To All The Men I’ve Loved Before

1103419This is a love story about not being in love.  “But the title says, To All The Men I’ve Loved Before.  What do you mean it is about not being in love?”  you ask.  Well, because I have loved many a man without actually wanting to jump their bones and vice versa.  Here’s their stories.

As I was getting ready today, I was listening to Robyn.  Ya, she’s that Swedish popstar that everyone thought disappeared back in the 90’s.  She’s actually still making music, and great music at that.  I 100% think that Miley stole her haircut, and not Pink’s as everyone thinks.  She’s really fun to sing and dance to in the shower.  The song “Hang With Me” is one of my favorites.  Here, have a listen while you read the rest of my post.

As I listened to it, I thought of all my favorite guys I have ever had the pleasure of hanging with.  Oh how I love each and every one of you in a strictly platonic way!

My mom always joked that, while my sister Rachel dated many a boy, I just became their best friend.  I really did.  Some of my favorite memories are with my sister’s old boyfriends.  There were a few of her many boys that I didn’t like, but most of them, I loved!  Don’t feel sad for me, like my sister always got the guy I wanted. Trust me… Our “types” don’t really cross… But Blakey, Moke, Jeff, Brandon, Bradley, (actually, she dated a lot of guys through the years that I loved, so I probably shouldn’t start listing) I love my memories with you!  Then, of course, the one who won her heart in the end, the J Bird.  Let’s just say I’m the favorite in-law for a reason.  We have mastered the distract and conquer maneuver for getting what we want!

My college guy friends… Oh how you saved me many times!  Poor Nick and Lauren had to listen to my incessant complaining about my relationships.  Luckily, it wasn’t all about my very troubled love life.  Nick helped me build my knowledge of great film and an appreciation for dark humor as we would have our weekend “double features.”  Lauren and I had the most fun freaking out poor innocent BYU students with our dirty jokes that we could bounce so effortlessly off of one another.  I loved being the wing-woman who also played a little bit double agent while he wooed his wife, Carolyn.  Sweet Kyle would drag me to church, even though I hated going.  Lance, my favorite optimistic pessimist.  Someday I think I am going to find out that the show Dexter was based on him.  Lance and Lauren also helped me gain quite the vocabulary of less offensive ways to say very offensive deeds… Which is endlessly entertaining!  Who comes up with those deeds, let alone what they are called?!  They all married great girls, except for Lance.  He’s still single, so if you are an 18 year old girl with Asian heritage and the chest of a 12 year old boy, let me know.  He’d love to take you out, but only if you’re not from Utah!

Post college, I have a few guys I’ve been able to hang with that I love as well!  Andrew keeps me in check as my spiritual guide, who is also an attorney at law, should I need a quick legal question answered.  Steve Joel of the Bearded Baird, helps me see my inner hypocrite, but also embrace my inner hippy and artist.  It’s all very cerebral yet silly… Clarky, who has been unfriended and refriended because of his own interpretation of humor, is the most blunt person I know.  If you need an answer to a hard question that nobody dares tell you the answer to, he’s the one to break the hard news with a jolly joke!  There’s my male-mirror-reflection, Aaron.  He’s definitely more patient than me, but also more devious… Like when he thinks of the naughtiest things to tease about!  However, there’s rarely a childhood story or opinion that I’ve shared with him where he hasn’t had a similar situation on his side of the looking glass.  Bret, who I love to annoy, and loves to annoy me back.  He helps me realize my passion for design, but also with the looming threat of sending me to China, or worse, back to the bug infested hotel we stayed at in Portland.  Cheap as he may be on the room front, we eat amazing food, and he’s not too bad of a travel companion.

I feel like if I keep listing, I will surely miss someone and I don’t really want to hurt anyone’s feelings.  Then again, these are guys that I am talking about… They probably aren’t even reading my blog.  The Superbowl is in 2 weeks!  What are the analysts saying?!   Regardless, I’m so happy I have had great men in my life who I can call friends!  Thanks for letting me be the Tinkerbell to your Peter Pan!  Sorry… a more dude-friendly equivalent is escaping me… plus you all know how I love the Tinkerbell, so any comparison I can make to myself, I’ll take.  And if you were omitted, just look at it this way.  These men know too much about me and will have to be “dealt with” when I become President, so your omission is more of a pardon, anyways.


My 2013 Mantra 2013!  Ya, so… I dropped my blogging ball, and I am sorry, to you, my 5 little readers out there!  I’ll do better!  So, in deciding where and how to start up my blog again, I reflected on my odd day.  Today was strange, to say the least.  I had several unusual things happen to me, but one that sort of stood out from the rest.  This was a chance meeting that really brought up thoughts and feelings I hadn’t thought about in a while.

Side note:  This post is a not one of my funny, witty ones.  I promise, those will come back.  This one is more of catharsis.  I’ve referenced my ex-boyfriend before.  I don’t like to blog about him, because, well… I like to give him as little control over my life as possible.  My little blog is my own purchased little piece of real estate on the web, and I really never wanted him to be able to get a lot of time in it.  But this little meeting today goes back to him, so bear with me and it will come full circle.  I shall refer to him and all people associated with him as X.

As I was walking through a store today, I found myself face to face with Mama X and little sister X.  In a quick panic, I did what came naturally to me.  Say hello and be awkward.  The response I got from Mama X was appalling, but quite in character.  She asked me to remind me of how she knew me.  When I said my name, she still pressed.  “You know… X’s Nicole.”  I still cringe at the fact that I had to refer to myself as “his” Nicole, because I’m not “his”, but that’s beside the point.  Suddenly, as if a magical spell had been broken, she recalled all sorts of things about me.  We finished our conversation, and I walked away.  As I ran in to her again at the store’s exit, she grabbed me and introduced me to her friend.  She introduced me as Monica.  Again, I had to repeat my name for her.  Awesome, classy lady, right?!

So, flash back to 23/24 year old me.  I was engaged, and head over heels in entrapment.    I call it that because I just don’t see how anything that was that manipulated and controlled could be called love.  I was busy trying to plan a wedding that my parents weren’t very thrilled about.  My parents, to their benefit, were good sports.  I knew they weren’t a fan of X, but once my decision was made, they kept their opinions to themselves.  His parents, on the other hand, had told me they didn’t want to have a reception with their friends for us, but my parents could if they wanted to.  They disinvited me to all of their family functions that were happening throughout the holidays because X’s child and baby-mama would be there, and then there was the constant fight about our colors.  You wouldn’t think colors would be such a big deal to the mother of the groom, but the fights it caused… I can’t even begin to explain.  I’m giving the cliffs notes version here, because the real version is as tragic and lengthy as Anna Karenina.  Then there was the one-on-one conversation that happened the Sunday before the engagement was ended.  X’s mom told me this story of how her ex-husband, X’s biological dad, was a terrible person.  She divorced him, but their parents were still in the same LDS Ward.  One week, he came to the ward with someone new, and she said all she could do was pity the girl who was with her ex.  X’s mom proceeded to tell me that is exactly how she thought the baby-mama should view me, with pity.  This was a very strange conversation to have with the mother of X.  Nonetheless, I desperately felt the need for her approval and tried so hard to figure out how I was going to fit in to their very unhealthy “picture perfect” façade of a world.  It killed me that she looked through me.  She was the worst kind of cruel of any human I had ever met.

Okay, so let’s flash back to today.  The more I thought about this interaction with Mama X, the more I realized what a sick and twisted lady she really is.  First, there is no way that she doesn’t know the girl who her son dated off and on for eight years, let alone was engaged to.  My hair color has changed, but I didn’t have reconstructive surgery or anything.  Secondly, when I think of the manipulated cruelty she dealt so naturally over six years ago, it doesn’t surprise me that the knack of hers persisted.  The thing that was great this time, however, was that I had changed.  Instead of seeing some beautiful, thin, blonde, wealthy woman in a perfect house in the perfect neighborhood with her disapproving glare burning a hole through my heart, I saw something else completely.  I saw someone who was, well… Pitiful.  She deserved my pity.  There she was, pretending like all the material things she had mattered, that her opinion of me mattered, that the small talk actually mattered, when it didn’t at all, and were just beautiful robes for her sad, black heart.  I had grown past the need for her approval.  I had definitely grown past her son.  Most of all, I had grown in to someone who I was proud to be.  Even now.  I’m sitting here, thinking about the event, and I just feel sad that she thinks in such a small way.  I think of how her son treated me like I was never good enough.  How she treated me like I was never good enough, like I was never worthy.  I am so grateful that I know who I am.  I am a strong, albeit sassy, woman who loves deeply, cares sometimes a little too much, and is worthy because I know my worth to God and to those who truly love me and who I truly love.

So, the reason I decided that this was a good post to restart my blogging and begin 2013 with is because of this.  2013, my first year in my 30’s, is the year that I will not for one second forget my worth, for “Favour is deceitful, and beauty is vain: but a woman that feareth the Lord, she shall be praised.” Prov 31:30