Archive for April, 2011

Savannah, Georgia

This is my first vacation ever to myself.

I’ve always gone out with other people. Whether it was my mother and sister, or my aunt and grandparents, and I’ve even gone on vacation with my boyfriend turned husband. And when our son was born, I went on vacation just the 3 of us.

This is my FIRST. EVER. SOLITARY. VACATION.

Yes, its a big deal.

I am 23 years old, and I’ve never truly left the comfort of NY without the comfort of my own family.

About 2 years ago, my best friend had come to me with this crazy idea that she wanted to move to Georgia. It was just a thought, nothing set in stone. Her mother was against it, but I encouraged her to go. There comes a point in your life in where you have to be selfish, NY was not going to provide her this selfish behavior, because she would constantly be living to others expecations.

So, just like that, she moved.

She made a life for herself, and she makes me so proud of the independent, individual she has grown to be.

Every summer, and every winter holiday, she finds herself back home. And we pick up our lives as if there was never a pause between us. We spend most of our time together and with each other’s families.

Not only is this girl my best friend, she’s my sister. My entire family treats her like one of ours, and her family treats me as one of theirs.

She has bugged me to go visit her, and I always said I would go. But the truth is, I didn’t want to go without my husband. I knew if I left without him, I would not trust myself to ‘not have fun.’ So I never went. I never put myself in that situation.

When me and Harts broke up (that seems to be the repitive phrase I keep using when I speak of my ‘new’ life) I promised my best friend (wifey lol) that I would visit her. I saved up my hard earned dollars, I freed up my schedule, I made arrangements for the baby to be watched, and I booked my train ticket out of NY and into Savannah, Georgia.

So here I am. On the train: Amtrak, on my way to Georgia.

I procrastinated this day for so long. During Harts Time (DH) I would’ve packed all my shit & all of his shit into one luggage and all of our son’s shit into a duffel bag. I would’ve had this done at least a week prior to our departure. And here I was, on the day I was leaving, still not packed.

It hit me, when I dropped off my son this morning. I had a long conversation with him, and a promise that I would speak to him everyday and tears in my eyes. That’s when I realized I was leaving and I got nothing done yet.

Three loads of laundry, brand new linen for my son, two luggages, one purse on hand, newly bleach blonde hair tied in a bun, glasses (not contacts), studded earrings, and jeans & a tee later, I’m on the Amtrak train, scared out of my mind because I finally understand, I am truly alone. This trip just confirms and prepares me for that.

I will be gone for 10 days, and I plan to make the most of these 10 days. The hardest part of it all, is leaving my son for this long.

I miss my wifey sooo much, and I’m glad I’m FINALLY getting the. Chance to be with her again.

If I don’t get to update my blog during my first adventure, stay tuned for my 15hour train ride BACK to NY on May 7th.

Until Next Time NY,
Nadyne…

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No More

People seriously think I’m joking when I say I don’t want anymore kids.

Growing up I always imagine myself with two kids, they would be close at age so they would always have a friend, and I always imagine them with the same father.

I don’t want my kids to have different last names, or different holidays. I don’t want me kids to have 3 separate lives, one with me and one with each one of their other parents.

Prior to my breakup with Harts, I had explained to him that I wanted another kid asap. That if we kept being in this relationship without another kid before our son got too old, or he got too sick, I would resent him for that. And unfortunately, the tables got turned and I didn’t have another kid with him.

Truth is, that I don’t want to have 10 different baby daddys out there. I don’t want to have to share my children. Its selfish for me to think that, but so be it. I hate having to share my baby with Harts, but I do it because my son needs his father.

I’m not ready to have to share my affection with another child. I don’t want to have to split my adoration for my children depending on the days of the week that I get them. I refuse to do it.

This topic came up with my friends on fb because I was asking if I should keep my married last name, go to my maiden name, or hypenate.

My husband has a very typical, common spanish last name. And up until the day I signed my marriage license I never wanted to get rid of my last name. I always wanted it to be our last names together. I only agreed to take my husbands last name because I had already signed the birth certificate under my husband’s last name, and I wanted to have the same last name as my son. I always saw it in the eyes of when my son went to school I would always be referred to as Mrs. Whatever my son’s last name was. And instead of correcting them, it would be true that me and him had the same name.

Let me make this as clear as possible, I DID NOT TAKE MY HUSBAND’S NAME BECAUSE OF MY HUSBAND. I took my husband’s name because that is what we agreed we would name our son. Our entire marriage I still kept my last name, but only to friends. I met a lot of people who used my maiden name and forgot my married name, and I met equally as many people who never knew my maiden name.

But everyone is saying, “what happens when I have more kids.” I don’t want anymore kids.

Everyone says that I’m still young and I’ll change my mind. That ill want more kids when I’m older, or when my son is older. Truthfully, I’m not planning for anymore kids, if they come my way they will. But you bet your ass I am taking careful precaution to make sure I don’t have anymore. There are plently of people, my mother-in-law for one, who are very content in their lives with just one child. I still have my nieces and nephews that will always play a main factor in my life. But only my son has my heart.

Harts gave me the ok to change my son’s last name, so once I do that, I will legally change my name as well. As far as any future “kids”, I’ve learned my lesson, no matter how good the guy, or how good the sex, or how loyal or good of a father he is, my future “kids” will get hyphenated last names as well.

Oh,…..as I mentioned a few blogs ago, I’m not getting married again either. I do believe that I will love again, but love enough that I will legally marry you and hope for the best, nope not for me. So my name will stay my name forever more, and all my future “kids” will have my last name with whatever their father’s last name would be. After my experience with Harts, I’m not backing down as easily as I backed down with Harts.

Hopefully next time, I will no longer be “his”
TTYL
NH

My Motivation

One of the things that I have promised myself is that I will be 100% honest with my readers and mostly, with myself.

I write these blogs and then reread them later in life, to remember my feelings, to remember the person that I was to the person that I am.

I wrote one blog awhile ago about my personal appearance and how I felt about it. And now that I’m single, my appearance means more to me than ever before.

I don’t want to be the same person I was when I was with Harts. During every aspect of an individual’s life, we go thru different phases. And being the married housewife, was a phase I was going thru and now, I am the single mom.

How does my appearance and behavior reflect the newly single mom.

This is an embarrassing fact about myself. When I was with Harts, I let myself go. In every matter possible. My weight at the time of our separation, was 188lbs. I’m only 5’6 so that’s actually alot for someone my age and weight. I was battling with obscenity and I never saw it.

Within two months of our separation, I lost 15lbs. I realized that the stress of being in a marriage I no longer wanted to be in, was causing me to gain weight. I started eating right, and I started getting back in contact with friends that I’ve lost because of my relationship.

With the 15lbs lost, came so many benefits. I gained old and new friends, I gained confidence, I gained freedom from myself and became worry-free. So here I am 173lbs, with the my pants fitting me better than they have in a long time.

What do I do next?

My son’s birthday was fast approaching, I was talking to this one guy that made me feel happy but nothing serious with him it made me realize that I was beautiful to other guys other than my estranged husband, and I started to lose more weight. I bought this shirt/dress that with the right shoes and hair style, would look really nice. I was more confident than ever.

Once my son’s birthday passed, my birthday was next and I knew that I had to look and feel sexier than ever. I died my hair. I went from dark brown to almost black hair to blondish/reddish hair. I bought new contacts lens, I upgraded my makeup supply, and started watching what I ate. And there went another 9lbs.

By the time my birthday came around, I was feeling better than I have in a long ass time.

As the compliments about my new free-spirited lifestyle were gassing my head, I gained the weight again.

Let me explain how I got into this next decision. Ever since I can remember, it has always been me, my older sister and my younger cousin. My sister being the oldest, always got everything first. My cousin was the baby so she was always spoiled like crazy. And me, the “middle child” always had my weight. I was always the skinniest one out of all 3 of us.

The other day, all 3 of us are hanging out in my aunt’s bedroom, just having a girl’s day and my aunt is going thru clothes that no longer fit her. She’s asking us if we all want them. So all three of tried on the same pants, and the pants fit all three of us. The skinny person inside was screaming and crying, how did I let myself get so bad that I actually fit into the same pants as my sister and cousin. Don’t get me wrong, they’re not fat, but I have always been skinnier than them, and now, we’re all around the same. (They’re both a few inches shorter than me too.)

My mom wakes up the following day and says she’s going to the gym, so I decided, to renew my gym membership with her and my sister. I’ve been to the gym before, and it’s a great feeling taking care of myself, but you lose the motivation to go when you have no one with you.

So me and my sister, started working out together 🙂 I was so scared to step on the scale. But that’s the only way you know if you’re reaching your weight. And as I step on the scale, I move the lever to 150lbs automatically and I start fidgeting with the single lever. I pushed it to 165lbs because that was my last known weight. And it still wasnt balancing. I looked at my sister, and we both knew that meant I had to work that much harder. And finally it balanced at 167lbs. I had gained 3lbs since the last time I weighted myself. In my head, the skinny girl in me was crying again, but the 188lb girl was yelling at me reassuring me that I should never get that big again. When my sister stepped on the scale, I saw that she too was disappointed at her weight, but I was even more disappointed. Me and her are less than 10lbs apart in weight, but I am still bigger than her.

My motivation, I must be smaller than my sister.

Before it was easy to escape the fact that I gained weight, because I was always with Harts and “he loved me no matter what.” But now that I have living proof standing in front of me on a regular basis.

This is not acceptable. If anyone had asked me before what my weight was, I would have never told them, but now that I am working on it, and know that I can feel beautiful without the worry and stress of a broken marriage, I can say my weight, because I know that I will not be that weight for long.

Current Weight: 167lbs 

Goal Weight: 145lbs 

Target Loss: 22lbs

Wish me luck

Until Next Time

NH ❤