The Child.

I am not a girl who has ever dated boys; that is what I call men younger than me either emotionally or in actual years. So pretty much everyone. I never even entertained the idea of younger men, that was until Nate. In high school, I dated at least two grades above mine and now it has been as much as a decade and a half at times. Nate was the first guy who ever sparked even a consideration in my mind.

We met at a wine dinner. I arrived at the wine dinner wearing my favorite Beetlejuice jeans (they are wide black and white stripes) and black silk tank top paired with silver pumps that I was obsessed with at the time. I took a friend with me, older gay gentleman, a girl can never risk taking an actual date to this type of event. Friends from Napa were hosting the event, and I was excited to see them. When I arrived at dinner, I heard him before I actually saw him; the accent. In reality I think almost all accents are sexy, except Scottish- then I just feel like I am being spit on. He was an Aussie, and when I turned around, I quickly discovered his face was sexier than his voice. Actually that isn’t true, he was pretty, a younger version of handsome but the combination of the face, accent, and attitude- he was nothing but sexy. My sly girlfriend Mikenna had done the seating, and she sat us across from each other so we could chat. At the end of the night, he slid his receipt across the table. I was slightly confused until I turned it over and discovered his phone number. Right then and there I should have guessed he was a baby, no real man would give me his number, they would ask for mine- but I liked his style.

I tucked his number into my pocket and started plotting how I would contact him. Clearly I wasn’t a gal who is afraid to make the first move, and it made me feel in control… which of course I like. I text him the next day saying it was nice to meet him and picking a point of our conversation from the night before to mention.

“I look forward to an adventure with you in the near future.”

While we were at dinner the group around us started talking about dating in LA, basically how awful it is. He made a point to say that he was done planning dates and only planned adventures. That statement confirmed what I already knew; he wasn’t a dinner and movie typical type of guy. He quickly wrote back that he also looked forward to our first adventure. We then discovered that our schedules would prevent this from happening for at least a few weeks. It was worth the wait.

I had played everything super cool but when it came to the night we were supposed to meet up, I was a nervous wreck. Jack was at my place helping me get dressed, of course. I decided on a flat shoe, so not to appear as one of those girls. We, Jack and I, decided on my J.Crew navy and white summer linen dress that was the perfect length of short and the perfect amount of cleavage. We paired those with my gold Stuart Weitzman gladiator sandals and a classic denim jacket. I was pleased with the look, I couldn’t remember the last time I went on a date without wearing heels.

I had no idea what the date would be, but I never thought it would be as much as it was. We started on the rooftop of building to watch the sunset and drink a bottle of wine he had brought. We continued on to sushi, bowling at a party where his friends were and then back to his place. It might be the best first date I have ever been on. When we got back to his place, we decided to turn on some music, pour a drink, and do a few yoga poses. Nate was the kind of guy that American men, at least where I grew up, are embarrassed to be. Yoga, gourmet food, un-matching colorful socks, loafers, talks about his feelings and wear a speedo when he swims. Above all, he was sexy, the type of sexy that made me feel sexy. As our yoga session began, I found it much more difficult to keep my balance after our night of continuous cocktails. It was about this time I convinced myself it had nothing to do with my intoxicated levels but everything to do with my restricting dress. Lucky for me Nate had an easy solution… I should just take it off. Being the gentleman that he was, he decided to take his pants off as well. That way it wouldn’t be awkward for me. Great Idea!

After our naked yoga and a good make-out session, I had enough wits about me to go home. I called an Uber and headed back to my place. I really liked him, and I knew if that was the case then I needed to slow myself down a step- I guess you can teach an old dog new tricks!

Nate and I would continue to play tag. He would call me, and I wouldn’t be available. I would text him, and he would be working. Finally, we found a night to have date number two. This time it would be dinner with his roommate at a new organic café that had just opened. I loved that he even knew about a place like that- this is what I needed in a guy. I noticed that his friend was young… like really young. This made me again question how old Nate was. When he mentioned that his roommate had just graduated law school an alarm in my head went off. What does that make him, 23, 24, 25 maybe, I thought to myself. Nate could be a few years older, SHIT he is under 30 for sure! My next thought was, Keylee… what the fuck are you doing?

Single & Stylish,

xx Keylee

 

*All of the events I have written about in the above and previous posts are about me, my life, my experiences and from my point of view.

© Keylee Sanders, Style Studio LLC and KeyleeStyle.com, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Keylee Sanders, Style Studio LLC and KeyleeStyle.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

I Wanted Him To Leave Me.

I soon found myself in a grey area, nothing was black or white, just grey and I was more confused than ever.  I was continually bumping into friends that would ask me about my “breakup” and when I gave them just the minimal amount of information needed they would say some version of this; “OMG, I know exactly how you feel, my boyfriend/ husband/wife/ girlfriend cheated on me too!”   Is that what happened?  Was I cheated on?  I had been cheated on before and this is not what that felt like.  In high school my football player boyfriend was cheating on me with one of my good girlfriends and then in college my boyfriends phone accidentally picked up in his pocket and I could hear him making out with another girl.  That was gut wrenching,  each time I ate a bag of potato chips drank too many vodka soda’s and cried with my girlfriends for a week.  That was not what this was.  No amount of chips or vodka was going to fix this.  This felt like I had been ripped apart limb from limb by some medieval torture device and left in the middle of the highway to bleed to death.   I was not, am not, trying to minimize anyone else’s story, being cheated on is awful, horrible, and should be punished by the removal of genitals using only cuticle clippers, but cheating?  That what not what this was.

From my journal:

“Confusion- it’s all I feel.  My head and heart say two different things.  My head knows I can never go back to him and my heart yearns for the life we had and the life I had in my mind.  I am taking it day by day and some days I don’t know if I will make it.  Some days I feel strong, but most all days I am sad.  Sad about the life that won’t be, sad that he is hurting, sad that I am so broken, sad that I assumed things that I don’t know if they are true and then I feel rage.  Rage that I am in this place, rage at myself for not seeing what was in front of me.  I want to hate him, I want him to leave me- that would be easier.”

It was true and I still feel that way.  I wanted him to leave me.   Tell me that he was madly in love with Katy and ride off into the sunset with her. That way I would at least know that someone would be happy, someone would be getting what they wanted and all of this hurt and pain would have had some purpose!  That was not at all what happened, instead it was like a bomb exploded and as I looked around I saw nothing but total destruction of my life.  Everyone was in pain.  For some reason seeing him in pain was one of the hardest parts.  I hadn’t hit the anger stage yet and knowing that he was hurting, even half as much as I was, killed me.  I wanted to hate him, but I didn’t’ want him to hurt.

Having been in LA a week or so I headed back to the mountains to see friends, after a lot of late nights partying and a lot of fun I woke up one day and knew I had to get back to LA and start my life.   I had avoided being a grown for as long as I could.   I had decided I needed to move out of my friends place and try and stand on my own two feet.  I had nothing stable in my life; no work, no home and no relationship.  I was at a tipping point and I knew what I needed to do.  I had to make something in my life stable.  Each time I ran into an old friend in LA they always asked how they could help.  Ninety-nine percent of the time I smiled my fake smile and said “oh nothing, thank you so much for offering, I will be fine.”  When I ran into a friend who was a fabulous Beverly Hills real estate agent at the gym one day and I decided to ask for help.  Soon we were looking at apartments and I started to feel like I could see a small speck of light at the end of a very long dark tunnel.

With in two days I found a fantastic little place in West Hollywood that made me feel like I was living in a hotel suite (my secret dream in life)!  It was a mid-century building and my tiny little slice of heaven over looked the pool surrounded by palm trees. It was a dream.  I could feel myself starting to be a tiny bit settled and that was a wonderful thing.  I didn’t really have much to move; clothes, jewelry and personal items mostly. I asked my husband for my couch and bed that we had moved into the Santa Barbara house when we moved to San Francisco.  He agreed and then proceeded to send the couch and bed to me in an open air pickup truck with two delivery men, my white velvet couch and mattress riding down the highway gathering who knows what!  I was livid but decided it was easier to have them cleaned then to make a big deal about it.  I was just happy and thankful to have furniture.

The next week I made the always-dreaded trip to Bed, Bath and Beyond.   When you had a cart as loaded as mine it was like a large blinking neon sign with an arrow, She’s Starting Over.   As I was standing there picking out a silverware tray for my kitchen drawer it hit me.   It was like that book title that Charlotte, from Sex and The City, is too scared to buy standing in Barnes and Noble; Starting Over Yet Again.  I looked around, surly I wasn’t the only one going through this it’s LA, people start over all the time!   As I looked around to find someone to give me even the slightest bit of comfort I found that on one side was a happy couple registering for there wedding and the other was a beautiful pregnant lady picking out new placemats in spring colors and then there was me… starting over yet again.   We had been separated for months, how is this whole thing still shocking to me?  Somehow it was.  Somehow I had to figure out how to face it all and I would, but that moment was not the moment I was going to face it all with grace.  I started to get choked up, soon my eye were burning.  I knew what was going to happen, I was going to loose it at any moment and their was nothing I could do.  I really needed the items I had in my cart but I could feel the waterworks building up and I could tell it was going to be a hell of a show.  It was like I needed to wear a sign pinned to my shirt so people didn’t think I was just a crazy lady crying in silverware aisle.   It would read “Don’t worry, I am fine, just crying because my husband has a double life.”  But I didn’t have that sign and I was about to be the crazy lady crying in the silverware aisle, before I knew it I was pulling out my sunglasses and ditching my cart practically running to my car.  I sat in my car for about 10 minutes and cried, finally I pulled it together, kept my sunglasses on and went back to find my cart right where I left it!  God bless lazy retail workers that felt no need to put my items back!  Victory!  I had managed to get everything I needed.  Once I got everything packed into my car, I cried the whole way home.

That day was a tiny step in a forward direction.  I knew it was small but it was all I had.  I went home, unloaded my car by myself and sat on my dirty white velvet couch, opened a bottle of wine and ordered Chinese take out.   As I finally fell asleep I repeated over and over in my head; tomorrow will be a better day, tomorrow will be a better day, tomorrow will be a better day…

Single & Stylish,

xx Keylee

The good news about starting over is that you can decorate your new place anyway you like, dirty white couch and all!  Here are a few fun spring items for your home!

 

*All of the events I have written about in the above and previous posts are about me, my life and my experiences.

© Keylee Sanders, Style Studio LLC and KeyleeStyle.com, 2014. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Keylee Sanders, Style Studio LLC and KeyleeStyle.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Single Lady Needs.

Two years.  Two years and three days ago my life changed forever!  In an instant I knew it would never be the same, I walked out of my house and never looked back.  Everything would change; who I was, what I thought about life, who I trusted, what my future would be, how I looked to myself in the mirror and most obvious of all- my martial status changed. I was suddenly a single girl in her mid- thirties… great, just what the world needed, another one!

I could go on and on about what has happened in my life over the last two years; the tears, the late nights fueled by friends and endless bottles of wine, the courtroom drama, the hours of therapy, the adventures and travels, the men, the piles of gifts, the other men, the high points, the low points, the anger, the euphoric joy of knowing I would survive, life would go on and I would not spend the rest of my life living a lie- I refused, no matter how bad it hurt in that moment.  When I re-entered the dating world, or more accurately jumped in head first with barely enough water in the pool, I thought “how hard could this be, I have dated before?”  Wow, was I wrong.  Yes, I had been single and dated before but never had I been single, dating, and in my mid-thirties.  The world had changed while I was in a relationship and married (though not really that much changed when I was married considering it was only 4 months).  Once I was settled back in LA was quickly convinced that when Pat Benatar wrote Love Is A Battlefield she was talking about dating in LA.

Most men are douche bags, just a fact not trying to be mean, or they are man children disguised as a what appears to the naked eye as a real gown up man but trust me … they are not.   Though the minefield of men in LA (and around the globe, yes the globe) has taught me a few things and one is that every single girl, of any age, needs to have a tool kit for herself.  No, not sexy toys (well yes, those are helpful but not what I am talking about in this post) but things in her life that make her feel good about herself, pretty and sexy because no man is needed for that!

These things will help you look better, feel better, and in the end don’t forget to write it all down!  Just think of how much fun your great grandchildren will have reading about your adventures, I know mine will!

 

If you know me, you know that I do not discuss my personal life often. This is the start of a new chapter, a two year mark… sort of a birthday. So eventually more of the story will come out, stay tuned for the many adventures… trust me they are worth it! I will tell you now that names will be changed to protect the not so innocent!

Single and Stylish.
xx kss