It's Not Me. It's You.

“I haven’t heard from you in two weeks, so I’ve made other plans.”

It’s no secret to anyone who has even a passing acquaintance with me that I’ve changed a little in the last seven years. I’d like to think that it could be described as the natural evolution that one might expect when the rug is unceremoniously – and traumatically – pulled out from under you. And I think you could even agree that while it was, yes, forced upon me, equal parts have been specifically introduced and shaped by me because the person I was seven years ago is not the person telling the story you’ve been following.

Let’s compare Subject A to Subject B, shall we?

Subject A was loyal to her own fault and let everything and everyone else take priority. Subject B is loyal to her own fault and can’t seem to stop letting everyone and everything else take priority.

I know, you’re thinking perhaps my glass might be a little too full of red as my fingers dance across the keyboard. Because Subject A seems remarkably like … Subject B.

Hang on. We’re almost there!

I’m still loyal to my own fault, yes, but if I decide to give you that loyalty I demand much more in return. I’m still and eternally will be prone to putting everyone and everything else ahead of my own wants, feverishly plotting how to get from A to B with stops at X, Y and Z in between to make sure Things 1 and 2 taste what life has to offer. But while I bend and give far more latitude than some would, I expect far more. If I let you in, it’s because you said you could and showed me that you would. And because I believe that you will. And as utterly and stereotypically female as this is … you just don’t disappear and leave me hanging.

I’ve been off and on the market for seven years. And my patience has expired. Yet here I am again, searching for the perfect fit.

“Kids … we’re going to need to get a new nanny.”

“Is it because she didn’t call you back?”