On being American & considering marriage to a Kuwaiti National Guardsman: I’m not mad at him; I just know we can’t be together.

I’m not mad at him; I just know we can’t be together.

I know he wants forever, connection with me. I know he dreams; but he also knows his reality.

We could kiss forever, admire one another eternally. We could bring forth children that were clever, critical thinkers and free.

We could encourage the health of one another with the meals that we’ve cooked, making sure to never overlook the sweet pleasures in life. I could have been his wife.

He could have been my man, my helping hand, my lover’s rock. Too bad it didn’t happen though.

Too bad money became his captain, his guiding seas. Too bad he loved his money more than he loved me.

It’s too bad he lives in a country that suppresses his liberty, a place where his employer controls his matrimony. Beginning a marriage with an American is a felony… unless you start all over again.

And Again was something he couldn’t do. Couldn’t throw away 5 years of hard work just to be with his boo. Couldn’t stand not being a bread winning man, not even just for a few. He needed to take care of me, protect me, guide me, whatever he needed to do.

When a man needs help, it’s hard to come to, because he has to allow his woman to be strong, to take care of him too.

All easier said than done. I’ve come to a place where I know what I want. Or should I say, what I need, because I can’t stay with a man that won’t commit to me.

More than a pretty ring or a wedding invitation, I need someone that’s going to assist in the creation of a unit: 1 family, 1 home, 1 lifetime.  I need him to bank on our time spent together.  I need him to adore me even through stormy weather.

But I’m a traveling woman and a traveling woman must find doors to walk through, always seeking the next level, unless… he came along, or I was willing to stay. Either way, we had some serious decisions to make.

So he chose is money, his security and his 5 years of hard work. He chose to base our future on his potential income instead of basing it on my worth.

What’s a risk taken without a commitment to see it through? A bluff to give time, time to enjoy the woman who’s willing put in effort, effort to support you, with or without your ability to financially contribute. But you’re only in this as long as your money plans work out for you, because if they don’t, we’re over and this just wont continue.

And for that reason honey, I’m not mad at you. I just know that our time is up, and we can’t be together.

Bag Lady Has a New Man

As much as I thought I would love to be in a loving relationship, now that it’s at my doorstep, or more so, inside my house, I’m scared as hell.  Things were easy when I could feel comfort in knowing that he did not know everything about me; and this kept my feelings at bay.  But now that he does know, I’m drifting into the deep oceans.  Nothing opens my heart more than knowing that someone can see me  fully and still want me.

It’s like I just can’t let go and allow myself to be put in the position to be hurt.  I guess this makes me a bag lady because heartache still feels so near.  I’m scared to DEATH to be hurt again. 

I almost want to break up with him just so that I can feel normal again.  It’s funny how you think you’ll never get used to being single and then suddenly, that’s your past.  Next thing you know, you’re missing the comfort of knowing that no one can hurt you because you’re not committed. 

This may sound crazy, but I almost want to stop talking to my boyfriend for a while just to get to that place were I feel in control again.  

Otherwise, I’m just falling.

Standards vs. Expectations: looking at love & relationships from a new perspective

They tell you that a man will do to you, whatever you allow him to do.  Let me be the first to say that this is 100% true.

But we all know that sometimes… things just aren’t that simple/easy/black & white.  Sometimes you honestly and truly LOVE someone, unconditionally even.

Agape love is present-life nirvana from my perspective, in that it frees us from wordly expectations.  It’s still standing when reason has fallen long ago; 15 years ago, to be exact.  But…

I have realized that every person is entitled to having standards for how they want to be treated and cared for.  I have them.  They aren’t astronomical but they do require commitment.

In order for people to meet these standards they must fulfill certain expectations.  Although sometimes, human beings fall short of them.  What do we say when a son fails to call his dad for father’s day, or when a grandchild misses her grandmother’s appreciation dinner?  The standard was there, though the expectation wasn’t met.  But year after year, we love our family anyway.

When you can’t choose who you love, you learn to love them for who they are.  Cliche, but oh-so-true.

As a special educator for high school kids, I have learned so much about setting high standards for even the most challenged of children.  They are all capable and they all have the same expectations.  But they all do not reach them at the same time or in the same way.  What matters only, is the desire to learn for themselves.

I thank God for a man that loves God, and is in turn ready to learn to love me.  As a result, I am learning to let love, period.  I’m learning that love is no mold nor model.  It’s fluid and looks different for each union, unique in every way.  Love is the product of Us and for that, I am patient and willing to deal with what’s right in front of me.  No fairytales.

With that said, I am sure that I am still reaching his expectations as well.  🙂 In fact, I have no doubt in my mind!  I over analyze things and can tend to beat a dead horse.  I’m also a bit fixed and can stand to learn to Let Go.  But what’s special is that we both believe in each other and what we’re willing to do for our love.  We believe that we’re meant for one another.  That, cliche or not, means EVERYTHING.

So I guess I’ll be expecting Us to reach Our standard of love.  Until then, I’m thinking Florida might be a good place for us to move… What do you think? 😉

Traveling Woman: a poem by FeministLiving

Walking through life one heal click at a time

allowing my mind to travel ahead of me,

hunting for lessons of wisdom.

I keep my head down sometimes to keep from tripping over the uneven pavement,

bumping into the stop sign at the corner.

And yes it’s true, I do still love her.

But I’m new now! Embracing my body and feeling my worth

with just enough love to give birth to serenity

despite all the shit I got to do.

Consciously uplifting psyche to get through the days news.

Jogging just a bit to pick up the pace

and I still can’t get there fast enough.

My heart knows my mind all to well and it’s calling my bluff

so I take 2 puffs and watch my troubles pillow float away.

With nothing left behind but Me

Wrapped up in Divinity and feeling the closeness of omnipotence.

I put God first and She revealed to me what love truly meant.

Not romance or slow jams to hum to.

Only the wind quest-steady around me,

aware of the realities that I succumb to.

I live my life inside of my shoes.

And while some call me near and others crazy,

I remain in the middle with some serious decisions to make.

I breathe deeply and take 2 more,

just to make sure that I transcend higher than this;

higher than wanting to be kissed by those who don’t matter.

Avoiding the noise of a heart once again, shattered.

But honestly, the clicking that I hear from the pump to the pavement

sounds much more promising than a rushed engagement to you,

or anyone else for that matter.

And if I had to choose between the 2,

I would choose the latter because Victory is closer here.

And no longer will I allow life to drive me into a brick wall.

Although sometimes my voice resonates with moans of fatigue,

nothing is greater than preserving myself for longevity

and I know this.

A lot to do with friends telling you to take one day at a time,

just to look up and see that I’ve fallen behind?

No, I refuse.  Move, that’s what I do.

Traveling in haste

I’m in a rush to make it to a new space.

A change of scenery.

A place where the sun can’t tell time

and the milk of my bosom feeds the minds of those who have thirst.

Where green really does grow on trees legally

and I can carry this earth in my purse.

My eyes are big in this place of awesomeness

Indulging in sweet sexual bliss and a kiss on the cheek

with dream catchers hanging above my bed so the past won’t bother me.

Money is nonexistent because wealth is always inside of me.

And this is a space where my favorite song plays.

Where my father establishes our history

and my mother decides to bless me no matter who I choose to fuck.

Girl, boy, mythical creature, whomever fills my cup.

But for right now I drive with caution through stormy weather

or at least the aftermath.

Because whoever said

a heart’s wisdom was a few short miles away?

Whomever promised a laugh?

“Reprogram your relationship.”

That’s what my mother said to do.

Sometimes we fall in love with men that don’t act right.  They are selfish, unkind at times, and downright disrespectful even.  Or sometimes they just can’t seem to give themselves to you.  Whatever the case, my mom’s got a solution for you: kick his ass to the curb.

Lol.  I love my mother’s advice, although I am weary due to her own present day single status.  But up until now, I would say she’s on to something.

I never saw myself being played like some “bitch” over a guy, but sure enough, it happened (to the best of us They say).  Being late, not showing up at all, and just straight up not making a priority out of me…  I am a woman of action so if it’s not being done, then it’s not being felt, and that’s what hurts the most.  Time and time again, for a year, this guy let me down.

It was new behavior to me because since we were 9, he had always did what he said he was going to do; and to his credit yes, we’ve had some wonderful times together in the past year.  But I am a Taurus and we like consistency.  Moreover, I think any human being could appreciate that.  Not to say that people don’t make mistakes, but not the same ones over and over again.  After a while it just becomes careless and I care, f*ck that.

So I walked away… and I’m lonely as hell.  But not as lonely as I was before.  I still love him and he knows this, but I don’t speak to him because I can’t hear his voice.  I canceled plans to visit because the sight of his big sexy self will surely cause temporary amnesia; and sure enough, he’ll be back at that silly, inconsiderate behavior again.

This is long distance, might I add, and we aren’t in a committed relationship.  We are just to old friends who’ve gotten together somewhat recently, had sex, and have casually discussed marriage.  Yea I know, marriage.  Really?  But this is his doing, not mine.  Game… could be.  Honestly, I hope it’s not.  Why, I don’t know.  I love him?

I do… since the 3rd grade.  We’ve gone our separate ways throughout the years, but he’s always found me.  This time it was on Skype.  🙂

See! That smile right there.  That’s what I can’t help.  If I could draw a picture of a beautiful man, it would look like him.  Big, strong and healthy, deep black skin.  Ooh! Don’t get me started… Girl, bye. smh lol

He was the first time I ever fell in love with dark skin.  I had 2 boyfriends at the time, him and a light-skinned boy.  Up until that point, all of the boys I liked were light skin with curly hair.  He was chocolate with a fade.  (The last time I saw him, I rubbed Shea butter on that skin and it came to LIFE.)  He made me choose, him or Light Skin.  I chose him.

His mind is instinctual.  He thinks for himself.  He knows me, so he respects my mind, admires it even.  I love it when he looks at me, like he can’t believe what’s in front of his eyes.   He supports me in my work and keeps me focused.  But he sucks at keeping time and promises.  That’s big.

He says he wants to marry me and has been saying that since we were little.  But this is the first time it ever meant anything to me and this was the first time he actually discussed us being meant for one another.  I want to marry for love.  But not if love comes with constant heartache.  I understand marriage works in cycles (says my Godmother), but I can’t deal with no man I can’t believe in.  Period.

So what do I do?  I wait.  Why?  Because I can’t stop thinking about him; and because I’m even starting to think that it may be unfair to spend time with another man right now.  It’s not their fault they’re not him and I can’t have conversation without leading them on.  Even for men that are fine as hell, I’m so lack luster.  We shall see in the future of course but as for now, I’m involuntarily waiting.

We chose not to commit because of the distance obviously, we’re human.  We both need to finish school.  I  know he’s sorry and that’s great, but I need time; and quite frankly, so does he.  He is still a young man.  He needs time to take care of himself.  Until then, who knows what will happen.  2 years is a long time.  A lot can change. I can change.

So ode to the single 40 something year olds out there who are still holding it down for high standards, which is really a misnomer.  We are leaders, mothers, God workers and the anchor to the human family tree.  Respect yourself.

And stop watching these TV shows and reading these books that perpetuate this narrative of unhealthy black love.  I challenge the popular mantra and argue that black love is beyond a marital license, especially since we weren’t always allowed to have one.  Draw a picture of that.