Objects in the Mirror

Don't. Look. Back!

I try to remind myself if this overtime I see someone I use to know.  Someone I once called "friend".  Every time I get the "you were on my mind..." text or the "I've been meaning to..." message on FB.  It's really tiring trying to move forward and carry what was behind me at the same time.  I realize, now, that people like to keep atlas one toe in the doorway of your life so they can tiptoe in and out, unnoticed, when it's convenient.

I am learning that the farther I walk, the smaller things look in my rearview. People become distant. Grow apart. Grow up. Grow out. Whatever you want to say. We say things are just different, but what? When did it become different? We like to say that it is nothing, but it's everything because we always have that nagging wonder of "What happened?" in the back of our minds. You always wonder. I wonder.

In a nutshell, Ive come to the conclusion that it's one person in the act of walking, moving, and the other is standing still. Perspective. Change is always closer than it appears and we just have to be ready for it. Maybe I just missed the signs. Wasn't paying attention to the exits all along friendship highway. I thought we were going one way, but it turns out that they had already chosen their exit, but they wait until you stop at a gas station for snacks because they can't go on their way without the nourishment you provide. They have to have something to remember you by right? Unfortunately, you don't have a say in what they take. You just happen to look up one day and it's gone/

A little bit of your love, kindness, compassion, understanding, and patience is gone. Possibly forever. One can never truly know if it'll return. The day always comes that you see them on that same highway. Thumb out. Wanting a ride. Again. What do you do? Speed by and look at them through the rearview? Peel all the way out? Fishtail a little so you can hit them with a little gravel? I don't have the answer to that right now, but I'm riding on cruise control until I find it.

WOLVERINE

I've wrestled with myself,constantly, about what I am about to share. Needless to say, it is a very touchy subject for me, but in honor of "No Shave November" I figured, it is what it is. (Who gone check me?) I have to be comfortable in MY skin. So, this post is entitled "Wolverine" for several reasons, but I'll share the two main ones. First being that I NOW find it most amusing, but not so much back in the day when people took liberties with calling me this name, among several others, which is the second reason for the title.
  
  I grow facial hair. There. I said it and it's "out" in the open though , technically, it's always out in the open.  I don't grow it because I want to, I don't grow it because I like it, I certainly do not grow it because I am of the male species or because I use to be nor because I intend to be. It wasn't a choice I would have made for myself, but it is here. Having a hormonal imbalance, can do that. It can also make males grow breast, but that's neither here nor there my friends.  How was I suppose to know that back then though? How could I have known that in 8th grade it would begin to grow? Or maybe it was always there and I never noticed until I was made, painfully, aware of its presence waaaaaaaay back in the 8th grade.
  
  Ladies and gentleman, cats and dogs, this has been the bane of my existence for so long andddddd I'm over it.  I consider this to be one of my deepest darkest secrets, but it's out in the day light now. Feels good to "say" it out loud, to put it out into the atmosphere. To let people know that yes, I am aware of it, and no you don't have to make me aware. Thanks.  Oh and here's a "real" shocker, I'm not the only one. Gasps! Just because you can't see it, doesn't mean its not there. Remember that.  I've met plenty of females with mustaches, beards, and the like. Or stachee-o's( pronounced Stash-She-O) as my beloved husband would say. It's kinda not a big deal unless you are dealing with idiots most of the time like I did/was/am.
   
  It's so easy to pick up on the so called "imperfections" of others to take the attention away from our own. Sigh. So sad, truly that people kill themselves all the time for stuff like this and less. I won't lie, it was/is definitely a struggle trying to keep the hair off, just to be acceptable to others. Doing everything I could to keep the hair off, except using a razor. I'm just now figuring out how to kinda sorta control it and I'm 28. 14-15yrs, I've been dealing with this thinking that it was more than I can bare when it's really nothing compared to what I COULD be going through. I thank God for his covering because I could have been one to do harm or even kill myself and for what…Insecure people who are dealing with their own lack and intend to make me(you) feel lackluster about myself(yourself)? No thanks. I could easily be negative toward others right now, because I truly have enough ammo, but I won't because I'm cool like that.

  Bless the hearts and minds of those who still find great joy in finding and exploiting the flaws of others. I pity you. Really and truly. You'll never experience TRUE joy. SO, in conclusion, while you are busy focusing on someone else's beard, you NEED TO BE taming your own. #everybodywontcatchthat #noShameNovember

Reflection from the Couch

It's official. I have turned into one of those people who can sit for hours and watch allllllll spiritual television channels. I can remember my grandparents, or any older person for that matter, when I was younger watching either The Price Is Right, Murder She Wrote, Matlock, the Andy Griffith Show, or anything spiritual. I also remember believing that this was prime time torture for me! Who in their right mind can sit and just watch this stuff. Was I being punished? What did I do to deserve this?!? I couldn't stand it, but as I grow I understand the significance of the spiritual shows. The jury is still out on the other shows. You probably won't catch me watching any of those at this point, but you may catch me watching me a little Joyce Meyer. 

I realize that it is all about my personal growth. Of course, as a kid I may not have understood the purpose of listening to people preach on television. It wasn't speaking to me back then, but my God, it is speaking to me now. As I learn and grow in Christ it is evident that I am being changed from the inside out. He speaks to me all the time now. I don't always listen, but he does speak. I now value the things that had no value at one point. I don't want to confuse anyone and have them to believe that I "live next door to Jesus" because that is not the case. I am ME all day everyday, but I am a new and slightly more improved ME. I am different. I am changed. I am being changed and I accept that change. The good part about it all is that God loves me as I am today, not as I will be in the future. He knows that I am a work in progress. The problem comes when people don't understand that WORK that God is performing in me/you. It's all about the connection being made with God. Nothing else matters. I thank God for my new/renewed understanding.

The Wedding: In the End

For the finale, I am just beginning to have fun with my siblings when my mama walks in and says that she is ready to go...alright then. Everything is coming to an end and I am starting to feel a little better and figure this whole thing out. Did everything go according to plan? Hell no.  Was it perfection? No. Was it what I envisioned? Absolutely not!  Everything was smooth sailing until the last couple weeks leading up to the Wedding. All hell broke loose at the VERY LAST MINUTE, but I wouldn't trade the experience. In the end it's not about the niggas that BEGGED to attend the wedding and then not show up. It's not about the niggas who you considered to be friends, not showing up, not telling you they weren't coming until the next day on FB via a status, as if they couldn't call you. How selfish is that though seriously? It's not about the dress, the flowers, the decor, the cake, which was banana flavored by the way. It's not about who came and who didn't.  It's ALL about walking down that aisle, to the person you know for a FACT that you are suppose to spend the rest of your days with. It's about your connection. It's about uniting, as one, against the world. It's about starting a new life, new chapter.  

My advice to anyone who is getting married or thinking about it is this, make sure you are both on the same page. As long as you both agree then it's fine. People on the outside should have no say so because it's not about them. It's about the people who exchanged those Vows. If you want a big/small wedding, by all means, go for it. Just know that people are going to be people and that entails a lot. Be ready for anything. Things probably won't go according to what you envision, but keep your eye on what's important.

I didn't have a very traditional wedding because that's not what I wanted. Your wedding should be a reflection of you. Of course, everyone will have an opinion, but we know what they say of opinions... In some people's eyes I didn't do a lot of things "the way it should have been done" and I don't care. All I care about is the man that was waiting on me at the end of that aisle. Smirking at me. Reassuring me. 

The Wedding: In the Middle...

Soooooooooo, picking up from "the shop", I'm headed back home to pick up some items and people. I get there and our, at the time, very small apartment is overflowing with people and I'm not very happy once I get there because we are so far behind schedule that I could spit! Anyway, I walk in and I am greeted by everyone and my flower girls, who are also natural babies, hair is so puffy that I just can't stand it. I look at my mama and say two words. Fix. It. Apparently, she had semi pressed their hair, which would have been fine, if it had remained pressed. At this point I'm struggling with my attitude. I'm trying to round people up and I still have a BM doing her hair. Tsk tsk tsk. Finally, we get out and on the road. My mama has a phobia of the bridge and all the "big trucks",  so she's driving like somebody's very ancient grandma. I am now driving so of course, I am driving all kinds of miles over the speed limit, but I slow down once I see my mama waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay behind me. Di-sas-ter! I couldn't believe any of this was happening.

    Okay so, eventually we make it to the church. Our church is down a dirt road and negroes are absolutely acting as if they have 1: never seen a dirt road and 2: their cars are very expensive. I'm met by the photographers, whom are now trying to get in as many photos as they can before the ceremony. I'm getting dressed and I realize that I have left my garter and actual wedding shoes at home. Great. Snap. Snap. Snap go the cameras as I try to force a smile because by now I. Am. Furious. Thinking to myself, why did I agree to this again? what purpose does it serve? Out of everything that has happened, I still insist on starting on time and we do. People seem to be amazed that everything was happening without them. How dare we start on time and not wait for them...I swear the audacity of people some times baffles me. With Vows exchanged, hands shook, and people recognized it's time for the piece de resistance(I couldn't do the little accented e, but you know what I mean), the Reception.


Ugh, what can I say about the reception...It was wall to wall, ninjas, up in there. They beat us there, because they skipped the ceremony. Yes, these were real deal ninjas, death stars and everything. Since, we were so behind schedule I had to rush all of my reception "moments" because at this point the photographers were being real BICKS. Pardon my language. People I did not know or had ever seen before were at the Reception. They were very much un-welcomed and uninvited people. Pissed. Me. Off. In real ninja fashion when it was time to eat, the people who were NOT invited, hop their happy asses in line first. Just piling it on their plates. Mountains of meatballs, chip, and dip passing by the room where I was sitting. I believe I saw to go plates, but that's another story. So as the food dwindled so did the people, which made happy. It probably made me happier than it should have.  Also, in real ninja fashion, there were less gifts brought than people present. To me that was a problem. You couldn't even bring a damn card? No best wishes? If I can help it, I try not to go to anything empty handed. It doesn't have to be the most expensive thing, but you should put forth some effort. It's the principle. Lord have mercy! I'm about to wrap this up because just thinking about it makes me want to throw hands all over again.

To be continued...

The Wedding: In the beginning...

    I married my soul mate, love of my life, October 13, 2012. Our anniversary is upon us and I have been reflecting heavily on everything that happened last year around this time. Our colors were Blush, Black, and Ivory. I had four bridesmaids and he had four groomsmen. There were four flower girls, one ring bearer, my beloved baby brother Mr. Riley, and four hostesses. I was accompanied down the aisle by my ever so dashing brother, Tremayne. The weather was superb. It had rained the night prior and I remember thinking disastrous thoughts, but the next day the sky was clear and delightfully blue. It honestly looks fake in the pictures. Although the weather was picturesque the day was not going according to plan. Let me just say that from the BEGINNING I did not want a wedding. 

    

   Moving right along, I had a hair appointment to get to early that A.M. and being a natural girl I was nervous about how that was going to turn out. My mama was suppose to be at my place of residence, with the entire clan, early that morning so we could all be in one place once hair and make up was done. Two of the bridesmaids spent the night with me and one picked me up that faithful morning. My MOH was on point as usual. She was on time picking me up and we were on our way. While in route to "the shop" I get a call from my mama asking me should she bring everybody with her...seriously? This is when the day begins to go all the way south. The plan was to be in Arkansas at a certain time to take pics before the actual ceremony. By now I'm sure you can tell that never happened for me. Nooooooooope. Didn't happen. 

   

    Fast forward to the point where my mama actually makes it to the shop. She is now resisting the ENTIRE reason for her coming, which was HAIR/MAKEUP. How is that? One of my sisters allowed someone to give her the WORST possible sew in that I have ever seen, so she is not happy either. At this point, focus is going everywhere except where it should. Not to sound selfish, buuuuuuut it was suppose to be about me. What I wanted. What I discussed with people months prior. I'm mad as hell about this sew in, about my mama's tardiness/resistance, among other things, etc. 

To be continued...