Freedom is . . .

Freedom is . . .

painting the walls of my house any damn color I see fit
a rumbling Harley under my ass and the road stretched out before me
a long walk with my old dog accompanied by the sun and the breeze
summers without students and papers and inane in-services
a good book and hours (or days) in which to spend reading it
a restful night made such sans snores and constant cover-stealing
telling my nearest and dearest anything without judgment or backstabbing
a son and a daughter becoming what they want to be
a buffet before me and an empty plate to fill however I choose
drinking a beer on my porch and watching the day turn to night
a chat with my best friend no matter the distance, the time, or the topic
a paycheck to feed my family and buy me the books I love
driving cross country with the radio up and the windows down
a cat stretched out in the sunlight coming through the window
a song that makes me dance across my living room and back
writing whatever I want, whenever I want and wherever I want
a kiss that releases my heart from the prison it once inhabited
a bill totaling about 200,000 dollars and worth every single cent


Tammy Marshall
May 18, 2014

Looking for Love -- Second Edition

In a recent post, I discussed my online dating life since my separation and subsequent divorce after 22 years of marriage. I ended that post on a hopeful note believing that I'd actually met a man worthy of my renewed faith in love and the positive outlook I've decided to embrace.

Sadly, he proved himself to be completely unworthy of my love, my respect, my admiration and any other positive warm-fuzzy feeling I want to include in my life. Not to disparage him here because he sort of was a nice guy; however, one can't feel anything but contempt for a man who doesn't even have the balls to actually break up with a woman. He just faded out of my life, and when I demanded an explanation from him I received one via e-mail! It was a pathetic excuse for an explanation, but, hey, at least I got one, right? (insert scoffing and eye rolling)

So, I'm moving on once again. One half of myself says, "Stay away from men all together! They are nothing but trouble. At this age, they are either divorced with all the baggage that entails, never married which begs the question of 'why the hell not?,' or widowed and still pining for the wives taken from them too soon." The other half of me reminds the first half that the entire me deserves to experience real, true, honest-to-goodness love -- a love that is directed at me and not based on selfish needs, immature raging hormones or a misdirected sense of obligation.

Which half ultimately wins this battle remains to be seen.

I'm currently giving a new guy a shot, and so far, he seems like a pretty great guy. It's still very early, though, so I'm sure this post will have a third edition that will either contain an acknowledgement of my success with this one, or it will perhaps be written by the first half of my psyche who is convinced that men aren't worth the effort and that I should just give up on them.

I'm left with the thing I ended the other post with -- Hope. Since my divorce, my life has only improved every single day. That isn't an exaggeration, either. Every single day, and I mean every single one of them, is better than the day before. With each day, that horrible load I once carried upon my shoulders gets lighter and lighter as Time adds his healing touch to my life.

Thus, I'm left believing that no matter how this current relationship ends up, I will someday experience the love I've been denied all these years. If it doesn't come in the form of a committed relationship with a man, then maybe it will just come from within myself as I continue to build a life that fits me -- a life free of ridicule, negativity, selfishness, new debt, condemnation, disdain and so many other things I'm happy to be rid of.

So, whether with the love of my life or not, I know this -- I now love my life!