Originally Posted: August 14, 2007 - Tuesday
I don't recognize these feelings
Don't really recognize myself
Been too long since I've felt this way -
unconditional joy born from another person's touch
I am smiling on the inside
Beaming really
I don't remember this
It's new
Cause I hear His voice and I can't stop the grin from growing
I see Him smile and it feels like home
Time spent together flies
Time spent apart stands still. Truth.
Excitement & reluctance, fear & exhilaration
All at the same time
Confusion about what comes next
I ask myself if He feels it, too
This time, I have met my match
Precious moments
Truly significant other
And even though it feels like heaven
I can't enjoy it
Because the sum of my experiences
Has me waiting
For the other shoe
To DROP.
Monday, December 10, 2007
Friday, December 07, 2007
Overanalyzed!
Originally posted: June 1, 2007 - Friday
It's hard being the youngest child of two therapists. While I am proud of the professional strides that my parents have made, Lord only knows that their wealth of knowledge about the human psyche is both a blessing and a curse.
Take for instance a simple conversation I had with my mother just a few days ago:
Me: Mommy (yes, I still call my mom "Mommy" – especially when I want something), I don't have any money.
Mommy: Of course you have money. You just got a nice check from that project you finished a few weeks ago.
Me: Yes, mommy. You told me to put that money away for a rainy day, don't you remember that?
Mommy: Yes, I remember that. So, if you have money in your savings account, then you have money. So, don't say you don't.
Me: Mom, can I just complain sometimes? I mean, damn! (I didn't really say "damn", but I sure as hell was thinking it!)
Mommy: Well, it really benefits your mental health if you would just say, 'I have money, but I am not going to touch it because going shopping is not really the reason why I have set it aside.' You really should try to practice positive self-talk for the sake of your psychological well-being.
Me: **Rolling eyes violently** Alright, Mom, you're right. I have money.
Mom: Now, don't you feel better?
Me: Whatever. I'll talk to you later. Goodbye. **click**
Sometimes, I really would like to have a normal conversation with my parents that didn't involve every statement I utter being picked apart by overly analytical mental health providers. But, such is my life. And, truthfully, I should be used to it by now. This has been going on for nearly 28 years.
Another (somewhat) funny story. Picture me at 2 years old. I was a damn cute kid, but that's a different story… lol. I had a Fred Flintstone bottle that I loved to death! Get this – it was actually shaped like Fred Flintstone (Fred was wearing his leopard print muumuu or whatever he was dressed in) except Fred had a nipple attached to the top of his dome. Yeah, pretty funny now that I think about it.
Anyway, the story goes that one day my dad got tired of me carrying Fred around. He calls me into his office – yes, an actual office in our home. (Seriously, this is so my father – who the HELL "takes a meeting" with a 2 year old??) Daddy got down on my level and told me that the only people he knew who carried bottles were babies. And he asked me whether I was a "baby" or a "big girl". Now, if 27 year old me was having this convo with my pops, I would have known to play it safe and answer "I am a baby" and kept it right on moving with Fred in my right hand, But this was 2 year old me. Little me who wanted to be a "big girl" more than anything. And, of course, my father, trained in myriad counseling theories and techniques, knew that he could harp on this to get me to do what he wanted me to do.
So, when 2 year old me answers, "I'm a big girl", he grabs his wastebasket and says (so it is reported to me), "Well, a big girl would throw that bottle right into this wastebasket and never ask for it again." And, (so it is said) I looked from nipple-headed Fred to the wastebasket and back to nipple-headed Fred, took one last nip of apple juice and tossed his ass in the wastebasket. And, guess what? Because I was a big girl, I never asked for the bottle again.
Now that I reflect on this story, I find it amusing for at least three reasons:
My father had an actual "meeting" with a 2 year old in his office. (Loco. Totally loco.)
My father used basic reverse psychology principles to manipulate me into doing what HE thought was right (apparently, my mother wasn't all that concerned about me wielding a bottle at 2. This was all about my dad's hangup.)… and this is something he STILL does TO THIS DAY. Booo!
I had mad willpower at 2! Where's that willpower now when I absolutely HAVE to order dessert after every meal in a restaurant?!
At any rate, the sum of my experiences with Mommy and Daddy have made me who I am today. Which isn't really that bad of a person. So, I suppose – when I really think about it, having two shrinks as parents really is more of a blessing than it is a curse.
Until, once again, I'll make a comment in jest and they overanalyze the hell out of it, pushing me one step closer to joining some of their clients in the looney-bin.
It's hard being the youngest child of two therapists. While I am proud of the professional strides that my parents have made, Lord only knows that their wealth of knowledge about the human psyche is both a blessing and a curse.
Take for instance a simple conversation I had with my mother just a few days ago:
Me: Mommy (yes, I still call my mom "Mommy" – especially when I want something), I don't have any money.
Mommy: Of course you have money. You just got a nice check from that project you finished a few weeks ago.
Me: Yes, mommy. You told me to put that money away for a rainy day, don't you remember that?
Mommy: Yes, I remember that. So, if you have money in your savings account, then you have money. So, don't say you don't.
Me: Mom, can I just complain sometimes? I mean, damn! (I didn't really say "damn", but I sure as hell was thinking it!)
Mommy: Well, it really benefits your mental health if you would just say, 'I have money, but I am not going to touch it because going shopping is not really the reason why I have set it aside.' You really should try to practice positive self-talk for the sake of your psychological well-being.
Me: **Rolling eyes violently** Alright, Mom, you're right. I have money.
Mom: Now, don't you feel better?
Me: Whatever. I'll talk to you later. Goodbye. **click**
Sometimes, I really would like to have a normal conversation with my parents that didn't involve every statement I utter being picked apart by overly analytical mental health providers. But, such is my life. And, truthfully, I should be used to it by now. This has been going on for nearly 28 years.
Another (somewhat) funny story. Picture me at 2 years old. I was a damn cute kid, but that's a different story… lol. I had a Fred Flintstone bottle that I loved to death! Get this – it was actually shaped like Fred Flintstone (Fred was wearing his leopard print muumuu or whatever he was dressed in) except Fred had a nipple attached to the top of his dome. Yeah, pretty funny now that I think about it.
Anyway, the story goes that one day my dad got tired of me carrying Fred around. He calls me into his office – yes, an actual office in our home. (Seriously, this is so my father – who the HELL "takes a meeting" with a 2 year old??) Daddy got down on my level and told me that the only people he knew who carried bottles were babies. And he asked me whether I was a "baby" or a "big girl". Now, if 27 year old me was having this convo with my pops, I would have known to play it safe and answer "I am a baby" and kept it right on moving with Fred in my right hand, But this was 2 year old me. Little me who wanted to be a "big girl" more than anything. And, of course, my father, trained in myriad counseling theories and techniques, knew that he could harp on this to get me to do what he wanted me to do.
So, when 2 year old me answers, "I'm a big girl", he grabs his wastebasket and says (so it is reported to me), "Well, a big girl would throw that bottle right into this wastebasket and never ask for it again." And, (so it is said) I looked from nipple-headed Fred to the wastebasket and back to nipple-headed Fred, took one last nip of apple juice and tossed his ass in the wastebasket. And, guess what? Because I was a big girl, I never asked for the bottle again.
Now that I reflect on this story, I find it amusing for at least three reasons:
My father had an actual "meeting" with a 2 year old in his office. (Loco. Totally loco.)
My father used basic reverse psychology principles to manipulate me into doing what HE thought was right (apparently, my mother wasn't all that concerned about me wielding a bottle at 2. This was all about my dad's hangup.)… and this is something he STILL does TO THIS DAY. Booo!
I had mad willpower at 2! Where's that willpower now when I absolutely HAVE to order dessert after every meal in a restaurant?!
At any rate, the sum of my experiences with Mommy and Daddy have made me who I am today. Which isn't really that bad of a person. So, I suppose – when I really think about it, having two shrinks as parents really is more of a blessing than it is a curse.
Until, once again, I'll make a comment in jest and they overanalyze the hell out of it, pushing me one step closer to joining some of their clients in the looney-bin.
A New Year, A New Me...
Originally posted: January 8, 2007 - Monday
I will absolutely admit that this blog had a totally different beginning seven days ago. I wrote it on New Year's Day 2007.
It took me a week to post it.
Mainly because I felt that I had poured too much of my heart, my fears, my soul into it. And I'm not ready to share all that with y'all yet. I'm a work in progress. I'll get there one day…
This is the first year that I've felt different at the stroke of midnight on December 31st. I decided to bring in the New Year "right" this year. I was at the altar in church when the clock struck 12. And, then I went to a party...
Hey, old habits die hard.
But, when I got home that night, I sat and thought about all of the stuff that I had been through in '06.
Rewind to last NYE: on December 31st 2005, I couldn't have been happier to see '05 in my rearview mirror. A lot of things went down in '05 that made me a better person, but there was a lot of hurt in '05 as well. With that said, though I wanted to escape the nonsense of '05, I just wasn't excited about the dawn of '06 because I couldn't see past the pain of the previous year.
This NYE was different.
I looked forward to '07 with an intense hope that I've never felt before... People who know me… scratch that... people who are acquainted with me (cause those who know me know the real deal) would describe me as a confident and outgoing person. But what they don't know is that I have NEVER been comfortable in my own skin. (I guess they know now... ) It's an ugly truth that I had to come to grips with over the course of this past year. (And, trust me, it is hard for me to admit this. Cause, although I am uncomfortable with myself and awkward at times, my pride defines me. I rarely admit to weakness.)
But, the other truth that became apparent in '06 is that I like myself. I just give too much credence to whether OTHER PEOPLE like me. Sad... but true. So, I have promised myself that 2007 will be a year where I will care less what other people think of me. And the thought of throwing caution to the wind and just being me... being ME... is so liberating.
So, that's my goal for the new year. I will be me. Without hesitation. I will DO me. Without procrastination. And, if people don't like me, so be it. I'll live. Cause I like me.
At any rate… I just want to take this time to thank all those people in my life who accept me for me 100%.
Special shouts to:
Lex – We've been girls forever! And, I just want to thank you for always being there and always supporting me in all that I do. Thanks for listening to me, thanks for caring about me, thanks for rooting for me and celebrating with me. You're the best. Stay up, mama!
Carlita – I am so glad that we reconnected. You're an awesome, amazing, kick-ass friend. I am so glad that you allowed me to share your special day with you. You deserve all the happiness in the world and I am so awestruck at the love that you and Jason have for one another. I hope to be able to find that same love one day… Love ya!
Kera – We just became friends this year, but I'm glad to have you around to talk to. You're the bomb, girl! (Yeah, I had to take it back for ya!) Thank for being a good friend… on such short notice.
Chrissy – MySpace can be the devil, no doubt about that. But, I am so thankful that it brought us back together. You're absolutely the sweetest person alive. I look forward to making more memories in '07.
My Cru Fam – I spend more time with you guys than I do with most other people. LOL! Thanks for keeping me informed, keeping me entertained and keeping me inspired. You guys are the best…
Happy new year!!
Edit to add: These people are still remarkably relevant in my life. Nothing has changed about that. But there are a slew of other people that I need to add to the list who have become influential and important just within 2007. I can't wait to write this year's version of this post.
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