My Mother's Child

As a child growing up, I always aligned myself with my father more than my mother. Understand that I loved both of my parents dearly, and I still do. It was just a…thing for me. I didn’t see what I had in common with my mother. Why, you ask? My father was the logical thinker. Anything he did was based on a logical train of thought that led to a well thought out conclusion. Not so much with my mother. My mother was a creature of more than just habit. Passive aggressive by nature, she often let her emotions guide her thoughts, actions, and deeds.

I was telling a friend of mine just yesterday that growing up with parents that were significantly older than the average parental unit left me feeling older than I was for years. As a child growing up, I would often examine situations and scenarios with a certain air of adult thought processes that endeared me to my parents’ friends but alienated me from my peers. It is with that thought process that I would examine my mother’s behaviors and, subsequently, endear myself with my father. After all, despite how I felt about a situation, I knew how to tackle my emotions and learned how not to let said emotions affect my decision making process.

I don’t know when I evolved into my mother’s child.

Somewhere in my growth process, somewhere in the process of me “preparing for 30”, I have become my mother’s child. I have allowed my emotions on certain topics to make decisions for me – decisions that five years ago, I wouldn’t even have remotely considered. Your emotions, when they make decisions for you, are a dangerous thing. They have the power to make you ignore your moral compass…or to make impulsive decisions…or to even hold on to inappropriate thoughts and feelings. It was the very thing that I criticized my mother about constantly…the very thing that I have found myself, in recent years, doing.

I am my mother’s child. I am more of my mother’s child than I ever imagined. It is not something that I am proud of. Please do not misunderstand me. I LOVE my mother. And I am glad that I have aspects of her in me. Just not this aspect. Acting on emotions was never something that I ever wanted to do…and it’s something that I am working on fixing. Yes, I know…you can’t control how you feel…but I am damn sure gonna try.

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I'm a (Harmless) Flirt...Most Times

I was all set to put a quote here from R. Kelly's "I'm A Flirt". Was all set to come up with a whole bunch of witty sayings about how as a Sagittarius woman, one of our traits is the desire and need to roam and not be restrained.

Um...I changed my mind. Whaaat? I'm a Sag, sue me.

But I am a flirt. I always have been, it's in my nature. I'm not quite sure where I got it from or where I developed the habit. Sometimes, I flirt, even when I don't necessarily mean to. I'm a big fan of the *wink*. Ask any of my friends, they'll tell you. (Ok, so maybe you, the reader, don't know my friends enough to ask. But if you did/do...feel free.)

Some times...it gets me in trouble.

Other times...like this past week...it gets me in 'trouble'.

Yes, there is a difference between the two troubles.

I'm going to elaborate more on this later. Right now, however, I have some phone flirting to do with a certain driver who we may or may not discuss at a later time. *wink*

What is your most dominant personality trait?

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Am I Ready For Love?

"I'd quickly give my freedom/To be held in your captivity/I am ready for love/All of the joy and the pain/And all the time that it takes/Just to stay in your good grace"

India.Arie, "Ready For Love" 

I've always asked myself if I knew what it means to love someone. I mean, I thought I did. When I was with my daughter's father (a topic that I have yet to touch on and I doubt that I ever will, at least not on here), I thought I loved him. I know that I was willing to give quite a bit of myself to ensure that we were happy and secure in whatever or wherever we did. And I suppose that, in some small form, I did indeed, love him, in whatever I thought love was at that time. (So maybe I will touch on it, a little.) I know that at the time, what I thought was mature was far from it. We were two people, having great sex that we confused to be love fighting to be on the same wavelength, forcing square pegs into round holes. A beautiful child resulted from this Samson and Goliath fight - a child that I thank God for every day - and that is probably the only the good thing that came of that battle. 

Wait. I'm being unfair. That's not exactly true. The warrior scars that I received from that fight taught me many things. It taught me that my instincts are intense and powerful and that I should trust them. It taught me that when someone tells you who they are, believe them. It taught me that I need to be with a Caribbean man if I am ever to be with someone permanently. (I'm sorry, American/other men!) It taught me many things. The most important thing it taught me - part of the reason for this particular blog - is that I don't know what love truly is.

So to backpedal a little. This morning, headed to work, I hop on the train as usual, throw my Skull Candy in my ears, and open up my iPod on my phone to determine what I am going to sleep listen to on my way in. I had downloaded India.Arie's first album recently because I heard it in one of my good friend's cars and I figured it'd be a good addition to my ITunes. I knew that the song "Ready for Love" was on there, I had heard it before, and thought it was an intensely beautiful song. This morning, as usual, I fell asleep listened to music until about two stops before I had to get off. When I woke up, "Ready for Love" was playing. I debated skipping the song - it had a tendency to make me emotional and I wasn't really digging that - but I decided to let it rock for the moment. 

When I tell all yuh that it smacked me in the face this dreary morning...

I mean, it really hit me. Hard. I realized why it made me so emotional every time I heard it. It wasn't because I was ready and was just ready to soak up all this love. It was because I wasn't ready. I mean, really. I thought I was ready for everything that love had to offer.  But I'm not! I don't even think I know what love is. I'm very serious. If you take a moment to read/listen to the words to this song, you'll understand my sudden epiphany. I'm not even sure how to express how I feel about this. It's so odd. I'll be working this newest self discovery about me out in several forthcoming blogs. 

But now I ask you: what is love to you? Do you think that love is as intense and fulfilling as India.Arie puts it? When did you know that you were ready to love and be loved?

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Use Your Words

Scene: You're sitting in your room, stressing. Looking at the ceiling in your room. Wondering why you can't just call and say what's on your mind. You stare at your phone. You put it away. You stare at the ceiling again. Next thing you know...the thing you want most has passed you by and now you mad.

Curtain Call. It's over for that. It's 2010. 

I know that sometimes, saying what's on your mind, depending on what's on your mind, can be really difficult to do. Heck, I know first hand that as vocal as I can be, I have myself been guilty of holding my tongue, afraid to say what's on my heart, for fear of what the other person may or may not say. And I don't even just mean romantically. Think about it. Your friend's in a rough spot, and you know this. But you don't know what to say to them. You hold on to your thoughts because you don't want to get involved, afraid that they'll think you're meddling. Or being a hater. Or whatever. Pick a popular phrase and put it here. 

I've been dealing with a lot of personal growth for quite some time, but particularly since I started my locs. And what I've realized is this: life is too short to be holding on to the negative energy that you hold on to by not saying what's on your mind. This is, of course, not to say that you automatically get a 'tactless' pass: you do not earn the right to be a jerk by saying what's on your mind. You should, however, say what's on your mind. 

In days gone by, people would call this "manning up". I'm sure the implication here is that not saying your mind is a 'soft' or effeminate thing. Or whatever. Lemme just tell all yuh...I know plenty of male punks. So I think that phrase is played. Over with. Done. 

So I keep this like I try to keep most things that we as humans try to complicate: simple and to the point. Use your words. This is what I will be saying from now on to anyone that has an opinion, wants to tell someone that they love them, thinks that their friend is making a mistake, has a family member that ain't living right, whatever. Life's just too short. It really is. And let's keep it all the way 100: if you can't tell the people you care about what you're thinking or how you're feeling, then why are they your friend/ride or die/homie/fam?

In closing, ladies and gentlemen, use your words. Don't let them run like hamsters around in your head. Figure out the best way to say whatever it is you need to say, and use your words. 

Now. Run forth and frolic. That is all. *wink*

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Growing Pains

I lost a friend recently. It was painful.

You will recall me talking about getting into an argument with a good friend of mine, and questioning whether or not I made the right choice by bringing her into my inner circle. We got into it again recently and she made the decision to make her feelings known on two very popular social media forums, even going so far as to tag me in the posts, instead of talking to me and trying to get me to understand what she was thinking and/or going through. Obviously these are the very BASE details, but it got me to thinking heavily about who I am, what I do, and where my flaws lie. I'm very big into self exploration and introspection. It is safe to say that we are no longer friends. If I know nothing else about myself, I know that I do not tolerate ANYONE defaming my character, particularly when they are in a position to be an adult and have a discussion with me about whatever the problem is. It's unfortunate too. Up until that point, I really cared. *shrugs*.

Growing up is a painful, PAINFUL process that sometimes involves making decisions that you may not want to make, and doing things that you may or may not want to actually do. It involves being the bigger person when all of your instincts (and sometimes, other people) scream that you are not wrong, that you are being wronged (and sometimes, the reverse). It sometimes means that the people with whom you are the closest; the people who you think understand you the most; are also the ones that you have to watch the closest; for they have the power to do the most damage. Sometimes...it means swallowing your pride and confronting your feelings, even when you feel like being the punk of the century. Growing up is not always fun...shedding your outer skin for fresh skin sometimes leaves you feeling vulnerable...and even a little lost.

Of course, with fresh skin comes a certain glow and a new start on this thing we call life. Sure, right now, when the wound is still fresh, you feel a bit raw and exposed - for me, I know that there were things that I was able to share with this person that I never had to explain to others - they just seemed to get it. However...anytime someone will go so far as to accuse you of being 'envious' and of 'stealing their dream' - particularly when they themselves walked away from it, or when their biggest obstacle to success was them - is not someone that you can help...not, at least, until they help themselves. The point is that growing up may hurt at first...but you always emerge stronger as a result.

Have you ever encountered a painful 'growing up' experience, either in your present or in your past? How did you let it shape who you currently are?

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Viva La Arrogant Pipe!!

One of the wonderful things about my good friends is that they are just as crazy and mad as I am. It is this quality that endears me to them, that makes me smile when I am not in the mood, that causes me to come close to spitting my gum/juice/sandwich across the room if I am reading what they are saying while imbibing any of those things. More often than not, my sides are aching from laughing so hard after dealing with them.

Yesterday, of course, was no exception.

We were talking about 'getting some', and our choice of partners. Now. In this day and age, women tend to have a much more liberal approach to these sorts of encounters. If you remember my post on the 12 noon relationship versus the 4 am relationship, you will remember that I point out that there is a difference between these two types of relationships, and that both are healthy - so long as you know what you're getting yourself into either way.

So yesterday, we joked about past and/or present 4 am relationships and how we as independent women handled ourselves and our...er...needs. My friend, fool that she is, came up with the phrase, "Viva La Arrogant Pipe!" She, of course, was teasing me about my choice of an arrogant...err...12/4 am relationship. (Yea, I don't know. Sue me.)

The moral of this, or, rather, the thing currently on my mind, is, how much do we tolerate when dealing with someone we are interested in? Does sex genuinely put 'rose colored glasses' on a person's flaws? Is it that in some cases, people on the outside looking in cannot see past that person's flaws? Moreover, does it even matter if it's just a 4 am relationship?

Thoughts and ramblings...think, discuss...

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Torn

Disclaimer: This piece is prose of poetic fiction. Any resemblances to current people is entirely coincidental.


What happens when you feel it in your gut so strong
Unexplainable desires and wanton lust for the mind
Bodily desires cast aside, you want to be one and the same
with his brain

His words blow your mind 65 times infinity plus 4

Always leave you wanting more
But you know this bad habit is more than a song
Everyone's told you it's wrong
This type of thing you've fell victim to for too long

So what does one do?

When the waking moment desire is only to open your eyes by his side
And cast away all insecurities to take over the world together
Your heart on his sleeve to be caressed yet your mind continues to be that rolling stone
let's not forget that this feeling is wrong

How do you stop being torn?

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