Holly Parker - Back on the Market: A Realtors Guide to Love and Life

Back on the Market

A Realtors Guide to Love and Life

2020 by Holly Parker. All rights reserved.

No part of this book shall be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, magnetic, and photographic, including photocopying, recording or by an information storage and retrieval system, without prior written permission of the publisher.

No patent liability is assumed with respect to the use of the information contained herein. Although every precaution has been taken in the preparation of this book, the publisher and author assume no responsibility for errors or omissions. Neither is any liability assumed for damages resulting from the use of the information contained herein.

Published by Forefront Books.

Cover Design by Bruce Gore, Gore Studio Inc.

Interior Design by Bill Kersey, KerseyGraphics

Jacket illustration: Anna Kozlenko / 123RF.COM

ISBN: 978-1-948677-46-2

ISBN: 978-1-948677-47-9 (eBook)

To my wonderful husband, Marc, who still loves me, even after reading this book. And to our sons Parker and Mason: we waited a long time for you. You turned our house into a home.

Dating is like real estate; the longer youre on the market, the more people are going to wonder whats wrong with you.

W HEN I WAS A LITTLE girl, my father, Artie, sat me down one day and said it was time to have a talk.

No, not that talk. Artie wanted to share his feelings about men.

Holly, men are basically shit. Women need to stand on their own two feet. If you want something in life, you have to build itthat way a man cant take it all away. Men hide, cheat, and steal. While not all men are bad, it sure is a lot harder to find a good man than it is to find a good woman. So never think a man is going to give you a life. You need to create your own life. And if, by chance, a man has given you a life, dont rely on it. He can destroy it in the blink of an eye. Men are dogs. Im ashamed to be one.

I was five years old when my father shared this advice insight scary thought. But Ive never forgotten it. Its as if he said it to me yesterday. And he would remind me of this viewpoint several times a year so I wouldnt forget to always stand my ground emotionally and financially.

Ive never been someone who believed that marriage could save me. I always thought Id be the last of my friends to bite the bullet. I wasnt a damsel in distress who needed to be rescued by a man on a white horse. I was a free spirit. I wanted to travel the world, get my masters degree, and say I do to Asia, South America, and India before saying it to a partner.

I was okay on my ownat least, thats what I told myself and God.

As the saying goes, We make plans, and God laughs.

Well, He must have been laughing His ass off when He heard my plan.

Clearly, there was another design in motionone I didnt see coming.

Although it wasnt my intention to be savednor did I make an effort of any kindI fell head over heels in love.

For a while.

In New York, a city full of princesses, Im one of the lucky few who can say I really lived the fairy-tale dream. But then, at age thirty-two, I suddenly found myself divorced after seven years of marriage. It felt as though my enchanted life had come crashing down on me.

Looking back, I cant say the split was totally unexpected. Even though I was the one to file, the harsh reality of becoming a divorce hit me hard. Somehow that was more unexpected than the breakup of my marriage. Whenever Ive read stories about people jumping in front of moving trains, Ive wondered what it takes to throw yourself onto the tracks. How much pain do you have to be in to make yourself do something like that? And now, after everything Ive been through, I think I understand how they must have felt.

Divorce is the kind of blow that takes you down with singular force. Nothing hits as hard as life. It isnt about how badly you get thwacked, its about how much you can take and keep moving forward. You must be willing to endure the pain without placing blame on anyone else. Only cowards do that, and though I was deeply hurt, Im not a coward. Even so, the sting can remain long after the impactand mine would linger for some time.

My prince and I grew up together in a small Rhode Island town. Our families were friends, so he and I were too. It was a congenial town where everyone knew one another, a quintessential white-picket-fence community right on the water. We learned to sail in the local harbor, played soccer in the fall, and went sledding on the nearby golf course in the winter, sipping our hot cocoa from thermoses while watching other kids attempt the suicide run, where there was about a 90 percent chance of a wipeout because of the pitch. Though we dont always know it at the time, its amazing how much our families, community, and neighbors shape and program us for our futures.

My prince was witty, funny, andIll be frankhot. Like, super hot. He was the kind of guy Connie, my mother, thought would never go for a girl like me. Not that theres anything wrong with me; my mother just thought hed pick a different kind of girl.

Did she really say that?

She did. Yet I learned to laugh when she said things like this. My mother didnt offer commentary all the time, but when she did, her Connie zingers were beyond blunt observations; they were so brutal that they were actually funny. Hilarious, even. Or at least I learned to think they were, because if I didnt laugh, I would certainly cry. Her remarks only made me stronger and helped prepare me for a world where rejection was part of the game and nobody gave a shit about your feelingsor so I told my therapist. So when you meet somebody who actually does care about your feelings, it can throw youespecially when you come from a family like mine, where zingers were tossed around as casually as Frisbees. And not those soft Nerf Frisbees they have nowadays; no, Im talking about one of those hard, 1970s Wham-O Frisbees that could level you with one hit.

My prince was everything any girl could ever want. Handsome, from a good home, super smart, an amazing athlete did I mention handsome? I hate admitting Im shallow that way, but looks have always mattered to me. Good hygiene matters toobut its still second to looks. Without chemistry and attraction, theres zero chance wed hit it off on a date. Either he needed to be smokin hot or ridiculously funny, and preferably an equal blend of the two. Look, Im all for womens rights and equality, but everyone, and I mean everyone, wants to be wooed from time to time.

When youre young, you buy into that fairy tale. As they grow up, girls are sold on the fantasy that someday their prince will come. I was no exception. And even though my family would agree that Im unconventional in many ways, always going against the grain or away from the pack, I also wanted that kind of fabled love. I dont think my mind could even grasp any idea other than the full mythical package. All I ever expected (and deeply wanted) was to meet my Prince Charming, have children, and live happily ever after, like Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, or Cinderella. It never dawned on me that the first of these women lived with seven little men she didnt know, basically as their maid, the second was in a coma in the woods when her prince found her, and the last had vermin for friends and got so wasted on her first big night out that she lost an irreplaceable shoe. Point is, these princesses werent really pictures of stability.