Honor Among Hoes

I announced recently that I'm going to be moving to Los Angeles in roughly *looks at watch* 2 days. I'm excited. So excited. But that's not what this post is about, so simmer down. Anyway, I'm making my rounds to my loved ones, in an attempt to spend time and make my last moments in town count. I'm visiting and taking pics with all of my friends and family, and eating at my favorite restaurants, in the middle of cleaning out my home as I get ready to move cross country (yay me!) and undergo a new adventure. Anyway, that's for a post for another day. Back to the story at hand.

I met with a good friend yesterday. Our sons are about the same age, and the woman (who is married) and I share a long, beautiful friendship. I essentially consider her and hers my family. There was, however, at one point another woman in the fold. I'll call her Sheryl. I've spent many a day with Sheryl, and her child, who she'd bring over, to play with me and my friend's boys. We'd all gather at my friend's home on holidays and birthdays. Sheryl brought her (then) boyfriend around and he and the guys would all hang downstairs and watch tv, as the ladies cackled upstairs and got wine drunk. It was a pretty nice vibe.

But one day, I noticed that Sheryl was no longer around. It wasn't like her to miss holidays and birthdays with all of us. I inquired about her absence, but no one seemed to have answers, so I let it go. One day, I inboxed Sheryl on social media and asked why she hadn't been around. She said that she felt abandoned by my friend for her lack of presence in her life during a some family turmoil. I encouraged her to keep trying, but she said that she was simply over it. Again, I let it go.

Last night, I met with the family and allowed my son to play with my friend's son and started saying my goodbyes. I begged my friend for a final night of girl talk and wine, just the two of us, as I've had some things to ponder for a while now. While her husband was away, and the boys were off doing whatever teenage boys do, I encouraged my friend to patch things up with Sheryl in my absence. My friend asked what Sheryl had told me. I try not to go relaying messages, but I informed her that Sheryl said that she'd felt abandoned by the family after the death of a loved one.

My friend made a face that let me know she wasn't buying it. That's when she laid it on me. My friend suspected Sheryl of either already sleeping with her husband, or plotting to do so. She talked about how one day the family ate with Sheryl and how every time my friend's husband needed something, Sheryl would jump up and grab it, before my friend even could. My friend felt flirty vibes coming off of Sheryl in how she talked to him and joked about hating him. My friend said that she is aware of what flirting looks like from Sheryl and that her women's intuition let her know that something in the milk wasn't clean.

Eventually, my friend asked her husband point blank "what's up with you and Sheryl?" The husband (obviously) denied anything but immediately after, Sheryl simply stopped coming around. That was it. My friend said that she'd tried to reach out several times, but Sheryl went radio silent. She said that later on, Sheryl messaged her about problems within her own family, but my friend wasn't buying it. The timing of her disappearance was just too obvious.

Yikes. Yikes and wow. I won't lie, I've had my own (stupid) indiscretions with 2 married men. The most recent was a good friend of mine. I'd always been attracted to him, but because he was married, I tried like hell to say no. I went for it anyway. Not something I'm proud of. But that was several years ago. Ever since then, I don't do it. I won't do it. I've had countless opportunities, but I resist them all. It's just too much energy and work. And the fact is that I love deep and I love hard. Giving my time, my heart, and my emotions to a man who isn't available like that just isn't a good idea for me. 

But in all my ratchet moments, there is one thing that I absolutely cannot and will not do. And that is, fucking a woman's man while pretending to be her friend. That's just not okay to me. As someone who has experienced so much from so many people, I've witnessed how much people will do as long as others aren't aware. Again, I've seen so many married men, whose wives would never suspect, that they are married to complete man whores. I've seen people hide drug habits, money problems, emotional issues, all kinds of stuff. Even more so since I started working in mental health. You'd be amazed at the secrets that people hide from their loved ones. So I've come to feel that we cannot control what others do when we are not around. Some of the happiest and strongest marriages that I know of contain regular amounts of adultery. I'd never say who (obviously), but it exists more than many of us care to realize or accept.  And perhaps that's why I'd become more accepting and non-judgmental about dalliances of others. In the words of Uncle Kracker, 

"As long as no one knows, then nobody can care." 

Do what you do homie, but keep it clean. But being in a woman's home and face while screwing her man is just wrong. I could never hold a woman while she's crying, laugh with her during her good moments, cheer her on, watch her kids, break bread with her, all the while, plotting on her husband. That's just not okay. And perhaps a woman with my history isn't one to judge, afterall, I've been honest  about my past.

Still though, I make it a point to maintain a respectful distance from my friends' husbands, because I just don't want or need static. A childhood friend of mine got married some years ago, and while she's not on Facebook, her husband is. He and I laugh and banter a lot on the open streets of Facebook, but no inboxing. The only phone calls have regarded actual business. I was once considering buying a house and I called her before I called her husband, to let her know that I wanted some real estate advice. She responded "Malika, you don't have to tell me or get my permission that you're about to talk to him." But I know. I know all too well. I know what an easily slippery slope that can become. So while I respect her complete trust in both me and her husband, I'm still painfully aware of not putting myself in a position to be tempted or have my motives questioned.

I hold my friendships in high regard. If you're my friend, you're not just my friend, you're my family. I've let countless people sleep on my couch, given money, rides, an ear, support. My homegirls are my absolute lifeline. Do what you do sis, but don't be messy with it. Don't get me wrong, I'm not in these streets telling women to go fuck married men. If nothing else, I warn against it. I know all too well about the stigma and the drama that comes with it. I pride myself on a peaceful life, and the last thing I ever want or need is a woman popping up at my house, coming to me "woman to woman", calling or texting my phone. My life is too blissful for all of that. So I decline to engage. But I'm also a realist.

I could write a million blogs, I could have countless conversations, I could tell my story a thousand times over, and the fact is that humans are going to do what they do. Adultery did not start with my birth and it will not end with my death. Humans are sexual creatures who are want to do what makes them feel good both emotionally and sexually. Some humans are just cleaner, smarter, and more honorable than others.

Do what you do sis. I can't stop you or judge you. But keep it clean.

Patio and Wine

So in refraining from dating, I've had a lot of time to reflect. What I want, what I don't want. Mistakes I've made, mistakes I've allowed others to make at my expense. I think in some ways, it allowed me to grow way outside of my shell and really decide upon the woman I want to be as I move forward.

I've got a friend I'll call Curtis. Curt and I have known one another for some years now. He's always made me laugh and feel secure. We've shared our dating experiences with one another and asked for insight on multiple occasions, growing a lot closer in the process. Curt has been telling me about how things haven't gone well in his his most recent relationship, although he's trying hard to make things work.

He's expressed frustration that in his own home, he can't simply turn on the tv and watch television, because despite the size of their home, there's another person constantly posted up. He expressed that he'd like to be able to watch the game and enjoy a beer, without all of the extra mess.

That really got me to thinking. That as I've worked to determine what I'd like and what would constitute peace for me, what does my happy look like? I'm leaving my former job, which it turned out was quite a toxic environment for me. I'm thankful for what I learned there, but towards the end, I suffered terribly. I recall how the day before my last official day of work, I literally sat in my car and cried. I'd gotten to the point of sleeping sometimes 12 full hours at night, the result of being emotionally exhausted by the time I got home.

While chatting with Curt about ultimately what I wanted, it hit me. All I wanted at the end of the day, was to come home and enjoy a quiet glass of wine on my patio. That's it. I don't want or need bells and whistles. I don't need to be a superstar. I'm cool with a job that is ultimately just a peaceful experience. At the end of the day, I just want to sit out on my patio, light a candle, pour a glass of wine, throw on some soft music, and enjoy my own company, or perhaps the company of another person with comparable end of the day goals. 

My patio and a glass of wine. Sounds nice. 

Triangulation (and junk)

So today is mother's day. Those that know me well know how much I hate this day. While some people see it as a time to honor their rock star mothers, for me, it just serves as a reminder of what a shitty person mine was. I no longer carry any guilt she tried to put off on me and I find solace in knowing that I have a remarkable relationship with my son, which was inspired by my desire to be a greater maternal figure than mine ever was. I suppose I can say that I'm lucky, in being able to transfer my need to be loved to my stepmother, who is undeniably one of the kindest and most incredible human beings to walk this planet. I'm working on getting her to legally adopt me (seriously). Granted, my own mama ain't shit, but my step mother is a true gift from God. I talk to other adults who don't have healthy maternal figures, and I often hope those same people at some point find a healthy mother figure like I did, even if we got close in my 30's.

Anyway, I, like most adults with shitty parents, buried that mess deep. On an average day, I am able to get out of bed, get dressed, go to work and be productive. I give myself credit for that, because many people struggle to even do that much. I should know, it is my job to work with them. 

On occasion, I consider the idea of going to therapy to work all of this out. But I have to be in an emotional space that will allow that. I'm currently going through a few things (that I can't discuss here, unfortunately), so once again, I gotta bury it and move forward. But I think it's starting to bubble to the surface.

Long story short, for the 3rd time in my life, I'm being attacked on some Mean Girls crap. I really hate saying that, because I'm well aware of that old adage of "who's the common denominator?" But the fact is, I genuinely don't do anything. As I've often done here, I own my shit. The good, bad, and ugly, I acknowledge it. I apologize when I'm wrong. On top of that, I want people to tell me when I'm wrong. There have been countless times in my life where people have had to hip me to where I messed up. I'm human. I'll own that. I honestly use criticism to make me stronger. So I'm now in a place where I'm just trying to figure out what it all means.

What makes being on this end so painful is that the same people who you have helped and held down start bringing up everything you've ever done wrong (with no chance to defend yourself, and while you refrain from throwing the same kind of dirt). Suddenly, you're on the outside, looking in, as the same people you once considered peers, treating your name like a doormat. You get it, because no one wants to lose their position within the circle, so those that see how poorly you are being treated only offer their support in private.

Coincidentally, I get along great in actual one on one relationships. I have countless friends and acquaintances. Those that know me independently will attest that I'm kind, loving, fiercely loyal, alla dat. I also find that when there are actual cliques that involve men, this triangulation shit isn't nearly as effective. Men tend to look past all of the gossipy shit, identify the facts, acknowledge that I really haven't done anything wrong, and our friendships maintain, even if the women leave.

Another commonality that I've identified for whenever I'm on the receiving end of this, the queen bee tends to be some miserable bitch. Real stuff. I've been a pretty happy-go-lucky person my whole life. I've always been a hippy. My overall disposition is cheerful. Buddhism only helped that along, as it aided me in ridding myself of unhealthy thoughts. But for the 3 times in my adult life that I've been "here", I can identify exactly who the miserable bitch is. I was discussing this whole thing with my homeboy yesterday. He told me that some years ago, he implemented a "no dick riders" rule. I get it. Two of the women who went the hardest to turn groups of people against me, were women I called best friends. Both of them suffered poor self-esteem, which I often tried to boost with words of encouragement. Both women complained of not getting the male attention that I do, when the fact is that I tried hard to explain to them that having a bunch of random men willing to lie, cheat, and steal all in the effort of bedding you is not all it's cracked up to be. Both women constantly identified things I had that they wished they'd had. Whether it be my hair, men, the fact that people tend to like me, or just the fact that I walk to the beat of my own drum. I thought they admired me. Secretly, they wanted to take away the happiness that they felt I didn't deserve.

The current miserable bitch has openly complained that her children are going down a bad path and she's struggling with them. Meanwhile, my son is one of the most amazing little creatures ever and doesn't give me problems at all. This particular miserable bitch has also demonstrated some racist tendencies (she's white) which only furthers this along. I'm tired, y'all.

So anyway, this morning, while grocery shopping, I was walking by patrons, cheerfully carrying balloons and flowers, once again reminding me that my mama ain't shit. I called Stepmommy this morning, and we both agreed that Mother's Day is shit, so I don't feel obligated to show up with a bunch of shit at her house. Back to what I was saying, as I strolled those aisles, something hit me like a bolt of lightening. No, I didn't have this Mean Girl triangulation shit among my friends when I was a child.

I experienced it in my own fucking family.

I was suddenly transformed to how one of my sisters would be angry with me and suddenly call my mother and/or my other sister to complain about me. Suddenly all three of them were messaging me, calling me all kinds of shitty people. At no point was I ever defended. Now, I've had them occasionally admit to me privately that I've been the odd woman out since I was given birth to, and that I was clearly my mother's least favorite child. But in front of one another, they were like a pack of wild dogs. Picking at any bit of happiness, worth, self-esteem, or hope they could identify.

I guess the good is that I didn't take that realization as bad as I probably would have some years ago. I'm not going to take to my bed for days. I'm not going to stop my overall happiness or productivity. I'm not going to abandon my creative endeavors. I'm not going to call my friends and family crying. I'll deal with this the best way I know how. Which means, I have no fucking clue what to do with this.

Like, is this an energy thing? Is this one of those things where they say that if you don't identify and work through it, you're doomed to repeat it? Am I cursed? Is there something about me that makes it so that I cannot peacefully co-exist within a group of women?

The bad is that today is again, mother's day, which means that most of my most insightful friends are somewhere, shoving flowers up their mama's asses, leaving me to figure this shit out on my own. I really hate this day. I've wanted to attend therapy for a while now. But I haven't been able to. But this might just be the motivation I need. Because I'm tired, y'all.