Convictions

Man. I haven't posted here in awhile. Tons of reasons -- mostly tumblr. But I've always thought of this blog as my place of depth. Tumblr is good for those quick hits -- thoughts that are too long for twitter but not thought out enough for here.

Guess I haven't been doing a lot of deep thinking.

I have done quite a bit of learning over the last several days. Right after things initially began to happen, my first instinct was to blog about it. I have always come here to help myself process the crazy things going on in my life. I have frequently found myself searching for keywords on my own blog looking for inspiration or some advice from my own mouth (they say it's always harder to take your own advice).

But every time I sat down to write this post, I stopped. I think I was a bit embarrassed. On the one hand, I've shared some pretty personal stuff here, but on the other hand I've always been able to do so cautiously. There's no way to do that this time. There's also the issue that at this point, I don't know who reads this blog -- if anyone does anymore. I know there are people I know personally who come here. Some because I gave them the link and others because they've cyberstalked me long enough to find it.

I decided to share this because, ultimately, it's a life lesson that I hope I remember and if my mistake can help someone else -- good.

What I learned had several parts to it. The biggest was: it's ok to have strong convictions about something. Often our convictions are security blankets. They protect us from things we're not prepared to handle. Sometimes they just protect us from crazy. Just like I believe we should respect others' beliefs and convictions, we should respect our own.

I have written, previously, about a guy -- W. It's hard to describe our relationship. Over the past several years, it has been very complicated. It has involved marriage proposals, intimate conversations, lies, brave honesty and so much more. But I think I always thought that despite our missed connections and the fact that he seemed to always be unable to vulnerable enough to admit his feelings for me, we were friends. Not necessarily close, but still friends. I felt like I could call him if I ever needed anything.

W and I haven't spoken in a while. He briefly text me a few months ago -- the conversation really went nowhere and felt very pointless, but it was classic behavior for him that I read as attention-seeking so I didn't think much about it.

While home visiting my mom and family for the holidays, a friend hit me up and asked if I'd join her and her brother for drinks. Initially I declined saying I was already out and too far away, but she mentioned that W would be there and so I figured I'd make it happen because I had a feeling I wouldn't see him otherwise.

From the moment he arrived he was flirting very heavily with me, which isn't unlike him. I was mildly annoyed because he began to act a bit too possessive for my tastes, but he's always doing something out of the ordinary, so I ignored it.

After drinks, W invited me back to his place. I agreed -- it was late, and I was well aware of what I was doing and what it implied. I didn't have any specific intentions, but I figured I'd see where the night led.

I don't talk about sex very much on this blog -- and I have prefaced almost all my commentary on the subject with that same point. But what is true about me and sex is that I find it to be a very personal act. I have people in my life who would talk about it, and all of the "it" they've had until the cows come home and with no problem. While I talk freely about sex in general, talking about it as it specifically pertains to me has always been something I was less comfortable with. I've always held it in high esteem and always felt that no matter the circumstance, it should be a respected act -- I think the way people devalue it contributes negatively to a society and culture that already has a hard time dealing with sex and it's consequences (good and bad).

As a personal rule of thumb, I typically don't have sex outside of a committed relationship. That is not a hard and fast rule, but it's something I do try to work with and I think it's helped me out a lot. Including in this relationship with W. Sex has come up and it has mostly come up without coming up, but I've always felt convicted that I needed to be careful around him with that. On this night, however, for whatever reason, I didn't think about it. I just did it -- and immediately after, I knew it was the wrong thing and I felt sick about it.

I really don't know what I was thinking -- maybe I felt too comfortable with him. Maybe I felt like while we aren't in a committed relationship, he and I have been doing SOMETHING for a while and that should mean something with regards to sex. Or maybe I just wanted to so I did. I really don't know... I really don't.

As I prepared to go, I started telling him I thought he was a jerk. There was something about the way he seemed very uninterested in me as a person right after, that didn't sit right with me. I am a counselor and I do tune into the things people do unconsciously. He claimed he didn't know why so many people thought he was a jerk and he insinuated that I'd hurt his feelings, but I could read him from a mile away. I dealt with an emotionally abusive person before and I know when someone is trying to flip something around on you to make it your fault.

Eventually, to prove my point, I asserted that I knew he'd probably had meaningless sex with someone recently and he said he had. I asked him who -- thinking it would be the neighbor he'd mentioned -- but was shocked to hear him say "L" the name of the friend who'd invited me out that night.

She and I aren't close friends. We went to high school together and we've maintained connections over the years. We're cool and we certainly respect each other. She knew that W and I had a strange relationship and I knew that W had previously tried to get with her, but she'd told me then she had no interested in him and I'd been told nothing to make me think anything had changed.

Appalled, embarrassed and angry, I got up and left. I was sick about it all night and into the next day. I just didn't know what to do.

Out of nowhere, L text me to say she really needed to talk to me because she had information she needed to share. Turns out she and W had been "talking" or working on being a serious committed relationship for about a month. I felt like I'd been sucker punched. He flirted all night with me, with her sitting right there. I called another friend who'd been there and she confirmed that not only was he all over me, but that there was no indication that anything between L and W was going on.

Her story made a lot of things make sense. Like why he asked me not to tell anyone and why he blew my phone up the next day (I didn't want to talk to him because I was so upset about it). It even made me think twice about comments he made, seemingly out of the blue, about L and I.

Initially I struggled over whether or not to tell her what happened. I didn't want to get any more involved in the mess, and I was still embarrassed. I felt like I looked like an idiot. But I realized that if nothing else, she needed to know what she was dealing with and that he couldn't be trusted.

L and I are cool. She subsequently had it out with W and he of course blamed me. Claimed he'd passed out and I popped up in his bed all over him before he could say anything. Even claimed that I started talking about how bad I felt about it -- which, while I did, I never conveyed to him because I couldn't articulate why.

But now I'm left wondering why. Of all the people and all the situations, why me and why did I allow myself to do that, knowing that's not my speed, and it's not my thing.

I'm also upset that I've truly lost a friend -- or maybe I'm realizing I never had a real friend. He was motivated by selfishness through and through. And while I realized that from the jump, I never thought his selfishness would be used to purposefully hurt another person, just because he could. For me, this has felt like loss on several fronts.

But I did learn a huge lesson on convictions and now I have hard evidence that what I'm convicted about is important in terms of keeping me emotionally safe. Everyone isn't convicted about the same things. There are things in life that don't bother me; that I just don't care about that really matter to people I know. Different strokes for different folks -- and that's fine. Just as long as you know what works for you and stick with that, I think you'll always come out on top.

Beefs, frenemies and BFFs – the ever evolving challenges of friendship

Two years ago, OneChele at Black 'N Bougie asked me to do a guest post. After Iyanla's "Fix My Life" part 2 episode with Evelyn, I thought I should re-post it. It really is some of my better work.

What's the old saying? "People come into your life for a reason, a season or a lifetime." It's really a feel good statement. It helps us recognize that not everyone is supposed to be in our lives forever. It can keep us on the lookout for those people who, if we let them stick around for awhile, might drain us of all the goodness we can muster in a sometimes not so good world. I mean this is a really good saying, full of all kinds of...uhh... well... stuff that makes clichés good. The only problem with it is it doesn't do the best job of explaining how you know which person fits into which category.

I actually believe we had it right as kids. Do you remember when you were younger and another kid would walk up to you and ask to play with the toy you were playing with and ended their request (which, now that I think about it, was more often a demand) with "I'll be your friend..."? I do. I think we had it right back then. Simple. Very simple. You give me that toy, we'll be friends. You don't give me that toy and we won't be friends. As adults we can hear all the nuances in that. The manipulation, the suggested temporary time limit, etc... but as kids, it was straightforward. When the toy was done with, the friendship had run its course -- unless the two of you found something else you both liked -- then the friendship kept going and if you realized that you seemed to always like doing the same things, well, eureka! Lifelong friend. No muss, no fuss.

Sometime during middle and high school, though, we learned that there's nothing simple about friendships. Your BFF today might be your greatest enemy tomorrow. Your enemy from yesterday? Oh, we like her now. Makes me think of a time in high school...

My Senior year in high school my then BFF had some serious beef with another girl in our class, Amanda. The specific details are lost but it had something to do with the fact that rumor had it Amanda was trying to push up on the then-BFF's ex. One random afternoon I was at her house, as usual, lying across her bed. We'd played the "what will we do tonight?" game ad nauseum and I was about to give up and go home. Out of nowhere then-BFF whirls around in her chair and says, "do you have Amanda's number?" I scrunched up my face and slowly nodded yes. "Well, call her and see if she wants to hang out with us tonight."

Flabbergasted is not the word for what I was feeling. I just knew she had some sort of really bad plan in mind that involved humiliation on a level that only a high school girl can create. I asked, "why do you want to hang out with her? I thought you didn't like her." Then-BFF just laughed, like I'd told a really funny joke, and responded, "Oh. That was last year! We've moved on from that." That night was the first night of many that Amanda kicked it with the then-BFF and I, as if we'd all been lifelong buddies. There was never an explanation, never a conversation. Everything just kept trucking like it all made sense.

Of course, what I fail to mention is that Amanda joined our 3-musketeer routine in part because we had an opening. See, the then-BFF had just kicked the other BFF out of the group. Friends become enemies and enemies become friends and you have no idea why.

I remember being very excited about going to college because of all the mature adults I would meet. People who were ready to put aside childish things and be for real about creating and maintaining real and true friendships. Boy was I wrong. College seemed to be the perfect opportunity for everyone to practice all the manipulation skills they learned in high school. And this post-graduate life? Well, look no further than the desk one over from you, or the cubicle behind you. We don't do friendships anymore. Like I said -- we had it right on the playground in elementary school.

Through trial and error, I've come up with a few "rules of thumb" and a handful of questions one might ask themselves as they navigate the treacherous "friendship" waters.

First, keep it simple. Friendships don't have to be overly complicated and it's usually about the time they get complicated that it's a good sign that it might be time to let go.

Second, don't be afraid to cut ties. This is one I struggle with. I'm not a fan of burning bridges -- and that's not what I'm suggesting. Rather, don't be afraid to tell a person (as a friend told me once, about another person) "you may be a good person, you're just not good for my life." If it doesn't feel like a good fit, it probably isn't. You wouldn't buy a pair of shoes that hurt your feet would you? Then why stick around in a friendship that's no longer working for you?

Third, don't be afraid to fight for a friendship. I know, I know -- this seems to fly in the face of what I just said, but all relationships hit rough patches. It's ok to want to fight for a friendship. Good friends, true friends don't come by all that often. If you have one, do your part, hold up your end of the deal and don't be afraid to fight for it.

Ok, ok, you're thinking, we know how to do friendships, but what about knowing what kind of friendship we're in?

Good question grasshopper. I'm glad you asked.

The reason that handy dandy cliché doesn't do much by way of explaining how you know who is who is because it's not cut and dry. You don't mix in a little baking soda and get your answer. But you can ask yourself a few questions...

Do you find yourself talking to this friend but really having nothing to say? Perhaps there was a period of time, typically before some major event, where you guys had all kinds of things to talk about but now, after this event, there's nothing to say at all. Lots of empty (and uncomfortable) dead space? More than likely this was a friend who was in your life for a reason. The tricky thing about "reasonal" (yes, I made that up) friends is sometimes they can grow to something more, if everyone puts in the effort. Be careful not to trick yourself into thinking that a friendship can be more than it is without any real work. All relationships take work.

Is this friendship on an even keel? Do you feel like you're giving more than you take (or, perhaps, taking more than you give)? If the friendship's not on an even keel and hasn't been for a while even though it used to be, it's probably a good sign that this is a seasonal friendship.

A lifetime friend is probably not someone you need a checklist for. They're the ones you struggle to imagine your life without. The ones you call first (or second, if you're lucky and have more than one) when something major happens. They've seen you cry, seen you happy. They're encouraging in times of doubt and honest when you're a bit too gassed up. They're far from perfect and they piss you off sometimes, but even then you appreciate what they bring to your life.

The biggest mistake we sometimes make is ignoring the signs. Wanting a seasonal friendship to be more than it is (without putting real work into it). Allowing people who are in our life for only one reason to stay around for more reasons until they've sucked us dry. We have to take stock of what's going on in our space because if we don't, we relinquish control.

To close, let me fill in some holes from the story I told earlier...

While we never had a conversation about why Amanda was suddenly cool (or why Lauren, the ousted friend, suddenly wasn't) I realized in the weeks before graduation that then-BFF had a master plan that involved a lot of trickery you'd never expect a high schooler to be capable of. Everything had been calculated. (This is a story for another time, but let's just say she managed to not only convince a girl her boyfriend was cheating on her, but get him to admit to it when he didn't actually cheat) When then-BFF realized Lauren was too much of a threat she put her on the outs and when she realized I wouldn't be a good fit for what she needed (someone to accept a lot of lies without asking questions) she called on an unsuspecting person -- Amanda.

Before we made it to our first year of college, then-BFF had stopped talking to me. She never told me why and I never got a chance to ask. In the years that followed I deduced that she had a much better handle on our friendship than I did. I was seasonal. I served my purpose, she let me go. I'd been following along, watching the way she dropped "old" and "trusted" friends like they were nothing, thinking our friendship was bigger and better than that. Truth was, it wasn't and if I'd spent more time paying attention and less time being self-assured, I probably would've seen the hammer before it knocked me out.

Good Morning Family

As I'm getting older, Christmas is getting to be less and less... Christmas-ish.

Mom hasn't put up any decorations in years and that's never fazed me. We buy stuff for each other all year so by the time we get to Christmas there's nothing to buy. She usually gives me cash and mentions an item or two she wants.

And now with me being back closer to home, I'm here frequently so even just the fact that I'm here is no... well... big deal.

But that doesn't change the fact that what happened between us this morning was ridiculous. This isn't what should be going on during this time of the year.

One of my favorite quotes about self is, "I'm checking for what you're not saying..." in other words, I'm big on tone of voice and body language. My mom thinks she's slick or maybe she doesn't get tone of voice and body language, but I can ALWAYS tell when she's on the verge of having an attitude. I can't get her to see what the warning signs are and over the years, I react just as strongly to the warning signs as to any actual attitude. That's what occurred this morning.

For the first time ever, my mom told me to go to hell and I responded to her by saying "you first..." It's not what she said, it's that she said it. It's that whenever we argue she's always going for the low blows. Anything to piss me off or hurt my feelings. She doesn't fight fair.

I'm not better, I'm fighting back in the same way because it's almost all I know to do and that's absurd. I have tools and techniques for how to deal with this, and with almost anyone else I employ them without a second thought. Her? Nope. No dice. She's almost the only person in the world who can get to me on that level.

I think it's all only made worse by how different we are when it comes to dealing with this. I want to talk it out. I wanna be heard. She's content to being mad and moving on. You can't talk to her when she's mad and you can't talk to her after she moves on. So basically you can't talk to her.

I remember once we got in a physical fight. A friend came and got me and later I went back home to pack some stuff to leave for the night. I expected her to ask me where I was going when she saw the bag or call me that night when I didn't come home. I don't think she even noticed when I got back. That's a lonely feeling and it's how I feel every time this happens and I need to talk about it but she won't.

What a way to wake up...

Coping Mechanisms

After you read this, head over to The Outlook and check out my commentary on Lincoln Heights.

Damon did a bit of a rant today on This May Concern You about Steve Phillips' jump off mistress and the attacks on her looks. An excerpt:

If your significant other were to ever cheat on you, wouldn’t you want that other person to look better than you? Wouldn’t that make you feel better?

When it comes down to it, I wouldn’t care what the other guy looked liked or what he did. I’ll admit that there was a time — long ago — when that type of stuff may have mattered some. But at this point in life, it’s inconsequential. I see stuff like cheating and adultry in black and white. That said, I don’t think we should be paying that much attention to Hundley’s looks and comparing them to his wife, either (But this is America. She looks terrible and this is what we do).

Here’s why: Comparing oneself — be it looks, education, earning potential or social status — to the competition is one of the most frivolous things we do as people. When you start trying to understand why someone decides to go outside of his/her relationship, the primary place you need to search is the guilty party within the relationship.

Too often people get caught up in that game of “How could he go there with her when I am/look 20 times better than her?” when the question mark in the query should come after the word “there.”

Before futher commentary, first a story.

I've already mentioned that after our relationship ended, J began dating a guy. Go back with me...

It was about 4am when I heard my phone buzzing on the table, near my head. I hadn't long been asleep and my first instinct was to ignore, but something (probably the fact that I'm unable to ignore my phone, all the time) made me grab it. It was from J, whom I'd spoken to earlier. We'd actually had a good conversation which, at that time, had become fewer and far between. I had gotten off the phone because I had a play date with some friends. J asked me to call him back when I got in, but I warned him it would be late. "I don't care. Just call me," he responded. I had no intentions of calling him back, though -- I was playing a game with him then, that I would never play with anyone now. I needed to prove that I was getting over him (we weren't officially together).

Confused and concerned about why he was texting me at 4am (but assuming he was upset I hadn't called him back) I opened the text. It was 4 pages that amounted to, "I'm gay..." I re-read the text message to make sure I was reading it correctly and then I sorta went numb. I had no idea how to feel or operate, but anger wasn't an emotion I considered. While I was extremely upset that he chose to text me something like that, the rational side of me (surprisingly) was the louder voice and it wanted me to try to be supportive.

A 2 hour phone call ensued and it did not go well, at all -- the details are for another post, but in the end he called me names, threatened to kill himself and hung up the phone. The next morning I found out that he'd gotten into a car accident and was in the hospital. Within a month, his parents had sent him to rehab out in California and that began a whole new chapter of issues for us, the details of which, again, are for another post.

In the meantime, I had to figure out what to make of the fact that J was gay. He attempted in the early portion of our phone call, and in subsequent conversations and e-mails to convince me that everything had been real and that he did love me. I wanted to believe him, but I quickly began realizing that everything had not been real. So much so that some things J wasn't even sure what had been a lie and what had been the truth. I needed some coping mechanisms.

At first, I attempted to just be the bigger person. I tried to be supportive of him all the while trying to make sure I wasn't going to crack. Eventually, I gave into the bitter side of me that wanted to make J hurt. A year later, though, I still wasn't over it and so I resorted to convincing myself that no matter what he was saying or doing, I still had been a better match for him than his then-current boyfriend. I sent a friend to his facebook profile (I had long removed him from my friend list) to scope out who she thought might be the new beau. The e-mail I received had a picture titled "yuck" and the new guy was not a looker. I was actually surprised as he was nothing like what I imagined J might be attracted to (but then again -- how would I have known?) and so began a host of conversations with friends that, at some point, included the phrase "Wow, the least he could've done was get somebody better looking than you..."

That was the way I was coping with things I hadn't yet figured out how to deal with. I had put up quite the front for my friends, pretending that J's revelation didn't really shake me to my core like it had and pretending that I'd moved on; I hadn't. I was still trying to wake up from the nightmare. Going to them to just talk about what I was feeling didn't seem like a viable option, but laughing along with them at J's new boyfriend did seem to work.

Our coping mechanisms don't always make much sense, but I don't think they're supposed to. If we understood how to truly deal with the issue at hand, we wouldn't need coping mechanisms. In the long run, I really had to be honest with myself that no matter what I said, I wasn't over J. Despite his sexuality, I still had feelings for him (compounded by his inability to decide if he was really "just gay") and I needed to figure out if I could live with that or if I couldn't. That wasn't an easy thing to do, but once I did, I found I no longer needed those ridiculous and silly coping mechanisms. There was nothing to cope with.

Sometimes we need to reassure ourselves that we are "worthy" and there's nothing wrong with us and we use other people's shortcomings to do so. For the most part, we'd frown on someone doing that, but when it comes to being cheated on or left, we seem to accept it. However you have to feel better about yourself is how you have to do it, we seem to think. We should want better for ourselves; we should want to deal with issues so that we can move on. Coping mechanisms are temporary fixes for our ego; we should be looking for permanent fixes.

Apologies

Chris Brown Apologizes publicly to Rihanna?

Folks are suggesting this is Chris Brown's public apology to Rihanna... not sure about all that, but we all know what it's like to feel so sorry for something you did and not be able to do anything but say "I'm sorry..." and feel inadequate.

Staying

This Destiny's Child album (The Writings on the Wall) came out in 1999... just so everyone can feel as old as I do, because I STILL love this joint. I found an obnoxious one with the lyrics for kicks.

Anyway, YAY for me doing 2 posts in one day.

What actually inspired this is thinking about the Chris Brown/Rhianna situation. I'm going to follow the lead of a lot of my fellow bloggers and refrain from commenting on it. It's obvious and no need to beat a dead horse. However, I'm starting to read what looks like the beginnings of some criticism of Rihanna for taking him back. Clearly nothing about this situation, with the exception of Chris Brown being sorry, has been validated, and in that vein, everything is very much hypothetical, so I won't speak in terms of Chrihanna, I'll talk in terms of... well.. you and me. Us regular folks.

I clearly don't advocate taking someone back after they've abused you. Neither physically nor emotionally, neither sexually nor financially (yes, financial abuse is possible). No sort of abuse is ok or excusable and without the appropriate help, no one should take someone back if they have abused them.

But I speak from a personal standpoint when I say I completely understand why someone might. It's easy to believe that the other person will be different this time, that they are sorry (and I'd even go so far as to say most times they probably are, in that moment) and that they will change. I did it time and time again. I was never physically abused, but I was emotionally and I didn't even understand what was going on at first. I always thought he would change. I always thought that **this** time he understood what I was saying when I said "when you do [insert issue] it hurts my feelings..." I was wrong and it took awhile for me to really understand myself what was happening.

I say all that to say that in a situation where someone returns to an abuser, it's easy to be critical. It's easy to stand on the other side of the situation and see all the warning signs. We all do it, I've done it, even with my own history, and when children are involved, I have NO patience and CAN'T understand. However, I think it does the other person a greater service to try be patient with them. We all understand that when a person's life is in danger patience isn't an option, but I can tell you that yelling at them and telling them what an idiot they are for going back without just taking a moment to look at it from the other side doesn't do anyone a favor.

Tokens

I started another post, and got sidetracked by a ridiculous amount of pointless meetings.

I don't like being the token black kid. I do it, though, because... well, I'm not sure.

But really what I don't like is when people act like that's not what's happening.

What brought this on, you ask?

I've been asked to sit in on a meeting next week that I'm not needed in so I can be a like-faced representative of our office.

Token black kid.

I've just decided to address this issue with one of my managers. It's not that I'm uncomfortable, I'm happy to sit in on the meeting. Black folks like seeing other black folks. Everyone, however, in the room will know why I'm there and I know they will be insulted... I'm a little insulted. Hell, I'm not sure how I feel. Somewhere between surprise and insult, I think.

I hope I finally get to do at least ONE of the posts I've been wanting to do. Lord help me.

Daddy Issues

I have like 3 or 4 other things that I keep saying I'm going to blog about, but this one is sticking with me right now.

Glennisha did a post about her relationship with her father and that got me to thinking...

I think of all the blogs I've had over the years (and from 1999-present, I've had QUITE a few) I've never talked about my father. Not in passing, not on accident, not jokingly... nothing. I think it's just a testament to how much he isn't a part of my life. I don't think about him hardly ever. He doesn't cross my mind. I don't wonder what he's doing. It's hard for me to even imagine what life would be like if he played a larger role. The ever-psychoanalyzing side of me, however, thinks it's more 'cause it's easier this way than just your run of the mill "it is what it is" attitude.

At 22, I've seen my father twice. Once when I was in the 3rd grade and then again the summer after. He spent 2 weeks with us the first time and 3 months with us the second time. He left and that was that. He called me a couple of times. One time sticks out in my brain pretty hardcore. I was young. Had to be only 9 or 10. He called and the convo was something like this:

Him: How are you?
Me: Fine.
Him: I'm going to start calling you more
Me: [Silence] (even as a young child I could pick up on some B.S.)
Him: You don't believe me?

I could hear that he was hurt thinking I didn't believe him. At 22, I know how to make a person think I do believe them when I don't, but at 9 I thought (and, maybe rightly so) that you had to really believe someone to say you did and so I immediately believed him. That was the end of that.

The next time I spoke to him I was 16, and in the 11th grade. By this time I had met 2 of the 7 half-sisters I had that no one (not even my mom) told me about (that'll be a story for another post). He had re-married and relocated from AL to CA. Palo Alto, CA, to be exact. As luck (for SERIOUS lack of a better word) would have it, that year I went to Stanford for their first (or maybe second) hosting of Harvard's Model Congress. I found my father's number, and contacted him shortly before my trip, against my mother's will, to tell him I was coming. He seemed excited.

I got to San Francisco and called him again. He asked me not to call his home anymore. Apparently (though he totally beat around the bush with his explanation) he didn't want his wife to know I had the number and was calling. But he promised he would pick me up for dinner that night.

So as my friends and chaperones are making plans for dinner, I keep saying I won't be going because my dad is coming. Lucky for me I had some responsible chaperones who didn't want to leave me until they knew he was coming. He never called, he never showed. That was when it clicked. I understood that no matter what, he had his priorities and I wasn't one of them. I also understood why my mom had been so against me reaching out to him because she knew all that too.

That was 2003. I haven't spoken to him or had any other form of contact with him since then. He called my mom a few months ago. He asked about me and my mom told him if he wanted to know how I was doing, he needed to call me. Like I said, I haven't spoken to him since 2003.

You know, it is what it is. I'm always shocked at how shocked others are when they ask me if I have contact with my father and I say no. It seems like second nature to me. Do I have Daddy issues? Hell yeah. I think we all do. Have I handled them in the best way? Probably not -- we don't come equipped with knowing how to handle abandonment, but I think I've made the best of a not so wonderful situation. Lord knows it could've been WAY worse. I used to always say that I felt like I used his absence as fuel to my fire. I needed to succeed and be good at whatever I set out for to prove that I could.

These days, it's usually something like Glennisha's post or questions that make me think about him. Otherwise, he would probably never cross my mind...

Being the Smartest? Friend You Can Be

Most of my blogs, as anyone who has read a few of them will see, come from things going on in my life. So I use this space as an area to ask the tough questions and maybe someone out there who reads it will have a different way of looking at it and share that with me (hey, that sounds like a better "about this blog" than my current one...) On to the post!

Recent (VERY RECENT) events got me thinking about the TYPE of friend I am. I've already delved into the "What About Your Friends" thing. What kind of friends we pick, what it means to lose a friend, all that... but what happened to me had me contemplating the SORT of friend I am. How do I, A.Smith go about being the type of friend that I choose to be.

Without too much detail on what happened (cause, really, it's not important) I had a moment (make that many moments) where I felt played, emotionally. I don't think this fact about me comes through via my blog, but I go hard. I go hard for people I love. So in these moments where I was basically questioning everything I believe to be true about friendship, I came to some brief conclusions:

1) I am the best person I know at being a good friend.

2) I have good friends, but none of them are as good a friend to me, as I am to them... they've all had their shining moments, but none of them are thorough like me.

3) I'm consistent. I "come through" all the time. Call me, need me and no matter what, I got you.
I've always been told and I really believe(d) that you get the type of friends that you are. It's why, over the years, I've grown to be what I think is an awesome friend. Please don't get me wrong, I'm not 100%... I speak before I think, I'm impulsive, I act now and ask questions later and those things (plus a host of other things) have led me to some of my worst moments as a friend. So I've definitely messed up in the past and envision messing up in the future, but when you take the fact that I'm CONSISTENT into account... I'm just a damn good friend.

So having an event in life make me re-think not only my view on friendships, but also my role as a friend was sort of an existential crisis. I don't know how to not "go hard" for my friends. It's how I show I care... so is it my responsibility to dial it back because it turns out that a)You don't always get the type of friends that you are and b)Our society clearly doesn't value friendship like I do? Or, do I just keep doing what I know how to do and hope that a)Eventually I find a friend like me and b)My friends start to appreciate me?

...Cause that's my other problem. My friends totally take me for granted. If ever they need me and I don't show, it's like hell opened up and the world is ending. I never hear the end of it. I'm made to feel guilty. But I don't do that to them when they, inevitably, aren't there when I need them. I've become the "go-to" person for almost everyone in my life and to have no go-to person of my own is STRESSFUL.

I've been told I do it to myself and this is possible, even probable, but I just don't know any other way. I don't know how to not be consistent. Being there for the people I care about is important to me and is, in some twisted way (that I should probably get worked out by a psychologist or something) the way I validate my place in this world. Unfortunately, giving of yourself and having no one to give back to you is hard. I have reached, in the past, my emotional "bottom" and it's an ugly, ugly place. I don't like how I feel in that place so I don't want to go back.

I have to figure out how to reconcile being a good friend with killing myself (cause, essentially, that's what I'm doing when I let my friends do as they please without concern for me). don't get me wrong, my friends aren't bad people. In fact, most of them are good (yeah, I said most) people but they just don't return to me all that I give. Is that my fault? Partially. People only do what they have to, and I've never demanded more, but I feel like I shouldn't have to. None of my friends ever had to sit me down and request that when they need me to sit up on the phone with them late into the night, or comfort them when they feel poorly or any of the other host of things I do for them and that's the way it should be. I do these things for them because I love them. Genuinely. So when do I get this back? Never? And if so, does that mean I need to stop?

My rambling is only indicative of how fresh this is for me and how I'm really no closer to answering any of this than I was a week ago before those "incidents."

The other thing (I just realized) that all this swirling around in my head has also made me realize is that I'm skeptical of a few people in my life that are supposed to be my good and close friends. I'm almost waiting for the other shoe to drop... I'm waiting on them to screw me over and leave me hanging and I don't want to be that way because I genuinely like seeing the good in people... but my history has me here... and I gotta get away from that, too...

More than likely, there'll be way more thoughts on this, soon.