He Cheated on Her.

My mother and my father divorced when I was four-years-old. At the time I suppose I was upset, but I can’t really recall the details of the moment to tell you for sure. Regardless, I have never considered myself to be a child of a broken home. I have actually always considered myself to be very lucky. My mom met an amazing man when I was five-years-old who soon became my step-father and more of a real father to me than my biological father has ever been.

I continued to affectionately call my father “daddy” several years after my parents were divorced. It took me awhile, but once I started to put the puzzle pieces together, I realized my father wasn’t the person my little girl eyes thought he was. He was selfish and manipulative. But despite my becoming acutely aware of these flaws, I never knew he was that kind of person. I never knew he cheated on my mother.

Until this past weekend.

I guess I shouldn’t have been shocked. But I couldn’t help it: I was speechless, I was disgusted.

For so many years, I’ve been trying to salvage the small resemblance of a relationship I have with my father. And now, I’m forced to ask myself why I’ve even bothered.

I already have a long list of qualities I don’t like about him. Add this to the mix? I honestly don’t know if I can find it in myself to try anymore. I don’t know if I can find it in myself to even care. I’m 21 years removed from the situation, but I feel pain as if it happened just yesterday. And I’m angry. I’m more angry with my father than I have ever been before (which is saying quite a lot). I feel pain, I feel anger, and yet I feel numb. Completely numb.

Accidental Detour.

A few days ago, as I embarked on my journey home for Christmas, I ended up taking an accidental detour into the heart of DC.

Back story: I do not drive in DC. Actually, truth be told, I do not drive in any city. I am not comfortable being behind the wheel when I am not familiar with my surroundings and when I am forced to share the road with rude, impatient, cranky drivers.

But sure enough, I took a wrong turn (or didn’t take a right turn, rather) and found myself driving into DC as opposed to driving south towards my hometown of Blacksburg, Virginia.

And, shockingly enough, I. Did. Not. Panic. Needless to say, I was quite surprised with myself. While I had to continuously refresh my maps application on my iPhone in order to get myself back on the right track, I was also somehow able to take the moment and enjoy seeing DC from a different point of view.

After several (failed) attempts at getting myself back on track, I finally made it to Constitution Avenue. And then I was in Stop and Go traffic for 2 miles before I hit 66 West. It probably took me a good 35-45 minutes to drive those 2 miles. And yet, contrary to what I would have expected of such a moment, I thoroughly enjoyed myself. The sun was hitting the monuments in the most striking way. Time stood still. Figuratively and literally. My impatience was put on hold and I found myself completely appreciating my unexpected (and quite unplanned) detour.

Making the NBA more like College.

When it comes to sports, I’m all about the college game. I didn’t even begin to expand my horizons from a sports appreciation standpoint until I lived in Boston. Now I can honestly appreciate (and even enjoy!) professional sports.

But regardless of my new sense of appreciation, I will always love college sports much, much more.

It’s simple: college sports and college athletes have more passion.

Don’t try to argue with me here. I cannot (and will not) be swayed.

I’m not saying that professional sports don’t have passion. But it’s different.

College players play for the love of the game. College players play for the love of their school, their team and their childhood dream.

On the  flip side?

Sure, professional players may play for the love of the game, but that love is usually laced with a little bit of something else. It is tainted…tainted by money and tainted by fame.

I’ve always felt this way and I most likely always will.

However, this post isn’t about that. This post is about one professional basketball player who seems to possess a few of the qualities I love in college athletes. This post is about Paul Pierce of the Boston Celtics. Disclaimer: I haven’t always been the biggest fan of Paul Pierce, however I have always respected him as the leader of my Boston Celtics.

And recently I have come to respect for so much more. This past week, Paul Pierce started blogging for Boston.com. His first post, How Boston Became My Town, really struck me.

I’ve been in an amazing position to say that I’m going to be linked 100 percent to the Boston Celtics.

To say that I’ve played with only one franchise, and accomplished what we have, it’s almost like a miracle. You don’t see that any more. You don’t see the same players staying with the same team like that. I’m a true follower of the game and only five guys have played for one team for 10-plus years, especially in the last 10. There’s Tim, Kobe, Ilgauskas, Nowitzki, and me.

You’re always going to associate Kobe with the Lakers. You’re always going to associate Timmy with San Antonio. Those guys won championships for their teams and they’ve been there their whole career.

You look around the league and see a lot of great players. You have some Hall of Famers that have been on multiple teams and you think at the end of the day, which team do they represent? And I can definitely say I am a Boston Celtic through and through. When people look back at my career they’re going to identify me with one team.

Boston is definitely home.

Paul Pierce has the kind passion and the kind of loyalty that I love about college sports. I’m sure the fame and the money certainly comes into play, but I truly respect the way he cares for his team and his city.

I know this is totally unrealistic, but I really wish that the trading component of professional sports could be eliminated. I honestly believe that it would better for the teams, the players and especially the fans. It would a create a deeper, more intense sense of pride, honor, loyalty and passion.

Progress Report: Operation FILWDC.

I was speechless.

The lights. The monuments. The moon. The reflections on the water.

Everything was so beautiful. Everything was so breathtaking.

For a half second I forgot where I was. I found myself in a state of deep appreciation and wonder.

And then, I quickly snapped back into reality. And then, I caught myself on the verge of thinking myself out of those magical feelings. And then, I let myself go again. I let myself fall even deeper into the wonderfully intoxicating feelings.

Why am I still so resistant towards falling in lust with this city? Once upon a time, I wrote about Cheating on Europe. While this post obviously discussed my feelings towards the country of Europe, it also predicted the feelings I am currently experiencing towards Boston. I find myself constantly talking about how much I love Boston, how much I miss Boston and – most importantly – how I am surprised to find that I like Washington, DC as much as I do, but that I will never love it nearly as much as I love(d) the city of Boston.

The fact of the matter is that I am starting to fall for this city (truth) and it makes me feel like I’ve left Boston behind. Granted, I have left Boston behind, at least from a literal standpoint, but a large part of me is still desperately clinging to the city that most recently captured my heart.

However, I do want to be open to a new lust – dare I say love? – affair. As I said 10 months ago, “cities are fantastic lovers.” And I’m starting to realize that DC has the potential to take me for quite a ride.

Note: Operation FILWDC stands for “Operation Fall in Love with DC,” a project (so to speak) I began shortly after I moved to our nation’s capitol. Visit Operation Fall in Love with DC to read up on the back story of the operation.

Too available.

Today someone said something to me that I have never heard someone say…at least not in reference to how I live my life.

“You are making yourself too available.”

What? I thought. No. I could never be too available.

I’m the one that is always too busy. I’m the one that is always preoccupied. I’m the one that is always making excuses. I’m the one that is always selfishly absorbed in getting enough “me” time. I am never, on the other hand, the one who can’t seem to get enough of someone else.

And so, this comment struck me in a hard and unexpected way. At first I tried to defend myself. I rambled on and on about how “this” wasn’t me and “this” was very uncharacteristic and out of the ordinary. True and true. But “this” is the situation regardless of how anti-me it seems to be.

I can do one of two things…1) I can just let go for once in my life and see how everything plays out or 2) I can do what I do best and simply force the fizzle.

I don’t like my options. I think I am virtually incapable of option #1 and option #2 doesn’t seem particularly appealing either.

I like him. Another truth. And it scares me to death. Then add a comment like “You are making yourself too available” to the equation and it discombobulates everything even further. It messes with my head. I had already decided I was done playing games, but now it seems as if I have unintentionally slipped into yet another game.

Now I can’t help but ask myself, am I making myself too available?

If the answer “yes” comes to my head for just a fraction of a second (which, let’s be honest, the very existence of this post proves that it has), I will backpedal. And if I backpedal, the likelihood of a fizzle becomes far more probable.

I don’t like my options.

I like him, I have to remind myself. So why do I allow such comments to poison my mind? Why do I allow myself to revert back to such a state of stubbornness? And why am I unable to just enjoy the moment and let things be?

I met him on my iPhone.

I have never had the desire to sign up for eHarmony or Match.com. I have never understood the fascination and curiosity that surrounds the world of online dating. I have never been able to identify with people who have chosen that method as a means of meeting people.

I’m all about the digital age, don’t get me wrong. In fact, my career pretty much revolves around it. I just feel that certain things are better left offline. And dating, for me, definitely falls into that category.

However, it seems if I have become a hypocrite. Shortly after uprooting my life in Boston and moving to Washington, DC to start fresh, I downloaded an application called Loopt Mix on my iPhone. I saw an article on Mashable (my favorite news blog site on social media) about the application and couldn’t help but be a bit curious. Honestly, it seemed kind of sketchy, but I suppose my curiosity beat out my skepticism in this case because I soon found myself chatting away with strangers who were “within 5 miles” of me.

Sure enough, my initial hypothesis was right: there were a lot of creepy guys on the application! But I soon discovered a handy block button and was able to filter out the weirdos quickly and painlessly. While I was half-tempted to delete the application within the first 48 hours of having it, I opted to stick around in hopes that it would be a good way to meet more people in the area and learn about different things that were going on. I was right. One of my “friends” noticed that I listed photography as an interest and told me about FotoWeek DC.

I soon discovered, however, that while I had the intention of using the application to meet people, I didn’t actually feel comfortable when asked to do so. Except when it came to him. After several weeks of back and forth conversation with him, I agreed to upgrade our friendship to the level of Facebook. And shortly thereafter, I agreed to meet him…in person. We no longer talk on the application where we first met, but I am fully aware of the fact that I met him on my iPhone. I really have no room left to judge people who participate in online dating. After all, what I did (am doing?) is more or less the same exact thing.

Once a cheetah always a cheater?

I’ve never followed golf and I’ve never cared too much about Tiger Woods, but for some reason the recent scandal surrounding his life has made me really sad.

He’s been in the spotlight for quite some time and he’s always managed to keep a crystal clear record. He projected perfection. Career. Fame. Fortune. Family. It was all just so perfect. Perhaps too perfect.

Regardless, it seemed real. He did nothing to make anyone believe his life was anything other than a fairy tale. He did nothing to tarnish his image. Until earlier this week.

Suddenly everything changed. Suddenly the crystal clear record shattered. Suddenly everything was different, everything was tainted.

So why am I so upset by Tiger’s unfortunate situation?

While I consider myself to be a relatively optimistic person, I find that I can also be pretty skeptical at times. Especially when it comes to people and especially when it comes to men. Ordinary people (I’m not just singling out men here) have the amazing ability to turn themselves into fantastic actors of deception. The sad fact of the matter is that people can portray themselves in any way they like. If someone wants you to believe that they are a kind, honest, trustworthy person, more likely than not, they have the ability to do so.

This is why so many relationships fail. Because somewhere along the line, the acting slips just a little and the true colors of the person start to shine through. This indirectly aligns with the theme of my previous post. Whenever my mother and I were having a discussion about the opposite sex, usually the following words of wisdom would be thrown into the conversation:

“You can’t change people. And people can’t change themselves unless they truly want to change.”

I will always have my mother to thank for instilling this powerful mindset in me. It is foolish to believe that anyone can ever really change. Sure, people can “change” all the time. But the changes that are possible are changes on the surface, changes within the context, changes due to circumstances and surroundings. Not deep changes of character.

Back to Tiger. It saddens me that Tiger, someone who is in the spotlight and under constant scrutiny, was able to maintain his image for as long as he did. It is heartbreaking that someone who seemingly has it all (and yes, I realize not everything is as it seems) still feels the need to resort to something like this. It makes me question the human condition. It leaves me little hope for the rest of us. And it proves that the acting has gotten better.

I want to have faith in people. I want to have faith in relationships. But it is becoming increasingly difficult for me to do so.

Self-Defense vs. Self-Sabotage?

For as long as I can remember my mom has always taught me that I didn’t need someone else to complete me as a person.

“Emily, you don’t need a man to make you happy.”

This lesson has been drilled into my mind since I was a tiny, innocent, curious, impressionistic 4-year-old. I didn’t fully realize the impact this seemingly simple concept had on me until recently.

I have never really been particularly good at relationships. I have always jokingly attributed my relationship issues to my selfish need for personal time and space, but I am starting to see that might not be entirely true.

I am starting to wonder if my independence is simply a means of self-defense and self-preservation. I need to be in control. I need to feel as if I have the upper hand. And I do not like being vulnerable.

Honestly, I have never had a problem with this outlook. I feel as if it has molded me into the strong and confident person that I am today. However, I also feel as if my stubbornness to remain independent and self-reliant may also act as a barrier to potential relationships.

This past weekend, my 13-year-old sister asked me an interesting question:

“Emily, have you ever even been dumped?”

For some reason, the question totally caught me off guard even though it was relevant to the conversation we were having at the time. Of course, the answer is yes. But that’s the short answer. The longer answer would consist of my explaining that yes, once upon time this little girl was the dumpee, but over the last 5, 6, even 7 years, I honestly can’t recall a time when someone else ended the “relationship.” I use the word relationship loosely here, because I can’t even remember the last time I gave a relationship a fair chance.

I am always the one to end it. Usually before it even gets started.

Sometimes it’s because I am legitimately not attracted to the person in question. Sometimes it’s because I feel smothered. And sometimes I am simply scared. So I end it. I end it before I lose control of the situation. I end it before I lose the upper hand. I end it before I become vulnerable. And I end it before I get hurt.

So now, in light of a sudden surge of self-reflection alongside a few recent events, I am questioning my sense of self and I am questioning my reasons for being so stubbornly independent. Am I really defending myself or am I subconsciously sabotaging myself and preventing myself from having a shot at a happy, healthy, semi-normal relationship?