| Pages: 1 2 3 4 .. 15
| posted on 5.14.2005 at 08:40 PM
This growth stuff really hurts.
In order for me to actually grow, part of what I have to do is acknowledge, accept, and appreciate my feelings for what they are -- valid.
It was never ok for me to be an emotional person. After my father left, my mother depended on me to help with my siblings. My responsibilities ranged
from helping with homework, knowing at all times where everyone was, signing permission slips, and making sure everyone had dinner.
As a 13 year old, doing these things took a lot of energy. 9 years later, I still do them, and I can hardly imagine how I was feeling as a ninth
grader taking care of my brothers and sisters in the absence of my parents -- my father was literally out of the house, and my mother was figuratively
out of the house. The point is that I didnt have time to sit around and cry about my father's departure, or be upset about the things happening
around me, because I was responsible for three other bodies around me, and they needed me, and I was there.
I think women in general tend to do this; put their emotions aside for the general public, for their families and friends, husbands, lovers, etc. In
the end, we dont ever realize how we're really feeling, how hurt we are, or angry or sad or happy or frustrated. I dont know where we get this from,
perhaps we learn this trait from our mothers, and we inadvertently pass it onto our daughters, but almost every woman I know is guilty of this crime.
Now, the more in touch I become with my own feelings, the more I kinda wish that I had just left that cookie jar closed. I feel like a walking time
bomb, like at any moment my emotions will just take over me and I will no longer have control of my sanity. I know its a dangerous thing to allow
yourself to be led by your emotions, because they make for poor leaders, but I feel like they are so overwhelming that my logic drowns underneath
But, at the same time, its a little refreshing to actually feel so strongly. To yell when I want to yell. To cry when I want to cry. To sing when I
want to sing. To let myself feel, and to not feel bad or feel as though I am neglecting someone or doing something wrong. I am taking care of me, and
that should've always been my priority.
Hopefully I will deal with all those recently released emotions and learn how to deal with my feelings in conjunction with my logic so that I can be a
healthy person. Because as valuable as logic is, without one or the other, I am imbalanced, and both are needed to make me whole.
One day I hope to be whole.
| posted on 5.17.2005 at 11:04 AM
I have been looking at this all wrong.
I keep trying to push my best friend away from me because I figure that, without him there, I can focus on me. While that may be somewhat true, the
part that I missed was that having him around gave me a clear indication of my insecurities.
A good friend of mine pointed out to me that my obsessive tendencies were not just grounded in craziness, as I had thought before, but were more or
less indicative of insecurities that I had not yet dealt with. The more insecure I felt, the more obsessed I became with him, needing to talk to him,
or see him, and the more obsessed I became, the more insecure I felt.
It's a vicious cycle.
Truth be told, I dont like feeling obsessed or insecure. I love him, but I dont want it to be some type of driving-past-his-house-at-four-am or
getting-jealous-for-no-reason type of thing. I want it to be a healthy, strong love.
Everytime I end up feeling obsessed or insecure, instead of addressing the problem in our relationship -- or addressing the problem with me -- I just
decide that I'm going crazy because of him, and that I need to get rid of him. Getting rid of him would accomplish one thing: I would no longer have
him as the object of my obsession.
Then again, I have been looking at this all wrong. Not having him as the object of my obsession doesnt mean that I wont find or have something else to
obsess about. The moments when I'm feeling the most insecure and obsessive are the perfect opportunity for me to examine what it is about myself that
makes me feel this way, and fix it.
It's not like I dont have the chance. We sometimes go for weeks without speaking, sometimes even longer without seeing one another. This time is part
of what causes my insecurity -- the longer we go without speaking, the more I feel the need to talk to him.
Don't get it twisted, I'm not denying that I'm crazy. I am, just a little bit. But I shouldnt be afraid to feel crazy. I should use those feelings
to my advantage, and grow from them, rather than running from them. If I dont like those feelings, I should try to stop them at their source, and
their source is certainly not him. There's something inside of me that is causing me to feel the way that I do.
Time to get to work.
| posted on 5.17.2005 at 11:16 AM
| posted on 5.20.2005 at 01:33 PM
Diary of a Mad Black Woman
I'm not bitter. I'm mad as hell.
When two people enter into a relationship after defining the terms of said relationship and one person constantly violates those terms, then the other
person retains the right to express extreme anger.
In this case, I am said other person.
Now I know there have been times that I have done things or said things that would have changed the definition of my best-friendship with my best
friend (who has recently been demoted and will henceforth be referred to as *the boy*). Once or twice I've slipped and called him *my boyfriend*;
I've entertained the idea of cohabitation; sometimes treated our relationship like the diplomatic treaty between Sharon and Abbas -- if I was a
But the boy not once attempted to concede to me the things that I wanted. We made an agreement, and he was determined to make sure that I made good on
that promise. I relented and told him that I would come through on my end, and now I'm pissed.
Why am I the only one who is supposed to maintain the terms of the treaty?
It seems to me like if he wanted things between me and him to be different, he should have said so. He should have expressed his feelings and let me
determine whether or not it would be cool. Granted, it would not have been, but that's not the point.
The point is that now I'm dealing with stress that I personally don't want in my life. I'm angry because I'm being treated in a way that violates
the treaty. I'm mad because my main condition was that the friendship was the most important part of the relationship, and if our friendship was in
any way threatened, that we would stop what we were doing to remedy it.
But now it seems like I'm the only one who cares about that.
Perhaps most of this is my fault in believing that two people who were best friends could continue to be best friends after becoming physically
involved. I certainly didnt handle it well and it took me a long time to be comfortable with not calling him my boyfriend, not treating him like we
were dating, not... dating him. I was ok with it because I felt like having such a good friend is so much more important than having a boyfriend or a
*man*. I eased my fears by telling myself that, no matter what happened, we would remain friends.
Now I'm hurt because that's not whats happening. I'm hurt because I feel like our friendship is becoming a figment of my memory, combined with
pieces of my overactive imagination. I'm mad because I know that if I say something, I'm going to be told that I'm insecure, that I'm pessimistic,
that I'm obsessive, that I'm talking crazy, that I can't handle it and this is not all my fault.
I'm mad because this is his fault too, for not thinking about me.
But I'm also mad because I didnt think enough about me. I'm mad because I let myself worry about him too much and didn't see this coming. I'm mad
that I didnt consider my feelings, my history, my wounds before getting involved with him. I'm mad because I messed up by putting too much of me into
That sucks too, because I dont want to be one of those women who just can't see anything good in anything that a Black man does. I dont want to be
bitter, I dont want to feel like I cant trust, or be open and forthright, or be committed or supportive or forgiving. Because I want to be all those
things, I am all those things, I have the capacity for all those things and I know that there's someone who deserves all that and more from me.
Problem is, right now, it needs to be all about me. And the bottom line is...
I deserve better.
| posted on 5.26.2005 at 02:02 PM
Last night those looks that you gave me as I avoided your glance penetrated, sliced into the bone, down to the heart of me.
Last night I saw the tears behind your eyes.
Last night I realized that I wasnt the only one who was hurt, and I was hurt by your hurt, and I wanted to heal your hurt but I couldnt gather enough
strength to dress my own wounds.
Last night I wanted to make love to you, I wanted to love you but that's no longer my place.
Last night I wondered if that had ever been my place.
Last night the kisses that you gave me were the sweetest.
Last night I knew you do and always will truly love me.
Today I wonder if she knows how valuable you are.
Today I hope that she never brings you harm or causes you pain.
Today I know that you deserve the best that this world has to offer, and I wonder what that means now that you're with her and not with me.
Today she is someone that I'm not, with qualities that I dont have, with more than I can compete with.
Today this isnt a competition.
Today I want you to be happy, just like yesterday and tomorrow.
Today I want you to know how much I do and always will truly love you.
| posted on 5.31.2005 at 10:40 AM
I've been avoiding this journal entry for a few days now.
It's not that I believe that every person on CL is so intimately wrapped up in my life... more that I know that for time immemorium I will be able to
turn back to this page and see myself so exposed, so open for examination, revealing my truths and weaknesses, and admitting my faults.
I am afraid of this. I am afraid to actually document my faults because that makes them real. I am afraid to write them down because they can't be
erased. I am afraid to see them visually because then I have to feel them emotionally.
A few years ago, I dated a boy and neither of us were capable of actually maintaining a healthy relationship. We clung to each other because we
couldnt fathom the idea of being alone. He needed me because I was stable, and he had never had anything stable or reliable in his entire life. I
needed him because he needed me, because I knew he would never abandon me and because I knew that my presence was important to him.
The relationship, of course, became destructive, volatile, hurtful to both parties involved. He used my desire to leave as a means to keep me around.
I pretended that his need for me equated love. We hurt each other more than we ever intended and, in the end, I felt stupid for ever falling for his
lies, for ever believing anything he said.
I felt stupid because I had allowed the situation to become so highly manipulated. I had manipulated the reality to fit my own truths. I had blinded
myself to the things I didnt want to see. I used him and I was hurt because he used me. But, through all that, I truly thought I had learned my
Now, what was the lesson?
Here I am, years later, feeling as though I'm being pressed to learn the same lesson that I thought I had already learned. Feeling hurt by a person
who I never thought would hurt me. Having been lied to and manipulated.
This is my fault, because I allowed myself to mentally manipulate the situation to appease my own fantasies. I didnt clearly and objectively think
about what was really going on and instead I focused heavily on what I wanted to be happening. I had almost convinced myself that my dreams were
becoming a reality.
I feel stupid now because I allowed myself to pretend that his feelings for me were more than what they were. I pretended that his desire equated
love, that my presence in his life was important and that I would never be abandoned. I opened myself up to him in a way that I never should have,
that I never would have if I had been living in reality and not in my own fantasy world, and now I wish I hadnt. Now I wish I hadnt trusted him with
my feelings, my thoughts, my desires, my heart.
It would be easy to scream about all the things he did wrong in this situation, but that would make this all about him and I'm tired of doing that.
This is about me and the mistakes that I made, the problems that I have and the faults that I have to be woman enough to face.
I can't be angry at him for taking advantage of what was right in front of him, I can't allow this to make me bitter or mad, I can't let this keep
me from feeling love ever again in my life.
I was wrong, and it hurts more than anything to point the finger at your own reflection but I'm trying to place blame where blame is due. I was and
still am in love with him but I have to learn that love isnt enough when it comes to relationships. I have to learn the difference between love and
dependence. I have to learn that emotions are great followers but poor leaders. Above all, I have to learn to trust my mind, my objectivity and my
clarity, and to take the focus off my heart and my feelings.
He said once that I felt too much, and I responded that he didnt feel enough. I still think that's true, but now I know that there isnt any pride in
caring beyond despair. It will be a long time before I throw myself back out there and get romantically involved with someone, and I am looking
forward to the time alone. I am looking forward to healing myself and getting rid of my youthfulness, immaturities and insecurities. I am looking
forward to becoming the woman that I've always admired from afar but whose qualities I never thought I possessed.
Above all, I am looking forward to looking back on this and knowing that this journey was given to me, specifically, to help me to get to where I need
| posted on 6.7.2005 at 01:48 PM
ninth day of fast
I successfully fasted for nine days. I am incredibly proud of myself.
Twelve days ago, I decided to do what I always do when I'm faced with a depressive situation. I figured I had two options: I could mop around and
feel sorry for myself, crying and sulking and generally being counterproductive, OR I could use the pain as a motivation, fast and cleanse, meditate
and pray, and continue to soak up knowledge and think about what I want for my future.
I took door number two.
The truth is, pain motivates me because, if I'm busy, I dont have to think about the fact that I'm in pain. I heard somewhere that if you're
breathing really fast, as in, your heartrate is pumping and your body is in motion, then you can transcend feelings of pain. The problem is that,
eventually, you're gonna have to slow down. Catch your breath. Take a break.
Well, I realized I couldnt fast forever. My mother wasnt having that. She decided yesterday that nine days was enough and cooked a meal fit for
royalty, making my entire house smell of cheesy mashed potatoes. I walked in after a long, hard day at work, after living solely on orange juice and
ginseng tea, to find my entire house filled with food, which is a rarity. I cursed myself for not eating anything all day -- no fruit, not even a
salad -- and sulked around hungrily as I watched my brother devour a whole pizza and my sister inhale a stromboli. I couldn't eat because it
would've only made me sick, after not eating for nine days.
I resolved that the fast was officially over and began to think about the delicious things that I would have to eat for the next few days -- crucial
because I had to eat healthy and well so I didnt stuff myself or hurt my body, but also important because I would be reintroduced to the value of
spices. But even thoughts of food, after nine days of fasting, failed to keep me from thinking about him.
I am in pain. My heart hurts, and I cant fast my way out of dealing with the wound. I cant ignore it and make it go away, I cant bury it deep into my
subconscious and hope it never emerges, maybe I could pray my way out of it but that might take a long, long time. I want to deal with it now, I want
to just say *be gone!* and know that when I wake up in the morning, that everything will be ok. But it's just not that simple.
I know that I sound incredibly overdramatic to those of you who dont know me... and those of you who do know me know that sounding overdramatic is
just who I am. In general, I am just the type of person who wants to accomplish things, who strives to get sh!t done, who loves to look responsible,
strong, commanding, intimidating. Not being able to fix this, immediately, on my time... not being able to feel secure, not feeling like I'm in
control or that I am where I want to be... feeling weak, scared, hurt... that all... sucks.
For lack of a better phrase.
I want to say that I hate him. I dont. I want to say that I dont love him anymore. I do. I want to say that I never want to speak to him again. I do.
I want to say that he makes me sick. He doesnt. I want to say that he's the scum of the earth. He's not. I want to say that I cant believe I ever
liked him in the first place. I can. I want to say that he could never hurt me. He did. I want to say that no one can affect me in that way. He did.
There's so much that I want to say and I cant and it pains me, and I'm sorry for having to share this all with you. Truth is, I'm sure you can look
forward to me posting more about how I'm not quite over him yet and I cant believe I'm still thinking about him because I dont know when that will
be over. Hopefully sooner than later but, I just dont know.
| posted on 6.13.2005 at 12:05 PM
How come as soon as I came on here this morning I found a thread that was talking right at me?
How come it made me feel so bad that I cut my answer short to keep from putting myself on blast?
How come I dont want to admit that I'm guilty of driving away a good man because I was too scared to let him love me?
How come he still wants to sleep with me and I'm tempted to let him?
How come I cant stay abstinent for more than a month??
How come I know what I want for myself and I've been too afraid to go get it?
How come that applies to so much more than just him?
How come I've been afraid to grow up, to change, to move on, to realize my own vast potential?
How come I'm such an amazing person and I'm the only one who doesnt know that?
How come I pride myself in being an adult on the outside but on the inside I'm still very much a child?
How come I dont believe I could be the type of woman I always picture myself as?
How come I work so hard to succeed in my career, in school, in practical matters, but when it comes to my heart and my feelings I can just give up?
How come I'm stealing Mellow's idea of asking *how come* because it was so addictive?
| posted on 6.16.2005 at 02:00 PM
what i want
I want to be a mother.
I was talking about it today at lunch and it hit me, harder than anything... I've been learning so much about myself lately and when this was
revealed to me I was in complete shock.
I used to not want kids. When I was 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21... hell, even last month the idea of having children was tentative at best. If I was in a
good mood I'd say *I'm going to have kids... one day...* but I would avoid affirming that I really wanted or didnt want them.
I didnt really think it mattered whether or not I wanted to have children. I was born with a womb which, to me, indicates that at some point or
another I would have to use it. Doctors take out things we dont need anymore, like your tonsils and your wisdom teeth, and since they dont go out of
their way to give women hysterectomies I assume that they -- and God -- intended for me to use my uterus one day.
There's even that medical rule that says that a woman can't have her tubes tied unless she's over 25 and has at least two kids already. So I had
crossed that option off my list and was beginning to resign myself to the idea of birthing kids. One day. In the rather Distant future.
But yesterday I realized how bored I was with my job. Its not the type of job I wanted in the first place; it is an editorial position but I'm very
rarely mentally stimulated. I feel myself needing to read book after book, and every time I'm not at work I'm trying to discuss something
life-altering in order to keep my brain-power going. I've even taken to debating myself sometimes, reviewing the pros and cons of different issues
and presenting them to myself in order to see how hard I can push myself, how much I can make my brain outwit itself.
I know that makes me sound crazy... bear with me. At least I'm not rotting my thoughts with television.
So today I was telling my co-worker how bored I am and how I was thinking about looking for another job -- in a similar field but with greatly
different responsibilities. And then it hit me, that I didnt really want to look for a new job at all, because I dont really want to work anymore.
I've always been incredibly creative and, not to toot my own horn, but I know that I'm smart, brilliant even, capable of intense analytical thought
and compelling discussions about the most complex of issues. In college a professor of mine pushed me beyond the limits of my thought and I knew right
then that I wanted to be a teacher one day, once I got older, to push my students into thinking deeper, seeing the bigger picture, understanding how
the world works through literature and art.
The most important type of teacher in all the world... is the mother.
Our mothers teach us right from wrong; our mothers teach us who we are and where we come from. Mothers teach us to read and they teach us to stand and
encourage us to walk. They kiss the bruises and teach us that love can heal all bumps and scrapes. Mothers scold with care and are passionate and
understanding and compelling. Most importantly, you cant ever graduate from your mother's class. She will be your first teacher and perhaps your
Why wouldnt I want to be this type of woman? Why wouldnt I want to spend every waking moment with my children, showing them who I am and providing a
strong example of the types of people they should be? Not to take away from the influence of the father, which is just as -- if not more -- important,
but I cant be a father, I can only be a mother, and it only makes sense that I would look forward to this role with great and immediate anticipation.
Hearing myself say that I want to be domesticated makes me cringe. My feminist background is screaming at me, because the majority of feminist thought
rejects the possibility of women being mothers and housewives as a voluntary submission and grave disservice -- although there is a school of thought
that says that women should choose the work that they wish to do, and I wish, I want to do this. It may be a voluntary submission, but it most
certainly is not a grave disservice.
Being a mother would be an honor and a privilege. Spending my every waking moment with my children, sharing their first few years of life,
re-discovering the world over and over again through their eyes would be a blessing, pure and simple. While this revelation is rather premature,
considering that I'm neither married nor in a relationship, I know now why it is that I want to make myself a stronger, emotionally healthy, mentally
sane and spiritually secure person. So that I can pass those traits to my children and raise beautiful, creative, intelligent, secure, healthy, proud,
blessed Afrikan children who know who they are, where they've been, and where they're going.
You can only teach what you've once been taught.
| posted on 7.11.2005 at 08:54 AM
It has been a really long time since I've been in here, for reasons that would take way too long to explain. A lot of different things have been
going on with me lately but the most important is the experiment.
My older sister is not actually my sister at all, in fact, she is a friend that I met in high school and we randomly ended up at the same college, in
the same dormitory, with similar curriculum. When she found herself pregnant, we grew extremely close, resulting in me being the godmother of her
oldest child. We started calling each other sisters because its easier for me to get past the hospital guards that way; she frequents St. Peter's
Hospital because she has sickle cell anemia.
Because she's a month older than me -- and a Sagittarian -- she and my brother in law, my goddaughter's father, have decided that it is up to them
to protect me, to give me unwarranted advice, to take me under their wings, to school me and impart great knowledge upon me. For a long time I truly
believed that everything that they said to me and felt towards me was in my best interest. I still, for the most part, believe that, deep down inside,
THEY feel that they are doing and saying the right things.
But I, on the other hand, started realizing that, without their constant words filling my thoughts and confusing my emotions, I am a lot saner, a lot
more rational, a lot more collected. So I performed an experiment. I lied to them.
I lied to them and kept them off my back for three weeks. I kept a secret that would surely infuriate them, and pretended as though all was well
because, in my world, all IS well.
It gave me the opportunity to only focus on what I was thinking, what I want, what I am working through, what issues I have, all by myself... without
clouding my judgment hearing about this opinion, that idea, this theory, that past experience, this belief, that so-called truth... and I made it
through. I made it through without one unnecessary emotional breakdown, without one session of crying, without one really long e-mail explaining why
I'm feeling something that I've only been convinced that I should be feeling.
What to do about this? Well, they are still two of my closest friends. And despite the fact that, all this time, having their judgment and not their
support has been a hinderance, I know that it isnt their fault -- more that they expressed themselves in the only way that they know how. I think the
answer lies in discovering why it is that I allowed their opinions to cloud my emotional state and weigh so heavily in my mind. Why should I give so
much value to what they think or say? And in the future, I must take heed to remember that what they think is important, but ultimately, what I say
| posted on 7.27.2005 at 09:05 PM
This weekend, I stumbled upon an incredibly important issue: the lack of trust that I have for myself.
I have been thinking a lot about marriage, because I desire it greatly for my future, because I have been molding my ideas about what my marriage will
be like and what it is that I desire in a mate and, therefore, in myself. I have been learning a lot about myself in the process, some good, some bad,
some neither good nor bad... I have also taken initiative in some areas to improve those things which could be better in myself, such as attending the
gym every day (physical fitness), cutting fast foods from my diet, and learning how to cook.
-- yes, I'm 22 and cant cook.
Getting back to the point... well, a few days ago I had one of my emotional breakdowns... every so often I feel the need to spew incoherent emotions
from the center of my very being which make absolutely no logical sense but, somehow, express some type of feeling that I am harboring and need to
release. Some call it crazy, I call it therapy. For the most part, I am an incredibly logical person but I recognize that not handling my feelings
means not handling the reason why I am feeling the way that I feel... I know it is way more unhealthy to bottle things up than it is to just let it
out every once in a while.
So I wrote my best friend a letter; I told him the reason why I was taking things so hard was not because I couldnt understand why he was dating
someone but because I couldnt understand why he would wait so long to tell ME about it. ME who knows him better than anyone. ME who has shared some
very intimate and downright disgusting moments with him. ME who has been there since football of '97 and that horrible yearbook picture. ME -- waited
to tell ME -- and then said that he didnt tell me because he knew I would be hurt.
Yeah right. Everything in me wanted to believe that to be the truth but I couldnt and part of me still doesnt. Then I let my sister get into my head
and assist in festering the doubt that was already clouding my vision. For the past couple of weeks, maintaining a friendship -- a purely platonic,
non-sexual friendship, for the record -- has been agony because part of me doesnt even want to be bothered.
But this isnt about him; this is about me. I made a decision, a choice, to be friends with him and I made a clear and decisive choice to allow that
friendship to continue. I made a choice to let him be so close to me and to let him be a part of my life this long. And it dawned on me this weekend
that I didnt trust the value of my own choice.
I wasnt sure that I had made the right decision. I didnt -- I dont -- trust myself, and not trusting myself means not being able to ever trust anyone
else. Not trusting me means always having to second guess myself, means always having to ask for a second opinion and always running the risk of
having other people's opinions influence my own. Not trusting me means not being able to trust that I made the right choice in a partner, means not
being able to trust that partner and not trusting my partner to make the best and right decisions for us and our family. Not trusting me means not
being able to be the type of woman and wife that I aspire to be.
Not trusting me means perpetuating the faults in the existing family structure, means dooming myself to be a nagging, suspicious, overbearing and
domineering woman who cant let her man be a man because she doesnt trust him. Because she doesnt trust herself.
| posted on 7.30.2005 at 04:55 PM
I didnt exactly finish my last post, because I didnt know how to finish it.
At the time, I was contemplating the ways and means that I would go about learning how to trust myself. For the most part, I think it would come only
from application of the principle; if I decide something, sticking to it, being steadfast, and not backing down or changing my mind or opinion for
Its funny because when it comes to conversations about ideologies, ideas, and social theories, I can talk all day without ever changing my viewpoint.
I'm not the most adaptable person in the world; for the most part, when I believe something I stick with it. But, when I want something, when I want
to DO something, I always have to ask for backup.
But last night I heard the opinions of at least seven people before I proceeded to take a pregnancy test. Granted, I am pretty convinced that I am NOT
pregnant, but something is CLEARLY wrong with me, physically, and I dont know what it is. What pushed me over the edge was my aunt, who is a nurse.
When I told her I thought I was dehydrated, because I had been nauseous for the past four days, she quickly told me that nausea was NOT a sign of
But, before then, I think I was doing a good job of not doubting myself, of believing that whatever was wrong with me was not something so serious as
being pregnant and that rest and lots of water would quickly dispel the illness. I had told everyone to calm the hell down, chill out, back up because
I would be fine in a few days. I just needed some water, some juice, some Gatorade, some liquid nourishment to refresh myself and I would be back to
I am still not back to normal, physically, but I felt good about not letting all those other people influence my thoughts. I still think that,
whatever it was, sprang from a combination of dehydration and overworking, since I've been going to the gym every day in 90 degree weather, and have
not been getting more sleep or rest than usual. After hearing the opinion of a medical professional, which is the ONLY opinion that should matter
outside of my own, I eased our fears by taking two pregnancy tests which both reported what I already knew -- that I am NOT pregnant. Granted, I
wasted $20, but its better to be sure.
| posted on 8.17.2005 at 05:53 PM
"I'm Done" -- Tweet
Iím in no need for love
Stretched this sister more than a mile
Itís not for me because
Thereís no trust in love, so Iím restiní a while
How could u do me this way, love?
I canít recall how you made me smile
And I donít have time to play with ya
If I see ya, make it worth my while
No need for love
Unless itís Mr. Right
And only because
Mixiní lust with love only mean a fight
ĎCuz thereíll be dues to pay
And most of all many sleepless nights
But that won't be today, no
Guess Iíll see ya, love, itís been nice
Hit the road
You canít live here no more
Hit the road...Go
Hit the road
You canít live here no more
Hit the road...
Iím done, yeah...Go
If youíre lookin' for me Iím done
How could you do this to me, love? Iím done
Just a vacancy, Iím done
Done, Iím done, so done...
Such a vacancy
Love donít live here anymore...
| posted on 8.23.2005 at 05:07 AM
kindness for weakness
I consulted a psychic recently.
One thing that she said to me that greatly surprised me was that there were people in my life who mistake my kindness for weakness, and who try to
take advantage of that. I was surprised because I had known that to be the case at one point in my life, but had seriously thought that I had moved
forward and left those people behind. Now that I run in smaller circles, the people that I call my friends are, for the most part, really my friends.
But she wasnt talking about my friends.
One of the things that I hate about my family is that I am so unlike them. To me, they personify all the weak qualities that I would never want to be
known for. Selfish, greedy, arrogant, irresponsible; they are all these things magnified to the umpth degree... its almost a shame for me to say that
I am in the same gene pool.
Ever since I was younger I prided myself in being none of those things. Although I know I have much growing to do, I am also not going to downplay
myself and refrain from acknowledging the truth: I am very mature and very responsible... I depend on no one to provide for me... I very rarely ask
for help and very often help those around me that are in need... I dont usually brag on myself like this, nor do I do anything for recognition, but
the truth is the truth.
I also know that I am a strong person with a good heart... and at the end of the day, I deserve to be happy and fulfilled with myself and my life. I
am working hard to accomplish that end and, if it werent for the crabs in a barrel mentality that my family has, especially towards me, I would be a
lot further along than I am. It seems that they thrive when I am in pain; they enjoy watching me cry and enjoy making me feel bad for caring about
them. They attempt to make me feel guilty if I refuse to put myself out there for them because they're family. But, of course, they never want to put
themselves out for me or anyone else, and any attempt on my behalf to help them to improve their lives is seen as a disrespectful belittlement of
their autonomy and independence.
You cant help people who dont want to be helped, but it pisses me off that when they ask for my help they really only mean for me to give them things
and support them. It hurts me to know that they have no respect for me, and that they resent me for my success in college and my social advancements
and financial security. It annoys me when they ask me for advice and the minute I offer it, they berate me as though I'm being bossy or I think I'm
better than they. It bothers me when they tell me that they wish they could be where I am and do the things that I'm doing but they dont really MEAN
it, they are just talking out of their neck; in short, they have accepted the life that they have as the way it is and the way it will always be.
From where I am standing, they have accepted it even as they are unhappy with it. If they desire to wallow in their own misery, then so be it... but
they will NOT get me to wallow alongside of them.
I love them, of course, as I should and as I probably always will. But what I cannot do is stay behind taking care of them while my life passes me by.
I have moves to make. It is not conducive to the end that I am trying to obtain to continue to allow this behavior to go on, and if it means having to
struggle for a while and live on my own, then that is a sacrifice that I will have to make. I have to leave them to their own devices because I cant
take care of people when I have to fulfill a responsibility to myself first. As I said, I deserve to be happy... and I cannot put up with anything in
my life that stands in the way of that.
| posted on 8.27.2005 at 05:26 PM
Class is starting soon.
I have been looking forward to the beginning of this class for weeks. I begin every morning with meditation, prayer, and the recitation of the
principles of Ma'at, as my way of centering myself and opening the stage for a positive, strengthening, clear-minded day. I have been mentally
preparing for the next step in my spiritual growth, which is a rites of passage offered by a Kemetic priest in my hometown.
For weeks I've been attending preliminary, introductory classes with the sole purpose of joining the more advanced classes and eventually being
initiated into adulthood. While I am admittedly unsure about where this will take me, I have -- had -- complete confidence that I was making the best
decision for me, spiritually.
Well... y'all remember my best friend yes? Just because I havent mentioned him lately doesnt mean he hasnt been around. He has, but I have pointedly
forced him to take a backseat in my life so that I may drive without his interference. He recently told me how proud he is of me and my progress and
how glad he is that I have taken the initiative to move forward. Of course it made me feel good to hear him say that; he is still my best friend
despite the fact that we are no longer involved on a dating or sexual level.
I honestly wanted him to go away for a while and allow me to just BE without him... for several reasons, one being that the teacher with whom I am
about to embark upon this journey is also his teacher, was his teacher first. That shouldnt cause much of a problem for me, considering that he isnt
going to be a member of my rites of passage group.
But the woman he's dating is.
When he told me that last night I thought I would pass out. I was completely unprepared to be in such close proximity with her and on such a regular
basis, perhaps even having to get to know her and be friendly with her. It hadnt occurred to me that this might be the case since she hasnt been a
regular participant of our preliminary classes. But last night he asked me should HE be concerned about us being around each other, and was I going to
be able to handle that with maturity.
The answer: Of course I can be around her without wanting to slash her tires or pull her hair or roll my eyes. I'm not 19 anymore, I did those things
a long time (three years?) ago and I would never go back to being that person again.
The truth: it turns my stomach and boils my blood to have her be so close to me, and the fact that she knows everything about me and everything about
my relationship with him makes things even more uncomfortable for me, for the one who has now been asked to act like she has some sense. I'm no
threat to her -- she's the one in a very secure and happy relationship with the man that I want, so it only makes sense that I would be the
troublemaker, despite the fact that I have no desire or intention to cause trouble.
Its not a matter of CAN I handle this situation, its a matter of do I WANT to handle this. Do I WANT to be around her, do I WANT to spend my energy
NOT giving her dirty looks, NOT paying her any attention, NOT letting her presence disturb me? I most certainly CAN do all those things, but how
draining will that be for me? How much am I going to miss out on what is going on in the actual class because I'm too busy focusing on NOT paying
attention to HER?
Just the simple fact that this is a concern of mine points to my immaturity -- I'll admit it. But its obviously a concern of his because HE brought
it up, and while he would never ask me to NOT take the class if I decide that I want to, he CLEARLY doesnt want me to.
But by not taking it, am I going to put myself in a spiritually stagnant place? What am I going to miss out by removing myself from this situation?
How much do I have to gain, and how much do I have to lose, in either situation?
This just isnt fair. If I back out of this, at the end of the day she has him, she has the class, and I'm left over here, by myself, the honorable
and considerate -- and immature -- friend. But if I dont back out of this, just the torture of being around her -- and him, and possibly both of them
together -- could be enough to give me constant agony.
So now I just dont know what to do. And I wish that I had someone other than his teacher to discuss the dynamics of the class with because his teacher
ALSO knows everything about me and our relationship. So to ask him to give specifics about what will be asked of us and how close the participants
will be to one another is just as good as asking him will I have to talk to her and cant I just do this without having to deal with them.
And let's not forget how pissed I am to find out that he's all concerned about MY maturity level when HE went running his mouth and now both she AND
his teacher know ALL my f---ing business.
Majesty, dont even ask what I am still doing even dealing with this man -- boy -- best friend of mine, because if I could successfully get him to
never want to speak to me again I would, at this point, completely jeopardize our friendship of eight years just to be done with this ridiculous
DRAMA. I just cant believe that he has put me in a compromising position while claiming to be concerned about whats in my best interest. When he is
clearly only concerned about himself.
Some of this is me talking in anger. But some of this is me talking for real. I said that I wasnt going to let him jeopardize my progress or stand in
my way and I mean that. But Im also against torturing myself and being around him physically, because I know that it causes me pain, and I know that
its going to do nothing positive for me. If I thought that I was ready to deal with this, I would have been making the moves to reach out to my friend
and resume our relationship as it was, prior to the sex. But I had NOT been doing that, in fact I had explicitly been avoiding that and I still dont
think I'm ready.
But to risk stagnation for the sake of comfort? I just dont know what to do.
Damn he makes me sick.
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