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.

Redefine Failure: We Have NOT Failed!

In life, our perceptions drive us. We often believe that, when we don't reach our goals the way we expected to, we have failed. We have big God-given dreams. When we hear the call of God, we know we can do it. We hear the Word of God with confidence and run to tell someone. Then, opposition arrives, and, as obstacles come, we feel as though we've made a mistake, and, in fear, we often give up before we can accomplish the goal. Regrettably, that's when we create our own concepts of failure based on our fears of inadequacy and many times the eschewed views or disbelief of others. 

It is imperative for us to realize that our shortcomings lead to perseverance and that consistency is what God wants us to cherish. We have to realize that is most amazing about us is that we do not succumb to challenges; rather, we push through with vehement fervor! The word of God says, "We are not of them who draw back unto perdition (destruction)." Hebrews 10:39. It is necessary for us to remember that, if we choose to live in fear of the obstacles that come with our calling, we also choose to drown in the regret that will accompany the pain or feelings of defeat. Unfortunately, the disappointment that comes with a dream deferred is far more damaging than our falling short of our goals as we persevere. 

We have a choice: either we continue to press toward our goals, intimidated and fearful (many times with tears in our eyes and streaming down our faces) or we recoil and regret not moving forward for the rest of our lives. 

I encouraged (even beseech) you to change your perceptions and ideas about failure. Know unequivocally that when we choose to try, we shall not fail. However, if we refuse to try, we have failed already. 

As of today, know that we have not failed. As long as we still have air circulating through our lungs and a beating heart, we can touch our dreams, we can accomplish our goals, we can make it to and live in our Canaan. No one can stop us but us. 

Selah

The 360 Lesson

Sometimes we make unorthodox decisions based on the intent of our hearts. Whether it be that we are too passionate, too caring or too overwhelmed, many of our decisions usually come from a good place...or so we think...at least we hope.

The awesome thing about God and His way of working things out for our good (Romans 8:28) is that we receive a lesson from every aspect of our situations. When we overact, for instance, we surmise that we need to learn patience. When we lie, we learn that the opinions of others are more important to us than having or keeping our integrity. And, when we allow people to use us, we understand that we fail to value the precious anointing God has placed in us...that perhaps we don't feel as though we deserve happiness...that we, instead, are placed in the lives of others to serve them rather than God. Maybe we may even enjoy the control we have over someone that constantly depends on us rather than trusting in God. 

The greatest lesson we can learn from the fullness of our sufferings and inconsistencies is how we see ourselves. 

Once our true character is tried by the dilemmas we face we may find ourselves saying, "Who am I, really?"  

Interestingly enough, every lesson we learn points back to a flaw that, if we choose to correct, will usher us closer to the purpose God has for us. It is then that we realize, through the situations we find ourselves in, God has destined us to ameliorate ourselves! That at the foundation of every challenge are the tools to see ourselves more illuminated. The amazing thing about that light is that it serves a dual purpose: to show us our infirmaries and to intensify the beauty of our path.

Yes, the things we suffer: homelessness, shame, molestation, embarrassment, abandonment, hubris and the like bring us closer to our path and strengthen both our resolves and our stories
When we think about it this way, there's so much more light in those gloomy places we would love to bury. 

Avage: Symbol of an Existence

Today, as I prepared some Ginger tea at my favorite grocery store, Whole Foods, I looked for the appropriate sweetener. 

There was "Sugar in the Raw," "Truvia," honey as well as a host other natural sweeteners. Since my body doesn't know the difference, I relied on how much it enjoyed the taste of the sweetener in conjunction with the floral sapidity of the ginger tea. When it came down to it, I noticed that my overwhelmed pallet prefered the sweetness of the Agave above all others. Then, I had an inspirational revelation:

When I look at an agave, I don't think sweet. I think arid desert...I think aloe vera...I think self-sustaining plant.  However, when I partake of the melliferous bouquet, suddenly I feel an overwhelming sense of joy. It's a nearly orgasmic connection between my taste buds and my brain. 

I know this sounds a little over the top, yet I promise it's true.  Agave nectar must be one of my most favorite sweeteners. Consequently, just as we may be deceived by our ocular perception of the agave plant and the intense satisfaction of the agave's nectar, so much of the same could be theorized about a broken soul...even our own.

In pondering the succulent inner beauty of the agave, I learn a lesson in judging that carries over into my thoughts of others. 

Sometimes we see others broken down...weak...despondent or in a state of despair. Maybe we see someone who always has a negative story to tell. We may see them as a complainer or someone who is so acquainted with their struggles that they forget about the blessings seated before them. Many times we separate ourselves from them because we believe they're too weak to be in our circles. 

Even our own sufferings can cause us to discount the greatness within. At times we may even forget to look back from whence we came and measure the distance between our moment of lack and our desolate beginnings. 

In the grand scheme of things, we too are as the agave nectar. Others may judge us based on our shortcomings without fathoming the sweet satisfying surprise that lurks within us. Unfortunately, whether we are judging others harshly, or we are judging ourselves with internal disdain due to a misalignment that we determine or interpret as a failure, we need to take a moment to slow down, collect our thoughts and breath deeply...then, push through because our lives depend on it. 

Maybe today I can encourage you to see the sweet nectar in another...or perhaps dig deep within your hurting soul to find and celebrate your own nectar. 

Today, as I enjoyed the perfect sweetener to my cup of cold ginger tea, I also found a topic that resonates within me and I welcome the deep introspection a simple plant brought on the ebbs of its decadent flavor. 

Sensual Moments: A Titillating Revelation

Recently, I found myself in serious warfare. Although I'm not completely out of it, I strongly believe it is appropriate to mention in this forum because I am certain it will help so many who are dealing with the same feelings and difficulties. Be mindful, I know I am on the edge of victory with this thing, so I'm not posting for advice; instead, I would like for us to clear the air so that some of us who thought they were alone will see freedom...here goes:

Many of you know that I have been talking about my victory and that I am on my way to Canaan. I've been talking about a PUSH (primarily pushing through difficulties to obtain the promises God has for me. 

Recently, I found myself struggling and winded without a clue as to why. I'd been trusting, praising and worshiping God more than ever, and, though I know that's when the enemy normally attacks you, I knew it was more than that. I wanted to know what God was showing me about ME, not the devil. I mean...duh...satan's desire is to kill, steal and destroy, so I know he's not happy I'm on the Lord's side. However, what I saw in myself were some unnatural craving...things from my past. My chief question on the edge of victory today was: Why am I (internally) out of control. I wasn't acting on my thoughts, but BOY did I have them (more details on the blog). 

As I was walking today, in my mind, I asked God what in the world was wrong with me. You see, it's easy to blame satan, he's an easy scapegoat, but how willing are we to delve into the core of our issues and see what it is about OUR thought processes that causes us to vacillate between holy living and unrighteous decisions? If we are honest, some of us have a proclivity for things that God never intended for us to be ensnared by; nonetheless, we find ourselves there...so why? So that we can obtain the victory that brings nations out of their own conundrum.

Here's the story:


I lost my best friend.


No, she didn't pass, she just stopped reaching out to me. I found myself reaching...pushing myself beyond those feelings of rejection and saying to myself, "She's just going through some things. She'll come around."


She didn't.


I wanted to talk to her about my triumphs and difficulties. I felt like I needed her to help me increase my faith. 


She wasn't there.


Shortly after, I realize she probably wouldn't be there...I had to come to the realization that she wouldn't see me off...there would be no celebration before I left...I had to take into consideration that June 23rd would come and leave like any other day and that maybe I would never see her again. That's when it all started.


I've always had issues with sex. If you've read any of this blog, you already know that sex wasn't my favorite thing to do. I mean, I loved the accolades a man would give me:


"Owwwww baaaaby! You do that sooooo good! Ummmm....yeaaaaa!"

Yes, sex was the one thing I did well. I could write a book about it...in a sense, I am.


I found myself longing to hear those words. To give a man something to mmmmm for. I wanted to feel myself get wet enough for a man to feel amazing...he's the man if he can make a woman like me desire him...the thought...that anticipation of getting what I would give him. Knowing that I could please any man by merely listening to the changes in his breathing...the moans he tries to hold back...the cries he can't hold in. The eminent explosion as he begs me to stop reminding me that he's not ready.


A priceless transfer of power....


I never acted on it, but I thought about it, frequently. I just wanted to hear that sound.


I found myself going to church at war with my lower nature. I knew what God had said. I knew what God had confirmed. 
I thought Houston...I knew I couldn't stay in North Carolina, but I wouldn't have ever thought of Dallas, a place I had never lived, becoming my permanent home. However, I never tried to fight what God was saying. I only knew that God had to work everything out because I understood that no help was coming for me. No one really cared if I did everything alone...I had to pray.

I thought it was the devil, and I would have loved to blame it on him. Unfortunately, as time wained on, I realized one fundamental truth, it was me. I wanted to lie with a man. I wanted to hear him bellow out my name. I wanted to touch him where no woman had touched him. I wanted to make him blow my phone up begging for more. I did...it took so much for me to own up to the fact that Yolanda wanted to ensnare a man simply to reject him. Give him all of that pleasure and walk away...yep, no cuddling, no kissing, no after-the-sex conversation just leave him in uncontrollable convulsions, get up, kiss him on his forehead and walk out the door.


It went on for days after I sent her the e-mail explaining how hurt I was that she was ignoring me. It got worse after I received her e-mail convinced that she didn't understand the pain I was going through without her. That night, for the first time in so long, I pleasured myself...still loving God, coming out exhausted and saying, "Lord, I'm so sorry." Although I knew it was better that I hadn't did it with a man...I felt as though I hadn't hurt anyone, but I knew for certain that it only made me want more...that was the beginning.


I went to church one evening...empty. I knew I had a real issue and continued to fight it. In my heart, I wanted to wait until I'm married before I lie with a man, but, in my flesh, I really didn't care. Besides, there are so many people doing it and they love God. 

I wrestled...I had so many men talking to me about sex. They started coming out of everywhere. Before I knew it, I was explaining my position on it with my body on fire. Avoiding the conversation and fighting the desire to give up and just do what everyone else does. I thought, I'm about to be 40 and here I am waiting. I don't have any friends. I don't have any support. I am in debt up to my eyeballs. I'm 1,100 miles away from my family. I need to be encouraged...I feel so stuck. Maybe if I do it just one time and don't attempt to be connected to anyone, I'll feel so much better. I knew better, so that thought didn't last long.


I started reaching out to men on social networks. I knew I wouldn't meet them; I just wanted to talk to someone who was facinated in me. They think I'm cute...awwww...I wanted some attention. I only told a couple of trustworthy friends what I was going through...it was personal, but I knew that, if I didn;t tell anyone, I would act on the urges. I didn't want to because, even though I am no goodie-two-shoes, I do desire in my heart to be pure before God. I have two sons I need to be an example to and so many young women who are watching my life...I had to keep it together for them more than myself.


It wasn't until I went for a run that I started thinking about why all of this started...what was my problem? Was I just horny? 


Some people may disagree with me, but the answer is a resounding no. If I was horny, there are plenty of men I could ask for some affection and the issue would be resolved. I asked God to reveal to me where all of it began...soon I had my answer.

I have so many issues with rejection. When I was younger, the way I dealt with rejection was to have some knock-down-drag-out-mind-blowing sex. I always had a guy that was freaky enough to give me what I needed, that self-esteem boost. The "Ohhhhh Landa baby dang!" It was good to hear a man say every now and then stupid stuff like: "Owww marry me!" or "Ima hafta keep you baby!"


It was all I could do to keep myself from telling them how good it felt to hear the lies I knew would never come into fruition, and, after a while, I didn't mind any more. Now that I know I'm worth the owws and ahhhhs outside of the bed, I seek something different. Therefore, I know that, when I want to go back to that, I am dealing with the symptoms of rejection. Feeling as though I wasn't good enough for my friend to hang in there with me made me desire to hear the one thing I was always good enough for, a man's favorite bedtime toy.


Once I realized it, I had to correct my behavior. It was difficult. Now that I'm on the edge of my victory, I see a few things: 


1. It hurt for my bff to reject me. Even when I told her I felt rejected, she didn't really understand why. I felt she didn't validate my feelings so, with a life that was rife with rejection and dismissals, I started craving the one thing that made me feel valuable.


2. I have a purpose that is bigger than myself and I am closer than ever to it coming into fruition. At times I am both misunderstood and abandoned...maybe this further solidifies that it's time for me to go. 

3. I see myself. I know that I lean on my sensual side when I feel as though people don't understand me. Sex isn't hard to understand; either you have skills or you're learning them. However, without sex (when you're single), life is more complicated. Had I retreated into the bed (or a floor...etc) with a man, it would given me a little time to take my mind off of my son's father's desires to take him away from me, that everything I've known for the last 11 years is about to be gone...I will be in a new place and that alone is a little scary...seeing that I am concerned about my move and how much I'm losing...the fact that I'm taking my baby away from his family...my oldest son away from his friends...It's a tough decision to make. The biggest thing I know for sure is that God is on my side. In retrospect, once all of the bedroom festivities are over,  I still have to face myself, my fears and all of my decisions and that man I would've decided to have one or two or three or seven or ten or...(you get it) romps in the sack with wouldn't have been able to help me. Just like any other addiction I'd awaken from the erotic opiates with no solution for my tears. 


So what have I decided to do?

Release those feelings...Save myself,  love myself, and celebrate my time in NC with my children. This year is an amazing milestone for me. I've been alive nearly 40 years, which is something I never thought I would have been able to say. I will embrace this final 30 days in a land I came to call home. I will continue to cling to the Lord. He never rejected me. He never left me. He never stopped contacting me. He will go both before me and with me, so  I have no reason to be apprehensive or afraid. He has always upheld me with His right hand.


As for my feelings about my friend, I still love her. I pray for her that she would do well in her endeavors. I'm not upset with her; instead, I'm trying to find a way not to internalize it. Her actions helped me to find the dangerous epicenter of every mistake Ive ever made while attempting to deal with rejection. I've learned to face it rather than run from it.


I see my own reactions to rejection and I refuse to use my body to regain my power. By refuting the lies and refusing to defile myself, I maintain my power over the memories that often attempt to haunt me...the words that recapitulate in my mind: "You ain't nothin'; you ain't neva gon be nothin'. The only thing you're good for is suckin' or ridin' d*ck." I don't receive it!  No matter what happens, I refuse to go backward. I am worth more and I will take no shorts. Do I still have sexual cravings? Yes...that's normal, but what I won't do is take that as an indication that I should chase accolades. 


The Lord is my strength. I will lean on Him through this! 
Selah!