Extra Baggage: and I don't Mean Fat!

Why must society label women who have children as “baggage” or “damaged goods”? Have we been tested in a laboratory somewhere in some remote corner of the globe and research shows the statistics are not in your favor if you are to start a relationship with us? How is our baggage so different than that of others? Maybe we are smarter, wiser, and plain realize the crap that we will and will not put up with and that makes us harder to attain and therefore to label is easier than to pursue. We endure so much as single mothers with our never-ending schedules and limited sleep and then we must add to that the struggle of having to overcome the stigma of “worthlessness” in the eyes of society and try to make a life as a single woman as well. Our beds are just as empty, just as needful- but a bit harder to crawl into. It doesn’t make us Queens of Ice or unreachable, just means we come to the table with a little more knowledge, a bit of integrity, and tad of skeptism that if your willing to chip at it, you could find exactly what you have been looking for.

Omission or Admission?

What is so hard about admitting truth? When we hide it, we hurt those around us. Maybe it is just a small omission and only for a short time, or maybe it is something you keep hidden out of fear and it is for a long time, and it is something that you keep from those in which you love. They find out the omission and are hurt by it, trying to figure out if it is something they have done, said, or just maybe it is them that have made you omit this. Keeping secrets is tricky thing; to some it isn’t really keeping secrets it is keeping personal personal. To others, it is personal. It is showing that the importance of everything may not be as much to one as it is the other, or maybe secrets are kept because it is only supposed t be a secret and you’re starting to finally realize it.

America the Blind?

As an American, I sit here bewildered as we approach the final hour’s candidates and searching for those who will represent the two parties, even if we define them as the two parties anymore. I say that because we have gotten lost in a jumble of greed, power, terror, and strife and have lost the vision in which we ever founded this country. Instead of worrying how a person will lead our country in and out of battle, how they will define our country in economic hardship or surplus; we instead question the propaganda of their faith and how their religion could affect their ability to lead. We are focusing on color, gender, and faith completely ignoring the words “All Men Are Created EQUAL”. We were founded on the notion of rising from the opposition and force of powerful families and powerful sects, yet we allow them to dowse our political platforms with unyielding nonsense and wishy-washy stances just to say “VOTE”. Are we going to be pressured to vote just because they say; it would good for our country for a woman to lead? What if she isn’t qualified, do we still allow her to run our futures because of our past? They say vote because it would be good for our country for an African-American to be in charge? Why? Because of our past, because of a mistake or is he the best for the job? We need to find a place for ourselves past the color, past the gender, and past the faith. We need to find faith in ourselves again and find where it was we started, when we believed in One Nation, Under God and we were not punished for saying it. We need to find ourselves and go back to where we can freely speak out about our parties and have knowledge, not just what was on the scroll at the bottom of CNN or Fox News. We need to put effort and pride back into our country before we bury Her in a pile of self-absorption of greed, lies, and heresy.

The Grinch and Cindy Lou Who

A Fairy tale cannot be told until it is complete, as so this story will not be played out just yet. However, as it where, this story is just beginning. A story of a long awaited fairy tale, twisted as it might be, of two people who may not have been right at the time but are right at this time. A Grinch with a heart of ice, being melted bit by bit by little Cindy Lou Who whom he never saw coming. A small meeting that turned into quite the love affair, turning to very lonesome kindred spirits into a inseparable being. Even though she is so scared of her life engulfing him and scaring him, and as scared as he is of loving her- they keep going. This is the ultimate story of time tested love, affection, and plain old-fashion fairy tales.

It Is Not Always What It Seems To Be.

You sit patiently waiting, waiting for that moment where you can breathe without pain. Without feeling like the weight of the world is sitting right there on your chest, you needing to lift it each and every time you exhale. You’re spinning in a whirlwind trying to catch yourself at every turn, only to find one more spin is in your future. You have built your life around being the “strong one”, so no one knows that you’re crumbling on the inside that you’re just a step away from gone. You know that you have made choices that you must live with in life, but how long must you suffer for them? How long do you need to sit and watch life go by because you chose to stand by even when someone else did not?

Sometimes, people make choices because they have to, not because they want to. They may not have a real option in the matter and whether they really want to or not, their lives are up-heaved and turned upside down because someone else has another plan, or needs them for awhile. Unfortunately, during that time, those who take them may not realize that even though they are happy and content with how life has turned out, the other may just be miserable and completely alone. Sometimes, you must look past the end of your ocean view, because the girl at the end of it may not be taking in the picturesque view- she may just be looking for a way out.

Why Give Up the Power?

Why do we give other people power to say what we can feel, what we can, and how we can say it? When did the fears and anxiety of what might happen or could happen start to take over the need to be whole, true, and peaceful with our inner self before making others that way? A rock cannot be a rock if it is crumbled can it? For if your in a million little pieces by the end, after the current of unyielding tides have washed over and have battered away at you for years and your rubble, there is no way you can stand strong for those your love for you can not longer stand for yourself. I have watched a long time friend of mine care for his/her family (names protected for the innocent here), and watched the progression over time. The constant pressure, beat downs are sewn in with love and bought basically. My friend has a wonderful life on the outside with a beautiful home, gorgeous family, and to listen them talk a very fruitful life. To dig however into that life is a crazy, topsy-turvy world full of heart-ache, despair and more horrific than any V.C Andrews novel ever created.

From Brick Wall to Rubble.

There was this girl, a time ago. She had visions of how her life should have gone, looking out windows from time to time dreaming of what would have been, could have been. Always keeping her head above water, this girl always knew that she had to be strong, hard; she had to be cold to be able to live. She couldn’t let anyone in. She was living a life punishing her for the mistakes that others had made along with her. She made them herself, but she did not make them alone. She was embittered, wounded though she made it though. Day in and day out, she made the beds, meals. She mended the “war” scars and kissed the boo-boos. She read “Where the wild Things are” at least a thousand times as they drifted off to sleep, keeping the ringer off because she never dared let anyone in her time. She let a few in, mistakenly thinking that it was ok. Friends, others- she should have known better. Now, here in the present-she has become a woman. Still making meals, beds are made not by her but by the growing ones that stand before her no longer needing as much from her but still needing. Battles are more present then kissing boo-boo’s as hormones rage and muscles are flexed. This now woman as become a bit warmer in her age, she has turned on her ringer, opening her world even though that thought still scares her still makes her wonder if anyone really wants to be apart of this. She has started taking down the wall that she so painstaking built, harden by years she picks at it daily realizing that she needs to. That she has waited so long to be able to do this that she owes to them to her to break it down. She never thought she would utter those words, the phrases, but she has. It felt good, and for once she actually smiled.