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.
This translates in adulthood to women who are environmental chameleons. Code switching as a dating mechanism. Ugh. A woman who transforms into who she thinks the man would find most agreeable. This is really so so tragic. It is a prison of your own design. This is why I cringe every single time I see a video of a man telling a woman how to find a man. It would be far more advantageous if she knew how to find herself. Maybe that’s not what the men in these videos really want… A woman who values her own identity more than she values attaching herself to a man to gain it. Yeah… That part.
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.
The Other Women In His Life. I know this is a touchy area so I’m going to speak carefully. His momma is his momma baby girl. A man who loves his mother or his grandmother??? Yessssss!!! #IssaWin That man is going to love you deep. Yes… He will look for comparisons and connections. No. You are not his mother and you never will be, BUT he has chosen you as a reflection of her. She has built the best foundation for him to love you. She literally gave him life. Why do you resent the relationship? Why don’t you like her?
LISTEN…. I was stuck after she said her children were waiting on her to die so they could have her stuff. Like, is this what seniors… what older parents are worried about??? Are children really taxing their beloved parents with worry about only wanting their possessions? Are children really only seeing their parents when they need or want something? Are children teaching their own children the same behavior? Because you know they’re watching you; right? They know your mother and or father live right down the street, but you won’t throw a glass of water when you ride by. You know you will be on the receiving end of this one day; right? Ok then.
Marriage is a promise… a commitment in every moment to hold on to one another. It has nothing to do with how you feel. This isn’t directly discussed often enough. People feel shame about the state of their marriage because everyone wants to be viewed as #RelationshipGoals. In my opinion, #RelationshipGoals isn’t a couple who never shares a curt word, an exasperated tone or a rolled eye. #RelationshipGoals is when a couple has experienced a shaking, a disruption to everything that is comfortable, but still manages to see each other through it… minus resentment.
Maybe I’m a little old fashioned in this area. I don’t know. Getting a hand written note will literally bring a tear to my eye. All this texting and technology has taken so much of the human element out of what should be very personal interactions. Typed thank you cards??? I know it’s the quick way to do it. Have all the thank you cards pre-printed, sign them and just drop them in the mail. I’m not judging you. I’m just saying. The people in attendance didn’t take the quick way. They were thoughtful in their scheduling and they found money in their budget for you. You need to say thank you appropriately.
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!
I am fighting with all my might to dodge the grumpy old man in me, but he’s a feisty son of a gun. I tried to use one of my strategies to avoid negative engagement. I cooked dinner for these people. I retired to my room. I didn’t even eat. Guess what my wonderful, loving husband did? He devoured his food at lightening speed and followed me upstairs. I am intently working. I would like to finish writing. Perhaps then I could enjoy a bath and maybe an adult beverage. He entered the room, walked over to the television and turned it on. Then, he started talking to 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.
This is a journey that parents and children often take. It can be a tough lesson for every one to receive, understand and accept. Especially fathers, who regularly get a bad rap for being too tough, too hard and too emotionally removed. Children, remember that your fathers are there. Sometimes, unequipped to say what needs to be said in a way that you can hear, but still wrought with the desire to see you in the midst of the fog. Make sure that your hand is outstretched so that you can find each other through it all.
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.
UPDATE: I am still proud to be a Starbucks customer. It turns out-- they don't like having a dirty kitchen. Their decision to address potentially racist business practices and provide implicit racial bias training to partners in 8,000 stores is courageous and unprecedented. Is it gonna unilaterally halt racism? Absolutely not. If you read the comment section of their Facebook page you can see just how pervasive racism is in this country. Folks, who don’t even drink Starbucks, are outraged that this business would acknowledge racism and do their part in bringing it to and end.
While I’m on this journey I’m going to tell you the truth. You know, you look at folks who lost the weight and kept it off. People post pictures in the gym or on the track, but we rarely discuss the setbacks, the double cheeseburgers and the days you give up. You see triumphant folks who've met a goal, but you don’t consider all that they went through to get to that point. You see them fit, healthy and you compare their relative success to your failure. Thing is… you’re looking at an incomplete picture. And yo! Stop comparing yourself to other people anyway! Yes, I yelled at you.
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.
