Sidebar Before Going On With "No Time For Cryin’ In Your Collard Greens"

By no means, I repeat, no means should a freshly divorced chick even try to think she is ready to start dating before the ink dries on the divorce decree. Oh, so you disagree? Seriously! Listen to your girl, Fedora C. Okay. . . alright . . . I’ll talk about me right after my divorce. After the fight of and for my life, I was an emotional and financial train wreck.

Not only that, trust was a major issue. Remember Judas in the Bible? How he betrayed Jesus after being all up among the most trusted of Jesus' homeboys? Then, kapow-yow! The betrayal came, with a kiss no less. Betrayal kapow-yow is different from regular kapow-yow, because betrayal indicates that the person who betrays you was once a dearly, trusted confidant, right? (The closer the person, the deeper the wound)

And, though not seen on the outside, the scars left by divorce kapow-yow are as real as a huge keloid after a skin injury.

Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t one of those women who claimed they never saw it coming. No, I saw it coming—the whistles were blowing, the bells were ringing, the safety gates were lowered in place. But, just because you’re standing on the track, and you see the train approaching, doesn’t mean it won’t be hugely messy when the train hits. The hurt of betrayal and the uncertainty of putting yourself out there again are very real at the beginning.

You’ll work through the uncertainty and trauma, but it would be irresponsible of you, me or anybody else to take all of THAT into a new relationship.

Enough said on the sidebar topic. Back to not cryin’ in your collard greens.

No Time For Cryin’ In Your Collard Greens—Girl, Get Your House In Order! Pt. 1

Last time we were together, I posed this seemingly logical question, “I’ve been single before, how hard could it be?” Remember that? Well, here’s the answer in two words—CRAZY HARD! (And that’s real talk.) That revelation came to me one night right after a very hard “you so stupid” slap nailed me right between my overgrown eyebrows . . . even as I moaned and groaned in my plate of collard greens.

Seriously, after talking failed, counseling crumbled, and mediation went moot . . . and the divorce deal still went down, there was no time for crying in my collard greens. It was time, with God’s help, to get my affairs in order.

(Tune in next time for Part 2)

I’ve been single before . . . How hard could it be?

More than twenty years of marriage over and done—done and done, I tell you! It took less than ten minutes total. A few canned questions by an indifferent judge and a string of assorted divorce documents flung under pens in the ready hands of my ex and me, and almost a quarter century of life as I had known it was finished. My lawyer and my ex definitely laughed all the way to the bank, as I drove away from the courthouse with a heavy heart in my chest and a light wallet in my purse—truly a hollow victory.

The next morning I recalled the apathetic final words of the judge, “I declare that you are now both single adults.”

How was that possible? I’d been a married adult all of my adult life . . . married more years than I had been single. None of that mattered now, it was a done deal. The judge said so.

I repeated to myself, “I’m now a single adult...I’m single.”

After a few moments, I asked with confidence, “I’ve been single before. How hard could it be?”

Hi, Y'all!

Your girl, Fedora C., here—throwin’ down my views and advice on mid-life singleness for us divorcees. (Or, as I like to call it, the gospel according to Fedora C.) Now, let’s get one thing straight from the get go. Your girl is not a shrink, nor am I trying to be one. If you need that kind of advice, skip my blog and check out Dr. P. If you’re not into Doc, there are hundreds of others like him to choose from, but I’m not one of them. I’m just on the single scene having fun and making a few “observations”. Aren’t you glad I cleared that up?

The other thing I’d like to clarify is what I mean when I say “single”. Small screen reality girls tend to use “single” synonymously with “no boyfriend”. For all intents and purposes, when I say “single”, I mean “without a husband” or not married. There’s a difference, my friends. Marriage is a serious level of commitment. Take a look at the marriage vows. All that talk about staying with the man in sickness and health . . . for better or worse . . . as long as you both shall live. Honey, please—you’d better pay attention to the words the preacher’s saying instead of wondering if you look cute in your wedding dress. It ain’t for play-play, it’s for real. When you go there in committing to your man, you have taken your relationship to a God level. And, it takes a sho nuff Godly commitment to promise to wash a person’s dirty drawers for the rest of your life.

Sorry, I stumbled a little off topic. Hm-m-m . . . where was I? Oh yeah--Now, hear this: Your girl has an opinion about everything . . . it is what it is—MY opinion. Good thing we live in the good ol’ U.S. of A, where it’s okay to have our own voice, right? When I speak my opinion, I’m not tryin’ to be politically correct, negate, or challenge how you choose to define anything or how you want to live your life. That’s you. This blog is about me and the other Fedora C.s of the world. Hope that point is clear . . . real clear.

Look how much we’ve accomplished in our first meeting—impressive, huh? It just gets better from here. In the next blog, find out more about Fedora C.. Until then, be blessed!

Who Is Fedora C.?

Right from the door, let me school you about Fedora C. The chick’s not for real, okay? Well, she’s for real in a manner of speaking. Fedora is actually symbolic of a class of single women just like her. So, I guess you’d call her a prototype or model.

The name “Fedora C.” tells the story behind the character, because the name is an acronym of the individual factors that make up her particular kind of singleness: (F)orty something career girl; (E)mpty nester;
(D)ivorcee; (O)ver 20 years invested in a failed marriage; (R)etro DPR (Dating Point of Reference); and (A)frican-American. The C stands for
(C)hristian and celibate.

Like most single women out there, Fedora C. is looking for that special guy. However, now that she’s sticking her toes in the waters of the post Y2K world of dating, she’s discovering that this might to be a tad more difficult than she expected. You see, taken individually, Fedora C.’s single profile is no biggie. But, when you put together the total package, you get a woman on the dating scene with an interesting challenge ahead of her. And . . . she’s blogging about it!

Don’t worry. Even if you’re not like our prototype, go ahead and read her views on singleness. Whether single or married, you’ll at least find that Fedora C. has a refreshing view of the single life and she tells it in a way that is charming, entertaining, and quite humorous.

So, without further ado, meet Fedora C. . . .