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Meet Estrogena, The Pink Incredible Hulkstress

On this blog, I celebrate the ups and downs of turning 30.

I tell myself and I tell you that this is an age of discovery and an age of the beginning of accepting yourself for who you are, for real.

I talk about trying not to make yourself crazy if you aren’t married yet. Or if you are married, it’s not a big deal if you haven’t cranked out kids yet, or if you haven’t cranked out a brother or sister for the kid you already have.

I keep this theme of you are enough, and it all is timing. It’s better to be where you are then where you think you are supposed to be and totally unhappy.

Well today, I don’t feel that way.

Today, I feel like I should be married to a great man who protects me and helps me pay my bills, like the huge, expensive car repairs I’m staring down the barrel of over the next several weeks, because well I don’t have nearly $2,000 just lying around.

I would have it if I didn’t pay an ever growing rent alone, or put gas in my car, or eat or survive.

I love my independence, but the shit is expensive.

While I say this, I know better. My married sister always tells me, that yes, financially your husband helps you out, but more often than not, your bills are bigger. You have two cars that break down, you have a much larger home, that requires more resources to operate. Your money is gone to handle business whether you are single or with someone, so there isn’t much of a difference, but having their support is what matters and makes you feel better.

I’m sure my married and divorced readers can attest to my sister’s wisdom.

It’s not just about the money.

Going through this time of separation from my local friends, it would be nice to have someone to hold me and say it’s ok, you’ve got me, or that they will come around, or whatever.

I cried myself to sleep last night, because I wanted to stop loving someone. It’s been a year, for crying out loud.

But why did he have to recently say he still loved me?

Why did those words keep ringing in my head?

Since he said those tragic, beautiful, hopeful, dreadful words, why did I shut myself off from men who were either just as good-looking as him, who definitely had more money and more assets and better careers?

Why do those exact words, coming from him, mean more to me than the combined incomes, good looks and success of all of those other men combined?

Because I guess I hate myself equally as much as I love him. I’d have to hate myself to go through such torture.

But what does him still loving me mean anyway? What would be different this time?

What set me off? Why am I so emotionally unstable today?

My car repairs, and being a stupid Pandora by doing what I said I wouldn’t do.

Go on Facebook to look at who wished him a happy birthday. (I already know. I should have de-friended him a long time ago. I couldn’t do it, and neither did he. If he did first, I would have been mad. So round and round we go.)

Not only did one bitch wish him a happy birthday, she went on about how glad she was to celebrate with him and how they would have to finish their conversation later. And ended with a damn smiley face.

Smiley face.

It mocked me.

It taunted me.

This chick probably still dots her i’s with hearts.

I need to stop. I use smiley faces too.

But see? See how ridiculous one can become because of stupid feelings?

Feelings  make normally very rational women, turn into her worst enemy…

A hormonal, estrogen rage-induced, emotional nut bag.

Think a pink incredible Hulk with a weave, skirt, painted fingernails and toenails, ripping an encyclopedia in half with just her kuckles.  I’ll name her, Estrogena. The Hulk is so scared of pissing her off, he’s not even on Facebook. He deleted his account when he still didn’t change his relationship status a day after they became official.

A year later, with all the progress, all the fasting and praying, and bad mistake making, and enlightenment and business-starting and promotions; all the feeling stronger in my faith, all the relearning to love me, all the going to Zumba, all went out the window in one moment.

None of these amazing things I accomplished by my own strength and intellect mattered.

Facebook. One wall post that could have meant absolutely nothing, or absolutely everything on top of  an enormous bill for car repairs, and having to acquiesce to another year of living in this apartment, paying more than I think it’s worth, having to put off said car repairs for two weeks, winging it, praying the wheels won’t literally fall off my car (as the repair man warned) between now and then.  Finally, contemplating having to give up one or both vacations I had been looking forward to in order to be fiscally responsible, pushed me to my breaking point.

I told a dear friend I’m at the point I may go back to trans fats, heavily drinking and mindless sex with worthless men.

Then, I said I’d write.

Then work out, then take a shower and pray and cry while I’m in it and let the water and my tears become one indistinguishable rush of liquid on my face.

So here I am, writing.

Today, being 30, independent, alone, momentarily emotionally unstable and being fully aware if it, ain’t shit.

Smiley face.

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6 thoughts on “Meet Estrogena, The Pink Incredible Hulkstress

  1. You’re such a strong woman- thanks for showing the vulnerable side. You’re allowed days where you acknowledge that you’re not quite where you want to be in all areas of life. YET.

  2. lawen83 on said:

    I know how you feel, not 30 yet but its next year, and paying bills by yourself is hard and stressfull!! I love to run when I am feeling like this as I can take my pain out on the road. Some of my PB’s are from teary runs!

    Everyone has days like this! I felt like such a single girl cliche last night, I ordered too much take away watched a film and went to bed early (though

    • lawen83 on said:

      I pressed enter too early!! FAIL!

      I had to be up at 6am today for work) but I love doing that, I love the fact I can stay in my pjs, not tidy my flat, dance like a loon to any music I want! *hugs* we have all got one Estrogena inside of us and yes sometimes she takes over but that’s ok! You are still ok!

  3. We’ve all been there, you are not alone. I KNOW EXACTLY HOW YOU FEEL. I turn 31 on Friday and I’m not where I think I should be. To make matters worse, the last time I went to the home I purchased with my ex-fiance I saw a condom wrapper on the dresser. Like you, I was in freaking tears. As we heal we are going to have Estrogena days, but remember God is there to wipe them away. Do what you have to do to pick yourself all the ground and keep pressing toward the mark. I’m praying for you.

  4. *hugs* We all have days/times when we feel we are not where we are suppose to be in life. I turn 31 on Friday and fully believe I should be married, at least. Like yourself, I am healing from a bad break-up. There are days when I am in tears because I dreamed about him too many days in a row or I find old pictures of us when we were happy or I go visit the house we purchased together and see an empty condom wrapper.

    We all have an Estrogena in us. As we heal, you have to do what ever you have to do to get you back to “happy”. If it’s writing, then write…workout…dance…cook, etc. I doubt heavy drining and random sex would work. Just know that God will wipe away your tears and make you whole on His time…..I know, I know….His time is taking a while (at least in my case). Your readers are hear for you *hugs* Stay strong.

    • I really thank you for you comments! I feel the love. And you are right. Heavy drinking and random sex does not work. I know better. Over and over I have to keep reminding myself, God’s time is his time. His plans for me are far better than anything I could ever plan for myself. Thank you again! Even in the midst of your own hurt and drama, you reached out to encourage me. That takes a special and strong person. I really appreciate that!

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