I Attract Crappy Men

I attract crappy men. No point in denying reality, because it is what it is. Is it all my fault or is part of it just my life situation? I used to disagree with anyone who would claim their problems are not their own doing, until recently, that is.

You all know by now I am a widow. I have four children, and my father who had a stroke hindering his ability to care for himself lives here. I am, to the untrained eye, a bit much to handle. Anyone I date will have to understand my kids will always come first; even the one who is technically now an adult. They will have to understand as much as I would adore to live an adventurous life right now, I can’t just up and do things without planning and preparing. Maybe one day, but not any time soon.

I am a small business owner. Not just because it was a dream realized, but out of necessity. I can’t very well take a 9-5 job and expect them to be understanding when my family needs me home. My youngest, who suffered brain cancer two years ago, still has appointments and check-ups I have to take her to. My two middle children are active, not only in school but in the community and given their life history and the things they have gone through, I encourage it. I am still a mom, whether or not dad is still around to pick up the slack. That will not change any time soon.

Every day I wake up there are about three to four jobs worth of work to be done, and I barely get paid for one of them. When do you think I have this ‘free time’ to work on my love life? I am left with the shrapnel of overcontrolling men who think I need saving or the completely oblivious middle-aged assholes who think they are doing me a favor by talking to me. They look at me as if my life affords me little choice in the matter, and I should be eternally grateful they sent me an inappropriate picture of their sub-par anatomy. They act as if I should be grateful they see me as a sex object, despite the degrading and lowly way they complement my appearance. After all, a woman with four kids and no backup parent barely deserves respect, much less a decent interaction.

I am not a meager woman, who is begging for scraps and to be taken care of. I have survived on my own with no choice in the matter, and frankly, the strength it takes to do so, with my present circumstances, makes me a pretty solid choice. I have never had an easy life, but I do know I can make it on my own. Of that I am certain. At the same time, I know I have a train car of baggage. I don’t mean this in that I am not good enough for anyone; just that I totally understand a man seeing my life for what it is, and not wanting to sign up for the work it entails.

Most men need to feel needed. They have to feel like they are the alpha of a relationship in order to not fall into their insecurities. I can’t give that to them. They really don’t want me to. I don’t need them. Most men, when looking at the pool of divorcees, never marrieds, and even widows (we are different) go for the easiest to navigate. Or at least the ones they feel are easiest. The ones with one to two kids or no kids and almost always another parent somewhere to give them a few days break to enjoy each other. The ones with the same post-divorce anger issues they have. The ones who didn’t decide to take on the care of a parent. The ones who have a 9-5 and can leave work at work. The ones who seem simple or don’t have their problems and hard choices in the open.

Do I blame them? Not at all, but it translates to me being looked over, except by the overconfident assholes who have no intention of caring about me anyway. Before you ask someone like me out, remember that. Are you man enough to not be needed? Are you even capable of being with someone like me? Do you have enough faith in yourself to take on someone who takes on the world? If there is any doubt in your mind, then don't bother. Just remember this... life is filled with difficult times. Wouldn't you rather have someone who has proven they know how to handle them with you? I may not have a pretty life that fits into a Tiffany blue box, with a bow on it, but I do have one that proves I am worth it.