There is a reason why mom asked you to chew your food...

Greetings blog!  How be ye?  I be ok.  Had an intense discussion with the husband this morning.  In conclusion, I asked him what he needed from me.  He said not to worry about him.  Yeah, ok.  Since I have decided to stop worrying about things I guess he is included.  Overall, I hope he got the message today.  I hope he understands why I am always on his ass.  For the first time in a long time, we are ok right now.

I find it interesting how I got so lost in the darkness so long ago so much so that I let it decide how my relationship was going to be.  Knowing now that I can decide that is comforting.  I am already seeing the effects of positive thinking, feelings, and vibes.  I can actually look at him without fear now, without judgement.  I can look him in the eyes right now and talk to him.  I am not sure the tone of everything I am saying is positive but at least I can do that much.  That is the universe granting my wish, ladies and gentlemen.  It is also my gratitude for the wonderful person that my husband is paying for itself.  I am grateful for his heart, his cuteness, his smell, his laugh, his smile, etc.  Although, I just tried to convince him that chewing his food ten times and swallowing is bad for him.

Universe, please encourage my husband to chew his food well!!!!  I just got done explaining to him why it's important.  Hopefully it will set it.  Wait...TS style...*clears throat* My husband is aware of the digestive functions of his body and assists his digestion is the best way possible by making healthy food choices, chewing his food well, eating several meals a day, etc.  Well, that feels better.  Anywho, I really need to get ready for work.  I have to pack, dress, and make some salad.  See you in the another city!

Creating, Recreating, Discreating...oy vey!

Greetings and salutations!  It has been a couple days since I had a huge spiritual breakthrough and, well, all is well in the world.  I will continue on this path for the rest of my life.  Heh, I just found it interesting that I have said something I will dof the rest of my life and it doesn't frighten me.  Actually, it comforts me the way God's presence does.  God is the universe.  God is energy.  God is Power.  God is grace.  God is mercy.  God is perfect. God is me.  Therefore, I am the universe.  I am energy.  I have power.  I have mercy.  I come from grace.  I am perfect.

I have decided to end all worry and stress in my life.  When I look back over my life and think about the times when I let, worry, fear, and stress run the show, I was not happy.  In this mental, emotional, physical, financial, and spiritual state I am in, I feel complete happiness and peace.  I sometimes feel like a work in progress but I am only 27.  I say that not to give my ego the power to decide I don't deserve it now or I have to wait until a certain age to experience bliss.  Bliss is now because I create it in my universe!  In hearing the word bliss these days, I see how I have never really used it to describe any moment in my life.  I guess I secretly thought bliss was a bad thing.  Yet, as a divine child of God, I deserve to live in bliss and abundance!  

So, I am a creator, I have known that for a while now.  I realized that I also created the issues I have with my marriage by stressing and worrying about so much that I sent the wrong desires and and energy into the universe.  Now that I know to send the right ones, I call upon patience to see me through correcting my actions now.   Writing this has made me realize that I wait on no one but me to make things happen.  Yet and still, I still bothered by some things with my husband.  I don't create that in saying it, I observe it.   

Why is it that I can't seem to just let him live his life without being irritated by his lack of self love and appreciation?  Does he not accept that it is him that has placed him here?  No one else can determine your life for you.  I can not determine your life for you and I don't want to.  I realize in my new enlightenment that I don't want to determine how his life goes for him.  I feel an unattraction to him when he sits around and waits for me to make things happen.  I sat around and waited for him to do things that just weren't on his mind.  So, what was on his mind? What has been on his mind?  There were times where I would look at his existence as non-existent.  As if I just imagined him up for what I needed at the time.  A blank canvas.  I don't want a blank canvas.  I want a person who lives for his/herself.  I want someone who knows they decide their own destiny.  I realized as I got closer to me that I didn't like who he was.  Universe, I realize I can create him as I want him, but I would rather he create himself as he wants himself.  I would rather he seek to please himself fully and not half heartedly in the methods he had chosen.  I would rather him do tasks to please himself and not me.  I don't want to be hurt by this.  (You mean to tell me he will clean the bathroom and do laundry if I create it in my heart and mind?!?!?!? But even after he's does it, is it ever enough?)

I have to say what I really want here.  I accept that I have created my environment.  What environment now would I create that would make me happy in this situation?  I don't want to create a person perfect for me.  That person should already exist.  Here is the other issue I have: maybe I have realized I don't want the perfect person.  Maybe I just want me.  Is that what I have created?  

The use of language in this way of living is so important.  You have to be careful to send the right energy into the universe.  Since I am so uncertain, the universe has to try to filter through my mumbo jumbo and pick up on what I really want.  It's not hard work, it's just new work.  I am adjusting to it and I get better and better at it every day.  I have to say my husband is on the same level as I am and feel it at the same time.  I don't hope for it, I create it.  I don't wait for it, it is now.  For a woman who has spent her entire life confirming her impatience, this is definitely an interesting feat to conquer.  Yet, it is already conquered.  See, this is a tricky business, lol.  I am willing to invest though!

Tell me what you want, what you really really want

Ok, so I just finished watching The Secret and boy did it impact my thinking.  The great part is that I have known this for a long time now and haven't applied.  What am I waiting on?  My world will start right now.  This blog is an exercise I am going to conduct.  I have listed all the things I want in my now and it will happen to me.  I can't wait and I am sooo excited.  I will keep this original list like it is and as time goes on I will check off when I have received these things.  I am sooo excited.  Making this list was so fun!  Not because it's fun to dream.  Dreaming if fun and I do a lot of.  However, creating is soooo much more fun than dreaming and I feel like I am actually creating.  I am shocked I have limited myself to only dreaming and not creating.  If yan can cook, so can you!

I am so happy and grateful now for my life, love, healthy organic food, my $251,000,000 check, my wonderful hoouse looking over the lake, my fitness and wellness center, my healthy family, my chica's happiness and health, my fit and healthy body, my husband's fit, healthy, and sexy chocolate body, my husbands wonderful dream job, my very well behaved and beautiful cat Onyxia, my cool bicycle, my rollerblades, my international flying benefits, my college degree, my trip to Disney World, my constant vision, my healthy and long natural hair, my beautiful and comfortable living room set, my air conditioner, my new knife set, my blender, my shredder, my kitchen aid, my ktichen island and storage, our new car, my garden, our trips to the movies, my new flight bag, my student loans are paid, my flying, Luis's pilot license, the Esthero concert in chicago, my trip to Korea, Dubai, and Disney World, my flica luck, more blog readers and members, my book. (explain how I want my life to be in every area in the present tense)

I am most grateful for God's many blessings, his power, and his wisdom that he gave to me when he made me.  I am so grateful that everything I need and want the universe is providing for me.  I am going to keep this list with me wherever I go.  I am going to live, eat, and breathe it!  Glory be to God, the father, Allah, Jehovah, Jah, Elohim, Yaweh, etc. etc.

A Divine Creator of the Universe...That's Me!!!

What good news today!  My dreams have been dark of late (LOTR reference...sorry, had to do it).  I guess I learned the unofficial secret about two years ago but I didn't apply it for and not to the things I truly wanted.  I am watching The Secret now on netflix and I want to do it the right way this time around.  I am not sure why I let myself get to the dark place again.

Did you ever know that you were destined for greatness?  I mean, seriously ever knew in the bottom of your heart that you were going to shake the world.  That one day you would lead others down a path of goodness for humanity.  That there would be something wonderful you would contribute to society that would bring about change.  I have known this my whole life and I have been afraid of it.  I have admittedly been mediocre.  I just feel something so powerful inside of me that it scares me.  It's overwhelming.  I have always been hesitant toward things that seemed like they were too good.  I suppose I felt undeserving of great things.  I suppose I have nothing would be given to me and that everything I wanted, I would have to work hard for.  That I would have to earn it over time.

According to The Secret I have been doing this all wrong.  All the things I want, I can create and the universe will hear me.  Now apparently things can get lost in the frequency of transmission so you have to be careful what you think and feel.  I have been telling myself and my husband that I have created my misery yet what have I done to discreate it or create a new energy in me? One that is filled with light, hope, greatness, divinity, and love!  And why does a fear of failing or not being good enough always creep in on the tails of these thoughts?  And where is my faith?  True faith!  In myself and God that lies within me?

Yesterday I went for a wog (walking and jogging...day one of training for a marathon...maybe I will blog about it).  Sometimes I hesitate to wear certain clothing for fear of the attention I would get from the pig men outside.  After leaving my apartment I had been gawked at and spoken to rudely by about 3 guys in less than 5 minutes.  After wogging for about 22 minutes I stopped to meditate and clear my mind through the sounds of the environment.  I felt great afterwards.  I felt closer to faith.  Nothing could get to me then and would you know that on my way back home I had no gawkers or rude advancements?  I realize now after watching part of The Secret that I created all of that yesterday, for the good or the bad.  That my fear is a feeling that the universe will pick up on and use against me as I let it. What a revelation!

I am going to finish watching the rest of this film and perhaps get back to you.  I am also work on a list of things that I want.  This is gonna be great!  Epic!  Life changing and altering!

I Am Not My Hair: The Natural Hair Rat Race

Enough is enough!!! I do not want to be apart of a group of people who are so effing ignorant.  I have read several articles and blogs today with so much negativity surrounding natural hair and letting people touch it.  When will hair just be hair and people just people?  Why is it that natural girls focus so much on the ideologies behind natural hair and never rise about the ignorance? Here's a a bit of background.

My Hair Story 

I remember getting my first perm.  I was young, maybe 6 or 7 and it was late at night.  I was sitting in a chair in the living room.  I remember there was a lot of commotion amongst the adults but I didn't really know what was going on.  The next thing I remember was sitting with this cold burning white stuff on my head.  Everyone around me was happy so I was happy too.  Even happier with the results.  My hair was straight like all of my tv heroes.  Well, I don't remember exactly how I felt but I am sure I was happy.  Who wouldn't be?

The next few years were just bad hair.  By the time I turned ten, half of the little hair I had begin to break off.  It was so bad that I had to get a hair cut.  I must have had three or four inches of hair left after this was done.  I wonder if my mom wondered why my hair broke off?  I hated this awkward time in my life.  My hair was horrible not to mention I began my period too.  What a terrible time!  My mother stop doing my hair around this time too and I don't really know why.  All I know is that I was ponytailing it for years.  Kids are already a bit insecure so having big feet, short hair,  boobies (at ten), a strange nose, and becoming a woman was all too much for me.

It wasn't until high school that I got better at doing my hair, got over my big feet, and accepted my strange nose as unique.  I still wasn't the most confident woman but I was definitely a work in progress.  I wore a ponytail for the first couple years religiously and still received perms every three months.  At least my mom didn't let us perm our lives away as badly as most other girls.  Another advantage I had was that we washed our hair every week which sadly is not normal for most other girls (now, I am talking about curly and kinky hair people of course).  It definitely helped but the perm was still slowly breaking it off.  I started wearing my hair down and straight my junior and senior year.  I always got compliments from older women about how nice and thick my hair was and that is looked healthy.  The women in my family have very thick beautiful hair!

I remember always loving the feel of my scalp in between perms.  My hair felt nice and soft and fun.  Right before every perm I wondered what my own hair looked like.  I actually don't recall ever seeing before in it's natural state.  I began to wonder what was so bad about it that I needed to have a perm.  My curiosity sat there until the summer before sophomore year in college.  It was during my freshmen year I decided not to get perms anymore.  I didn't realize I was transitioning because I didn't know what I was doing had a word.  Initially I didn't have big motives to go natural other than I liked the way my hair felt and how it made me feel.  So of course, I decided to do some heavy research about going natural (I always like to research to make the best decision on anything).

I found pretty interesting information involving natural hair and a movement behind it.  I learned many things such as how the European standard of beauty weighs heavily on the world.  I learned about the rat race that women with naturally curly and kinky hair put themselves into to reach this European standard of beauty.  It's not just here in the good ole U.S. of A that curly and kinky haired women are going through extremes to straighten their hair.  I later noticed this first hand in my husband's country.  Women go to the salon every week, sometimes everyday, to get their hair straightened with intense heat (the Dominicans make the Egyptians look like pansies in the hair department).  I remember being told by one of my husband's cousins that if I went to work with my hair like it is, they would send me home.  I thought women where I lived were bad about washing their hair enough (some women are so scared to wash the straight out they go a long time without washing...how nasty) but I have seen and smelled dirt and dandruff in some women's hair in his country and they will hold on to that straight hair until it's as stiff as a board.



Natural Hair High Horse


Here is where most natural hair people get stuck and never advance to the next level.  I highlighted these paragraphs because it is a way of thinking I don't let determine how I walk anymore.  It doesn't mean that some of the things I learned are not true.  I just believe now that it perpetuates the same ignorance this natural hair movement is so upset about it.


This has to do with the racial implications in going natural as well as an identity crisis.  I, too, was a victim of this line of thinking.  This is the ignorance that plagues that natural hair community.  A lot of people that go natural go through this sort of anti-everything white man phase.  We get mad when we learn the truth about how and why we got lead down the path of creamy crack.  Initially we question our caregivers like, damn mom, why did you do this to me?  But the parents get excused for their ignorance because obviously they couldn't help themselves at the time.  They were just doing the best they could or what they knew to be right (MESSAGE! Lol, Don't be a Menace movie reference.  Sorry folks, but the parents are guilty too.  Accept it and move on with your life).  So since we love our parents (how many of you naturals out there asked your parents why they gave you a perm?) we don't blame them.  Instead, we jump on the white man (much easier target) whose years of miseducation and oppression lead us down this path.  We feel so enlightened and superior now, especially since the power is back in our hands.  


Now our hair becomes a political statement.  Fuck the man and fuck his straight hair standard of beauty!  Oh, natural hair girls hate straight hair and to straighten you hair is blasphemy.  It is assimilationism.  It is a failure and a step against the natural hair movement.   I am a rebel in the movement and I am not going to take your shit any more.  I am going to let this hair scare you!  Lol, boy did I experience some interesting reactions from people after going natural and not just from the white folk.  I was too black for black people and a threat to the whites.  Good times!  I was enjoying every minute of my rebellion!  I even got to the point where I started to look down on all black girls who didn't embrace their natural hair.  Oh, and I loved their classic excuse, "your hair looks nice because you have good hair but I couldn't do that shit.  My hair is too nappy."  WTF?  First of all, you can NEVER be too nappy (I still agree with that) And wait, I have good hair?  What is the good hair standard? Oh yeah, Tia and Tamara Mowry or Mya.  That is as good as black girls would say hair is if you were black.  I definitely didn't have hair like that but I thought all these permed black girls were ignorant wannabe whites anyway and were not on my intellectual advanced level of life: Natural Hair Bitch!  


Now I didn't go black militant or anything as I had learned in my African American Studies (AAS) courses that ethnocentrism is bad.  But I was kinda there.  My AAS classes taught me many things.  I realized I didn't know who I was or where I came from.  And it wasn't just me.  There were generations of black people like this.  School didn't teach us.  Our history in this country starts after slavery.  I was searching for who I was and where I came from and my natural hair brought me closer to that.  I got even more upset at the white folk who took me away from everything I knew and for the miseducation I had received my whole life.  There is a sense of identity you receive when going natural and you cling to it because you feel its closer to who you are.  Suffice it to say, I was so upset at the socio-economic status of black people in this country created by none other than the white man.  Even more interesting at the time: I wasn't exactly the black people champion.


I can be quoted saying to my college roommate that I hate black people.  Yeah, I said that.  Why did I feel that way?  Well, it's kinda how you get upset with your family.  You hold you family to a higher standard than most people.  You love them unconditionally but when they fuck up you are more upset with them than you would be at any other regular person.  Black people were pissing me off at college.  How you gonna try to be hood at college?!?!?!  Nigga, you are at college.  Your hood status left when you accepted the offer to go so give it up, lol.  There were so many ignorant black folk at my school.  Husslin, fighting, doing drugs, cheating at school, and sexin everything that walks.  I had a higher standard for my family and this shit was embarrassing.  So, I said, I hate black people in the same way I would say I hate my sister for stealing my dress.   


Oh it gets better though.  I had never been around so many white people in my life and I discovered that I didn't care to be around them either.  This was also very interesting as I was accused of acting white my whole life by ignorant black folk.  They obviously had never met real white people before and if they had, they would have never accused me of such things!  So, I clung to black folk.  It was more comfortable for me.  I didn't have many friends in college and the ones I had were never white, black, brown, or any other color.  They were just people.  I was raised to see people as people.  Even when I saw racism it was a racist person, not a racist color.  I was neither on the black side or the white side of things.  I felt like I didn't belong anywhere.  Well, maybe I thought I was Latina since I love everything about Latin American culture but that is for another blog.

I went through a depressing period in my life and decided to perm my hair because I got bored (I always do something drastic to my hair when it gets pass my shoulders).  I decided to do a kiddy perm because I thought it was better, lol.  In 2006 I permed my hair and noticed the different treatment I received from people.  I didn't dislike or like the the way I was being treated, it was just different.  But I didn't perm my hair for anyone else.  I permed it for me.  I didn't like who I was and wanted to change myself to get away from all darkness I was experiencing.  Perming my hair didn't change shit for me and that was when I realized I was not my hair.  It was such a revelation for me.  I felt so silly all those years letting my hair define who I was and judging others so harshly from a hair standard.  Hair became fun and experimental for me.  I tried all sorts of things and knew I was going to go natural again.  I felt awakened for the first time ever.  I went natural again in 2008 and it was a lot better this time around because I was changing into me!

Why is it that we have to make hair a racist issue? That is probably the most ignorant way of thinking I have heard of.  I am ashamed of the attitude I developed in the beginning of my natural journey.  I was not raised to look at people for the color of their skin or the texture of their hair.  Remember Martin Luther King?  You think he would want us naturals to be about peace or focus on difference?  Now, I am not saying we should disregard acts of clear discrimination in our society.  There are still lots of people out there who continue to treat people poorly because skin color, hair texture, facial features, sexual preference, and gender.  That shit is not ok.  In most cases it is a case of miseducation, an insecurity, and fear on the part of the oppressor.

How I Handle The Ignorance
There is a lot of sarcasm in here.  Are you cool enough to catch it?

With my job as a flight attendant, I fly all over the country and see all sorts of people.  I work out of Minneapolis, MN and well, aside from the refugees and a few U.S.A. Black Americans, most of the folk have Scandinavian and Norwegian ancestry.  Most of the people I work with live in the MN bubble.  I have had people at my job tell me they didn't know who I was because I changed my hair style.  WTF???  Seriously?  One day I was doing a training course and stood in front of this women for 9 hours.  At the end of class I asked her about a personal experience we shared together and it was in that moment she finally recognized who I was.  That was the most ignorant shit I ever experienced in my life.   They don't see they are doing anything wrong but I loved to inform them of the ignorance.  Bet they don't pull that shit again.  Oh, it's not like I died my hair or anything.  It's as simple as wearing a fro one day and twists the next day.  Most of natural people it seems would pull the race card out and get mad.  I don't feel like wasting my time being angry.  I would rather be peaceful and educate the ignorant.

I had this one lady at work, a straight hair light skin woman, tell me I was the "whitest black girl she knew"  (that was a new one...never heard that before...folk getting a little too comfortable but that is good).  At first, I got mad like, bitch, you want me to show you how black I can be?  She was laughing when she said this to me.  I put my ego aside and told her very seriously but peacefully that "I am the blackest black girl she knows because I am educated about who I am and I tear down the stereotypes you think you know.  I am black because that is how God made me.  Don't get it twisted because I speak properly due to an education and I know how to get along with folk."  She never said that shit again and she started treating me with a lot more respect afterwards.  She was ignorant and I used knowledge to to educate this woman who thought she could say whatever the hell she wanted.  That is how you handle that situation.  You don't make it about black and white.  You make it about truth and knowledge.  Bet she won't pull that one again.

I have people tell me all the time how they like my hair.  Lol, mostly on bad hair days too.  I think that shit is funny sometimes.  I also think that sometimes people are intimidated by it and don't know how to respond.   Sometimes people tell me they like my hair, that it looks nice, or that they wish their hair could do such funky things with their own hair.  I suppose if I put my racist vision goggles on I could see that they are truly putting me down in saying that.  Gee, I wonder if you can order those on Ebay?  Anywuzzle, for the time being I just see it as how it's presented to me and not make assumptions.  I love it when people ask me questions.  I am open to answering questions and telling people the truth, especially the straight hair women.  I have been told that they thought our hair was straight like theirs because that is all they see.  Some of them have no idea that we get perms to get our hair to look like theirs.  Everyone thinks the grass in greener on the other side because these same women tell me they wouldn't mind having my hair.  The grass that is greener is the grass that you water.

Ok, enough info and background.  Let's move on the reason why I was enraged enough to write this blog.  I read several articles today that really disturbed me.  These articles were about expressing mostly frustration when women with naturally curly and kinky hair are asked to have their hair touched by strangers or natural straight hair and light skin folk.  The response from the natural hair people are filled with anger, ignorance, and superiority.  I just don't understand the negativity around this.  Wait, you mean every time I have let someone touch my hair they were being racist and bringing me down?  Oh boy, I think I might lose my black card like that time I almost lost it for never having been to Red Lobster! Dun, Dun, DUN!!!!!!!!! AHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!  I am very disappointed in these individuals.  What the hell is so hard about you just taking the time to one, not assuming this is some act of racism against you, two, finding out why the person wants to touch your hair, three simply informing them of your reason for not wanting them to touch it in a peaceful manner, or four, just letting them touch your hair?   If you really get that upset about someone wanting to touch your hair, you may be too sensitive and you may have some underlying psychological issues that you should get checked out.

I have had people on the plane ask me to touch my hair.  One day while just walking through the cabin I had the cutest old man stop me in the aisle to ask me "how I got my hair like that?"  I told him, "I just put water on it and that is what it does."  He was so surprised and joyous.  He said, "it looked really pretty."  I thanked him.  He then asked to touch it.  I said, "of course!"  He then wanted to confirm that it just grew like that.  I told him, "I wear it the way God made it."  He said, "that is alright with me."  I guess it should have gone more like this.  Old white man stops me to ask how I got my hair like this.  I should have responded, "motherfucker it grow like this, you got a problem with that?" Or wait, bitchy flight attendant style:  I'm sorry sir, but does my hair offend you or seem like it is a part of the entertainment you paid for when you bought your ticket? Or wait, sweet flight attendant style: No sir, I'm sorry.  It's not allowed. Lmao!!!!  I also supposed when he said it was alright with him about the way God made it that it was socially ok to continue to wear my hair in that manner since a white man had approved of it.  Glad I got a pass on that one!  Phew!

One time while waiting for passengers to leave the plane, this little girl asked her mom, "Mommy, what's that on her head?"  She said it loud enough that half of the plane heard it.  I started laughing so hard.  The mom was kinda embarrassed and was red in the face.  Where was Bill Cosby in this moment???  So, the mom told the little girl, "it's her hair, sweetie."  The little girl, couldn't have been more than five years old, with the biggest look of shock on her face screamed, "It's her hair!?!?!?!?"  The whole back part of the plane started laughing as well as me.  I composed myself and looked at the little girl and confirmed that is was my hair and that is how it grows. She looked so interested in it.  Maybe this was the first time she had seen hair like that and/or skin my color.  I asked the little girl if she wanted to touch it.  She said a big no and got kinda scared.  I told her it was ok and she just smiled and hid behind her mommy.  She probably thought my hair was going to eat her or something.  Now, here is how I probably should have handled it after the girl asked her mom the question. I should have told the mom that she was bad mother for raising her child in such a racist manner and that it was rude of her to have such an outburst.  I should have also assumed the child and her mom were racist people by being so fascinated with my hair.  Right?

Oh, just one more story although I have many I could tell.  This one involves my friend The Fish. So Fish loves my hair.  Lol, Fish's soul was obviously from Africa in a past life because she always feels more at home when she goes there.  Fish in this lifetime has straight hair and light skin and her family comes from Europe.  So fish always wants to touch my hair but whenever she does, she does it quickly at first but then really goes for it after a while.  I always wonder what her hesitation is.  I suppose she feels like somewhere on the inside there is something wrong with how she is so fascinated by it and wants it for herself.  I always give her the green light to go crazy.   I guess this whole time Fish was touching my hair that Exodus chapter 21 had some truth to for this Lutheran.  I didn't realize this whole time that by letting my very dear friend and sister touch my hair that I was accepting  my role as her slave forever!!! Dun, dun, DUN!!!!!!! AAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!

I touch Fish's hair all the time.  I remember the first time I really touched naturally straight hair, not The Fish but my Chica, and it felt weird.  Not the hair but the experience of touching it.  I also wondered if I was making the person uncomfortable. Here is what I learned from touching naturally straight hair.  I was curious about it.  I wanted to know how it felt.  I wanted to know what all the fuss was about over this naturally straight hair.  After touching it, I decided to take my hair any day of the week over the straight hair.  What I didn't see at time was that my heart wasn't as pure as I thought it was.  I made so many judgements about the texture of straight hair, finding reasons to place above or beneath that of curly and kinky hair.  I immediately didn't want to like it.  In the end, it was just hair, just like mine and that it's existence or texture should not bare any weight in how I feel about people or hair.  Touching my friend's hair helped me see her as a person.  I know that sounds silly but it's true.  It didn't matter that our hair was different.

It's Not Just Hair In The End...
I know, that kinda sounds like it contradicts my "I am not my hair" philosophy but read on, you will understand.

Now to talk a bit about hair and identity.  Now, I mentioned earlier how on my natural hair journey I realized I had some identity issues.  When you go natural, you become more of who you are.  You begin to learn things about yourself that you wouldn't have learned with the permed hair.  You get closer to your roots.  Most women go through phases of frustration with natural hair care.  We always have days in which the work load is a pain in the ass.  Perhaps what is really happening is that a new part of yourself is being revealed and new life lesson has to be learned.  Women who give in and give up on their natural hair (kinda like when I gave myself a perm again), give up on getting closer to who they are.  Sometimes the journey to you can be scary, especially when you have been through a trauma. It is the you realize how deep the hair journey really is.  It is very important to stay strong during this part of the journey.  It is so much more fulfilling when you come out of this phase.  The question you have to ask yourself when you are struggling or are tempted to perm it all away again is, why do I really want to get a perm?  Or, why am I struggling? Is it time?  Is it money?  Is it social pressure?  What part of my natural hair do I feel is too much of hassle?  This question translates to, why is it that I find it difficult to invest in who I am naturally, the way God made me?

Sadly, most naturals get stuck in the ethnocentric way of thinking and never see their natural hair journey as a spiritual one.  It's not just hair, it's you.  It is as simple as accepting the shape of a strange nose or big feet.  There is a reason why God put you here like this and that is a soul lesson you must learn.  I am such an impatient person and my hair makes me have patience.  It is one of the best patience lessons I have in life and I know that is one of my biggest soul lessons to learn.  (My cat and my husband are also testing my patience right now, lol).  My biggest patience lesson is being patient with myself. I always want to move so quickly in life.  When will I slow myself down?  Have no fear, natural hair is here!!  Natural hair can makes me healthy all around.  Natural hair means natural living.

For all you people out there getting all upset and putting on those racist goggles.  Before you assume how someone else feels or thinks, look inside your own heart.  Are you the one creating this racist energy in the world?  What lesson can you learn from your reaction to responding in such a negative or hateful way to someone who is just simply ill-informed?  Why is it that you have not taken the knowledge you have gained about discrimination, racism, politics, natural hair care, etc. and shared it with the ignorant masses?  Have you not learned that education is the key to making change?  I pride myself on informing people of the truth.  I take every opportunity to face the ignorance in this society.  I face it head on by not getting lost in my ego but getting to people on a soul level.

Pa not my Pa: It's a family affair

My family and I are on the outs right now because I wanted to have a family meeting to discuss some problems people are having.  No one showed up so I am temporarily cut them off.  Well, not all of them.  I still talk to my sisters, grandma, and my little brothers.   They are ok in my book.  But the rest of them can kick rocks right now.  Kinda harsh to say about family, right?  Well, here's a little background.

My family has a problem communicating, and expressing emotions properly.  I have always been gifted in those areas so you can see my frustration.  Right now my family is really struggling.  We are expanding greatly in numbers but we are still poor.  My grand-daddy came up here to make a better life for the family and this is how we repay him?  Through, laziness,  complacency and mediocrity?  Shame on us, Williams family!  I know that we are better than where we are right now.  I have some tools that could really help everyone out but no one wants to listen to me and I am not surprised.

I am the middle child and well, you know what that means.  Starved for attention, right?  Not so much.  Looked over and ignored, right?  Not really but sometimes.  I guess I am not the typical middle child in some regards but I do have the advantages of that role like seeing other people fuck up and doing what I need to do to get out of dodge. In my house, I was the the peace maker or the goodie-two-shoes as my siblings would probably describe me. I hated to see people fight and argue and my family had its fair share of doing that!  I have always liked to help people.  It comes naturally for me.  My family needs help and I want to help them.  My only issue is that my family use to put me on a pedestal.  I also am very emotional and they can't get pass my tears sometimes to hear me out.  Not to mention I am always accused of wanting to be right.  Ugh, I hate that the most.  Just because I happen to be right about a lot of shit doesn't mean that is my goal =P

Communicating with these folk is stressful.  So much so that my ex thought it would be healthier if I got as far away from them as possible.  My ticket out was college! So, in choosing a college, I went as far away as I could to get away from them while still paying in-state tuition: SIUC (Go Salukis!).  And guess what?  Didn't miss them much at all!  In fact, it was relief to be away from all the noise and drama.  But my ex, I think, had other plans.  I was so closed off from my family after a couple years at school.  I didn't necessarily want to be estranged from them but that is what was happening, estranged just like he was from his family by his choice (if I had a dime for every moment of hind site I'd be one rich bitch).  It wasn't until my ex went psycho on me that I really saw the meaning and support of family.  I will never forget the lesson I learned from reaching out to them when in need. That being said, we still got issues.

Now, I am reading this book entitled Soul Lessons and Soul Purposes and it is very deep.  It is the key to living a full soulful life and I admit I have not read it is several months.  You have to take it in bits because it's mind blowing.  One of the mind blowing parts of this book is the part where it says your family is not your family: Pa not my Pa (The Color Purple reference for your n00bs).  When I read this, I felt so much relief.  Let me grab the book so I don't do it any injustice. I will quote the entire reference

Do not remain arrested in unresolved childhood dramas.  You are impacted by your family of origin because it is where you first learn your value, are introduced to relationships, and are given your earliest tools to navigate the world.  But eventually you must recognize your family's limitations and the ways in which you feel that they have wounded you, forgive them, and move on.  

Remember that your relatives are part of your soul school and that you have chosen them.  They create an incubator or a hothouse, so to speak, where you can grow your soul as quickly as possible, and they actually serve you very well.  However, your true parents are not here on this plane, but are the Divine Holy Father and Blessed Mother who created you. Your mom and dad are the scared vessels who give you passage to Earth school, and are to be respected and honored for agreeing to do this, but they are not your true origin.  

View your family as part of your soul's curriculum.  This will give you perspective and compassion and hopefully will motivate you to let go of any anger or grudges you have against them.  Love these people and realize that they are fumbling through Earth school just like you are.  As long as you are here, you all are students, learning together and from one another.  If you have realistic expectations of your family and everyone else, this will help you free yourself from the past and the future and begin to live in the moment.  

Wow, I mean, wow.  I don't know about you but my life was changed once again reading that.  I think this knowledge is especially helpful for people with really fucked up families.  It is some hard candy to swallow in the beginning, you know, that your soul was the one that decided to be placed in your situation and that God approved (once again, I will blog about life charts later, stay focused people) but after while, it is the most liberating and powerful knowledge you could ever possess.  Once you know that your soul, that you, decided to wear these shoes, you can determine how you life is going to go from here on out!

Anywuzzle, I am sure that if I weren't born into my family, I would not talk to anyone (me <----loner).   I feel obligated to have these people in my life because they are family but I do not agree with some of their choices and lifestyles.  Does that mean I just have to accept them because they are family?  That I have to deal with their shit day in a day out because we have the same blood? According to the soul lesson written above, NO!! I mean, I still love them. This doesn't have much to do with love.  I love them, I just don't like them all the time.  Love is accepting.  Love is unconditional.  Love is helping.  Right?  I love them.  Does loving them mean I have to force myself to accept their dirty ass house?  Who the fuck am I to judge?  Well, I wouldn't say I am judging.  My family is comprised of intelligent beautiful divine children of God and they have a choice in how they live.  Hell, they wrote the script!

Now let's not get too lost here.  Most of that was venting about my frustrations.  The text I quoted earlier mentions respecting my parents and I totally agree with that.  The hardest thing I think for most of us is accepting that these people we were born into are apart of our soul lesson and that we must learn those lessons to accomplish our goals in this lifetime.  For some reason whenever I think about the message from the book I always think about someone who was raped or abused by a family member or parent.  I think those individuals would have the hardest time with this knowledge. I think they have some of the biggest soul lessons to learn and that they are very brave and strong souls to write such an event in their chart.  Not that all souls write that type of event specifically, maybe they just write the lesson.  The point is, what a tough lesson to learn and when do you open yourself up to learning it?  I am grateful my bridge isn't that tough to cross.

While I have my family issues I must put aside my ego and focus on what is really important and that is learning my soul lesson and helping my family members learn theirs. That is much easier said than done but I know I have time to do it.  I think I will do it by writing each family member a letter.  I think they will communicate better that way since a face to face was obviously too much for them.  Just have to get over myself enough to make it happen.  Sigh...

Mommy Dearest: The Good, The Bad, And The Ugly!

I have never really been close to my mother.  We have had some really great moments but never close.  My sisters have a closer relationship with her.  I know there is a bit of choice that goes into that so why do I choose not to be close?  The first mentioning of my mother wasn't a pretty picture (Just read the opener...though the rest is pretty cool too >.<) Well, here is a little mommy background

The Good

My mom was a young mother.  She had her first child, big brother, at 17 and was pregnant and nursing for five years of her life!  Wow...  Sometimes when I see women on the bus with multiple children, I think of my mother so I don't judge.  Then again most of the kids I see have snotty noses, dirty clothes, and are misbehaving.  We were never like that.  We always looked nice and were well behaved.  My mother had a lot of help.

I grew up with my great grandfather (grand-daddy), and his two daughters, aunty and grandma, my mother's mother.  They were originally from down south so we had a bit of a Southern upbringing, spankings and all.  My mom is not the best housekeeper so the floor of the room that we all shared (execpt big brother, he slept with grand-daddy) was covered with a foot and a half worth of clothes.  Sometimes that was fun, most times it was a pain in the ass and embarrassing (we never had our friends over)!  We still had a good childhood despite the mess.

Our grandparents raised us and taught us life lessons while mom was working.  It was not easy for my mother having all those kids.  She worked her butt off to give us was we needed and we didn't want for nothing.  We were truly blessed.  When I was five, my mother gave us a new baby brother from step dad and then another one five years later and then one more eight years later.  My mom is crazy for having so many kids.  The only one she planned was the last one and he is spoiled rotten in bad way!  

The fondest memories of my mother from my childhood are mostly nice.  She would take us all over the city.  Going downtown was a big deal for most black kids but we did it so regularly, it was a way of life.  We went to every free city event there was.  Even when we didn't have money, our mom would find ways to have fun.  Tons of picnics and trips to the play ground and beach.  We loved playing piggy in the back of our house and my mom always hit the ball out of the lot! We were huge white sox fans so we went to a lot of games.  Sometimes my mom would fry chicken and bring it right into the park!  We love to go to six flags and ride all of the rides.  My mom loved horror movies and she didn't want us to be scared of shit that wasn't real so she trained us in the way of gore!  I <3 zombies!  

We had a picture of Jesus on the wall and he was white of course.  I asked my mom if God was white and she told me he was any color I wanted him to be.  So, God is purple (sorry to burst your bubble if you thought other wise).  My mother told me I can be whoever I wanted to be and she would still love me.  She told me I could be gay and it wouldn't matter.  She told me never to abort a baby and that she would help me raise a child...not that she would be ecstatic about it (my poor big sister tried that one out).

She always had us doing art at home like making christmas ornaments, sewing clothes, and crocheting (crocheting is what my mother and I share the most and the only time we bond).  She was an eighties hippie so I have fond memories of watching her work in the kitchen while dancing with us and singing to us Madonna, Bon Jovi or Prince.  She sent us to different high schools.  She accommodated my love for school and knew I was already hard enough on myself about most things.  She really knew who I was.  She let us choose our faith and I always thought that was cool.  Those are my best mommy memories. 

The Bad

My mother lies well, not pathologically, but well.  She is damn good at it.  I have seen her lie to so many people, including her family and people effing believe her.  She makes it look like an art.  I hate this part of her and big brother picked up her skill though not as clean.  I use to hate it when she was lying to me or the family.  I could see it in her eyes and still can.  I wonder if anyone else could.  Most of the time it was little things but I was against lying not matter the topic.  She didn't realize how seeing her lie would hurt me.  She only thought about the moment.  Lying to your kids about important shit is bad.  Little white lies will drown away.  Lying in front of your kids to other people...now that is something interesting and as I said, my mom is pro!

Now while I think her lying is bad,  let me just share one of the best lies my mother ever told.  We, mommy, the two sisters, and I, were in Tinley Park enjoying ourselves at a Backstreet Boys concert when we lit some sparklers during one of the songs.  Then boom, security came to us and asked us to step out for a minute.  We didn't understand at first.  We were lead to some security office and toward the entrance.  They were going to kick us out for using sparklers.  WTF!!

We were so sad, like on the verge of tears but not to fear.  My mom was on them like white on rice. She had them convinced she was apart of security at Comiskey Park or knew someone there.  Now, our bags were searched when we came in and they saw the fucking sparklers.  She informed them of this and commented on how shitty their security was followed by a threat of reporting them to someone (I think it was the head of security at Comiskey Park and she called this guy by his name).  Next thing I know, all of these dudes looked like they were going to shit their pants.  We were then escorted back into the concert by security and treated pretty VIP afterwards.  

They story is vague but I use to love seeing my mom in action like that.  She could get whatever she wanted.  Most of the people at the concert were wondering what happened to us.   My sister said outloud that we had an important phone call, lol.  Good times.  Now, to the poor part.  We were stuck in Tinley Park for the night.  No money for a hotel or cab and mommy didn't drive.  We slept at the train station on the benches.   Eventually we went to a little diner.  Mommy didn't have much money but we ordered a sandwich that we all split.  Best turkey sandwich I ever ate.   I cant still taste it!  We made the best of a bad situation and my mom was/is kinda good at that.   Besides, who could be pissed about sleeping outside after a BSB concert?  Mommy was there too and I know no one would try anything with her around.  She would go hard as a motherfucker!  

The Ugly

Here is where is gets tricky for me.  I was really pissed at my mom about the whole molestation issue.  I may blog about that later.  That story pretty much goes:  A repressed memory of being molested by an older cousin on my bio dad's side of the family resurfaced while riding the bus with my ex as he asked me about my sexual history.  All of a sudden these memories started fucking with my head so I tried to talk to my mom about it.  I thought what I was telling her would be news to her since I know any parent would not subject his/her child to an environment in which the child is being violated/harmed.  On the contrary, the first words out of my mother's mouth after I confessed the atrocity were, "I already knew."

WTF?!?!?!?!?  You gotta be kidding me, right?   Turns out she knew something happened or was happening but I suppose she didn't know details.  She didn't know it was happening to me...but she knew something happened to little sister.  At the time of her suspicions or facts, he told bio dad about it and he accused her of lying so I suppose she dropped it?  Either way, why didn't she ever ask us?  So many questions came to mind but I was just pissed.  We ended up arguing a bit toward the end of the convo because I told her she didn't understand or know what I was going through, something along those lines.  She then proceeded to physically attacking me while confessing to being raped by none other than dear old bio dad.  

Hold the mayo... What????  So, now it's about her and I should feel bad for her?  My mom had four kids with bio dad.  She kept trying to keep him by having his children but it didn't work.  My first thought was, which one of us was the result of the rape?  I did feel badly for her as I would any woman.  Especially a woman who has children with a man she accused of rape.  I can't imagine having to see that bastards face everyday.

The really disgusting part is that I don't know if I believe her.  I have always seen my mother as a strong woman and I just can't believe she would do nothing about it.  Then again, who would believe her if she kept going back to him.  I hated bio daddy after hearing that news although I kinda talk to him now.  Sometimes I foolishly want to ask him if he did it.  But that is my mother's life and she told me this in the worst way.  Had enough drama yet?  Well, there is loads more but the point to this is, ever since that incident happened, I haven't felt the same about my mother.  

Where do we stand now, well, since the family meeting didn't happen (you can reference that here), I am not happy with my mom.  Especially since she snapped on my over the phone about why she didin't need the family meeting.  My mother doesn't know how to express her emotions which has left her over stressed, overweight, sick, and depressed.  I feel bad for her.  She did too much too soon in her life and she is burnt out.

I know many things that could help her get back on her feet and live her true life.  I was going to share that with in the meeting but she got scared.  She is afraid to hear the truth.  She thinks she failed her daughters (boy am I tired of hearing that shit) when her daughters are her most successful children.  I think she realizes she didn't do so well in the mom department on some things.  In fact, I think it was my mother's goal to be more of our friend than our mom and she succeeded.  I remember feeling tender with her as a kid and I still have moments when I want to curl up next to her.  But she is not comfortable with that so I don't even think about it.  

I know what I have to do to strengthen our relationship but lately with all the other stress in my life I keep putting it on the back burner.  I know there is a soul lesson in here somewhere.  Step dad would love to think that we don't appreciate all our mother did for us.  That if we knew about all her sacrifices we would feel stupid for ever judging her.  I get it.  She gave up a lot and I am grateful.

But that doesn't mean it was ok for her to keep a nasty house, quit her job because she didn't like it or whatever the case and not be able to put food on the table or have a house phone for three years.  Hey, need to call 911? Go next door to the neighbors house (this was way before cell phones were popular or cheap).  Sometimes we had to do homework under candle light because the light bill didn't get paid.  My mom would rather spend her last  on renting a movie and ordering us pizza because she was thinking about the moment.  If she asked us what we wanted, we would have said, turn the fucking phone and light on!  Guess that shit still pisses me off a bit.  

Bio dad showed up every six months and that hurt but it hurt more when the one parent that was around didn't give us what we needed.  I remember that more.  At least the motherfucker didn't show up.  I mean, most of childhood memories of bio dad are actually great ones since they are so few. Am I being too hard on her?  Perhaps

Well, most of this seems like a rant.  In writing I did discover that I am grateful for her.  I have wonderful memories of her as a child.  I do love her.  I am actually not sure I want to have a relationship with her.  Am I afraid of being disappointed?  I have been disappointed many times by her so one more won't hurt.  Besides, I know she is ready for the next level in her life.  My mom is too smart, beautiful, and talented for this mediocre living she has been doing.  I think that is the part that hurts when it comes to my entire family.  To see such divine children of God blessed with so much skill that they let go to waste.  My mom is wasting away.  I should help her, right?  Heh, well, here's an epiphany:  maybe this isn't my soul lesson.  Maybe it's hers.  Maybe I am supposed to help her soul in this lifetime.  Wow, never thought of it that way.  This is not my movie.  Damn, better get to writing the mommy dearest letter...

In my solitude

Billie Holiday sang that song well.

I have always liked to be alone, loved  it, preferred it.  I have known this my whole life.  I have never really cared what anyone else thought about it.  I have always been able to do things by myself.  I mean, normal things that people like to do with others or could not even imagine doing alone like going to the movies, having dinner at a restaurant, traveling to foreign places, etc.  I remember the first time I saw a movie alone. I remember the feeling of being free to just enjoy it.  I didn't feel too socially awkward.  I will admit that I did wonder if people would think I was weird but those thoughts didn't last for long.  It was a wonderful experience that I repeated many times.  I love to be alone!

I am the third of seven children so its not like being alone is something I'm use to.  I always had my siblings to play with growing up. I even shared a bed with my sisters.  I finally got my own bed at ten but my sisters and I still shared the same room.  I think it's great to grow up living around other people because you learn so much.  I learned to be social in this situation but I never felt like I had to be around my siblings all the time.  Sometimes at night, I didn't mind someone being around when I would make monsters from the shadows on the walls.  Sometimes I still wonder about the shadows on the walls but not in a scary way.  Anywuzzle, it wasn't until college that I finally got a taste of what being alone could truly mean, well, save for my roommate freshmen year and living with my ex.  So, my like for loneliness doesn't come from being used to being alone nor from wanting space after living around so many people my whole life.  I just like it.

I am grateful for having been raised in such a full house hold.  Maybe it is one of the reasons why I know how to be social.  I come off as really social to others in the moment but I put no effort into making new relationships. People like me.  Hell, some of them fall in love with me.  Well, not in the romantic sense (I am too naive to catch shit like that anyway).  I mean, they like who I am.  They think I am funny and intelligent.   They like the sound of my voice and think I have beautiful eyes (been told I got this cat and Egyptian thing going on).  People listen to me.  They always have.  I give good advice and I have an open heart.  I am easy to talk to and creative.  I have most of the qualities people like.  I accept that.  Because of these qualities I give off the image that I am a social person.  That I like to have friends and hang out and talk on the phone.  However, I am quite the opposite. I enjoy quiet time. I would rather stay at home than go out.  I am not much for talking on the phone for a long time and I confess to watching my phone ring and not answering...no matter who it is...

I am self-described antisocial but I don't necessarily have a problem getting close to people or getting to know them.  I don't suffer from social anxiety.  I have no problem talking in front of or to people or taking control of a situation.  I have never had a problem putting myself out there in my adulthood and in fact, there are times when I probably should have held back a bit.  I like to be honest and forward.  I don't care too much for confrontation.  I don't mind doing things to please people when at work but outside of that, I could give a shit.  I am not a people person, which in my line of work doesn't seem like it would work.  Somehow, I am darn good at my job.  I offer excellent guest service.  I know how to communicate with people.  It's a gift from God.  Communication has always been important to me.  I have always wanted to be able to talk to everyone and I put effort into learning new things about how people communicate everyday.  This requires an open heart and mind.

I don't mind a bit of socializing but I can't say that I have put myself in many situations where I had the intention of socializing or making friends.   (Lol, I can't even think of a moment in my life where I complained about not having friends.)  For example, working at Disney was not for social reasons but I certainly benefitted socially from that experience.  Yet as close as I had become to the individuals I met there, I can't say that I talk to any of them on the phone, FB, text, or email regularly if at all (I miss you Ryan Busby).

The same thing goes for Compass.  How the hell could I have issues socializing as a flight attendant?  I don't.  I never entertained the social aspect of this job either but it certainly didn't send me running in the opposite direction.  I actually like how this job forces me to be around people.  Now when I say force, don't think I don't like to socialize or that dealing with people at work is a chore or anything like that.  It's just that I am not sure I would have placed myself into such an environment for socializing.  The socializing is a side effect and it's a good one for a person like me.  I don't think it's healthy to be alone all the time.  I thought that is what I wanted but I realized several years ago that in order to maintain balance as human beings, we need to interact with other human beings.  There are only so many soul lessons one can learn on his/her own.

I realized last year that aside from Michele, I have not maintained (I have barely maintained my friendship with her) any relationship for more than five years.  My ex was the longest and I cut that shit off.  I have reached the five year mark with Luis and boy am I feeling the pressure.  I don't have many friends. I mean, there is my Chica and I have known her almost as long as I have known Luis, give a take a couple months yet she is not around me everyday so maybe it's easier to close to her.  Same thing with KB.  Yeah, that makes sense, right?  Whether it was physical distance or figurative distance, I have used distance and a way to distance myself from people, family included.  I mentioned in a previous blog about how our souls write the charts for our lives and that we experience certain things to teach us soul lessons (that blog in detail is still to come).  Well, I was reading a spiritual booked that stated our families are not really our families.  They are just souls who have made an agreement to attach themselves to each other in a lifetime to ensure soul lessons are learned. We are not required to maintain relationships with them, just to learn soul lessons from them. I can not tell you what a relief this was for me.  Damn, not even family?  Well, that can be explained in another blog.

Oh, look at little miss independent.  Ha!  Maybe this thirst of mine is one of my biggest soul lessons.  I have always been independent.  Miss I-can-do-it-by-myself.  I don't need or want help.  I was never big on group work in school.  Yeah, me who loves everything about education.  I hated that part of class.  I certainly didn't want to rely on other people to get the task done, especially since most people were dumb and had a terrible work ethic.  I dealt with it though.  As I got older I began to appreciate teamwork a lot more.  I began to welcome the ideas of others and looked forward to gaining a new perspective on things.  I don't mind it much now.  However, I still would prefer to work alone, no matter what the task.  Several years ago when I was breaking up with my ex, I needed help, some serious help. There was finally something I couldn't do on my own.  It was so hard for me to reach out yet I am grateful I had done so.  It taught me the strength of keeping family ties and accepting that I can't do this alone.  I will never abandon my independence yet I am learning how to depend on God and people more.

This brings us all the reason why I blog today.  Last night I confessed a revelation I had to my husband:  I am not sure I want to be with anybody.  Wow...yeah...really?  Shit!  Those are some strong ass words, especially considering the fact that YOU FUCKING PROMISED TO BE WITH YOUR HUSBAND THE REST OF YOUR LIFE!!!!!!!!!!!  You are an idiot.  Here is the funny part, you knew you didn't want to get married.  You were never excited about it.  You knew you loved being with him and you encouraged yourself not to think about it, just go with the feeling.  Sorry, had a moment of talking to myself there.  So yeah, I fucked up.  Big time.  I feel so trapped and obligated being married.  I don't like that.  I want to feel free!

To make matters worse, my husband doesn't give me much reason to not want to be with him.  I have described the kind of soul he is many times in this blog.  He is sooo good to me and for me.  Yet, I slapped him in the face last night telling him that I don't like living with him, that I want more time alone.  I mean, normally I can balance it out by just going into another room.  In fact, he loves me so much that he accommodates my loneliness every chance he gets.  He knows how I am.  He is kinda the same but I am way more extreme on the loneliness thing.  I warned him many many times about my loneliness.  I asked him not to take it personally, it's just want I like to do.  He has always been ok with that and wouldn't have married me if he wasn't.  What I didn't see coming was treating him the same way I treated my ex toward the end of that relationship.  The really sad part is that my husband is the exact opposite of my ex and has not given me much of a reason to be so repelled by him.

So, I am a freak.  Well, am I?  Of course I got up this morning to consult the wise google.  Heh, ironically to see if I was alone in how I felt.  Turns out there are tons or people like me.  Well, that was comforting for a few minutes but I didn't find what I was truly seeking.  It wasn't so much as finding out that my feelings are normal but rather the reason why I feel the way I do.   Last night I thought maybe it has something to do with a past life of mine (yes, I believe in reincarnation of the soul).  I thought, well, maybe I can make an astral trip to figure that out but making those trips and visually recalling them is not easy.  You kinda just wake up and realize you have the answer.  Stay with me people, this is once again in reference to life charts our souls write before we come here.  Anywho, I am thinking however that is just a big soul lesson and I must have the materials I need to learn this lesson readily available so the astral trip might not be necessary.  The reson may simply be that I need to learn commitment, to get deeper into loving others, or deeper into unconditional loving.  I know I am learning those lessons now but I didn't expect Luis to be affected greatly.

I looked up the definition of loneliness and all of it was about a longing for someone or something.  It was all very negative.  That is not how my loneliness is.  Mine is positive.  My loneliness is freedom.  I suppose I am using the word out of context a bit but everything that comes with loneliness, I like.  Why is it that society says you have to be with someone?  People get so trapped into that race they get severely depressed.  They do desperate things to be around people.  They seem socially awkward.  I don't know what that is like.  Sure, I have wanted someone romantically but I never thought, when will it happen?  Now you could say it's because I always had someone but I never went looking.  It just fell on my lap.  I am not afraid of getting hurt.  I don't think I am.  I understand the risks of making relationships.  There is a risk that they can be broken as easily as they are made yet with much tougher repercussions.  I have never really been dumped before but I don't think being dumped will have me moping around for a long time.  In conclusion there is not serious analysis of why loners like to be alone that speaks to me.  Everything ends up saying the person has social anxiety.  People who are loners tend to come to the conclusion that they like to be alone on their own.  No one has to tell them.

You know I love a challenge.  I like to make myself do things that I don't like just to get use to the feeling.  Just to say it didn't beat me.  My ex told me the reason I left him was because I had commitment issues.  Ha!  Wait until I prove you wrong buddy!  I can be with someone, just not with yo stank ass.  And that is what I did:  found someone who is completely not him.  Well, would you look-a-ther, I somehow got myself in the same position.  Why did I disconnect from Luis?  Am I afraid of being disappointed in something?  Hurt by his short comings?  Why do I judge him so harshly?  Why am I waiting for him to get upset and scream, I AM NOT TAKING THIS SHIT FROM YOU ANYMORE!?

I don't want a divorce.  Divorce is not really an option for me unless Luis is terribly unhappy.  My thirst for loneliness has pushed him away to try to get him to be unhappy.  This hurts me.  I don't like the way my feelings make him feel.  I rarely want to talk to him or touch him.  When he walks in the room, I feel so heavy and upset.  Sometimes I try to force myself to be normal but it doesn't last.  I have always only been able to show him the real me.  I can't lie to him.  Realizing last night that I am treating him this way because he is present really hurt us both.  I am not happy at home.

I never thought my loneliness would hurt someone.  I thought I could do this.  I thought I would be ok with him being around when I wanted to be alone.  I was for a while.  The uniqueness of our relationship plays a role.  We use to live in two different countries.  When I was on leave from work do to My Injury, I spent those most consecutive days with him than ever before.  Day in a day out seeing him was too much for me.  I slowly and slowly began to withdraw from him and yearned for the day I could go back to work.  It was too much.  I was curious as to whether or not the distance of this relationship is what made it work so well.  I definitely think it helps me with the loneliness thing.

Oh, but wait, there's more!  This is the juicy part.  I don't want to leave him.  I still want to be with him.  I still can't sleep without him.  I still love him.  I know those feelings are still there.  He is still my best friend.  I do feel like maybe I would die without him.  Wtf kind of eff'd up shit is this!?!?!?  Make up your mind, you want to be with him or you don't.  I certainly act like I don't.  I push him away.  But if he actually left me, I would be miserable.  I have decided I need to seek psychiatric help to get through this. I am really struggling right now.  Confessing these things to him have not changed much.  Now he just knows why I have been acting this way.  I need help.  I don't know what is the right thing to do for us.  I can't believe I am blogging about this but that is the point of this blog.  This blog is about my soul lessons and at some point I hope that someone else out there could benefit from the journey of my soul and that is why I share this blog.

God bless

Faithful Servant

Well, a good friend of mine received some news that her dad may have prostate cancer.  This is such a devastating blow for the family.  Here is a litte background about the family.

My friend's dad s a Lutheran church pastor.  My friend and her siblings are preacher's kids and as far as I know, not the bad kind.  Several years ago my friend's dad took a leap of faith and embarked on a journey that lead him to Cameroon Africa as a missionary.  He and his wife have been there for years ministering to the locals.  My friend even spent about a year there as a missionary.

While working on a project at work with my friend, I had the pleasure of being welcomed into there home for about 4 weeks.   I had never seen christian folk like this before.  These were real christians.  These people were the christians I had always hoped existed but had never seen.  I had never seen individuals who truly understood Jesus's message about love.  Yet here it was, right in my face.  I also had the pleasure of meeting the pastor and his wife as they were on a rare visit home from Africa.  I immediately became part of the family.

So, here you have this loving christian family, true servants all their lives, and bam!!! In walks prostate cancer.  When most humans get hit with blows such as this they tend to ask God why he has forsaken him/her at some point.  And that question is completely understandable.  However, when a man such as my friend's dad goes through something like this, you definitely look up at the Big Man and say, really?  Like, really?  Even him?  Your faithful servant who has done nothing but devote his life to you and sacrificed many things for himself and his family.  This is how you repay him?  Damn, that's fucked up!

I don't know this pastor that well.  Maybe he had those thoughts, maybe he didn't.  But he would be wise enough to know the troubles Jesus went through.  There were moments where it seem like Jesus was forsaken (um, beaten and put on cross).  I know this pastor would use those moments to find strength.

I learned something years ago about how our souls write our life charts when in Heaven (maybe I will blog about that later...it's pretty deep).  These charts are the plot of our lives with many paths to choose from, all designed to teach us soul lessons while in the school of hard-knocks aka planet earth.  What an amazing soul this pastor has to take on such an endeavour.

I believe the soul lesson here is just the opposite of feeling forsaken.  When souls decide to take on such hardship in this lifetime, it makes a huge statement about the strength of those souls.  [I hope I didn't just blow your mind too much with the idea that yes, my soul decided to be molested as a child to teach me a soul lesson and your soul decided to have all that bad shit (and good shit) that has happened to you too.  It's hard candy to swallow at first but after a while, you accept it and use it has a source of strength...once gain, I will try to blog about that later.] The tougher your battleground, the tougher your soul.  Most of the things people feel are unbearable are actually huge achievements in soul university.  I know it all seems hard when you in the middle of the storm but coming out of it makes you soooo much stronger than you were before you went into it.

Although this man has devoted his life to the ministry, there must have been some huge soul lesson he has yet to hurdle.  Or, he could be just taking part in the chart of his friends and loved ones to build their soul strength.  Either way, this faithful servant is not forsaken.  This faithful servant knows something the rest of us don't.  This faithful servants knows that his body will remain in this world but that his soul has a place in Heaven with the Lord.  He has known this his whole life.  And when he comes home, the Lord will tell him, well done faithful servant.

Pain Killers and addiction...I think I understand now

So, I wanted to blog about my experience taking pain killers regularly due to my injury.

First, I would like to say that I don't know much personally about addiction as a sickness.  I spent a while being addicted to World of Warcraft.  I would wake up and play it.  I would skip meals.  I would play it for hours each day and not want to do anything else.  If I wasn't playing Warcraft/WoW, like being at school or work, I would be thinking about playing it.  It got to the point where if I was outside, I would wonder what part of warcraft this street would be in or I wonder if I can skin that dog?  I suppose addiction has different levels because as sad as it is, many aspects from the South Park episode that makes fun of WoW is true (google it...it's funny shit).

Did I get officially diagnosed with an addiction?  No.  It likely wasn't anything serious.  I was just really into it.  I have gone long periods without playing the game and honestly, the real reason I spent so much time there was because one, it was/is fun and two, I was in love with another player (my now husband).  After this other player and I got together, I didn't want to play anymore.  I even went over a year without playing it.  I was and will always be a casual player of this MMORPG (btw, the only game I really play... me=not a gamer girl) and that is fine with me.  I have bills to pay now so I can't donate as much time to the Horde effort as I would like.

Anywuzzle, I have felt addicted to other things but just for short periods of time.  Like when I discovered vibrators...I finally knew what being a teenage boy was like *gulp*.  There was also soda.  I worked at my college's cafeteria and they let us drink soda for free...I think I might have replaced water for it at the time.  So I went cold turkey off soda one day and was literally rocking back and forth like a crack head the next day.  Thank God I got the thirst for soda out of my system.  I had no idea what kind of hold it had on me until I stopped drinking it.  But soda and vibrators aren't really addictions people give weight too.  Video games are constantly evolving and I am pretty sure therapies exist for video game addictions by now (I know way too many people that need to sign up for that therapy).

 I classify addiction as an activity you perform daily, several times a day for underlying reasons of comfort, pleasure, and/or an escape.  No, I don't have a degree to be able to verify my definition of an addiction but it's my blog so it is what it is.  Now, this activity can involve a substance, object, thought, or person.  You can be addicted to something/someone without knowing or acknowledging that you are addicted to it.  I believe addiction to something or someone destructive is bad for your health.  The yin and yang of life calls for balance: too much of one thing can sometimes be very unhealthy for you.   Which makes me think, is there anything or anyone that a person can healthily be addicted to?  At what point does an addiction get classified as a sickness or detriment?

After my injury, which you can read about here: My Injury,  I was prescribed hydrocodone.  I didn't know that is was a form of vicodin until several weeks on it.  That didn't keep me from taking it of course.  I have never been a fan of taking pills and medication.  I have always felt most symptoms with go away with time and natural care.  I wasn't as educated in the past about my claims/feelings toward medication as I am now but as it turned out, I was right for the most part.  Pain is the bodies natural way to tell you something is wrong.  Inflammation, for the most part, naturally occurs when the body is making an attempt to heal something.  I was never a fan of popping a pill for a headache unless it was absolutely unbearable.   The pain from my injury was pretty unbearable.

My doctor recommended I take two of these pills a day or as pay occurs.  I still experienced pain on these pills but not as much as I would have without them.  One day I seemed to have gotten bit by something and was having an allergive reaction to it: I had these small red bumps that turned into perfect circuler red bumps on my right arm.  The doc said it was an allergy and prescribed two more pills.  So enough was enough, I stopped the hydrocodone (not gradually either = fail) and decided no more of that.  I continued taking the new pills because it was making the red bumps go away.

What happened after that I have experienced before but was able to identify at the time.  I became really depressed due to the discontinuation of my precious (hydrocodone) but I didn't know that was the reason at the time.  Something else happened.  I finally began to feel the pain of my injury.  It was at that point, after weeks of pill popping that I realized I had never felt the full pain of my injury.  I had been drugged since 5 hours after it happened (first with oxycodone).  Man, this shit really hurt.  I couldn't believe the amount of pain I was in.  Every time I feel pain I think of child birth, which I have never experienced, as the ultimate pain and as a woman, all other pain should be bearable.  I told myself, man up!  You are not giving birth so it's not bad.  But it was bad.  What was I to do?  I couldn't possibly began taking more pills.  I wanted to be able to live without help (a common theme in my life and maybe my biggest soul lesson), even if it was the help of pain relief in the form of a pill.

So, I started taking hydrocodone again and what do you know, more red bumps, this time on the other arm.  Turns out it wasn't a bug bite.  It was an allergic reaction to the pills!  As far as I have known my whole life, I have never had an allergy to anything except the change of spring to summer and summer to fall.  I was shocked and appalled.  I have been hydrocodone free for about 4 weeks now.  A week ago I had my last red bump come and go.  Weeks and weeks on this drug and it may finally be out of my body...I hope.  I still have pain but I do not want to take anything for it.  One day the pain was bad enough that I headed for an ibuprofen.  I had red bumps on my arm the next day.  So wait a minute, I can't take another pain reliever????!?!?!?!?! WTF?!?!??!  That is not cool.  Especially since I have bills to pay!  Maybe it's just for the time being.

What did I learn from all this as it pertains to my soul (hey, that's what the blog is about!), pain relievers, and addiction?   Well, I don't think I am the type of person to do drugs.  I am a light weight with most things.  The few times I have tried marijuana I got high from like two puffs...puff puff...skip!   I know my body so I try to stay away from extremes.  However, I liked the sensation of getting high a couple of the few times I tried it (didn't know who you got high with made a difference).  I have smoked pot 5 times in my life and the last time was in 2007.  I say that I am not a big drinker.  I generally don't get hung over.  I started drinking at 21 and I have barfed maybe five times since then (27 now), maybe less.   I can have half of a beer and start to buzz so it doesn't take much to get me feelin good.  I haven't tried any other drugs and don't plan on it.  At least marijuana is a natural plant.  Cocaine is a hell of drug...at least that is what Dave Chapelle said in his portrayal of the late Rick James. I'll take his word for it.  My point in telling you this is I know what a small high or escape or mellowing out feels like and I understand why people do it and so frequently. However this pain reliever taught me so much more since I was one it for so long.

Something happened to me.  Something happened to me that caused me a lot of pain and I needed something to help me not feel that pain so that I may function, so that I may live in a bit of peace.  Those pills gave me that peace physically. What I didn't know while taking them was that the pills also gave me peace emotionally and mentally.  I had no idea that the pills were numbing more than my physical pain.  I mean, I have been depressed before.  I have suffered from it to the point where I took anti-depressants (the devil in a bottle) and boy was that a mistake.  Anywho, I know what depression is.  I know it's ins and outs, its ups and downs.  I know what the darkness is and how you hate it and love it.  I had no idea my pain pills were also numbing me from my life and my problems.  You should never suddenly stop taking pills, doctors are right about that.  I did that with my hydrocodone and the anti-depressants I took years ago and I was in a much worse nightmare than the reason for taking the pills in the first place. Always gradually take yourself off of pills.  Not sure about how you react to an abrupt discontinuation of taking pills for a long time but I get severely depressed and suicidal.  Not cool!!

You know what else isn't cool?  Waking up one day to realize that the whole time you thought you were numbing your severe injury, you were also numbing your soul.  Too deep for you?  Well, it was true for me.  I had no idea that these pills were keeping me from facing my issues.  My issues with myself, my body, my marriage, my family.  All of those things came to my mind immediately after a week off the pills.  Before that, I just simply didn't think about it.  I had no idea drugs could this.  I had no idea what drugs were capable of.  I know that I am naive with many things.  I thought people got addicted to pain killers because they suffered from severe physical pain and didn't want to feel the physical pain.  I didn't know there was a psychological and emotional aspect to this.  But I experienced it for myself.  You may say, so what, Tracie?  That doesn't mean you were addicted.  I know I wasn't addicted but let me tell you this: the moment I realized what the pills were doing to me mentally, I was disgusted and at the same time thinking, that's kind of cool, I should take another so I don't have to feel this right now and kill two birds with one stone.  I quickly digressed from that thought.

I understand why people get addicted to drugs now, doesn't matter the type of drug.  Pain is real.  It sucks.  Some people have never really experienced true pain that seems like it reaches your soul.  Most addicts have.  They have the drug of their choosing, video game or pot, and numb away.  They don't want to feel pain anymore.  I mean, there are some people who find pleasure in pain, you know, the kind with whips and hand cuffs!  But I am talking about real pain that makes life seem as if it's not worth living.  Even individuals who tried drugs without the intent to numb anything eventually fall into the numbing of it all. It feels good for them not to feel anything but the moment for now because everything else is effing unbearable.  Once you get a taste of that, I can imagine for some people, depending on the pain they are trying to numb, it would be very hard to walk away.  I mean, probably even to the point where these addicts know they have control over their addiction, which they do in sense, but they have no idea what it is doing to their soul.  They have abused that much.  They have numbed their light and would rather the darkness.  Or the drug makes them see the light they couldn't find before.  It makes them feel like they can fly.  It makes the impossible (healing) seem possible (even for that a short amount of time).

Discovering this hurt my soul and I immediately prayed for the individuals suffering from addiction.  I know that we all make choices.  I understand taking responsibility for yourself and all that other jazz.  But take it from a person who has seen and lived in the darkness.  Although you hate it and its torturous and detrimental and all sorts of other bad things, in the same token, it comforts you because it's the only thing you know won't let you down.  It's a constant and familiar and for that, you stay in the darkness.  Hell, sometimes even the darkness feels good to you in some sick sort of way.  You have those moments and feelings although not very often at all.  When I was a child I though suicide was dumb and only for white people (tv will influence you in a lot of ways).  After experiencing what it's like to be in that place (too many times for my taste) my soul cries out for individuals who have trouble with addictions, depression, anxiety, and suicide.

Sorry to sound like an after school special but if you know someone struggling, don't be so quick to judge, especially if you think suicide is stupid.  Tell this person that God/The Universe will never give you more than you can handle in life.  I know some people may not want to hear it at the time, but tell these people that the reason they were given such harshness and pain is because contrary to the weakness they think they have, their souls are some of the strongest souls from heaven/the universe.  And because their souls are so strong, they were given so much pain in this lifetime to make them stronger.  If these people just step into the light to see this this maybe it will help them leave the darkness.  Tell these people that if their souls have to handle so much pain at this point, nothing else can happen to them that would kill them.  They can conquer absolutely anything.  They are not defeated at this point.  The fact that they still breathe is a testament to the strength that is inside of of them.  This message was brought to you by Soul, Search, and Rescue...a family company.  Peace