Vol. 3, Post #97 An Exorcism

Ooof...some BIG ego-y truths this past week. Sex tips for girls* (*or maybe folks who are holding on to mid-life by a thread). A dating odyssey for Young Olds (people with readers).

You know those assholes who “Vaguebook” as we used to write, meaning they post something on social media that suggests unholy drama, except they don’t name names? I’m about to be that asshole.

Perhaps this can all be filed under the “new year, new me” nonsense that takes place every January, with or without the holy water^^^, but a lotta…stuff…from my past and present love life left my body and my environs last week and I feel like a whole new woman, albeit one who, once again, is perpetually surprised by human nature.

Let’s begin with how my son texted me the other day, “You’ll never guess who I had dinner with last night,” prompting me to write back, “The mind boggles…Who? Or give me a hint.”

He told me.

I texted him, “Call me immediately.”

And, OK, I’m NOT being an asshole because, as I endeavor to reveal as much as I personally goddamn please here on this page, I also endeavor to protect the privacy of anyone I write about here. Some of my pals are fine with me using their names; some of my pals who I reference here prefer an alias as they are poly, for example, and not out in their own communities. I rarely refer to any partners, lovers, or similar by their name unless that’s been OK’d and as that relates to this post, I’m saying NOTHING. So it’s not really “Vaguebooking” but rather, respect.

My son had dinner with a former partner of mine who could be considered part of the Big Four* in that this partner was one of the most important relationships that I engaged in after my divorce to his father. And, the partner in question has not been in my son’s life in any capacity following our split.

*When you Google “The Big Four,” you get any number of things, like this article on metal (hey Scott Ian!) Or, this Agatha Christie novel. Cool!

By the way, that’s something that always rubbed me the wrong way, BIG TIME. I’ve been through breakups when there have been kids in the mix and if the kids wish to stay in touch, I stay in touch. But whatever, that’s a whole other story. This partner didn’t stay in touch with my son, didn’t give him the chance to make that choice, and at dinner, I understand that amends were made for this. That makes me very happy. My son wasn’t sitting around waiting for a call, or an apology for that matter, but when it came, he was curious enough to step into it and said it was a nice evening.

So…here comes the first “The power of Christ compels you” moment. When my son and I hung up the phone, I thought, “Where’s MY apology?” I am owed one; there’s no doubt about it. My former partner said as much to my son but I’m not sure one is actually coming my way in the form of a call or a message. I guess I’ll see. Is this my ego, the wanting an apology that I deserve, or is it my residual hurt from that time of my life? Guess we’ll see about that too as I continue to think on it.

1. Next up, I wrote at the end of last week’s post that an ex-boyfriend said something idiotic about me and that it pissed me off, so I texted him and called him out. I also wrote that this was not my higher self, and in fact, since what he said about me was based around his ego, me sending him a text telling him that he is a jerk only makes ME look like a jerk, because I should’ve let it go.

Except…well, OK. I won’t get too granular on this but as I’ve since shared this ^^^ incident with some good friends, the following information has also bubbled to the surface.

1. Ex-boyfriend said this to more than one person. All of them know the real story, so that part has been a tiny bit “eye-roll” any time it’s come up. More troubling is #2, below.

2. As part of sharing this dumb-ass, ego-filled tale with some friends, a few of them have told me that the ex-boyfriend made two different women uncomfortable during the course of our relationship. THIS IS SO NOT OK. One incident was revealed to me last week, from a group of people I trust and love who confirmed they knew about it at the time it took place (I knew nothing, which is a good thing, because I would’ve lost my shit and someone might have lost a hand, or two.). It’s an understatement to say that I had a freak out about this, since, ahem, THIS IS SO NOT OK, and I spoke with that woman at length to make sure I had the facts straight. Straight as can be, alas. The other incident happened in front of my eyes; one night at the tail end of our relationship, I was embarrassed by the now ex-boyfriend and felt like I had to apologize to a woman for a dumb but inappropriate remark that he made at a party. The next day, I brought it up to him, saying that this woman felt scrutinized by him in an uncomfortable manner, telling him the broad strokes of what she told me. He didn’t quite understand what I was talking about, but since I ended things with him a week or so later, no one especially cared beyond saying “Um, that was weird.” But the two incidents, looked at together? Not weird. Creepy.

Here’s the second “The power of Christ compels you” moment. While I was EXTREMELY upset about what I learned regarding this ex’s behavior, I also decided there was no point in calling him on it. Because…well, you know. Basically, I’ve concluded that (in the words of one of my male friends who took the time to ring me up about this, for fuck’s sake) this ex is a first-class jackass and I guess I didn’t see it when we were dating. So I’m spending more time on forgiving myself for what I didn’t pick up on and less time thinking about what I’d like to say to him in anger and disgust.**

**There are some of you who are saying right now, “Well, does he read your Substack? You’re kind of calling him out on it right here, so isn’t it the same thing?” I have no idea if he reads my Substack anymore. He wasn’t as important in my life when we dated as the lesson this imparted on me after the fact, so, in the words of my dear friend Michelle from an OG post here, “Who cares?”

Next up: I went on a REALLY nice date last week. As my regular Dear Readers will remember, I’ve sort of put myself in a dating Time Out for much of the late summer, fall, and all of winter so far and it’s been completely enjoyable. And then Hinge asked me to work for them (again), so I went online and, at their behest, started poking around. I told most of the men who swiped on me, from the get-go, that I was in fact now being paid to be online, and that I wasn’t sure I wanted to really dive deep into dating at this time, but of course that I was open to being surprised.

This guy surprised me. I swiped on him, not the other way around, because I really liked his prompt (Hinge gives you “prompts” and encourages you to use them to reveal interesting tidbits about yourself to your potential date). This guy’s prompt, which was all about dorkiness, was my cup of tea — erudite, artistic, and weird. I also liked his crooked smile. We went out last week and it was an A+ date, from the convo to the kiss. And he has a shaved head, sooooo, so much for my thing about defaulting to men with a full head of hair.

This is my third “The power of Christ compels you” moment, not just because I’m retracting my previous tonsorial commitment. It’s because the date was fun, easy, sexy, and got my juices flowing again. It also doesn’t matter if we go out again. Because MORE IMPORTANTLY, I’m aware that my own odyssey around dating has truly changed for good from where I was in 2025, and I expect some very strong new guidelines to govern as I slink into 2026.

Like what, Abbe?

At the start of 2025, I ended things with a man I did not love and briefly fell back into a default with a man I did love, even though I snapped myself out of it fairly quickly and haven’t looked back (that MUST be the holy water talking because those 3+ years we spent together devouring each other were indeed almost impossible to exorcise.). Over 2025, I applied a few new men to the partnership wound that was gaping after that big love final split, thinking, “Oh, I should just date THIS kind of person, or THAT kind of person; that’s what will guide me back on track.” Only it didn’t. Not by a long shot. I mostly chose people who looked good on paper and I got instantly bored. Or, a few times, I ventured onto dead end streets with people who reminded me of several of my Big Four partnerships and thankfully smartened up before I burst into flames, like a heretic at a church picnic. Then I decided to start my delicious Time Out and now, I’m just about ready for my All In.

I mentioned ego up top, and ego runs through some of these dramas and scenarios that I sketched out. So for my next trick, as I dip a toe back into dating and as I flee 2025 like the Freeling family after they manage to get Carol Anne out of the TV set, I’ll be checking my own ego and hoping I continue to make moves that feel like the grown up I’ve become and the grown up I want to be as modern lover, circa 2026.

Oh, why not? Here ya go, Lovers…

Post-script:

At top, duh, “The Exorcist,” which my seriously fucked up parents allowed me to read at age, I dunno, 11 or 12, SAME AGE AS REGAN, THE LITTLE GIRL IN THE BOOK, which pretty much scarred me for life, to say nothing of then also allowing me to view the film as well (I mean, honestly, either they were so out to lunch that they weren’t paying attention or they were just thrilled that I was such a precocious reader. I also read all of my mother’s Sidney Sheldon and Judith Krantz novels at that age, oy). Back to Good Housekeeping Seal Of Approval in parenting…I slept with the light on for a year at least and then, at some point around 14 or 15, I made myself re-read the book to “exorcise” that fear. It’s fitting to use a movie still photo here. I’m so done with any of the shit I described above, and in getting rid of it, I’m making room for the good stuff. Oh and the hot date? Well, after making a second date and inviting me to his band gig, along with some nice chit chat, he strangely revealed this week that his emotional life is kind of like “a fort.” An emotional life like a fort? Using what I’m sure is therapy-approved language/bid to come closer, I replied “Wow, I’m so curious about that. Tell me more.” His response? He went silent for a few days. Dude, how much more of a Red Flag could you wave? Sprinkled a little holy water on him too, before I blocked his number because as mentioned, unholy drama? That’s so 2025.