So....
I had to let a few days pass since I got the news my parents would be helping us out with a few expenses before I posted this blog. I had to let those days pass simply because I was hurting, I was upset, I was angry, and I needed to be sure that when I wrote, it was not out of anger, frustration, or hurt.
My goal would be to communicate that I am hurting, but not go beyond that into a place by saying things I would later regret.
It is very important to me to think before speaking as well as before writing because, ultimately, in the end of everything, only I am responsible for what I have said and done. No one else.
Okay, so, the reason for writing this is to discuss a very deep and personal misunderstanding that occurs between my parents and I.
To the entire universe, I would say my parents are the best parents on Earth. They loved us, raised us to love God, our fellow man, and each other, and they allowed us to dream big and think outside the box. They encouraged us to be multi-faceted, and to learn about others cultures, languages, everything, because they believe in the collective power of diversity.
My mom and dad rock!
However, as with anything, there is another side. This is the painful, hurtful, deep cutting and even deeper wounding side.
My parents have also judged me harshly, falsely accused me of doing things I did not do, called me names, told me they didn't know who I was because I wasn't acting like their child, and so on, and so forth. They have also made me feel as if I could never please them, that I make poor decisions, that I don't know how to properly take care of myself or my family.
The thing is, even when I've tried to talk to them about it, they seem to be nothing but defensive, and even when I come with the utmost respect and humility. They don't remember things that have transpired between us, as well as taking no responsibility for things they may have said or done.
This hurts me deeply. In fact, in asking for help, which I did this past week, I was made to feel less than, inferior, as if I made poor decisions and continue to make poor decisions, stupid, and alone.
I really needed to feel their love and support, and instead I felt judged and unwanted. As if I was bothering them.
Now, let me tell you, I work hard not to ask my parents for anything. I put myself through college on scholarships, and through grad school on scholarships and loans, and I went out of my way to make sure I would not be a burden on my parents.
So, why do I feel like I've failed them and myself because right now, in this moment, I need help?
That's all I've got to say on this...I can't write anymore. This just hurts too much.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Sunday, February 8, 2009
And the Biggest Loser Is...
So, tonight, well, technically at the midnight hour of this Sunday morning, I was watching last week's episode of The Biggest Loser, which I had missed, sadly.
As I was suspecting, the Silver Team, the only Black team remaining, was eliminated. But, I'm not crying foul because the sistahs got voted off. The teams all made the right decision, and Carla, the only one on that team that gave a good gosh darn, knew that they were.
I felt terrible for her, and, it made me think of all the past relationships I've had with people, including the whole "keeping up appearances" blog post last year.
What made me mad and compelled to write was Joelle, Carla's best friend, now no longer her friend at all, seemed to get all "foggy" and "I don't know to what you're referring" on Carla when she (Carla) wanted to address some of the issues she had with her (Joelle) upon leaving the ranch.
Joelle wasn't having it, talking about how it was the past and she wasn't going to participate in repetitive behavior, and rehash old things.
I don't like people like that. People that don't give you a chance to say what you feel or to express your thoughts about a point in time that you shared together or disagreed about.
Joelle clearly had "moved on" (I highly doubt it), but she wasn't willing to let Carla say her piece and clear the air. Carla expressed, finally, that she guessed Joelle was never her friend in the beginning.
About three women in particular, I feel that way. The one that hurts me the most is the one I was friends with the longest, and still, in fact, I appear to be friends with, but really am not. She is friends with a woman who never liked me (that is a story for another post, trust me...people really are a trip, especially when they don't talk to you directly about something or someone you supposedly have some sort of relationship with...) currently, and they are very close, and became close after my friend and I had a "falling out" if you will.
My friend, who I was the closest to and had the most in common with, really froze me out the months/weeks before I moved from Texas. I tried to apologize to her, to mend the fence, and I honestly, still to this day am wondering why she didn't confront me in the beginning before it grew to some sort of problem. I had known her since I was six years old, and, at the age of 26, I thought she would consider me a sister and cuss me out if need be for something I did wrong. I would have done that with her simply because I loved her like my own blood.
But she did not. Instead, she decided at the last minute she didn't want to room with me on our church's women's retreat. She barely invited me to her birthday celebration. She stopped answering my calls and barely returning them. For a period of two weeks, she ignored me, literally.
Oh, I cannot tell you how deeply that hurt me. I loved that woman, and I still love her, but I realize that she didn't want me as her friend.
I cried over that, I prayed over that, I tried to figure out how to make it all up to her. I did. I would put my hand on any bible, swear to the truth of that in any court. I DID.
I got no response from her.
At the request of her brother, last year (Christmas 2007), I reached out to her, I sent her an e-mail last year, she was invited to (and attended) my wedding, and, still, she has no time to address that thing. Or anything with me.
What I've found, especially with the women of my younger days, is that, maybe they really didn't care for me at all. I can't imagine somebody really caring about you and then totally cutting you out of their life like you never existed and replacing you, no less, before you knew you had been cut out.
I have written letters and burned them, to release the feelings and some of the hurt. I have cried, and prayed, truly, prayed, asking God to give me more wisdom.
I know that I can honestly say, no matter what I have done in my life, especially concerning these three women, I never did anything from spite or maliciousness. It may be hard for them or other people who know our stories to believe, but I always had the best intentions. ALWAYS.
I know from experience that good intentions don't always result well, and I can accept my shortcomings. I ask for forgiveness. From all of them, and for myself from myself. That is all I can do. I cannot do anymore.
I accept the fate of things for what they are. One day, I hope for complete closure from this, but for now, I can be happy that I tried, and haven't given up on any of them.
My arms and heart and doors have always been open. They have never been closed. But, I'm not going to allow this impasse we have between us effect my hopes, dreams, and goals for past, present, and future relationships with women, like I have been doing.
Here's to pressing on, and letting God work on each of us. I don't want anymore of my relationships to end up like Joelle's and Carla's.
I can be the biggest loser of my pride and selfishness. I hope they read this.
But, even if they don't, I hope you, my friends, learn something from me. We all could use to lose a little weight in the pride and selfishness area.
Thanks for reading.
As I was suspecting, the Silver Team, the only Black team remaining, was eliminated. But, I'm not crying foul because the sistahs got voted off. The teams all made the right decision, and Carla, the only one on that team that gave a good gosh darn, knew that they were.
I felt terrible for her, and, it made me think of all the past relationships I've had with people, including the whole "keeping up appearances" blog post last year.
What made me mad and compelled to write was Joelle, Carla's best friend, now no longer her friend at all, seemed to get all "foggy" and "I don't know to what you're referring" on Carla when she (Carla) wanted to address some of the issues she had with her (Joelle) upon leaving the ranch.
Joelle wasn't having it, talking about how it was the past and she wasn't going to participate in repetitive behavior, and rehash old things.
I don't like people like that. People that don't give you a chance to say what you feel or to express your thoughts about a point in time that you shared together or disagreed about.
Joelle clearly had "moved on" (I highly doubt it), but she wasn't willing to let Carla say her piece and clear the air. Carla expressed, finally, that she guessed Joelle was never her friend in the beginning.
About three women in particular, I feel that way. The one that hurts me the most is the one I was friends with the longest, and still, in fact, I appear to be friends with, but really am not. She is friends with a woman who never liked me (that is a story for another post, trust me...people really are a trip, especially when they don't talk to you directly about something or someone you supposedly have some sort of relationship with...) currently, and they are very close, and became close after my friend and I had a "falling out" if you will.
My friend, who I was the closest to and had the most in common with, really froze me out the months/weeks before I moved from Texas. I tried to apologize to her, to mend the fence, and I honestly, still to this day am wondering why she didn't confront me in the beginning before it grew to some sort of problem. I had known her since I was six years old, and, at the age of 26, I thought she would consider me a sister and cuss me out if need be for something I did wrong. I would have done that with her simply because I loved her like my own blood.
But she did not. Instead, she decided at the last minute she didn't want to room with me on our church's women's retreat. She barely invited me to her birthday celebration. She stopped answering my calls and barely returning them. For a period of two weeks, she ignored me, literally.
Oh, I cannot tell you how deeply that hurt me. I loved that woman, and I still love her, but I realize that she didn't want me as her friend.
I cried over that, I prayed over that, I tried to figure out how to make it all up to her. I did. I would put my hand on any bible, swear to the truth of that in any court. I DID.
I got no response from her.
At the request of her brother, last year (Christmas 2007), I reached out to her, I sent her an e-mail last year, she was invited to (and attended) my wedding, and, still, she has no time to address that thing. Or anything with me.
What I've found, especially with the women of my younger days, is that, maybe they really didn't care for me at all. I can't imagine somebody really caring about you and then totally cutting you out of their life like you never existed and replacing you, no less, before you knew you had been cut out.
I have written letters and burned them, to release the feelings and some of the hurt. I have cried, and prayed, truly, prayed, asking God to give me more wisdom.
I know that I can honestly say, no matter what I have done in my life, especially concerning these three women, I never did anything from spite or maliciousness. It may be hard for them or other people who know our stories to believe, but I always had the best intentions. ALWAYS.
I know from experience that good intentions don't always result well, and I can accept my shortcomings. I ask for forgiveness. From all of them, and for myself from myself. That is all I can do. I cannot do anymore.
I accept the fate of things for what they are. One day, I hope for complete closure from this, but for now, I can be happy that I tried, and haven't given up on any of them.
My arms and heart and doors have always been open. They have never been closed. But, I'm not going to allow this impasse we have between us effect my hopes, dreams, and goals for past, present, and future relationships with women, like I have been doing.
Here's to pressing on, and letting God work on each of us. I don't want anymore of my relationships to end up like Joelle's and Carla's.
I can be the biggest loser of my pride and selfishness. I hope they read this.
But, even if they don't, I hope you, my friends, learn something from me. We all could use to lose a little weight in the pride and selfishness area.
Thanks for reading.
Saturday, February 7, 2009
Finding Nemo (and Nakeisha)
Today, this afternoon, I watched Finding Nemo with Sean. I love this little movie because there are so many lessons to learn from the story, for adults and kids. One of the big ones for us adults is that we cannot control everything and we have to let our kids learn, grow, etc. One of Ellen's lines (aka the blue fish Dorie) was (speaking to Albert Brooks, aka Marlin the clown fish), "You can't promise that. You can't promise to let nothing happen to him cuz then nothing'll happen to him, lil Emo." (or whatever wrong thing she called Nemo).
That speaks to me, to keep my guard, but also to let Sean explore.
Today, however, that wasn't the main thing that grabbed me.
What caught my attention and promptly brought me to tears, was when the pelican friend of the aquarium dwellers came into the dentist's window and began to tell Nemo about his father, and all he went through to try to find him.
The exact line that had me crying was, "Your father's searching the whole ocean to find you."
Applying that to my own life, I thought about the love of God. Did you know that, each of us, like lost children, or anyone who gets lost, is actively and intensely pursued by God?
When I'm lost, and I can't get back again, He looks for me, and He will find me, and bring me home.
I hope, my friends, that all of you will reach the same conclusion one day - that no matter what, God loves you, He really, really loves you. No matter how lost, alone, frustrated, confused, and without a friend you may feel, God is there, and He loves you, and He will look for you, find you, and bring you home.
The choice is, as always, yours.
Love you, and thanks for reading.
That speaks to me, to keep my guard, but also to let Sean explore.
Today, however, that wasn't the main thing that grabbed me.
What caught my attention and promptly brought me to tears, was when the pelican friend of the aquarium dwellers came into the dentist's window and began to tell Nemo about his father, and all he went through to try to find him.
The exact line that had me crying was, "Your father's searching the whole ocean to find you."
Applying that to my own life, I thought about the love of God. Did you know that, each of us, like lost children, or anyone who gets lost, is actively and intensely pursued by God?
When I'm lost, and I can't get back again, He looks for me, and He will find me, and bring me home.
I hope, my friends, that all of you will reach the same conclusion one day - that no matter what, God loves you, He really, really loves you. No matter how lost, alone, frustrated, confused, and without a friend you may feel, God is there, and He loves you, and He will look for you, find you, and bring you home.
The choice is, as always, yours.
Love you, and thanks for reading.
I'm behind...
and I apologize for it. I'm a few days overdue on the posting of my measurements. It's been two weeks, and, frankly, I haven't worked out nearly as much as I would have liked.
I've been so stressed. We're just in need of better jobs, more money, and another car. What can I say. That's the truth. No bones about it.
I'm trying to just trust God and do my best to let it go because I realize so much of this is not in my control, nor can I control it - I cannot control if employers choose my resume' (outside of making sure my resume' is the best thing since sliced bread), I cannot make people hire me, I cannot manufacture money (unless I want to rot in a federal prison for counterfeiting), and I cannot make a car materialize out of thin air (unless, again, I want to go to jail for carjacking, sheesh!).
Anyway, here's my measurements, and I'll comment after I post them.
First, here's measurements from two weeks ago.
Chest - 52.25"
Waist - 58.375"
Hips - 53.75"
Arm (Left) - 18.25"
Arm (right) - 18"
Thigh (Left) - 29.25"
Thigh (right) - 30"
Here's measurements from tonight, just now in fact.
Chest - 52.25"
Waist - 57.5"
Hips - 54.5"
Arm (Left) - 16.25"
Arm (Right) - 17"
Thigh (Left) - 27.75"
Thigh (Right) - 28"
Wow. I don't think I expected results like this. I''m totally overwhelmed right now with a feeling of acoomplishment. This means I need to keep working hard, harder, than I have been, and, that this actually is a transformative thing.
I'm so happy right now. Thank God for this, because I'll be really honest. I needed this good news.
Oh, wow. I can't wait to tell Dray...I know he'll be just as happy as I am!
Well, here we go...in two more weeks, let's see what I can do!
Take care, and thanks for reading. I'll see you again soon!
I've been so stressed. We're just in need of better jobs, more money, and another car. What can I say. That's the truth. No bones about it.
I'm trying to just trust God and do my best to let it go because I realize so much of this is not in my control, nor can I control it - I cannot control if employers choose my resume' (outside of making sure my resume' is the best thing since sliced bread), I cannot make people hire me, I cannot manufacture money (unless I want to rot in a federal prison for counterfeiting), and I cannot make a car materialize out of thin air (unless, again, I want to go to jail for carjacking, sheesh!).
Anyway, here's my measurements, and I'll comment after I post them.
First, here's measurements from two weeks ago.
Chest - 52.25"
Waist - 58.375"
Hips - 53.75"
Arm (Left) - 18.25"
Arm (right) - 18"
Thigh (Left) - 29.25"
Thigh (right) - 30"
Here's measurements from tonight, just now in fact.
Chest - 52.25"
Waist - 57.5"
Hips - 54.5"
Arm (Left) - 16.25"
Arm (Right) - 17"
Thigh (Left) - 27.75"
Thigh (Right) - 28"
Wow. I don't think I expected results like this. I''m totally overwhelmed right now with a feeling of acoomplishment. This means I need to keep working hard, harder, than I have been, and, that this actually is a transformative thing.
I'm so happy right now. Thank God for this, because I'll be really honest. I needed this good news.
Oh, wow. I can't wait to tell Dray...I know he'll be just as happy as I am!
Well, here we go...in two more weeks, let's see what I can do!
Take care, and thanks for reading. I'll see you again soon!
Monday, February 2, 2009
Thoughts of Sean, and Sade
So, technically last night, but, since I'm still up, it would be tonight for me, I put Sean to bed. Sometimes, he wakes up, and I or Dray rush in to his room to get him back to sleep.
Tonight, since I was already anticipating him waking up once, I was ready to run in and fulfill my parental duty. Sean woke up, as expected, and I got him back to sleep, pretty quickly. In fact, he laid back down the moment he saw me come into the room, almost as if he, too, was expecting me to hear him and come in and sit by his cribside.
I sat and rubbed his back, as he drifted back into la-la land, and I decided to stick around for a few minutes. I love watching him sleep, and I just sat there, taking in the rhythmic rising and falling of his chest, watching the peacefulness of his face, his long eyelashes gently caressing his face as his eyes were closed, seemingly effortlessly on his part. :)
I'm a music nut, so, when I'm just sitting in silence, in my head, there's usually a song or two playing, and, while I was sitting there watching my beautiful son, the song by Sade, By Your Side, kept running through my head. I just sat there, in awe, thanking God for this beautiful little creature He entrusted to me and Dray, while the following lyrics were running through my thoughts.
From the chorus: "Oh, when your low, I'll be there, by your side, baby. Oh, when your cold, I'll be there, to hold you tight, to me." And then, from the bridge: "And if you want to cry, I'll be here to dry your eyes. And in no time, you'll be fine."
It made me think about how all of us start out as lil bundles of joy. It also made me wonder how my parents thought of me, my brothers, and if they looked at me and eventually, us, with the same wonderment and awe and thankfulness and humility and responsibility that I now look at my son. It also made me wonder when that all changes. When do we stop being our parents' little wonders and when do we start drifting away from each other, or growing closer as adults or separate human beings?
Here's an example, that happens to be from my own perspective.
My parents had me at an early age. They were in college, in fact, when I was born. Since they were both determined to finish school, I was shuffled, quite happily, between my mom's family and my dad's family. The good news was that both families lived in the same state. The bad news was that their families lived four hours away from each other in the same state. No big deal, though, because, as it is now well known, both of my parents' families get along famously well with each other. Between all the cousins, grandparents, brothers, sisters, aunts, and uncles, everyone combines to make one really big happy family. It's truly a blessing.
Suffice it to say that my mom, dad, and I kind of grew up together. Having said this, I've always wondered if they view me somewhat as a little sister and less as a daughter. I've always been curious about this, simply because there were times in my younger life when I felt like I really needed a mommy and I had a best friend, who was wiser and smarter than me. There were times when I felt really distant from my father, and that's because of a terrible event in my youth that I don't really discuss (please see previous blogs to put it all together if you'd like). I felt like I needed a dad and I got someone who just, well, was looking out for my best interests, but didn't express it in the way a 12 year old girl needed to hear it.
I get that my parents have their own parent issues, and even some scars that they've never discussed, perhaps, and why would they, with my brothers and I. But, in my day to day, I wonder how much of what I wanted or needed from them will affect how I parent my own son.
I hope that I will always be emotionally and mentally available to my son, whatever the situation or circumstance. I will pray that this is so, and ask God to give me discernment about how to speak to him. I don't want my words to damage him in any way, and I especially don't want to make him feel less than or that he's not good enough because of what I've said.
I don't ever want to break a promise to him or not keep my word. If I cannot deliver something, I will pray that I will always be honest and straightforward, meeting him where he is in my effort to explain or tell him the truth about anything he may have asked, and tactfully deflect when he is not yet old enough to understand.
Now, please, don't think that my parents didn't do these things. In fact, most of these things they did very, very well. My brothers and I were raised by two of the most loving and caring individuals on the other side of the Mississippi (remember, I'm from Texas, y'all). However, I know what I needed and sometimes didn't get, and sometimes still don't get. And I want to make sure Sean gets everything he needs.
Sometimes, I wish I was closer to them - meaning that, I would like to sit in my mom's arms and cry and tell her how much of a failure I feel, and have her lovingly tell me how much of a blessing I am, not tell me that I need to get up, get a job, get moving, etc., etc.
I feel like my dad sometimes wants to do that but he's not quite sure how, and I know I don't help, because I stay away. I should probably call more, even though we really don't stay on the phone long, and I should probably just express how much I love them more.
And maybe they would do it back, probably not, but, at least I can try. I just can't stand the awkwardness I feel sometimes between us, like there's something they want to say but don't, and me, having so much to say, to ask, but I don't.
I just want to feel the loving arms of my mom and dad around me, caring and loving me like they did when I can remember it, when I was little. When a scraped knee or a stomach flu was comforted by hugs, loving touches, and just the knowledge that they would be there for me.
I'm starting to cry now, but, I know that this is part of my process. I've got to take a good look at everything, and I know my relationship with my parents is something I must address.
Thanks for reading.
Tonight, since I was already anticipating him waking up once, I was ready to run in and fulfill my parental duty. Sean woke up, as expected, and I got him back to sleep, pretty quickly. In fact, he laid back down the moment he saw me come into the room, almost as if he, too, was expecting me to hear him and come in and sit by his cribside.
I sat and rubbed his back, as he drifted back into la-la land, and I decided to stick around for a few minutes. I love watching him sleep, and I just sat there, taking in the rhythmic rising and falling of his chest, watching the peacefulness of his face, his long eyelashes gently caressing his face as his eyes were closed, seemingly effortlessly on his part. :)
I'm a music nut, so, when I'm just sitting in silence, in my head, there's usually a song or two playing, and, while I was sitting there watching my beautiful son, the song by Sade, By Your Side, kept running through my head. I just sat there, in awe, thanking God for this beautiful little creature He entrusted to me and Dray, while the following lyrics were running through my thoughts.
From the chorus: "Oh, when your low, I'll be there, by your side, baby. Oh, when your cold, I'll be there, to hold you tight, to me." And then, from the bridge: "And if you want to cry, I'll be here to dry your eyes. And in no time, you'll be fine."
It made me think about how all of us start out as lil bundles of joy. It also made me wonder how my parents thought of me, my brothers, and if they looked at me and eventually, us, with the same wonderment and awe and thankfulness and humility and responsibility that I now look at my son. It also made me wonder when that all changes. When do we stop being our parents' little wonders and when do we start drifting away from each other, or growing closer as adults or separate human beings?
Here's an example, that happens to be from my own perspective.
My parents had me at an early age. They were in college, in fact, when I was born. Since they were both determined to finish school, I was shuffled, quite happily, between my mom's family and my dad's family. The good news was that both families lived in the same state. The bad news was that their families lived four hours away from each other in the same state. No big deal, though, because, as it is now well known, both of my parents' families get along famously well with each other. Between all the cousins, grandparents, brothers, sisters, aunts, and uncles, everyone combines to make one really big happy family. It's truly a blessing.
Suffice it to say that my mom, dad, and I kind of grew up together. Having said this, I've always wondered if they view me somewhat as a little sister and less as a daughter. I've always been curious about this, simply because there were times in my younger life when I felt like I really needed a mommy and I had a best friend, who was wiser and smarter than me. There were times when I felt really distant from my father, and that's because of a terrible event in my youth that I don't really discuss (please see previous blogs to put it all together if you'd like). I felt like I needed a dad and I got someone who just, well, was looking out for my best interests, but didn't express it in the way a 12 year old girl needed to hear it.
I get that my parents have their own parent issues, and even some scars that they've never discussed, perhaps, and why would they, with my brothers and I. But, in my day to day, I wonder how much of what I wanted or needed from them will affect how I parent my own son.
I hope that I will always be emotionally and mentally available to my son, whatever the situation or circumstance. I will pray that this is so, and ask God to give me discernment about how to speak to him. I don't want my words to damage him in any way, and I especially don't want to make him feel less than or that he's not good enough because of what I've said.
I don't ever want to break a promise to him or not keep my word. If I cannot deliver something, I will pray that I will always be honest and straightforward, meeting him where he is in my effort to explain or tell him the truth about anything he may have asked, and tactfully deflect when he is not yet old enough to understand.
Now, please, don't think that my parents didn't do these things. In fact, most of these things they did very, very well. My brothers and I were raised by two of the most loving and caring individuals on the other side of the Mississippi (remember, I'm from Texas, y'all). However, I know what I needed and sometimes didn't get, and sometimes still don't get. And I want to make sure Sean gets everything he needs.
Sometimes, I wish I was closer to them - meaning that, I would like to sit in my mom's arms and cry and tell her how much of a failure I feel, and have her lovingly tell me how much of a blessing I am, not tell me that I need to get up, get a job, get moving, etc., etc.
I feel like my dad sometimes wants to do that but he's not quite sure how, and I know I don't help, because I stay away. I should probably call more, even though we really don't stay on the phone long, and I should probably just express how much I love them more.
And maybe they would do it back, probably not, but, at least I can try. I just can't stand the awkwardness I feel sometimes between us, like there's something they want to say but don't, and me, having so much to say, to ask, but I don't.
I just want to feel the loving arms of my mom and dad around me, caring and loving me like they did when I can remember it, when I was little. When a scraped knee or a stomach flu was comforted by hugs, loving touches, and just the knowledge that they would be there for me.
I'm starting to cry now, but, I know that this is part of my process. I've got to take a good look at everything, and I know my relationship with my parents is something I must address.
Thanks for reading.
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