I've Finally Discovered My Bitterness

I've been wondering when the bitterness sets in. You know, that angry, irrational part of divorce that makes women turn into men-bashers and/or depressed and pathetic homebodies? I saw my mom go through it. I've seen other (usually older) women go through it. Pissed that they can't live in their own homes anymore, that they have to sell their cars, that they are stuck with the kids most of the time, that the men their age want 20-year-olds.

I've been lucky. I still have the house (of course, it's a rental), I still have my car, he's not asking for any money from me, we don't have kids, and so far, the actual divorce process has been pretty smooth and amicable. I've been out with two 26-year-olds, a 31-year-old, and a 37-year-old, and they were all super chill skater-type dudes that were easy to date and deal with. I joined match.com for a free trial and got so inundated with email that I got overwhelmed and didn't respond to any, canceling my trial two weeks into it.

Everyone kept telling me my time was coming, that at some point the shiny newness of being so suddenly unencumbered would wear off, and I would realize that divorce sucks.

But most of the time, the lack of the previously-almost-constant tension and stress that surrounded my home life was enough to keep me going. The feeling that I was finally free to be myself, and not constantly trying to meet some unattainable and unknown "standard," kept other, potentially more negative feelings at bay, or at least overruled them when they came up.

But I have found something that completely, totally, and I have to say, irrationally, pisses me off.

Talk of weddings and babies.

I am unfortunately at the age where a lot of my friends are getting married and/or having their first/second kids. I'm going to be honest and say every time I see a facebook status message or a blog post about ordering flowers, picking bridesmaid dresses, finding out the sex of the fetus, or how so-and-so finally went pee pee on the potty, I want to vomit.

I know it's incredibly selfish of me. I know also that I should be celebrating the milestones of my friends and family, that children are precious, weddings are sacred, and all that other bullshit.

I actually went through my facebook roster the other day and deleted a bunch of people that were not close friends who regularly post status messages about their babies. I am soooo going to hell. I just can't take it. Having kids was one of the things that I wanted out of my marriage, that I was hoping and planning for in the near future, and that I feel was unfairly taken away from me without anyone asking me what I thought about it.

It's interesting to me that this is the thing that bothers me the most, so far. I wasn't particularly in a hurry to have kids when I was married. I kept thinking, we will do it when the time seems right. And it never did. Which is part of the reason we are no longer together. But as I've started to date again, and seriously think about my future, the concept of my future kind of scares the shit out of me.

For example, I am not sure that I want to get married again. Ever. Before I got married the first time, I trended towards "it's an archaic and no-longer-necessary legal institution that was created to control women, and I want no part of it." I'm not sure what biological switch flipped when I met my first husband, but it was tangible. And overnight change, literally. I changed my name and everything! Ohmigah. Who was that girl? The issue of the name change was one of our worst fights, and in retrospect, one of the many times a chunk of my soul went missing and I should have said, "sayonara."

But even more difficult for me to face is the prospect of being an old mom. I'm 29 now, and while I know the conventional wisdom is that I have a good 5-6 years before I have to "worry," the fact of the matter is I don't want to be an old mom. I wanted my first kid by 30 at the latest. Of course, there were a lot of things that I wanted to be different by 30.

Then there's the looming concept of having to have, um, a father for the nonexistent kid. I was recently dating a really nice, really hot, really successful software dude that loved to snowboard and had great taste in music, movies, etc. He took me on crazy-expensive dinners and called and texted me regularly. On our third date, he mentioned that he NEVER wanted to get married or have kids, and it was an instant turnoff. Never? Really?!

And as much as I really like the current person I am seeing, who knows if that will work out long term, you know? Realistically, how likely is it that you will end up in a real relationship with the first person you had any "real" interest in after your divorce? I think to myself, even assuming this guy and I were to go on to become something "real," most people date for what, 2-3 years before getting married or doing something as crazy as having a kid...which puts me at 32, 33 before I can even consider it. And again, that's assuming I only date this dude and don't end up going through you know, the breakup, nursing my broken heart, spending time alone for a while, complaining to my friends about the lack of decent men, meeting guys that seem cool but two months later AREN'T, joining match.com again, hiding my profile again, and then maybe, maybe, maybe finally meeting someone else...and starting all over. Not to mention how many, many people get a year or two into a relationship, or even to the "will we or won't we stage..." only to discover some as-yet-unknown yet dealbreaking aspect of the other's personality....yikes.

This is where I usually start to feel a little panicky and/or ill, a) because I can't believe I just thought that far ahead about someone I am dating, ew, and b) I am imaginining myself pregnant at my 40th birthday party, bloated and sober while my friends dance on tables and frolic in the grotto pool. Wait, what?! Um, yeah.

So there you go. I found the thing that I'm bitter about. That I'm angry about. Someone took my sperm donor without asking me first.

I know, logically, that it's highly likely I will go on to meet someone else, someone better suited for me and better suited for um, actually living with me and being my partner and a father to my nonexistent kids. I've read the statistics that most people (I want to say it's in the 70's, percentage-wise) actually remarry within 2-3 years of a divorce! That seems crazy to me - of course, right now, the concept of marriage seems crazy to me. And, honestly, I don't think marriage is a prerequisite for childbearing. I never have.

Besides, I guess if it doesn't happen, I'll just travel a lot. Get some fake boobs. Spend a lot of time at the gym. And continue to hit on 26-year-olds. It's working for me so far.