Hi, I'm Scarlett
I've been writing about dating and sex for three years. I was married for a quarter of a century to a good ‘ol boy, a true hillbilly. It took me 10 years of marriage to get him to move his plate from the table to the counter. You got the picture? When people ask when I fell out of love I can’t think when I was in love so there’s that.
The best thing that came from that marriage are my children. I have three grown children who are quite often mortified by me. I have a lot of energy and will talk to anyone, also I like to dance and I'm not very good at it so there's that. I understand their mortification but try not to let it change me.
Life number two began when I left the good ‘ol boy. I wanted a nice and easy divorce so I walked away from thousands of dollars in cows and machinery. Eh. Que sara sara.
After I got the courage to walk away from that unhappy marriage (yes courage, it was extremely difficult) I fell in love within two months. I met man number two ON MY VERY FIRST DATE after leaving the Hillbilly, smh. We met on POF. Let’s call him Hoppy Sporty Sport as he is a fan of TV sports and beer.
I ignored a lot of signs that we were incompatible because I LOVED this guy so very much. He is a kind, awesome guy, just not compatible in things that matter very much to me. That lasted six whole years. He “forgot” to propose to me after we’d discussed getting engaged that year. He literally said, “Oh I forgot about that.” Yeah. So. We had bought a house together and everything. I moved out in April of 2019. I cried every day for two months while packing and looking for a place to live. After I moved out I've only cried once about him specifically. But I was hungry, looked at old FB pix, and played Adele like a dumb bitch so I learned lesson there.
Here we are. Life number three darlin’s. Holy hell. I’ve been missing out. I moved out April 19, 2019 and have been writing about all of it! Come along for the ride... it's usually a good one.
The best thing that came from that marriage are my children. I have three grown children who are quite often mortified by me. I have a lot of energy and will talk to anyone, also I like to dance and I'm not very good at it so there's that. I understand their mortification but try not to let it change me.
Life number two began when I left the good ‘ol boy. I wanted a nice and easy divorce so I walked away from thousands of dollars in cows and machinery. Eh. Que sara sara.
After I got the courage to walk away from that unhappy marriage (yes courage, it was extremely difficult) I fell in love within two months. I met man number two ON MY VERY FIRST DATE after leaving the Hillbilly, smh. We met on POF. Let’s call him Hoppy Sporty Sport as he is a fan of TV sports and beer.
I ignored a lot of signs that we were incompatible because I LOVED this guy so very much. He is a kind, awesome guy, just not compatible in things that matter very much to me. That lasted six whole years. He “forgot” to propose to me after we’d discussed getting engaged that year. He literally said, “Oh I forgot about that.” Yeah. So. We had bought a house together and everything. I moved out in April of 2019. I cried every day for two months while packing and looking for a place to live. After I moved out I've only cried once about him specifically. But I was hungry, looked at old FB pix, and played Adele like a dumb bitch so I learned lesson there.
Here we are. Life number three darlin’s. Holy hell. I’ve been missing out. I moved out April 19, 2019 and have been writing about all of it! Come along for the ride... it's usually a good one.
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