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Sunday 8 December 2013


So my resolve is being tested like none other… well, maybe like Job.  I thought I had finally hit my groove in this whole experiment, but this weekend brought light to how wrong that was – I’ve just been hibernating for a few weeks. 

I cheated again.  I made out with a gentleman that works in my industry – and this time I don’t have alcohol or anything else to blame, I just really really wanted to.  But… I didn’t sleep with him (but that wasn’t for lack of desire – I also really really wanted to do that).  This man, let’s call him “Art”, is fairly well-established in my industry and I have admired his work for a long time.  Last year, I finally met him in person at a holiday function and made a fool of myself (at least from what I can remember of the night – reasons not to drink at work functions!).  For the past year, I have avoided making eye contact with him and would pretty much run away every time I saw him – you know, the super mature approach.

Friday 29 November 2013


Wow!!!  4 months down, 8 to go!  I thought it was noteworthy that today is the 333 day of the year and it also marks the 33.3% point in this process.

The past few weeks have been centred on the idea of moving forward from past heartache in my life and fully accepting this new world of alone.  I wrote in “Facing the Void” about saying goodbye to The Ex in a letter and honestly facing life after that relationship… well, that was all well and good, but it didn’t stop me from obsessing about it.  This past weekend it dawned on me why.  I wrote a letter saying goodbye, read it into the air and burned it.  Yes, a ritual, like my therapist recommends, but the wrong ritual.  I spent years writing letters to him that he never read (at least not until we broke up).  This wasn’t really any different and did not offer the closure that I sorely needed.  But there was one thing that could…

Thursday 21 November 2013


You might be saying, “Ah, yes, of course – exactly what a woman in her early 30s would be talking to her therapist about: babies.”  Wrong!  This “baby talk” was something completely different.  As an abused child, I was forced to care for myself from a very early age.  I was essentially an adult since the day I was born.  This meant that I didn’t go through many of the developmental steps that children typically experience.

As we progress through the healing process, I am moving through variety of stages.  Recently, I have been discussing my existential awakening and exploring my anger towards the shittiness of life (at least up until recently).  (Yay!  Happy fun times! – not!)  So this week, we began discussing how this process is like being reborn as a complete person, which means going back and trying to correct the damage done through the first half of life by redeveloping.  Right now, apparently, I am in my “baby stage” where all I want to do is eat, shit and sleep – which pretty much describes my last week.  It’s been a tough fight to even get out of bed long enough to eat.  You might say this sounds like depression, which it kind of is, but not in the same way that I’ve felt depression before (which I have – a lot!).  I’m calling this “progressive depression”.  It is a necessary side-effect of the therapeutic process.

Monday 11 November 2013


Well… it’s been a rough week.  This week my lovely, wonderful therapist continued her pursuit in making my life better by charging me with facing my demons which are so neatly and carefully arranged in my subconscious.  Bullshit!  At least that’s how I feel at this particular moment.  For anyone seeking a quick and easy fix through therapy, it doesn’t exist.  It is a long hard process where half the time you want to tell your therapist to F-off and then are forced to do all those things that make you scream and shout and cry and bawl.  YAY!  But, as I’ve been promised, the world on the other side will be wonderful (and trust me, the little glimpses I’ve had of the peace of spirit that comes with conquering this territory have been enough to keep me trudging forward).  But, is it fun? No. Is it easy? Hell no.  Do you want to quit and go back to your ignorant stasis? All the freakin’ time!  Is it worth it? Completely.

Anyhoo, that’s how I’m feeling about therapy at this moment.  Mainly because, despite my best efforts, life continues to kick my ass (you can tell I’m writing from a very visceral place this week because of all the swears).  The real problem right now is that I have the false expectation that just because I’m doing all the things I’m supposed to do to become open and vulnerable to the world, crappy things still happen.  I’m really just whining, but hey, that’s part of the process too.

Back to the heart of the matter, this week in therapy we are dealing with “facing the void”.  This could mean different things to different people, for me it means looking at life alone.  Alone – a scary word, though it doesn’t have to be (which is what my therapist is hoping I’ll see – not quite there yet).  In my last post, I discussed that The Ex had begun dating again.  Liberating, but also the cause of a whole bunch of other emotions.  For the past 3 years he has been committed to the idea that we could still work things out and had yet to start moving on.  For me, there was comfort as well as frustration in this thought.  Though we weren’t together anymore, I could still find solace in the idea that somewhere out there someone wanted to be with me.  It wasn’t fully over.  I didn’t need to engage in this new world I built because there was always the option to go back to the one I left.  It was kind of like a video game, I had reached a point where I could move forward in the story, but if I continued to the next chapter, I wouldn’t be able to go back, so I spent time exploring every crevasse to make sure I didn’t forget something that I might need in the future.  I’ve spent enough time in that level and now that The Ex is dating, it’s time for me to close that chapter and move forward.  Easier said than done.

Tuesday 5 November 2013


This was a completely unconscious decision to begin with, but has developed into one of my favourite ideas in this experiment thus far.  I am working from home for the month of November and therefore have spent most of my days in pajamas or the equivalent.  This also means that shaving has gone out the window.  I live in Canada and it is starting to get cold.  I no longer wear any piece of clothing that shows my bare legs (except for my 3/4 length track pants that I wear to bed), so I stopped shaving about the time that I last had to go into the office (which was over a week ago).

Frankly, I am of the opinion that shaving while you are single in the winter is one of the most futile activities in which a woman can participate.  What's the point?!  It makes you colder and it is a pain in the butt (or in the leg, in cases of razor burn - ouch!).  The only reason to do it is if you have some event where you have to wear a dress or you are going to some sunny destination.  Luckily, no such event exists for me in November.  So, I'm on a shaving strike.  I'm thinking of it as my own form of Mo-vember - Grow-vember.

I fully support the Movember cause, we should definitely support men's health and health awareness, but by the time the end of the month rolls around, I start to wonder what happened to all the good looking men in the city - they all seem to be replaced by trolls with dead animals on their face.  Don't get me wrong, I'm a lover of facial hair!!  A beard is almost a mandatory pre-requisite for dating me.  But... so many guys have no business rockin' a moustache and Movember forces the rest of us to spend our days staring at these unfortunate gentlemen.  Good times were had by none (well, except for those guys that think it's super cool to flaunt their gross handlebar 'stache - ick!).

So, to show my solidarity (and because no one will be taking my pants off during this month), I am growing my leg hair!    And don't think for a second that I'm one of those lucky fair-haired girls that can let it grow for a month and still be barely visible - oh no, I am a coarse, thick, shave-every-2-days girl!  Yuppers!  Here we go!  Once it starts to get really gross, I'll post some pictures...

Happy Grow-vember!!

Saturday 2 November 2013


I am officially ¼ or 25% of my way through this year.  Let’s do a general check-in!

My feelings thus far are still really positive.  Overall, I would say I have avoided more disastrous relationships than I have missed had I been dating during this time.  Not dating has also given me the mental freedom to perform better at my job and focus on my other creative pursuits (like writing this blog).  Not having sex has been a trickier time; during periods of high stress, I miss having the option of a “stress-relief” session with a close friend or acquaintance – or what the rest of the world would call a “booty call”.  Although, the whole point of this year is to move away from these random encounters and focus on finding something with depth and staying power.  (Note: in no way am I knocking, judging or discouraging “friends with benefits” or similar type situations – they have given me great pleasure in the past and I’m not saying I won’t experience them ever again, but for me for now, they are not right.)

It has been an action packed few months though.  Most recently, I met a wonderful guy at a wedding a few weeks ago.  WHAT?!  You met a guy!  NO DATING! … Relax – A. not dating him.  B. It ended before it started.  It was quite the fairy tale story, so I will call this guy, Prince Charming.

Friday 25 October 2013


280 days left!  As I sit here in my hobbit-hole of an apartment and finish putting my clothes away for the day, more than anything I'm thankful for this time on my own.  I try to picture life living with another person and can't imagine it.  I love my little space with everything exactly where I want it.  I love making the food I want to eat (no matter how bizarre - tonight's dinner was zesty tuna salad on a bed of spicy baked beans and corn - let me know if you want any of the recipes).  This makes me wonder if maybe the reason I'm not having any luck with dating (obviously not currently, but previously) is because I don't truly want to be in a relationship.  Perhaps (crazy as it sounds) I'm just happy being on my own.  Now, I still miss the sex.  Boy, do I ever miss the sex.  But, maybe I'm not actually looking for a relationship.  While out to brunch with girlfriends, I would commonly remark that I wish I could find a monogamous sex partner, to which they would reply "that's a boyfriend".  But that's not what I mean.  I would be content having a really great male friend that has a ton of the same interests as me and who I sleep with 4 times a week (on average) and then we go about our separate lives in our separate apartments.  Maybe that is what dating is, but I want this with no pressure to progress any further (at least at this moment).  I like my life.  I'm not ready to get married or move in or have rules, limits or expectations put on me.  Who knows, maybe this is because I haven't met the right guy (or because it's "rainy season", so I'm not feeling particularly sexual). And we all know that as soon I meet a guy, I'll be planning the wedding in seconds.  I really wish that I could figure out how to turn off Girl Brain and just stay in this awesome state of appreciation for my independent life.  Maybe this would prevent me from turning all weird when faced with a potential mate.  And really, I'm pretty awesome (trust me, I spend a lot of time with my self)!  There is no reason that a man should not want to be with me, but when I meet one I'm attracted to, suddenly my brain turns to mush and I can't behave like a regular human being anymore.  Hopefully, this year will help me tame my Girl Brain enough that I can function around attractive men.  But, if not, I am considering a career as a professional crazy cat lady.  I'm on my way...  

Sunday 20 October 2013


This week in therapy we began to delve into the world of “Daddy Issues”.  Like most girls/people, I have unresolved issue with my father and my therapist, like the jerk that she is (just kidding, I love her!  She is amazing!!!!), is making me face them and deal with them – the nerve!

As you may know from my profile in The Subject, I had my first contact with my father when I was 11 years old.  Up to that point, he had been a fantasy in my mind.  I thought about him constantly as a child.  He didn’t come up much, but I knew a little about him.  I knew that he had a new family and I had three brothers.  He lived in Ontario, but not close enough to visit easily (especially without a car).  He was born in New Brunswick and met my mother in Oshawa, where they both worked.  We kept in touch with his mother and she always sent very nice letters and Christmas cards.  Though I never met her in person, she never forgot about me and I felt such warmth and love whenever I received something from her.  I was her granddaughter and I was important to her.

Wednesday 9 October 2013


Okay, so girl brain is on overload. My brain has exploded into a frenzy of activity and I feel like I have Dustin Hoffman in Rain Man living up there - he likes me, definitely, definitely likes me. "But whom?" - you may be asking yourself. And also, if you haven't already thought it, you should: what do you care if a guy likes you, aren't you on a year without sex? All very good questions. I've started a new job (remember, I'm a private contractor, I start new jobs a lot) and there happens to be a man there that is particularly attractive (in the handsome but dorky sort of way to which I find myself particularly drawn). At first I didn't take too much notice, but after a couple weeks of work, I feel like he might be flirting(?) / interested(?), oh, who knows?! I do know that every time I glance his way, he is staring back, and in my classic fashion, I get all flustered, blush and turn away. Yes, because I can't talk/interact/or even look at cute men. BUT... I'm on a year without sex and that is supposed to fix this.  Well, turns out, that habit is much harder to break than expected. I'm also nearing the 2 months mark, which, if you refer to my Hypothesis, is my forecast breaking point (do I know myself or what?!). 

Monday 7 October 2013


Wow! Time just flew by while working out of town. In Week #2, I mentioned that my partner had to leave the contract we were working on and I was alone in Wonderland... well, that was the truth. Weeks 3-7 were quite the ride, so much so that I barely had a moment to catch my breath, let alone write. I was essentially on call 24 hours a day and up until the very last moment fires were blazing all around me. 

I had executives getting sick, storming out of meetings and leaving the contract early, continuous training of replacements while trying to get the contract completed on schedule, difficult clients with unrealistic expectations and finally (or so I thought) the woman who was the lead presenter on the project got into a spat with one of the executives and decided to leave before the final presentation. Awful! Then... then, with 10 minutes left in the final presentation (so close to being free and clear of the woes of Wonderland), then I get a text that one of my friends (actually, a friend of The Local that I had been hanging out with over the 5 weeks I was up there), well, he had died that night in a freak accident. I had just hung out with him on Tuesday. This was Thursday. Devastation. I needed to go home.

Tuesday 1 October 2013


So it has officially been over 2 months and this evening at midnight the countdown clock will turn over to 299 days to go!!!!  It's finally almost here!!!  I don't need to look at 300+ days anymore.  My therapist was asking me today "why is this switch so important" and I don't think I could give her a truly convincing reply.  It's just that 300+ days seems like too little time has passed (when it feels like such a long time).  It is too close to the start.  Less than 300 seems like progress.  I'm gaining distance and moving towards the end goal.  65 days in!  I was talking about the process with Kryptonite this week (yes, I'm still pretending that we can be just friends) and he commented on how it seemed like it had been so much longer.  Thanks!  I hadn't noticed.  It feels like it has been years already, but alas, it has only been 2 months.  *sigh*  The itch is starting...  oh goodness!  THE ITCH!!!


Well, it’s been quite the ride so far.  It was a crazy week.  I think the new theme of this year is “even if I wanted to, I don’t have a second to think about sex.”  It’s making the transition much easier.  (Though, I do acknowledge that it is only week 2 – hardly anything to sneeze at yet!)

I’m still really liking the whole not dating thing.  It’s really fulfilling in an unexpected way.  I just never need to concern myself with what a partner might be thinking or feeling.  After 31 years of having my Girl Brain running at full tilt, it’s nice to give it a vacation.  The level of crazy has also decreased and I’m more able to let the crazy of other roll off my back. 

Now, to totally contradict myself, there were nights this week that a nice friendly stress-release sexual encounter would not have gone amiss.  My partner at work had a family emergency out of the country that took her away for the rest of the contract this past Thursday.  That was a rough day.  I felt terribly alone knowing she was gone.  Most of the week was spent doing damage control and looking for a replacement (the project is way too big to do on my own).  We managed to find someone to come in and cover the first 5 days and then another to cover the last 2.5 weeks.  Though we found fantastic people to come in, it was not the same.  My partner and I had done this contract together before and know the pitfalls, as well, we work incredibly well together.  When she left, I had to step into her role, but still cover most of my own.  She usually takes on the more hands on parts of the project and I deal with all the back-office things.  It was quite the blow to have her leave.  Not to mention how heart wrenching it was to watch her suffering the last few days she was here, frantically trying to prepare enough so I wouldn’t be left in a lurch, when she should have been with her family.  All-in-all, it was very emotionally draining for all of us.  And then I was alone and in charge of Wonderland (or at least that’s what it feels like). 

Monday 30 September 2013

"Why Generation Y Yuppies are Unhappy" - HUFFINGTON POST ARTICLE

Recently in therapy, I have been tackling my feelings of anger towards the idea of "entitlement".  At one session, I was discussing my feelings of anxiety regarding an upcoming wedding I had to attend.  I have always had mixed emotions when it comes to weddings.  I love celebrating my friends and having a great time, but on many occasion, I end up crying (and not tears of joy).  The anxiety stems from a deep-rooted sense of jealousy.  Jealousy that these people have found someone who is willing to say to them "I love you so much, I want to spend the rest of my life with you even through the worst times because there is no one I could ever love more."  Just typing that, I felt my gag reflex pulsing.  Apparently, the shield that protects the world from my anger and bitterness is weakest at the point that weddings come into conversation.

I've never had someone who loves me so much they want to spend the rest of their life with me.  Even the love of my parents was conditional.  My father was never a presence in my life and my mother, due to her illness, could flip from loving to hating in a matter of seconds without reason or warning.  It is hard to live without anyone putting you first in their lives and it leaves a burning hole inside - the desire to be loved unconditionally becomes a desperate obsession.  So, weddings are a trigger for me, as is the word "entitlement".  Having spent my entire life working for every last thing I have, it frustrates me when others think they deserve... well, just about anything - or are "entitled" to love and happiness.  I know this stems from a belief that I am not deserving of anything; hence the ugly jealousy monster rears its head.

I've been working on improving my idea of entitlement and what it actually means in my life.  My goal over the past couple weeks has been to make peace with that word and start taking ownership of the things to which I am entitled.  It's a hard road.  My therapist (much to my chagrin) has made me write the word on the blackboard in my apartment, so I see it every time I turn around.  Pretty hard to repress and ignore the emotions that it brings up when it is haunting your every move.  The only option is to deal with them.

Overall, it is going well and I am starting develop my own sense of entitlement; in the way that I am entitled to be hurt and express that hurt, I am entitled to be treated fairly in my job and not work myself to death for other people's benefit, I am entitled to speak and be heard, to stand and be seen.  These may sound like simple things, but after spending my life trying to make peace and putting the feelings of others before my own, it is quite remarkable to assert that I am deserving of equal consideration.  It is really very freeing.

The day after I started on this journey to entitlement, I came across this article from the Huffington Post that pretty much describes my frustrations with a lot of the people in my generation.  My upbringing more closely resembles that of the people in my parents' generation, so I often feel distant or out of place with those Gen Y kids who have been raised with a heightened sense of entitlement.  (And why it makes my blood boil when someone thinks that they are special without any of the hard work to prove it!) Check out the article and let me know what you think!  What are your experiences with entitlement?


Sunday 8 September 2013


It has been really hard to look at this blog because every time I do I get a little depressed.  I've been at this for 6 whole weeks now (yes, 6 WEEKS!!) and then I go to view the blog to make sure everything is functioning as it should and I see that the clock still has a 3 in front of the number of days left (and it is not 30!).  I haven't even reached 299 days - there is still so much longer to go.  *SIGH*  I'm really looking forward to the day that there is a 2 in front.  I feel it will make the whole idea a little easier to swallow (Ha!  Would have made a sex joke about swallowing here, but I'm not doing that this year. :P).

Anyhoo, that's my lament... cue: world's smallest violin to play me out.  Go!


For the first time in this experiment, I felt the pang of loneliness creep in.  So far, I’ve been feeling really great about not seeking any romantic interest.  I’ve had an amazing time and developed some really great relationships.  Tonight, though...  Tonight I was grocery shopping and apparently that is the “it” thing to do on a Sunday night if you are in a couple.  The store was filled with cute 20-30 something couples in their finest Lulu scrubs walking up and down the aisles hand in hand.  I felt very out of place suddenly.  Everywhere I turned there was another couple discussing meals for the coming week or which peanut butter they should get (the eternal relationship debate: crunchy or smooth?).  Here I was, all on my own.  No one told me that it was couples hour!

Tuesday 13 August 2013


You know those times when you are travelling for work and you have to have someone come watch your house and your cat?  Well, this happened in my life recently.  I was packing and, since I'm not having sex for a year, made sure to bring a variety of vibrators with me (I tried to think of joke about vibrators being more "hand"y, but failed.  Sorry!).  So, while I was unpacking my bag at my new accommodation, I realized that my little pocket vibrator was not in my bag.  I remember taking it out of the cupboard, which led me to believe that I left it on the kitchen counter at home.  What a surprise that would be for my lovely house-sitter!

But, good fortune found me and it turned out that I had simply packed it with my feminine care products (rationale being that they all take care of the same place).  A big sigh of relief this morning!  I would have felt so bad for my friend. There is nothing more awkward than watching someone's house for a month only to find their vibrator decorating the kitchen counter.  Appetizing!

Friday 9 August 2013


Well, I’ve survived the first week!  Woo-hoo!  But, really... let’s save the celebration.  Even when I’ve been in relationships, I’ve gone more than a week, so it’s not really that big an accomplishment, except when you consider my natural reaction to have a random sexual encounter to make myself feel better after ending a relationship (or fling, we’re calling it a fling... hrumph!).

Luckily, I have been swamped with work this past week with hardly a moment to even think about writing, let alone sex.  Though, opportunity has presented itself.  I’m in town for no less than 48 hours before I happen across some very attractive eligible men who happen to be building a cottage in the area - *swoon*.  I happen to have a weakness for men who can build things – hence Kryptonite.  So, I get chatting with these locals and we hit it off.  Anyhoo, the night ends with a bunch of us drinking in the park until all hours of the morning.  Eek!  I did make it home safely and did not even crack by giving any of these attractive men a smooch.  The gentleman who I was most attracted to (henceforth referred to as “The Local”) has a girlfriend (ooo!  emotionally unavailable – of course! It’s like I have special radar).  Despite this fact, he has not seen his girlfriend in about 6 months and seemed rather excited about the prospect of another lady in town.  Thankfully for me, this is as much information as I need to keep The Local at arm’s length. 

What I have learned this week is that I’m worth way more than someone’s side candy.  That just isn’t going to fly with me anymore.  It’s amazing what can happen when you start acting with your head instead of your vagina (yes, boys, a girl’s brain can be controlled by her carnal urges as well).  It’s just not worth it.  I’ve been there.  At the end of the day, you end up walking home feeling gross and slightly worse about yourself.  Then you want to do it all over again to feel better, but it never works and you never learn. 

Wednesday 7 August 2013


Panic and terror would best describe the nervous anticipation I was feeling before the start of this experiment.  (I’ve been writing this post in my mind for nearly a week now, but have yet to have the time to sit at the computer to write it, so it is now in the past tense as the experiment has started – sorry, I was caught off guard with how quickly time was moving). 

Originally, this experiment was supposed to start on my birthday in June, but due to variety of circumstances... well, one particular circumstance, I chose to postpone until July 29, 2013.  That circumstance was the fact that I had begun a “friends with benefits” type relationship with a friend that had recently become single after many years.  It was great, though he (obviously) was completely emotionally unavailable (Hey!  That sounds like every guy I ever date!).  Used to being in a relationship, much of his behaviour was very boyfriend-y (and he is very good at being a boyfriend), which, from the “girlfriend-stand-in” perspective, can be very misleading and throughout the... oh, let’s call it a fling... throughout the fling, I needed a number of check-ins to keep my head on straight about where we were going. 

Early into the fling, I had told... let’s call him Kryptonite (because I seem to lose all my power of self-control around him)... about this experiment and he was very supportive but suggested that I perhaps change my start date until after the week-long vacation we had planned.  Well, that happened to be only a couple weeks before I left town for a month for work, so I decided being out of stalking range might be the best time to make a clean break, hence the July 29 start date.

Monday 22 July 2013


Despite having other things written, I felt strongly that this should be my first post for this blog.

In the lead up to taking this year “off”, I have discussed my decision with many friends and the most consistent question has been “what if you meet the man of your dreams?” 

“What if, what if what if...” - What if purple monkeys fly out of my butt?!

Living life for the possibility of “what if” is the same as living in fear.  If I make this choice, what if I miss something better? So, you sit around not making any choices and miss out on all kinds of amazing adventures that are happening right now.  What if I miss out on my dreams because I’m waiting for ‘the one’?  There is a always a ‘what if’ to worry about.