Guilty As Charged
When I was younger, I had a relationship that broke my heart. Adverbs, adjectives and accolades did not do him justice. He was the perfect man. No matter how many times he showed his true colors, I was steadfast in my belief that he was perfect. I languished in my illusion (actually delusion) of his perfection. I was in love.
I didn’t know what to do. There was no expert who could guide me. No published Q & A pertinent for my situation. I searched for a plan, a guidebook, and a path to success: how I can get the storybook ending with Mr. Perfect.
Every “what not to do while dating” offense a girl can make, I embarrassingly did. I was available to him. I telephoned him. I was the one who initiated contact, demonstrating my interest as if he had doubts. Running to see him when he beckoned, accepting his last minute dates and last minute cancellations. Worse, I accepted his lies, I had no self respect. I threw myself at him. I was insane! Where were my friends when I obviously needed them? An intervention was needed but no one restrained me.
Unwilling to consider the possibility of his rejection, I changed myself to meet his requirements.
Yes, Mr. Perfect had criteria. His personal preference was models, blonde skinny models. His office walls were covered with photographs of Mr. Perfect with his choice of arm candy. It was a shrine to his ability to attract these trophy girlfriends. A medium height, curvy size eight brunette (me) didn’t seem to be a worthy enough prize for a man of with his considerable talents.
I didn’t know what to do. There was no expert who could guide me. No published Q & A pertinent for my situation. I searched for a plan, a guidebook, and a path to success: how I can get the storybook ending with Mr. Perfect.
Every “what not to do while dating” offense a girl can make, I embarrassingly did. I was available to him. I telephoned him. I was the one who initiated contact, demonstrating my interest as if he had doubts. Running to see him when he beckoned, accepting his last minute dates and last minute cancellations. Worse, I accepted his lies, I had no self respect. I threw myself at him. I was insane! Where were my friends when I obviously needed them? An intervention was needed but no one restrained me.
Unwilling to consider the possibility of his rejection, I changed myself to meet his requirements.
Yes, Mr. Perfect had criteria. His personal preference was models, blonde skinny models. His office walls were covered with photographs of Mr. Perfect with his choice of arm candy. It was a shrine to his ability to attract these trophy girlfriends. A medium height, curvy size eight brunette (me) didn’t seem to be a worthy enough prize for a man of with his considerable talents.
I tried my best to meet his standards. I dieted, exercised, groomed, and ingratiated myself into his social universe. I attempted to succeed with this game plan. But I committed the biggest sin a girl can. A don’t so whopping that I am banned from giving advice forever. A mistake so huge, there is no known recovery. This dating felony pains me even now, years later. I told him, I was in love with him.
What was wrong with me? The girl police should have come and thrown me directly into jail or a padded cell on the spot. No trial or psych evaluation was necessary.
Crimes Charged: Extreme Stupidity and whatever else is beyond.
Verdict: Guilty.
Sentence: Rejection by Mr. Perfect.
My idiocy haunted me for years. If only I had a second chance. What could (coulda, woulda, shoulda) I have done differently while staying true to myself. In my fantasies, I would still be me, but smarter. What was I thinking during this dark period of being in love? How did I permit myself to act like a fool?
One day, I looked back at my past actions, those silly schemes, attempts at change, and idealistic belief that if I loved him with a pure heart, he would love me back. I started to laugh. It was funny, very funny. Telling this story would be my second chance and shot at redemption
Reality hit me as I lay pen to paper, Mr. Perfection was my upstairs neighbor, he was The Man Upstairs. That was the original title for my book, ‘The Man Upstairs,’ but people thought it was a book about religion.
My idiocy haunted me for years. If only I had a second chance. What could (coulda, woulda, shoulda) I have done differently while staying true to myself. In my fantasies, I would still be me, but smarter. What was I thinking during this dark period of being in love? How did I permit myself to act like a fool?
One day, I looked back at my past actions, those silly schemes, attempts at change, and idealistic belief that if I loved him with a pure heart, he would love me back. I started to laugh. It was funny, very funny. Telling this story would be my second chance and shot at redemption
Reality hit me as I lay pen to paper, Mr. Perfection was my upstairs neighbor, he was The Man Upstairs. That was the original title for my book, ‘The Man Upstairs,’ but people thought it was a book about religion.
To this day, I am uncertain what was going through my pathetic naive head during that time. Maybe I wasn’t thinking properly? There are theories that posulate love affects (and obviously impairs) your cognitive thought processes. Next title was ‘What Was I Thinking?’ but people thought that was a self-help book.
My healthy curvy body, thin not emaciated, did not fit into his model sized world. I wasn’t who he wanted, whatever my size. Paroled from my romantic stupidity I realized that the intellectual/emotional connection didn’t exist between us. It is what is on your insides that counts. It’s a cliché but true. The older I get, it’s my sense of humor that gets me through the days and the nights. I love when someone makes me laugh, even if it’s me! I am a Size Eight in a Size Zero World.
My healthy curvy body, thin not emaciated, did not fit into his model sized world. I wasn’t who he wanted, whatever my size. Paroled from my romantic stupidity I realized that the intellectual/emotional connection didn’t exist between us. It is what is on your insides that counts. It’s a cliché but true. The older I get, it’s my sense of humor that gets me through the days and the nights. I love when someone makes me laugh, even if it’s me! I am a Size Eight in a Size Zero World.
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Author's Bio
Meredith Cagen is a working wife and mother living in New York City. She works as a freelance writer and registered nurse. Her family has awarded her the “Queen of the Multi-taskers” title. In her free time she goes to the gym and out to eat.
Meredith returned to school to obtain a Bachelors of Science in Nursing. Finding the subject dry, technical and boring, she had a difficult time focusing on her studies. Easily distracted, and prone to daydreaming, she wrote Size Eight in a Size Zero World.
Meet Lindsay Chandler--a 32 year-old New York City working wife and mother with old-
fashioned values who thinks she's living a fairy tale life (she's not). She's too busy navigating
between her job, husband, home, children, friends and other obligations to acknowledge her
loneliness. Then an unexpected friendship with her upstairs neighbor (he is smart, successful,
sophisticated and sexy-- she's not) unleashes her passion and re-ignites her sparkle.
fashioned values who thinks she's living a fairy tale life (she's not). She's too busy navigating
between her job, husband, home, children, friends and other obligations to acknowledge her
loneliness. Then an unexpected friendship with her upstairs neighbor (he is smart, successful,
sophisticated and sexy-- she's not) unleashes her passion and re-ignites her sparkle.
This liaison causes her to realize what she is missing. Yearning for a storybook ending, she
decides to make changes in her life, embarking on a quest for self re-invention in this hilarious,
witty, heart felt story.
decides to make changes in her life, embarking on a quest for self re-invention in this hilarious,
witty, heart felt story.
In the tradition of Sex and the City, Size Eight in a Size Zero World, is a modern-day story of a
good girl trying to do the right thing and the wrong thing simultaneously, while remaining true to
herself, whoever that is.
good girl trying to do the right thing and the wrong thing simultaneously, while remaining true to
herself, whoever that is.
With the help of a believable cast of characters, Lindsay embarks on a plan to better herself and
plight. This novel is a wickedly funny social commentary on the lives of average women in New
York City's posh Upper East Side.
plight. This novel is a wickedly funny social commentary on the lives of average women in New
York City's posh Upper East Side.
What happens when the road to happily ever after takes an unexpected detour?
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Follow Meredith on tour as she continues to talk about her book Size Eight in a Size Zero World. Meredith's next stop will be at http://lisahaseltonsinterviewsandreviews.blogspot.com on Aug. 23. Be sure to leave a comment for your chance to win a copy of her book.
Thank you so much for stopping in Meredith it has been such a pleasure. Wishing you much success in the future.
Thank you so much for stopping in Meredith it has been such a pleasure. Wishing you much success in the future.
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