I am Not your slave 2

The Lord didn't pull me from the foot of a man so that he can walk all over me. Nor from his eyes where I may sit in his judgement. Nor his mouth where he can spew words of hatred. Nor from his hands where he can take authority over me. But his side. His rib. His covering. We must submit to each other. Honor each other. I am Not your slave.

I am Not your slave

What is happiness really? This question won't be the same for everyone, since most of us has different perspectives. However, I still ask the question. I once thought that having kids and a husband would complete me; boy was I wrong. It wasn't until I experienced painful loss, and many dead end relationships that I realized I needed to be a whole person entering into a relationship. It was too much to ask the other person to complete me, when they themselves were incomplete. I struggled with this for awhile. I struggled to gain control over situations that I had no power in. I searched for love in empty eyes, and rested my vision on death ears. I wanted more. I wanted happy and instead of voiding my dead places, I nourished them, so weeds began to grow. When I was a kid I loved seeing the dandelions. They represented Spring (my version of happy). I knew when I saw them the warm months were here to stay, but it wasn't until I became older that I realized that beautiful dandelions was a weed. It was nice to look at from afar but they didn't offer real substance. Lately I've been observing the people in my life and asking the question: Whose the dandelion? Who has positioned themselves in my Spring but offers no substance? Whose pretending to be my happy? Then I looked at me. Am I nourishing dead things inside of me? (Thoughts,  jobs, people, fears, frustrations?) Am I my weed? What do I need to uproot? The beauty about self examination is the process of unveiling you. Every flaw, every disappointment, every frustration, every hurt, every battle lost, every thing that tries to sabotage your happy.  

Lately I've been wondering if marriage is for me. I mean I have pondered on this deeply. Life has taught me that you never stop learning and growing. Once you reach your goals doesn't mean you're complete. It just opens the door for your more. Marriage is a beautiful sentiment. I've seen some wonderful, love infused couples and have secretly wanted to know their secret. I've even asked some older couples...what's the secret? Their response disappointed me. For the most part they shared their wisdom from their perspectives. Because honestly people only can give you their own view of something from their experiences. What they described, I don't want. It sounded more like a master slave agreement than a marriage (merger). I'm not a woman who believes that 'I am woman. Hear me roar', but I am a Woman. I don't believe that just because you take care of the bills, provide shelter, and food than somehow my role in your life is lower in value. As a husband those are things that I expect. It's not a trade off, you do this-i do that. No. It's love, it's respect, it's my safe place, it's my protection, it's my unconditional, it's my trust, it's my heart. I'm careful not to covet others marriages. Some are like the dandelion that I once admired as kid. Beautiful from a distance but once you get up close and personal, it's just a weed. I want my more. And I'm wondering if I can give more to someone while still pushing to be better. I'm trying but my efforts are coming up short. Quick question: Should I diminish my stature in order for him to feel more of 'the man'? I'm curious. Life is a constant learning ground and I'm here to grow. Be better. Love him with my complete self but I must say that I Am Not Your Slave. I'm a Wife. What's your definition of husband? Of Wife? Talk to me...

A changed mind.

I've been stuck in complacent for too long. Consistently repeating in memory every thing that went wrong. Careful to underline the what ifs. Angered by the what ifs. Now here's the shift. I decided to change my mind. My definition of happy no longer resembles what was taught to me. I'm free of the blemishes, the guilt, and shame that comes when you step outside of the lines that are deemed acceptable. I'm a different picture. 

I'm not a Victim

One day while walking down judgement and critical people  blvd. I ran into you. It was only while saying our good byes that I realized the hidden tone that was laced in between your woven words of nothing. It hurt. Some one who I admired from a far thought so less of me. Your words sat with me for days. Penetrating my thoughts. Restructuring my style. Transforming my core. Your words had settled in. I began to own them as if they were my original thoughts. I slept with them. Woke up with them. But what's worse is i believed them. Until one day while walking, I walked past a mirror, and as I looked at the reflection I slowly stopped. Carefully examining the reflection that was before me, I began to weep. A low moan escaped my lips as my weeping turned into sobbing. It was in that moment I had realized what had happened. How could a strong willed, strong minded person allow anyone to influence how I see me? How did I become persuaded of someone else's theory of my life? My cries continued. I grieved for days, blaming myself. Fussing at my inner me. Disappointed with the betrayal. I hid, sunk into depression, then became what I told myself I'd never become... a victim.

My love letter to my pen...

I've been contemplating having this conversation for awhile. I'm not really sure where I shall begin. We've been seeing each other off and on for a good number of years and nothing truly has come from it. I like you sometimes but I love you always. How long will we continue this thing between us? I live in your shadow. Or you live in mines. I see your relationship with others and I'm a little jealous because that's supposed to be us! We make such great  music together yet lately our tunes been off. How do you explain that? Can you explain that? Is it explainable? I'm not sure. When I dream of what we could be my heart weeps. I need you but if I'm honest you don't need me. I believed that we would be great. What do you think? Am I alone in feeling this way? I want to walk away but I'm stuck. You keep calling me, playing with the idea of a happy ending. Yet we are not growing together. I want us to be great but maybe our greatness will shine once we are apart. But I don't wanna part, you're my heart...

Entry 15

He was dreamy. His eyes smiled and when he looked at me his whole world lit up. I felt safe with him. When we were together, I mattered. I belonged. He made me feel like I was the most beautifulest woman in the world. This was new for me and I wasn't sure it was real but I didn't want to screw it up. I wanted to see where this could go but there was just one problem, I was pregnant. I wanted to tell him when we first set our eyes on each other again but I was scared that he'd walk away. The connection that I felt with him was unexplainable. So I stayed quiet and our bond grew. We became so conjoined that one day I went over to his house and never left. I moved in. It was the day before Valentine's Day, I felt bad about not telling him my secret. Since I was not showing yet it was easy for me to stay silent but I worried that soon I would blow up and it would all blow up in my face. Please understand that I didn't mean to not tell him but it never seemed like the right time. However the day before Valentines Day I couldn't stay quiet any longer. I had packed my things and was prepared for the worst. He came home and I told him. What a relief it was to finally let him know... I guess. He flipped. I don't quite remember all of the details but I do remember some curse words, a really angry face, and a slam of the door. He hated me. I knew I should be gone when he got back but I couldn't move. I wanted him to know that I was sorry. I was sorry. Really I was. What had I done?! Why didn't I tell him sooner?! I was 4-5 months pregnant at the time, why didn't I say something sooner?! Now what?!

Entry 14

I left. I'm no longer a traveling saleswoman, nope, I'm just a pregnant teenager ready to get it right this time. My mom told me that the guy who I was pregnant by before I left, the one where I miscarried, yea him, she said that he called. I was excited to hear that. I really liked him. Our timing was just off. I didn't even have a number to call him back. In the meantime I need to decide what am I going to do with myself. This was a struggle because I never quite saw myself as being anything but a wife and a mother. Of course I love to write, but in my vision I was a wife, a mother, and a creative writer. Which meant I stayed at home and wrote short stories. Nothing fancy, very domestic. I dreamt of remodeling our home and taking our kids to school and cooking dinner, cleaning the house, domesticated. That's all I saw. What I've learned is that sometimes you have to change the way you see you. This was a lonely time for me because I was the only one who could fix me. I had to change my mind. Which took many years to discover. Outside I appeared strong but on the inside I was desperate for someone anyone to throw me a lifeline. Then he called...