No Love, Marriage, or Baby.

Parents and family have this way of looking at you that the world does not. I wonder if they realize this? They’ve known me for 30 years–all of them. So they know the good stuff, the even better stuff, and the embarrassing tidbits best thrown in the fire. They know it all as they see it, but not the world. The world sees me differently. You know, I learned this at an early age. I keep learning about it, despite all these messages about everyone being beautiful in their own way on top of it. To make matters slightly worse, I’ve got a dad who wants grandkids, a paternal aunt who wonders why none of us Millennial-generation intermediate fam have any, and both of them “wondering why I haven’t found someone yet”, as if it’s so easy.

When my dad said to me “you should flirt more”, I said to myself “to whom, and how?!”

Yesterday he said this. I’m on the floor, holding my cell to my ear, playing with my Chinese Zodiac carved figurine just thinking to myself how that would go. I am a pear-shaped, bear-sized woman with poofy hair and a wide-set baby face. Romantic prospects come and go. Crushes crash and burn faster than I can redial to tell them how I feel. Attention is short-lived, and to be honest–sometimes people just would much rather have an ego boost/second mother than an actual partner.

I almost want to tell both of these nutty boomers that this is not the 70’s. Finding a partner these days is so complicated. Not because of hookups or anything like that–we all know that’s a part of any scene at any time–but it’s hard to find a compatible person to be satisfied with. I don’t want a perfect person. I don’t need that. But for me, personally– I can’t relate to all these other people who are cute enough to date and get laid. People just…drop me.

Or forget me.

Or go back to their exes.

Or come through whenever the people higher on their list/SIM Card won’t pay attention.

Or lowkey like me, but can’t highkey adore me for whatever reason.

When they need a mothering loser, who are they coming for? Veronica Rochelle.

I have had people say they love me and they’re coming for me. I have had people say they want to get to know me on a metaphysical level. In a naughtier space, I have been told they were fans, but actions make it seem so…untrue? I have heard a lot, and seen so little.

So let me be honest here–the man I wanted to be with didn’t want to be with me. The man I wanted a life with is probably very happy, very married/taken, and has forgotten about the young asshole I used to be, and never got the chance to meet the older…sorta okayish person I turned out to be. HE was what I wanted, but it just wasn’t meant to be. So, okay I can accept that. Time to move on.

I’ve….been ready to for years. And I can feel it when people avoid me. You know? That sounds like such an odd thing to say. But it almost feels like all the parts of my life that I want to happen tend to reach out to other people I know. And who knows how they met that person? I go places and nothing really comes of it. I probably doomed myself by moving to this town full of married, young, or old people–despite claims that “big girls get lots of love here.”



And that’s also another problem. Granted a certain leg of my work tends to deal with big girl admiration and appreciation, I would like to have a life outside of that where I can be found beautiful not for my size, but because somebody sees something they would like to become a part of–not for simple one sided pleasure alone–but the kind of healthy partnership where love can flourish, and a life can progress.

Maybe that’s asking for the moon.

Yet I can feel the creeping sadness inside of me because of my family. I wasn’t put on this earth just to perpetuate the bloodline, but I almost feel like when they say “it would be nice”, that it’s almost my only purpose, SECOND to finally graduating college. And on top of that, I might have fertility issues that could make it impossible to have kids. I just find all of this to be so much, and rather painful.

Do these folks think I’m satisfied being alone? Do they think that I don’t hear what they say about women who’ve never been married? Then I reveal these fears, and you know what they say? “You’re just in your early 30s.”

But at the same time, the clock is ticking, right?

Can we make up our minds about this? Can we realize that the so called catch they see could just be unattractive trash to the rest of this world? The cheese has been standing alone for a while now, dipping in and out of relationships, Internet monstrosities, fwb that just fall off quietly, and a host of other short-term messes that make things seem impossible. These people–my family–have these expectations that seem pressure-free, but really make me feel like something is wrong with me.

Okay, you want grand kids. You want a great-niece or nephew. Where am I getting this baby from? Who do I have to get with to make this happen? Who’s paying for these expensive children? There are people who “love” the concept of Roni, but don’t “love” the concept of her. Even with this ol’ vulnerable bear heart, there are no open hands waiting to care for it. I may be used to being alone, untouched by lack of social activity, but it doesn’t mean I like any part of it.

Where do I even go to find someone who isn’t just trying to stick something in me before remembering my name, anyway? Dating sites have just become this cesspool of lust, and I dance between wanting the lust and a real connection. As I get older, I feel like I am leaning closer to the connection. I am tired of disconnection. I am tired of nervous handshakes saying “nice to meet you”, when in fact it’s really not.

They say that some people are meant to be alone, and I think I put up a good front of acting like I’m okay with that, sometimes. Just to stop myself from having any hopes about love. People say stop looking and it will come to you. That’s how I met…you know. And I talk about him a lot but I guess that’s because he was as close as I really got to getting what I wanted. Navigating the waters after him just….resulted in the boat sinking.

I was never good at meeting people, you know? My teen years weren’t full of dates either. I have never been cute or approachable. Ever. It’s also weird because I do identify as Bisexual, but most women (save for like..this one really adorable young lady) don’t want me either lol. This is a unisex and non-gender binary event. It’s other people, it’s me, and this hopeless fiasco of just trying to find somebody really nice.

Parents make this seems so easy, and look at you like you’re crazy when you give them the breakdown of why it’s not so hard. Nice people who could be in mutual liking and attraction with are not falling from the sky. They are not just walking up to your door with flowers, candy, and tickets to that thing you like. Parents, for some reason, just can’t understand that we are not children nervously walking into the box social for the first time. This is not the ice cream social, and little Billy Stevenson isn’t trying to share his pineapple sundae with Miss Veronica Rochelle.


I wish I could show both of these people the heartache and sadness about all this dating and romance stuff. How hard it is to see people gushing about dates and great sex and engagements and new babies….

And you’re like….

Just living.

I do not know when my turn will be. I thought I would know, and 24 is long gone, and the timeline has been shot to you-know-what since that time.

Somebody–two somebodies say “he is coming”.

And I don’t want to be that girl who sits at the front door staring and staring–but there is  a section of me that just wishes he were here already. That we could go for walks already. That we could have weekend plans already. That we could eat really bad food together, laugh about our pasts together, and connect.

When I connect with human beings, I feel rays of energy and the touch of warm skin. I feel like we are hooked together, and that tender moments don’t have to mean anything…or could mean the entire world. I have felt this way about lots of my friends online. Like, nothing sexual just human contact is nice. A hug, a friendly kiss on the forehead. But you can’t tell people you want to hold them or hold their hands without it getting weird. I don’t want to weird people out–just give affection.

That’s all I ever want to do.

Not be in empty relationships.

We can never avoid heartbreak, but I just miss connecting with someone.

In a world where none of us are sure, social pressure is on our backs, debt is an ugly thing, and the fear to let go is very here and now…I guess there are a lot of us who aren’t with someone. Or seeing someone. Or…humping someone. If it were as easy as these elders think it is/was/should be, I’d have 10 kids and that cat I want by now.

I dunno.

I repel people quite often, so….



Reflective Advice

Oh goodness, you’re about to talk about your ex, aren’t you?


But it has a point.

So, my dad is telling me about a conversation he had with an old neighbor of ours about losing a spouse, and having to make a choice about either staying in that space, or unlocking yourself to continue living your life. In a moment of deep open-ness, my dad told me why he moved from our first house to the second one. He told me that mom’s energy was all over the house, and he couldn’t continue living there or attempting to move on and bring company there. Since it was something they both worked hard to get, he says it just hurt him to stay there. He could feel her/see her shadow at the doorway, watching him. He told me that it wasn’t anything scary or malicious, but he just felt like he’d never be able to move on until he got a fresh start somewhere else. So, we moved in March or April of 1989 into our new house.

Now, it’s been years since we’ve lived there. We moved in with grandma about 10 years ago, and remained when she left for TN. Anyway, he was telling me about how he gave advice to our neighbor, and how suddenly the neighbor realized maybe he needed to move. His wife died about 10-11 years ago, and he’s still living in the same house. He barely uses the space, and he says he still feels married to her.

The talk with my dad was helpful, so now he’s making choices. I think that’s great. My dad is always giving somebody advice. It’s usually me, and I usually follow it to a certain extent. He does it out of the goodness of his heart. Anyway, then he lays down this one piece of reflection from the conversation that hit me like a huge rock. It made me face one of the feelings I continue to battle with to this day.

“You know, it’s hard when you want to talk to someone and be with them, and they’re just not around for you to do it. You just can’t do it, and it eats you up inside. It really hurts. You think about them, you love them a lot, you want to be with them, and you can’t…”

Aw. Aw Dad.

Now, the context of this has to do with losing a spouse or a loved one you hold dearly. Although I know he was leaning closer to a person who is no longer here, I felt like it could be applied to the death of a relationship. I think that’s why it made me think of…the other person. It made me think of the choices I made to keep myself from them, and to prevent them from contacting me–whether either party REALLY wanted to or not. I decided to do it for my own sanity, emotional health, and to stay drama free. There’s something about them…US…that boils my potato in all the right and wrong ways. So hours after I let that talk marinate, I found myself split between “yeah, I feel that way about them but I know having things as they are will be good for all involved…” and “dude why the hell are you taking a great moment and trying to apply it to half of a person who crushed your feelings like a grape?”

Both sides were right. Which seems so impossible, but there was good and bad in the relationship. I was young, dumb, and really entering a stage of depression I did not realize was ripping me apart. So when I decided I was too ugly and too unworthy to go out, they thought it was about them. And when I got dumped, I snapped and my lesser self came rolling out. When we got together and came apart and got together and came apart, the lessons were not learned. On top of all that, I started to become this examinate, paraonoid creature. I felt like…”hmm….maybe they don’t even want me/never wanted me in the first place. Because of my appearance, I’m available and an easy target…so…”

I mean, a lot went through my head. I wasn’t looking for craziness, or some opportunity to drag them through the mud. Or a pity party. I just felt like that reflective moment touched on the side that really missed this person. Because yes, all crappy things aside, there are moments where I wish I could talk to them. There have been moments where I wish the past could be the past, and we could just hit reset and not have pretense and agendas. Just two people, one friendship, possibly an artery clogging box of tacos.

But things that are meant to be will be. Things that are not will sail off into the night. So it bothered me, it hurt me, but it made me realize that things are just as they’re supposed to be. All that blocking of emails and forgetting of numbers and purging urges to communicate were the right thing to do. And whatever they did to purge themselves of me was the right thing for them to do. It kept happening for a reason.

It also made me think of the things I did not do. The things I wanted to say, and the affections and sentiments I wanted to put into that relationship. It was my first serious one outside of a computer, and I thought it would last forever. So in my time with them, yes, I was pretty sure I was looking at my husband. When it ended, I was brought down to Earth with a thousand wounds to lick and heal, and endless stitches to put myself back together.

I only applied dad’s words to that relationship, though. There have been others, but none of them laid such a spiritual impact. It also made me realize I wanted way too much from one person–especially trying to get that kind of “special love” my mother and father had. I was full of fear that it would never happen. That I’d never have someone genuinely love me, need me, care for me. Sometimes, the paranoid side tries to make me feel like he didn’t ever love me…I hate when she does that. I’ve been used by other people, but I don’t think he used me.

We had our time, our season, and it ended. It’s just that I dug a little special hole for that person, and well…kinda gave them their own little spot in the garden for the rest of my waking life. Which is corny and problematic, but forgetting them just can’t happen.

Oh goodness. I am a mess.

Still, I look forward to finding a new love someday. Learning from all these mistakes and giving this new person all of me without the baggage of the old me. Especially not the girl in her early 20s who had no sense of self, no sense of purpose, little drive, and allowed herself to be ashamed for being an openly sexual creature. (now when I say “open”, I don’t mean butt naked in the park just doin’ it!! I mean open enough to be a sensual little perv flower. This annoyed my ex…somewhat. I barely remember. I just recall he said “all you do is talk about sex, sex, sex, in one of his world famous, now long-forgotten emails.) She wasn’t grown yet. She was still maturing, and should have been expanding her mind, reaching higher goals, and spreading her wings. She should have never given up when things got tough. She just didn’t know how to work on turning things around.

In all of that reflection, I suppose that I realized how wrong I was about a lot of things. How…maybe the outcome would have been different, but a lesson needed to be learned. So when the right guy comes along, I will know better. When love gives me another season, I’ll make the best out of every moment. And whatever happens, I’ll have to hold on fast and true to what matters most–me.