My Crush Groove

So I’m in a very different space right now.  As I shared on Friday, I have found myself face to face with a man whom I am actually attracted to.  And not just the Oh My This Man is Fine! attraction.  I would actually like to get to know him better.  It has actually taken me by surprise because I have not been looking for it, AND it doesn’t happen to me often.  It’s even more of a shock because it puts me in unchartered territory.  This is the first man I like who I am not finding by default or rebound.  I have been a serial monogamist throughout my life.  As I’ve said, I don’t fall often, but when I do, I tend to move straight into exclusive relationship status and remain there for years.  Each relationship has developed out of my need for validation and recovery from a previous one.  Yet here I am, 34 and experiencing my first non-rebound crush.  And I haven’t even bothered to act on it because right now that isn’t even important to me.  I still think there are some things I need to work on before I involve myself in a relationship.  Thankfully, I am in a place where I am much more aware of myself. 

Experiencing this crush has made me even more aware of myself, more specifically, how I have approached relationships and how I have viewed myself.  I still have some deficits in the area of self-esteem.  As I shared on Friday, I have never been good at seeing the good I have to offer.  I tend to see what I need to work on, what I haven’t done, and what I am not.  I have been doing much better with this issue, then I found myself crushing on Mr. Mister, and all of those self-deprecating thoughts began to surface.  First I started with the Why would he want me? questions.  In my mind, this man can have probably any woman he wants.  The thought that he could actually want me is one I hadn’t allowed myself to vision.  Logically, I am well aware that this is just some frackernackle bull, but my ego still likes to pose this question to me—mainly because my ego is sooo resistant to change and these are the questions I entertained for such a long time.  I even began to have the body issues again.  Now I’m well aware that most people tend to look at their bodies and see imperfections.  However, I was always a bit more extreme.  I never liked my body. It was never good enough for me.  It was too skinny, not nearly curvy enough, too tall, not tall enough.  And then it became too big, curvy, but not curvy in the right places, and just downright unacceptable.  After the birth of my daughter, I became extremely despondent as far as my body was concerned.  I hated the stretch marks that appeared and I did get that c-section pooch.  At that point, all I wanted was the body I spent all of that time hating.  I went through a terrible bout of post partum depression, and even though I was back to my pre-pregnancy weight by my 6-week checkup, I had gained back all my pregnancy weight by the time my daughter was 1 year old (in spite of all my exercise).  After my divorce, my weight came down and I was able to get to a place of appreciation of my body.  My stretch marks are not really that bad and my pooch isn't a pooch anymore.  Actually, when I show my stomach to others and complain, they give me the pat.  You know the pat.  The  pity ridden Oh this poor delusional thing pat that people give you on you thigh, shoulder or back when they feel like you have not even an ounce of common sense.  But that aside, I was able to get to a place where I felt like I looked pretty damn good for a woman who’s given birth, and who was by no means a bounce back chick (You know, Beyonce ‘nem)!  However, upon finding myself in this new crush groove, my ego started firing those body shots. Who would want to look at that, Ugh look at your stomach! ?!

Now I'm well aware that these are completely unhealthy and dangerous thoughts to have.  And this is why it's so great that I’m in this new space because now I don’t actually believe my ego.  However, I have noticed that I do entertain my ego a little longer than I have been recently.  This is all telling me that I’m not quite ready to be in relations with a man on that level.  For me, my relationships have always been my source of validation.  I made each man I partnered with responsible for my entire sense of self-worth.  If he chose me, I was worthy and better than other women.  I was now loveable, attractive, and great.  If he was unfaithful (which they all were), that meant I wasn’t good enough; I was lacking in some area(s).  Yet, I would stay in a quest to get proof that I was worth more.  And when that proof wasn’t delivered to me, I would end the relationship and begin anew with someone else almost immediately, now making it this man’s turn to build me up.  It was a vicious cycle that only eroded my self esteem even more.  What I have since learned is that because I was in that frame of mind, I sent out the type of energy that only attracted men who would not value me. They couldn’t because I didn’t value myself.  I placed a terrible burden upon those men, and I betrayed myself in the process. What I know today is that I am the only one who can build or tear myself down.  I don’t want to make another human being responsible for my self worth. And let’s face it, that mere mortal would fail anyway. 

I’d like to believe that I am different now.  I know better, so I will do better.  I’m not looking for a savior anymore.  Now I’m looking for something else and since I’m now different, I expect that.  However, upon recognizing these monstrous thoughts that have been creeping up, I am seeing that I'm not quite as different as I'd like to be.  I still have some work to do and I'm ok with that.  So I say that all to say that while I do feel I was caught totally off guard by my new crush, I’m actually quite thankful for it.  It has brought things I need front and center.  If nothing ever transpired between he and I, I’ll forever be thankful to him because he’s already helped to make me a better person.  

Mirror, Mirror on the Wall . . . What the Hell Am I Seeing?!

Happy, Happy Friday! I'm baaack!!  I have been unable to post any of my Happy Friday v-logs lately due to some kind of glitch with Blogger, but thankfully, it has been vanquished.  So here I'm is, back on display.  Now this is an older one I recorded a while ago so you can't see my new do or nothing on this one, but it's still me. 

Any ole way . . . this post has been a prevalent issue in my life lately.  It's all about acknowledgment.  Acknowledging who we are and all the good there is to us.  I know for many of us, we are taught how to not see ourselves clearly.  When we were young, we weren't taught to love ourselves, praise ourselves, celebrate ourselves.  We were taught it's selfish to do that.  But let us do something "wrong" and oh we were taught to make sure the world stopped so that everyone could know what we did.  And that just taught us to treat ourselves the same way.  But for me, it's been a constant struggle.  I have a huge tendency to see myself in the lack category.  I don't see all the accomplishments I have under my belt, all the good things about me.  I tend to see all that I am not, and could be (but not quite yet).  It's a terrible habit I'm working oh so hard to break, and every day, I encounter someone or some situation that brings my attention to it.  Most recently, I have found myself attracted to a man.  *Gasp!*  I know, it's been almost 4 years since one has been able to turn my eye and yet here it is.  And there are some things I want to do differently this time around.  (I'll post more about this in detail on Monday). But knowing that, I know that means I can't go forward doing the same thing.  I attracted men who didn't acknowledge all of my greatness because I wasn't acknowledging it.  And I don't want that anymore.  It doesn't serve me at all now.

But again, any ole' way, that's not entirely the point.  That was just one example.  This thing here is for me and all about me (as it should be).  There are other examples of how this issue has been showing up in my life, but that one just caught me most off guard.  So what about you?  Do you have problems acknowledging your good?  Do you see yourself for who you really are?  Or do you just acknowledge your shortcomings like so many others?  If so, I challenge you to take a good hard look at yourself in the mirror and start to see the good that I bet so many others already see.  Now go out and enjoy your weekend!

We are People, But Who Taught Us How to Be?

*So I went to Oprah's Lifeclass on Monday and got some deliciously wonderful nuggets of wisdom from it!  I'm going to write a post about each nugget.  However, I won't go into great details about the show so as not to spoil it for anyone who wants to watch the episode when it airs*

I had a fantastic time attending the live taping of Oprah’s Lifeclass with both Oprah and Iyanla Vanzant at Harpo Studios!  It was such an amazing experience.  Both of these women are so full of love and wisdom, and they both have an amazing gift of being present with people when they speak.  It was just a joy to be a present and watch them do what they do so well.  The topic of the show was Family Secrets.  There were so many courageous guests who opened themselves to share with the world their secrets and the effects on their lives.  Both Oprah and Iyanla listened intently, and gracefully shared their wisdom.  And there was so much wisdom.  I forgot to take pictures because I was so busy typing everything they were saying! 

At one point during the show, after speaking with one of the guests, Iyanla said something that made so much sense to me.  She said:  We are people.  Before we are anything else, we are people.  But nobody teaches us how to be just people.  We’re simply taught how to act in public.  We’re taught how to be lawyers, doctors, polite, basically everything but people.  And you know what?  I think she’s right.  When I think about my own upbringing, I was talked at quite a bit about proper behavior--how and what to do, the appropriate times to do such things, and especially about what not to do--but rarely was I talked with about my feelings, who I was, and who I wanted to be.  My dad tried his best to get me to see life as such, but his approach greatly diminished his efforts.  But Iyanla’s statement made sense to me because before we are anything else, we are people.  We are human beings, no human doings.  Yet we get so wrapped up in the doing that it interferes with our entire being.  I firmly believe that we are born with all the knowledge that we need to navigate through life.  As we age (notice I didn’t say grow), we are conditioned so that we forget all that we know and then; only if we recognize our faulty conditioning; do we then begin the process of reconditioning ourselves.  The conditioning we receive usually seems to come from a place of how who and where we currently are not good enough.  And I think this is where that disconnect occurs for the human race.  We are constantly in search of things to make us better and good enough so that we can be acceptable, failing to realize that we must first accept ourselves.

I see this mindset playing out with my ex husband.  He came over the other day to discuss his concerns with our daughter.  Now one of the issues that I take with him is that very rarely, if ever, does he want to speak with me about what he sees are good things in our child.  It’s usually about how she is lacking in some area.  I have watched my daughter and gotten to know her as she is and decided it is best that she attend a Montessori school.  The first school she was sent to didn’t suit her at all, so she was transferred to another one.  This particular school and the teacher have helped her tremendously.  The teacher really understands her and that is extremely important for my daughter.  She is highly emotional.  Everything she does stem from her emotional state.  However, I don’t think her father understands that.  He would prefer that she attend Kindergarten at a public school and I don’t think she’s quite ready.  Her teacher has shared the same sentiment.  My belief is that at this time, our daughter is not emotionally mature enough to attend public school where she will have to contend in a class with at least 25 other children, and the teacher would not be able to contend with her.  His stance is that he doesn’t feel that the current school will prepare her for, and I do quote, “the rigors of first grade”.  When I asked him what he was expecting of her as she is going to Kindergarten, he stated, (and again I quote) “She should be killing the game.”  Now I’m not really sure what that means, and since I didn’t get any explanation from him as to what that means, I’m left to infer.  In my opinion, he has some rather high and unrealistic expectations of our 5 year-old.  When I stated that she has learned arithmetic, geography, the solar system, reading and writing at the school, as well as achieved help with her social interactions, his response is that those are the things that we have helped her learn so she should know them.    

Now this is where the disconnect exists between he and I.  He has always been one who values intellect, status, and appearances, whereas I have always been one who doesn’t really care about those things.  He values having degrees, and titles.  I think that having degrees are great accomplishments (Hell, I have 2), but they don’t’ tell me anything about you as a person, and I’m much more interested in who you are.   And I’m not saying either one of us are right or wrong.  It’s just who we are.  I work very hard to respect his opinion  (and I do work hard at it because I know my personal feelings), I know that ultimately, I have to look past both he and I and focus on our daughter.  I definitely don’t want my daughter to grow up feeling as if she has to constantly do and achieve to finally be “Somebody”.  As our discussion grew increasingly heated, Iyanla’s words echoed in my ears.  I thought this is exactly what she was talking about!  While I fully trust and believe that his intentions are coming from a place of love, I also believe that he is operating from his own personal space of lack of good enough-ness.  In my ex’s mind, our daughter will only be great if she is better than everyone (even at the tender age of 5) because that is the same way he views himself.  His rationale is that she should be ahead of everyone because she will be 6 in October.  In his quest to want the best for her, he’s failing to see her as she is today and meet her where she is.   This in turn, makes it impossible for him to encourage her to be who she is.  In his defense, his parents probably taught him the very same way, so it’s what he knows.  I think most of us were taught this way.  Whether it was to achieve or not to achieve, we were taught to be what others deemed for us instead of the very beings we are.   I was just having this conversation with someone a few weeks ago.  There is a tremendous amount of pressure put upon children today that I don’t believe previous generations had to endure.  I was allowed to be a child. Play was deemed important for me.  Actually, I was the only kid I know who got in trouble for opting to stay in the house and read instead of going outside to play.  My dad frequently admonished me to remember to play and have fun.  He told me being smart was great, but being able to laugh at myself was even better.  He said if I focused on the fact that I was smart above all else, I would become disappointed because eventually, I’d meet someone smarter than.  If I hinged my entire self worth on my smarts, I’d naturally deem I was no longer good enough.   Man, he was really a wise man!  I wish his methodology had been better.  But I digress. 

Anyway, I think it’s so important for us to take a step back and ask ourselves, what are we here for?  I think we spend a lot of time on the doing, achieving of life only to get to the end and realize it wasn’t really that important.  When my dad died, I didn’t care that he achieved becoming the King of Comedy.  I didn't care about all the money he earned.  I cared that I had no more laughter with him, no more hugs, no more time to watch him play with my daughter.  I’m pretty sure no one gets to the end of their life and wishes they’d scored higher on that standardized test, or gotten a higher GPA, worked more over time on their job, made more money, bought more designer clothing, or any of the other so called things we do to make us believe we are good enough.  We are people.  That’s it and that’s all.  And honestly, we don’t need to be anything more.  But then again, who am I, save for a mere person?

Just a Few Questions

*So I wrote this blog on Sunday to post on yesterday. But in my haste and excitement, I forgot to post it. Since I'm working on my post about my Oprah's Lifeclass experience now, I'll just let you read this one today*

I am so super duper excited! This is turning out to be an excellent week already!  Yesterday, I went to one of my favorite metaphysical stores and had my aura photographed.  It was such a cool experience.  You place your hand on a measuring device and that device reads you.  The reading device is hooked up to a computer and it is able to show you your entire aura—chakras, and all.  It was such an interesting experience, and I learned a lot.  I’m looking forward to doing some more work and going back in a few months to see the difference.  Now today I’m on my way to Harpo studios to attend a live taping of Oprah’s Lifeclass!  I am expecting to walk away a changed woman, meaning I will learn something new, gain a new perspective, release some stuff, meet some new folks, and just have a grand ole time!  I can’t wait. 

So since I’m so excited, I don’t really have anything pressing on my mind.  I haven’t really been over thinking lately, as I’ve been too busy staying present in the moment and enjoying myself.  However, there are just some things that always stay on my mind.  As Arsenio Hall used to say, there are just some things that make me go hmmm….  I don’t really have an answer to them, some of them are things that make my ass itch, others are just casual observations, and some of them are just the result of me over thinking a wee bit too much.  But here’s a list of questions that swirl around my mind from time to time.

1.     Why are people so threatened/afraid/hurt by the truth?

2.     Why do people love comparing everything? (Who’s the best singer? Who’s prettier?  Who’s the richest?  Why can’t you be like____?)

3.     Why do people fear falling in every instance, except in love? Falling is considered to be a thing to avoid, except in Love. Why do you want to fall in love? Don’t you just want to consciously choose to walk into it?

4.     In the movies, why are the bottoms of white people’s feet so damn dirty? (that has bothered me for quite a while)

5.     Who decided that green would be the color of envy?

6.     Why do men like sending pictures of their peen to women they barely know?

7.     Why is it so easy for people to mistreat the ones who truly love them?

8.     How is it that some women still believe a baby will keep a man?

9.     In the movie Friday, why did Craig and Smokey scramble for $200?  Smokey had $100 so all they needed was another $100.  And while I’m at it, why didn’t Craig have any money?  He’d just gotten his paycheck the day before, and he lived with his parents, didn’t appear to have a vehicle, so what bills did he have?  (I know I was over thinking on that one, but that’s bothered me since I first saw it.  If I ever meet DJ Pooh or Ice Cube, I’m asking that one)

10. Speaking of movies, whatever happened to Bobby, who was the original lead singer of the Five Heartbeats? (First thing I’ll ask Robert Townsend if/when I meet him)

11. Why does fear seem to be a stronger motivator than Love?

12. Why isn’t common sense so common?

13. In Scooby Doo, why were Shaggy and Scooby always so scared?  Seriously, they solved a mystery every episode and saw that it was always a mere mortal just trying to scare people so why were they always acting as if they didn’t know this?  (Yeah, that one is another over thinker!)

14. Why is it so hard for people to simply agree to disagree?

15. Why do hurt people hurt people?  I mean, if you know what it feels like, why do you want to inflict that pain on someone else?

16. In Love Jones, how could Nina possibly think it was a good idea to go out with Darius’ friend, Wood?  Seriously, when is it ever a good idea to go out with your man’s friend?

17. Why is it so damn funny to witness someone falling?

18. Will people ever realize that it doesn’t really take that much to be happy?

19. Why don’t some family members of the contestants on American Idol tell these people that they can’t sing?

20. Why do people love to act as if they can speak for God by telling you what God likes/doesn't like?  And why do they feel the need to say what the Bible says when they know good and well that they haven't cracked that book open and if they have, they haven't bothered to actually study it (and by study I mean to take into account language and cultural implications)?  

21. And why, why, why won’t these boys pull their pants up?!  How is it even comfortable to walk with your pants at your knees?!  Seriously!!

So there you have it.  These are just some of the thoughts that swirl around my mind from time to time.  And please understand that when I say people I am not speaking of everyone.  I just mean the folks it applies to.  So as my Daddy used to say, "If it don't apply, let it fly."  If you have any theories or answers, feel free to share them. I’d actually quite enjoy that.  And do you have any random questions that swirl around your mind from time to time.  If so, what are they?  Inquiring minds wouldn’t mind knowing at all.  I’ll let you know about my Lifeclass experience tomorrow. 

Guess This Means I'm a Daddy's Girl

Time really waits for no man.  I’ve experienced a few moments in my life where it felt as if time stood still.  I’ve even lived in a way where I was simply being still. But the thing is, time kept on ticking.  Today is a day that lets me know just how true that is.  Today is the fourth year anniversary of my dad’s death.  I can hardly believe it’s been four years.  Depending on the perspective, four years can seem like a long time or a mere passing phase.  For me, these four years seems like an eternity.  My secret fear has been living in this world without my dad longer than I lived with him.  I guess when I’m 61; I’ll be able to know what that feels like.  I imagine that I will probably feel as I do today.  While I’m grateful for all the years, the lessons, the laughs, the fights, the memories, and all the moments I had with him, I miss my Dad terribly.  There are days where I feel so overwhelmed and all I want is to hear his voice telling me what to do.  And I want that even though I know that when he was here, I wouldn’t have dared “burdened” him with my troubles, and it would have chapped my ever loving hide to have him tell me what to do anyway.  But now those are the things I miss.

When I was 21, my dad and I were really in a combative phase.  If he said left, I was going right.  If he said dip, I slid.  I just wanted to prove him wrong.  We had a huge blowup one day when he came to New Orleans for the Kings of Comedy Tour.  I was livid and I laid into him like I never had before.  All the fear I once had was replaced with anger and I let it loose.  After I was done, I felt fine and I didn’t hesitate to tell him that I was now done with the issue and to go have a great show.  I walked away and an instant later I realized that I was so much like him.  Talk about an epiphany!  But I didn’t like it one bit.  I made it my mission to prove just how unlike him I could be, and I epically failed.  It wasn’t until he passed that I truly made peace with how alike we were.  I recognize that fighting against who I was made my journey more difficult than it possibly could have been had I just accepted myself.  But that’s what we’re here for.  We live and we learn. 

There are so many things I miss about my dad.  Even though I’m in a space where I can smile more than I cry, I miss him everyday.   I miss his smile.  I miss his laughter.  I miss his eyes.  I miss his hands.  Our hands are the same.  It still can be difficult to look into a mirror because when I look, all I see is my dad.  I wonder how my daughter would be if he were here.  She’s so much like him.  That strong masculine energy just radiates from within.  Whenever she says something that has me speechless or in fits of laughter, he’s the first person I want to call.  But I can’t.  So I just talk aloud to him as if he’s here.  Most days it’s comforting.  But on today, it’s just not enough. 

I remember feeling so alone when my dad died.  There was no one who I felt understood my pain or even cared for that matter.  It was very hard for me because of all the people that were around who claimed to love my dad, very few of them even asked me if I was ok—my own mother didn’t bother to comfort me.  I took that really hard.  My thinking was how can you claim to have loved him, and here I am, his flesh and blood, his heart, and for that matter his legacy, and you just ignore me.  Like I said, I took it way personally.  Today I am in a different space.  I hold no ill feelings toward anyone.  I recognize that grief hits people in different ways.  I’m not sure if it was just too hard (or maybe still is) for most to be near me because seeing me is a reminder of him.  Or maybe it’s because I’m so much like him they assume that I’m fine.  Whatever it is, we’re all human, and everybody was navigating through grief’s murky waters just trying to come out with some sense of normalcy. 

I went through a terrible depression.  I didn’t want to live.  I had a suicide plan.  My first plan was to go to the basement in my parent’s home, grab one of his guns and just blow my brains out.  I came close one night.  I was in the basement crying and I walked into the room where his guns were, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.  I thought that would be cruel to have my mother find me that way.  So my next plan was to take my daughter to daycare, and just drive onto Interstate 57 and drive onto the Southbound traffic (which would be driving opposite me) and just get taken out by how ever many drivers would get to me.  I almost did that one too.  But as soon as I got on, I thought of Jasmine so I just kept driving.  After that I simply prayed for death.  I would wake up feeling so defeated that I actually was able to wake up.  Besides my daughter, I couldn’t find one thing about life to bring comfort or gratitude. 

For a while I was angry.  I was angry with God.  How could you take my father away at a time like this?  (As if there is really a “good” time for death to strike).  I was especially angry as old people.  Upon seeing an older gentleman with his family, I’d be immediately pissed off.  My first thoughts were why does this old bastard get to live and my dad didn’t?  I was mad at some relatives too.  I felt like they were useless so I questioned why were they allowed to stay here while my dad wasn’t.  I was angry with grandfathers.  Why did my baby have to grow up without hers?  It wasn’t fair and I was madder than any analogy I could ever come up with about it. 

It’s said that time heals all wounds and I realize today that it isn’t true.  What you do in that time leads to healing.  I could be stuck in that very space.  I could still be angry, depressed and suffering.  I could still be in a place where I couldn’t recognize the blessing I experienced by having my dad for 30 years.  I could have carried out my suicide plan and my daughter could be motherless. But I didn’t.  And I can’t take the credit for it.  God had something else in mind.  Even though the people I expected to support me didn’t, He/She sent other people.  My friends rallied around me.   My daughter was my motivation to keep going.   I found a wonderful counselor who helped me through my grief.  I even met some new friends who have shown me love and acceptance, as I never knew before. It was not all for naught.  It was for a reason.  I am blessed by all of it.  And even though some things change, some things remain the same.  My dad is still my compass.  I still look to him to get me through things.  How could I not?  He started the theme song to my life.  The song may not be the same, but the melody plays in harmony with his.   And I still hope and pray for the same thing when he sees me.  I pray that I make you proud Daddy because I’m so proud of you.

Tsk, Tsk, Tsk . . . The Guilt Syndrome

 The difference between guilt and shame is very clear—in theory. We feel guilty for what we do. We feel shame for what we are.

~Lewis B. Smedes

I can’t believe that it’s already August!  It feels like I was just ringing in the New Year, and now I’m prepping to get things ready for my baby’s first day of Kindergarten.  Wow!  That means 2013 is not far behind.  And while I’m not trying to get far ahead of myself (or you guys for that matter), I do want to keep that in mind.  I’ve never been a person to focus on New Year resolutions, or wait until the 1^st of the month to begin a new routine.  I am a firm believer in the present.  There is no better time than the present to start something new, change your mind, learn something new, or whatever it is that you wish to do.  You can start at this exact moment.  So in my mind that means that it’s a perfect time to ditch the people, things, ideas, baggage, etc. that no longer serve you, and guilt is one such thing.  I’m constantly meeting, seeing, hearing, or talking to people who are saddled with guilt and it really saddens me.  Guilt is such a toxic emotion.  It’s toxic and it’s a waste. 

Someone I know was telling me about a close loved one who warned her about firsts, so that when she gets married, things will be “special” because there will be firsts she shares with her husband.  This lovely woman had a lot of guilt about getting married because she felt like there was no reason her now husband should want to marry her.  She had children, so clearly she wasn’t a virgin and she wouldn’t be able to share in having her first child with her husband.  And I should mention that the husband did not share in this belief.  I was so saddened upon hearing that.  I don’t know the woman personally, but I’ve heard nothing but wonderful things about her and to think that she was saddled with so much guilt instead of pure joy at the fact that she’d found a good, loving man who loved her and her children just brought my spirit down.  I’ve been told she has since been relieved of her guilt. But I’m saddened by all the time she spent feeling guilty instead of enjoying the happiness that she deserved.

That’s how guilt operates.  It leaves you unable to see any good or redeeming qualities in yourself.  It leaves you feeling undeserving of good things.  You feel like you should be punished, as if others should hate you.  When you are overcome with guilt, you are not able to receive the goodness that Life wants to bring you.  And no one has to punish you because you’re punishing yourself.  And it’s such a waste because the simple thing to do is forgive yourself for whatever infraction you feel you’ve caused.  When you’re in guilt mode, you don’t understand how simple it is to admit your offense, forgive yourself, and move forward.  And I’m stressing forgiving yourself because we’re really the only ones with the power to relieve ourselves of guilt.  If I wrong another, I can apologize and truly want their forgiveness, but should they choose to withhold forgiveness, that can leave me stuck and powerless because I’ve essentially given them power.  But if I forgive myself, I can be remorseful and wish for their forgiveness without hinging my entire self worth on someone else.  The thing about it is, there is no true rhyme or reason for guilt.  It doesn’t even matter what the offense is.  Some people feel guilty over choices they’ve made.  Some people feel guilty over choices others have made (like a parent feeling guilt over their child's actions).  Some people feel guilty for being a victim of some one else.  You can feel guilty over something that happened years ago, or something that hasn’t even happened yet.  Some feel guilty over their thoughts.  Guilt makes you think you’re a monster when guilt is really the monster that robs you of joy—and deserved joy at that because that’s really what we’re here for.

I know a little something about guilt.  When I was 16, I lost my virginity.  And I didn’t lose it because I wanted to.  I just failed to speak up and say I didn’t want to have sex.  Shortly after, I became pregnant.  I opted to have an abortion, but I never told my parents.  A few days after my abortion, my mother found my envelope of pills I was given to aid in my recovery. She’s a nurse so she knew full well what they were.  Instead of telling the truth, I lied and said they belonged to my then best friend.  I cannot tell you how much grief I felt!  I felt guilt because I was first a fornicator, AND THEN I had the nerve to become an unwed, pregnant teenager.  THEN I committed murder by killing my baby, AND cowardly lied and put the entire offense against my best friend.  I was unable to sleep for months.  When I did, I had the same dreams; it was the end of the world, Jesus condemned me to hell and I burned.  I confessed to my best friend who immediately forgave me.  She was more hurt that I didn’t tell her and endured the whole thing alone.  But I never told my parents.  I couldn’t’ bring myself to do that.  Instead, I told myself that I should just be punished.  So I sought out relationships with men who treated me terribly because I didn’t believe I was worthy of anything more.  I didn’t even believe that I deserved to become a mother.  I secretly thought I would never be able to bear children again.  I didn’t forgive myself until I was 27 years old.  I carried that burden around for over 10 years.  And the release of the guilt brought forth a lightness that I hadn’t even realized existed!  I even became pregnant with my healthy baby girl a year later.  Now that I think of it, I really think that was the beginning of the end of my marriage.  Once I forgave myself and released that guilt, I started thinking that perhaps I did deserve to be treated better than I had been by husband.  His behavior was no longer passable for me.  I couldn’t keep making excuses for him.  I now know it was because I was learning to forgive and love myself and stop punishing myself.  It took me over 10 years to get that and I really hope it doesn’t take any one else that long.  Then I fell in danger of having guilt over having taken so long to release that guilt.  But I caught myself before I fell into another 10-year trap. 

I now understand that there are no “good” or “bad” choices; there are only choices.  Each choice comes with a lesson, and it is up to us to learn the lesson and move forward.  But we human beings are unlike other creatures in that we believe in punishment.  I’m so glad I was able to forgive myself and I hope that others are able to do the same.

No Woman is Her Hair . . . Why Haven't We Learned That Yet?

Here is a beautiful young woman, who just happened to win the Gold for Team USA, and all that some people can talk about is her hair?! And what exactly is the problem with it? Wait, don't answer that. . . .

*I wrote this piece about a month ago, but just didn’t feel it fit in with my mood, so I decided to archive it until the spirit moved me to share. Now in light of all the debate over USA Gold winner Gabby Douglas’ (Man that felt good to write!) hair, I thought it was fitting to share this one today.*

So ok, here’s a fun fact about me  . . .  I am not one of those women who get the big fuss over our hair.  I just don’t.  Don’t get me wrong, I do like for my hair to be healthy and I like for it to look good.  But all that other stuff?  Short vs. Long, Relaxed vs. Natural, Colored vs. Non Colored, weaves vs. no weaves,  who the heck cares AND actually has the time to really pay attention—much less bicker over it all?!  I certainly don’t.  Here’s another fun fact, which probably isn’t any news to you if you’ve been following my Happy Friday v-logs.  I’m now a natural haired brown skinned girl.  And I’ll be honest.  I didn’t make the decision out of some huge rebellious revolt.  I’m not sticking it to the man, or to black men, or to anyone.  I actually had a short haircut back in 2006 (I do love my fierce short cuts), found out I was preggers in February, ended up having to travel with my dad so I opted for braids.  I got so lazy about it that I kept braids for the duration of my pregnancy.  Once my daughter was born in October, I grew tired of the braids so I took them out.  Upon seeing how my hair had grown, the thought occurred to me to see what it would be like to have natural hair, but I went against it and put the relaxer back in.  I kept my hair relaxed for the next three years.  In 2008, after filing for divorce, I did what most of us gals do when we break up with a man; I cut my hair.  But in my defense, it wasn’t a rebellious revolt against my ex husband.  My hair was so damaged from all the stress I had been going through that it was just best to cut it.  Two years later, in 2010, I decided I wanted to grow my hair out, but this time, I didn’t think I wanted to go the relaxer route.  I just figured I’d grow it out and see what it would be like to be au naturale.  So I wore protective styles (braids, sew ins, ponytails) until today to grow out my hair. 

So here it is, 2012, and my hair is pretty close to shoulder length, but man shrinkage is real in these streets yo! I just happen to like my hair right now.  I’m still learning about my hair in its natural state and what products work best on it.  Thank goodness there are so many blogs, you tube tutorials, and knowledgeable hair stylists to help me in my journey. But on a side note, can we get some sisters with hair like mine to do some videos?!  All the lovely women I’ve seen are great,but my hair just won’t do what theirs will.  Where are the chicks with the fight for your right hair like me?  Anway, end of side note.   But even with all of that, I’m gonna admit that I’m not, nor do I ever intend to spend a crazy amount of time on my hair.  Reading some of the blogs can overwhelm you and I just did not go natural to spend all day doing my natural hair.  And I must say again, this was not some rebellious act on my part.  I was just curious so I went ahead and gave it a try.  So forgive me if I’m breaking some Sister girl code of conduct when I say I just don’t get the big deal about it all!  I mean there is some serious hostility out there between the naturals vs. the relaxed, hell even within the natural community.  There is debate over what actually constitutes natural.  Seriously, it’s just hair.  If you cut it, it will grow.  This thing women have about their hair just befuddles my mind.  I don’t get it.  I think it’s because I grew up with a mother who didn’t care about hair like that.  Thank Goodness for my mama cause I didn’t get the memo for the hair issues.  My mom would grow her hair out just to cut it short, color it, rod it, crimp it, hell she even tried the Wave Nouveau (don’t ask her about that one though).  Since I didn’t see a woman have issues with her hair, I didn’t grow up with any.  But it’s a fool!  And don’t’ even start trying to get the brothers to weigh in on it. 

I remember the first time I cut my hair.  I was a freshman in college.  I came home on my winter break and told my hair stylist to cut my then past shoulder length hair into a cute short cut. The result was a knock off of Halle Berry’s famous short cut a la Strictly Business.  It was hot as a biscuit baker in New Orleans and my hair is thick, and the combination just was not working, so I made an executive decision.  I loved it.  It was cute and sexy and I felt great.  However, I remember receiving a lot of backlash—and oddly enough it came from women.  I had one of my aunts tell me “Je’Niece for us women our hair is our crown and glory and I just don’t like you hair short.”  Now that I think back on myself, I’ve always been a bit of a rebel because just like today, I didn’t care then.  My response was “Well good for the both of us that it’s my hair and not yours.”  And I wasn’t being a smart ass for the sake of being one.  I was speaking honestly.  Seriously, how narcissistic do you have to be to actually believe that your opinion of a woman’s hair should hold any weight with her?  If you like your hair long, then by all means, wear your hair long. But don’t for one second think that because you like to wear your hair long that it somehow means that every other woman on the earth should wear hers the same.  Same goes for the natural look.  And can the natural community please stop bickering about what constitutes natural and whether a natural haired woman should straighten her hair or not?!  I mean it’s madness.  When my hair was short, I even had some women tell me “Don’t no man want no woman with short hair.” Thank God for all of us that they weren’t men and they couldn’t speak for them. 

And as if that wasn’t enough, men feel the need to weigh in on our hair.  I remember my father giving me grief any time I changed my hairstyle.  He had a fit when I got it wrapped.  My response to him would usually be something along these lines:  “I’m sorry I’m not a man and I don’t have the privilege of wearing a fade that will be stylish for decades to come.  You should blame yourself for that Y chromosome not swimming fast enough.”  Yeah I said it.  And I mostly meant it.  If you can tell, I’m not one who likes others to try to infringe upon my free will.  I get that men have preferences, but I don’t think anyone—not even a woman’s husband—has any right to tell her how to wear her hair. 

But I recognize that I am biased.  I just don’t get the huge fuss over something as seemingly trivial as hair.  The lengths (pun intended) women go through for hair just seems crazy to me.  The emotional opinions that spark these heated debates and sometimes arguments, the make or break me relationship some women have with their hair just seems so over the top to me.  Yes sometimes on a bad hair day I can feel totally paper bag over head worthy, but it’s just a pity feeling.  I do what I need to and I keep moving.  If my hair dresser gives me a hair cut instead of clipping my ends like I asked, I get thankful for the healthy ends which will lead to healthier hair and just wait for it to grow back.  But like I said, I just don’t get it.  I totally understand that it can and is different for others.  So what say you?  How do you feel about your hair?  How do you feel about other women’s hair?  Do you think women should wear their hair one length? Or natural? Or do you swear by a perm?  Why or why not?  And not to leave you brothers out, if you’re reading, do you have a serious opinion about the fairer sex’s hair?  And if so, what is it?