Sarcasm to avoid intimacy

I was going to write about the beautiful snow this morning but something else is on the forefront. What’s going on is I like a guy. His name is “J” and he has big muscles and writes poetry. Yesterday he shared some of his poetry with me and it was deep. Thoughtful. Spoke right to my heart.

This morning I thought of him and wanted to send a text, to let him know I was thinking about him without sounding TOO much like I was thinking about him.

I wrote, “Good morning ( blushing smiling emoji), I hope you have a great day and stay warm” and then I changed it and added some sarcasm; my go-t0, protective mechanism used by clever, funny, sarcastic, avoids-intimacy Devon. Yuck. It’s my default, to protect my heart when I start to like someone.

That’s what I noticed this morning. The beautiful snow, the fact I like “J”, and my old coping mechanism where I lead with my humor instead of my heart. 

“Sarcasm helps keep you from telling people what you really think of them.”

    -Author Unknown

Have you ever used sarcasm to avoid intimacy? I’d love to hear about it….post in the comments below.

Self-awareness realizations on a snowy Monday morning in Littleton,


Why Construction Makes Me Think of Him

At 7:06am I hear the clanking of heavy machinery outside my loft balcony and I know construction has begun.

When I hear the “beep, beep, beep” of bulldozers, I think of my ex-boyfriend Monte.

Monte was a construction foreman and a cattle rancher, but it was construction that gave him a steady paycheck and health insurance. He would get up at the crack of dawn and leave the house by 5:30am to be on the job site by 6:30am before his crew arrived.

I used to visit him for lunch and bring him a foot-long Subway sandwich and a giant ice tea with 4 sugar packets.

We’d pop open the hatchback of my SUV for a place to sit, eat our sandwiches, and talk about the morning. By 12:30pm, I’d worked with one coaching client for 2 hours while Monte had been running a crew of 20 guys for six hours.

Monte has an incredible work ethic. He can operate any piece of machinery and he’d often jump in the backhoe because he can do the job twice as efficiently compared to the guy driving it. He’d go full steam until 6pm, pick me up at the ranch, and we’d go eat sushi that he’d eat with a fork instead of chopsticks.

I know we weren’t meant to be together forever but I still think about him. I miss the way he used to ask me if I’d rather be in the mountains or the mall. He’d smile when I said “mountains,” and kiss me approvingly.

We used to watch my favorite show, Heartland, and after the first episode, he was hooked. He loves horses as much as I do. When we watched the episode where old cowboy “Jack” put his beloved horse down, we both sobbed and wiped our tears on his V-neck t-shirt. Monte was tough as nails in front of his construction crew but I got to see the softer side. The man with a heart of gold who loves deeply.

It’s funny how certain things remind us of past relationships. The “beep, beep, beeping” of construction, a Garth Brooks song on the radio, or seeing a foreman’s red truck on the highway. It can bring back a flood of memories.

People come and go in our lives to teach us different things.

Monte taught me how to trust and my heart felt safe with him. He wanted the softer side of Devon, and my tough, guarded ranch woman attitude began to crack. He was the first man I fully opened my heart to and allowed my walls to come down. We brought out the depth in each other and our relationship changed me.

Monte’s now ranching full time in Nevada and I’m in Denver listening to construction noises and reflecting on memories. Not pining for the past but I’m forever grateful for the chapter we shared.

“There’s always a reason why you meet people. Either you need to change your life or you’re the one that will change theirs.” – Angel Flonis Harefa

Thoughts on a Thursday morning,


Roped in at the Rodeo

I met a guy when I wasn’t looking to meet a guy. I was innocently walking around Cheyenne Frontier Days when I got roped, literally, by a 3-year-old kid walking behind me. I felt the rope come over my boot-clad ankle, then heard a giggle.

I turned around and saw a cute kid in a cowboy hat holding the end of the rope. Next to him was a laughing older gentleman who hollered, “Look Tripp, you caught her!” He stuck his arm out, pointed ahead, and said “There’s my son, he’s a cowboy about your age…you should go say hi.”

I looked ahead and sure enough a guy in his 30’s had a slightly amused grin on his face, and I immediately noticed his blue eyes under his cowboy hat from 5o feet away.

Glancing over at my friend, Alison, we smiled knowingly at each other…this guy was cute.

We picked up the pace and walked up to the cowboy. He had a dimpled grin and was walking toward to barn to water his roping horse. We asked if we could meet his horse and he said sure.

After watching him fill water buckets for his pretty roan gelding named “Roan”, we mosied to the horse trailer where other rodeo contestants and kids were practicing roping.

The cowboy gave me a roping lesson and I learned he’s a professional steer roper. He showed me how to rope the fake horns on a hay bale while Alison watched approvingly.

When we left the fairgrounds that day, the cowboy, Luke, and I exchanged phone numbers. I knew I wanted to see him again.

Fast forward a month later, I have been to Texas, he has come to Colorado, and it’s been a helluva ride so far.

Sweating in the humidity of the northeastern Texas summer heat, I learned they do things much differently in the Lone Star State.

Cowboys don’t ride for leisure, they ride for work. They ride to win roping competitions so they can pay their truck payments. They travel from rodeo to rodeo, then come home to the ranch, and work like dogs to brush hog the weeds from taking over the pastures.

Luke has opened my eyes to new things.

He’s taught me how to deworm heifers and yearlings, shoot a 223 rifle and hit clay disks, keep my toes down in the stirrups while swinging a rope on the back of a horse, and how to effectively herd cattle without yelling “yeehaw”. (I was getting cows worked up with my enthusiastic hootin’ and hollerin’.)

Patiently, and with a smile, he showed me another way.

Conversely, I’ve opened Luke’s eyes to new things; I’ve taught him what gelato is, how to order an Uber cab, introduced him to his first comedy show, and what the breakaway rubber bands on English stirrups are for.

It’s been awhile since I’ve had someone teach me new things and ride outside my comfort zone. I like it, and I like him. There’s excitement in not knowing what’s ahead on this long distance trail and I’m happy I got roped in.

Heads Texas, Tails Colorado,


Life is about how you react to what happens to you

Growing up, my mom used to tell me that quote and I’d roll my eyes.

Now, I realize how true it is.

Earlier this week, I was supposed to meet a blind date for coffee. This was a blind date I was excited about. His profile pictures looked great, his online messaging banter was witty and fun, and he used just the right amount of smile emojis without overdoing it.

Alas, when I sent him an online message confirming where to meet, I got no response.  I had just raced home from Walgreens after buying Instant Dry pink nail polish so I could wear my open toe wedge sandals. I turned my attention toward painting my toes, and tried not to worry about my date’s lack of response. An hour went by and still no answer.

My mind started to race. Had he met someone else (in the past 2 hours?) Had I said the wrong thing? Did he decide he didn’t like me? I’ll never know the answer.

As a slew of thoughts raced through my mind, I decided to get out of the house and take my main man, Namo, for a walk in the park. I took off my wedges (at least my freshly painted toes looked good), slipped into flip flops, put a baseball cap over my straightened date-ready hair, and headed out the door. I was not going to let this ruin my mood for too long.

Truth is, twinges of loneliness started to creep in as I stood alone in the house staring at the phone, waiting for a response. I needed to get out and be among people. Any people.

In the past, I would have raced for the refrigerator and downed whatever high-carb, high-sugar numbing food I could get my hands on to numb the sharp feelings of rejection, sadness, and disappointment. Now, I have well-practiced coping tools but still…I was hurt and a bit miffed.

Namo and I took a slow stroll through the park  and after a few minutes, we plopped down in the grass and watched people walk by. I was acutely aware of every couple holding hands although I’d never noticed it before. Kind of like buying a red car, and then seeing red cars everywhere.

Thank goodness for Namo. He sat by my side and I gently stroked the top of his head as I thought about his unconditional love. I don’t know where I’d be without animals in my life.

I’m glad we went for a walk and I didn’t let the thoughts of rejection consume me. I figured I had it handled.

Later that night I made myself dinner and zoned out while watching Scandal. After dinner, I sat on the couch with a belvita Soft Baked breakfast bar in my hand, and realized it’s not what I was hungry for.

I was hungry for someone to cuddle with, someone to cook with, and someone to laugh with. The breakfast bar in my hand wasn’t going to give me any of that. After unwrapping it, I took a deep breath, and threw it away.

As a recovered bulimic, I haven’t binged in years and it caught me by surprise that those subtle tendencies were rearing their head again. Then I remembered what my mom said, “Life is about how you react to what happens to you.” She is so right.

I’ve learned we don’t have control over other people but we DO have control over our thoughts, which lead to our behaviors.

By consciously choosing how to react, my loserville feelings passed and I reconnected to the truth of who I am. A woman who is courageously putting herself out there to meet a kind, reliable, loving man who doesn’t care if my toenails are painted or not.

Life is unpredictable AND we can choose how to react when things don’t happen the way we want them to.

I’d love to hear from you…how do you react to situations when they don’t turn out as you’d hoped? Post in the comments below!

Choosing my reaction,

Back in the dating saddle

I’m a 33 year old woman. I live in a commercial-sized chicken coop turned cozy cottage (see pics below).



I have two horses named Detail and Playboy, one dog named Namo, and one cat named Charley. I love to ride horses and help people. I like open spaces and feeling free. I like being myself. Wow, yep, I just said that. I have come a long way although I still feel like I have a lot to learn in the romantic love category…only a few layers of that onion have been peeled back.

I’m dating a guy named Monte and he’s helping me peel back the layers. I wasn’t looking to date again but he showed up one day on my doorstep at 7:20am and I answered the door in my fuzzy horse bathrobe. He asked if I had the phone number of the ranch owner because his construction crew was going to be dumping dirt to build a new horse paddock. So I gave it to him and quickly crossed my arms over my chest when I realized I didn’t have a bra on.

Then he got in his red pickup truck and drove off. I saw him a few days later driving a truck full of dirt and I waved at him to stop. I wanted my horse’s runs filled with soft dirt and he seemed like the guy to do it.

He stopped the truck and we started talking while I was feeding horses wearing Chacos, which he later referred to as my “Jesus sandals”.

The rest isn’t history; it’s still the first chapter. I’m scared to open my heart again and I didn’t think I was ready but here I am. I wasn’t looking for anyone but he showed up and we started spending more time together. I learned he’s a construction foreman/cowboy and has 5 horses, 200 cattle, and a ranch. A RANCH. That’s always been my dream, to have my own ranch. Some women’s hearts go pitter-patter when they hear “ring”, my heart goes pitter-patter when I hear “ranch”.

I like him and I don’t know where this trail is going to lead but I’m glad we are on it together. It’s softening my heart and allowing someone to see beneath the layers of a tough, independent woman who is perfectly content doing her own thing.


I like holding hands. And having someone teach me about elk bugling. And being looked in the eyes so deeply that I have to look away because I start blushing.

This guy sees me…Shit. What a feeling to be truly seen.

Back in the saddle and falling hard,