I was talking to a mentor of mine last week about my business plans for after the Corona Virus crisis is over. While I was being very hopeful about my future, my coach asked me where was this positivity coming from.
After thinking about that question for a few hours, I came to the conclusion that it came from the year 2007. Well, not the entire year, but, something that happened during that year that crushed me. As a matter of fact, it almost destroyed me.
At that time, I was 43 and “single, never married,” as my dating app bio stated. It was a miserable time in my life — but, I was about to learn what miserable really meant.
SINGLE, NEVER MARRIED
When you’re in your forties and still “single, never married,” you start wondering about yourself — self-doubt becomes your default.
Oh, I tried dating. I asked ladies out. But, they never seemed very interested in me. Most not even accepting an offer for a first date.
To be honest, I was depressed. I just didn’t know it. But, that ongoing depression affected my work, my family, my life.
I gave up on keeping my apartment clean. I stopped looking for a place of my own. I didn’t care about my home, my car, my clothes, my appearance, my health. As a matter of fact, after what happened to me in 2007, my health took a major blow — Type 2 Diabetes. But, this life disaster wasn’t the sole cause for this health disaster.
I was.
A HOPE THAT ENDED IN DISASTER
In 2006, an old High School classmate introduced me to Mel (not her real name, changed to protect the guilty — I mean, innocent”. Mel was coming out of a tough situation in her life.
She had three kids and a husband who wouldn’t work. And, he had beaten her and her kids a few times, too.
Mel and I met a few times, and, I fell in love with her and her kids. (Probably her kids more than her, truth be known)
For about a year, we met at least twice a month. We lived about three hours apart. So, it was difficult. And, enjoyable.
Some weekends, we met in between our hometowns. Some weekends, in her hometown. A few weekends in my hometown.
Then, in May of 2007, I asked her to marry me. She said “yes.” I was so excited and elated. My life could not have been better. Little did I know what would happen just three months later.
I took a job in her hometown area, signed a contract and a lease on an apartment. I was committed, at least for a year.
Then, just four days after I moved in to the apartment and started my job, my life fell completely off the rails.
WHEN “YES” DOESN’T MEAN “YES”