I failed and it was all my fault.

Thursday, 28 February 2013

Like many posts that I write that begin with a disclaimer, I should probably just go ahead and trash this now... but alas, the stubborn Polish-German girl inside of me is just going to keep going and hope I have a few friends once I'm done.

I've made it no secret that I was once engaged, you can read about it here if you need to get caught up to speed on that one. And I'm pretty sure someone has been waiting for more on that story because "i wore yoga pants engaged" seems to be a popular search term here, as of late. If you're confused don't worry, I am too. Anyways, long story short, I am no longer engaged or in a relationship with that person and I was the one to end the engagement.

So if you've already posted about this, why are you posting about this again, broken record girl Whitney? Well, lifestyle blogging is really cool in that I get to read and pick other people's brains all of the time. So much so that at times I feel so in tune with someone else's story that I feel like I'm actually living it. This topic, in particular, is one that I have felt a lot around here lately and I just figured it was time to weigh in my two cents about it. As always, this is just my personal opinion and does not, by any means, mean it is relevant to your personal situation.

Forcing the engagement.

Who is already ready to throat jab me into tomorrow? I promise, it's totally awesome to disagree with me, I won't be upset about it. Hell, I commonly disagree with a lot of the posts married women write about how us single ladies haven't even started our lives yet. It's cool... to each their own, right? Right.

Ok, so enough beating around the bush. Let's do this thing.

Here is why I plead and beg for all of you ladies dying to get engaged to just relax and wait it out. Here is my story about how I let my insane (like, Leann Rimes insane) obsession with getting a ring turn my life in to complete shambles.

Like I said in my other post, we dated for about 4 years on and off. I was consumed with the idea of growing up, getting married, getting the house, the kids, the whole shebang. I was an actual crazy person and looking back now I don't even know who that person was that I was being. It seemed like everyone around me was on their way to this life I had created in my head and I was on the other end forcing everything, trying to create the life, no matter what the other party involved thought of it. Some call that control freak, looking back now, I just call it nuts. Completely nuts. My head was all in the wrong place, to say the very, very (veryvery) least.

I went as far as joining an "in waiting" forum on a wedding website where I communicated with other ladies who were doing the same thing I was doing... waiting. Watching everyone else get the golden ticket to Willy Wonka's chocolate factory while we were just stuck in Charlie Bucket's run down house, also known as the "in waiting" chat forum. Sharing this little tidbit with the interwebz is not my finest moment but if I'm going to make a post like this, I've got to lay it all on the table here.

It took me about 2 days after he bought the ring for me to find it, because apparently I am a basset hound to diamond hunting. From there on out, I lost every last bit of sense I had left inside of me - which, if we're being honest here, wasn't very much. I would come home from work every day and wear the ring around the house until I knew he would be home soon, then I'd shove it back in the velvet ring box and back in the drawer it was "hidden" in. I was obsessed and what I was doing was not even a little bit ok. I know this now, obviously.

With the ring, unfortunately not the guy.

And it was a beautiful ring, I know because I hand picked the setting and insisted it was the one.

From there on out all he had to do was hold my hand a different way and I was convinced it was going to happen right then and there.. but obviously it didn't. From my other story, we know that I "found" it one day and that's how the "proposal" went down. Really cool. Really insane.  

So, I got my way. Everything I was waiting for, I finally got. I could proudly sport my sparkly ring around in public and go buy wedding magazines galore. I went and tried on dresses, I visited with countless venues, met with caterers. All of it. Three months later, what seemed like 1 million congratulatory messages, and one engagement party down, the excitement wore off and I woke up. 

I woke up hard. And then it all crumbled in front of me. All of the family members who had attended the engagement party and adorned us with so many expensive and thoughtful gifts, they'd all see my failed engagement. My mom, who had been so excited about planning her only daughter's wedding, she'd see my failed engagement. My best friends who agreed to stand next to me on my big day, they'd all see my failed engagement. I failed and it was all my fault. 

Kathy Lee says it best when she says "everyone has a story", so I know that so many of you other ladies in waiting, who are probably rolling your eyes at me today, will have completely different stories that will lead to an amazing and happy marriage with the love of your life. But just remember that it isn't always what it seems. It isn't always the right time. If it is the true love of your life, time is no measure and it's ok to wait it out a little bit. Don't let the facade of the glitz and the attention take over what's most important, like I did.

In the end "Que Sera, Sera", or "Whatever will be, will be".

I can whole heartedly say that it was the craziest learning experience I have ever witnessed and I'm in a hell of a lot better place in my life now. I'm stronger, I'm happier, I'm way more independent, and most of all, I'm so content with being a non-married twenty-something woman. (Also a shit ton more level headed... but that really wasn't too hard to come by.) I only wish I could have read about someone else's crazy story like this 3ish years ago so I could have avoided the whole fiasco. Just kidding, like I'm really capable from learning from other people's mistakes. 

Oh, and if you feel like chasing me away with a stick because you don't want my bat shit crazies to rub off on you, I understand. I like to think they're gone now though. I think it was the ring's fault, which was give back a long time ago.

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Keeping it real...

Wednesday, 15 August 2012

It's humpday and I'm currently sucking down my beloved sugar free RedBull in hopes of being somewhat more useful than tits on a bull today. 

Alright, all of that aside, today I'm going to get real here. Really real. See, I'm the first to rant about the fluff blogs who never really expose their true self and only seem to live on a planet far from my own, full of rainbows and unicorns. Of course, I'd love if my life was all of that (who doesn't want to ride a unicorn on a rainbow?) and if that really is their life, kudos, but I personally can't relate. I'm one of those humans who has real human problems and experiences real human issues. Not to say I want to hear about fights or arguments with loved ones but it's ok, in my opinion, to give your readers real insight to what makes you, you.

Still with me? If you are, let's continue. So, if you've read my about me you may have caught on that I once had a different blog, which I deleted because of something that went down (to China Town) in my life. Elaborating... I was planning a wedding at one point in my life. Yep, this girl was once engaged, for about 3ish months. Why so short of an engagement? Well, to put it most bluntly, I was incredibly unhappy. From the proposal to the motives to the guy, it was all wrong.

The proposal, or lack there of, was a complete mistake. You see, I found the ring in a drawer on accident. It was weird and awkward and no matter how much I tried to justify it, it sucked. Definitely not what I had ever dreamed of. It was the perfect start to one of the biggest train wrecks my 25 years on this planet has ever seen.

The two of us weren't meant to be from the beginning. When I met him I was a young 19 year old and he was a bouncer (who was 3 years older) at a popular college bar I frequented, if you catch my drift. It was pretty cool, at the time, getting free entry, a 21+ band and all of the free well vodka I could consume on any given night. At 19, this is the stuff that makes you oooh and ahhh. At least it did for me. We dated off (a lot of off) and on for a couple years - we were one of those couples who broke up every few months, it was just as obnoxious as it sounds. I was always the reason behind the breakups and I admit that fully. I was selfish, young, and wanted nothing more than to go out and get crazy with my equally young girlfriends. That's what your early 20's are, right?

Well, somewhere along the lines, I guess, I got caught up in the mindset that I needed to grow up a little faster than I was and, in a sense, get the show on the road. (this is the part where I curse Facebook because young girls are way too impressionable - i.e. yours truly) Thus, I agreed to peruse this thing... all the while, my heart wasn't even 5% in the right place for such a huge thing. The idea sounded alright but the big picture was nothing I could ever envision.

After about a month of being engaged and my 24th birthday passing, I started to realize that this was really going to happen if I didn't do anything. Never in my life have I felt so trapped. There was a strong bit of manipulation coming from one part of the relationship (hint: not my end) and it was a really, really big disaster. On top of that, my family wanted to hear nothing of this wedding being called off. I was the most alone I had ever been, seriously alone. Making the decision to leave was the easy part, really, but the hard part was getting anyone else on board with me. God forbid my feelings actually mattered...

They say "when you know, you know" and I think this goes for the one and also the not so one. I knew, wholeheartedly, this was not the future I wanted for myself. Not in the slightest. The "D word" is the only future I saw with him if I actually went through with it... I couldn't, I wouldn't (as my man Dr. Seuss would say). So, I didn't. I gave the ring back and ended it.

Kind of like this.

Did he fight me? Absolutely. Insisted therapy, counseling, etc. I couldn't even fathom going to couples counseling at the ripe age of 24... I'm a firm believer that if there are massive issues from the beginning it's, most likely, never going to get better. In addition, I wasn't even slightly sad about the situation. It was like I had an empty chamber where my love organ was supposed to be located. Right then I knew, deep inside, I had completely done the right thing despite what just about everyone around me was telling me.

If I can say one positive thing that came from all of this it's that I really think I found myself during all of it. I learned how to listen to myself and how to tune out the world's white noise, which is an extremely blissful lesson. I also became a lot closer with different people in my life who were there for me and supported me. Even one lovely lady, who didn't even know me (I'm looking at you, PLL!), reached her hand out to me and helped me sort through that big mess.

So, there you have it... That time I was engaged to Mr. Wrong (the thought still makes me cringe a little). Virtual hugs for any of you who made it through this little novel.

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