Me As Plan B-The End Of The Beginning

Have you ever thought, “Damn I've wasted my life?” Don't. Every single moment spent are two moments earned all added up to create a beautiful story that if told honestly, will release others from their own personal prison. See, if I didn't spend the majority of my adult life (to this exact point) racking my brain as to why exactly I put up with the Player of the Year's Ultimate Understudy, I could be living half way across the world. Or, IF I would have set my foot down sooner, he would have married me by now. And just maybe, IF I WOULD have done all the things he demanded of me, then I would have landed the Bachelor of the Year all for myself and we would live happily ever after in premarital bliss just 1 block West of Wisteria Lane. Oh, if Great-Grandma Lucy could only see me now! Twirling my short black hair that I chopped off in my Waiting to Exhale moment as I protested his so close to right-winged antics. I sit here and travel back to the time when I almost lost myself. I hated Bush but stomached him for you. Spending my days coordinating the next big 5-course meal in the not so custom kitchen of his “I haven't quite made it house.” I find myself once again tuning out his mundane bellows as like a father, he reminds me, in a "How To Talk To Adults Tutorial," to watch my tongue before the arrival of Mayor So-and-So.

If my skin had skin, it would crawl right out the door. Its in a late start race to beat my backbone that left just a few hours before. “Make sure you don't say” and “Maybe you shouldn't mention.” I grew to hate the same face that I wanted my future children to have. This is the man that wore those prepackaged shirts with the matching ties and I, well, you can find me combing through the couture racks of Saks and mentally stomping out the idea of him in my twice worn Louboutins. See, I was just a little bit caught in the middle of a dramatic comedy starring him, featuring me. And as I prepare my speech and accept the Oscar for Best Actress in "A You Should Have Left a Long Time Ago" role, I make sure to thank God first and then my Mom for teaching me to count to ten instead of dolly-whopping him with the nearest Williams-Sonoma saute pan. He was "great at everything," so he says. "Emerging Businessman of the Year," says Forbes. I simply say he sucks. But I allowed him to.

I was the one that accepted his lies and pretended his late night conference calls all made sense and I, I changed soo much of me. I'm should be skipping along in my 20-somethings but I was pushing 45 with him. His extra-large love handles stuffed into the sides of his $600, 2 year old “Have I impressed you yet” suit actually begun to weigh on my slim frame. I started to feel heavy as if I were the one that indulged in the late night baked sugary delights. And as I watched him inhale in the last bit of Betty Crocker, I realized two things. 1. I'll never seen cake look soo vile and 2. He's been sucking the life out of me and I'm on the back end of 3 steps from dead. At only 125 pounds, And under his hypnosis, I believed I was the one that needed to hit the gym. I needed to focus on my career and most importantly, I need to stop adding soo much stress to his life. The only thing I needed to do was keep myself from kicking a new hole in his pompous.

Oh sweet nights! How do we as women lose ourselves in relationships? I'm not saying we should refrain from change. I truly believe it is important to grow together even if you end up growing apart. But soo many times we wait for him. We want to figure out what he wants first. He makes the relationship decisions. When did we become Plan B? “I don't know if HE wants to be in a committed relationship,” she says. So she settles for less. When in truth, we as women need to ask, “What do I really want?” Only then will we know our next step. Ask God first, and then our powerful female selves. Do you want him? Do you want this to move further? Are you willing to accept everything that comes with him? We are what beautiful songs are made of. We are powerful beyond measure. But why don't we realize it?

Its official, 2010 will be "The Year of No Exceptions." I have accepted my mission as I am officially the answer and never the question. Today I vow to never settle for Mr. Maybe in both business and pleasure. Follow me on my journey into a world full of ookey-dokes, half-asses, and show-boats to learn just how class will be dismissed in 365 Days of A Fabulously Single Me.