Problematic.

Why must people be on such fuck shit? Oh social networks, you never cease to amaze me with those grand displays of codependence. This this ass backwards way of think valid because of the words over a stock photo of Beyonce and JayZ? You know that very private couple who only allows the public glimpses of their relationship. I feel like Mugatu…I’ve been taking crazy pills. This kind of thinking is unhealthy!

Let’s unpack this though:

This whole thing reeks of insecurity and neediness. You can’t have trust without privacy. I don’t care in love you are, you’re entitled to some privacy. Unless you plan to merge into your significant other, you need some interests of your own. My SO and I have open computers, devices and such around with zero desire to invade each other’s privacy. We have phone conversations where we both have to step out of the room. I don’t assume the worst and neither does he because we trust each other. I trust my instincts above everything.

This “I’ll do whatever you want” tone is annoying. Compromise is everything in a relationship. You don’t have to dim your light to allow someone else’s to shine. You can’t possibly be satisfied like that. Being faithful to someone doesn’t require losing yourself in the process. C’mon, son.

So yeah go ahead and try to function in a relationship with no trust and privacy…let me know how that works out for you.

As I wished her a happy birthday, I felt a familiar emotion. Longing.  I hate to miss people. I get a flash flood of memories and I feel like crap for the whole rest of the day. Not trying to live my life looking in the rearview mirror but I wish I could turn back time. I don’t have many regrets and I try to rationalize the ones I do have. This one I can’t really rationalize. I spent much of my life in a haze back then. I was in various states of infatuation, intoxication and insecurity. I had an uncanny ability to ignore the worst in people and live this Polyanna existence. It was a way to try and remedy the rough patches of my childhood. I was horrible at protecting my spirit knowing full well how sensitive I am. That combination of factors created a perfect storm and I lost something valuable.

I remember walking away from the MAC counter with her birthday gift in hand. Chestnut lip liner and Oh Baby lipglass. This paled in comparison to the gift of friendship she gave me. A person who absolutely understood me, even the parts I never revealed to others. Marathons of movies, traded booked and magazines, inside jokes and new words to our lexicons. We bonded over those long train rides after work but I know this friendship was willed into existence by our mutual friends. Started by mutual friendship and damaged by mutual friendship.

Some people thrive on chaos. I ignored the signs of resentment and various negative factors for a chance at freedom that I never experienced before. Friendships before this one were so full of judgment. I never felt free enough to leave my buttoned up existence as my darkest moments were thrown in my face. Sharks smelled the blood in the water and created chaos. While those friendships ran their course, they could’ve been done decently. Never again, I said. Just like that, I went from caution to recklessness. My biggest regret, bringing a friendship that was pure into a place I knew wasn’t. On the surface, I was happy that we were meshing well but deep down I feared history would repeat itself. It did and I allowed it. I could see the signs, felt the divide and played dumb. That Pollyana shit coupled with the 3’s company theory, I gambled and lost. The only person I can blame is myself. Naivete along with that aforementioned haze and down right stupidity caused this. Things escalated quickly and I wanted to be shocked but deep down I saw it coming. Chaos. I threw my harmony into chaos on some greedy shit. My friends can be your friends and we’ll all be the best of friends. I was wrong. I was so very wrong.

Things are much better, forgiveness and hugs. I still can’t help but think about how I put our sisterhood in harms way. On her birthday, I played the song we heard and said in unison, “I love this song.” I miss her. More importantly, I miss us. I’d give anything to have another delirious laugh seeing the sun after being out all night.

When I was a little girl, my 2 neighbors knocked me off of my big wheel and put in their porch. Everytime, I tried to go up the stairs and get it, they threw rocks at me. The logical thing would’ve been to go tell my mom to go over to Mrs. Crowley’s house and get it. I was about 6 or 7 and that was asking too much. I went in my yard, grabbed our collie mix by the collar and walked her to the porch. I knew Tippie was mean (much like the Yorkie that was later named after her) to strangers. I turned her loose, she ran up on the porch and then chased them. Needless to say, I got in a WORLD of trouble. When I asked how could boys who I thought were my friends do such a thing, my mom told me, “they just like you.” Problematic.

For years, I thought being mistreated was a part of being a relationship. I rationalized getting all dressed up and then stood up with the same reason of getting my hair pulled by friend’s cousin. I spent a huge bulk of my 20s in love with someone who was nice to everybody but me. Simply because of the wack ass conditioning. The book and movie, “He’s not that into you” went hard on the excuses we make for getting treated like shit. I read it and so many of the scenarios were all off up in my business…still didn’t have a lightbulb moment. It took having a single moment of feeling so hurt, I could barely breathe. I know it wasn’t supposed to be like that. It wasn’t right. So many ideals and traditions that were passed down from patriarchal to patriarchal ass generation were dead wrong. Love won’t always be rainbows and glittery unicorn farts but you should never be purposely hurt.

Stop telling daughters “oh he likes you” when someone’s bonehead son mistreats her. Tell her that he’s a doucher in training who is being mean to her because he lacks home training. Just don’t have another generation of women who think being a doormat is acceptable.

So just so you know….

New blog posts come out on Wednesday at noon, PST. Most of my blogs are written way ahead of time and are scheduled. There might be a current event that I’ll want to talk about immediately. If that happens, I’ll announce it via social networks.

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