“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.

This is a variation of something I posted last week and then took off public display. I post it now cause it keeps showing up and I need to get it out of my head. Because I’m trying to free myself of anything that’s holding me back, down, or up. Because I’m trying to get the lesson so I can move on.

You visit certain blogs regularly, you expect certain things. A friend says he expects truth, love, openness, something positive, some silliness related to fam/friends here. *shrug* That – truth, love, openness – is part of my quandary.

I ask myself if I’m too zealous about love & truth? Too bold in the face of love? Baring too much of myself? Now, I don’t put it all out there on the blog but I put enough. Enough for folks to get a feel for who I am, what matters most to me. And if we ever cross paths in the “real” world, you’ll find I’m exactly the same as I am on my blog, with an extra helping of humor. (Sorry to disappoint those who were hoping I was different. LOL)

Over the last month or so, several people said they found me “brave”. Others (male) have said they find my willingness to just put my thoughts & feelings (especially my feelings) out there unnerving. Quoting one, “as a strong black man, someone that open & honest puts me off”. *SIGH* Now, I don’t know him from Adam, he doesn’t know me. He’s read my blog a few times & somehow he’s already sized me up & dismissed me as being “TOO”.

If I had a dime for every time someone found me “TOO” much of something (bold, smart, independent, honest, silly, strong, etc.) or “NOT ENOUGH” of something else (tall, pretty, slim, meek, etc.), I’d be chilling down by the waterside for real. Note: this kind of stuff is exactly why you need to know and define yourself FOR yourself – from the core and be unshakeable about it. If you’re not, comments like that will seep into your psyche and cause all kinds of damage. Anywho…

Am I brave? I don’t know. Never really thought of myself that way. I know that I’ve lived my life from a place of fear for long enough, that I’m intent on healing myself. I just want to be free, content, loved, at peace. To shake off all the “STUFF” that weighs me down – fear, doubt, generational curses, etc.; the crap that the world tries to pile at the feet of someone who looks like me, who’s been where I’ve been. To be free to sidestep as much drama as I can. To love my life, to live my life; to love my family & friends and serve my God. Is that so different from what other people want? Why does it make me “brave” but apparently is just who ‘they’ are?

Can I tell you something? I didn’t set out to be brave. I simply set out to be loved. To live from a place of truth. To carve out a little space in this world where I could simply be who I am as deeply & intentionally as I can while returning the favor to others. Does that make me brave? Maybe. But hell, LIVING requires some measure of bravery so maybe we’re all brave to some degree. Maybe I grew into this “bravery” when I wasn’t looking. Maybe it was by His design, each little event in my life simply adding to the cache.

I don’t feel brave. Hell some days I feel uncertain, unqualified, unprepared…for the very things I say I want. When it’s just me, myself & I? Me and that little girl inside who could use a hug, who some days is just tired of scrambling, who wants to know that it’s ok to simply be who she is, who thinks it shouldn’t be this hard, who wants to know what love really is, who wonders if she’s truly living the life God intended for her? Naw, I don’t feel brave then.

Maybe bravery, like strength, is just part of who I am, and it shows up when needed. Maybe I just need it a lot these days. Maybe I dishonor those gifts, denying them or pushing them away sometimes because people declare you as “brave” or “strong” and somehow they think that makes you invincible in some respects. Like your feelings don’t matter. Like you don’t need anything or anyone – a kind word, a hug…respect. They “assume” that no matter what, you’re going to be alright – like you can’t possible be down for even a minute.

They do silly shyt like sending you cryptic emails that say “this” when they truly want to say “that”. They call you “friend” then treat you the opposite. They gloss over situations where you’re sharing your fears, your dreams, your pains because that’s not how “they” see you. They do stupid shyt that you call them on and they say it’s because “you” are just so different from anyone they’ve ever known and they’re not used to someone like “you”. They say all the right words in public – I’ll call, let’s get together, etc. – but it’s all show. They downplay your feelings. They do these things and think nothing of it because they think someone as brave as you, as strong as you doesn’t “need” anyone to lean on, doesn’t “need” help, doesn’t get hurt, doesn’t “feel” as deeply as they do, doesn’t “hurt” as badly as they do. Like there’s some frigging contest. Like you have some magical, mystical powers that heal your wounds in under 2 seconds. They think these things becomes sometimes they’re selfish, sometimes they’re stupid, and sometimes…we encourage them because we play into it. Can I put you on notice? I stopped playing into the mess years ago.

I’ve learned to love my strength, what others see as my bravery – to make peace with it and know that it doesn’t make me invincible and that anyone who thinks it does or should, anyone who is uncomfortable that a strong, brave woman would need lifting up from time to time just ain’t for me. And I am okay with that. Just don’t try to make me the poster child for strength and bravery. I’m not.

I wasn’t trying to be brave. Just trying to free myself. To be at that place that says I like who I am, I love the person I’m growing into & while YOU don’t have to like, love or even tolerate me, please – respect me. That’s it. Being myself each & every day, in every interaction. Not quieting my spirit or my voice so someone else can be comfortable. Maybe that is brave. *shrug*

I wasn’t trying to be brave. Just trying to love & be loved. Knowing perfection isn’t my goal – but a life of grace, peace, faith, ease, is. Love. That’s it. Not the “you complete me” ideal of love but the kind that says, “I’m whole, healthy & complete as I am but you compliment me in ways that make the whole of me bigger, brighter, better.” Maybe being ready for love is a form of bravery. Surviving in the face of heartache without bitterness. Being willing to do it again, only deeper. Being willing to love deep enough to defy statistics. Reveling in seeing others sharing the very kind of relationship you want. Believing that love exists…and somewhere out there is a slice with my name on it. Maybe that is brave. *shrug*

So. Here we are. At the place where the very things I ask if I speak of too much, the very things I wonder if I crave too much become the very things I write about.

Again.

Just know that I’m not trying to be brave.

Live DELICIOUSLY!

J

:::: QUOTABLES ::::

“Life is an act of a faith. Struggle is optional.” ~ Iyanla Vanzant

“Strength, Courage & Wisdom. It was inside of me, all along.” ~ India.Arie

**LRIA = Love’s Reparations in Action. **
Why? Because for me, “Love’s Reparations” is bigger than poetry - it’s a movement.

Somebody cue Fabulous & NeYo “I’m a movement by myself…but I’m a force when we’re together. I’m good all by myself but you, you make me better.”

Yes, I did take down the original post for today. Why? Because. Today? It’s hard. To be in THAT place. To be reminded that while you ARE in THAT place, you are there ALONE. A few days ago, I mentioned that there were some things that I wasn’t going to talk about any more. Not that I don’t think my voice is valid, not that I don’t think I’m being heard or helpful but…sometimes, the world needs to just HEAR your silence, to just sit with it so they realize not only the validity of your words/views but of your feelings. And sometimes, silence speaks the loudest.

This morning, I made the mistake of letting myself go somewhere “mentally” that in it’s current state is not good for me emotionally or any other way. I’m irritated with myself right now because I keep turning that stuff over trying to find myself there. It shouldn’t be that hard. It just shouldn’t. So now, I’m nursing that old wound, the one I thought had scabbed over. It’s all good though. Or at least it will be.

Anyway, in lieu of what was originally posted, I’m doing a repost. Enjoy!

STRONG ENOUGH FOR A WOMAN - AS A WOMAN…BUT MADE FOR A MAN

Not feeling overly bloggish these days but…I need to rescue my blog from blog obscurity AND I told one of my girlfriends that I was going to finish at least one post that I’d started over the last couple of weeks & get it out there. Um…ok, so I’m going to do just that but just so you know, this ISN’T the entry I had intended to use. It is however, the one I NEED.

“Strong Enough for a woman, made for a man.” You remember that slogan, right? Secret deodorant?

I’ve been told that I’m a strong woman, a strong person. I don’t disagree with that assessment. Nor do I apologize for the strength. BUT…I’m also a woman who KNOWS she’s a woman, who likes her softer side, who knows when to let herself be vulnerable, when to call her strength into action. Who knows that it isn’t about being right – it’s about being appreciated, needed, respected, wanted…loved. Who knows that she doesn’t have to use her strength as a weapon AND right about now…I’d give anything to not have to be that strong woman – just for a little while.

To have someone hold my hand, tell me to “Shhhh….be still….rest yourself…”

To pick up the phone, hear you say a simple hello as I dissolve into tears while you say, “I’m on my way”.

To be able to just curl up on the sofa in a hug – warm, deep, inviting – a hug that says “You’re safe. I got you.”

To hear someone say, “You can let your guard down. I’ll keep the world at bay.”

To just BE in that space with someone who gets me – really gets me – both in terms of my words…and my silence. To just BE in that space with them. Letting the silence speak to us, for us, through us. Just being comfortable.

To have that one place where no masks are needed, walls are not allowed, fears are faced head on, judgment is tossed out the window, truth flows freely like oxygen, words mean what we say they mean. That place where you know – beyond a shadow of a doubt – that your safety (emotional, physical & otherwise) is first and foremost in that person’s mind. That giving you back your smile is all they want to do in that moment.

Maybe that’s really what I want. Not to forfeit, give up, or trade my strength. But to have a SAFE HAVEN. A place to go to rejuvenate. Rest. Replenish my spirit. Refresh my mind. A place where I can be vulnerable…and still be safe. A place where my worth is recognized – regardless of what I do…or don’t do. A place where I can simply be me – as silly as I want to be, as complicated as I am, kind, funny, tired…whatever combination of me exists at that moment…and it will be all good.

I’m blessed enough to have a few strong ports in the storm. (Pausing to say “Thank You” – you know who you are – it’s all love.) But I’m holding out for that one magical, mystical “Wal-Mart” of safe havens…where I can get everything I need, whenever I need it…24 hours a day, 7 days a week. The cost? The recognition that it’s okay to give into my weakness, my vulnerability some times. That it’s okay to let my guard down. That it’s okay to want or need someone…their strength, their energy, their honesty, their quiet spirit, their laughter, their warmth. To know not only that I want it, that I need it, but also that I truly deserve it, that it’s AUTHENTIC…and freely given.

Knowing that…admitting it…reflects a lot of growth. And it takes a lot of strength….courage…and wisdom. Right now, in THIS moment, I need you. I’m strong enough to admit that….are you strong enough to BE that? Cause right here, right now, in this moment, in this space - I can & do tell you this: I AM strong enough for a woman, strong enough AS a woman…but I’m MADE for a man.

ADDENDUM TO ORIGINAL POST: I don’t want to hear anybody’s statistics. Truth be told, statistics was never my thing…on any level. But what I can tell you & WILL tell you about me and statistics is this:

DEAR “ADAM”,
I AM READY TO HEAR THE RHETORIC & THE STATISTICS & LOVE YOU SO DEEPLY THAT THEY CAN’T EVEN IMAGINE HOW TO MEASURE IT.

LOVE ALWAYS,
“EVE”

That my lovelies? REAL TALK. Spoken with love, in love, for the sake of love. Always Love. ALWAYS.

Live DELICIOUSLY!
Love DEEPLY!
~ J~