Posted by Ilana Angel
When a relationship ends it is humiliating. When you write about your relationship for the world to see, a break up takes on a whole other level of humiliation. I have spent the last year sharing my love with you. How we met, our dates, meeting kids, our first fight, our first trip together, going home to meet his family, all the way to the abrupt end to our love story.
I am embarrassed. Embarrassed that it ended, embarrassed that I could not save it, embarrassed that I care at all that I could not save it, and embarrassed that a month later I am still crying about it. I’m not crying because I am sad, although I am, I am crying because I am humiliated. I loved this man in a profound way and yet I could not make it work.
As I write I am thinking that I should not be writing this, but the thing is I feel like we are in this together. I get the best advice, support, and frankly kicks in the ass from all of you, so I am going to put it all out there. The painful truth is that even though I know there were things that needed to be sorted, I would not have given up on him, or us, the way he did.
A break up makes one reflect not only on the relationship, but on yourself. What is wrong with me? What could I have done differently? Could I have saved the relationship if I tried harder? Been more communicative? Taller? Thinner? Sexier? Dumber? In the end there was nothing I could have, or should have, done differently. I was lovely to him, and lovely with him.
He was also lovely to me, and lovely with me. He was a wonderful boyfriend and a best friend. Why do I put the burden of doubt on myself? Does he think he could have tried harder? Been more communicative? Taller? Thinner? Sexier? Dumber? In the end was there nothing more he could have done? Why do I make it about what I did wrong, and not what he did wrong?
I miss him. I miss talking to him everyday, getting funny texts from him, and knowing that I would see him. He was my friend, and I miss my friend. We are not speaking. Why would we? It is hard and I am feeling the loss. I find myself thinking about who he is dating and what she is like. Does he think about me, or compare me and us, to her and them? Not good.
I have stopped crying, stopped being angry, and am simply disappointed. My struggle is now in not talking to him. Something great happens, I want to call. Something bad happens, I want to call. When nothing is happening, I want to call. I miss my friend and the best thing I can do for myself is to remember that no matter how much I loved him, he hurt me deeply.
He ended our relationship in a cowardly way and it is unfortunate that when I think about this man, my friend, and a great love, the first thing that comes to mind is the hurt. That is sad for me, sad for him, and sad for the memory of our time together. Time heals and life goes on, but what a shame if I look back in time and can only remember the hurt and doubt.
I can’t forgive someone for being cruel, abusive, dismissive, or purposely mean, but I can forgive someone for being a schmuck. I deserve the relationship I want for myself, but no relationship is going to be perfect, and if the worse thing this man did was be a schmuck, couldn’t we have figured out a way to make it work? I am wasting my time thinking about it.
I feel like Adele wrote her albums about me. She gets it. Granted she is young and I am not, but a woman’s heart is the same no matter how old she is. My blogs are my songs, and this is a particularly sad one. I am lucky to have a place to share my stories, and blessed to have people who care enough to listen and share their stories in return. It is painful but cathartic.
I am fine. I am going to be fine. While I sort through the frogs, toads, convicted felons, and sociopaths, I hope he thinks kindly of me if he looks back. The truth is I just hope he thinks of me. I hope he knows that I really loved him and my heart is broken. I want him to feel bad about it. By feel bad of course I mean call me and beg me to take him back. Not really.
Maybe a little really, but not really, really. One could read this blog and think I am pathetic, but I don’t feel pathetic. I feel like a young girl who has never been through it before, rather than a grown woman who is going through it again. I will meet someone wonderful and I pray it will be before I give up because I am too scared to love again. Now I am pathetic.
Time is the only thing that can mend a broken heart. There is nothing anyone can do or say to make you feel better, but there is comfort to be found in someone understanding what you are feeling and thinking. You are certain you are the only one to ever hurt this way but sadly, and thankfully, you are not. The heartbreak of love is not new, and I am not alone.
I will regret this blog as soon as I post it. Then I will plan to take it down but decide to have a glass of wine first. Then I will get an email or a tweet from a woman somewhere in the world who knows exactly how I am feeling, and I will leave it up. Maybe he will read it, maybe he shouldn't, and that is the madness of love. I am having more wine, and keeping the faith.
5.23.13 at 3:17 pm | Dating, divorce, death, and marriage, all require. . .
5.22.13 at 6:34 am | I am forever touched by this young man.
5.19.13 at 5:43 pm | JDate should be more of a mensch.
5.17.13 at 5:27 pm | I am never going on another coffee date.
5.14.13 at 4:36 pm | Love needs a kick in the ass.
5.11.13 at 12:44 pm | My Mom gets the day off because this one is on me.
5.17.13 at 5:27 pm | I am never going on another coffee date. (392)
5.14.13 at 4:36 pm | Love needs a kick in the ass. (347)
5.19.13 at 5:43 pm | JDate should be more of a mensch. (333)
April 15, 2013 | 8:36 pm
Posted by Ilana Angel
How is it possible that a large group of men can all suffer from the same disorder and not be aware of it? Jewish men are simply unable to give their correct height. Why? If they are 5’4”, they say 5’7”. If they are 5’7”, they say they are 5’10”. If they are 5’10”, they automatically become 6’. Why do they do this if they want a shot in hell of finding a partner?
It’s not like lying about your height is not going to be discovered. It only means that if you meet someone wonderful, the first thing she will think about you, is that you are a liar. Actually, that is the second thing she will think about you because the first thing is that you are short. Height is not that important. I have dated hobbits and giants, not a big deal.
As I start my journey through online dating, again, I am seeing men that I actually know, and have first hand knowledge that they are lying about they height. It is hilarious to me. I only date Jewish men, so I can only speak of my experiences, but exaggerating height seems to be a Jewish problem. Jewish men are fabulous, but unclear about what 5’10” looks like.
In the end it is a dumb choice. I appreciate people are sad, lonely, and occasionally desperate, but lying is not the way to go. I am finding that men are also lying about their ages. There is one man in particular who I know for a fact is 58, but lists himself as 51. Some men list a certain age, then in the first line of their profile, admit they lied. So why lie at all?
I hope to meet a man who wants to have a relationship. When he sees me online he will see my real face, can Google me and find out everything he needs to know, along with things he probably does not need to know. He will know I have curves and am not a rake. He will know I am sarcastic, funny, honest, and not looking for a hookup. There are no surprises with me.
I’m not saying I don’t play the game, because I do, but there is a difference between saying I am short and saying I love football. I don’t love football, but I will watch it, get into it, learn about your favorite team, and wear your Jersey. I will not however tell you I am 42, a size 6, and 5’8”. The rules of dating call for some manipulations, but not lies, so stop lying.
Dating online makes me wonder if people are inherently kind but somewhat desperate to meet a partner, or inherently evil and looking to get laid. It is very stressful to allow yourself to trust a stranger. I understand it is the age we live in, but that does not make it any easier. Dating is hard, online dating is time consuming, trusting yourself is impossible, and JDate is painful.
I get emails from women all over the world saying they have given up on dating. It is exhausting so I understand their frustration. I listen to their stories and think maybe I should give up too. Some days I wish chicks did it for me so I could pass on men and meet a nice Jewish girl. I once took a Facebook poll to see how gay I was. I scored 1%, so chicks are out.
There is nothing wrong with being a tall Jew, short Jew, or old Jew. Even lying Jews are acceptable I guess, if they are attorneys. The thing is, we are Jews so there is a certain level of decency I expect. By expect of course I mean hope. By hope, of course I mean that finding decent Jewish men online may be impossible. Cute, yes. Decent, not so much.
To women who have given up, I say try again. We can do it together. We can support each other, laugh with each other, and cry with each other. Hopefully more tears of joy than sadness, but tears should be expected. Love is wonderful and the truth is a one date guy can also be wonderful. Actually, if you blog about your life, a bad date can be wonderful.
In the interest of not lying, I will tell you that a lot of what I have been writing this past week about my excitement to get out there again is a lot of bravado. I am scared to death. Scared of rejection and even more terrified of meeting someone great. Being a woman in her 40’s and dating, sucks ass. No way to sugar coat it people, it truly is horrific.
I am a little wounded and somewhat jaded, but thankfully I am not bitter. I am angry to be sure, that I am back in this position, but one can be angry without being bitter. I am here and I am trying. It turns our trying is all that is required of me. God, luck, and vodka will take care of the rest. Love is lost, life goes on, and love is found again, so keep the faith.
April 14, 2013 | 9:48 pm
Posted by Ilana Angel
Well it happened. After feeling sorry for myself, crying, and drowning my sorrow in red wine and cosmos, I have rejoined the dating world. It was a surprisingly easy decision. People give the advice that after a break up you need to heal and give yourself time, but the truth is that you never heal from lost love. I was in love, the relationship ended, and life goes on.
When you drink too much and wake up with a hangover, they say you should have a drink to take the edge off. The same applies to love in my opinion. When a man breaks your heart, you need to find another man to heal it. The only thing that can fill a hole carved out by love, is love. So, I’m back in the game, and after a couple of days of online dating, I am drinking heavily.
I have joined JDate and Match.com and it has been painful. There are men dating online who are using the same picture they did 10 years ago. There are men who list The Notebook as their favorite movie, and men who insist they are bringing no baggage into their next relationship. In short, online dating has a lot of men, and a whole lot of lying. Shoot me now.
In searching through the countless men, I realized two important things. One: Beyond frogs, there might be actual toads in my future. Two: Love is grand and I can remember more good than bad, so love is possible. When you are dating, online or otherwise, the most important thing is to know that love is out there. If you believe it is possible, it will in fact be possible.
I feel sad to be starting over. I am 47 years old, have a son with one foot out the door, and I will spend my new dating life just one bad date way from another cat. The sadness is there, but the hope is greater. I have hope that I will find love and during the process not have a date so bad I want to get another cat, bite my nails, cut my hair, or damage my liver too badly.
I am going to stay positive, approach it all with a sense of humor, and pray that I avoid killers, convicted felons, and the toothless. I am also going to publicly state that I am open to fix ups. I know a lot of people, and those people know a lot of people, so someone has got to know a nice Jewish man to fix me up with. How hard can it be? Needle in a haystack hard!
So it begins. I am officially single and looking. I’m a little older, a little wiser, a little thinner, and a little bitter. At the end of the day I am also fabulous, funny, pretty, kind, giving, and sexy. I am going to find a man who sees it, appreciates it, wants it, and is made better because of it. Here we go people. I am taking you all along with me, so lets keep the faith.
April 11, 2013 | 4:09 pm
Posted by Ilana Angel
I saw an old friend this morning and it renewed my faith in both myself, and my hopes for the future. We have not spoken in a while and it made me sad. We had a difference of opinion on what friendship is, and it caused us to not speak. I had to search deep to find the strength to put aside my ego and reach out. A day turns into a week, and a week into a month, so before too much time had passed, I went over to talk.
We didn’t really speak of what our falling out was about, as much as what our friendship means and why it is slipping away. I did most of the talking, shocking, and simply expressed my hurt at our not speaking. It felt good to tell my friend that not only was I hurt, but I was not giving up. Adult friendships are really complicated and difficult to maintain. With work and kids, time and effort is required to stay connected.
I love this friend. We are very close, and have an unwavering support of the hopes and dreams of each other. Having someone in your corner cheering you on is invaluable and when that voice is missing, it is a deafening silence. In the weeks we have not spoken the voice that channels the words of support, even when it is just in my head, has been missed. It has altered how I approach each day and I needed to get it back.
Feelings are hurt, and that is not quickly forgotten, but it is forgiven, and life goes on. It may be awkward for a little while as we both hold our breath for a minute, but it will be fine. Friendship matters and when you find someone that you trust to hold onto your dreams when you are unable to, you must fight for that friendship. I may have swallowed my pride this time, but over the course of our friendship, it won’t always be me.
Friendship requires faith, forgiveness and hope. When I think of my future, this friend is with me. Sometimes behind me pushing, sometimes in front of me pulling, but always beside me, whispering in my ear that I am going to be okay. The same is true of my role. If you are missing a friend, call them. It does not matter how much time has passed, or if you even remember why you are not speaking, what matters is that you call.
To my friend, thank you. Thank you for listening, for accepting my apology, and for offering your own. Life is short and time has been wasted. We don’t know what form our friendship will take, or how long it will be awkward, but things needed to be said, and in the end there is love. I wish a friendship like this for everyone. It may be good, bad, and occasionally ugly, but it is authentic, important, and inspires me to keep the faith.
April 9, 2013 | 8:12 am
Posted by Ilana Angel
I am a romantic. A serious over the top, anything can happen, sweep me off my feet, knight in shining armor, bring flowers on a first date, knees buckle at the first kiss, beshert seeking, happily ever after, underdog wins, men make passes at girls who wear glasses, you don’t look fat in that dress, can I help with the laundry, cards for no reason, afternoon delight, die hard romantic. I like romance. I like it, love it, give it and want it.
I will admit that I’ve read a Harlequin Romance or two. I will admit that I believe in fairy tales. I will admit that a romantic comedy is my favorite movie. I will even admit that I go on every date with a part of myself hoping it will be my last first date ever. I believe in love. I’ve seen it, had it, lost it and want it again. I make no apologies for my view of love and what are dreams for, if not to believe in? We are all worthy of finding love.
In talking to a girlfriend, she gently suggested that perhaps I was too romantic. I’m not even sure what that means. Can you be too romantic? She thinks that my views on love and relationships are those of Hollywood moviemakers who create unrealistic expectations for women that will never happen in the real world. Have I been brainwashed by Hollywood? Is it wrong that I think Pretty Woman could be a true story?
If I have been brainwashed into waiting for a romantic life that does not even exist, could I have a viable lawsuit on my hands? Could I sue Hollywood for ruining my shot at love? Perhaps I should invest the time I currently use wallowing in self pity to prepare the greatest lawsuit that Hollywood has ever seen. If there are any lawyers out there who want to help me out, get in touch! If Hollywood is to blame for my broken heart, they must pay.
Oh my God! I could get an email from a gorgeous Jewish lawyer who wants to represent me. We could meet to go over the case, instantly fall in love with each other, win a multi-million dollar judgment, get married and live happily ever after on the island he buys me for a wedding gift in the castle that I built for him. Then Hollywood will actually make a movie about my life that shows there really is no such thing as being too romantic.
I will always believe in romance and that anything is possible. I will watch every romantic movie that Hollywood makes, knowing that even the smallest part of the story could be true and really happen. When a relationship ends, and you are finally able to take off your rose colored glasses, you can see yourself and your ex clearly. It is that clarity which allows us to move forward, strive for more, believe in love, and keep the faith.
April 7, 2013 | 7:28 am
Posted by Ilana Angel
Today is my birthday. I am 47 years old. That is almost 50. At 46 I felt like I was still teetering towards the low end of the 40's but I am now officially well into my 40's and actually closer to 50. I don't care about birthdays that much, and truly have no fear about getting older.
I feel blessed to be a mother to my wonderful son. With each year I get older, so does he, and we get closer. He is a remarkable young man and I am proud of not only who he is, but of the job I have done in raising him. He is my greatest joy and greatest accomplishment.
I want this to be a year of growth. By growth of course I mean I want to grow emotionally and do not want the growth to extend to my ass. I am going to work on my emotional well being. I realized I have been taking care of everyone but myself, and I am overdue for attention.
I have a very clear goal of what I want from both my personal and professional lives this year, and I am going at attack both those dreams with guns blazing. It will take time, patience, and some therapy, but I am all in and I am going to get what I deserve because i am worthy.
To everyone who shares a birthday today, I wish for you all the things you wish for yourself. I hope you have a wonderful day, along with a year of health and happiness. Be brave, be kind to yourselves, and remember that you are worthy of all good things, so keep the faith.
April 5, 2013 | 4:22 pm
Posted by Ilana Angel
I like breasts. I like my own, and can admire others. I think they are remarkable from the perspective of using them to bond with my newborn baby, and remarkable from the perspective of incorporating them into my sex life. Boobs are important and should not be taken for granted, which is why I am constantly fascinated when women don’t respect theirs.
Today, as I wore my new pretty pink floral bra, I decided to take notice of the breasts around me. My boobs looked fabulous, know it, but that was not the case for a large group of women wondering around Beverly Hills. I found myself saying prayers for random boobs because there is torture happening all around us. Today I am here as a breast advocate. Pay attention.
I saw a woman with rather small boobs, but she had them in a bra that was clearly suffocating them in order to give them the appearance of oranges, when they were really grapes. I saw a woman with medium boobs, who was wearing a bra for small boobs, causing them to appear to be cut in half, so she was sporting four apples. Women need a lesson in bras and fruit.
I saw a woman who decided to forego a bra altogether, allowing her grapefruits to swing like monkeys from a tree. Another woman opted to tie a piece a string around her watermelons, which caused me to worry when she passed that I might lose an eye. You don’t put a Band-Aid on a gaping wound, and you don’t wear a tiny bra when you have big boobs.
The only time you should use string to contain breasts, is if you are tying up a chicken for Shabbat dinner. Breasts are important for a lot of women. They help define who we are, and if you think that is not true, ask someone who has lost hers. Breasts matter, as they should, and we need to respect them. Not just their health, but their daily lives, and bra needs.
Women owe it to themselves to get properly fitted for a bra. It will change how you look, and how you feel. Important to also note that unless you are walking down a runway during Paris fashion week, not wearing a bra is not an option. I don’t care how perky you are, get some support. To all the boobs in Beverly Hills, I hope relief is coming for you. Keep the faith!