Well, this one caught me off-guard.
I kind of stumbled blindly upon this site- Black Genocide Dot Org- and am surprised by how much it struck me.
I can't say with any certainty the statistics it claims are accurate, but it seems plausible enough.
I should explain, I suppose, that I'm pro-choice. I don't believe in killing babies, but I don't believe in killing children, either. The way I see it, a mother has to make the choice to be a mother. Adoptions are difficult and less than affordable for many families, so these women who find themselves between a rock and a hard belly may be damning their child to extinction either way. I don't agree with forcing anyone- be it a fetus/baby or a woman- into a corner. Giving women the right to choose is not forcing their hand either way. Condemning abortions is.
However, that said, I couldn't do it myself. I have been raped twice, the first resulting in pregnancy. There was a period of time I wouldn't leave the house with my mother because she wanted me to have an abortion so badly. I miscarried the baby anyway, she'd be turning ten in the spring, but it was a choice left to God, not one I took into my own hands. I don't know a woman who's chosen abortion who hasn't struggled with it violently afterwards, often for the rest of their lives.
So, seeing statistics and quotes that wrench my heart about abortions are rather shocking to me. I'm not a fan of the 'shock jock' method of anti-abortion/pro-life advertisments. I'm rather appalled by it. I know there's never been a doubt in my mind what the process does, but that sure doesn't mean I need to see pictures. Yet, here I am seeing quotes like "Therefore, choose life, that your children may live." -Deuteronomy 30:19 and statistics like "Between 1882 and 1968, 3,446 Blacks were lynched in the U.S. That number is surpassed in less than 3 days by abortion." throws me.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Patience And Pain
I text Doc last night and asked him what he wanted out of this.
"I don't know, but I'm too tired to think about it"
That was a slap in the face, though I doubt he realized that.
Today, I find out he doesn't recall referring to me as his girlfriend the other night. (Cue Blame It On The Alcohol by Jamie Foxx.) Oh, and he's not ready to date.
Wait, what?!
Then what is this?!
Then I get a nasty text message from a mutual friend snapping at me for repeating a comment of his to Doc, one I was trying to clarify at the time.
So I went off on Doc. He didn't know what I was talking about, he said.
I'm still trying to figure out what exactly is going on.
I'm hurt, my ego bruised, my heart beaten once more.
I just want to be left alone for a while. I just want things to stay positive for more than a couple days without some monkey wrench putting me into tears.
"I don't know, but I'm too tired to think about it"
That was a slap in the face, though I doubt he realized that.
Today, I find out he doesn't recall referring to me as his girlfriend the other night. (Cue Blame It On The Alcohol by Jamie Foxx.) Oh, and he's not ready to date.
Wait, what?!
Then what is this?!
Then I get a nasty text message from a mutual friend snapping at me for repeating a comment of his to Doc, one I was trying to clarify at the time.
So I went off on Doc. He didn't know what I was talking about, he said.
I'm still trying to figure out what exactly is going on.
I'm hurt, my ego bruised, my heart beaten once more.
I just want to be left alone for a while. I just want things to stay positive for more than a couple days without some monkey wrench putting me into tears.
Monday, October 25, 2010
Gypsy Grace
I can't tell you how many times I've heard the phrase "strong female" translated into that one magic word:BITCH.
I don't care if you call me a bitch.
Go for "the c-word" too, if you'd like. You know, that special word for female genitalia that generally ends up in violence when directed at a woman.
The fact of the matter is, I am a strong female. I wasn't raised in a lesbian household, I wasn't told I could do anything I wanted, I didn't have a parent in the military. Hell, I didn't even have a positive female role model.
I have been raped, beaten, stolen from, stabbed, used, hit, abused in more ways than I really care to imagine.
The fact of the matter is, I refuse to let it happen again.
Every time the two rapes or molestations I went through start spinning their ugly reel in my head again, I go back and read this article over at Yes Means Yes. I've written about it before, but, being at the beginning of a potentially serious relationship with someone I genuinely respect on a number of levels, being willing to bare my soul in a way I hadn't expected to be able to, well, this article brings on a whole new meaning for me. I also have a Soldier coming in next week who happens to be male- and my first Soldier here at this post. Setting boundaries with a Soldier is not that much different from setting boundaries with a child or a friend. It's generally a combination of the two styles, varying, of course, by Soldier.
I continually go back to this article, though, because it reminds me that what I was raised to believe was wrong for a little girl to do is everything a woman needs to know how to do. I need to know how to be able to yell at the top of my lungs in a suddenly jacked-up and potentially dangerous situation, and do so without hesitation. Whether it's a male coming at me in a way that scares me, or my Soldier about to get hit by a truck he doesn't see, I need to be able to react immediately and loudly. I do not need to feel that I have to justify my decisions every time they are challenged. Yes, there will be situations when I must tell my seniors why I made the choice I did, but, frankly, there will be more situations when I have to tell my Soldiers they'll just have to trust me and to execute. I have to be able to shut down someone coming at me inappropriately. What kind of leader would I be if I allowed that Sergeant First Class to come at me sideways, flirting with me in front of my Soldiers, or allow someone senior to me to behave inappropriately in my clinic? I have to be able to tell them to stop what they're doing and get out of my clinic, like it or not, because they're wrong. I don't need to give in to someone who doesn't want me to follow through with what I'm pushing for. I need to be able to stick to my guns and not crack, no matter how many times they push me.
I have been called a bitch. Sometimes it was to my face, sometimes it was within earshot, sometimes I heard it through friends, and I'm sure there were plenty of times I never heard about it at all. I don't care.
I have seen hell.
When you've been to rock bottom, you can only go up.
No matter how exhausting, how frustrating, infuriating, overwhelming, or painful the climb- there's only room to move upwards.
My mother never saw that. She saw the one rock in front of her, and chose not to step over it. My mother is not my hero. My mother clung to excuses like they were her lifeline, while all the time they were her chains. They kept her right where she was, never allowing her to move in any direction, always holding her prisoner to her addictions and ignorances.
I am a Gypsy, though, and I refuse to be the weak White woman folks see when they look at my mother. Men saw someone to care for, someone to fix. Like an ocean, she's bound to, eventually, wear down even the most stubborn coast. I am stronger than that. I do not need alcohol, I do not need excuses, I do not need a man to support me. When I pledge my love to another man, it will be because he respects me as I do him, because he knows that I will not waiver or hurt him, that I will be the woman I've sworn to be. I will not back down, I will not turn back, and I will not be weak. I would rather be called crazy, I would rather be called a bitch, I would rather be the strong woman who knows what she wants than to ever, ever be called weak.
I don't care if you call me a bitch.
Go for "the c-word" too, if you'd like. You know, that special word for female genitalia that generally ends up in violence when directed at a woman.
The fact of the matter is, I am a strong female. I wasn't raised in a lesbian household, I wasn't told I could do anything I wanted, I didn't have a parent in the military. Hell, I didn't even have a positive female role model.
I have been raped, beaten, stolen from, stabbed, used, hit, abused in more ways than I really care to imagine.
The fact of the matter is, I refuse to let it happen again.
Every time the two rapes or molestations I went through start spinning their ugly reel in my head again, I go back and read this article over at Yes Means Yes. I've written about it before, but, being at the beginning of a potentially serious relationship with someone I genuinely respect on a number of levels, being willing to bare my soul in a way I hadn't expected to be able to, well, this article brings on a whole new meaning for me. I also have a Soldier coming in next week who happens to be male- and my first Soldier here at this post. Setting boundaries with a Soldier is not that much different from setting boundaries with a child or a friend. It's generally a combination of the two styles, varying, of course, by Soldier.
I continually go back to this article, though, because it reminds me that what I was raised to believe was wrong for a little girl to do is everything a woman needs to know how to do. I need to know how to be able to yell at the top of my lungs in a suddenly jacked-up and potentially dangerous situation, and do so without hesitation. Whether it's a male coming at me in a way that scares me, or my Soldier about to get hit by a truck he doesn't see, I need to be able to react immediately and loudly. I do not need to feel that I have to justify my decisions every time they are challenged. Yes, there will be situations when I must tell my seniors why I made the choice I did, but, frankly, there will be more situations when I have to tell my Soldiers they'll just have to trust me and to execute. I have to be able to shut down someone coming at me inappropriately. What kind of leader would I be if I allowed that Sergeant First Class to come at me sideways, flirting with me in front of my Soldiers, or allow someone senior to me to behave inappropriately in my clinic? I have to be able to tell them to stop what they're doing and get out of my clinic, like it or not, because they're wrong. I don't need to give in to someone who doesn't want me to follow through with what I'm pushing for. I need to be able to stick to my guns and not crack, no matter how many times they push me.
I have been called a bitch. Sometimes it was to my face, sometimes it was within earshot, sometimes I heard it through friends, and I'm sure there were plenty of times I never heard about it at all. I don't care.
I have seen hell.
When you've been to rock bottom, you can only go up.
No matter how exhausting, how frustrating, infuriating, overwhelming, or painful the climb- there's only room to move upwards.
My mother never saw that. She saw the one rock in front of her, and chose not to step over it. My mother is not my hero. My mother clung to excuses like they were her lifeline, while all the time they were her chains. They kept her right where she was, never allowing her to move in any direction, always holding her prisoner to her addictions and ignorances.
I am a Gypsy, though, and I refuse to be the weak White woman folks see when they look at my mother. Men saw someone to care for, someone to fix. Like an ocean, she's bound to, eventually, wear down even the most stubborn coast. I am stronger than that. I do not need alcohol, I do not need excuses, I do not need a man to support me. When I pledge my love to another man, it will be because he respects me as I do him, because he knows that I will not waiver or hurt him, that I will be the woman I've sworn to be. I will not back down, I will not turn back, and I will not be weak. I would rather be called crazy, I would rather be called a bitch, I would rather be the strong woman who knows what she wants than to ever, ever be called weak.
Onward!
So, things are off to a good start with Doc.
Patient, affectionate, very sweet, intelligent, funny, and generally pretty cool. He catches hints way better than most men, and doesn't take my emotional ranting too much to heart. I hope this sticks.
It is, however, the way of the universe, to test what anyone says they believe in. Within a matter of days of starting to hang out with him, there were two people making less-than-positive comments about it, and, of course, now that I have no intention of dealing with anyone else, guys are coming out of the wood work.
That's okay, though, because I know what I want, and this is where I'll stay.
I'm doing my damndest to get it right this time. I'm just tired of being alone.
I catch myself missing my ex-husband on occasion, but I think sometimes it's more the knowing that someone will be there through anything that I miss, rather than him specifically. He's a wonderful man, but not someone I should be married to.
Meanwhile, back at the farm, it's Girl Time and I'm about dying. I have 30 minutes of work left and they seem to drag on forever. And ever. And ever... I don't know how I've made it through the day. I am beyond miserable.
No clue what dinner is going to consist of- half of a burrito is all I've managed to choke down today, as I'm simply feeling miserable- but I know laundry and cleaning are musts, no matter how miserable I feel.
Patient, affectionate, very sweet, intelligent, funny, and generally pretty cool. He catches hints way better than most men, and doesn't take my emotional ranting too much to heart. I hope this sticks.
It is, however, the way of the universe, to test what anyone says they believe in. Within a matter of days of starting to hang out with him, there were two people making less-than-positive comments about it, and, of course, now that I have no intention of dealing with anyone else, guys are coming out of the wood work.
That's okay, though, because I know what I want, and this is where I'll stay.
I'm doing my damndest to get it right this time. I'm just tired of being alone.
I catch myself missing my ex-husband on occasion, but I think sometimes it's more the knowing that someone will be there through anything that I miss, rather than him specifically. He's a wonderful man, but not someone I should be married to.
Meanwhile, back at the farm, it's Girl Time and I'm about dying. I have 30 minutes of work left and they seem to drag on forever. And ever. And ever... I don't know how I've made it through the day. I am beyond miserable.
No clue what dinner is going to consist of- half of a burrito is all I've managed to choke down today, as I'm simply feeling miserable- but I know laundry and cleaning are musts, no matter how miserable I feel.
Friday, October 22, 2010
Difference
"But this one's different!"
How many times have I said that?
It's always been true. Every person I've dated really was different than the others.
We're individuals, it's kinda part of the deal, no?
Anyway, Bright Eyes attempted to set me straight in an email that followed my last blog.
He said I've gotten "absolutely giddy" about "at least 4 guys" in the last couple months- presumably, he was not including himself. I went back and, as best I could, between blog and memory, ensured I wasn't completely off-base for saying "WTF" when I read this sentence.
Four guys?
Um, no...
Bunny and I have been friends, and I really wish that there was something ultimately more than that, but, yes, I'll admit to getting "giddy" about him at one point and time. Bunny is, and likely always will be, amongst the best men I've ever known. He's wonderful, and, truth be told, I love him- just not that way. I've been truly grateful to have him in my life, and I don't really like the thought of not having him there. However, we were friends. He only very recently got his divorce finalized and, while he's been wonderful, I'd be lying if I said I hadn't walked on him at all. It wasn't intentional, but, yes, there were choices I made that could have been made better for his sake.
Flag, Scout and a few random, vague references to male friends are the only people, besides Bright Eyes, and, now, Doc that I have mentioned. Bright Eyes is a man I love very much, and I love his daughter very much. I walked on him once, though, so it seems unlikely that would change a whole lot during a second round. Flag and Scout are good guys but one date, once, with Flag, I seriously have trouble comprehending as "giddy". He's a great guy, but, really? One date and it's serious enough to pull out an email? Anyway, that frustration aside....
Doc is a friend of a friend. Yes, there are a lot of changes going on in my life, but to assume that they are because of one- or several, even- man/men is a bit, um, demeaning. I have had enough things change in recent months- Danger's death, moving back to the town I knew as a child, things with my father- that I'm a little surprised subsequent, smaller, and more positive and self-driven changes have even been worth note. I have finally chosen to let go of my bad habit of holding on to "other options" when I'm in a relationship, and really focus. I have realized that I need someone strong enough to stand up to me who also treats me well. I have found this in Doc. I am truly blessed and very proud of my growth.
How many times have I said that?
It's always been true. Every person I've dated really was different than the others.
We're individuals, it's kinda part of the deal, no?
Anyway, Bright Eyes attempted to set me straight in an email that followed my last blog.
He said I've gotten "absolutely giddy" about "at least 4 guys" in the last couple months- presumably, he was not including himself. I went back and, as best I could, between blog and memory, ensured I wasn't completely off-base for saying "WTF" when I read this sentence.
Four guys?
Um, no...
Bunny and I have been friends, and I really wish that there was something ultimately more than that, but, yes, I'll admit to getting "giddy" about him at one point and time. Bunny is, and likely always will be, amongst the best men I've ever known. He's wonderful, and, truth be told, I love him- just not that way. I've been truly grateful to have him in my life, and I don't really like the thought of not having him there. However, we were friends. He only very recently got his divorce finalized and, while he's been wonderful, I'd be lying if I said I hadn't walked on him at all. It wasn't intentional, but, yes, there were choices I made that could have been made better for his sake.
Flag, Scout and a few random, vague references to male friends are the only people, besides Bright Eyes, and, now, Doc that I have mentioned. Bright Eyes is a man I love very much, and I love his daughter very much. I walked on him once, though, so it seems unlikely that would change a whole lot during a second round. Flag and Scout are good guys but one date, once, with Flag, I seriously have trouble comprehending as "giddy". He's a great guy, but, really? One date and it's serious enough to pull out an email? Anyway, that frustration aside....
Doc is a friend of a friend. Yes, there are a lot of changes going on in my life, but to assume that they are because of one- or several, even- man/men is a bit, um, demeaning. I have had enough things change in recent months- Danger's death, moving back to the town I knew as a child, things with my father- that I'm a little surprised subsequent, smaller, and more positive and self-driven changes have even been worth note. I have finally chosen to let go of my bad habit of holding on to "other options" when I'm in a relationship, and really focus. I have realized that I need someone strong enough to stand up to me who also treats me well. I have found this in Doc. I am truly blessed and very proud of my growth.
Curve Ball!
Wow.
Just... WOW.
I had met a guy at a friend's birthday Sunday night who I immediately hit it off with. We're gonna call this one Doc- he's the first fellow medic I've taken interest in for a very long time. He's not really what I'd label as my type- White, about my height, stocky with a little big of a gut at the moment. He has blue eyes. I've always had a weakness for brown.
I'm ready.
I'm not holding on to other options, and giving myself the escape route I've taken all too often in the past.
That's going to be a tough conversation to have with folks, but that lightbulb clicked on last night, like it hasn't with anyone else lately and said 'Yup, time to get it in gear.'
It may not work out.
It may end before or when he leaves for Japan in August.
Or it may work out.
Either way, I'm giving this my best shot.
He won't take my crap, but he'll treat me like a lady.
I won't be allowed to walk on him, but he's got a great sense of humor.
Here goes my heart...
Just... WOW.
I had met a guy at a friend's birthday Sunday night who I immediately hit it off with. We're gonna call this one Doc- he's the first fellow medic I've taken interest in for a very long time. He's not really what I'd label as my type- White, about my height, stocky with a little big of a gut at the moment. He has blue eyes. I've always had a weakness for brown.
I'm ready.
I'm not holding on to other options, and giving myself the escape route I've taken all too often in the past.
That's going to be a tough conversation to have with folks, but that lightbulb clicked on last night, like it hasn't with anyone else lately and said 'Yup, time to get it in gear.'
It may not work out.
It may end before or when he leaves for Japan in August.
Or it may work out.
Either way, I'm giving this my best shot.
He won't take my crap, but he'll treat me like a lady.
I won't be allowed to walk on him, but he's got a great sense of humor.
Here goes my heart...
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Limits On Love
I'm torturing myself.
I am fortunate enough to have several people- men- in my life right now that I can't see my life without, two in particular. Bright Eyes and Bunny have both been amazing to me, both loved me (whether or not the words were spoken) and been incredibly good to me.
But, because neither of them fit my "plan" and my idea of the way things should be, I've kept them at a distance, and I continue to look for "love" when I have two wonderful men in my life, though very different and very far apart.
Bright Eyes and Angel Eyes are in my heart a way I didn't think possible, and I love them both so much I can't comprehend it. I've never loved a child like they were my own, even when I was a nanny and truly thought of the girls as nearly my own because of the amount of time I spent with them.
Bunny has been that person that is there for me constantly- I know I can call him for anything and he'll be there and do what he has to to look out for me. In the middle of the night, right after he gets home from work, it hasn't mattered. He may not have always understood what I needed, but he always did whatever he could to make it better, anyway.
Last night I had a date with Flag- an honest-to-God date, which are few and far between these days. I really enjoyed my time with him, though I kept the barriers up, and I'm not sure if I should write that off as normal or assume I'm just trying to keep people out still. He'd fit into my plans. Yet, I doubt, and, despite him being good to me, my heart is so caught up hurting over my crappy choices and unfair treatment of both Bright Eyes and Bunny that I'm just absolutely miserable and actually upset that I enjoyed my date. I need to stop screwing around. I keep insisting that I want a relationship, that I'm ready for one, yet I push everyone who wants that with me away hard and fast and as completely as possible- all too often without letting them know this is going on.
I'm hurting them.
I am wrong for treating them this way.
I can't figure out if it's even okay for me to be trying to find someone who fits my plan, or if I'm completely wrong across the board.
I have to stop this.
I am fortunate enough to have several people- men- in my life right now that I can't see my life without, two in particular. Bright Eyes and Bunny have both been amazing to me, both loved me (whether or not the words were spoken) and been incredibly good to me.
But, because neither of them fit my "plan" and my idea of the way things should be, I've kept them at a distance, and I continue to look for "love" when I have two wonderful men in my life, though very different and very far apart.
Bright Eyes and Angel Eyes are in my heart a way I didn't think possible, and I love them both so much I can't comprehend it. I've never loved a child like they were my own, even when I was a nanny and truly thought of the girls as nearly my own because of the amount of time I spent with them.
Bunny has been that person that is there for me constantly- I know I can call him for anything and he'll be there and do what he has to to look out for me. In the middle of the night, right after he gets home from work, it hasn't mattered. He may not have always understood what I needed, but he always did whatever he could to make it better, anyway.
Last night I had a date with Flag- an honest-to-God date, which are few and far between these days. I really enjoyed my time with him, though I kept the barriers up, and I'm not sure if I should write that off as normal or assume I'm just trying to keep people out still. He'd fit into my plans. Yet, I doubt, and, despite him being good to me, my heart is so caught up hurting over my crappy choices and unfair treatment of both Bright Eyes and Bunny that I'm just absolutely miserable and actually upset that I enjoyed my date. I need to stop screwing around. I keep insisting that I want a relationship, that I'm ready for one, yet I push everyone who wants that with me away hard and fast and as completely as possible- all too often without letting them know this is going on.
I'm hurting them.
I am wrong for treating them this way.
I can't figure out if it's even okay for me to be trying to find someone who fits my plan, or if I'm completely wrong across the board.
I have to stop this.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Pain? What Pain?
So, my Master Sergeant gave me a bit of a lecture at the end of the work day yesterday.
The interesting part is, simplified, it was "Your leaders are screwing up, don't be like them."
I can't tell you how glad I am that I'm not the only one seeing what I'm seeing.
Some of the madness I have had to deal with has had me frustrated, to say the least. To have a first-line supervisor that I try really hard not to complain about, because I feel it is disrespectful for one leader to talk badly about another, well, it's aggravating. My friends, none the less, know multiple stories about her that would surely make her drill sergeants blush. I try to keep it with folks outside of work, though, so that my frustrations don't run over into the workplace.
I am trying to be patient, and kind, and a whole lot of other stuff I feel that I'm failing at, but I'm still doing better than I did in Korea. I guess that's a starting place, right?
My Soldier will be signing in on Halloween, and will be coming here about a week later. I can't wait to actually meet this Soldier that I've talked to so much. MSG gave me the choice to send her elsewhere and get a Soldier in from somewhere here on post. I told him no, I was keeping her. I know she looks bad on paper, having no PT test recently, being young, recently married, and overweight, but I'm a firm believer in some Soldiers just wanting a chance to prove themselves. Korea is not a place where that happens. She's worked her butt off recently so that she can come here and get back on track, and I'll be damned if I take that chance away from her.
We had a Soldier in Basic Training. I don't remember his name anymore, but I remember that our platoon was mad as all get-out (myself included, I won't lie) when he got switched to our platoon because he was doing so badly in his other platoon. One day, lined up in the hallway, he was one or two people behind me. A Soldier from his last platoon started talking trash to him from across the hall. I looked that Soldier dead in the face and said "Maybe he wasn't any good in your platoon, but it must have been you guys, because he's doing great with us." I thought that 18 year old Soldier was going to cry when he heard me talk about him that way. It was a bold-faced lie, but I looked at him, after the offending Soldier stepped away, and said "I put my word out there for you, you know you gotta get right now, right?" He said yes, and was awarded the Most Improved Soldier Award at the end of our training.
The interesting part is, simplified, it was "Your leaders are screwing up, don't be like them."
I can't tell you how glad I am that I'm not the only one seeing what I'm seeing.
Some of the madness I have had to deal with has had me frustrated, to say the least. To have a first-line supervisor that I try really hard not to complain about, because I feel it is disrespectful for one leader to talk badly about another, well, it's aggravating. My friends, none the less, know multiple stories about her that would surely make her drill sergeants blush. I try to keep it with folks outside of work, though, so that my frustrations don't run over into the workplace.
I am trying to be patient, and kind, and a whole lot of other stuff I feel that I'm failing at, but I'm still doing better than I did in Korea. I guess that's a starting place, right?
My Soldier will be signing in on Halloween, and will be coming here about a week later. I can't wait to actually meet this Soldier that I've talked to so much. MSG gave me the choice to send her elsewhere and get a Soldier in from somewhere here on post. I told him no, I was keeping her. I know she looks bad on paper, having no PT test recently, being young, recently married, and overweight, but I'm a firm believer in some Soldiers just wanting a chance to prove themselves. Korea is not a place where that happens. She's worked her butt off recently so that she can come here and get back on track, and I'll be damned if I take that chance away from her.
We had a Soldier in Basic Training. I don't remember his name anymore, but I remember that our platoon was mad as all get-out (myself included, I won't lie) when he got switched to our platoon because he was doing so badly in his other platoon. One day, lined up in the hallway, he was one or two people behind me. A Soldier from his last platoon started talking trash to him from across the hall. I looked that Soldier dead in the face and said "Maybe he wasn't any good in your platoon, but it must have been you guys, because he's doing great with us." I thought that 18 year old Soldier was going to cry when he heard me talk about him that way. It was a bold-faced lie, but I looked at him, after the offending Soldier stepped away, and said "I put my word out there for you, you know you gotta get right now, right?" He said yes, and was awarded the Most Improved Soldier Award at the end of our training.
Friday, October 15, 2010
Open
I went out last night.
It was a Thursday night.
Lady La La took me to the local country bar, where I'd never been before.
I made 2 friends, both military, both male, one active duty hippie dying to leave the service, and the other a Reservist missing active duty desperately. One was a cook, the other a medic. Both were about my age, one is half Korean, half White, while the other is pure, unadulterated Mexican. They were even similar builds- just about my height, short and stocky-ish.
The half-Korean- Flag, we'll call him- hippie was terribly funny, and fun to pick on. He was flirtatious, outgoing, and reminded me of myself in some ways.
My Mexican friend ("Scout") had a more intelligent wit, was a little more reserved and very well-mannered, though far less mainstream in appearance, with his glasses and button-up shirt.
I was immediately attracted to Flag. It seems I have woken up enough to my own habits to realize that this is part of what makes him all wrong for me. He's fun to be around- but so am I. He's outgoing, loud, goofy, hippie, wild, and just ready for whatever. I need a partner, not a twin. While I genuinely like him, I think I may try to keep him on a partner-in-crime level, rather than a romantic one. It'd be nice to think that could work out- someone to travel with who's got the same wild streak I do- but, frankly, I think it'd be more intelligent of me to go with people who temper that wild streak over enhancing it. Sure, I want to get my living in while the living is good, but, well, I do that pretty effectively without help.
I don't like this growing up thing one bit. *sigh*
This isn't, of course, to say that I'm automatically assuming either one of these guys is a life partner, by any means... simply that, well, my head is starting to wrap around the things I need over those I want.
What a pain.
The first guy that hit on me, last night, though- the one I stepped away from as quickly as I was able to do politely- wound up getting thrown out of the bar for fighting.
I'm getting there.
It was a Thursday night.
Lady La La took me to the local country bar, where I'd never been before.
I made 2 friends, both military, both male, one active duty hippie dying to leave the service, and the other a Reservist missing active duty desperately. One was a cook, the other a medic. Both were about my age, one is half Korean, half White, while the other is pure, unadulterated Mexican. They were even similar builds- just about my height, short and stocky-ish.
The half-Korean- Flag, we'll call him- hippie was terribly funny, and fun to pick on. He was flirtatious, outgoing, and reminded me of myself in some ways.
My Mexican friend ("Scout") had a more intelligent wit, was a little more reserved and very well-mannered, though far less mainstream in appearance, with his glasses and button-up shirt.
I was immediately attracted to Flag. It seems I have woken up enough to my own habits to realize that this is part of what makes him all wrong for me. He's fun to be around- but so am I. He's outgoing, loud, goofy, hippie, wild, and just ready for whatever. I need a partner, not a twin. While I genuinely like him, I think I may try to keep him on a partner-in-crime level, rather than a romantic one. It'd be nice to think that could work out- someone to travel with who's got the same wild streak I do- but, frankly, I think it'd be more intelligent of me to go with people who temper that wild streak over enhancing it. Sure, I want to get my living in while the living is good, but, well, I do that pretty effectively without help.
I don't like this growing up thing one bit. *sigh*
This isn't, of course, to say that I'm automatically assuming either one of these guys is a life partner, by any means... simply that, well, my head is starting to wrap around the things I need over those I want.
What a pain.
The first guy that hit on me, last night, though- the one I stepped away from as quickly as I was able to do politely- wound up getting thrown out of the bar for fighting.
I'm getting there.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Wasted Days
"I shall not waste my days in trying to prolong them." -Ian Fleming
This is a quote I stumbled across a few days ago that goes quite well with Mead's recent post titled Recent Days.
Taking reasonable precautions is admirable, but, as I heard someone else recently sum this topic up, 'What good is it for me to live to be 100 if I haven't done anything in 100 years?'
This is a thought I try to keep in my mind, as things have gotten especially frustrating lately. I have finally made it past the most painful part of the healing process, healing the wounds of Danger's passing away, as well as some risidual rape-related hurt, but this new stage of the healing process brings with it new challenges.
Craving intimacy- not sex, nor romance, nor even love, but true, deep, personal, frightening, overwhelming, risky, interpersonal intimacy.... This is new. This is scary. Maybe this is what most people feel when they begin dating someone new that they really like. Me, though, I'm feeling it just contemplating opening up to anyone enough to trust them not to abandon me.
I've dated, I've been married (and divorced), lived in a lot of places, met a lot of people, and there's still plenty I want to do... but intimacy? That... just seems to detract from all those things I want to do. Not because I can't imagine having someone there with me as I do these things, but because it takes a lot of trust to believe that someone will stand by me through trips to India, through possibly changing careers or going through college or deciding I don't ever want children of my own or- scarier yet- deciding that I do. That's a huge amount of trust! How have I not seen this before?
Last night, I laid awake, late into the night, wanting to be held, wanting someone to be there, to listen, to want to be there while I cried. There was nobody, though, that I'd opened up to enough to feel as though I could trust them enough to ask them to do that. There was nobody I could think of that I could call that I would want and trust to hold me and be there for me. That's not to say nobody would have, just that the people who I'd allowed to get close enough to me to feel that way weren't people I wanted there for that.
This all feels even more complicated than it did before I got to this level... I thought this was supposed to be the easy part?
Intimacy And Growth
Here's the change that happened in me earlier- powerful unto itself:
The moment you realize you no longer want sex, romance, friendship, a date, whatever, and realize you want intimacy... knocks you completely on your behind, to put it nicely.
This is one of the most overwhelming moments of my entire life, and I don't have the first clue what it is I'm supposed to do.
The moment you realize you no longer want sex, romance, friendship, a date, whatever, and realize you want intimacy... knocks you completely on your behind, to put it nicely.
This is one of the most overwhelming moments of my entire life, and I don't have the first clue what it is I'm supposed to do.
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
A Woman Is Her Body
I've written about this concept before, but I caught myself expressing, albeit inwardly, sentiments that I have mentioned that I dislike in society.
Venus Williams was heavily criticized for her choice of one particular outfit during the U.S. Open. She had to continually adjust her tennis dress, according to reports. As I looked through pictures, I thought to myself that I hated how masculine this very attractive, very athletic, very motivated and determined woman looked while playing.
Then it struck me: her appearance is not, by a long shot, the important part.
This woman is among the best tennis players in the world, and I- and many others- are judging her choice of outfit? Seriously? How in the world is that my place?
On her worst days, she plays far better than most folks I know could ever dream of. Yet, we continue to expect women to appear feminine, classy, and well-dressed while doing some of the most physically, and I'd be willing to bet emotionally, demanding tasks and competitions.
What are we thinking?!
Venus Williams was heavily criticized for her choice of one particular outfit during the U.S. Open. She had to continually adjust her tennis dress, according to reports. As I looked through pictures, I thought to myself that I hated how masculine this very attractive, very athletic, very motivated and determined woman looked while playing.
Then it struck me: her appearance is not, by a long shot, the important part.
This woman is among the best tennis players in the world, and I- and many others- are judging her choice of outfit? Seriously? How in the world is that my place?
On her worst days, she plays far better than most folks I know could ever dream of. Yet, we continue to expect women to appear feminine, classy, and well-dressed while doing some of the most physically, and I'd be willing to bet emotionally, demanding tasks and competitions.
What are we thinking?!
Monday, October 4, 2010
Seeing ☆☆☆ Stars
"You are a child of the universe
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here." -Max Ehrman
I have to stop assuming anyone who appears to have good intentions is weak, or hiding something. I have to stop comparing everyone who loves me to my mother, and assuming they have a hidden agenda. I have to learn to accept the feelings I have, put a name to them, and let them be, without insisting on trying to change them or change my life to accomodate/assuage them. I'm allowed to feel things, and they don't have to change my life.
And, if that isn't enough for one lunch break....
I have consistently looked at myself as somehow being less than others, somehow inferior or incapable of meeting the same personal criteria as the rest of the world... This has especially applied in my relationships. This wouldn't be a huge thing, if seeing oneself as inferior didn't automatically give one permission, or even all-out "reason" to look at oneself as consistently being the victim. If you are inferior, weaker, less capable, less intelligent/strong/worthy of love/beautiful/whatever, you are automatically the only one who can be taken advantage of. You are automatically too low on the totem pole to be able to bring the other person down. You are automatically the victim.
I have said a million times that I'm not a victim, I am a survivor. Yet, my view of myself and my corresponding actions have not reflected this. I have treated myself as a victim and, therefore, I am a victim.
I have not truly given myself permission to exist as I want to.While I can freely admit that I find men of all races attractive, I have lied to myself and others and insisted I am 'equal opportunity' when it comes to dating. The fact of the matter is, I like non-White men, especially Black men. I can reason this to death, or I can simply accept that this is the group of people I am most comfortable with. It does not make me a less diverse person for knowing what I want, or who I like. I still like many types of music, am interested in many cultures, and am an intelligent person who sees a lot of things differently than the majority. I am simply a woman who knows what she likes.
I am no longer a victim. I am equal to the stars, and have no less right or reason in this world than them. This may be another long road, but this is a breakthrough I need to follow through on.
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here." -Max Ehrman
I love this line. Something is processing in my head, since I've gotten the universal boot in the arse to forgive myself, to let Danger go, and to try- really try- to move on. I'm hurting and sad today, and I haven't been able to shake it. Doing some writing, trying to get a clearer understanding of these feelings during lunch, (although I suspect some of it is PMS) I had a bit of a breakthrough....
I have to stop assuming anyone who appears to have good intentions is weak, or hiding something. I have to stop comparing everyone who loves me to my mother, and assuming they have a hidden agenda. I have to learn to accept the feelings I have, put a name to them, and let them be, without insisting on trying to change them or change my life to accomodate/assuage them. I'm allowed to feel things, and they don't have to change my life.
And, if that isn't enough for one lunch break....
I have consistently looked at myself as somehow being less than others, somehow inferior or incapable of meeting the same personal criteria as the rest of the world... This has especially applied in my relationships. This wouldn't be a huge thing, if seeing oneself as inferior didn't automatically give one permission, or even all-out "reason" to look at oneself as consistently being the victim. If you are inferior, weaker, less capable, less intelligent/strong/worthy of love/beautiful/whatever, you are automatically the only one who can be taken advantage of. You are automatically too low on the totem pole to be able to bring the other person down. You are automatically the victim.
I have said a million times that I'm not a victim, I am a survivor. Yet, my view of myself and my corresponding actions have not reflected this. I have treated myself as a victim and, therefore, I am a victim.
I have not truly given myself permission to exist as I want to.While I can freely admit that I find men of all races attractive, I have lied to myself and others and insisted I am 'equal opportunity' when it comes to dating. The fact of the matter is, I like non-White men, especially Black men. I can reason this to death, or I can simply accept that this is the group of people I am most comfortable with. It does not make me a less diverse person for knowing what I want, or who I like. I still like many types of music, am interested in many cultures, and am an intelligent person who sees a lot of things differently than the majority. I am simply a woman who knows what she likes.
I am no longer a victim. I am equal to the stars, and have no less right or reason in this world than them. This may be another long road, but this is a breakthrough I need to follow through on.
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Beautiful
Some part of me doesn't want to let go of him.
I know I should say my goodbyes and try to move on, but some part of me clings to his memory, clings to his love, clings to the thought of redemption.
That part of me knows that if I let him go, though, I have no excuse any more, I can't give up on a relationship after this. If I make the choice to let someone in again, that I won't have the ability to excuse myself for letting them go, not after this.
Having someone's love, questioning their love, and losing them- once to your own stupidity and once to death- is incredibly painful. Some part of me just wants to hold on to his life, and his love and never let anyone in to avoid any more pain like this.... I just want him back, and I can't seem to let it go.
I have some really great guy friends in my life that, normally, I'd be all about dating because they're just such wonderful men... Instead, though, I'm keeping them at a distance and pushing them away because I don't want to let anyone in....
Something's got to give.
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