I’m a connoisseur of good conversation. Generally speaking, no topic is off limits though timing may be an issue. That’s not to say that you can walk up to me all brand new, barely knowing me and think I’m gonna let it all hang out. Not. But for those who know me, we can/do talk about it all. Well, except for one thing. It’s not a conversation that makes me uncomfortable or sad or whatever. It’s just that, when my family broaches the subject, “things” start happening.

The topic. Asking about or mentioning an ex. I don’t mean the kind of conversations about ‘remember the time ABC told this story about the old couple who died ‘parked up’ in the woods?” or ‘remember the time XYZ insisted he could play ball…and we found out the hard way that he really couldn’t?”. No, I’m talking about those conversations where they ask if I’d heard from or seen an ex. Or where they happened to have seen/heard from one of them. Or they start musing aloud about how “nice” so-and-so was, how much they liked him. (Those conversations normally end with me saying something like, “Then YOU date him.”) Yeah. THOSE conversations. What normally happens after those almost-conversations is I actually run into the person or they call.

I had one too many of them this week. BigSis#1 happened to ask about XYZ (BigSis#2 & her hubby asked about him last week). Who calls me out of the blue with reminiscing in his voice? *SIGH* Then we have to dabble in the rundown of “the good times” and all my “good qualities”. Dude, not to be rude but what’s the point? “WE” are NOT going to be “we” again. “WE” aren’t even going to be friends. That’s not who we are to each other. Now, don’t get it twisted – I don’t hold any ill-will but dang, over is over.

Then someone else tells me they heard from ABC. (Note: Um, ABC? I know that sometimes you pass through and read the page. Oh well.) He asked about me. Cool. But then…he swerved trying to travel back down memory lane even though there’s a “Road Closed” sign. Can I tell ya’ll it’s been at least 12 years since we dated? Yep. Do I think my stuff is all that? Yes. (Ha! Did you REALLY think I was gonna say NO? Puhlease!) But more importantly, I know that when you’re in a relationship (or married with kids for goodness sake!!) and things hit a snag or aren’t going as you’d like/hoped, it’s easy to think back to the relationship(s) you were in before you this one (or before you said “I Do”). And every time ABC has a conversation with some mutual friends, he goes to that same place. Always ending with not understanding why we broke up…or more specifically, why I broke up with him. Really? The few times we’ve come into contact, has ABC ever asked me for clarification? Nope. Would it have mattered then? Nope. Does it matter now? Nope. So, what’s the point? Nothing. Now, if he asks, I’ll tell him - I just don’t see the relevancy.

Conversations my fam has with ABC always end up with a discussion on their part about how maybe I’m “too picky”. Since there were only two people in that relationship (well, as far as everyone else knows), they can think what they like. Who am I to divest them of their opinions, no matter how far off-base they may be? My mom is famous for lamenting aloud, “Ain’t nobody ever tell me why they broke up.” I remind her that I didn’t break up with her – I broke up with him. That gets me an “Mmph” and a look that says she’s tempted to smack the impudence off my lips.

And so it continues today with me getting a call from 123. *Sigh* He’s going on and on about what he misses about me which makes me laugh because it sounds very much like the same list of reasons he recited when we broke up. So I invite him to very quickly cut to the chase cause I’m really not feeling this. He reminds me of one of our last conversations. The one where he got caught up in a lie so tight, it left him with all kinds of indentations. He reminds me of how calm I was as I simply stated that I was done – as were “we”- and that I wished him well. And some other stuff about how I knew that I wasn’t the one and had no interest in trying to force myself to be either. That I didn’t have any issues with her but rather him for growing a lie where only the truth should bloom. For some reason, he felt the need to let me know that I was right. That he was wrong for not understanding why I was upset with HIM and not her. And that he made himself miserable for a long time trying to prove me wrong. *SIGH* I have to laugh as I tell him that I truly was not checking for him like that.

My fam used to think I was bitter about one or two of my past relationships, especially since I never went into details as to why things ended. I’m not bitter – I never was – I was just on to what was next. If I were to run into any of these guys, we could have a conversation – no problem. We can and we have. If they’re passing through and want to grab a cup of coffee, cool. We can and we have. We’re not going to hang out and be fast friends (especially me and ABC cause as much as he tries to hide it, he’s still using that “let’s be friends” as a placeholder thinking he can work his way back in). Um, as Keyshia Coles would say “Let it Go!” Truthfully, I’m friends with a few of the guys that I dated so it’s very much an individual thing - not a group dismissal of exes.

The evening picked up quite nicely though. I had a wonderful conversation with…um… “POI” (“person of interest”). Lots of laughter, getting-to-know-you moments…and even a few rounds of “name-that-tune” (Told you I was the reigning champ!).

Conversation good enough to make me forget those “leftover conversations”…to liberate me from that visitation of exes.

I wrote this piece a while back. When I was trying to find some peace, some “logic” behind the “why” of a relationship that went awry. I’d like to say it was a situation where I was “absolved” of any responsibility in the “demise” of what probably never should have been in the first place. More to the point, the “demise” of what turned out to be exactly what it was meant to be - a learning experience. I would receive no absolution this time.

I was drawn to him for many reasons - he’s intellect, sense of humor, common interests, etc. Did I mention that he’s attractive? But I think what drew me the most, the phemerone that pulled me closest to him? BROKENNESS. In spite of everything we see as his exterior, I sensed some wounds. And that’s all I needed. I donned my rescue outfit and headed into deep water. Not realizing that it was my own reflection that I saw - in the water…and in him.

Make no mistake about it - I realized in the moment that I had some “chips” (though I probably wouldn’t have labeled it ‘brokenness’…even though that’s what it was). I thought since they were “chips”, we could smooth those over and love our way through them…especially while “we” were working to repair “his” breaks. Repeat after me: “Mirror Mirror on the wall, who’s the most broken one of all?” Can you imagine how I felt when the “mirror” answered “YOU”? Ha!

No one is responsible for your healing other than you. People can be instruments IN that healing but ultimately, it’s on you. In the end, the battle to heal yourself, to love and be loved, to be whole, healthy & happy is YOURS. (Check the job description if you don’t believe me.)

If you’re not ready, willing and able to step into the battle, don’t recruit others.

Live DELICIOUSLY!
~ J ~

“We imagine we would be all right if a big crisis arose; but the big crisis will only reveal the stuff we are made of, it won’t put anything in us.” ~ Oswald Chambers

Did I ever tell you that I was a drama queen? Well, I was. Or should I say, I’m a recovering drama queen. (Er’y now and then I have a relapse.) Yep, I was. EVERYTHING was a crisis…drama amped up to 360°, multiplied by itself and then squared…TWICE.

Everything that happened became a drama-laced story to be told again…and again. Last year, I found myself about to don the costume of Drama Queen again…where you were concerned. And trust me, there WAS drama. But my spirit having evolved tremendously over the years had that bit of drama on M-U-T-E. Sure, it was painful, it was hard to deal with but no amount of telling or retelling would ease any of that and my spirit knew my heart needed something more quiet in order to heal. You were not my crisis. While I think you are a wonderful human being (yep, even through the bullshyt…I still see Y-O-U, flaws & all, every single possibility for who you truly are…the person you’re running from – cause Baby, while you tell yourself it’s me…it’s not – it’s YOU), you are not my crisis. I realize that now. And so…

To you…I apologize. Sincerely. They say love dies under the burden of unmet expectations. Does that make me a murderer? An assassin? I pray not. Maybe I (we) simply wounded love, not actually killed it.

To you I say…forgive me for trying to make you my crisis. When in fact, as painful as it was…you were simply my mirror, reflecting back to me the brokenness of my own spirit, the chipped places in my heart. I know now that you were simply an instrument of my healing…not my healer. That job description is mine and mine alone.

I once had a conversation with someone who asked if I ever regretted whatever relationship existed between you and I. I said no – and meant it (he on the other hand said he thought I should…and I’m sure he meant it.). I don’t. Why?

Because even in light of all the painful residue, the intense unraveling of possibilities…the beauty of us still remains.

I hesitate to declare myself “healed”. I do declare myself ‘better’. And that is all we can truly ask as we move deeper into this journey – that we end up better. Even when things end.

I think back over this year and see where “crisis” has definitely brought more to me than it’s taken from me. It affirms the fact that my “crisis” wasn’t. It also affirms the fact that a “crisis”, much like a crutch, isn’t meant to be long term.

What a beautiful ode to the Black women. I’ve heard this brother speak on a couple of occasions; I had a chance to hear him tell the story of how this very piece was born (He tells it also in the version below that was done at the Jena 6 Rally).

Is a Black Woman’s smile really that rare? Is it really that difficult to get a sincere smile from a sister? (I have my own thoughts on that very subject but…for the moment, I’ll keep them to myself.)

Interesting…especially on the eve of my participation in “Conversations”. (Um, I think I have the title of this event wrong. *Sigh*)

Enjoy…..

Link 1 - recorded performance with slide show “A Black Woman’s Smile - with slide show”

Link 2: live performance at Jena 6 rally
“A Black Woman’s Smile - live performance, Jena 6 Rally

Sister to sister? I hope you find reason this day and every day to smile, to genuinely smile full force. To let the light of your spirit shine in spite of…anything…and everything.

YOU…are beautiful.

Know this.

Own this.

Revel in it.

Yours truly has been on “Favorite Aunt” duty this week…

I was at BigBro #4’s house for a few days. I was downstairs yesterday morning getting dressed when my nephew K (the 4-yr old) comes a-knocking at the bathroom door to tell me that his sister M (she’s 2) keeps bothering him, she supposedly messed up his “picture”. I ask K if he’s tattling. He says “No, I’m just talking to you.”

He proceeds to tell me that M won’t leave him alone so he told her to leave the room. (Of course she didn’t; Ms. M has a mind of her own.) We talk about his picture and I assure him that she didn’t mean to mess it up – she probably was trying to copy him, she loves her big brother, she just wants to play, yada yada yada. K is like, “Um, no she meant to do it and she keeps following me.” By this time, M is outside the bathroom door with her big brother and he is NOT happy.

I’m really trying not to laugh because he sounds like a little ol’ man for real. So he’s telling his sister to stop following him, to leave him alone and says something to her about not seeing Santa Claus. Hmmm, I figure I can turn the tables on him using Santa right?

So I say to him, “K, you know if you’re mean to your sister Santa probably won’t bring you any toys for Christmas. So, what do you want – toys or to make your sister NOT play with you?”

That kid didn’t skip a beat. He said, “I have enough toys.”

Priceless.

Halloween. It sure has changed huh?

BigBro#4 left the house with “Li’l Dead Riding Hood”, a witch, a skeleton and a pink poodle. Sis-in-law is upstairs stirring up the pots so Aunt Jackie is designated the “candy lady”.

It’s 6:30pm and so far I’d seen a princess, the cutest little bumblebee (accompanied by her mother who was dressed…as…a…french maid. *SIGH*), a pirate, Dora, a rabbit, a spider, Elmo, a skeleton, and a few other assorted characters.

I hear some kids coming up the walk but nobody says anything so I’m standing there looking at them. I open the door and they yell, “Trick-or-Treat!”. Now that’s more like it! So, I’m doling out candy and checking out costumes.

One of the girls, I’m guessing she was about 12 had on a pseudo-military costume…military cap, jacket with the epaulets, skirt…

I ask her who she was….

Are you ready?

Are you sure?

This chick looked me dead in the face, smiled all super lip-glossy and oh so proud of herself and said, “I’m a Major Flirt.”

I.HAVE.NO.MO.WORDS.

I closed the door, unplugged the pumpkins, and turned off the light.

Sweet Jesus part the sky!

Next up for “Favorite Aunt”?

SATs…Round 1

Followed by an opportunity to participate in “Conversations & Couples”. *Sigh* Yep, yours truly has an opp to moderate/facilitate/participate in conversations re: L-O-V-E. It should prove to be veddy veddy in-ta-res-ting.