Real Love

“I'm looking for love. Real love. Ridiculous, inconvenient, consuming, 

can't-live-without-each-other love.” - Carrie Bradshaw, Sex and the City

I love that quote. It describes that "love" that everyone seems to chase with reckless abandon. When you get older, you realize that life is not a fairy tale written by emmy winning television writers in a room on a movie production lot.

For a long time I did not know any happily married couples. Everyone I knew was either divorced, fighting an ugly custody battle over children or bashing their significant other to anyone who would listen. It is hard to keep a positive outlook when everyone is so negative. 

Then I met a couple who have been married for 30 years, all the children belong biologically to both of them and they are still happy. It made me feel good. After a little while I met another couple that was truly happy with each other, then another and slowly my faith started to return.

Then I started to look at myself and my own relationship. The quest for real love is something else. I am not searching for it but it would nice if it found me. Eventually, when I am really ready to receive it. 

The Mary J song was just in my head. It felt a little appropriate given the circumstances:

Until Next Time,
Peace & Blessings from  

Get Your Foot OFF My Neck!

I was floating. Literally.

The last few weeks had me floating on air. There was a smile on my face, a spring in my step and a glow that had not been there for quite some time. Without warning, without regard I suddenly feel like this picture.

Whoever said "words can never hurt me" flat out lied. Words have hurt me, rocked my unexpected happy-go-lucky-self like a buckshot straight to the gut. It shocked me back to that dark place, full of doubt, fear and self-questioning. Just when I had made it out, when it no longer hurt I am slung back into defense mode.

I knew there would trials and tribulations. It is not fair to judge before knowing all sides of the story but it is hard not to jump to conclusions when the negative seems like the truth. When you are back in a position that ended so badly the first go around.

This time...I need to handle it better. This time...I need to calm myself and seek peace before seeking the truth. This time...no matter the outcome, I will be okay when the world gets it's foot OFF my neck!!!

Facing Fear

Thanks to my fellow blogger and "sisterfriend" Lovebabz for this post. It was exactly what has taken my thoughts lately. For some strange reason my ex-husband wants to make sure I am aware of his rekindled friendships with the ex-girlfriends he cheated on me with.

I thought I was over my emotional baggage. Seeing his emails made me angry, and then they reminded me of the many reasons he now has "ex" in front of husband. I worked hard, scratch that, I worked DAMN hard to get through the emotional wreckage my so-called marriage left for me. I stayed in a 8 year marriage out of fear.

Yes, I can admit it. It was fear.

Fear kept me in a relationship with a man who was incapable of being emotional faithful to me. Fear had me wondering about what everyone else would think. Fear had me thinking no one else would love me. Fear had me begging this man to pick me. Now I can't imagine begging my own husband to pick me...after five years of marriage!

And now I guess he finds joy in sending me forwards with his ex-girlfriends' email addresses on them. Don't you just love technology?

I am not afraid anymore.

Now I know what kind of man he really is. He never deserved my love, and he never deserved the devotion that I gave him. Why is he sending me emails anyway? We are not friends and we do not have any children. I will not give him the satisfaction of blocking his emails. I will not give in to anger and fear.

I know my worth. I know that I am someone who deserves better. I am a woman who deserves to be given the same type of love that I offer. I will no longer be under the spell of someone who takes satisfaction in emotionally abusing me. I no longer share your name and I will no longer share your misery.

I am moving on. In fact, that is the poem from my last performance in March. I love how art imitates life. And the funny part is I didn't pick this poem, it was given to me and I rocked the HELL out of it:


Moving On

I am moving on
reaching toward my hopes and dreams
It has taken me far too long
to reach this place, it seems

My fears may try to hold me back
To try and block my way
But with courage and faith in my heart
I will get there come what may

The road will be a long one,
And it may be rocky, too
But when I reach this place in time,
My dreams could all shine through

I am coming nearer to my goals
And my excitement grows
The plans I have made will soon be real
Along with the destiny I chose

Though I have been tossed and turned in life's storms
I will surely see a brighter dawn
I'm no longer held back by my fears
I'm finally....Moving On

by Alan Murray

Backsliding, It's Not Easy Being Green

I confess. I hit a slick patch on my journey of happiness and I slid. Backslid, actually. I realize I not immune to backsliding but thought I had finally found myself on sure footing. My slip was not a slight slip of the foot, it was more like a tumble down a flight a stairs. Now I find myself thinking about my decisions and if they truly are good, solid decisions.

I know this post will sound vague and that makes sense because I meant for it to be vague. In my present state of mind I am not ready to make heads or tails of it. What I do know, what I thought I knew, slipped out from underneath me yesterday in a few long conversations that made no sense. Well, actually they did make sense but gave no clear resolutions.

The conversations left me feeling a little blue today, well maybe it was better stated that It's Not Easy Being Green. If you have been following me long enough you remember my fondness for great children's music and soundtracks. He says it better than I ever could...

Peace...Be Still

After a very emotional week, I received this simple title to an email and it made me sit back and take note of my life in its current state.

Last week two of my friends and sorority sisters (one of them my line sister) were dealt the blow of the death of their mothers and one of my uncles was admitted to the hospital. The death of a mother is something I believe no one can comfort you through. You grieve in your own time, and in your own way. Friends and family members can only listen and try to be there for you.

My uncle had to practically be threatened to go to the hospital were he found out his blood sugar level was 400. (BTW, your blood sugar level should only be 70-80)I have 5 uncles on my mother's side and each of them are special to me in their own way. This uncle however, is special because our personalities are very similar.

We are both loners to a certain point. At family gatherings it is not unusual to find us both in my aunt's den watching a game on the big screen while the rest of the family is chatting away (rather loudly) in other rooms. Although we do mix and mingle (and join in the noise level at times) we take our mingling in short doses ;-) In short, we understand each other.

His hospitalization shook me.

It made me look at my life and were I am in relative to were I want to be. I am starting over in almost every sense of the word. And to be honest, most of it frightens me. Even though I have "more options than I can shake a stick at" it still makes me wonder if I am staying on the path GOD has placed for me. Or, if I am so wrapped up in what I want that I am trying to create my own path?

Either way, I am fighting to keep that joy and peace of mind that I found earlier this year. No one can say it much better than this:

'Cause if I thought you were the end all
and my be all
I would've never left you alone
and I wouldn't be on my own
and I never, never would've grown

no, no, no ain't no way
you gone take away
My joy, and my peace, and my strength


Sing it Ms. Leela James.
Enjoy! (I know I did)

Love…Liberating or Limiting?

This was the timely topic of interest for Valentine's Day on a natural hair board I frequent. I had tossed around a few subjects for my next post and settled on this one since it has been weighing on me a lot lately.

Love and relationships should never be just flat out hard. Love is a choice that is made and given freely without expectations. You can love someone and not spend your life with them as a spouse or significant other. You can also love someone and not have them love you in return. I know plenty of people who say that their relationship is hard and trying all the time. I can’t help but ask why? I had a teacher in high school whose favorite quote was “Love should make you happy 90% of the time.” When complaining to a friend about my own relationship, this quote came back to me in a light bulb moment.

Maybe we do force ourselves to be in relationships that are not healthy. Often we get caught up in looks, the feeling of loneliness and the “I’m ready to be married/have a family because I’m _____ years old” mentality.

Love should come easily and should not be limiting. I was in a relationship that mirrored who I was and I did not like what I saw. Anger, emotional abuse, jealousy, trust issues and neediness that surpassed all traits of love. Imagine tensing up every time your spouse walks in the door? Crazy, right? Ironically, I receive the best kind of love from my friends. We have many conversations on the fact that you may pick your friends with greater sincerity than you pick your partner/spouse. Let me explain.

One of my friends is a man who I have known for almost 20 years. We made the decision to remain “just friends” about 4 years into our friendship. I love my friend tremendously and he has become a family member to me. We do not have to talk everyday or even once a month, but we always seem to find each other when one of us needs emotional support. We have no expectations on the other person; we are free to be the person we are rather it be weak, strong, hurtful or prideful. I was asked if we became friends because we wanted to have the other person in our lives for a lifetime and I had to think about it.

We have been friends through failed relationships, marriages, separations, deaths, births and career changes. I am sure we will continue to be friends for a long to come, so the answer would be yes. Yes, I picked him as a friend so I would have him in my life forever.

If friendships can be so liberating why can’t relationships? Do we really make a bigger investment in choosing our friends than we do our mates?

Used, Abused and Rescued

This is my Shiba Inu doing what he does best, relaxing. He is happy, spoiled in fact. He has his own room (his crate which hardly ever has the door closed), he has a toy box overflowing with toys that I constantly replenish (more on that later) and he goes for long walks and hikes with me regularly. I even participate with a Shiba Inu group of owners who get together to let their dogs play. When I look at him I sometimes think of everything he encountered before he came to live with me.

He is a rescue, meaning he went to a home as a young puppy. His original owner decided he would not fit into the life they envisioned and returned him to his breeder. He stayed with his breeder for four months until he came to live with me. I can’t imagine anyone not wanting him, he is a beautiful dog. Even though he can be a handful at times, he makes it bearable to enter an empty home after a long day of work.

This is my Guinea Pig who is also a rescue (in his upside down house he's chewed on ;-). He was supposed to be a pet for a friend’s daughter, but somehow ended up with me as well. He is my first guinea pig and is a learning experience. Like my Shiba, he first went to a home and after fathering a litter was returned to the pet store unwanted. He is also spoiled and has trained me to give him carrots when he bites at his cage and squeals (which brings my Shiba like he called his name).

I look around my house and realize that all of the living creatures that dwell there have been rescued. We are an interesting group, often misunderstood and returned because we were not what the original owners expected. How was I returned? I have separated from the person I thought I would spend my life with. Now, I understand that some people think that I have been returned and deem me used or unworthy.

Often people say that divorce or separation means that you are forever the spouse of the person you originally married. I am not sure I agree for a variety of reasons. Mainly because many of us enter into relationships knowing that we should not be there. We see the warning signs before we walk down the aisle but in an effort to save face and get what we desire, we make that walk anyway and spend countless years wondering why it just does not work out.

A friend of a friend once said “When it is wrong there is nothing you can do to make it right.” That is the only thing she says that I totally agree with. So now that I have been returned, I wonder how long it will take me to entertain the possibility of sharing my life again.

Right now I am happy with building my friendships and strengthening the other relationships I have neglected while trying to make my failing marriage work. But, God heals all and forgives all, right?

New Tricks

"You can't teach an old dog new tricks"

I like that quote. I always have. It motivates me to start and learn new things as I get older. I am starting a number of new things this year. The most important thing is that I will enter into a new decade (the 30's) and with that comes a new outlook. The others include:

1. I stepped out of retirement with a team I originally stepped with in my teens. (I am now retired again from stepping)

2. I had my first ballet class Saturday with my performance group. As a child I always wanted to take lessons, but we did not have the money.

3. I reconnected with old friends I have not spoken with in almost a decade.

Clearing the air with my friends and people I have dated has been a major breakthrough this year. My friends and I have mended wounds and tied loose ends that I thought would haunt me forever. I'm not sure what some of them thought when they received my emails, phone calls or letters, but I am glad that we were able to admit we were young and foolish and be able to move on. One of my friends is even helping me to write again. I only wish I was at the same level as they are. But I thank them for their help and support.

There is only one other friend I have not been able to contact to clear the air. Fear is a powerful motivator and I am not sure I am ready to cross that bridge as of yet. I am ready to admit I was wrong, but not sure that my friend is ready for the apology. It has been ten years and I am hoping that they remember me, but I am dreading the initial contact.

Missing You

Seven years ago today I received a voice mail that my Grandmother was dead. I was barely in my twenties and felt cheated that she left so early in my life. Getting that message by voice mail made the news even harder to digest.

My grandmother was like my mother and my mother is more like a sister. I’m not taking anything away from my mother, she was a mere teenager when she gave birth to me and we have grown up together over the years. “Granny” as I called her, was the woman who taught me to cook, put me on the bus in the morning, had dinner waiting when I got home in the afternoons and she made cakes with me during the holidays. You get the idea.

Every year around this time I drown in a sadness of missing my grandmother while everyone speaks of visiting their grandparents for the summer. I get mad at the world for the unfair hand I feel I was dealt and would give anything to “have one more conversation” when life seems to get the best of me.

After seven years I can finally make a cake alone without chocking myself with tears, and wrap up in the hand-made quilts she made me without crying myself to sleep.

Why the sad entry? To get someone to realize you must enjoy what you have while you still have it. If I had known I only had twenty-two short years I would have visited more, called more, just been around her more. The truly sad part is that I am the only grandchild that knew her well. I find myself using her quotes without thinking about it and referring to the talks we had to get my point across.

I’ll miss her until we meet again. Until then I hope to make her proud.