Five Of The Letters In Depressing make Dress

  1. Are you one of those extremely mature people who can move on gracefully with your life while keeping all of the old memorabilia from your past relationships? If so, well done. Really and truly, I take my hat off to you. But if it has been a bad divorce (ahem), then your knee-jerk reaction might be to douse everything in petrol and watch it burn (that is if you have some tendencies towards arson) Or, on a smaller scale, you may be tempted to build a little fire and chuck everything into it. But destroying all of your memories is just plain silly. You should probably keep your photos, especially if you have children. You don’t have to display them around your home, but perhaps put them in a box at the back of a cupboard, or in the attic -somewhere that you won’t accidentally stumble upon them and send yourself into an unexpected emotional meltdown that day. One day your children will be thrilled that you’ve kept them. They will be able to see that at some point, there were happier times for Mommy and Daddy. You may not see it right now, but someday you and your ex could possibly even be friends again. Looking back on some old memories may just make a special moment for you both.

I still keep a photo of my children’s father in each of their bedrooms. It was a tough call deciding whether to frame them or pin them to a dartboard. Maturity won in the end. I felt it was the right thing to do for them. Well done me! Is it still a pat on the back if you pat yourself on the back?

Now, the dress! I say burn it! Okay, don’t! But give it away to somebody who will appreciate it and put it to good use. ” But it’s so pretty! ” No! Stop! I’m sure you have wonderful memories of that dress, but now  that dress may be a trigger point. Definitely don’t keep it. Five of the letters in depressing are D R E S S. Get the picture?

Personally, I have a little bit of a stickier situation than just a dress and some photographs. I’ve dealt with those: The dress is gone. The wedding photos are hidden, but I’m that girl who had her husbands initials tattooed on her body. FFS! Thank goodness they’re on my back, at the top of my spine, so I personally don’t have to see them. Nowadays, when people see my tattoo and ask: “What does that mean?” I say: “Oh, it’s the Celtic symbol for stupidity!” In fact, it’s: GS 6-8-11. I’ve had to have it lazered off – a few times so far. They say it takes two years and 12 sessions. It is excruciating – at least three times worse than having a tattoo put on.

Having anybody else’s initials tattooed on to my flesh is up there with some of the silliest things that I’ve ever done. Well, along with that one time when I wore a seriously plunging top without boob-tape and posed in a group photo (rookie error), and that one time I reversed out of my garage with the boot still open. Oh, and that time I brought a bottle of wine, that I suspected had turned, to a dinner party of 6 : Because I was aware that it was a very old bottle of wine, when the hostess handed me a poured glass, I sipped and my immediate reaction was ” ugh! I’m sorry, this wine tastes terrible, it’s definitely turned “, (I presumed it was the wine that I had brought) only to be told that she hadn’t even opened the bottle that I had brought yet. We were drinking her and her husbands wine. Mortification. Have you ever noticed that there are three shades of embarrassment that ones face can turn? – blush, red and then theres the colour that appears when the red starts to turn to a deepish purple. I turned purple. That’s the one when your blood pressure goes so high that you might as well point to your own face and acknowledge the fact that you could possibly be about to go into cardiac arrest. Ground. Open. Swallow. Me. Sorry, I digress.

I guess it’s as they say: You live and you learn. My lessons were – sometimes in life you’ve got to keep your mouth closed, you’ve gotta keep your boot closed and you’ve gotta keep your boobs covered, oh..and say no to ink! Valuable stuff I tell you. Valuable!

My tattoo is just another reminder that love is an irrational, emotional and non-negotiable feeling. Oh ‘love’, you insufferable fool.

Comments

  1. Reply

    Oh Morgs… you are as funny when writing as you are in person. He was crazy to let you get away. You are going to move mountains girl. And excellent, sage advice here. The world is a better place for your existence. Thank you!

  2. Reply

    I enjoy reading your blog. Its like a Marion Keyes novel haha! Being Irish, myself, I can actually hear your accent come through. love it!

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