Solitude

Makes sense that this would be my first post of the year. I honestly can't believe that I've been chronicling my life for over a decade on here. It's like my own little corner of the world, and I'm thankful for that. I've felt huge amounts of guilt over the fact that 2020 was pretty good to me. I like to think that is the Universe's way of making up for the total shit show that I suffered throughout 2017. 

I turned 40 over the summer, and despite not being able to go to Jamaica for my birthday, as I'd planned, I'd say that my epic 10-city road trip certainly made up for it. Before I'd even got back to Atlanta, my former friends seemed to be dropping like flies. It was all stuff that needed to happen though. I don't really miss any of those friends. Well- I'm lying. I miss parts of their friendship. But overall, as I look forward, I'm thankful to the transition and I'm no longer feel obligated to hold onto people, especially if their actions tell me that they don't want or need to be held onto.

As December wound down and I began to reflect on 2020, another thing I'd thought about was how many men I'd given my heart to, only to be seriously let down. But I wasn't angry, I wasn't even sad. I was just tired. Since early childhood, I've always been a giver. A sufferer of emotional and physical abuse, I always felt that rather than perpetrating the abuse I'd suffered, I'd be the opposite and love the people around me. It's amazing that at the age of 40, I'm just now finding my voice and understanding that enough is enough. Recently, during a staff meeting, a coworker began to confess that she was beginning to suffer a bit of "compassion fatigue" while working with our clients. I felt her on that. While I don't feel that in my work place, I certainly am starting to feel it in my personal life. I feel like I've always given so much. Whether it be a ride, money, a couch to crash on, food, babysitting services, or just a comforting ear, I made it my mission in life to be available. But I'm tired.

During my self-talk about the upcoming year, I decided that I essentially would not be dating. Again, not mad, not angry, not sad or heart broken. Simply tired. I committed to making 2021 about building my career skills and goals, and more traveling. The only way I'll date any man is if he's absolutely serious about a relationship/marriage. No more going to men's apartment "just for drinks" and I'm honestly not even thinking about sex at the moment. The best thing about going into this is that my motivation is different. Rather than using this as some way to manipulate a relationship out of thin air, I'm simply going to allow myself to decompress from a lot of bullshit. I uninstalled Tinder and other dating apps I was on. All simply because I was no longer looking.

I tend to believe that the Universe tests our commitment in various ways. My test came fairly quickly. A guy who'd inboxed me several times over the last few years popped up. I'd always played him to the left, simply because he only reached out whenever I'd taken swaggy pics with celebs, and dressed to the nines. That particular guy had dozens of pics himself, dressed equally as sharp. I dismissed him because I saw what he posted online and noticed when he reached out. If he wanted a woman who would wear a beat face and a ballgown for a Target run, I obviously was not the woman for him.  His mother died because of COVID, and I did reach out to offer support. But other than that, our communication was minimal.

That guy reached out to me around the 4th or so. He inboxed, asking how I was. He said that I was simply on his mind. I let him know that going into 2021, my goals are career and travel and that the only men I'll give even the smallest amount of time to, are men who I'll see a serious future with. The guy expressed interest in joining me for my travel and dating. We talked briefly via video chat. He told me that he's well off, due to some investments he made, which I'll admit, was a definite bonus.

I reached my destination and agreed to contact him again that evening. I called, as I said I would. No answer. I wasn't pressed. A few hours later, I texted him to say that I wanted to talk to him to pick his brain on something. He texted me back to tell me that he was out, and that he'd call me on his way home. He did not. I wasn't pressed at that point either, but I definitely took notice.

The following day, he texted me a simple "hey." No mention of not calling me back the previous evening, just "hey." Oddly, I've grown to detest "hey" as a text message. As a giver, I've grown acutely aware of how often a man will text me "hey" and I'll reply with a smiley face and ask about how his day is. As I'm now in the space of reciprocating energy, I waited 15 minutes and replied with "hey." He did not respond. Just like I'd figured, he wanted me to show some kind of excitement about him reaching out to me. WRONG, playbwoi!!! A few hours later, I grew bored and called him. He didn't answer. A while later I got on the phone with a cousin of mine who was in the hospital after a recent heart attack. He called during that conversation, but obviously, I was not going to get off the phone with a hospitalized relative. I shot him a quick text message, letting him know that I'd call him back momentarily. Roughly 10 minutes later, I called him back. No answer. *sigh* Here we go with this shit... I knew already what it was. He wanted me to chase him. He wanted to be the rabbit, and me the hunter.

But what his punk ass forgot is that during our conversation yesterday, I told his ass that I wasn't with the shits. I told him that the only man energy I'm entertaining is about a real future, a partnership, not these frat boy games. On top of all else, after he did not respond to my phone call, I saw that he'd posted some kind of dumb ass statement on Facebook. He wanted me to know that he was dodging me. Know what I did?  *BLOCKED*

Fact is that I don't know that clown outside of Facebook and he didn't bring near enough to the table to start off on some b.s. I gotta admit, I'm proud of myself. Historically, it would have taken me several more months to look at this situation and recognize that he was on some mess. But as my career and travel is my focus now, anything that seeks to distract/hurt/irritate/annoy/disappoint me is going to get stopped at the door.

I've been catching up on the show "Insecure" lately. I looked at it on Friday night, and longed for the warm beaches of southern Cali. The fact is that I'm absolutely suffocating in Georgia, but I cannot move until my son is out of high school. My mother moved me in the middle of my sophomore year of high school, which really just set off a lot of depression. I've decided that I can't do that my own child, so I just gotta suck it up for now.

I awoke on Saturday and decided that I'd take a bit of a road trip to Chattanooga. I called a homegirl and she and another friend ended up meeting me there at a swanky hotel. We had an absolute ball, and during our first excursion, I was inspired to finally start writing. I sat in the middle of a restaurant, and later on, a bar. I was painfully aware of the people and the smoke around me, but it didn't matter, I needed to write, so I did.

The following day, after we parted, I opted to check out a used book store that I'd read about. I went first to the psychology section, which has become my favorite part of any book store that I visit. I found numerous books that I knew I could draw from with my clients. I later on went to the Buddhism section, which I found would offer further support in my practice, so I loaded up, looking forward to being able to use each and every one of them. 

So here I am, happy and ready to move forward. I'm alone, but for the first time, it's self-imposed, as opposed to not having a choice in the matter, something I'd previously had to just suck up and work through. I'm excited about the books I'm going to work on. I'm planning to obtain a professional license soon. 2020 set me up to set the world on fire in 2021. And I am thankful for that too.