Tag Archives: relationships

Love Like This

Posted in She. Me. Her., You + Me = Us by

Another poem as Valentines Day approaches:

I wish I’d never read Bridgerton.

Eight siblings, neatly ordered by name, forever bound by blood.

The Bridgertons fell in love, and I fell in love with the love.

A society lady got swept off her feet and I turned page

after page

after page

because I too wish to be carried away.

How does it feel to ride a wave of emotion so strong

you’d rather die than fight it?

To be so enamored you’d risk life and liberty

to bear his children, his name?

To read his words, etched in ink and sent across oceans

and know, in your heart of hearts,

he wouldn’t trade you for anyone else?

My brown skin and locs aren’t what the text describes

but I can’t help putting myself on the page.

What does it feel like to be the prize?

Not an afterthought, but the one sought after?

This is just a story meant to keep saps like me buying books

and merch

and Netflix subscriptions.

But I still ache for romance sweet enough to be a best seller.

Tangled Up in Me

Posted in She. Me. Her. by

Where can you reduce clutter in your life?

Since I was a child, I’ve always had a lot of “stuff.” School papers, books, knickknacks, stuffed animals—if I received it, I kept it. To this day, my mother expresses amazement at the system of organized chaos I maintained. Yes, my room was a mess, but that mess was cataloged (and if you messed with my mess I would definitely notice).

As an adult, I’m still inclined to keep things but to a significantly smaller extent. These days I hang onto sentimental stuff: cards, photos, ticket stubs, items that are typically smaller and easier to store. I actually competed a project last month to reorganized all my mementos; they are now separated by phase of life, tucked away in labeled bins for easy reference in the future. (How very Virgo of me, spending my hard earned vacation time on home organization projects haha.)

Nowadays, the mental clutter requires more attention than the physical. I struggle so hard with letting memories go…especially when they hurt. The rejections, the embarrassments, the dismissals, the failures, the missed opportunities—all of them live rent-free in my brain and they love making their presence known.

I understand our brains do lots of wild stuff because of evolution; they are hard wired to protect us from danger and memory is part of that. But what I don’t understand is why I can’t purge some of this mental clutter. Why I hold onto it, pull it off the shelf, and examine it so often (even when I’d rather be thinking about pretty much anything else.)

It reminds me of a song:

I’m real good at forgiving

But my heart can’t forget

The ache before the mend

Kelly Clarkson, skip this part

I’m pretty good at moving on, but for some reason my brain just refuses to let go of all the hurt.

Maybe this is all for some higher purpose I haven’t realized yet. Or maybe it’s my depression and anxiety playing tricks on me (as they are known to do). Either way, I’d love to clear out some of these old hurts and make room for more positive thoughts.

Here’s to the Night

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If you didn’t need sleep, what would you do with all the extra time?

I’ve always been an “early to bed, early to rise” kind of gal. My childhood best friend and I were reminiscing the other day and she laughed while recalling how even at noisy slumber parties I would take myself to bed whenever I got tired enough. What can I say? I need my beauty rest, and lots of it.

But what if sleep wasn’t a necessity? What would I do if I had the full 24 hours in my day?

Short answer: EVERYTHING.

I would go to clubs and parties in the wee hours of the night, just to see what all the fuss is about. (I’ve long been skeptical that those places are actually fun after midnight.)

I would clean my house within an inch of its life and finally, finally be caught up on laundry.

I would stay up late talking with my husband, growing closer together as we watched the sun rise.

I would finish all the books I’ve been trying to read and get my library hold list down to 0.

I would have more sessions with my therapist.

I would exercise more. (The pandemic taught me that I will work out if I have literally nothing else to do.)

I would volunteer in my community.

I would spend more time with my family and friends. (Traveling wouldn’t be as big of a hassle if I could do it while the rest of the world is sleeping.)

I would blog more and finally start that memoir I’ve been itching to write.

And, if I’m really being honest with myself, I would probably long for the “beauty rest” I no longer needed.

I would reminisce about the 8-10 hours I used to sleep every day.

I would recall how good it felt to retire at the end of a long day, to quietly slip into that still pool of slumber.

I would achingly remember what it felt like to dream.

skip this part

Posted in She. Me. Her. by

Can I skip this part
When I fall to pieces
Back here at start
Need a time machine then

If I could escape all this hurt and this pain, oh, I would
What it’s gonna take to get me through this break is no good

Kelly Clarkson, ‘skip this part’

I know I’m guilty of pushing my feelings aside for convenience, self-preservation, and to protect other people’s feelings. Those so-called “bad” feelings—anger, disappointment, frustration—I’m the queen of holding that ish in. For some many reasons, I’ve convinced myself that these very natural feelings should be hidden away. Other people can feel that way, but not me. Can’t let people know when they hurt you—that’s weakness! Never show people you’re upset—don’t wanna be a buzzkill!

But even the “good” feelings are carefully sequestered; joy, passion, and enthusiasm are carefully meted. Phrases like “a crime of passion” always freaked me out because the emotion takes over. I never want to lose control of myself, even for “good” reason. Not only that, if I allow myself to fully experience those emotions then I’ll open myself up to disappointment. Don’t get too happy because you’ll feel that tumble and crash into sadness even more. Don’t get too excited because then it will hurt twice as much when someone (especially someone you love) lets you down.

But today and from now on, I allow myself to feel.

I am so sick of putting myself into a box because it’s easier than living outside of it. I am wasting one of the most beautiful human experiences—feeling and emotion—because I’m worried about how other people will react. I will always consider and respect the feelings of others, and I try to never shame anyone for feeling a way. So I’m going to apply that sentiment to myself from now on.

Do you allow yourself to feel? How do you express your feelings in a healthy, non-destructive way that still respects the feelings of others?

Dear Future Husband

Posted in She. Me. Her., You + Me = Us by

You’ve got your work cut out for you, my darling.

I promise I will not try to make your life difficult. In fact, I’ll do whatever I can to help you, to ease your spirit and give you comfort. But I’d be lying if I acted like I didn’t know I’m a bit of a handful, and I think you deserve to know why.

Men have abandoned me my entire life.

The first was my father. When it was time to choose between alcohol or me, his addiction made the choice for him. He left our family. He died a few years later.

The second was my first love. He took all he could from me, then threw me aside. He decided I was good enough to cook and clean and coddle him, but not good enough to be his girlfriend.

The third was the boyfriend who assaulted me. He didn’t ask for my consent. Maybe he didn’t think he needed to. Or maybe he felt like I wasn’t worth asking.

The fourth was the fiancé who tokenized me. He wanted all I had to offer, but not me as a person. His true feelings showed when I ended our engagement; he told me just how terrible he thought I was.

The fifth was the fiancé who abused me. He hurt me mentally, emotionally, and physically. He gaslit me. He expected me to do all the housework, pay all the bills, and raise all of his children. He spent all of my money. He tried to strangle me.

That cruel man was the last to break my heart before I met you.

In spite of all the negative, I still believe in love. And when I love, I love HARD. It may take time for me to give you my heart, but if and when I do, you get all of it.

I’ve decided to give my heart to you, future husband. I expect few things in return.

I expect you will treat me gently and with kindness.

I expect you will defend me and protect me from anyone or anything that attempts to do me harm.

I expect you will listen to me. Pay attention to my words and actions. I say what I mean and mean what I say—all you have to do is listen.

I expect you will be there for me when I need you.

All of these expectations are ones I have for myself also. I will be kind. I will defend you. I will listen to you. I will be there for you whenever or whatever the circumstance.

I will treat you how I want to be treated.

Because even though men have abandoned me and broken my heart, the strong women in my life taught me to always treat others with the respect and dignity I want to receive. And I will. You will have my full, never-ending adoration, respect, and love until you treat me like you no longer deserve it.

Marriage is something I plan to do once and only once. Choosing a husband is not a choice I make lightly. It means a lot to me.

It means I’ve found the man who will treat me the way all the other men didn’t…

…like someone worthy of love.

Me. Mine.

Posted in Normal People Things, She. Me. Her., That's What the World Is Today by

It was during high school, one afternoon, in an upstairs hallway.

I’d come to the conclusion I wanted to end the relationship.  We’d been together awhile (probably around a year) and while things were good at times, overall things were bad.  My boyfriend–my first real boyfriend–was clingy, demanding and manipulative.  He wanted to plan matching outfits every day.  He constantly compared our relationship, especially the physical aspect (really, the lack thereof), to his best friend.  If I was having a good day and he wasn’t, he went out of his way to ignore me until my day was shitty too.

So, I told him it was over.  He rested his head against the wall, silent.  I though the conversation went as well as it possibly could have…until he reared back and slammed his forehead into the glass of a picture frame hanging on the wall.  In disbelief, I backed toward a classroom door, hoping to escape quickly.

Locked.

Shock quickly turned to fear.

Luckily, other students were farther down the hallway and heard the commotion.  I hurried back to class and frantically told my teacher what happened; she rushed out to assist him.  My cousin came to check on me and I told him I was fine, he hadn’t hurt me.

The painful part came afterward, when I was asked to keep quiet about what happened.

My ex begged me not to tell anyone what happened.  He hoped to join the military and worried this would negatively impact his chances.  His mom and sister came to me with the same request.  I was horrified.  I was supposed to protect him? He was upset, they said.  That behavior wasn’t like him; his future was at stake.

He.  Him.

My college boyfriend–my first real love–went home for the summer while I stayed in town and worked.  Toward the end of the summer, he told me he wanted to take me out to dinner–to talk to me about something–when he got back.  He was very mysterious, refusing to tell me what he wanted to talk about, and I thought for sure he was going to propose.  Turns out, he wanted to break up.  (Thank God I got him to tell me over the phone instead of in a restaurant.)

But after that, we were still cordial…until he got upset with me for not buying a computer from him.  See, he worked at a computer store and I came in one day and bought a brand new laptop–but not while he was on shift.  He could have used that commission, he said.  He thought I would have wanted to help him out.

He.  Him.

Too often, women are expected to take ownership for what men do.  Recently, the trial and conviction of Bill Cosby illuminates this disgusting facet of our society.  Why did she go to his hotel room?  What did she expect would happen?  Why is she coming forward now?  He’s an old man; he’ll die in prison because of this.  What about him, his legacy as a Black actor?

He.  Him.

It sickens me for a number of reasons, but mostly because it happened to me.  I completely understand the anger, the sadness, the frustration, and the guilt that comes with being made to feel like you have to take care of someone totally able to care for himself.

Women are socialized to care, to nurture, to feel.  We are expected to be firm, but kind.  We are taught to be nice. Even at our own expense.

This goes for everyone, but especially for women–we need to start taking care of ourselves.  It isn’t selfish to protect yourself from harm.  It isn’t mean to tell the truth.

Honestly, I hesitated to even write this post. What if my two exes, their friends and families, got upset with me? What if I hurt their feelings? What if I made them mad?

Then I realized–I can’t worry about them. I have to worry about me. One of my intentions this year is to speak my truth. I’m finally telling the truth I’ve felt obligated to keep quiet for so long.

Me. Mine.

You don’t owe anyone your self-esteem, your time, your money, or your silence–especially if they aren’t willing to positively invest in you.

Best of 2017

Posted in family, Normal People Things, She. Me. Her., You + Me = Us by

So.  2017 was an…interesting year.  So much craziness went on in the world (including, but not limited to, somebody’s President acting a fool constantly) but plenty of good things happened too!

Here’s is my list of personal highlights from 2017 (in no particular order):

  1. Getting back into acting…kinda:  I completed recording for my first lead role in an audio drama!  I’m used to acting for stage and screen, so doing just vocal work was new to me, but it was a fantastic experience.  And y’all–this story is SO GOOD.  I can’t wait for you to hear it.  Please check out Who Killed Julie?, debuting later this year!
  2. #relationshipgoals:  My boyfriend and I celebrated one year together!  Wonderful can’t even describe this man.  He has been so supportive and understanding (given my rocky last relationship) and I can’t imagine my life with out him.
  3. International travels:  It was a bit late in the year, but I went to Ontario, Canada for a work trip in December.  I had never been to Canada before and was excited to get another stamp on my passport.  I’d love to go back for fun instead of work (preferably in the summer months).
  4. Mommy/daughter Costa Rican extravaganza:  I guess technically this falls under international travels too, but it was so awesome I had to give it a special shout out.  My mother and I took a trip to Costa Rica in October that was so wonderful.  Look for more details on our adventures in a FOUR PART series next month!
  5. Three decades of life:  This year, I turned 30!  Honestly, I feel like I acted like a 30-year-old long before my actual birthday, so it is nice to have my age match my maturity level.  🙂  I’ve come a long way from that girl who first boarded a plane at the age of 16, who thought she’d live and die in the great commonwealth of Kentucky.  I’ve learned a lot along the way and I can’t see what the good Lord has in store for me for the next 30 years.
  6. My squirrel friend’s wedding, my other squirrel friend’s baby, and just general squirrel friend shenanigans:  This year I was blessed to see my good friends make awesome moves in life.  One had a daughter, who is now a DRDIT (Drag Race Diva In Training).  One got married in a beautiful ceremony in upstate New York (which I was fortunate enough to be able to attend).  One finally freed herself from an abusive relationship.  And so many called, texted, Skyped, or just hung out with me.
  7. Girls Trip:  If you haven’t seen it, you must.  I’m not sure if I’ve ever laughed that hard in a movie theater.
  8. Stella:  My brand new car!  You know, after seven years, I finally feel safe driving in these Wisconsin winters.  It’s amazing.
  9. Workin’ on my fitness:  2017 marked one full year since I started working with my personal trainer.  I’ve lost 20 lbs so far (and improved my eating too)!
  10. Fully realizing the awesomeness of Amazon Prime:  “Why yes, I did order a dish drainer online.  Couldn’t I have just gone to the store and bought one?  Absolutely!  But…why?”

Tell me–what’s on your “Best of 2017” list?  What are you hoping to accomplish in 2018?

Movies, Flea Markets, and Parental Advice #100HappyDays

Posted in family, She. Me. Her., Work Life by

Day 54: Curriculum design makes me happy. I spent most of the day working on new stuff for work, and it was…kind of awesome. Most people wouldn’t be geeked to spend a whole day in front of Word documents and Excel spreadsheets, but putting together this new program to help people learn our software better makes this geeky gal pretty happy. 

Day 55: Movies make me happy. Especially when you can watch them in the comfort of your own home–DVDs from the library for the win! 

Day 56: Flea markets make me happy. Yes, you read that right:  flea markets. My daddy and I used to go to the flea market all the time when I was little; I loved seeing all the cool stuff for sale. So, when I found out a flea market was going on near my house I definitely wanted to check it out. I didn’t buy anything, but I did see some interesting stuff–I’d love to go to more flea markets now that the weather is nice. 

Day 57: Parental advice makes me happy. At least once a week, I call my parents to catch up…and also ask for advice (usually about basic adult stuff that I should probably know already, but don’t). Lucky for me, they are always willing to give it andddd it’s always great advice! Win-win!

Day 58: Being in a supportive relationship makes me happy.  My boyfriend is there for me whenever I need him, and I am so lucky (and happy) because of it. 

Rude Girl

Posted in Normal People Things by

Apparently, I’m rude.

I mean, I didn’t even curse!  No personal insults or attacks.  Not even an angry emoji or two. Just a single iMessage after multiple disappointments:

“I said before I want a friendship with someone who has time and energy to hang out with me.  I don’t think that is you. Best of luck in the future, but do not contact me again.”

In the words of Queen Bey “you must not know ’bout me” because, baby–I can show you rude if you really wanna see it. I purposefully waited a day before responding because my original response was hella rude.

He must have also conveniently forgotten that his rude behavior caused this reaction.  I mean, he was the one who:

  1. Disappeared for MONTHS after our first date–no phone call, text, telegram, smoke signal, NOTHING.
  2. Randomly popped back into my life expecting me to forget I hadn’t heard from him in literally five months.  He asked me if he could “make it up to me” which he did by…
  3. Continuously made sexual innuendos and constantly commented on my body, which made me extremely uncomfortable. (When I asked him to stop, he said he would “back off.” I didn’t ask you to back off, sir. I asked you to STOP.)
  4. Touched my hair without my permission.  Like, not just a pat–his hands were IN MY HAIR.  (To his credit, he stopped when I asked, but please don’t touch me without my permission. That is very, very rude.)
  5. Telling me he didn’t feel like making the drive to see me (after I drove to see him the last time we hung out) and making plans with me, but cancelling the day of because his “night kinda disappeared with a bunch of stuff.”  <~~~WTF does that even mean?

So, sir–if being up front about not wanting inconsistent people in my life is rude, then I don’t want to be polite.

Boy, bye. 

The (Not So Great) Compromise

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Compromise:  “a concession to something derogatory or prejudicial.”

Dang, Merriam-Webster.  That’s a little harsh, don’t you think?  (Though I’m certain advocates for the Virginia Plan would side with you.)

I like the simple definition better:  “a way of reaching agreement in which each person or group gives up something that was wanted in order to end an argument or dispute.”

The key word in that definition?  Each.  Each person gives up something.  Not one, but each.

I met someone who by all accounts was exactly what I wanted.  Handsome.  Intelligent.  Successful.  Wonderful listener.  Socially conscious.  Empathetic.  Great teeth (don’t judge me, as everyone has their preferences and this is one of mine).  But there was a teeny, tiny catch…

He was into open dating.

And, well…I’m…not.

It’s fine if others want to have open relationships, but I’m just not that kinda gal.  Call me prissy, prudish, old-fashioned, unrealistic, whatever you want–it’s just not for me.  I’m the type of person who goes all in when I commit to something, so that’s what I want in return.  I’m also an only child, so sharing isn’t my strong suit (again, don’t judge me, as everyone has their flaws and this is one of mine).

So when he mentioned the subject with me, I listened to his rationale.  I heard him out. I let him explain what it all meant and how he practiced it. (All the while hearing my intuition screaming, “Girl!  What.  Are.  You.  Thinking?!?  This is not your lane!  Don’t go there!  This is not what you want!”)

And yet…I said I’d think about it.  I honestly considered being one of many, even though my heart disagreed.  This man was 80% what I needed him to be.  I could live without that 20%, right? No one’s perfect.  I was willing to compromise.  That’s what adults are supposed to do–compromise!  Each person gives up something for the greater good.

…But that wasn’t what was happening.  Each person wasn’t giving up something.  I was giving up something, and something I really, really  want:  Monogamy.  Faithfulness.  A one-and-only kind of love.

I don’t think that kind of love is impossible.  I’ve seen it happen and I know it can happen for me.  But it surely won’t if I keep doing this fake ass “compromising.”

I told him every man in my life (until recently) has let me down.  They abandoned me.  They decided that some one or something else was more important than me.  I do not want that any more.  I refuse to commit someone who is not willing to give everything, because that’s what I’m willing to give.  I will not be second best.

I deserve someone who will make me their one.  Their only.

So we decided it wasn’t going to work out.  He’s a great person; I won’t cross the street or cuss his ass out if I ever see him again.  He’s just not the one for me.

I was in my feelings a little bit after our decision to part ways and stumbled across this gem that reaffirmed I was taking the best action for my life.

Here’s to falling in love for the right reason and finding someone to share me…with me.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IGYwf7e_cr8