half of my 7 readers are thinking, "But...wait. Didn't I see you with him the other day?" Yes. Yes, you did. We're still cool with each other. Things are just different now. (Okay, clarification over.)

So back to this being chapter one. Yeah, that's what it feels like. The first significant relationship of my single mom days turned upside down. And instead of feeling like an old pro, I find myself wondering how many times I am going to have to do this. I don't know how many chapters are in this book. Maybe just this one. Maybe 3. Maybe 30. Please don't tell me it's 300 because I'll just stop now and go buy some cats.

I can do this. I can be strong for myself and my little boy. I can even live with having my heart broken from time to time. (Although if you'd told me that 4 weeks ago I may have shot laser beams from my eyes in your general direction.)

I am choosing to be strong these days. It seems like I have to decide that over and over because inevitably I slip back. But I'm much happier with Strong Manda than with Weeps All Over Her Ice Cream and Can't Get Out of Bed Manda. (Both of whom sound kinda like superheroes only the first one looks like Wonder Woman and the second one...doesn't.)

And on that note I'm going to go do some yoga. Okay, that's a lie. I'm going to stream Netflix on my Mac and eat a homemade baked apple. And then we'll see about the yoga.

PS: A week ago I went crazy and cut and dyed my own hair. Wanna see?