Tag Archives: Dating sucks

About Me, Chapter 2, Mental Health, Where to?

Beige

Lately, I’ve been wrestling with a strange feeling. I feel like I left my sparkle in DFW. Back then, I shined bright—bold, vibrant, effervescent. I was the type of person who lit up rooms, who carried a certain energy, a certain extra that made me feel alive.

Now? I feel beige. Neutral. Faded. Completely… blah.

It makes me wonder: is this what growing up is supposed to feel like? Trading in sparkle for steadiness, vibrancy for responsibility, joy for a “just get through the day” kind of existence? If it is—then I don’t want to grow up.

Moving, transitioning, and starting over later in life are not small things. Sometimes the sparkle isn’t lost—it’s buried under the weight of change. We juggle work, family, bills, routines, expectations. And slowly, the parts of us that once danced so freely get quiet. They’re still there, just muted.

But here’s the thing I’m starting to realize: sparkle doesn’t expire. It doesn’t vanish when you turn 30, 40, or even 70. It doesn’t disappear when you relocate or reinvent yourself. Sparkle is a state of being, a choice, a return to what lights you up.

Maybe the question isn’t, “Did I lose my sparkle?” Maybe it’s, “Where can I find it again?”

Finding My Sparkle Again

For me, sparkle looks like:

  • Being around people who energize me, not drain me.
  • Doing things that bring me joy simply because they make me smile.
  • Saying yes to experiences that scare me a little but also make me feel alive.
  • Dressing up just because, blasting music in the car, laughing loudly at all times.

In other words—sparkle is about choosing vibrancy in a world that often feels dull.

A Note to Myself (and Maybe to You Too)

Growing up doesn’t have to mean giving up my sparkle. Adulthood doesn’t have to equal beige. Yes, life changes. Yes, I carry more responsibilities. But that doesn’t mean I can’t sparkle again. Maybe the grown-up version of sparkle just looks different: less about wild nights out, more about being fully alive in the little things.

And if I’m really honest, maybe the fact that I even miss my sparkle is proof that it’s still in me somewhere—waiting for me to bring it back to life.

Here’s to sequins in the everyday, laughter in the ordinary, and sparkle— always sparkle— no matter the season.

DDC

Question: Have you ever felt beige? Is “beige” a phase we all go through, or a warning sign that I need to recalibrate? And maybe most importantly—what’s your go-to move when you feel beige? What do you do as your personal “anti-beige” to bring the sparkle back?

Lesson: Growing up doesn’t have to mean dimming down. Adulthood doesn’t have to equal beige. It’s possible to carry responsibility and still keep joy, spontaneity, and vibrancy alive.

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Chapter 2, Love Life

Am I the Problem?

Lately, I’ve been on a rollercoaster with Facebook Dating. It’s been a cycle of joining, swiping, chatting, and leaving—only to come back and try again. A few meet-and-greets have come from it, and while some were genuinely pleasant, none have led to the connection I’m looking for. Either the spark wasn’t there for me, or it wasn’t reciprocated.  

I’ve met some nice people, but I’ve also found myself matching with individuals I wasn’t initially attracted to. I told myself it was about being open-minded, giving people a chance to grow on me, and stepping out of my comfort zone. But time and again, those efforts have proven unsuccessful. Attraction, as it turns out, can’t be forced—and neither can chemistry.  

Here’s the thing: I know I’m the prize. I know my worth, my value, and all the amazing things I bring to the table. So why is it so hard for me to truly live in that truth? Why do I keep finding myself settling for less than I deserve, hoping that somehow the situation will rise to meet me?  

The hard truth is, I’m the common denominator in all these experiences. It’s not easy to admit, but if I keep falling into the same patterns, I have to ask myself: Am I the problem? Am I the one blocking my own blessings by settling, doubting, or compromising on what I truly want and need?  

Recognizing this isn’t about self-blame; it’s about self-awareness. It’s about understanding that I can’t expect to find a deep, meaningful connection if I’m not fully aligned with what I deserve and willing to hold out for it.  

The truth is, being the prize means more than just knowing it—it means living it. It means refusing to settle, trusting the process, and having faith that the right connection will come when it’s meant to. It means being patient with myself, being okay with being single for a little longer, and focusing on my own growth and happiness.  

So no, I don’t think I’m “the problem” in the traditional sense. But I do think I have work to do. Work to ensure that my actions align with my self-worth. Work to break free from patterns of settling. Work to remember that I am worthy of a love that’s reciprocal, passionate, and authentic.  

DDC

Lesson: Yes. I may be the problem, but I’m also the prize—and it’s time I start living like it.  

Question: Are you the problem? 

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Chapter 2, Mental Health, Where to?

Adjusting

I’ve been in Louisiana for 70 days now, and I’m just about settled into my space. I have one moving box left to unpack—shoes. It’s amazing how many shoes I have, considering I wear the same pink flip-flops on a regular basis.

I know to clean the guest bathroom every Friday and take the trash out on Tuesday evenings.

I’ve got a couple of churches on my radar and have selected a local Toastmasters club to join.

I know of two taco spots with great deals. Mi Padres has a Taco Tuesday special: three tacos and a margarita for $15.

I started working as a bartender at a daiquiri shop three miles away and had an interview with PJ’s Coffee today, which went well.

Mom and I have developed a good rhythm. I enjoy quality time with my mom and Mason. We saw Inside Out 2 together. Great movie. I’ve made a few connections with old friends.

I was introduced to a very nice cigar bar in town. Good vibes. Great music. Perhaps I enjoyed the venue more because of who I was with than because of the venue itself. Perhaps.

How long does it take to start over? I am starting over in my forties. I have the opportunity to choose my identity. I am trying to figure it out as I go.

Lesson: It is starting to feel like home.

Question: Daiquiris or coffee?

DDC

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Chapter 2

IRL

I miss being held at night. It felt like home. I miss his consideration. He could be very thoughtful. I miss end of the day conversations. I miss feeling appreciated while preparing Hello Fresh. I miss someone else cleaning up afterwards. I miss having a handyman. I miss being in a couple. I miss having someone to do life with. I miss being an “us.”

What am I doing about it? I joined Hinge, an online dating site, a couple weeks ago. Potential matches are fewer than Tinder but more than Coffee Meets Bagel. Hinge advertises they are designed for you to get off the app with a match. I’d honestly rather meet someone in real life. IRL. Does that happen anymore? Why does dating have to be so complicated?

I’m ready for a life partner.

At least I’m ready to try.

XOXO

Lesson: I’m accepting life partner applications.

Question: Who do you know?

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Chapter 2, Daddy, Love Life

A Taste of Coffee

Coffee reached out after my Daddy’s memorial expressing his concern and offering his support. He has always been a thoughtful man. When he said, “if there’s anything that I can do to help support you, then let me know,” I’ve been offered support in the past, but I never know what I needed. I immediately knew what I needed when Coffee offered.

That night, I longed for friendly banter, companionship, and the comfort of being held. It reminded me of a line from “Waiting to Exhale” where Angela Bassett’s character, separated from her husband, admits, “I’m not like you, Gloria. I need to be held, even if it is a damn lie.” But what if it wasn’t a lie?

I eagerly awaited Coffee’s arrival, glancing through the peephole after he called from the parking lot. When he stood at my door, I sensed him collecting himself, preparing to interact with me, his ex. Encounters like these can be unpredictable. Our last phone conversation wasn’t pleasant, though not heated, just uncomfortable. Endings often carry that weight, but it wasn’t what I desired for us.

Coffee looked great, wearing a crisp white short-sleeve button-up and khaki cargo shorts, exuding a casual and classic vibe. We engaged in casual banter, catching up like old friends. He noticed that I had rearranged my furniture, making my apartment appear larger—a realization of the cute studio apartment I had always dreamed of. Chapter Two.

Have you ever experienced the realization you are living at least one of your dreams?

Coffee and I lay on top of the comforter, watching “Funny People” on Netflix. I chose the movie, as I adore Adam Sandler, and Seth Rogen’s humor always brings me joy. I needed a good laugh.

That night, Coffee held me close, and I reveled in being the little spoon. It felt incredibly comforting and pleasurable, as if the past had evaporated. It was as if he hadn’t ghosted me, as if he genuinely wanted to be with me, as if we were both at home in Chapter Two.

XOXO

Lesson: I had a taste for some Coffee this week.

Question: What’s your favorite Adam Sandler movie?

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Chapter 2, Love Life

Farewell

I usually wake up before my 7am alarm. I rinse my mug from the night before. A birthday present from a friend. I love filling my mug from the filtered water spout of my side by side fridge. My new apartment comes with filtered water. It’s a first for me. Chapter Two. The little things mean so much to me. I put the cup in the microwave for 2 minutes then head the two to three steps to my dining table to take my meds. The microwave beeps, I add cinnamon dolce skinny syrup and three ice cubes and stir. I like stirring the ice until it melts. It has a calming effect to the moment. My soul is soothed by a cup of warm tea.

Coffee. It was a beautiful moment in time.

XOXO

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About Me, Love Life, Mental Health

California King Bed

There was a time when I would spend entire weekends in the bed. Of course, I would get up to use the restroom and get something to eat. I would just get back into bed. I would rarely answer the phone. I would occasionally respond to text. I set the thermostat on the coldest temperature, restarted Grace and Frankie from season 1 episode 1 over and over and then get comfortable in bed ready to sleep the day away.

It did not dawn on me that my sleeping was a faint cry for help. If I did not have any obligations to go anywhere, then I would be in the bed. Was I depressed? The thought often crossed my mind. But if I was depressed then why wasn’t I also in bed during the week I wondered? I convinced myself that it wasn’t depression.

In hindsight, I believe it was a case of high functioning depression. My last relationship had ended. . . very badly. I thought he was my future Mr. I was entirely wrong about him and his intentions. I was sad and extremely lonely. The break up felt like a punch in the gut. Ouch! I didn’t want to show up for myself on the weekends. There was no cleaning routine. My place consistently looked like Hurricane DDC had ransacked everything. There was no desire to workout. There wasn’t a relationship with the Lord. I was grieving. I didn’t know it then, but I can clearly identify it now.

This was several years ago now. I was up this morning pulling the sheets off of my bed getting ready to wash (Wednesday is the day to clean my bedroom) and the thought crossed my mind of how I used to spend entire weekends in this bed. Thankfully, I am pass that phase of life. I function. I clean. I pray. I meditate. Occasionally I work out too. I do not want to go back to that place. I will not go back.

XOXO

Lesson: You never know the battles that people are fighting daily.

Question: Do you notice when the life of the party stops living?

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Chapter 2, Love Life, Mental Health

Red Flag(s)

How many red flags before you are out? Is it like baseball? Three strikes and you are out. Or . . . is it one red flag and then game is over?

Damn. It’s 1. Is it ONE!!!!!!!

Why do I give Stop Sign(s) a second chance? Well, actually I give five chances. Today was the fifth red flag! WTF!

I need to sit with this.

XOXO

Lesson: Expect more, give less.

Question: When is my next therapy session?

Note: Read the blog post entitled, “Stop Sign.”

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Chapter 2, Love Life

My Buddy

Y’all! I made a platonic male friend! I’m so excited. He’s a cool professional dude. He is in the beginning stage of a divorce, so dating him isn’t an option. He’s cool to hang around and talk to. I love having access to a male opinion. We have some things in common. Interest in cigars, networking as a social activity and making decisions which bring peace of mind.

He and I met at a networking mixer, then connected over LinkedIn. Very informative conversations. He read the book that I’m currently working with, 12 Week Year. It is a real pleasure to have intellectual conversation with a male. Let’s give him a name. . . Buddy!

Buddy has connected me with his fraternity brother to speak on a panel to college students about the organization I work for. Speaking on a panel is on this year’s vision board! I’m nervous. I don’t know what I am going to say yet. I will work on an outline next week. The panel isn’t until March. I’ve got time to prepare thoroughly.

XOXO

Lesson: Maintain meaningful relationships with forward thinking individuals.

Question: Can men and women be friends?

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Love Life

Weird

I have grown up with the understanding that I move differently than most. Some call it a free spirit. Some call it haphazard. The label you use doesn’t matter much to me. It is the sentiment that I admire. I am not your average woman. Recently, someone called me weird, but I believe the intent was to be hurtful this time.

I have been living by a daily cleaning schedule. Wednesdays is bedroom cleaning day, I am about to put my bedding in the wash when I take a break from this post. I pick out the drinks in my refrigerator from left to right. I expect visitors to do the same. Let me see, what else. I cannot have the sound from the tv on while I am working, but I can listen to music loudly and work and still am able to work productively. My very large mirror has a name, Dandelion and is my prized possession. I occasionally talk to my mirror. Just a comment here and there, never an entire conversation. But that is probably because a mirror cannot talk back. I have a particular way to make my bed in the morning. There is a designated order to the way the pillows are positioned. I go to bed watching the same Netflix show every single night for the last 3-4 years. I do not watch reality tv. It actually irks my nerves to even hear realty tv on my television. I have a special spot where I sit on the sofa. I politely ask guests to switch seats with me if they get to my seat first.

I received a text message stating that I am, “too weird.” Hmmm. Weird. Weird? I am definitely a different kind of a person. But am I weird?

Let me know what you think.

XOXO

Lesson: What someone else thinks about me is irrelevant to me.

Question: Do you think he meant “weird” as an insult?

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