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.
Showing posts with label lessons. Show all posts
Showing posts with label lessons. Show all posts
12.28.2013
5.20.2013
Censorship...
This morning I re-posted a photo with the following quote:
I started blogging back in 2003/2004. Several of my friends jumped on the livejournal/xanga bandwagon really quickly, but I always wondered "who cares what's happening in your life and why do you want to put it on the internet, anyway?"
But the idea of keeping my thoughts and feelings about what was going on in my life spoke to me, and I eventually gave in. I've linked my first blog here, before, and talked about it in detail; it was certainly a labor of love. I held pretty tightly to the idea that ultimately, no one really cared to read my daily goings ons, but I didn't write to entertain. I wanted a record of my experiences and a place to be 100% honest.
By 2005, most of my friends knew about the blog and would read it every now and again. My boyfriend, at the time, knew about the blog as well. I'm not sure if it never occurred to me that he might read it or if I didn't think it would matter to him, but I began frequently posting about our relationship. Its' ups, its' downs -- mostly downs.
One night, he called me and we had one of the nastiest fights we ever had. There are things I realize now that I didn't realize then (like what it was that we were really fighting about) but I know that at the time, in the moment where we were arguing and calling each other nasty names and yelling, I was absolutely shocked that he was so angry.
I just didn't understand what would make him that upset when all I did was write down what we both knew had happened. I didn't quite grasp what was so jarring -- it wasn't as if he hadn't been there; it wasn't as if he was experiencing it for the first time or just becoming aware. I suppose, whether I knew it or not at the time, I truly learned that words mean things; words give power to things. For him, my explanation (and at this point, I no longer remember of what) of what happened made it real and it was that realness he wasn't ready for.
Over the years, I've found that trait of mine -- naming things -- to be a thing that most people come to hate about me. I don't do it to piss people off, I just know that words mean things and words have power (shoutout to @crissles for the inspo on that). Well I know that now in a very conscious way. I don't know that I knew that then -- back when I was running into this problem frequently -- in an above ground way. I think that at that time, I sorta looked at it like "it's not real until someone speaks about it."
It was and isn't about embarrassing someone. But words shine lights and give understanding to things and places that might not otherwise be understood. At the end of it, I'm really just trying to understand why people do what they do -- so I name what I see and look for feedback.
Just the other day I rubbed a friend the wrong way because I called her out on often wanting things to happen or be planned, but not wanting to plan them and then backing out when they've been planned. I didn't do it to embarrass her, but I felt like we'd beat around that bush long enough and it was just time to call a thing a thing.
However, if I'm truthful about it all, I admit that what's really happened is I've learned to censor myself. I save those "call a thing a thing" moments for when I don't see another way to make sense of something. I don't write about my friends very specifically as much as I used to. There are some friends (though they are so few -- fewer than I'd like) who don't know about this blog. I can't really hold on to that because all of my online lives have crossed paths in one way or another and anyone who wants to find where I spend my online time, can.
So I resist the urge to blog in detail about terrible decisions I've recently made (it's always easier to call a thing a thing for someone else than it is yourself), and I choose not to use words to breathe life into recent conflicts.
But maybe that will change again. It's true. These are MY stories and if people wanted better characterizations, then maybe they should've presented themselves differently in the first place; made different decisions.
You own everything that happened to you. Tell your stories. If people wanted you to write warmly about them, they should've behaved better.Initially I read it and kept scrolling, but something brought me back -- and then, truly, the last sentence really spoke to me.
I started blogging back in 2003/2004. Several of my friends jumped on the livejournal/xanga bandwagon really quickly, but I always wondered "who cares what's happening in your life and why do you want to put it on the internet, anyway?"
But the idea of keeping my thoughts and feelings about what was going on in my life spoke to me, and I eventually gave in. I've linked my first blog here, before, and talked about it in detail; it was certainly a labor of love. I held pretty tightly to the idea that ultimately, no one really cared to read my daily goings ons, but I didn't write to entertain. I wanted a record of my experiences and a place to be 100% honest.
By 2005, most of my friends knew about the blog and would read it every now and again. My boyfriend, at the time, knew about the blog as well. I'm not sure if it never occurred to me that he might read it or if I didn't think it would matter to him, but I began frequently posting about our relationship. Its' ups, its' downs -- mostly downs.
One night, he called me and we had one of the nastiest fights we ever had. There are things I realize now that I didn't realize then (like what it was that we were really fighting about) but I know that at the time, in the moment where we were arguing and calling each other nasty names and yelling, I was absolutely shocked that he was so angry.
I just didn't understand what would make him that upset when all I did was write down what we both knew had happened. I didn't quite grasp what was so jarring -- it wasn't as if he hadn't been there; it wasn't as if he was experiencing it for the first time or just becoming aware. I suppose, whether I knew it or not at the time, I truly learned that words mean things; words give power to things. For him, my explanation (and at this point, I no longer remember of what) of what happened made it real and it was that realness he wasn't ready for.
Over the years, I've found that trait of mine -- naming things -- to be a thing that most people come to hate about me. I don't do it to piss people off, I just know that words mean things and words have power (shoutout to @crissles for the inspo on that). Well I know that now in a very conscious way. I don't know that I knew that then -- back when I was running into this problem frequently -- in an above ground way. I think that at that time, I sorta looked at it like "it's not real until someone speaks about it."
It was and isn't about embarrassing someone. But words shine lights and give understanding to things and places that might not otherwise be understood. At the end of it, I'm really just trying to understand why people do what they do -- so I name what I see and look for feedback.
Just the other day I rubbed a friend the wrong way because I called her out on often wanting things to happen or be planned, but not wanting to plan them and then backing out when they've been planned. I didn't do it to embarrass her, but I felt like we'd beat around that bush long enough and it was just time to call a thing a thing.
However, if I'm truthful about it all, I admit that what's really happened is I've learned to censor myself. I save those "call a thing a thing" moments for when I don't see another way to make sense of something. I don't write about my friends very specifically as much as I used to. There are some friends (though they are so few -- fewer than I'd like) who don't know about this blog. I can't really hold on to that because all of my online lives have crossed paths in one way or another and anyone who wants to find where I spend my online time, can.
So I resist the urge to blog in detail about terrible decisions I've recently made (it's always easier to call a thing a thing for someone else than it is yourself), and I choose not to use words to breathe life into recent conflicts.
But maybe that will change again. It's true. These are MY stories and if people wanted better characterizations, then maybe they should've presented themselves differently in the first place; made different decisions.
3.06.2013
Life Lesson 18: Forgiveness Comes Easier Than Permission (sometimes)
Yesterday: Everyone Has A Guilty Pleasure
Today: Forgiveness Comes Easier Than Permission (sometimes)
"It's easier to ask for forgiveness than permission," goes the old adage. Basically, there are times when we just have to do something and plan to beg for forgiveness if it doesn't work out rather than wait for someone to give you permission.
I maybe operate too much in this line of thinking. I'm always doing something first and asking questions later. I just don't always care to convince someone to let me do what's right. Unless it's spelled out that I MUST ask first, I probably won't.
Sometimes the person who has to give you the permission won't fully understand what you're trying to do. Or maybe they just can't know. We all had the experience of wanting to go somewhere that we just KNEW our parents wouldn't approve of. Maybe it's because of who would be there or what would go on. So we bent the truth a little and got our way. And maybe we got busted -- but maybe we didn't. But it's the motivation for the lying that I'm talking about. As an adult, lying to our bosses or our friends or our significant others is just... ugh (not to imply people don't). Sometimes they just can't know why, they just need to say yes.
Of course not EVERYTHING you want to do that might get a no works. You could end up looking like a jackass, with no reprieve and no possibility of forgiveness. I always look at it like this: if this situation is one of those "if things work out the way I hope, then I won't need to explain a damn thing" situations, then go ahead. Otherwise, I probably just need to go back to the drawing board and drum up a bomb ass explanation.
Tomorrow: Nothing Good is Happening at 4AM
Today: Forgiveness Comes Easier Than Permission (sometimes)
Sometimes it’s better to act first and apologize later.
"It's easier to ask for forgiveness than permission," goes the old adage. Basically, there are times when we just have to do something and plan to beg for forgiveness if it doesn't work out rather than wait for someone to give you permission.
I maybe operate too much in this line of thinking. I'm always doing something first and asking questions later. I just don't always care to convince someone to let me do what's right. Unless it's spelled out that I MUST ask first, I probably won't.
Sometimes the person who has to give you the permission won't fully understand what you're trying to do. Or maybe they just can't know. We all had the experience of wanting to go somewhere that we just KNEW our parents wouldn't approve of. Maybe it's because of who would be there or what would go on. So we bent the truth a little and got our way. And maybe we got busted -- but maybe we didn't. But it's the motivation for the lying that I'm talking about. As an adult, lying to our bosses or our friends or our significant others is just... ugh (not to imply people don't). Sometimes they just can't know why, they just need to say yes.
Of course not EVERYTHING you want to do that might get a no works. You could end up looking like a jackass, with no reprieve and no possibility of forgiveness. I always look at it like this: if this situation is one of those "if things work out the way I hope, then I won't need to explain a damn thing" situations, then go ahead. Otherwise, I probably just need to go back to the drawing board and drum up a bomb ass explanation.
Tomorrow: Nothing Good is Happening at 4AM
2.18.2013
Life Lesson 6: Choose Your Motivation Wisely
Friday: It's Ok to Have Boundaries
Today: Choose Your Motivation Wisely
I'm interested in motivation. Always. Ask me a question and the first thought I have is, "why do they want to know?" It will often influence my answer. I'm especially interested in how to help people change what motivates them because I'm discovering that skill will be the cornerstone in my career. Working with, essentially, at-risk youth (which is code for poor and minority, usually black, but increasingly Hispanic), trying to help them find intrinsic motivation is tricky. Theory says you start with extrinsic motivation, like McDonald's for every week of good behavior and then help them to see how good behavior is helpful to them in other ways. You slowly remove the extrinsic motivator as their intrinsic motivation increases and wa-la you have a student ready to tackle the world. Or so says theory.
Sometimes I think we choose motivating factors that aren't actually motivating. That too small pair of pants in the closet -- are you really going to lose weight just to wear them? When you were cleaning out your closet and set them to the side, did you really think that would work or were you hoping? I have to confess, I have several "too-small" items in my closet that when I was cleaning I set to the side telling myself that one day soon I'd fit in them, but I think I really set them aside hoping they would magically increase in size more than I thought I'd actually do the work of losing the weight.
Perhaps we do this to ourselves because it's easier. A silent pair of too-small pants in the closet is a lot easier to deal with than a personal trainer. Maybe because the silent pair of pants isn't actually supposed to be a motivator, but a reward. In working with my kids I've found that you have to reward them in short-run instances and slowly work your way up. In other words, it's not as simple as two weeks of rewarding them with McDonald's and they suddenly get intrinsic motivation. On the contrary, it could take months. And the first time, you can't ask a child who's been misbehaving badly in class to go a whole week with good behavior so they can get McDonald's. Even those addictive fries aren't reason enough. Instead, you let them earn smaller rewards faster. One day of good behavior might get them free time at the end of the day. Three days earns them some candy. And then bam -- they've made it a week and they get that McDonald's. You give them small wins so that they slowly learn they can win.
The real reason those too-small pants (or shirt, or skirt, or whatever) aren't motivating isn't really because they're silent. It's because they're a reward for the 30 lbs line -- the end of the line in fact. What's the motivation for losing pound 1? The pants are the McDonald's. What's the free time at the end of the day or the candy? Where are your small wins? You see, the small wins are what motivates you -- things that motivate you convince you to keep going, to keep trying. A reward that comes at the end is just a reward; the rewards in the middle? Those are motivators.
I keep talking about this in terms of weight loss, but you can truly apply it to anything. You have to choose your motivation wisely and you have to give yourself small wins. Many of us are adept at intrinsic motivation and we know that hard work pays off in the long run but there are sometimes those things that require a lot of run; choose your motivation in such a way that you have a reason to keep going even when you can't make out the light at the end of the tunnel. Small wins keep the spirit high.
Tomorrow: Guilt Is A Dish Best Not Served
Today: Choose Your Motivation Wisely
If you buy a piece of clothing that doesn’t fit you and plan to use it as inspiration to lose weight, you will never end up wearing it.
I'm interested in motivation. Always. Ask me a question and the first thought I have is, "why do they want to know?" It will often influence my answer. I'm especially interested in how to help people change what motivates them because I'm discovering that skill will be the cornerstone in my career. Working with, essentially, at-risk youth (which is code for poor and minority, usually black, but increasingly Hispanic), trying to help them find intrinsic motivation is tricky. Theory says you start with extrinsic motivation, like McDonald's for every week of good behavior and then help them to see how good behavior is helpful to them in other ways. You slowly remove the extrinsic motivator as their intrinsic motivation increases and wa-la you have a student ready to tackle the world. Or so says theory.
Sometimes I think we choose motivating factors that aren't actually motivating. That too small pair of pants in the closet -- are you really going to lose weight just to wear them? When you were cleaning out your closet and set them to the side, did you really think that would work or were you hoping? I have to confess, I have several "too-small" items in my closet that when I was cleaning I set to the side telling myself that one day soon I'd fit in them, but I think I really set them aside hoping they would magically increase in size more than I thought I'd actually do the work of losing the weight.
Perhaps we do this to ourselves because it's easier. A silent pair of too-small pants in the closet is a lot easier to deal with than a personal trainer. Maybe because the silent pair of pants isn't actually supposed to be a motivator, but a reward. In working with my kids I've found that you have to reward them in short-run instances and slowly work your way up. In other words, it's not as simple as two weeks of rewarding them with McDonald's and they suddenly get intrinsic motivation. On the contrary, it could take months. And the first time, you can't ask a child who's been misbehaving badly in class to go a whole week with good behavior so they can get McDonald's. Even those addictive fries aren't reason enough. Instead, you let them earn smaller rewards faster. One day of good behavior might get them free time at the end of the day. Three days earns them some candy. And then bam -- they've made it a week and they get that McDonald's. You give them small wins so that they slowly learn they can win.
The real reason those too-small pants (or shirt, or skirt, or whatever) aren't motivating isn't really because they're silent. It's because they're a reward for the 30 lbs line -- the end of the line in fact. What's the motivation for losing pound 1? The pants are the McDonald's. What's the free time at the end of the day or the candy? Where are your small wins? You see, the small wins are what motivates you -- things that motivate you convince you to keep going, to keep trying. A reward that comes at the end is just a reward; the rewards in the middle? Those are motivators.
I keep talking about this in terms of weight loss, but you can truly apply it to anything. You have to choose your motivation wisely and you have to give yourself small wins. Many of us are adept at intrinsic motivation and we know that hard work pays off in the long run but there are sometimes those things that require a lot of run; choose your motivation in such a way that you have a reason to keep going even when you can't make out the light at the end of the tunnel. Small wins keep the spirit high.
Tomorrow: Guilt Is A Dish Best Not Served
2.13.2013
Life Lesson 3: Be Your Own Best Cheerleader
Yesterday: Your Happiness is YOUR Happiness
Today: Be Your Own Best Cheerleader
I mean I got it right away. No one will cheer for you, laud your successes, highlight your greatness, as well as you do. Not even your mama, and for many of us, that's saying something. You're the one who really knows how hard you work, how smart you are, how fast you can go. Just you. You're the only one with you all the time, every day. Others may see potential where you don't, but you're the only person who can really get yourself to your potential.
It's often said that for women, this particular life advice can be hard to learn. We are often conditioned to let others take the spotlight. In fact, in the interview for the job I now have, when asked what one of my weaknesses is, I admitted that I often will allow others to take credit for my work in the interest of getting a job done or making the team look good. I've been blessed to now work with people who often remind me to take credit for my work; however in the past, I've worked with people who were more than happy to take credit for my ideas and thoughts.
Even now, I watch people I know and love copy the things that I say and do, and pass them off as their own original thought. I don't usually say anything because why? What's the point? The point is, we live in a world where people always want to know your value. Even in personal situations, people want to know why they should keep you around and if you are talking about you, who else can you trust to do it?
Yeah, I know, you don't wanna be that kid. The self-important, self-aggrandizing kid everyone hates. That's not what this life lesson is about. There's a difference between making people think you can do something you can't and making sure people know that that great thing that happened just now was because of you. It's important to remind people of your worth because it only serves to remind yourself. Ultimately, getting recognition for being great is 1 part being great and 2 parts talking about said greatness. It's uncomfortable, it's awkward, for some it's annoying as hell but it's NECESSARY when you want something. Closed mouths don't get fed, the squeaky wheel gets the grease and all those other adages we know and say but have a hard time putting into practice.
At church, our pastor often says "you are valuable, your dreams are valuable, your mind is valuable, your body is valuable." We make jokes about that line from The Help where Aibileen tells the little girl in her care "you is kind, you is smart, you is important" but these are the things that are important to remember about ourselves and most of us don't have an Aibileen in our lives to tell us that every day and make us repeat it so we have to be our own Aibileens, our own cheerleaders.
Tomorrow: People Love You, Then They Don't.
Today: Be Your Own Best Cheerleader
You have to advocate for yourself because this world is full of shitheads who will take advantage of you. No one can afford to be helpless. You have to learn how to be a (polite) pain in the ass to get what you want.I don't remember where I first heard this idea of being your own best cheerleader, maybe it was Oprah who taught it to me, but it took me awhile to get it.
I mean I got it right away. No one will cheer for you, laud your successes, highlight your greatness, as well as you do. Not even your mama, and for many of us, that's saying something. You're the one who really knows how hard you work, how smart you are, how fast you can go. Just you. You're the only one with you all the time, every day. Others may see potential where you don't, but you're the only person who can really get yourself to your potential.
It's often said that for women, this particular life advice can be hard to learn. We are often conditioned to let others take the spotlight. In fact, in the interview for the job I now have, when asked what one of my weaknesses is, I admitted that I often will allow others to take credit for my work in the interest of getting a job done or making the team look good. I've been blessed to now work with people who often remind me to take credit for my work; however in the past, I've worked with people who were more than happy to take credit for my ideas and thoughts.
Even now, I watch people I know and love copy the things that I say and do, and pass them off as their own original thought. I don't usually say anything because why? What's the point? The point is, we live in a world where people always want to know your value. Even in personal situations, people want to know why they should keep you around and if you are talking about you, who else can you trust to do it?
Yeah, I know, you don't wanna be that kid. The self-important, self-aggrandizing kid everyone hates. That's not what this life lesson is about. There's a difference between making people think you can do something you can't and making sure people know that that great thing that happened just now was because of you. It's important to remind people of your worth because it only serves to remind yourself. Ultimately, getting recognition for being great is 1 part being great and 2 parts talking about said greatness. It's uncomfortable, it's awkward, for some it's annoying as hell but it's NECESSARY when you want something. Closed mouths don't get fed, the squeaky wheel gets the grease and all those other adages we know and say but have a hard time putting into practice.
At church, our pastor often says "you are valuable, your dreams are valuable, your mind is valuable, your body is valuable." We make jokes about that line from The Help where Aibileen tells the little girl in her care "you is kind, you is smart, you is important" but these are the things that are important to remember about ourselves and most of us don't have an Aibileen in our lives to tell us that every day and make us repeat it so we have to be our own Aibileens, our own cheerleaders.
Tomorrow: People Love You, Then They Don't.
1.08.2013
Forgiving a Debt
Forgiveness is one of those things that I'm always pondering and always reflecting on in some way. I'm not great at it, but I like to think that I'm striving for excellent. And part of that has been truly understanding what forgiveness is, what it looks like, feels like, sounds like; what it produces.
And as I've said time and time again, my life is a series of motifs. So when there's something I need to handle, whatever is at the root of it will pop up again and again until I handle it. It's true.
I think forgiveness will always pop up and stick me because of the forgiveness I need to give my father. I'm not there yet on this journey but every time I work through the forgiveness of one person, I get closer.
Tonight I read a New York Times article, "Can Forgiveness Play a Role in Criminal Justice?" which tells the story of a murder victim's parents who seek to forgive her murderer who also happens to be her boyfriend.
I was struck pretty early on by the mother's explanation for why they had to forgive.
And when I've been the person who needed to apologize, I've been keenly aware of how empty those words can be -- ironic when you consider how much you need them to convey. It's all about this debt at the end of it. A usually impossible to repay debt. Sometimes a debt that you can lessen, but it's not often that we can truly repay it, truly restore what we took or ruined when we hurt another person.
But the way she frames choosing to forgive is so amazing to me. She doesn't really say anything new. Anyone who preaches the value of forgiveness will talk about how you do it for yourself and not the other person. How it's about releasing the hold, and all of that. But she talks about it in terms of the expectations. How holding a grudge only causes you to expect something you will never receive. Failing to forgive only hurts you in the long run.
When I think about some recent events in my life and ponder whether or not I've truly forgiven people (while choosing not to forget, because I don't want to end up in that situation again) I think I'll consider whether or not I'm expecting anything. You've forgiven when you're done expecting the other person to repay any debts. Deep.
And as I've said time and time again, my life is a series of motifs. So when there's something I need to handle, whatever is at the root of it will pop up again and again until I handle it. It's true.
I think forgiveness will always pop up and stick me because of the forgiveness I need to give my father. I'm not there yet on this journey but every time I work through the forgiveness of one person, I get closer.
Tonight I read a New York Times article, "Can Forgiveness Play a Role in Criminal Justice?" which tells the story of a murder victim's parents who seek to forgive her murderer who also happens to be her boyfriend.
I was struck pretty early on by the mother's explanation for why they had to forgive.
I wanted to be able to give him the same message [of forgiveness]. Conor [the murderer] owed us a debt he could never repay. And releasing him from that debt would release us from expecting that anything in this world could satisfy us.I struggle with words like "I'm sorry" and "I apologize" because I often mistrust the intent. I feel that many people don't take those things seriously and I've frequently felt that ultimately they're just words.
And when I've been the person who needed to apologize, I've been keenly aware of how empty those words can be -- ironic when you consider how much you need them to convey. It's all about this debt at the end of it. A usually impossible to repay debt. Sometimes a debt that you can lessen, but it's not often that we can truly repay it, truly restore what we took or ruined when we hurt another person.
But the way she frames choosing to forgive is so amazing to me. She doesn't really say anything new. Anyone who preaches the value of forgiveness will talk about how you do it for yourself and not the other person. How it's about releasing the hold, and all of that. But she talks about it in terms of the expectations. How holding a grudge only causes you to expect something you will never receive. Failing to forgive only hurts you in the long run.
When I think about some recent events in my life and ponder whether or not I've truly forgiven people (while choosing not to forget, because I don't want to end up in that situation again) I think I'll consider whether or not I'm expecting anything. You've forgiven when you're done expecting the other person to repay any debts. Deep.
6.18.2012
Seeing The Great
Five days ago, Erica Kennedy died. In that time I've seen a whole lot of tweets and blog posts about what a great author and friend she was. Though I was only vaguely aware of her as the author of "Feminista" and "Bling," it seems I follow several individuals on twitter who had a much (MUCH) stronger knowledge of and connection to her. And as I read their blog posts and tweets I found it both stirring and remarkable that they all seemed to say almost the exact same things about her. That she was a genius, and supportive.
The one thing, however, I saw repeated that really has stuck with me is that they all mentioned how she seemed to have the ability to see greatness in individuals who could not see it in themselves. Several individuals mentioned that when invited to join a group of women put together by Erica, they had no idea why only to come to learn that she did it with purpose -- she saw something in each of them that she thought might help the others. She saw the great.
If you've ever had someone see something in you that you can't see in yourself, only to later begin to see it for yourself, you can only describe the experience as magical and touching. As you think back over all the moments and events that got you to that place, you realize that had it not been for that one person who could see the great, you might never have gotten there.
I've had MANY moments just like that and I continue to. As I was cleaning out some of my drawers, I found old tshirts that I really need to get rid of (thinking of a tshirt quilt) but haven't because they all mean something to me. A few of those shirts refer to things I did in high school and they made me think of one of the first times somebody saw the great in me (after my mama who saw it the day I was born, so...). What's interesting is that while I count this as once, it was actually two different people.
Most predominantly white and private institutions of learning, whether K-12 or higher ed will have an organization that functions as both a support group for its minority students as well as a unifying voice. My white, private high school was no different. I avoided joining this group in my freshman year, feeling out of place and not quite connected to them. The first friends I made at this school were white, and I didn't do any of the stereotypical black things that connected the black students so I had managed to make it through both 8th and 9th grade only really connecting to the handful of black kids in my class, and only kinda.
However towards the end of the school year one of my white friends whose sister had been active in this group wanted to go but wanted some "support" and I was the obvious supportive choice (aside from being black, or rather because of it, I was the most likely to agree to even go, though I had turned down previous requests from her). Being at a college prep school, it had been beaten into me that my resume for college needed stuff on it and so I figured there was no harm in going to one meeting and then slapping that on my resume.
We happen to pick the last meeting of the year, where they were electing officers, to randomly attend. In hindsight, I don't doubt that all of the upperclassman present at that meeting knew who I was, or at least knew of me. My class had the most black students - 10 - so it wasn't hard to spot the one black girl who didn't kick it with them. I stuffed myself in a corner (while my friend sat herself up front) and tried to remain inconspicuous. Elections began and it seemed that everyone had already decided who would be elected or at the least, nominated, to many of the positions except for treasurer. No one volunteered themselves, as had been the case with other positions. Finally one girl who had been previously nominated raised her hand to accept the nomination. It looked like she would be the only one and thus the default winner when at the last minute another girl raised her hand and said, "I'd like to nominate Ashley." All eyes were on me and I was confused. In my mind I had spoken to this junior maybe once or twice. I knew who she was but was baffled that she knew who I was and went so far as to nominate me for a position. The president-elect (she was the only one nominated) who was the current secretary asked if I was ok with the nomination and I accepted it.
After the meeting, this junior approached me and said she hoped I hadn't been embarrassed and that she thought I should be on the executive board the next year. Not only did she see the great, but she was someone I had no clue was even paying me attention.
The day of the elections, the president-elect mentioned to me that if I didn't win she had an idea she wanted to run by me but she first needed to speak to the organization's faculty advisor. Of course I didn't win the election and I wasn't surprised -- I actually only voted for myself because it felt silly not to. About a week later, the president-elect emailed me and asked if I wouldn't mind stopping by their faculty advisor's office to talk with her. At our impromptu meeting she mentioned to me that after having served as secretary for a year she knew that it was a lot of work and she thought there might be enough work that having an assistant secretary made sense. She said she specifically wanted me for the position. I was baffled. Twice in one week someone implied that they thought I might be good at something I had never considered: Leadership.
I point to that experience as one of the reasons I went on to hold other leadership positions. The year after I was asst. secretary I became President of the organization (I was elected VP and bumped to President, a motif that played out again, in another org, the following year). I had two people who saw the great in me and acted on it. Not only did they influence my pursuit of leadership positions but they influenced my efforts to see the great in others. That event changed the trajectory of my life, I'm sure of it. If I can do that for others, similar to the way Erica Kennedy did it for many, I'll feel like I really am achieving the great so many have seen in me.
The one thing, however, I saw repeated that really has stuck with me is that they all mentioned how she seemed to have the ability to see greatness in individuals who could not see it in themselves. Several individuals mentioned that when invited to join a group of women put together by Erica, they had no idea why only to come to learn that she did it with purpose -- she saw something in each of them that she thought might help the others. She saw the great.
If you've ever had someone see something in you that you can't see in yourself, only to later begin to see it for yourself, you can only describe the experience as magical and touching. As you think back over all the moments and events that got you to that place, you realize that had it not been for that one person who could see the great, you might never have gotten there.
I've had MANY moments just like that and I continue to. As I was cleaning out some of my drawers, I found old tshirts that I really need to get rid of (thinking of a tshirt quilt) but haven't because they all mean something to me. A few of those shirts refer to things I did in high school and they made me think of one of the first times somebody saw the great in me (after my mama who saw it the day I was born, so...). What's interesting is that while I count this as once, it was actually two different people.
Most predominantly white and private institutions of learning, whether K-12 or higher ed will have an organization that functions as both a support group for its minority students as well as a unifying voice. My white, private high school was no different. I avoided joining this group in my freshman year, feeling out of place and not quite connected to them. The first friends I made at this school were white, and I didn't do any of the stereotypical black things that connected the black students so I had managed to make it through both 8th and 9th grade only really connecting to the handful of black kids in my class, and only kinda.
However towards the end of the school year one of my white friends whose sister had been active in this group wanted to go but wanted some "support" and I was the obvious supportive choice (aside from being black, or rather because of it, I was the most likely to agree to even go, though I had turned down previous requests from her). Being at a college prep school, it had been beaten into me that my resume for college needed stuff on it and so I figured there was no harm in going to one meeting and then slapping that on my resume.
We happen to pick the last meeting of the year, where they were electing officers, to randomly attend. In hindsight, I don't doubt that all of the upperclassman present at that meeting knew who I was, or at least knew of me. My class had the most black students - 10 - so it wasn't hard to spot the one black girl who didn't kick it with them. I stuffed myself in a corner (while my friend sat herself up front) and tried to remain inconspicuous. Elections began and it seemed that everyone had already decided who would be elected or at the least, nominated, to many of the positions except for treasurer. No one volunteered themselves, as had been the case with other positions. Finally one girl who had been previously nominated raised her hand to accept the nomination. It looked like she would be the only one and thus the default winner when at the last minute another girl raised her hand and said, "I'd like to nominate Ashley." All eyes were on me and I was confused. In my mind I had spoken to this junior maybe once or twice. I knew who she was but was baffled that she knew who I was and went so far as to nominate me for a position. The president-elect (she was the only one nominated) who was the current secretary asked if I was ok with the nomination and I accepted it.
After the meeting, this junior approached me and said she hoped I hadn't been embarrassed and that she thought I should be on the executive board the next year. Not only did she see the great, but she was someone I had no clue was even paying me attention.
The day of the elections, the president-elect mentioned to me that if I didn't win she had an idea she wanted to run by me but she first needed to speak to the organization's faculty advisor. Of course I didn't win the election and I wasn't surprised -- I actually only voted for myself because it felt silly not to. About a week later, the president-elect emailed me and asked if I wouldn't mind stopping by their faculty advisor's office to talk with her. At our impromptu meeting she mentioned to me that after having served as secretary for a year she knew that it was a lot of work and she thought there might be enough work that having an assistant secretary made sense. She said she specifically wanted me for the position. I was baffled. Twice in one week someone implied that they thought I might be good at something I had never considered: Leadership.
I point to that experience as one of the reasons I went on to hold other leadership positions. The year after I was asst. secretary I became President of the organization (I was elected VP and bumped to President, a motif that played out again, in another org, the following year). I had two people who saw the great in me and acted on it. Not only did they influence my pursuit of leadership positions but they influenced my efforts to see the great in others. That event changed the trajectory of my life, I'm sure of it. If I can do that for others, similar to the way Erica Kennedy did it for many, I'll feel like I really am achieving the great so many have seen in me.
6.04.2012
The Moment I Knew I Was Dying
I'm not sure what made me think of this incident, but I like to share it with people to demonstrate that even I have been known to write checks with my mouth that my ass can't cash (and therefore know what I'm talking about when I encourage people not to).
I was about 15 or 16 years old. Right at an age where I was smelling myself (to use a nice country old people saying). I was closer to legal independence and was experiencing this odd thing most high schoolers go through where they have to balance all of the responsibility they're given by school and family with remembering that at the end of the day, they're still underage and relative know nothings. Of course the whole point of being a teenager is not knowing that you don't know anything.
Almost 10 years later I remember not what the argument was about, but as had become the norm, my mother and I were engaged in a heated battle. I'm sure it was some nonsense where I wanted my way because I'm an all knowing teenager and my mother doesn't want me to have it because I'm a smart ass teenager.
At some point I got in her face. I clearly remember thinking "she's probably gonna swing on me, but I'm about as tall as she is and I got a little weight on her, I'll be aight..." She did that "calm before the storm" warning where she eerily tells me that "I need to back up..." and I keep on going, because I'm big and bad and she warns me again and then... she snaps.
The first swing on me misses and I get a little upperhand on her. I'm in control and smelling myself when suddenly, I'm flat on my back with my mother's hands around my throat and she is SQUEEZING.
I very clearly recall doing 3 things: 1) grabbing her wrists movie style and trying to pull them off, 2) kicking with my feet hoping to kick her or get leverage to get from under her and 3) not breathing.
I was looking in her eyes and that wasn't my mother. I thought "this woman has no idea she's literally choking the life out of me, but surely she's going to stop" and as things progressed (the seconds that felt like hours) I began panicking because it seemed like she wasn't going to stop until I stopped breathing and then it happened... my foot went through the wall.
Remember number 2? Well, all that kicking on the wall only served to break the wall, not save my life and in that moment ladies and gentleman, I prepared to go see Jesus. I'm not playing. The lady wasn't stopping and I wasn't breathing.
I guess hearing her wall get a hole put in it (or hearing the sound of money leaving her bank account to fix it) snapped my mama out of it because she stopped squeezing the life out of me and got up. We didn't talk about this incident for years and when we did, we didn't -- I told the story to some family and she laughed along with them as I made light of the fact that one time, my mama almost killed me.
In case you still don't get that my mama is a G, when the handyman came to fix the hole and asked her what happened she said, "Ashley was acting a fool and kicked a hole in..."
What was I gonna do? Right. Not shit.
I was about 15 or 16 years old. Right at an age where I was smelling myself (to use a nice country old people saying). I was closer to legal independence and was experiencing this odd thing most high schoolers go through where they have to balance all of the responsibility they're given by school and family with remembering that at the end of the day, they're still underage and relative know nothings. Of course the whole point of being a teenager is not knowing that you don't know anything.
Almost 10 years later I remember not what the argument was about, but as had become the norm, my mother and I were engaged in a heated battle. I'm sure it was some nonsense where I wanted my way because I'm an all knowing teenager and my mother doesn't want me to have it because I'm a smart ass teenager.
At some point I got in her face. I clearly remember thinking "she's probably gonna swing on me, but I'm about as tall as she is and I got a little weight on her, I'll be aight..." She did that "calm before the storm" warning where she eerily tells me that "I need to back up..." and I keep on going, because I'm big and bad and she warns me again and then... she snaps.
The first swing on me misses and I get a little upperhand on her. I'm in control and smelling myself when suddenly, I'm flat on my back with my mother's hands around my throat and she is SQUEEZING.
I very clearly recall doing 3 things: 1) grabbing her wrists movie style and trying to pull them off, 2) kicking with my feet hoping to kick her or get leverage to get from under her and 3) not breathing.
I was looking in her eyes and that wasn't my mother. I thought "this woman has no idea she's literally choking the life out of me, but surely she's going to stop" and as things progressed (the seconds that felt like hours) I began panicking because it seemed like she wasn't going to stop until I stopped breathing and then it happened... my foot went through the wall.
Remember number 2? Well, all that kicking on the wall only served to break the wall, not save my life and in that moment ladies and gentleman, I prepared to go see Jesus. I'm not playing. The lady wasn't stopping and I wasn't breathing.
I guess hearing her wall get a hole put in it (or hearing the sound of money leaving her bank account to fix it) snapped my mama out of it because she stopped squeezing the life out of me and got up. We didn't talk about this incident for years and when we did, we didn't -- I told the story to some family and she laughed along with them as I made light of the fact that one time, my mama almost killed me.
In case you still don't get that my mama is a G, when the handyman came to fix the hole and asked her what happened she said, "Ashley was acting a fool and kicked a hole in..."
What was I gonna do? Right. Not shit.
5.22.2012
More of Me
I spent the first 4 months of the year immersed in myself and what I was trying to finish. I neglected friendships and responsibilities. I avoided phone calls, didn't respond to text messages and skimmed emails. I half-ass supported folks in need unless supporting their need put me any closer to my end goal. That included myself
I won't be apologizing for any of that because it was a necessary thing. Sometimes you have to shut it all out and hone in on the goal and work your ass off for a little while and get what it is you want.
This last month, however, I've been assessing the damage. Who do I owe? How can I make it up? Most folks aren't holding it against me because they understand, because they get it. Most folks are just happy that I'm back... or coming back, at least.
I also spent this last month assessing what I've gained. You can't spend 2 years of intensive study on how humans develop and not get all in your own mess of a life (and, if you've done any living at all, it is a mess. It might be a beautiful mess, but a mess all the same, and that's not bad). From day one of my program, our professors warned us that if we bothered to do the work in the program we would find ourselves different from when we started. We would find ourselves growing. Our professors even suggested that we warn our loved ones because it might be difficult for them.
I didn't believe any of that -- I thought, sure, maybe some of these folks around me who have never been through anything in life might find some growth process in here and maybe I'll enhance an iota or two but overall, I didn't have any growing to do. Not right now. These were my thoughts. I was ridiculously arrogant and oblivious and wrong. I like to think that maybe that helped me grow more than I would've because I wasn't expecting anything. I was just trucking along.
I grew. Understand that. Who I was in August of 2010 is not who I am in May of 2012. And when I began to understand that, I started telling everyone because I was excited about it. I wanted everyone to know that I had grown and because I had grown I could help others grow (especially my little kiddos -- the precious pups who make me crazy inside). Except I kept saying that I had "changed." And I thought I had, but as I've had some time to myself to think about things and actually begin effecting change in my life (like ending relationships -- that is CERTAINLY something I wouldn't have been doing in August of 2010) I realized I'm not changed, in the sense that I was one person 2 years ago that I am no longer. I may be doing things I wouldn't have done before but that's not to say I didn't want to do them. I feel ok doing them now. Does that make me a changed individual? No. I think it makes me authentic. I'm different in that I'm the same with more of me coming, spilling, pouring out.
And this whole thing hasn't been easy and doesn't seem to be getting easier but I'm ok with that. I'm just fine with that because if it's hard, if it's easy, I need to be more of who I am. That's what's right.
I won't be apologizing for any of that because it was a necessary thing. Sometimes you have to shut it all out and hone in on the goal and work your ass off for a little while and get what it is you want.
This last month, however, I've been assessing the damage. Who do I owe? How can I make it up? Most folks aren't holding it against me because they understand, because they get it. Most folks are just happy that I'm back... or coming back, at least.
I also spent this last month assessing what I've gained. You can't spend 2 years of intensive study on how humans develop and not get all in your own mess of a life (and, if you've done any living at all, it is a mess. It might be a beautiful mess, but a mess all the same, and that's not bad). From day one of my program, our professors warned us that if we bothered to do the work in the program we would find ourselves different from when we started. We would find ourselves growing. Our professors even suggested that we warn our loved ones because it might be difficult for them.
I didn't believe any of that -- I thought, sure, maybe some of these folks around me who have never been through anything in life might find some growth process in here and maybe I'll enhance an iota or two but overall, I didn't have any growing to do. Not right now. These were my thoughts. I was ridiculously arrogant and oblivious and wrong. I like to think that maybe that helped me grow more than I would've because I wasn't expecting anything. I was just trucking along.
I grew. Understand that. Who I was in August of 2010 is not who I am in May of 2012. And when I began to understand that, I started telling everyone because I was excited about it. I wanted everyone to know that I had grown and because I had grown I could help others grow (especially my little kiddos -- the precious pups who make me crazy inside). Except I kept saying that I had "changed." And I thought I had, but as I've had some time to myself to think about things and actually begin effecting change in my life (like ending relationships -- that is CERTAINLY something I wouldn't have been doing in August of 2010) I realized I'm not changed, in the sense that I was one person 2 years ago that I am no longer. I may be doing things I wouldn't have done before but that's not to say I didn't want to do them. I feel ok doing them now. Does that make me a changed individual? No. I think it makes me authentic. I'm different in that I'm the same with more of me coming, spilling, pouring out.
And this whole thing hasn't been easy and doesn't seem to be getting easier but I'm ok with that. I'm just fine with that because if it's hard, if it's easy, I need to be more of who I am. That's what's right.
5.18.2012
365 Days to Change
A year ago I wrote these two posts: Owning Myself Pt 1 and Owning Myself Pt 2. Shortly after posting both of these, a friend of mine and I had a couple of conversations about the post. The general gist was that she wanted me to know she wanted to be the type of friend who I could lean on if I needed support and that I should seek out friendships that offered the sort of emotional support I discuss not having in those two posts.
After our conversation I had a separate one with another friend where I expressed that I while I felt like she intended to be genuine, I didn't trust what she was saying. From a general stand point, people often offer themselves up to be that rock for you but when push comes to shove, they don't know how to handle it. From a more specific standpoint, this friend has always been good for knowing the right things to say and then not following through. I've always been an actions person, so this has always made me wary of the feel good things she says.
365 days later I'm done with our friendship. I had a major event happen in my life that I told her was upcoming but she didn't acknowledge it because she neither read my email or responded to my phone call. It shouldn't have mattered, she knew the day was coming at some point and she never bothered to inquire.
That in and of itself is just a story of a person making some bad decisions. We've all done that and negatively effected people we say we love and care about. But I've got multiple stories just like that one and I'm determining that what I need to do is accept that I can be the best friend I know how to be all I want but if it's not reciprocated it only hurts me in the long run.
It wasn't that I didn't know these things 365 days ago, but today I'm ready to accept them because it means I'm on a path to better friendships that work hard to be supportive because they know it will be easily and readily reciprocated.
After our conversation I had a separate one with another friend where I expressed that I while I felt like she intended to be genuine, I didn't trust what she was saying. From a general stand point, people often offer themselves up to be that rock for you but when push comes to shove, they don't know how to handle it. From a more specific standpoint, this friend has always been good for knowing the right things to say and then not following through. I've always been an actions person, so this has always made me wary of the feel good things she says.
365 days later I'm done with our friendship. I had a major event happen in my life that I told her was upcoming but she didn't acknowledge it because she neither read my email or responded to my phone call. It shouldn't have mattered, she knew the day was coming at some point and she never bothered to inquire.
That in and of itself is just a story of a person making some bad decisions. We've all done that and negatively effected people we say we love and care about. But I've got multiple stories just like that one and I'm determining that what I need to do is accept that I can be the best friend I know how to be all I want but if it's not reciprocated it only hurts me in the long run.
It wasn't that I didn't know these things 365 days ago, but today I'm ready to accept them because it means I'm on a path to better friendships that work hard to be supportive because they know it will be easily and readily reciprocated.
2.10.2012
Misery Loves Company
It's not that I didn't think the old adage was true as much as I don't think I understood how true it was until the summer of 2008. My first job after college was in Washington D.C. My mom had a friend who had a sister who was willing to let me stay at her house for a little while so that I would have a chance to get my life together in a brand new city.
I won't bore you with the details of every crazy thing that happened to me, beginning the very first day I arrived at her house, but suffice it to say she never should have agreed to let me live with her.
I moved in in June and by July knew that I had to leave and I had to leave soon. About that time, my office approached me about moving back to my home state for 2 months to do some work there. I jumped at the chance to go back to something familiar for awhile because the crazy lady (my landlady) had really just been chipping away at my mental stability. She constantly threatened to put me out, she belittled the way I was raised (asserting that because I was an only child, I had had everything handed to me) and she did other maniacal things like locking me out of the house and not allowing me to have a key to the deadbolt lock so she always had control over when I could get in and out of the house. I found myself finding any reason, including accompanying a friend to watch her do laundry, to not go back to the house or get back at a time I knew she'd be headed to bed.
I couldn't wait to tell her that I would be moving out at the end of August. She and I discussed whether or not she would allow me to leave my belongings at her house (why I thought that would be a good idea, I don't know) and my life got just a bit more brighter.
Plans changed and my office wanted me to wait until the end of September to leave. I was unhappy but it was good to have more time to search for a place to live. The search for another place to live was an ENTIRELY different story, but I was finding the hunt to be a bit demoralizing. Eventually I decided to take a co-worker up on her offer to sublet her apartment for a month. The same night I made that decision, I informed my landlady that I would be out at the end of the month since I had already paid her August's rent. This was on a Wednesday.
At this point, it's worthwhile to say that the entire week she had been acting weird, even for her. When I would get home, the deadbolt on the door would always be locked which she never did if she was there and, oddly too, she was always there when I got home. One day when I came in the house I asked if she wanted me to set the alarm and, oddly, she said no. She was a very paranoid individual and so I was surprised that she was ok with me not setting the alarm.
Anyway, on that same Wednesday night I also told her that I would be leaving the following weekend for a much-needed trip to the beach. Thursday went by and Friday morning as I descended the stairs with my bag for the weekend in my hand, she stopped me and told me that she wanted me and my things out of the house by 8pm because at that point she would have the locks changed and the change the code to the garage door (which was the way I accessed the house).
I was shocked, of course, but it was just so amazingly crazy that she would do that, that I said "ok" and handed her my key to the house as she asked. I remember calling my mother and laughing to keep from crying as I told her the story. She was the only one who knew all the details of what had happened to me. I kept it all from most of my friends, not wanting them to worry and not really wanting to talk about (thereby face) what was happening. I think she, like me, was a little relieved that it was all over. No matter what happened after, nothing could have - at that time - top what I had just gone through. Or so I thought...
About 2 hrs after I arrived at work my landlady sent me an email saying she had packed up all of my things and they were sitting in the garage. The bottom fell out for me when I read that email. I had held it together pretty well considering she attempted to essentially ruin my mini-vacay weekend, but the thought of her touching my things and throwing them (I was sure she threw - she was crazy) into God knows what and then putting them in the garage. What else could she possibly have done to let me know what she thought about me?
I had great people in the city that summer and so I was ok in terms of somewhere to live and ironically as almost a direct result of her actions, I landed into a wonderful living situation. However I continued to process my experience with her even months after I had moved out of that home and that whole week's craziness continued to play out for me. She had it planned out the entire week to screw me in the end. The reason she kept locking me out and didn't want me to set the alarm was because she had changed the alarm code. When I told her on Wednesday that I was moving out she knew even then that on Friday she planned to tell me to get out. Why did she wait? And why did she tell me I had until 8 only to immediately go pack up my stuff right after I left? She was truly a miserable person and she took each and every bit of her misery out on me for almost 3 months
I've thought about this story a lot since it happened and I know that it's not that big of a deal to most people. Not this little piece. I mean, yeah, it's kinda unfortunate but in the end I was ok, no one died and all was generally well. But honestly, there was so much more in play when this happened to me. I really think back on this time of my life -- the first 3 months of being a fresh-faced college graduate ready to tackle the world and really grow up -- and I seriously wonder how I managed to make it through.
Resiliency is such a key to surviving this world. I have to remind myself that I have it.
I won't bore you with the details of every crazy thing that happened to me, beginning the very first day I arrived at her house, but suffice it to say she never should have agreed to let me live with her.
I moved in in June and by July knew that I had to leave and I had to leave soon. About that time, my office approached me about moving back to my home state for 2 months to do some work there. I jumped at the chance to go back to something familiar for awhile because the crazy lady (my landlady) had really just been chipping away at my mental stability. She constantly threatened to put me out, she belittled the way I was raised (asserting that because I was an only child, I had had everything handed to me) and she did other maniacal things like locking me out of the house and not allowing me to have a key to the deadbolt lock so she always had control over when I could get in and out of the house. I found myself finding any reason, including accompanying a friend to watch her do laundry, to not go back to the house or get back at a time I knew she'd be headed to bed.
I couldn't wait to tell her that I would be moving out at the end of August. She and I discussed whether or not she would allow me to leave my belongings at her house (why I thought that would be a good idea, I don't know) and my life got just a bit more brighter.
Plans changed and my office wanted me to wait until the end of September to leave. I was unhappy but it was good to have more time to search for a place to live. The search for another place to live was an ENTIRELY different story, but I was finding the hunt to be a bit demoralizing. Eventually I decided to take a co-worker up on her offer to sublet her apartment for a month. The same night I made that decision, I informed my landlady that I would be out at the end of the month since I had already paid her August's rent. This was on a Wednesday.
At this point, it's worthwhile to say that the entire week she had been acting weird, even for her. When I would get home, the deadbolt on the door would always be locked which she never did if she was there and, oddly too, she was always there when I got home. One day when I came in the house I asked if she wanted me to set the alarm and, oddly, she said no. She was a very paranoid individual and so I was surprised that she was ok with me not setting the alarm.
Anyway, on that same Wednesday night I also told her that I would be leaving the following weekend for a much-needed trip to the beach. Thursday went by and Friday morning as I descended the stairs with my bag for the weekend in my hand, she stopped me and told me that she wanted me and my things out of the house by 8pm because at that point she would have the locks changed and the change the code to the garage door (which was the way I accessed the house).
I was shocked, of course, but it was just so amazingly crazy that she would do that, that I said "ok" and handed her my key to the house as she asked. I remember calling my mother and laughing to keep from crying as I told her the story. She was the only one who knew all the details of what had happened to me. I kept it all from most of my friends, not wanting them to worry and not really wanting to talk about (thereby face) what was happening. I think she, like me, was a little relieved that it was all over. No matter what happened after, nothing could have - at that time - top what I had just gone through. Or so I thought...
About 2 hrs after I arrived at work my landlady sent me an email saying she had packed up all of my things and they were sitting in the garage. The bottom fell out for me when I read that email. I had held it together pretty well considering she attempted to essentially ruin my mini-vacay weekend, but the thought of her touching my things and throwing them (I was sure she threw - she was crazy) into God knows what and then putting them in the garage. What else could she possibly have done to let me know what she thought about me?
I had great people in the city that summer and so I was ok in terms of somewhere to live and ironically as almost a direct result of her actions, I landed into a wonderful living situation. However I continued to process my experience with her even months after I had moved out of that home and that whole week's craziness continued to play out for me. She had it planned out the entire week to screw me in the end. The reason she kept locking me out and didn't want me to set the alarm was because she had changed the alarm code. When I told her on Wednesday that I was moving out she knew even then that on Friday she planned to tell me to get out. Why did she wait? And why did she tell me I had until 8 only to immediately go pack up my stuff right after I left? She was truly a miserable person and she took each and every bit of her misery out on me for almost 3 months
I've thought about this story a lot since it happened and I know that it's not that big of a deal to most people. Not this little piece. I mean, yeah, it's kinda unfortunate but in the end I was ok, no one died and all was generally well. But honestly, there was so much more in play when this happened to me. I really think back on this time of my life -- the first 3 months of being a fresh-faced college graduate ready to tackle the world and really grow up -- and I seriously wonder how I managed to make it through.
Resiliency is such a key to surviving this world. I have to remind myself that I have it.
1.23.2012
Who Has the Power?
I do a lot of ranting on my twitter timeline about how we're failing our kids and how they act up and out and work my nerves.
Just to catch everyone up, I'm in school to earn a degree that will allow me to help kids succeed in school; that is if I'm in a school that believes a strong counseling program in conjunction with a generally supportive school environment, great teachers and support for parents, yields excellent results.
This semester we're at a middle school; I've been excited about this internship. I've had a lot of experience over the years working with teens so my internship last semester was just more experience on top of what I had but this time I'm doing something familiar but still a little different. In my middle school I work primarily with 6th and 8th graders and every day is a new lesson for them and me.
I also really want to add that I find myself telling them stuff that I turn around and tell my undergrads, which is a whole other issue -- why 18+ yr olds need to hear the same thing 12 yr olds need.
So Thursday one of my 6th graders barged in and complained that she told a new friend (the student is, herself, new) a secret about herself. The secret was pretty juicy and the new friend had no qualms about telling her friends the secret and of course those friends came in the next day and told their friends -- the secret was all over the 6th grade by lunch and they had a ball walking up to this student and calling her vulgar names. She was understandably very upset and wanted some answers.
I switched into Counselor Ranger and got everything between the girls squared away and assured the student that while the kids would probably continue to be mean for the rest of the week, by Monday everyone would have forgotten all about her secret and moved on to the next person.
As right as I was, I know that the truth here is less that these people were calling her names and more that she entrusted a piece of herself to someone who misused it. To that point, I harped heavily on the importance of being careful who you share your secrets with. When initially confronted, the friend claimed that she had never been told not to tell, so I asked her to consider when she tells her friends something personal whether or not she assumes they know that it's not to be repeated, she did. So I cautioned them both to be a lot more careful about who they tell stuff to.
As I've thought more about the situation, I've felt like this was absolutely a situation that a lot of adults could learn from. How often are we too free with things that are personal and private, only to be so shocked when we find out someone we trusted told it to others?
In high school I told a guy that I liked him. It wasn't a secret, like "no one can ever know...really, but I thought the conversation was just between us. I found out two years later that almost all of our friends (and some folks I didn't know) knew and had been talking about the incident when I wasn't around. My mind raced as to all the things they might've said about me, maybe laughing at me for thinking I could date this guy or for being so forward; I could only imagine the things said that I would never know about. So what if that had been a much more personal item? My 14 yr old self might've been devastated.
Everyone isn't equipped to hold your stuff. Meaning, everyone doesn't have the skill it takes to become aware of a sensitive piece of you and then keep it to themselves. Some people have to pass off the weight of a heavy secret as quickly as possible and as another counselor said today "knowledge is power, especially in middle school" -- he wasn't referring to academics. When you know something about someone else that no one or not a lot of people know, you have power. So it follows that if you tell someone something about you that not a lot of people know, you give them power. Be careful who your power goes to.
And let me be clear that I'm not saying don't share yourself with people. I'm saying, as I said to my 6th graders, be CAREFUL who you share yourself with. Every piece of you is one more piece of power and not everyone can handle power; it's intoxicating.
Just to catch everyone up, I'm in school to earn a degree that will allow me to help kids succeed in school; that is if I'm in a school that believes a strong counseling program in conjunction with a generally supportive school environment, great teachers and support for parents, yields excellent results.
This semester we're at a middle school; I've been excited about this internship. I've had a lot of experience over the years working with teens so my internship last semester was just more experience on top of what I had but this time I'm doing something familiar but still a little different. In my middle school I work primarily with 6th and 8th graders and every day is a new lesson for them and me.
I also really want to add that I find myself telling them stuff that I turn around and tell my undergrads, which is a whole other issue -- why 18+ yr olds need to hear the same thing 12 yr olds need.
So Thursday one of my 6th graders barged in and complained that she told a new friend (the student is, herself, new) a secret about herself. The secret was pretty juicy and the new friend had no qualms about telling her friends the secret and of course those friends came in the next day and told their friends -- the secret was all over the 6th grade by lunch and they had a ball walking up to this student and calling her vulgar names. She was understandably very upset and wanted some answers.
I switched into Counselor Ranger and got everything between the girls squared away and assured the student that while the kids would probably continue to be mean for the rest of the week, by Monday everyone would have forgotten all about her secret and moved on to the next person.
As right as I was, I know that the truth here is less that these people were calling her names and more that she entrusted a piece of herself to someone who misused it. To that point, I harped heavily on the importance of being careful who you share your secrets with. When initially confronted, the friend claimed that she had never been told not to tell, so I asked her to consider when she tells her friends something personal whether or not she assumes they know that it's not to be repeated, she did. So I cautioned them both to be a lot more careful about who they tell stuff to.
As I've thought more about the situation, I've felt like this was absolutely a situation that a lot of adults could learn from. How often are we too free with things that are personal and private, only to be so shocked when we find out someone we trusted told it to others?
In high school I told a guy that I liked him. It wasn't a secret, like "no one can ever know...really, but I thought the conversation was just between us. I found out two years later that almost all of our friends (and some folks I didn't know) knew and had been talking about the incident when I wasn't around. My mind raced as to all the things they might've said about me, maybe laughing at me for thinking I could date this guy or for being so forward; I could only imagine the things said that I would never know about. So what if that had been a much more personal item? My 14 yr old self might've been devastated.
Everyone isn't equipped to hold your stuff. Meaning, everyone doesn't have the skill it takes to become aware of a sensitive piece of you and then keep it to themselves. Some people have to pass off the weight of a heavy secret as quickly as possible and as another counselor said today "knowledge is power, especially in middle school" -- he wasn't referring to academics. When you know something about someone else that no one or not a lot of people know, you have power. So it follows that if you tell someone something about you that not a lot of people know, you give them power. Be careful who your power goes to.
And let me be clear that I'm not saying don't share yourself with people. I'm saying, as I said to my 6th graders, be CAREFUL who you share yourself with. Every piece of you is one more piece of power and not everyone can handle power; it's intoxicating.
8.01.2011
Private Decisions, Public Consumption
A running joke amongst me and a few of my friends (although sometimes I wonder if it's not believed by some of them) is that I'm involved in some... let's say unsavory and less than legal activities. The proof they say lies at least partly in my tendency to be sketchy. Ask me where I'm going and I'm probably not going to be specific. Ask me where I've been -- nope. Non-specific as possible.
In fact, just this weekend, one of my friends looked over and noticed that I had quite a bit of cash on my person. "Why do you have so much cash?" she asked. "Uhh. I have stuff to pay for..." I responded initially. That's the kind of sketchy responses I give. It's not that I'm purposefully trying to be hard to deal with. It's just that I don't deal in details when I don't think details are necessary.
And maybe I also avoid details to avoid scrutiny and having to explain and whatever else comes along with people knowing the intimate details of any one decision.
I thought about this as I popped in and out of the twitter conversation around Fantasia's announcement that she's pregnant. The basic assumption is that the father of her child is Antwaun Cook, the same man she reportedly had an affair with and the same man who's wife is still suing her. On her popular reality show we watched her confront him about the drama and seem to insinuate she wouldn't continue to see him. Not too long after a rumor surfaced that she'd had an abortion and not to long ago so did reports that she had been seen with him.
And now people are expressing some disappointment in Fantasia ('Tasia Mae as I affectionately call her). Of course, where there's an expression of one opinion, there are just as many expressing the opposite and wondering why the other side feels the way they do.
I get really annoyed with people who want to live the celebrity life, but don't want to pay the cost. I actually feel bad for celebrities. I don't want people I know making snap judgements about the things I do and expressing disapproval, so imagine having thousands, maybe hundreds of thousands of people you've never met and probably won't ever meet who get to know every detail about your life and every good and bad decision you make is put up for them to judge and comment on in public forums. I couldn't do it.
That's why I'm not going to be that famous.
So for individuals who find themselves in fame's arms, loving the experience: appreciating the money, the prestige, the validation but then are surprised and angered by the flip of that: the negative blog posts, the poor record sales, the jokes by late night show hosts, I can't conjure it up to feel bad for them. You gotta take the good with the bad in almost every situation.
Plus, we live in a time where celebrities are marketed to us to make us love them personally. There used to be a healthy separation between a fan and a celebrity. We used to get, even if we didn't realize we got it, that they produced something we liked not so much that we had to also like them personally. I think immediately of Tupac. Tupac was attacked in the media, like a lot of gangsta rappers from the early to mid-90s, but qualms with 'Pac were often over his lyrics, even though he was shot and accused of rape and spent time in prison. I don't mean to suggest he didn't receive ANY criticism about those things, but I don't think a rapper today could have those things in their history and continue to sell records. Someone would make sure that didn't happen.
So after celebrity machines do their work and make us feel like we personally know these celebrities so we'll watch their movies and tv shows or but their albums and go to their concerts, there's suddenly surprise that when even when a celebrity isn't performing fans expect them to be a certain way.
Is it fair? No. Should it be expected, though? I think absolutely yes. I think that if you want the fame you need to know what the downside of it is and you need to know that you can deal with it. It's not my fault if you don't do that...
In fact, just this weekend, one of my friends looked over and noticed that I had quite a bit of cash on my person. "Why do you have so much cash?" she asked. "Uhh. I have stuff to pay for..." I responded initially. That's the kind of sketchy responses I give. It's not that I'm purposefully trying to be hard to deal with. It's just that I don't deal in details when I don't think details are necessary.
And maybe I also avoid details to avoid scrutiny and having to explain and whatever else comes along with people knowing the intimate details of any one decision.
I thought about this as I popped in and out of the twitter conversation around Fantasia's announcement that she's pregnant. The basic assumption is that the father of her child is Antwaun Cook, the same man she reportedly had an affair with and the same man who's wife is still suing her. On her popular reality show we watched her confront him about the drama and seem to insinuate she wouldn't continue to see him. Not too long after a rumor surfaced that she'd had an abortion and not to long ago so did reports that she had been seen with him.
And now people are expressing some disappointment in Fantasia ('Tasia Mae as I affectionately call her). Of course, where there's an expression of one opinion, there are just as many expressing the opposite and wondering why the other side feels the way they do.
I get really annoyed with people who want to live the celebrity life, but don't want to pay the cost. I actually feel bad for celebrities. I don't want people I know making snap judgements about the things I do and expressing disapproval, so imagine having thousands, maybe hundreds of thousands of people you've never met and probably won't ever meet who get to know every detail about your life and every good and bad decision you make is put up for them to judge and comment on in public forums. I couldn't do it.
That's why I'm not going to be that famous.
So for individuals who find themselves in fame's arms, loving the experience: appreciating the money, the prestige, the validation but then are surprised and angered by the flip of that: the negative blog posts, the poor record sales, the jokes by late night show hosts, I can't conjure it up to feel bad for them. You gotta take the good with the bad in almost every situation.
Plus, we live in a time where celebrities are marketed to us to make us love them personally. There used to be a healthy separation between a fan and a celebrity. We used to get, even if we didn't realize we got it, that they produced something we liked not so much that we had to also like them personally. I think immediately of Tupac. Tupac was attacked in the media, like a lot of gangsta rappers from the early to mid-90s, but qualms with 'Pac were often over his lyrics, even though he was shot and accused of rape and spent time in prison. I don't mean to suggest he didn't receive ANY criticism about those things, but I don't think a rapper today could have those things in their history and continue to sell records. Someone would make sure that didn't happen.
So after celebrity machines do their work and make us feel like we personally know these celebrities so we'll watch their movies and tv shows or but their albums and go to their concerts, there's suddenly surprise that when even when a celebrity isn't performing fans expect them to be a certain way.
Is it fair? No. Should it be expected, though? I think absolutely yes. I think that if you want the fame you need to know what the downside of it is and you need to know that you can deal with it. It's not my fault if you don't do that...
2.25.2011
Never Saying Never
Just updated my fb status to: It's really something to watch individuals become the sorts of people they swore they would never become. It's truly a lesson in never saying never, because you just don't know what's around that corner and you don't truly know what motivates others.
I learn a lot of lessons just by watching people. I'm learning this lesson for sure by watching someone now.
There are things about myself that I hope are always true. I hope that I'm always a good person; I hope that I always remember how to put myself in someone else's shoes; I hope that I'm always considerate and cognizant of others; I hope I'm always self-aware and I hope I'm always easy to talk to.
There are other things that I hope are always true about me, but I can't say for certain that they always will be. Things in life change and sometimes you don't expect outside changes to effect you internally.
I think most of us can think of one friend who got into a serious relationship and changed. You couldn't ever find them, couldn't ever talk to them. And if you did, they always had that extra person in tow. If you're like me, that's cool, or whatever, but sometimes you just want it to be your friend. Not that you ALWAYS expect it to be that way, but you aren't bff with their boo, you're bff with them.
Those of us who try to be... how can I say... supportive... find ourselves either putting up with the 3rd wheel act or bowing out for as long as the relationship is 100% who the person is. And that's probably precisely what begins to bug us. This person has become the relationship instead of the relationship being an added bonus of who they are. They cease to be the person you know and start to be this 2 in 1 deal. Which, again, is cool or whatever but probably not what you signed up for.
Not too long ago I had a conversation with a really really close friend of mine that sounded a lot like a conversation I've had with several good friends. They always go pretty much the same. We talk about relationships: the ones we're in, the ones we were in, the ones we wish we were in and we get to the underbelly of relationships, all that stuff no one likes about relationships, ESPECIALLY when said relationships aren't ours and one person says to another person, "if I get like that, please tell me..."
And I think that in the moment -- that moment of irritation, or jealousy, or frustration, or whatever -- we mean it. We want this good friend of ours to sound the alarm if we become this ridiculous individual we just talked about. But I don't know, anymore, if we mean that later, when we do become that person. There's something about the whatever we feel when we ask this of our dear friend that we don't feel later. There's a negative emotion driving that wish to never be this that we lose and in our elation at finding whatever it was we were looking for, sometimes we forget to care about what we had to give up.
I hope I never become one of those girls whose entire identity is tied up in her boyfriend. For one, I like my identity and for two I don't think that's healthy. But I won't say I never will, because I don't know what's in my future. Love makes us do crazy things and I can't promise to keep my wits about me when/if I fall back into that. I didn't exactly keep my wits about me the last time I did, so my track record just ain't promising.
But what I do believe is true is that if I get wrapped up in this man, whoever he is... if I forget to be an individual sometimes, forget that there are some things that are best done when it's just me and my friend(s) that someone will tap me on the shoulder and lovingly say "Ay, holmes, you trippin..." and that I'll be present enough to hear them wanting what's best for me and not jump to the conclusion that they are selfish or jealous.
In fact, it's my fear of that assumption that keeps me from tapping several of my friends on the shoulder with any variation of "Ay holmes, you trippin..." right now. I never want it said that I'm jealous or selfish. I'm constantly self-checking for that and while I don't think you can help but to be just a tidge selfish anytime you basically say to someone "I want the old you back..." on the whole, it comes from a genuine place of love and concern.
The other thing that keeps me from doing it is knowing that everyone has to learn and grow. Watching this happen time and time again is teaching me to just wait. I have my hopes and my plans. I think the ideal person for me would support how much individuality I have and not make me feel bad for wanting to do things with just me, or just my friend because he'd know that really, at the end of the day, wherever he is is where I want to be. But that's me -- that's the type of relationship I'd like. Everybody doesn't want that -- some folks are more than happy to give up their current lives for a life with someone else, whatever it means and I say more power to you.
In the beginning, that "someone" I mentioned earlier struggled a little bit with this. Striking that balance between having what they'd always wanted and somewhere in the back of their mind feeling a little guilty for having it. I had to check myself for the disappointment I felt. I felt a little let down and abandoned but that was on me and that was mine to handle. It doesn't change what I'm seeing (or what I'm learning) but it's given me new perspective.
6 months ago, you wouldn't have been able to EVER get me to say that maybe I'd be one of "those" girls. I wouldn't have even entertained the thought. I'm too self-aware, cognizant of others... too... whatever, to ever be her. But now I know, anything is possible. That doesn't mean I expect to be her, it means that I won't be so sure that I could never be her that when I do become her I miss it. Catch that? We are so sure x won't happen that it does happen because we're not paying attention since we're too busy in our self-assuredness that it can't happen. No, instead, I'll pay close attention and while I might not catch myself the INSTANT she shows up, when I notice her, she and I will have a chat.
In the meantime, I'll keep watching my friend. I think she'll figure out how to make this work one way or another, whatever it means for her, not for me (or anyone else).
I learn a lot of lessons just by watching people. I'm learning this lesson for sure by watching someone now.
There are things about myself that I hope are always true. I hope that I'm always a good person; I hope that I always remember how to put myself in someone else's shoes; I hope that I'm always considerate and cognizant of others; I hope I'm always self-aware and I hope I'm always easy to talk to.
There are other things that I hope are always true about me, but I can't say for certain that they always will be. Things in life change and sometimes you don't expect outside changes to effect you internally.
I think most of us can think of one friend who got into a serious relationship and changed. You couldn't ever find them, couldn't ever talk to them. And if you did, they always had that extra person in tow. If you're like me, that's cool, or whatever, but sometimes you just want it to be your friend. Not that you ALWAYS expect it to be that way, but you aren't bff with their boo, you're bff with them.
Those of us who try to be... how can I say... supportive... find ourselves either putting up with the 3rd wheel act or bowing out for as long as the relationship is 100% who the person is. And that's probably precisely what begins to bug us. This person has become the relationship instead of the relationship being an added bonus of who they are. They cease to be the person you know and start to be this 2 in 1 deal. Which, again, is cool or whatever but probably not what you signed up for.
Not too long ago I had a conversation with a really really close friend of mine that sounded a lot like a conversation I've had with several good friends. They always go pretty much the same. We talk about relationships: the ones we're in, the ones we were in, the ones we wish we were in and we get to the underbelly of relationships, all that stuff no one likes about relationships, ESPECIALLY when said relationships aren't ours and one person says to another person, "if I get like that, please tell me..."
And I think that in the moment -- that moment of irritation, or jealousy, or frustration, or whatever -- we mean it. We want this good friend of ours to sound the alarm if we become this ridiculous individual we just talked about. But I don't know, anymore, if we mean that later, when we do become that person. There's something about the whatever we feel when we ask this of our dear friend that we don't feel later. There's a negative emotion driving that wish to never be this that we lose and in our elation at finding whatever it was we were looking for, sometimes we forget to care about what we had to give up.
I hope I never become one of those girls whose entire identity is tied up in her boyfriend. For one, I like my identity and for two I don't think that's healthy. But I won't say I never will, because I don't know what's in my future. Love makes us do crazy things and I can't promise to keep my wits about me when/if I fall back into that. I didn't exactly keep my wits about me the last time I did, so my track record just ain't promising.
But what I do believe is true is that if I get wrapped up in this man, whoever he is... if I forget to be an individual sometimes, forget that there are some things that are best done when it's just me and my friend(s) that someone will tap me on the shoulder and lovingly say "Ay, holmes, you trippin..." and that I'll be present enough to hear them wanting what's best for me and not jump to the conclusion that they are selfish or jealous.
In fact, it's my fear of that assumption that keeps me from tapping several of my friends on the shoulder with any variation of "Ay holmes, you trippin..." right now. I never want it said that I'm jealous or selfish. I'm constantly self-checking for that and while I don't think you can help but to be just a tidge selfish anytime you basically say to someone "I want the old you back..." on the whole, it comes from a genuine place of love and concern.
The other thing that keeps me from doing it is knowing that everyone has to learn and grow. Watching this happen time and time again is teaching me to just wait. I have my hopes and my plans. I think the ideal person for me would support how much individuality I have and not make me feel bad for wanting to do things with just me, or just my friend because he'd know that really, at the end of the day, wherever he is is where I want to be. But that's me -- that's the type of relationship I'd like. Everybody doesn't want that -- some folks are more than happy to give up their current lives for a life with someone else, whatever it means and I say more power to you.
In the beginning, that "someone" I mentioned earlier struggled a little bit with this. Striking that balance between having what they'd always wanted and somewhere in the back of their mind feeling a little guilty for having it. I had to check myself for the disappointment I felt. I felt a little let down and abandoned but that was on me and that was mine to handle. It doesn't change what I'm seeing (or what I'm learning) but it's given me new perspective.
6 months ago, you wouldn't have been able to EVER get me to say that maybe I'd be one of "those" girls. I wouldn't have even entertained the thought. I'm too self-aware, cognizant of others... too... whatever, to ever be her. But now I know, anything is possible. That doesn't mean I expect to be her, it means that I won't be so sure that I could never be her that when I do become her I miss it. Catch that? We are so sure x won't happen that it does happen because we're not paying attention since we're too busy in our self-assuredness that it can't happen. No, instead, I'll pay close attention and while I might not catch myself the INSTANT she shows up, when I notice her, she and I will have a chat.
In the meantime, I'll keep watching my friend. I think she'll figure out how to make this work one way or another, whatever it means for her, not for me (or anyone else).
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