CONTROL

You wanted it. Here ya go. You can have it. I wrapped it up for you in a nice, shiny package covered in hope, despair, confusion, and anger....the tag on the package says "Fuck you for all the bullshit you threw my way".  Gee, you must of been really scared when I took it from you!  Cause I'm guessing the silence means you want it back now??  It must.  You sure work damn hard to get it from me.  Funny how someone would work so hard to get something they have very little appreciation for.  So here it is in a package just for you... disguised as a vulnerable friendly message.  I hope that when you open it up it makes you feel foolishly warm & fuzzy inside; secure in your manhood again. I hope it makes you swell with pride at what a fucking asshole you are. 

Something needed to be said... I had to write something down tonight. I just wasn't sure what.  I was hoping my fingers would just type out the right words...  I'm at a loss.  Again, I come to what feels like a turning point.  It continues to amaze me how I can come to a confident decision only to feel the crushing pain of guilt. I've been thinking a lot lately about what motivates people.  We all have motivators otherwise we'd cease to function.  The problem is that the primary motivator of women is guilt.  A good friend of mine calls this "the guilt gene".  It's incredibly true when you think about it... think about how much we as women function out of pure guilt.  We worry constantly, we analyze, we "overthink" as men like to say or make things too complicated. Are we doing this because we are secretly or even unknowingly struggling with the guilt we feel inside??  I don't know...I have no real answers.  I just know that although it can serve a positive purpose, guilt can also be binding; imprisoning you in your own actions & consequences.  It can be suffocating and stifling; an emotional death. 

"And the day came when the risk it took to remain tight inside the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom."       ~Anais Nin

Me

I’m probably the most analytical, “overthinking” person you could ever talk to. My brain never stops. I think I’m a pretty smart girl with an odd mix of book smarts, street smarts, and intuition. I have a really hard time being fake, this works for me and against me. Not much shocks me…seriously not much at all.  I have a lot of aggression and I’m not always sure where it comes from. Music is everything to me, it cures me, it heals me, it revives me.  I absolutely love movies, and I quote them in regular conversations. I tend to laugh when things get too serious, too crazy, or if I get too angry…I guess it’s a nervous habit?  Jokes that most people think are gross or inappropriate, I think are freakin hilarious.  I love to sleep.  I cuss a lot, but still refuse to cuss in front of my parents.  I’ve always been a little boy crazy.  I really like tattoos, and have three of em.  I’ll prob get a 4^th. I refuse to have regrets. I refuse to do what everyone else thinks I should.  I have opinions on just about anything, and I like mine the best.  I can argue any point when I want to, I was told growing up that I should be a lawyer, and I’ve been called “the great debater”.  I’m not really sure if that’s a good thing.  I’m super sensitive and many people have made me cry without ever knowing it. I think I’m hard to get to know, I’ve been told I act like a snob or a bitch, but in reality I’m just really reserved and shy.  Once you get to know me you see a totally different side that most people don’t even know is there.  I’m usually down for anything at least once… unless it involves heights.  I also hate surprises, even good ones.  I can out drink most people that I know.  Again, I’m not sure if that’s a good thing. I try to embrace all experiences good and bad.  Cause the good feels good, and the bad just makes you stronger anyway.  I’m pretty controlling, territorial, and possessive.  But with that comes a world of good intentions, loyalty, passion, and usually love.  I’ve had more jobs then I can really count, I often forget about one or two of em.  When I was younger I was definitely an impulsive little thing. I’ve outgrown that…mostly.  I have a soft spot for animals, and I can’t bare to watch those ASPCA commercials with Sarah Mclachlan singing (depressing!!).   I always wanted to be a mother, and I’m thankful that God blessed me with that privilege.  My faith in God was instilled in me from birth, and has remained a huge part of my life. But I don’t think it’s my personal mission to bring others to Jesus, and I don’t think that only one denomination is going to Heaven.  I’m also really embarrassed by the amount of people that call themselves Christian yet are so super judgmental and prejudiced.  I’m a pretty open minded person and pretty liberal, but I have my limitations as I think we all should.  Every day before school my dad told me “be a leader, not a follower”, I think I did a fairly good job of sticking to that.  I have a lot of responsibilities and a lot of titles, but at 31 I’m still kinda searching for who I am.   For now I am all these things, made up in part by my experiences, my choices, the consequences of those choices, the people that I have let in my life, the people that showed up unexpectedly, the ones who stayed, the ones who left, but mostly because I don’t know how to be anything other than this.

To Anonymous Woman in Her 20's

I hear you with your big dreams….I wanted those things once too. Young enough to dream it, and just old enough to have convinced yourself you can make it happen. The man, the house, babies. The part of me that still believes in dreams, hope, and love wants to be excited with you, and smile for you; basking in the glow of what’s to come. But the part of me that’s hurt, exhausted, and a little jaded wants to tell you about how it can all come crashing down on you one day if you aren’t careful. And how you might get so caught up in fighting to keep your dream alive, it never quite being just how you pictured, that you’ll lose yourself. And those big dreams will move just a little further out of reach again…

Let Her Cry

"Let her cry..if the tears fall down like rain

Let her sing...if it eases all her pain

Let her go...let her walk right out on me

And if the sun comes up tomorrow

Let her be...let her be."

Hope...friend or enemy?

Why do we hang on so tightly to people that aren't really good for us?  I guess everyone is different, but some of us just have a much harder time letting go.  Whether it be old boyfriends, a man/woman that did us wrong, a one sided friendship .... there is nothing to gain from the toxicity!  The only thing I can figure is that those of us who do it are just clinging to hope.  Hope that one day it will be better or different; that somehow the person or the dynamics of the relationship will change.  I've always thought of hope as a good thing; it is what has gotten me through so many rough situations in my life.  But the older I get the more I realize that hope has a very ugly side.  Hope leads me down paths I shouldn't take.  Hope smiles so warm and invitingly, yet makes promises that it just can't keep. I am a fool.  I desperately cling to the toxicity because I stupidly have hope.

untitled III

Do you ever stop to wonder why I look lighter, happier, seem freer? It’s because my shackles were cut loose. I no longer carry the responsibility burden of constantly tending to your needs, allowing your emotions to trump mine; helping to pick you up, dust you off, and give you the pep talk to go back out there and face the big bad world only to turn around myself and face an empty room. Don’t get me wrong, I get the significance of loving, caring, encouraging, supporting, and even being responsible for another human being, but I gave birth to those two; they’re mine and it’s unconditional. Unfortunately my feelings for you were not.

dissolution of marriage

she emerges from his shadow... her light shining brighter than before

Loneliness

My old companion…

an enemy in disguise.

She curled around me at night to sit with me in misery…

causing my tears to fall;

the emptiness filled with her presence.

She does not make a sound; she has no voice…

only the silent agony.

I met her when I was young;

but when he found me she disappeared …

The day she returned

I recognized her right away

as she stood there;

even with him in the same room she taunted me.

And now?

Her very presence swallows me whole.

untitled II

Distractions, distractions, distractions.....

At some point I'm gonna have to face being alone with my thoughts.