I Didn’t Go Through A ‘Wild Child’ Dating Phase After Divorce

But it’s not uncommon and I’m wondering if I missed something.

I’m out with a bunch of girls. They’ve been divorced for a different span of time and are in various stages of post-divorce dating.

One is looking for a meaningful relationship.

One is done looking for a man at all.

One isn’t quite sure what she’s looking for and is confused.

I’m just beginning to date.

And one is in her divorce wild child stage.

Some of these things correspond with how long a woman has been divorced.

And some of them don’t.

The divorce wild child dating phase isn’t uncommon.

It usually happens immediately following a divorce.

It’s an, “I’m finally free and I’m going to do whatever I want moment.” Or put another way, “I don’t give a f*ck.”

It’s a real thing.

Just like ex-sex is a real thing.

Although not for this girl.

About a year out of my divorce, I received a text from my ex-husband.

“I think you meant to text someone else,” I say.

“Oh no,” he says. “I know exactly who I’m texting.”

“Seriously?” I say. “Never going to happen in this lifetime.”

But I guess my ex knows that ex-sex is a real thing.

And happens for a lot of divorcing and/or divorced couples.

He must think his odds are good.

Either that or he’s dumb or just batsh*t crazy.

My phone pings a few months later with another unwanted offer. This time I know it’s meant for me and unfortunately, not some other unsuspecting deer in the headlights.

“Again,” I say. “Not sure why you would ever think that would happen.”

“Why?” he says.

Again, he’s either dumb or just batsh*t crazy.

“No one will ever have to know,” he says.

As if that sweetens the deal.

Somehow he’s forgotten his marital bad behavior and his extreme divorce abuse. He seems to have no memory of my inability to actually get away from him for five years.

Or the fact he financially ruined me.

“Not happening,” I say.

I’m not sure why I continue to text him back.

“Come over,” he says again. “I’ll even make you dinner.”

Really? You mean with all the money you stole from me?

I’ve lost my appetite.

He tried a few more times and gave up and gave in to the dating app he was on.

It was a post-divorce win for me.

I never went through a divorce wild child phase. I can’t help but wonder if I am missing something. To be fair, the duration and abuse of my divorce made it a lot harder for me to bounce back from. I was exhausted.

And it’s kind of like transferring to a college your sophomore year.

You missed the Freshman partying.

You can never make up for that.

But it’s also probably because it isn’t in me. My camera roll is pretty PG. There’s not a lot on there except for my dog, my family, my friends, landscapes, and things I find funny.

Okay, I can’t lie.

My life is pretty PG.

I wasn’t wild when I was younger and I’m still not wild.

I’m a rule-following worrier. This kind of cancels out any uninhibited adventures. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a ton of fun. I’m just not the ‘casual’ kind of fun girl.

I’m content living vicariously through a few other girls' wild child stories.

I can cheer them on.

It’s like when high school demands you have at least one or two wilder friends. If not, it’s like you miss out on everything twice. Once when you pass on the opportunity.

And again, when you can’t hear about it.

And we NEED to hear about it.

Especially, if we aren’t living it.

Not to mention, to each their ‘divorced own.’

One thing divorced women learn pretty quickly…Is not to judge one another.

We’ve been there and done that. We’ve had plenty of inquiring minds want to know while we sought freedom. We’ve absorbed enough unwanted criticism to be in need of more.

Did I miss something by not doing the wild child thing?

I’ve decided it’s okay.

I’m not really interested in the men who frequent ‘hookup,’ not ‘dating’ apps. The place where the wild men reside. The ones I probably can’t trust. Go figure!

I’m not looking to receive any ‘text pics.’

Did I say that nicely enough?

Or should I say…politically correct enough?

Remember my camera roll is pretty PG.

I’m content with the stories.

They satisfy my inner wild child.

The one who can’t actually come out to play.