To Invest or Not to Invest

Recently, I found myself in a bit of a conundrum. 

I have a dear friend about three hours away from my home. I was contemplating going for a visit when I began feeling flustered. I thought about all that I have to do as I prepare for my move and I began considering the financial obligation of going for a visit when I know there are plenty of places I need to go and even more things I need to do. 

More than anything, I try my best to keep my word. However, as much as I would have loved to see my friend I wanted to consider a few things:
1. Do I really need to do this?

2. Is thinking about this causing me stress? 

3. Is it economically feasible for me to do it?

4. How will I feel if the visit doesn't go well? 

It was all enough to make me feel frustrated. My whole face turned red. Then, I thought about what God had been showing me about the concept of investment and how I had often invested in others, but had rarely, if ever, invested in myself. I had always given every person in my life a chance except for me. So, when it came to sacrificing for others, it had always been easier than believing in or taking care of me. From my existence of backward bending motions, I felt enough pain from over-investing in others that my lesson taught me how to better love and care for myself, and, by not devoting time and attention to myself, I was discounting the gifts and talents God placed in me to appease and satisfy others. I was always left discouraged and I internalized everything. I decided it wasn't wise to see my friend and instantly felt a great rush of freedom.

My best revelation is: the most effective way to curtail disappointment is to monitor our investment in others. It may seem harsh, but, what does the word of God say about it? "Guard your heart with all diligence for out of it flows the issues of life." Proverbs 4:23. There's no avoiding it. 

If we invest too much in people who fail to reciprocate the same level of commitment to us, we walk away feeling used, mistreated, and discounted. I encourage you to give yourself a chance. You, too, deserve the same level of love, commitment and sacrifice. Besides, sometime we are blocking them maturing in Christ, which does neither us nor them a bit of good.

 Please consider this.#GiveYourselfAChance 

Famished: When It's Real

This evening I sat down to have a transparent talk with someone...it was deep. It's always deep when I'm sharing my story, and it's hard too...sometimes.

I did notice something though. 

No tears...no feelings of fear or anxiety. 

Could it be that the conversation I had only days ago with a repentant ex-boyfriend; the one where I cried out...holding back all that I could only to squeak out words I never wanted to admit, "No one has ever loved me," I muttered beneath shuddering whimpers...trying my best not to let the hurt seep out...I recalled when I was so tied (ensnared is a better word) by the idea of investing into someone. Believing in the laws of reciprocity. Hoping I would reap what I had sown no matter whether the ground was good or bad...just because I believed in them...the men who scorned me, abused me and released me. 

"I've hurt so bad," I squeaked...embarrassed at the idea that I had wounds so deep that I nearly deemed myself irreparable, entirely worthless and deeply eschewed.

Wounds from my past...from my childhood. 

This day, though, I felt a release when my story came tumbling out. I was talking about my baby girl, Yolanda. That child I had often blamed for her woes, blow-ups and misgivings. Her explicit past, where she often lived...in her heart balled up in a corner hoping no man would touch her. It was as though I finally realized that she was that daughter I never had and the one person I had finally learned not to neglect...to embrace.
As I spoke of her, that past of sexual abuse and pain, I smiled because I had finally come to the greatest and most fulfilling conclusion:

I'm so proud of her. 

If you find yourself in my story, look in the mirror...take a moment to smile. 

Embrace yourself if you can. That person staring back at you is greater than a survivor. 

He or she is an overcomer and a victor. 

You, too,should be so proud! 

God Has Bigger for You

My Top 10 Revelations:

1. I tapped into the foundation of my angst and frustration and this morning I cut the head off of that giant! ‪#‎Hallelujah‬

2. Some people came back into my life just to ask me to forgive them and I felt a release, which told me a lot about me.

3. It's 2014 and I'm noticing that the more liberal we are as a people the less accountable we are as a people. ‪#‎BackwardsMovement‬

4. The closer it gets to my exodus to Abu Dhabi, people I haven't seen or heard from in many years are popping up in my life. For so many reasons, I don't find that ironic.

5. I don't like combing my hair, but people seem to think my hair is most cool when I haven't combed it in about a week. ‪#‎Odd‬

6. I need a Frito intervention! ‪#‎SomebodyHelpMe‬

7. Oreos do NOT have dairy in them. The cream is made from soy. I hope I don't relapse. ‪#‎SomebodyPrayForMe‬

8. When I think about my children and the type of mother and woman I've become (without a true model to pattern myself after), I get a little emotional. ‪#‎PraisingGod‬ ‪#‎SoGrateful‬

9. I know I need to delete some people from my Facebook page, people who desperately want to see me fall, talk about me like I'm a dog, and have never believed in or loved me, but God keeps telling me that my arrival at destiny will increase their faith...so I keep them on.

10. My biggest revelation is that, even through my imperfections, God is working to perfect me. I trust in Him completely and choose life...‪#‎everyday‬

What is YOUR biggest revelation this week?

My Real Truth (Part 2): What Are Your Ten?

1. I'm not perfect, but I'm so grateful I'm not the person I used to be because I was crazy and I stopped taking my meds. 

2. I see people in a dichotomy. You may be a good friend, but a lousy professional and I know how to separate the two.

3. I refuse to date a man I work with no matter how drop-dead gorgeous he is.

4. I'm not stuck on myself, but I do wink at myself in the mirror before I walk away...every time I walk away. 

5. I don't really care for salads.

6. I have a kind heart and want to help people, but I detest the feeling of being used.

7. I will play the dumb role just to see how genuine people really are.

8. I believe there's good in everyone, but that some people have been so jaded by life that they hide their good behind their pain. I wish y'all would cut that out!

9. I have a thorn in my flesh the size of Africa and I am looking forward to my deliverance.

10. Although people recognize my intellect and value my resolve, I have no idea which way to turn or what to do without the Lord. I know, assuredly, that I would fail without Him. 

#WhatAreYourTen?

Touch Me...

Everything does...

Every hint of goodness...I used to love him, but he didn't believe in me, and, eventually, he didn't want me at all. It hurt and I cried. 

It's always pretty amazing when we find out that someone from our past sees something good in us. When they dote over us and imagine what we could become...semi-stalking us. It can be both intriguing and scary. I think I'll talk about my experience today from the intriguing side.

Over the past three weeks, I've had three ex-boyfriends stumble back into my life: one emailed me out of the blue (he's the most dangerous because he lives in close proximity to me), one found me on Facebook (I'll concentrate on him in this entry) and one I found on Facebook (he needs a blog entry all his own). 

The one who emailed me...well, it's not that I don't think he's a good guy. Well, sort of...he kind of used me when we were together and stepped back in to the shadows for a while...asked me for help on a project and disappeared again. I think he's between women. Doesn't matter...He wants to see me. I don't want to see him. He seemed like a friend, but he's not good for me so...well, nothing more to talk about.

The one who found me on Facebook, interestingly enough, was one of the few men I was actually in love with. I wish I could say his name on here because he was one of the sweetest men I had ever been in a relationship with. In times past, when I was lonely, the thoughts of me and him lying in the bed talking and laughing...watching TV together...the thoughtful gifts he brought me. The way he treated me and my son, Jay, made me feel like we were in a real family (something I desperately wanted and sought after vehemently). 

His mom loved me and I loved her. She often blessed me with organic vegetables from a friend's garden and was much like a mother to me. She used to talk to me...sincere talk. I mean, she really cared for me like a daughter and thought I was good for her youngest. I went to see her after our breakup and she was sad about it, but urged me to continue to see her. Out of respect for his mom and her memory, I will end my discourse about her here.

My ex and I were great, but I had issues with him smoking. I also wanted to stop having sex and give our relationship to the Lord. We shouldn't have started having intercourse because he didn't want to stop and neither did I. It was hard. I loved on him good and he was so kind to me that I couldn't help it. As my insatiable appetite grew, it was difficult to pull away. He was such an amazing lover and an even better friend.

In 2004, I had been having a difficult time in the church I was a member of. I was being marginalized and
discounted because of my past...I was being judged and it hurt because I didn't have anyone to lean on.

I was celibate. 

My ex came over. It had been four years since our break up. I missed him and welcomed him into my home. We talked for a little while and I could tell he was still attracted to me...and I was just as attracted to him. The air in the room was electric. I was lonely and I often struggled with being celibate when no one believed I was. To shorten the story, he gave me the most luscious sexual gift and promised we wouldn't need to have sex for it. You know it was oral. It was him on me and as always he didn't disappoint. He laid me down and caressed my hips and thighs as he pressed his lips and tongue against that one special place. He made love to me with his face and I exploded with pleasure. 

Afterward, he wanted to have sex, but I told him I couldn't. He was angry with me. Although I felt selfish and guilty...even confused, I didn't trust that he wanted to keep me and I was afraid to start something over with him again.

In a few days, in a fit of guilt, I called him and asked him to come back by. This time, I gave it all back to him. He seemed to be pleased, but he still wanted to have sex and so did I. He wanted to be inside of me. He wanted my legs wide open...feet tucked behind my head, but I still didn't want to give up my celibacy. I could tell he was upset with me, even after my gift to him, and I was perplexed. I hadn't paid him back as I had thought...that's not what he wanted. 

In a week's time, remorse took a toll on me. I had been dealing with so much rejection in the church and in my community. I had lost a dear friend and I felt so alone. He was the only person I had in my life who wanted to be around me. I wanted to give him a gift. I wanted to see him happy again. I wanted to hear those accolades he always gave me. I wanted to hear him bellowing out my name...I wanted to hear him say it in that voice I evoked from him...the way he would squeeze me when I pleased him. I always remembered that when I felt depressed or rejected. When I felt like no one wanted me, I could hear his voice when I pleased him. I could hear his voice calling me sexy...saying, "Ohhhh Yolanda..." I wanted that.

I called him.

And I was anticipating making love to him like we once did.  He was pretty endowed and I didn't want him to hurt me, but, as I thought about it, I knew he wouldn't hurt me because he loved me. I predicted that he would be gentle and that our sex would be beautiful like it once was.

I was wrong.

When I arrived, we had a short period of time to talk and he was on me. I let him do it. It felt so good to be received. I didn't think he would or ever was judging me. I released my heart to him again to trust him completely, but he wasn't that same person. He didn't love me anymore. He was wounded and ready to wound me back.

He ushered me to the bed, I pealed off my clothing and I laid down to receive him. I opened my legs and he shoved himself inside of me. It hurt so bad...I burned inside and held my breath almost the entire time. It didn't last long. For me, there was no eruption...no orgasm, only pain and blood. It was like I was a virgin losing my virginity to a rape all over again. Although the sex was consensual, it reminded me of the first time I had lost my virginity. A violent rape on a kitchen counter with a rag stuck in my mouth. My mouth and throat became dry and I looked at the ceiling to find a spot to live and wrap my body around and wide tears plummeted down my face...into my ears and down my chest into the folds of my cleavage. When it was done, I tried to talk to him...to reason with him, but he didn't believe I hadn't been having sex for all of that time. He didn't believe I hadn't had sex since the last time we did. Even though I bled and he couldn't even last inside of me, he chose to believe that I had put together some concoction to make my insides tighter to trick him...something that was completely out of character for me. I gasped...sick, sore and down-trodden, my heart hung in my chest sad, depressed and defeated. 

I begged God to forgive me...flinging up thousand upon thousands I'm sorries, but I refused to forgive myself because I didn't feel like I deserved it.

When he was done, he didn't try to cuddle with me. He didn't even touch me. He got me a wet rag and let
me know he had somewhere to go...or needed some sleep. I can't remember which it was, but he made it clear that he didn't want me there anymore. I had to go home. When I think about it, I think he took me. However I got home, I was devastated and he never called me again. 

A couple of days ago, he contacted me for the first time in a decade on Facebook. I was confused. He apologized (something not many men who had hurt me were man enough to do). What I couldn't believe was that he had kept up with me during the course of a decade...he knew what I had been through and somehow watched me go through it from a distance. He was able to tell me things he shouldn't have known. He wouldn't call me, he said, because he didn't think I would receive his help. It was difficult to learn that he watched me drown...so many people did. 

In all, the thing that touched me the most about my experience today, talking to him on the phone, was that I heard things from him that I needed to hear...things that I don't get to hear...

His keeping up with me touched me. Even though it's a little stalker-like, at least he was willing to convince me that I would be a good wife. He tried so hard to convey that I was one of the sweetest and most beautiful women he had ever known. That I was valuable and special. That he would marry me if he could do it all over again...he would love me. 

Although I appreciated his accolade (one without sexual intervention), I became despondent. He asked me if, when I return from Abu Dhabi, would I marry him...give him another chance. It's something that he had loved me and I had loved him and how I would have been enthralled to become his wife during that time, but that I was neither valuable nor believable enough for him to realize that I wouldn't have ever lied to him. I told him I never wanted to get married again. Much to my dismay it slipped out of my mouth without me thinking. It was then that I realized that I am a wonderful mom, a great friend, a phenomenal colleague, a dependable contractor, a law-abiding citizen...I'm a good girl and I'm amazing at everything except for relationship. 

I've been in love four times in my life. None of them had ever chosen me and now I'm considering taking my hat out of the ring for good because I only want to take care of me right now. 

Maybe some day...just not today. 

My Funny...Not so Funny True Story:

Can you say, "Character-building Day?"

 My landlord got me a "new" refrigerator. It seemed really nice until I cleaned it out and discovered dead
roaches. Yes, ewww! SO, while I'm taking my exam online, I text my landlord to tell him that I'm seeing roaches in the barrier I put up to keep the ferrets from getting behind the fridge.

Tell me WHY this gentleman came over and began emptying a can of Hot Shot roach spray behind and on the side of the refrigerator. Now, he's back there coughing like a hag, but he just keeps on spraying. Before you know it, I come out and say, "I think that's enough. That stuff is everywhere!" *cough, cough...achoo!!* To wit he responds (with his face covered and while he coughing up a lung), "Oh Nawl *cough...gag* it's okay *gag...cough* just a little bit more and you ain't *cough...sneeze...cough...cough* worry about no mo..." *gag...gag...gag* He continues emptying the can and proceeds outside like he just came out of the Mustard Gas Chamber!

He conveniently leaves me coughing up a lung. Right then I had to stop everything (including my test) to open anything that could bring outside air into the house and prepare to take the ferrets outside in their cage. Meanwhile, our smallest ferret, the ever illusive Penelope, is NO WHERE to be found. I look all over for her and I get extremely frustrated because I have too much to do to be looking for a dang ferret.

I called my oldest son to ask where her favorite hiding spots were...no Penny!


"She finna die in here, Jay!" I don't want her to die in here!"

I drive to the store and come back home.

I sat there in the driveway...hoping Penny was still alive and texting my landlord in a panic:

"Me and the ferrets aren't going to be able to stay in here...I can't breathe in the house now and that stuff is getting everywhere as if you set off a bomb in the house. I really wish you wouldn't have sprayed so much"

"Sorry dear, just killing roaches. Call me if you need help"

"I don't know where Penny is! I hope doesn't die."

"Turn off all sound and listen for coughs, u find her"

REALLY DUDE?? Ferrets don't cough! Ayyyyyyyyyeee! 

I remained silent...still sitting there thinking about Jeremiah playing with Penny and how much he really loves her. I thought about her lifeless little ferret body and how she might stink before I finally found her body to dispose of it...all alone with a dead ferret in the house. #GROSS

Suddenly, in my periphery I see a white, fluff-ball. I turn to see what it was...it was Penny!

Now, I don't feel like doing any work. Geesh! Thanks, Mr. Landlord.

My Real Truth--What Are Your Ten?

1. I find athletic men absolutely sexy...I'm saved, but I do mean sexy (no edit-I do have to pull down thoughts). 

2. I've never, neither have I ever, wanted to share a man with another woman (I happen to think I'm too amazing for that)

3. I get annoyed when people mistake my use of elevated diction for arrogance. 

4. I've only been in love four times in my life.

5. I want to give myself to one man and I am willing to wait for the right one.

6. I've finally been delivered from Oreos, but I haven't been delivered from Fritos (I'm a work in progress).

7. I'm a vegan who still wants to eat cheese.

8. For once in my life, I finally love myself.

9. I cry at least once a week.

10. Most important---> I believe God made me special and created/designed me for a purpose greater than I can even conceptualize. 

What are your ten?
#ItIsSo