New Kid on the Block

2009/09/24 at 3:36 PM 2 comments

Our engagement period was a short one before I chose to move my shoes, my dogs, and my life to Mi Hombre’s city. As much as I dreaded giving up my house with it’s Zen garden, it was the only way our relationship could work. Super-girl could not be relocated like a prized piece of furniture although; the thought had crossed my mind. I sadly boxed up my things, said goodbye to life as I once new it, and moved an hour south to a fresh and upcoming little city.

Yep, I was the new kid on the block. His tiny house was cute in a craftsman’s sort of way. It was completely urban central and located in the middle of a quaint little art district. At first, I thought that trading in my country escape for city central may not be so bad. There was no longer a need for delivery-you can walk, when you can’t sleep there is usually a local band playing on the corner or a show at the neighborhood theater. Gallery hops bring fresh faces, the pubs bring comical wandering drunks, and the transitioning of the area always houses its fair share of displaced hobos. I know all of this paints a wonderful and hip new beginning…great locale, good food, gallery hops, and of course new shoe stores…and it was…short lived.

With my announcement to the neighbourhood came the Welcome Wagon. Not the flower basket and apple pie that one may traditionally hope for, this Welcome Wagon consisted of the ex wife, the ex friends and the many remnants of the ex life. I felt like a display item, a circus show freak, like a complete outsider. As I explored the neighborhood shops and boutiques it was like everyone knew who I was before I ever had a chance to introduce myself. It never failed that everywhere I went I either ran into the ex or her friends surrounded me. It was strange, unsettling and very foreign to me. The stares, the insincere hand shakes, the silence, the gossip, it all felt very much like I had walked into the movie set of “Mean Girls.” I was in her territory, on her block and she wanted me to know it.

Well, I heard it loud and clear, and when the poisonous arrows began to fly from the little green house around the corner it was time that Mi Hombre and I listed the house for sale. You see it isn’t that we don’t enjoy a challenge-we have plenty. It is not like we were bowing down and being bullied out of the neighborhood, because she isn’t that powerful. It is because we both have a low threshold for toxicity, and toxic was what it was becoming. The frequent boundary violations, the incessant calls, the inappropriate emails, the unwelcome visits had me at my whit’s-end and Mi Hombre summoning the ex back into mediation. We want a happy and healthy future for our remarriage. This includes a sanctuary, a home that is ours to symbolize our new beginning, serve as a pillar of hope and inspiration-absolutely nothing remnant of the past.

…It has almost been two years, we are still living in the cute little craftsman-and around the corner from the ex. Granted, I have done what I can-I have made the best of it. Admittedly, some days my tolerance is better than others. Some days I curse it as a toxic hellhole and have a tantrum about the fact that we are still here. Friends? Sadly, it seems to be true that as you age they seem harder to find. There are many acquaintances though, and as a stepmother there are plenty of biomom’s to befriend-that is, if they welcome you to their clique, given that you aren’t a real “mom.” With all negativity aside, I have on several occasions been able to enjoy the hip little neighbourhood for what it is and without disruption. I have spent hours getting acquainted to this quickly growing fresh new city. Without any hesitation I can say, that I have come to enjoy it quite nicely.

And, on those days when I feel confined, unbalanced or stressed, I spend a lot of time back in my old stomping grounds where friends are bountiful, the atmosphere is sweet and the wine is fruitful. I hold tight on hope. I keep dreaming of that beginning when my life will have privacy and be uniquely ours. I believe, that one day, when the economic river begins to flow again. I will have my house, with a new Zen garden and sans the ex wife, the ex friends, and the ex life.

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Entry filed under: engagement, ex wife, mean girls, Mom, STEPMOM, ZEN. Tags: , , , , , , .

M.I.A. Out With the Old, In With the New!

2 Comments Add your own

  • 1. gillian from sweet indigo life...  |  2009/09/24 at 6:06 PM

    Fresh new beginnings are on your horizon…just don’t ever take your eyes off it. Its yours. Bring it to life!
    It sounds as though you are well on your way.

    Making the most of an unpleasant situation is your best plan of attack-the galleries, pubs and little nooks of your city are just that-YOURS…so glad you found some solace in this.

    There’s no need for mean…is there? Strange dynamic this step-thing is, isn’t it?
    xoxo

    Reply
    • 2. ella mental from stepmother with Grace...  |  2009/09/25 at 3:11 PM

      Oh yes, the step-thing is a very strange and challenging dynamic indeed.

      I am trying my best-sometimes that is just all we can do~with a little help from our friends! xo

      Reply

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It’s all Ella Mental!

If you asked me 3 years ago would I consider becoming a stepmother I would have choked emphatically NO! Probably not just no, but HELL NO! I would never entertain the thought of trying to raise someone else’s kid(s) or be married to a man with an enormous load of shh...Shall I just say, B-A-G-G-A-G-E (Pronounced: OMG!) I have seen enough drama on the colourful trails of adventure in my life, enough to know that I would simply not ever knowingly plop myself down amidst the chaos of a stepfamily.

Well, in 2006 I ate my words…

I am a 35-year-old career woman, wife to the most dashingly authentic man on this planet…sorry ladies…and gents! I am a “Mother” ( I quote this b/c I don’t believe that you have to pass a spirited life through your Va-Jay-Jay to be one.) …of 4 wild-hearted four-legged children, and the stepmother to a wickedly brilliant 7-year-old stepdaughter.

Feel free to accompany me as I write about my vastly changing life, my kids; both four-legged and two, my (step) Family (I place this in parenthesis b/c I don’t consider anyone under my roof with the term step, they are simply FAMILY to me!) … and the trials and tribulations of transitioning from a single woman into a stepmother (not always) with grace.

Ella Mental Contact

stepmotherwithgrace@gmail.com

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