I’ve been so busy. I told myself I’m going to learn how to have a social life and be productive at the same time, and well… I’m still learning. Although I must say, I have been being productive in areas of character and emotion.
There’s so much to write about. I can’t write it all right now, but I want to get some things out before I head out for the day. Clouds, enveloping, pass. Know that the sun is always there. And the moment arrives when the wind blows a certain way and allows for you to see that there is hope. The sun still shines. All along, it has been shining. Look for it. Wait for it. Pray for it. The sun still shines behind the clouds. The sun still shines…
Day 473
Sun and Clouds
I feel guilty… I’m kind of over My Kind. And kind of into someone new. Phillip. He’s made it to this blog before. I’ll talk about all that later. Right now I want to talk about this feeling.
Overwhelming. Good. Grateful. With a sliver of guilt. I don’t like to give up on people. I like to hope until the end of time that one day they will be good. I’m sure it has something to do with my dad. He was a good dad (to me), but I can’t speak for the rest of my siblings, and he was a horrible husband. But I always wanted to see the good in him. I always wanted him to be good.
Anyway, I had a meet-up almost date with Phillip last Wednesday. I’ve been buzzing ever since. My sis said I’ve told this story before, and maybe I have, but this time it is slightly different. This time I am here and now in the present cognizant of what’s really going on with me and with him and dealing with reality, and I think this is a first. What is going on with me is that after I met up with Phillip at his job (he’s a sexy landlord/realtor/architect and I met him at a house that he was taking doors and windows off of before they demolished it. He’s going to use the 1920’s detailing from the demolished house to put on the new house he’s buying. Tehee)… after I met up with Phillip at his job this past Wednesday, he hugged me.
We hung out on the steps of this house, listening to music, talking, and him with his power tools showing me around and telling me about detailing and demolition. He told me the truth. He said it in these words – he said that the reason he’s been keeping his distance is because he has so much going on in his world that he’s not available to court me the way he would like to court me. He said that he’s so attracted to me that he thinks he would try to sleep with me if we spent too much time together, and he knows we would both be hurt if we did anything physical at this moment in time. I can count on two fingers the number of honorable men I have dated in my life. My People was the first. Phillip is the second.
I do believe I fell in love with him. I know. I heard the part about him being unavailable to court me. I also heard him use the word court. That old fashioned, beautiful word. When I was leaving his job site on Wednesday, he hugged me. It was more than a hug. I had on this skanky shirt that kind of had some of my back out, and he put his hands on my back. I had to tip-toe to hug him just right, but I let myself fall into him. And he caressed my back. He’s a big dude, but his touch was so gentle and loving. “Are you, okay?” he asked. I was. “Where are you?” he asked, and I told him I was there. With him. “Stay with me,” he said. “Stay here with me”… I did.
I know. He said his life is a mess and he’s unavailable to court me right now, but I felt like a teenage girl when I was with him. I have been missing out on the sweetest things in life… Standing there in his embrace, I remembered that I am a woman. I had forgotten. He reminded me of what men and women do for each other. We bring each other out of the cold…
My body has been alive since that Wednesday, full of passion. My heart has been beating. To be honest, it’s a little frustrating, because I know that being available or unavailable is simply a choice, but I can’t tell him that… And to be honest, I’m not 100% sure if I would be with him, because I actually love myself these days, and as such, I can’t really give my heart to someone 100% if they haven’t shown me that they will take good care of it. And he hasn’t shown me that yet.
But I am glad. To have had that experience. I am glad to have seen the golden, beautiful possibility of an honest Love. It blows my mind when I become aware of all the ways people are living life… I think if men want to help change the world, they should pick a woman and Love her. Love her fully. Don’t cheat on her. Don’t abuse her. Don’t lie to her. Don’t manipulate her. Don’t try and control her or make her smaller or dumber or less powerful than she is. Look at her and choose to breathe life into her and see how she glows and how much life she will breathe into the world.
God Allah, for once in my life I’m going to be grown up. I’m not going to pretend that I have a relationship I don’t have, but I’m going to believe that everything is working together for my good, like You said, and I’m going to take this beautiful embrace as a sign of what can be in store for me. I will keep being patient. I will keep doing the work. I will keep praying…
My Kind? Well, I really Loved him. He’s such a goof troop and he has the best amber eyes. And I now he was really into me… But I can’t make him choose me. Phillip either. No one. So, I’ll keep taking Your lead, Allah. I’ll keep being true to my heart, but I recalibrate my will so that I can walk towards open doors; so that I may choose the things that are choosing me. I know that if I stay open, I will find my way into the beautiful embrace of the one my heart has been yearning for all along. I know it. I accept it. And I receive it. And so it is.
Thank you. Ameen.
Day 472
A Beautiful Embrace
Hi. It’s 12:09 am. I should be going to sleep, but I had one last thing on my to-do list, which is to do “emotional clean-up”, and I’m going to do so by blogging, as any other stuff might take me many hours.
Hello world. It was a good day today. I got a lot done. I was feeling like shit. I won’t get into it, but my therapist friend did this process on me where I allow myself to feel everything, whether good or bad, and so for the past few days, I’ve been feeling all this sad stuff that I thought I had already gotten over feeling. I was feeling super lonely and alone and heartbroken. I was feeling really unloved and not supported in the ways that I need and I was mad at the fact that I have so many people in my life, but so few that I can go to and just share a joyous, unguarded, open moment with. I was recognizing a deep need for joy in my life.
And so I cried a lot. But something interesting happened today. Normally, when I feel sad, I just go to the bed and go to sleep and don’t do very much. But today, I woke up feeling sad, and I got more done today than I’ve gotten done in a while. Today I practiced some of the stuff I’ve been learning over the years. The most impactful practice, though, was that I didn’t try to not feel sad. I just let myself feel sad, and did all my affirmation; said God is good and that my life is a good life; set an intention to Love and be Loved; made a commitment to be a spiritual warrior and continue to express and reveal more and never less than my true self no matter how I felt; and for the first time since I made my categorical list of the different types of things I want to do in a day, I was able to do them all.
My list includes things like, every day, I need to do something nourishing, creative, income generating, attending to some debt, organizing/cleaning, etc. I made this list not too long ago, so that I would have a practical way of making sure I take steps every day to complete the things I need to complete and move forward. Anyway, for the first time, duh duh duh, I’ve gotten to all the categories on my list!!! The last thing I need to do (and I’ve kind of already done it today, but I want to do a bit more) is some emotional clean-up. For me, emotional clean-up means doing or saying things that will help my heart feel free. It includes writing letters or having conversations that feel like the lack thereof is blocking me from resolving a situation that hurts my heart, or forgiving someone completely and being able to get to a place where I bless them and wish them well, or saying sorry to someone who I feel I owe an apology, or just giving my heart and my emotions a bath, making things free again.
Tonight I would like to give my heart a bath. I’ve been thinking about men a lot lately and Love, and I realize it has been a long time, a very long time, since I’ve been in love with anyone who was in love with me. My last love interest was My Kind, and the good part of our relationship was over a year ago. And I don’t know too many examples in my personal life of the kind of relationship that I would like to have with a man. You forget that things are possible if you don’t see them or experience them.
So, for a moment, I would like to use my will and my True Imagination to see Love again. I would like to bathe my heart in possibility. I would like to remember what it felt like to feel safe in a man’s arms and I would like to imagine that there is a man somewhere who would be honored to make a safe place for my heart. Let us remember when we were kids and we thought love could be like the movies. Somebody wrote those movies, so somebody knew it was real. If we can think it up- we are human beings and I am not talking about pigs flying here- we can make Love real. I’m not the only idealist. There must be at least one other being on this planet who would be willing to Love boldly and be true to me and be true to himself.
So you. I am thinking of you tonight. What does it feel like to be Loved by you? What does it feel like to be held and know that your arms will be there again and again? It feels like an adventure. Like the movies. It feels like cotton candy and pillows and a wide open heart. It feels like I’m alive again. I can breathe easy now. It feels like my father’s redemption. I am a painter and you are my muse and I am your heart and you are my head and we are each other’s covering. Like the Q’uran. We are each other’s clothing, coming in from the cold. You say that I am beautiful and you see me. You see me. You don’t just see what I can do for you or who I am in relation to you or how I make you feel. You see me. Period. It is such a joy to be fed by you. It is such a joy to be loved by you. It is such a joy to wash your dirty drawers and kiss your mouth. It is such a joy to give all of me to you. It is such a joy to give to you and be received. It is such a joy to be received… I Love you so much. I Love you so much. I Love you. Thank you. Ameen.
Day 471
Like The Movies
Ok. I’ve been out of my head for a while, meaning I’ve been out in the world interacting with people and doing a bunch of work and stuff. I must say, the world is a crazy place, and starting this blog is one of the best things I’ve ever done for myself.
If I didn’t take a moment to sit and think and point myself in a particular direction, I would get so caught up in so much. There is so much going on in the world. I don’t even know where to start. I think I was in Hawaii the last time I posted an entry. I’m in LA now. Been here almost fourteen days.
Hit the ground running. Got back on my birthday, and on my birthday, I had my first ever pitch meeting. A pitch meeting is where you meet with film or television executives and you tell them about a project you want to create. They can buy your idea, or they can ask you to join them to create your idea. So, on my birthday, some of kind of way, I managed to be in the room with four network executives and tell them about an idea I have… It didn’t stop there. The next week, I had another meeting with a Hollywood person. Then I had two writing deadlines for two projects and I completed those and submitted my projects.
My mom’s job sent her to Cali, so she’s here, as well as some other family members, including a brand new nephew that I have…
It’s the next day now. I got interrupted by a phone call by my new friend (I’ll call him Life) while I was blogging yesterday. Then I went to my spiritual center. Then I went and got some groceries. Then I talked to another friend on the phone. Then I fell asleep.
Slept longer than I usually do. I’ll be honest. I wanted to stay asleep longer because I didn’t want to face the day. Overwhelmed with the pace of life. Overwhelmed because it seems like I’m just barely holding on, trying to catch up to things. I’m doing it, but not with ease. It’s a challenge.
And I’m by myself still. I know, I have friends and family. I’m not alone in the world. But I generally get less work done when I’m around them than when I’m by myself. Sometimes they help with stuff. My sisters cleaned up my house the other day. But when they are off their jobs or have a free moment, they don’t want to work on stuff, mine or theirs. And so we end up talking for hours, or watching TV or movies, or going to find something entertaining to do, and although I miss the company of humans, I also sometimes end up feeling like, “Man. I should have stayed home. I would have gotten my printer fixed (or anything else on my seemingly endless “to-do” list) if I was by myself.”
So here we are. I was dreading facing this day because today I’m supposed to do all this stuff that I have been having resistance to doing. Like write a few letters and have a few uncomfortable conversations with people…
I messed up on one of the applications I turned in – I still qualify for the program, but I filled one section out wrong and I can’t fix it. I have to follow up on the meeting I had last week with the fancy lady. I have a meeting this weekend with more fancy women and I have to finish polishing a script before I meet with them. I have a long list of unfinished writing projects. Still need to tell my neighbor a piece of my mind about the bed he came in my apartment and took (over a year ago). Still need to do some work on a passive income endeavor I had started. Need to wash my walls and finish cleaning out my closet. Have a heart to heart with one of my friends who’s been flaking on me for years and just flaked on me this weekend. Have a convo with my writing bud, who felt bad because she didn’t meet the goals she had set for herself, so went MIA for a bit and just reached out to me. I got a traffic ticket recently (from a camera that took a pic of me turning without first stopping at a light), and I need to handle that. Need to handle a few other erroneous debts, and start researching another passive income endeavor… But before I get knee deep in any other income endeavors… Oh yeah, I need to email my writer’s group lady and update my membership and ask her some questions. What I really need is an assistant or some help. Maybe I can hire someone to help me finish with my apartment stuff, cleaning and sorting, and that will cut things in half.
I think I need to make some income next week. Haven’t really been focusing on that, but money has just been going out and not coming in, and eventually if I don’t balance that, I will find myself at a deficit.
The one thing that is not on my unfinished business list is men, and that is strange for me. Sometimes I think of My Kind and I miss him – He is caught up, like I used to be. He’s holding on to everything from his past, not healing his heart, and just dragging women into his confusion out of fear of being alone. He doesn’t even know he’s doing this, but he knows that there is a pain that won’t leave no matter who he’s with.
I am thankful for that, Allah. The pain that wouldn’t leave for so long is finally dissipating. I’m not used to walking through life without so many wounds, but I can get used to this. I’m not used to not having some man in my life making me cry, but I can get used to this. I’m not used to energy flowing through all parts of my body, but I can get used to this. I’m not used to not having someone to fight, heck, I’m not used to not wanting to fight, but I can get used to this. I can source passion in other ways… I’m not used to not knowing what will come next, not being in control of it all, but I can get used to this. This is the actual practice. This is the time to put my money where my mouth is. I said I wanted to be a self-actualized being. I said I wanted to be a center point, a place that Love and Light comes from… I said I wanted my heart to be free – completely free. I said I wanted to be free. I didn’t want to hold any more anger or resentment or darkness in me, although I recognize that the darkness is a teacher and it has its place, too… I said I wanted to do all the work I came to this Earth to do, holding nothing back, and I meant it.
I suppose I was gonna have to change and grow, and sometimes I’d be confused. I suppose it’s time to finish all this unfinished business, so I can move forward into the Light. My new friend Life told me to stop being late on things and start being early. He’s more or a mentor than a friend, but I’ll talk about him another time. I know he is from God. I know that I am really never left alone to fend for myself and figure things out on my own. You send me helpers, whether I’m aware of them or not. You send me angels in my dreams, and in real life, You provide the right situations to make my stubborn heart learn and grow. And I am thankful. I am thankful. Ameen.
Day 470
On Finishing
Sitting at the park in Hawaii. Near my sister’s place.
Went to the ocean snorkeling yesterday. Came back exhausted and disoriented. People say many things about the ocean and what it can do to sensitive folks.
I didn’t like the ocean yesterday. One minute it was clear and blue and I was underwater with schools of fish swimming by me the next, a storms was brewing and the water became dark and dangerous. We got out before anything got too serious, but not before I felt like throwing up.
When I’m off balance, writing this blog is the best thing I can do. I’m off balance, and I need to get centered because I have action to take. This week, I have the most important meeting of my creative career thus far. It is a meeting that could change the tide of everything.
But I have to be ready for it, and being ready for it means finishing up on a presentation and turning it in by end of day tomorrow. I don’t know if that is why I feel so sad and off. I don’t know if I’m picking up on my sister’s vibes or she’s picking up on mine, but we are both feeling sad and off. And that won’t do.
I wonder what life will be like when there are no more sad things to write about, when there is more than enough money for the rest of my life and for all of my family, when there is a beautiful man and a healthy relationship and some cute kids. When I’m actually thriving in my field. What will I write about then?
The last time I’ve felt peace and harmony and Love… the last time I’ve felt ease in my heart and mind has been so long ago. Maybe I am afraid. What do we do when we are afraid of the good things but the bad things will no longer do? I know, God, that you are leading me out of the darkness at last.
What will my life be like?
You have sent me so many blessings. I am surprised that I am still here, alive. I have been reckless with the gifts you’ve given me. I’m sorry. So… I think I’ve spent enough time crying. You know, it’s like I feel like I won’t fit in anymore if my life is all right, but I don’t want to fit in anymore. I don’t want to be crying every day any more. I want to be all right now.
You told me to choose something, so that is what I’m choosing now. I’m choosing. I’m choosing to be all right. I’m choosing to let my brain sort all the survivor’s guilt and confusion out. If it’s true that we can have whatever we choose, then I’m choosing to be all right. I’m choosing to know and experience the good things in life. I’m choosing to be whole at last. I’m choosing to allow for everything to work out and to have peace in my soul and heart and mind and in my relationships.
I’m choosing to have healthy relationships at last and to have resolution on everything, even people don’t want to resolve things with me. It’s time. Its time to stop cowing down and crying all the time. I am worthy of the very best in life. I am worthy of the very best in life. I am worthy of the very best in life. There is nothing to feel bad about. There is nothing to feel guilty about.
I can hear my dead friend Matsemala telling me to get up now and do God’s work. He used to tell me that all he wanted to do was God’s work. He had such an urgency. He died before he was able to do all the things he wanted to do, but I can feel him, proud of me, telling me to get up and Love somebody now. Get up and help these young women now. Get up and experience joy now and create works that set my heart on fire. Get up and Live. It’s time. It’s time to get up and live…
Ameen.
Day 469
Time To Live
Hi there. I’m posting an entry that I wrote a couple of days ago but didn’t get to post. I’m in Hawaii. I’m grateful to be alive. Write more later. Hope you are well…
This Notion of Choosing
So many things to write about.
On a flight, packed, to my favorite place on Earth.
Men on the mind, as usual, but something different this time.
Life has shifted again. Been writing love letters, hate letters, forgiveness letters, apology letters, and setting myself free.
Met a new friend. A friend. I know, right? A person like me, interested and willing to take brave action on his dreams…. My new friend brought a notion to my mind. He said that every man I’ve ever engaged with wanted to marry me, but they were afraid – they were afraid I was going to leave them, so they sabotaged the relationship or didn’t make a deep commitment. He said that it was up to me to choose a man. Don’t worry about him choosing me. He will.
The notion sounds too good to be true. In fact, I want to negate it and say, “No. I have chosen such and such and he didn’t choose me back,” but it’s not true. I never wholeheartedly chose My Kind. And even though I was totally googoo gaga about Mr. Almost Famous, I always thought he was out of my league and wouldn’t even consider the notion of choosing him – I didn’t realize you could just choose a thing before knowing if it chose you. The only person I have come close to choosing was My People. I actually believe I chose him – but not for long. For like a week. When he wasn’t sure if he wanted to choose me back, and wasn’t willing to take the time to consider the notion of being my husband right at the moment I wanted him to consider the notion of being my husband (regardless of whatever else was going on in his life, including dead daddy) I closed my heart to him in that way.
And now I am sitting on a plane going to my favorite place on Earth and thinking about this notion of choosing, particularly choosing a thing before you know if it chooses you. My new friend said, “Your wish is your command”, and it is such a bold statement. The thought of actually wholeheartedly choosing something, whether it be job or man or state or state of being, and believing you can have it, and then somehow not having what you choose is so horrifying, that I have spent a very long time just not choosing. And now you tell me that I can have anything I choose. Anything? It almost sounds like blasphemy. It almost sounds like the most unfair thing in the world. Like there is a secret group who knows this little tidbit of information, and they are living the lives of their dreams, while everyone else is suffering so much.
At my spiritual center today, the speaker said that the rest of the world, our brothers and sisters who are starving and being bombed and heartbroken, are counting on us to wake up – those of us who have the luxury to meditate and read books and eat without worrying about survival. Those of us who can sit on a plane and even contemplate this notion of choosing. I am overwhelmed with gratitude for this thought – for this notion of choosing. My new friend has come with so much good news. What if I could go back, I think, and revisit any man I’ve ever known, would I choose any of them? Just as is? If I knew that they wouldn’t change not one inch of one dime for the rest of their lives, would I really say, “Yes. I want to be with you as is. Forever. I choose you to partner up and align with for the rest of my life.”
It’s a tough question to answer, because answering it causes me to have to take responsibility for much of the pain and many of the failed relationships I’ve experienced. They never had a chance and they knew it. No wonder they acted a plum fool with me. I am just beginning to understand this life thing and how to navigate it…
To Love someone doesn’t mean to choose them
And to like someone doesn’t mean to choose them
Even to be with someone doesn’t mean that deep down in the depth of your secret thoughts, in your
journal that you’ve never written, you’ve wholeheartedly chosen someone
Or some thing
Or some way
Life has a way of knowing and showing where the chasm is between what we say we want and what we have wholeheartedly chosen.
First, choose to be honest with yourself about what you choose
The rest should come easier.
I didn’t choose any of them, if I’m being honest, and I am contemplating whether I would choose any of them now. It scares me. You know what scares me most? I know it sounds crazy. But what scares me most is that I will choose something and then I will have it. I have gotten used to this bull-shitty life. For me to have any of the things I really dreamed of… do you know how miraculous it would be? Do you know how miraculous it would be for me, the ugly little sad girl from the ghetto, to be happy? Or to be wildly in love with someone who’s wildly in love with me and partnering with me in life and being good to me? Or to have passive income and never have to worry about money again? Or to be working my dream career? Do you know what my dream career is? It is so awesome compared to anything I’ve ever personally experienced. Do you know what it would be for me to have friends and community who journey with me and lift me up and let me journey with them and lift them up? And, oh, I don’t even think about it because it seems so big. Do you know what it would mean for me to be a mother – to have some little big-eyed babies? I would have so much fun with them. I would pour so much love into them…
If I’m going to contemplate this notion of choosing – I mean, I’ve been talking about it and flirting with it for some time – but if I’m going to really contemplate and experiment with this belief that you really can have anything you choose, then I guess the first thing I will think about is the men. First action – go through my heart and see if there is anyone who has passed through who I would like to choose now. And if not, un-choose all of them or (yikes) choose one wholeheartedly.
I’ll let you know how this turns out. Good night, world.
Day 468 – This Notion of Choosing
Hi. It’s 1:40 am… I can’t sleep. Took a nap earlier today. Spent the day by myself today. Feel far away from the world. Want to connect…
I’m leaving soon. Going places where there is no resistance to sharing love and life with others. For the past month or so, I’ve been trying to build connections and bonds here in LA, but haven’t gotten much momentum. Everyone I know is in their own world. They’re either not willing or able to live life with me, and what’s more, there’s so much resistance or lack of appreciation when I try and offer love and connectivity in the ways I can…
And I’m starving. I didn’t realize it ’till the other day. I’m a Love child, and I’m starving.
This past weekend was so lovely. One of my very best friends came into town, just for the weekend, just to see me. I felt so special. We drove out to Northern Cali to a conference I wanted to go to. We had so much fun. We listened to my Feminine Power tapes on the way there and paused and discussed the different things on the tapes. We ate good food and laughed so much. We took pictures of cows and olive trees and grapes and oranges and lakes. We held each other. It was so nice. Like a dream. He and I don’t have any unresolved issues. I’ve known him for a long time and we’ve had many fights, but at this point, I trust that he will tell me the truth and be there for me when I need, and he trusts the same in me. And it was so lovely…
Of course he had to go back home, and I came back to my apartment, but not the same as I was before I left. My apartment was empty. My life was empty. I did the math, and I guess it’s been about two months since I called it quits with My Kind. And it was about two months ago that I started having panic attacks and feeling so depressed. I didn’t realize that I was heartbroken. I didn’t even put two and two together. I was heartbroken. I am heartbroken…
Don’t really know why I was so in love with him. He’s probably the most average Joe I’ve ever dated. But I Loved his golden amber eyes. And I loved the way he would hold me. I don’t believe I’ve ever felt safe in anyone’s arms before him. But he was hurting me so much. He was killing me and he didn’t even know it. He went from treating me so good to not answering calls, not returning texts for days… He lives right on the next block, but I wouldn’t see him sometimes for a whole week. He would hold back and not look me in the eyes anymore when I would see him, and I would ask him what’s going on, and he would say “nothing”. I would wait for him to have dinner with me like we used to, but he would call me after he had eaten dinner on his own, right when he was about to fall asleep. And he would talk to me in his business tone and fall asleep while we were talking… And it was hurting me. And I would tell him how he was hurting me, but he wouldn’t do anything differently. Instead, he would just say something like, “I hear you” and keep doing the same things.
I asked him what he wanted with me, what kind of relationship he wanted to create. He could only tell me what he didn’t want. “I don’t want to lose you,” he said. I’m old enough to know that nothing is created in mutuality with two people choosing to create it, and so I knew that our relationship wasn’t going anywhere, because he refused to choose me. If he would have said, “I want to be with you” or if he would have said, “I’m trying to figure out what I want”, then there would have been some hope. But he didn’t know what he wanted, nor was he trying to figure it out. What he was trying to do is avoid dealing with himself and his issues. What he was trying to do is escape anything that made him feel uncomfortable…
Before the new year, I had bought him all this health stuff that he needed. I was traveling, and I wanted to see him before I traveled. And I called him and told him that I wanted to see him before I leave town and that I wanted to give him his health stuff. He said, “OK”. He called me around 8p, but I missed his call. Then I called him at 9p and he didn’t answer. And he didn’t answer at 10. Or 11. Or 12. I messed around and needed a ride to the airport. Had a 5am flight. Called him. Texted him and asked for help. He didn’t answer or respond. Didn’t hear from him till three days later, when he sent me a text asking if everything was all right…
I guess emotionally, that was the end for me. Physically, though, I would see him a couple more times when I came back in town. The last time I saw him, I asked him if he had been seeing any other women. He had. I do believe I left my body for a moment. When I came back, I was full of pain. I think sometime later he texted me at night telling me he was going to call me. I waited up all night for his call. He didn’t call. I fell asleep crying, and the next morning, I decided I was tired of him hurting me.
I cut things off. Went ghetto “I’ll bust the windows out your car if you fuck with me ever again” with him. I didn’t mean it, but I kind of did. I needed him to understand the seriousness of the damage he was doing. I needed him to understand that some people don’t take it lightly when others mess with their hearts on purpose…
The other day I thought of him. I decided not to think about the last two months of our interaction and instead thought of the first two months. I wanted to remember how it felt to be in Love and to feel safe. I wanted to remember my brief experience with reciprocity and with having a man treat me exactly like I wanted to be treated. After all is said and done, I was in Love. And I was overjoyed to be sharing life with someone who liked doing mundane things like washing clothes and going grocery shopping together; someone who liked giggling and someone who would just hold me when I was mad instead of getting mad at me for being mad. He was height, weight, and age appropriate and he didn’t smoke or drink or have any kids or any other major hangups. And he had a job. And a degree. And a place of his own. And he paid his own bills and helped other people. He was always looking for ways he could help when he was around…
There were things about him that would have prevented us from being a good match – he wasn’t willing to go after his real dreams in life. That’s not a deal breaker, though, ‘cus I think he’d change that when he saw me succeeding at my real dreams. It made him a bit less focused, though. Sometimes he would want to join him as he found ways to amuse himself when I was trying to focus and work on things I was trying to accomplish, and maybe as a partner, if he was around all the time and didn’t have anything he was focused on, it would take me off track or be a source of stress in my life. The real deal breaker, though was that he didn’t deal with conflict well. He would withdraw, say everything’s ok, and then run away…
What I know is that if My Kind really wanted to be with me, then he would say it and he would be with me…
Anyway, I’m going to sleep now. Guess I had to get that sadness off my chest. I’m not gonna pretend like I understand anything. I’m not gonna psychoanalyze myself and beat myself up and say, “Why is Laydie so alone?” I’m not gonna pretend like this shit doesn’t hurt. It does. But what I know about grief is that it hurts less and less as time goes on if you deal with it. If you don’t deal with it, then it just sits inside you undermining everything you do until one day a simple trigger blows it up and you have a panic attack or a meltdown or something.
So I’ll deal with it now. I’ll just cry. I mean, crying must have some sort of purpose. I’ll just cry and I’ll simultaneously find ways to keep my heart open and find people I can share Love with. I’m not going out without a fight, y’all. I am in this to win this and if I die before I make it to the other side of self actualization, no one will ever say that I didn’t do my best…
What I’m gonna do is focus on the life I’m creating now, continue resolving any old issues or old pains, and move in the direction of the things that bring love and peace and joy and abundance to my life, let my intentions be known to the people I Love and the people I want to connect with, and be open to the possibility that everyone I choose may not choose me at the time I choose them, but keep on choosing until I find an open door…
Good night everyone.
Day 467
Broken Hearts and Shtuff
Hey there. Good evening. I’m at Panera Bread feeling urgent. Feeling an urgency. Maybe I’m dying or something, but I just feel such an urgency to get everything out of me right now, have every conversation I need to have, say all my sorry, tell everyone off that I need to tell off, and do all the things I’ve wanted to do with my life for so long.
Today I met with the Old Prophet for lunch. On Monday I went to Whole Foods and he was there. He gave me a massage, and he said some things. He said to me, “If you were more sophisticated, you would have had me in the palm of your hands.” I didn’t curse him out. I just flipped the statement on him and told him, “If you were more sophisticated, you would have had me in the palm of your hands.” He understood his offense and apologized.
What he had meant to say is that he really had loved me. He really wanted to start a life with me, and he wished that I would have been mature enough to see through his bullshit asshole-ish ways and stick with him until he felt safe enough to reveal all the love he had for me. I understood. I hadn’t been mature enough to stick with him, but I don’t regret it. His asshole-ish ways took a lifetime to develop and it will take just as long for him to change them, and there are nicer men… There are just nicer men who are a little more brave.
I do regret, however, breaking his heart. I regret all the hearts I’ve broken. I regret the many mean things I’ve said to people. I regret throwing away people who Loved me. I do regret that. But I don’t regret keeping my distance from people who were actively trying to hurt me.
There’s a balance to be had. There’s a place to be where you can say to another, “You can’t come around if you’re going to hurt me, but if you choose to have a good intention towards me, you are more than welcome to come talk to me later.” There’s a place for reprimand and there’s a place for encouragement. And there’s a place where you just Love anyway. There’s a place where you may keep your distance, but you pray for good things for your fellow human anyway…
I met with the Old Prophet today. We talked. I told him the things that had hurt me. He had forgotten. I told him the good things that I appreciated. He said that if everybody got every thing they ever wanted, the world would be a mess. He was sweet. Velvet skin. Wise, frisky eyes like my grandma. We said we weren’t meant to be and he thanked me for talking to him…
I’ll keep it going. It’s not easy. My body trembles with each release. I cry. My brain gets foggy for a bit. And then it clears up. And then there is one less pain inside of me and I feel a little more free. It’s a process way overdue, but it’s time. It’s time to forgive. It’s time to let go. It’s time to stop judging and stop trying to play God and just be honest and finally be wise; act like I’ve actually been through everything I’ve been through and act like I’ve learned something from it. Its time to do the thing I love doing most. Love. It’s time to Love…
Day 466
Time To Love
I’m thirty plus. Most people don’t know that. They think I’m in my twenties. But I’m not. I’m thirty. Plus. It’s not relevant, but it’s worth mentioning…
My brain is all over the place, or rather, my mind is all over the place. You know what is a trip to me? How sometimes it feels like you’re in a vortex. There are heavy clouds all around you and all you can do is feel their weight. You can’t think. You can’t smile. You don’t feel anything but pain. You’re not present. Your mind is scattered. And then the next moment, it’s like you’re living a whole other life. Your mind is free. You are hopeful. You can focus. You enjoy the company of others. You clean your house…
That’s where I am right now. Out of the dark place. I watched “Get Out” this weekend, and I will refer to the dark place as the sunken place now. The sunken place is the place of being lost; the place where you cannot think; the place where you are amenable to any suggestion fed into your brain, and you are unable to process things on your own; you feel trapped. I am out of the sunken place today.
I am at USC. My writing bud just went home, and now I’ll be here for some time doing work on my own. I need a shoulder massage. The Old Prophet (the old guy who I dated some years ago who turned out to be an ass) gives massages at Whole Foods on Mondays. He’s a great masseuse. He will give me a massage for free. Told me I should come by and see him. Gave me a massage some months ago, but then when he was done, he said, “See you later, baby.” Him calling me baby made me feel violated… Not quite sure what to do about that…
Hello world. I have been traveling through galaxies in my mind. Do you know what has been happening? I have been having to make tough decisions. My life was shit. My life had been shit for some time, but I didn’t know it. By shit, I mean that my life was nothing like the life I had envisioned for myself. The eight general life structures – money, relationships, life’s purpose/work, community, self-identity, health, beliefs, spirituality/religion – all shit. The only thing that was kind of healthy was my spirituality, but I hadn’t really picked a side as far as deciding what concrete religious/spiritual path I was gonna follow.
I have been trying really hard for my life not to be shit for some time, and I have made a lot of progress in some areas, but still other areas were so heavy that I had a hard time getting to a place where I was stable. And do you know what happened this weekend? I decided that the days of my shitty life were over. They are over. I just made a choice. My therapist friend helped me. Things had been getting too bad. I had been too consistently emotionally unstable for too long, and the kind of deep depression I was experiencing just wasn’t sustainable. So I had to make a choice. Am I gonna keep living like this, just fighting depression, fighting people, fighting circumstances, or am I gonna do something different? What if I could do and be anything? I know it’s crazy to think that, but I had to think it, because there was no way out of the heavy cloud without thinking that anything is possible.
So I allowed myself to think that anything is possible. What if I am really who I imagined I am? The me that I never tell anyone about. What if it’s not just a dream or a fantasy or some thing to do or be in the future? What if I am me now? What if I am 30 plus years old and wise now? What if my brain could figure this thing out? What if I really had a spirit and an intuition that would tell me what to do? What if I really did live in a safe world, like all these books I’m reading keep telling me? What if happiness and joy were options not dependent on circumstances? What if I could just love my family and my friends and whatever man hurt or rejected me and forgive them even if they never changed a doggone thing. Doesn’t mean I have to participate in abuse. What if I could set boundaries so that I didn’t allow abusive people to abuse me? What if I could enjoy this moment? This very moment of being able to sit in a library with hopeful young people. This very moment of being able to have the space and time to process my thoughts without worrying about if I’m going to eat today or if my rent is getting paid. What if I could be grateful for my writing bud, the kindred soul who just sat with me as we spoke about our lives and goals and promised to hold each other accountable? What if I could be grateful for my friend who did a therapy session on me last night, hundreds of dollars worth, for free. What if I could just be grateful today and just take action and trust that life is going to keep getting better and better?
Last night I chose my spiritual/religious path. I’m not gonna tell you, for their will be negative judgement no matter what I picked. The point is, I picked something. I decided. I committed. I had been teeter tottering in the in-between for quite some time. I had been imagining that I could be a thing in some far away fantasy instead of just stepping into the thing I want to be and becoming my fully actualized self. I had been feeling so powerless, like I was on the puppet strings of everyone and everything around me.
But I’m not. It’s not true. I have power. I can’t control anyone or anything else, but I can control me. I can choose how to spend this very moment. I can choose which religion and which path I will look to for guidance. I can choose to choose something that is easy for me. I can choose something challenging. I can choose to forgive every single person who ever hurt me and say every single thing to every single person I want to say something to, and I can choose to just let it all go. Just let it go at last. Let people be who they are, and if they choose to be loving and kind towards me, I can choose to welcome them into my life, and if they choose to have no good intention for me, I can choose to deny access to them. I can choose to be there for whoever I want however I want. I can choose…
Today I choose to see myself as already whole. No more standing on the outside of life. No more imagining that there is some dangling carrot out there ahead of me that I will never get. Today, I choose to be my full and complete self. No more begging. I choose to come with all of my things. My words, my heart, my brain, my body, my humility, my power, my wisdom, my courage, my strength, my deep deep Love. People will not understand why I do some of the things I do. It’s Ok. They will project their own beliefs on to me. I don’t care. I choose to be myself anyway.
Today I am not a woman begging to be a writer, trying to be a lover, crying for love, hoping that one day someone will save me somehow. Today I am a writer. That’s it. I am a writer and my words heal, uplift, entertain, encourage and nourish. Today I Love and I am receptive and appreciative of all the love that already comes towards me in so many ways. Today I am my own hero and I step out into the world knowing that the One who created me always makes a safe space for me to be… Today I am 30. 30 plus. And Golden. And Humble. And Grateful… And Wise…
Day 465
Thirty Plus (And Glowing)
I’m woke up two hours later than I usually do. It’s been that way for at least four days. I’ve been sick – cold got me. And I haven’t been doing much productive. I’ve just been at home sleeping most of the day and feeling like shit.
But today I’m up. It’s 8:12am and I’m writing. I want to write about what happened to me, and I want to let it go. I’ve been struggling. Not just with my physical health. I notice that my physical health is deeply entwined with my emotional and mental health these days. It’s probably always been that way, but I’m just noticing it.
What happened to me is that I got into a small disagreement with someone close to me. But that small disagreement triggered the thought of larger disagreements and betrayals from said person, and I had a panic attack. I wrote about the situation without filter on this blog. I decided to keep a distance from said person for a while, as I had a lot of work to do and a lot of deadlines coming up, and I knew I wasn’t going to be able to do any work if I’m running around having panic attacks and being knocked out for a day or days. So I kept my distance, but it hurt me. But I got work done.
About a week later, I spoke with my mom and told her the situation. I was already feeling real threadbare fragile. I messed around and accidentally told my mom that I wrote about my disagreement online. Prior to that conversation, my mom had no idea that I have a blog online where I pour my guts out. My mom got upset. She didn’t want me to write about my personal business online. She didn’t want me to write about anyone else’s business online. She wanted to see what I had written. I didn’t send it to her. I didn’t want her to track down my writings and find this blog.
This blog is my therapy. This blog is the place where I feel almost completely free to express myself exactly how I want to and people will just read it and mostly not judge me and be ok with the fact that I’m growing and I have issues and not get their feelings hurt or try to guide me or change me if I think one way or the other about something. With the exception of one close friend, I really have a space like this blog anywhere in my life. And so I wasn’t willing to let her in. Because, if she doesn’t even approve of the fact that I share anything personal online, imagine what she will think when she finds out that I curse. Or that I hate almost everybody half the time. Or that I’m really not the religion she wants me to be… I didn’t tell her what my blog was, and she got mad.
When I spoke to her next, she spoke to me in her accusatory tone. “I just knew you didn’t want me to read what you wrote because you knew I wouldn’t approve of it. Why would you write something that I don’t approve of?” she asked. And I became 11 years old again. I became little. I became unsafe. I knew that if my mom really knew what I thought and felt about life and the world, then she wouldn’t like me. She would pray for me so that I don’t go to hell. She would be confused. She would look at me with disapproving eyes. I knew that I my mom wouldn’t really approve of me just the way I truly am. Not because she doesn’t love me. Not because she doesn’t want the best for me. Because she believes there is a good way to be. She wants me to be the good way that she sees. And if I’m not, then she worries that I’m going to suffer in life, be punished, etc.
This may sound small as I’m writing it, but it was huge to me at the time…
As I’m writing, I just received a phone call from one person, and a text message from another. Both men. Both had asked me to be their wife this past weekend. I know. I’ve known both for many years. At least ten. One is currently married and separated, and the last time I saw the other was a few months ago. I went to his house, sat on his couch, and got bitten by bedbugs, which I then brought home to my couch. And then I threw away my couch. I’m standing in my couch-less apartment as I write. But I digress. The devil is a thief and a liar…
To make a long story short, after the incident with my mom, I started to doubt. I doubted whether I should share things about my personal life online, or anywhere else for that matter. People would judge me. People may not like me. People might say, “Aha! Look! She’s crazy!” or “Aha! Look how many men she’s dated!” or “Aha! Her life is shit!” They may not want to hire me if they knew that I’ve struggled with depression for time or if they knew that I’ve had panic attacks. They may think I’m nuts if I talk about magic or spirits or intuition. They may find arrogant or self-righteous. They may not agree with my viewpoint. Or think I’m stupid. So all things went through my head, and then I couldn’t write.
Found myself editing my private journals right here in my apartment. Had poems flowing out of me and posted them online and then took them down immediately. Deleted the blog post that I had told mom about. Wondered why I would go into a profession where, no matter if you write fiction or autobiographical blogs, people are going to know your viewpoint. People are going to know your experiences. People are going to know where you come from. Wondered why anyone would want to have a career where essentially you say, “Here. This is all of me. Look at me. Judge me. Judge every sentence. Judge every rhyme. Take everything I am and if you don’t like it, if you think it’s crazy, then hey, I gave it to you for you to do as you please.”
I considered going into my shell, pressing stop, and changing the course of my life. I considered not being a writer anymore. I considered going back to the religion of my birth and just doing what my mom said so that she would love me, I mean like me. And I was eleven again. I considered just opening my door back up to people who obviously hurt me, just so I won’t be alone (that’s why these two ridiculous men are calling/texting me right now). “Cut after I cut all the assholes out of my life, there was no one left. And I was alone. And I don’t like being all alone.
So, what happened? I cried. Threw myself a huge pity party where I was the only one invited. I stopped doing the things that needed to be done for my progress. I got sick. I gave two different strange men my number, knowing that I would never ever want to marry them. I went to the park with my stupid married friend, who’s texting me right now, and I answered the phone when my non-married friend (who’s been wanting to be with me for years) called. And I told him the truth when he asked if I ever felt even any little thing for him ever. I should have just said no, so we could keep things like it is. But instead, I told the complex truth, knowing that he wouldn’t understand shit. And now he’s calling me thinking he has an opening. I didn’t do my daily prayers, readings or meditations that I have been doing for the past two months or so…
And after four days of being sick and wreaking havoc, I had a scary dream last night. And woke up with my hands trembling. Body still kind of has a subtle tremor in it, if I’m being honest.
I had to make a decision. I have to make a decision. I Love to write. Writing is not all there is to me. More than write, I love to Love. I Love to dance. I Love to connect with people. Can you believe that my shy ass loves connecting with people authentically more than anything else? But I don’t like fake stuff. I don’t like stuff that’s out of harmony. I like it when pure Love is expressed between two or more people and there is no distrust and no hold back and no jealousy or envy or ill-will. That’s really who I am. I found me. I write because it saves my life. And sometimes it helps other people, too.
I had to come to terms with my eleven-year-old self. I am coming to terms with her as I write. A lot of things happened when I was eleven. An older guy who lived with us kissed me. It was my first kiss. I told my brother, who has my closest friend at the time. He told me that I should tell mom, but I wouldn’t, so he told on me. And then he stopped talking to me – just wouldn’t say shit to me. Would pass me in the halls of our house and walk right by – for a month. My mom kicked the older guy out of our house, but before he left, I wasn’t allowed to be anywhere in the house alone with him… You have to understand, at eleven years old, I was an ugly, awkward girl. Nobody at school liked me. I was too tall, too pimply, too skinny. My hair was too short. My skin was the wrong tone. I was too awkward. Too smart. So this older guy in our house was my friend. He liked me. He was nice to me. He would call me pretty. He would buy me little candies from the store. He would talk to me… I wasn’t allowed to be alone with him after our kiss, but one day we ended up in the same place at the same time. He took the opportunity to tell me that the only reason that he kissed me is that I reminded him of someone else. I went to the bathroom, locked myself in there, threw up and cried. About a month later, my mom noticed that my brother wasn’t speaking to me. She had a meeting with us and asked him why. He said he didn’t want to talk to me because I was bad and I liked boys.
I guess you could say that that was the first trauma of my life. My brother and I fought about whether or not I was bad for more than 20 years until I finally had a heart to heart with him some time ago. He barely remembered the incident. And my mother? So many things happened between us over the years. She always treated me like I was up to something sneaky or bad, especially when it came to guys. She always treated me like liking guys or having guy friends was the worst thing in the world… And I always liked guys and had guy friends. I was tom boy sandwiched in between an older and a younger brother. How could I not like guys? I didn’t understand this theory that any guy who came close to you was trying to do something sexual with you, because, although I had had that traumatizing experience at eleven, I had also had very safe experiences with men throughout my life… I wonder if my mom told the guy who kissed me to tell me that he didn’t like me. I think I’ll ask her about it today. The guy eventually told me sorry…
It’s 9:30am and I’m meeting with my writing bud today. I have a writing bud. I said it in the blog post that I deleted. I absolutely Love her. She called me yesterday to find out why I had flaked on our writing meeting. I told her and she gave me encouraging words. I like the fact that she is naturally strong in the areas I am weak and vice versa. So I’m gonna get dressed in a minute so I can meet her on time and write my heart out and get back on track.
I want to say, though, the decision that I came to. About writing. About whether or not I’m bad. About my eleven-year-old self. About life and relationships. While my mom was trying to convince me not to share my business online, she said, “Maya Angelou doesn’t tell people her personal business” and I remembered reading or hearing somewhere that Maya Angelou had gotten raped as a child. It just so happened that someone on my social media posted a video of Maya Angelou talking about her rape, her first trauma, and how it molded her. I looked at her in a different light. You know, the people who know her know who it was who raped her. They know who the story is about. So why did she get in front of the world and share something so painful, something that could be perceived as so humiliating? People are going to judge her. They are going to think she’s dirty or diseased or bad or all manner of things. Why did she choose to share her pain with us?
I ask myself this question. Why did I choose to write and tell stories, and moreover, why did I feel it was necessary to share so many of my secrets with strangers? Truth is, there’s gonna come a day when I’m not gonna remember most of this. For now, I choose to write because I have to. It frees me. It’s really selfish. I’d like to say, “Oh, I want to heal the world and I want people to feel validated and know that they’re ok,” but that’s a byproduct. That’s a byproduct when people tell the truth. When people tell the truth, when people share in the ways they are inspired to share, when people choose to love and heal, it ripples out into the world. I choose to write because I want to live, and I want to be free…
And to my eleven-year-old self, I want to tell you, that you are good. I’m sorry so many sad things happened to you. It doesn’t mean that you are bad because you like boys. It doesn’t mean that you are bad because boys like you. And just because you and mom don’t agree on everything doesn’t mean she doesn’t love you. She Loves you, ok? But even if she didn’t, let’s imagine that she doesn’t, even if she doesn’t, it’s no reflection on you. You, my beautiful, are Golden, understand? You are Golden. Understand. We are grown-ups now and I am with you. And I give you permission to Love innocently again. I give you permission to trust again. I will find the people and the places to keep your innocence safe. I am wise now, my baby. I give you permission to share your Golden light with the world. I will protect you. I will keep you buoyed up. The world is not against us. I will keep uprooting all the lies until we can walk in truth and purity. I promise you, my baby. I will make a good life for us. We will forgive everything, even mom, so our hearts can breathe, and oh, my baby, we will open hearts along the way. Do you know how lucky the world is to have you? You are lucky. They are lucky. We are lucky. My baby, you are Golden. Understand…
Day 464
Eleven Years Old (And Golden)
hownottocryeveryday 