I was always the quintessential good Catholic girl. I swallowed what the nuns taught us hook, line and sinker. Usually they told us that boys were devils, and that black patent leather shoes really do reflect up. Our school uniforms made sure our white blouses were covered up in all the “bra” areas, so we had lovely plaid jumpers. In high school it was even worse…..we had vests. And then sweaters to cover up the vests. Double coverage over those lily white blouses! After all, the nuns said that white reminded boys of sheets, and they only want to get us in bed. I kid you not. I wish I was.
But they were nothing compared to my mother. My mother continually accused my sister and I of foul play with the boys and would threaten to take us to the priest to confess our sins. My sister just ignored her and did whatever she wanted. I believed every word and stay a virgin until after college. Yes, that’s right. After college. And I married him. Cause that’s what good Catholic girls do.
After divorce #1 (I’m a two-time loser), I did try to make up for lost time. I figured I was repressed and needed to expand my horizons so to speak. I had a great time. I might have made the naughty list once or twice. But heck, a girl needs some fun every now and then. My ex should have stuck around. My 30’s were the best years of my life!
But alas, all good things must come to an end, and along came big mistake
So here I am again. Footloose and fancy free. Haven’t had a really banner year, In fact I would rate it in the top three worst, right after divorce #1 and divorce #2 . And I hate to tell you, but the 50’s are NOT the new 40’s, at least not in my case.