Someone is having a difficult time in their marriage right now. You are feeling angry, sad and resentful. You’re wondering if you made a mistake. Especially if you’re a newlywed. You’re sitting in your car or half working at your job trying to figure out how you arrived in your present space. Contemplating if it’s even worth the effort. You’re more like roommates than husband and wife maybe worse because you barely even speak to each other. The “D” word keeps coming up and you wonder if one day you’re gonna come home to find your mate has given up first.
Right now your heart is breaking more and more with thoughts regarding your expectations for your marriage and the reality of your marriage. When you were dating, your spouse was the best thing since sliced bread. Now he's just moldy yeast because even the best bread doesn’t stay fresh forever.
Folks don’t like vulnerability because it evokes fear. Personally, I believe fear gets a bad rap. Fear isn’t necessarily bad. I find it to be negative only if it keeps you from the thing on the other side of it. Fear is really just your subconscious telling you to pay attention. Instead of using it as an alert mechanism; we use it as an interrupter of action. It stops us cold.
This is why I wouldn’t make new friends. Eventually, I changed my ideology surrounding friendship and activated courage. I may still get hurt, but I won’t let fear steal the joy of having amazing people around me just because they haven’t been around for a certain number of years. Some of the folks I met in the last few years have been more impactful than people I’ve known half my life.
I’ve said it many times and I’ll say it again today. You are your only competition. The moment you start competing with other people; you've already lost. The only person I want to be better than is the woman I was yesterday. And listen, I think the woman I was yesterday is pretty dope, but I know on this journey there’s always room for growth. I cannot compare the today me against the today you because it is impossible to do and it just doesn’t make sense.
In scientific terms, when doing an experiment, to see the similarities and differences in something you would have to watch those things exclusively from start to finish; recording everything. You would need to know all variables or things effecting the subjects of the experiment. And therein lies the problem with social media. You can not see all the variables in the life of someone else.
As usual, the problem occurs when we don’t communicate our feelings. Instead, we go dark. You cannot articulate your feelings and you won’t try because you think it actually sounds kinda petty. We don’t make calls and we don’t take them. Too busy either feeling sorry for ourselves or refusing to give people who love us the benefit of the doubt. Although…. If you’re feeling some time of way the onus is on you to communicate those feelings.
Perfection lacks flexibility. It forces us to BE without movement or allowances. What happens when you stretch a rubber band that has no elasticity? It breaks... And so will you. Perfection is also an animal birthed from the expectations of others. Which is a major reason that it is unattainable.
I’m serious. Call me old fashioned or whatever. In the new age of the “pick me” woman who’s willing to pay a man’s rent and leave the tip and wash her own car to prove that she’s worthy… be the opposite. Maybe I’m what’s wrong with women today. Perhaps, I have been brainwashed by misogyny and patriarchy. If you are not independently wealthy or are unemployed; you cannot afford to date. How can you even find the time? Where I’m from even when you don’t have a job you have a job… looking for a job. My parents taught me this as a young woman. I’m sure they impressed it upon my brother even harder because he's a man. For the record, I don’t think broke women should date either. It places you in a place of vulnerability where you do not belong. FACT.
We live in an age where even when it’s your fault; you don’t want to be held accountable. The issue is so pervasive that not only don’t you want to be caught— you don’t want perfect strangers to be caught either. That’s the reason I used to flick my lights at people I didn’t know. I was projecting my desire to not be reprimanded or punished by letting other people know how not to get caught.
To be clear, social media doesn’t really make anyone hate their life. You hate your life because you hate your life. You continue to make the same choices, revisit the same places, roll around with the same individual and wonder why nothing in your life is different. I believe Einstein had words to say about that kind of behavior. He called it insanity. Einstein was correct. Imagine that. Unfortunately, you haven’t heard the wise words of the late great Einstein. So, you stay on the ferris wheel. Professing to hate every minute of it. Screaming to get off. Yet, never removing your safety belt. Never standing. Never being miserable enough to stop the revolutions.
I have learned that true restoration comes from being mature enough to hold yourself accountable without attempting to buy or overlook the healing process. Healing can’t be bought and overlooking only suppresses the pain. Shout out to my mama for always loving me!
In our current society we are becoming so removed from the people around us. Authentic relationships are suffering because we prefer texts over a five minute conversation to say “I miss you and I love”. Our children are being raised by YouTube and the Disney channel. Some of that is because we need help, but for whatever reason don’t ask for it. Thank God for friends who will come get my children or who bring theirs to me. Your circle of influence extends to your children.
I know the heart wrenching impact of suicide and the extreme, desperate heart and mind space one has to be in to make that choice. I also have friends who suffer from depression, anxiety, bipolar disorder and perhaps other mental illnesses I know nothing about. I worry about them. I worry when they get to quiet and when they stay away too long. I wonder if my phone is gonna ring with the grief of a parent or sibling telling me they’ve chosen their own final act on the stage of life— I am sometimes terrified by the knowing… the knowing that no matter how beautiful, intelligent, witty and resourceful I find you— that if you don’t see it in yourself what I think doesn’t matter.
I thought of all the times I was afraid to be me. How I worked hard to be acceptable and appropriate and good. Acceptable and appropriate and good do not benefit the folks who are being confined to it. I was bombarded with memories of the struggle to return to me. How it took my whole life to get back to a little girl with almost just right shoes so I could free her from the irrational, suffocating expectations of other people.
So, first we have to acknowledge the facts. We are plus size. We are overweight. We said we wanted to lead a more healthy lifestyle. We KEEP saying we want to lead a more healthy lifestyle. We had three seasons to get our life together. Fall, Winter and Spring have passed. We didn’t get our life together. To that end, we are still chubby. Is there anything wrong with that? Nope— Unless you want to be something else.
You know…. I almost posted a different blogpost, but then that would be compromising my entire purpose and mission. I don’t want to look or sound a particular way to those of you who read my words and keep up with me. I don’t want to portray a woman who always has perfect brows and hair with a fully beat face. I refuse to act like every day of my life is rainbows, glitter and baby giggles. I’m not playing a character on this blog or other social media platforms and I don’t want to. I want to BE who I say I am. And sometimes I’m a mess.
When people we know, like and or love behave badly we want answers. I honestly think it’s a natural response. Inquiry and curiosity are tools we use to acquire information and keep ourselves safe. We assess situations and people and leverage a judgement based on what we know. BUT… How can we do that if we don’t know what happened and why?
I thought I had somehow been cheated. I’m supposed to be in charge of everybody for the purpose of making life perfect. My thinking was unreasonable, unattainable and unfair to everyone, especially me. If you say you want to be happy, but can’t seem get happy and stay in that space; it’s probably because you are pursuing something other than happiness. For me, it was the ideals of marriage and motherhood; not the reality. I, with all my intellectual prowess, managed to confuse perfection with happiness. Too many make the same mistake.
I cannot imagine the turmoil, the pain, the absolute heartbreak of her absence in my life. As Mother’s Day approaches many will be faced with the reality of more than “almost”. They will wake up every single day with their beloved mothers still in heaven. While the Christian thing to do is to rejoice knowing that she is with her heavenly father… the heart of a motherless child can hardly find peace; let alone rejoice.
Since emotionally bankrupt people will never stop making withdrawals-- You need to close their account. Walk away. You don’t owe them. Even financial institutions limit the number of times an account can be overdrawn. Banks lend with the absolute expectation that what they lend is coming back. In fact, they require an additional fee in the event you don’t return what you took. And after all that, if you still refuse to make good on the obligation, what does the bank do? THEY CLOSE YOUR ACCOUNT.
Today I am writing to reach the sensibilities and cognitive capabilities of good White folks. The power to change the status quo lies primarily with you. You need to say something... At your dinner tables, at your school board meetings, at the deli counter. You know racists. Your neighbors, family and friends express racially charged sentiments that apologetically end with, “you know what I mean.” Or “I don’t mean it like that. You know I’m not racist.” You must call them out.
As I placed my hand on the doorknob to leave; he pounced around the corner out of nowhere. I immediately asked about the girls and the housekeeper. The girls were gone and he had given the housekeeper the day off. His wife, a doctor, was at the hospital. I felt uncomfortable. I didn’t know why.
