Pulling It All Together

So I've had to lay low on the things I've been working on, but things are going so well. A chance encounter with a man who is politically tuned in in February has led to an incredible opportunity for me. I've been meeting new people and getting to take advantage of my degree in media in ways that I did not know I'd be able to do. If things go well (and based on the research, it should) there will first be a BANGING ass party, followed by a chance for me to have even more major opportunities.

Its unfortunate that I can't talk about things I'm up to, but there are a few people around me that I know would love to mess it up, so I'm staying mum until things are in place. But for those of you who are concerned, just know that your ignorance and pettiness only inspired me to up my game and take my ish to the next level. So THANK YOU!

On Not Wanting to Be "Her"

There weren't just one or two things that made me decide to leave my ex alone for good, it was several things. As time went on, and I'd moved out and we continued to deal with one another sexually, I knew that he would never change. I saw hints of his ex around and I was well aware that she blamed me for their breakup. While truthfully, my existence did play a part, the fact was that no matter what people choose to believe, I have little to no bearing on how a grown man chooses to operate. I saw her desperate bid to cling to him, just like my ex's David's skeezoid, Chloe's desperate bid to cling to a man and it hit me that I never wanted to become "her." We all know the story of some desperate old ass woman who has been with a man far too long, taking shit, fighting with his women, and all kinds of nonsense, just to hold on to a man who isn't worth a salt anyway.

A few days ago I got a call from a coworker who was in my neighborhood and needed a ride because her car broke down. With my luck, it was raining heavily and my driver side had gone off the track, leaving me in a horrible position. I'd heard my coworker talk about her "husband" (he's really her boyfriend, but as far as I'm concerned, if you haven't legally connected your asses, y'all are just shacking up) in the past. She showed up one day with a bruise on her arm and when questioned about it, she claimed it was a bite mark from freaky sex. Now I'm no forensic scientist, but I know what a bite mark looks like and it damn sure wasn't one.

Anyway, as the rain poured down into my open window, my coworker was in my car, but told me she needed to hop back out to go get her purse. Which would have been a quick dash, but her husband picked that time to call her and yell at her. He blamed her for the car dying (again, while a monsoon pours into my open window) and she sat there and argued with him, rather than getting out to get her damned purse.. Eventually she grabs it and we go park safely under a gas station awning while she continues to argue with him. I pointed out to her that at no time did he ever ask if she was okay. Most husbands or boyfriends would have stayed glued to the phone to make sure their woman was safe. Not this guy. She told me she wanted out and how unhappy she was. She'd ever told me previously that his whole family spoils him and she gets along with none of them. Eventually the tow truck driver arrived and she wondered if she had enough in her account to pay for the tow. I believe her husband made a quip about her fucking him for free service, when I heard her say to him "I'm not the kind of woman to do something like that."

Today at work, the same coworker told me and another woman that goes as far as cutting up her man's food, fucking him every morning and cooking his breakfast every day. She does all of this for the same man that didn't care enough to ask if she was okay when stranded in a rain storm. Later on today, she went on to say that she's happy with her man and that with enough love and time, he'll eventually come around. One of my (very few) faults is that I have a hard time hiding my feelings on my face. I try and I always fail. So as she goes on and on about how happy she is with him (I guess I made up the fucking rain storm and her husband having the nerve to curse her out before even making sure she was safe) and how good he is to her. I gave her a serious side eye and went back to the paperwork on my desk (one of the few times today I actually tended to it).

It was then that I realized that my coworker is another her. She is yet another woman clinging to an emotionally abusive relationship, hoping things will get better. I can't make her see the error in her ways, nor will I try. She's a grown ass woman and truthfully, I have my own problems. But while my heart breaks for this woman, I can look at her and know that she is one of the women I knew I never wanted to become. My booski, Love, definitely showed me what love and dedication is. And she damned sure doesn't have either.

Growth and Empathy

I just realized that it's been 5 months since I last wrote. School is still good. Got a B, knocking me down to a 3.75 gpa, but it still beats any other grades I've ever made. Love is still around. He loves my son and my son loves him so all is well.

Anyway, I encountered a situation this morning that after some reflection, let me know that I had to reach for my blog. This morning, when I awoke and reached for my phone, I saw a Facebook message from my homeboy's girlfriend, asking why I hadn't answered her previous question. I scrolled through and saw that she'd sent me an earlier private message that asked why I'd been hanging out with her boyfriend while she was working. My immediate thought was 'what the hell?'

My homie had told me a while ago that she'd taken issue to knowing that he and I had gone to grab a bite to eat a diner late one night and I was surprised he was still so steadfast on making things work with her despite the jealousy issue. My friend (who I could not identify if I wanted to) is a well-known person in Atlanta and works with people from all over. I knew that with his profession that he couldn't afford to have a jealous woman, but he shrugged to let me know he'd work through it so I let it go. And here we are.

I assured her that he and I are simply friends and that he's not fucking around on her and if he was, I'd know it. I also told her my own history of playing side chick and how much I'd learned from it, and I also assured her that to me there is nothing worse than a woman who plays cool in a woman's face while fucking her man. Even in my most questionable moments, that's a game I've never played. Only skanks roll like that. She even went on to ask me why I'd never made an attempt to get to know her or have contact with her like I do my homie. That's when I reminded her that I'd previously asked her when she planned on having a housewarming party for her new crib and also reminded her that I always made it a point to greet her when I saw her. She asked me to come to her crib. I fear no one, but I wasn't trying to walk into some bullshit between her and my boy so I called him first. He explained that he was out of town and yeah, shit was getting heavy with the two of them.

I hit her back and said I'd be willing to go and talk calmly with her, as I have nothing to hide, but I'd have my son with me. She said she wasn't in a good place to be around kids so she declined my company after all.

Quite truthfully, Malika from 10 years ago would have laid into her ass for coming at me like that. But I really did feel for her. I've been there. Loving a man but being so far gone, not knowing what's real and what isn't. But more than anything, this showed me how much I'd grown. I found myself genuinely feeling bad for her and trying hard to assure her that my friend is a good guy and that a night on the town, a weekend get away or some counseling would do them some good.

My heart goes out to them and I hope things get better, but I'm glad to be in a place in my life where peace and sanity comes before my desire to have a dude by my side. When I do get married, I know I'll be in a great space to receive it. In the meantime, I'll just work on making myself ready.

New Year, New Me, New Name

Much is the same in these parts (beautiful) so there are no complaints here. I even got back my grades from school and for the FIRST time in my life, I managed a 4.0. I couldn't be happier. Love was with me when I found out about my grades and he kissed me a congratulations as I cried tears of joy. It was only the perfect way to cap off a year that started off horrible at best.

I started out New Years Day 2013 wondering what the fuck was going on. I got some bad news that really hammered home to me that I was fucking up in a major way. Shit had gone from bad to worse. As much as I hated to, I needed to sit my ass down and reconsider a lot of things in my life. Although for a brief time I did fall back into some bad habits, a little over halfway through, it finally began to sink in that change was necessary.

Don't get it twisted here, I'm still the same snarky, insane individual we've all come to know and love. Just a bit more seasoned and wiser to take on the role with a much more keen eye. Having a loving and supportive beau certainly doesn't hurt the whole thing either. I wouldn't call myself new, per se, but definitely improved. I'm a lot more comfortable in my own skin. While there were decisions I may have questioned before, I now stand firmer in whatever I'd done or said. I lost someone who hadn't been much of a friend for the last year anyway, but still yeah, it kind of stings. In the meantime, the creativity of Love has me being a lot more expressive and I even managed to make his Christmas gift this year, something I'd never thought to do before. I've started making a bit of jewelry and my plan is to eventually start taking some drawing classes and then start painting on canvas, just as Love has done for years and I've always considered.

The more time I spend with him, the more confident I become that I want to be his wife. He brings out so much beauty and happiness and I love that even my friends see a great change in me and encourage me to go further into my relationship with him. We're obviously talking of taking the big leap before its all over with, and I look forward to the transition of being his new wife. But there remains a light apprehension in it all. It sounds so silly, but the idea of becoming his wife means I'll lose my name. I LIKE my name. Its fun, funky, pretty and refreshing, just like me! The only problem with it is that it keeps me associated with a past and some family that I'm not too keen on. I like the idea of changing my name to no longer be associated with them. But still, its my name. Its ME. Its who I am, and its who I've been for 33 years. We were out recently and I stared longingly at the flowers on the items in front of me. They were so pretty and delicate, yet strong and firm and colorful, just like me. It only brought it home for me what eventually changing my name means.

Still though, for all of the happiness and love that Love brings to my life, I'll take the transition just as I always do- I'll go dragging, kicking and screaming and pleading not to go. Just playing (kind of). I'm happy with where I am, and where I'm going and who I'm going with. I also trust that if the transition keeps things this happy, there is no where else to go but up, and I know he'll be up with me.