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Posts Tagged ‘Christian’

My Big Fat Life – Orlando Shooting & Church Activists

In Uncategorized on June 12, 2017 at 10:31 pm

A year ago 49 people were gunned down in a nightclub in Orlando. They were targeted because they were gay.

I don’t talk much about the LGBT community since I left it behind, but when I see headlines that scream of violence against those who are victims of hate crimes based on their sexuality my heart is reminded of the struggle of what it means to be gay in America. While it is true that gay people have it considerably better than in most countries, it still isn’t a very good threshold to measure progression when it comes to the acceptance of others based on who they choose to love.

I came across a Facebook page recently of a woman who claims to be an activist for God. Her name is The Activist Mommy. I checked out her page after someone posted a Change.org link regarding a plight to get her page removed from Facebook. I highly doubt it will do much because people still have a right to be an asshole in the U.S., and freedom of speech is a vital thread of what makes us so unique as a country. People have a right to their opinion, no matter how much a douche it makes them look. The perk is we get to see who people really are when it comes to such political and religious views, so we get to know who to avoid.

I read her page looking for some semblance of compassion or love, and it wasn’t a huge surprise I didn’t find any. I don’t think it comes to the surprise of any in the community that the church has long bred an attitude that tolerance is somehow acceptance. I don’t even like that word “tolerance” because it somehow equates patronizing in my mind. People who strongly believe in the church (I say church for a reason), feel it is their duty to show just how much they disagree with conceived sin, so they post memes on Facebook, make status updates, hit the like button on every article that validates their belief, and comments on news feeds. They shout a hearty “AMEN” each time the man behind the pulpit proclaims they are making a stand on sin, as though the louder they agree it equals wearing a badge of honor to measure their integrity. But… it’s not.

Even if you believe that being gay is a vile sin that you act upon, the bible is still very clear about how we are to love. In fact, the act of love is spoken more than any scriptures you might find to address that being gay is a sin, and yet it is the single most act that most people fail to do well. Whether in relationships, to strangers, our neighbors, and friendships. Heck, I will admit I often suck at being nice to people when I feel I am right about something and they are in the wrong. When we feel we are right about something, it trumps our ability to love actively. We get so fixed on being right, and proving it, that we forget there is another person involved in our actions; the person on the receiving end of our stand or response.

I don’t doubt that some of these people believe they are doing God’s work, and believe that they are making a change in the world. On the other hand I know they are not doing anything other than creating more anger, hurt, and validation that God is nothing more than an angry man who is more interested in hurting us creatures on a spinning blue marble, than loving us. Yet, isn’t love the basic foundation of His message? Let’s just believe for a moment that all people believe in God, but who would want to serve such an angry and quick to condemn deity unless we had the fear of eternal damnation looming over us? No one. That is why the message of love is the most important message of all. The simple act of love without condition is the hardest to do for us. Perhaps that is why it has been written about so often. The message has to be driven to us. Paul wrote letters to the church about it, and depending how you feel about the truth of the cross, God sent His son to show us. Just being kind to others can be a challenge, let alone loving others we feel are in the wrong. I also find that the actions people get most fired up are the ones they either struggle against themselves, or can’t ever imagine acting upon. The first lending to the belief that if they fight against it enough it somehow will create almost a hatred for it and therefore reduce the temptation, and the second because people always argue what they don’t understand.

Love isn’t “tolerating” or accepting the acts of another as correct or in alignment of our own personal convictions. It’s loving that person regardless of what we personally believe. Our morals are separate from the act of love. We can love someone and have no relationship with them outside of our feeling for them. In fact, at times that is the best for everyone involved. I love my sister, but I can’t have a relationship with her because I don’t agree with her choices. Her choices affect me when she chooses to use drugs. I don’t want that around me, or my family. But I do love her. I want the best for her, yet I know that a relationship with her is not the best for me. She does really dumb things when she uses, and has removed my ability to trust her judgement. Does that mean I am going to yell and scream some condemnation at her every time I see her? No. Does my lack of doing so somehow translate that I am accepting or tolerant of her choices? Nope. It means I love her, but I choose not to allow her choices to influence my daily life anymore.

I have spent a lot of time talking to people during my time in the community. I have asked questions, listened to stories, and hurt as I listened to the damage the church has done. A majority of people in the LGBT community have already heard the message. There is nothing new you can scream from a picket line or post on Facebook that is something new to them. Most of them were raised in the church and already know the message. Many of them are still Christians and long for a relationship in a church; for human connection. They have struggled in their hearts knowing the message of the church, and their natural attractions. They have been at war with themselves so many times, there is no new scar you can leave that will laid upon three more. What they haven’t heard enough of, is love.

Chances are if you move about in society, you have already come in contact with a gay person. The lady behind the register, the Dr. treating you at the hospital, the vet who cares for your pet, the stranger you bumped into at the store, the man behind the ticket booth at the movies who sold you your ticket to the movie you have been waiting to see for months…. you get the idea. Chances are you have already come into contact with someone who is gay. Did you need to know their sexual orientation to be kind to them? Of course not. The act of being kind requires no back story. It requires nothing more than consideration without prejudice.

Sometime ago I had an argument with my boyfriend. I can’t even recall what it was about because so much time has passed that whatever it was obviously wasn’t that life altering. It’s my nature to walk away when I get upset.I need to allow the logic to rise above the emotion so I can think clearly, and the only way I can usually get there is to walk away to a quiet space and just ride it out. It’s a good thing because I can be quick to say really shitty things when I get upset. I’ve worked hard to be more careful with my words, even though I don’t always succeed. The other reason is because I grew up not being allowed to show emotion, so I instantly just walk away because I am used to having my thoughts and feelings discarded. What I can tell you I recall about that day is when I stood up to walk away and he reached for me. He put his arm out, touched me and gave me a hug. I couldn’t even tell you what I was wearing that day, but I can tell you how I felt in that moment. One simple action that isn’t so simple when we are hurt gave me a sense of love, security and acceptance regardless if he was disagreeing with me or not.  He wasn’t showing me a message of tolerance, or acceptance, but love.

Just love.

 

The 49 people who died because someone didn’t know how to love:

Edward Sotomayor Jr., 34

Stanley Almodovar III, 23

Luis Omar Ocasio-Capo, 20

Juan Ramon Guerroro, 22

Eric Ivan Ortiz-Rivera, 36

Peter O. Gonzalez-Cruz, 22

Luis S. Vielma, 22

Kimberly Morris, 37

Eddie Jamoldroy Justice, 30

Darryl Roman Burt II, 29

Deonka Deidra Drayton, 32

Alejandro Barrios Martinez, 21

Anthony Luis Laureano Disla, 25

Jean Carlos Mendez Perez, 35

Franky Jimmy Dejesus Velazquez, 50

Amanda Alvear, 25

Martin Benitez Torres, 33

Luis Daniel Wilson-Leon, 37

Mercedez Marisol Flores, 26

Xavier Emmanuel Serrano Rosado, 35

Gilberto Ramon Silva Menendez, 25

Simon Adrian Carrillo Fernandez, 31

Oscar A Aracena-Montero, 26

Enrique L. Rios Jr., 25

Miguel Angel Honorato, 30

Javier Jorge-Reyes, 40

Joel Rayon Paniagua, 32

Jason Benjamin Josaphat, 19

Cory James Connell, 21

Juan P. Rivera Velazquez, 37

Luis Daniel Conde, 39

Shane Evan Tomlinson, 33

Juan Chevez-Martinez, 25

Jerald Arthur Wright, 31

Leroy Valentin Fernandez, 25

Tevin Eugene Crosby, 25

Jonathan Antonio Camuy Vega, 24

Jean C. Nives Rodriguez, 27

Rodolfo Ayala-Ayala, 33

Brenda Lee Marquez McCool, 49

Yilmary Rodriguez Sulivan, 24

Christopher Andrew Leinonen, 32

Angel L. Candelario-Padro, 28

Frank Hernandez, 27

Paul Terrell Henry, 41

Antonio Davon Brown, 29

Christopher Joseph Sanfeliz, 24

Akyra Monet Murray, 18

Geraldo A. Ortiz-Jimenez, 25

 

My Big Fat Life – I’m Not Gay

In Uncategorized on October 16, 2014 at 10:18 pm

This is possibly one of the most difficult blogs I have had to write.

I know this will be pretty unpopular, and I am prepared for the backlash of previous readers, but it’s something I simply need to talk about.

When I started this blog I was hurting.. really hurting.. from the break up of the relationship with my *now* ex Registered Domestic Partner. I was in a place where grief seemed pretty all consuming, and I had no doubt I was truly devastated that things didn’t work out. I also didn’t question my sexuality, because as far back as I can remember, I was attracted sexually to women. Things with men didn’t seem to *work* in a lot of ways, and things just seemed so much more natural with women.

When I was in my relationship with the ex, there was one guy I had met that I was attracted to, and it surprised me. I wasn’t sure what to do with the attraction I felt, and I put it away. The word ‘bisexual’ in the LGBT community is one that is often seen with a lot of discrimination, and prejudice. I didn’t think I was bisexual (and I don’t think I am now), but I also didn’t know what to think.

I continued to date women after the ending of that relationship. Though I wrote about those relationships from time to time, I also kept a lot of it to myself. I never really liked the idea of writing about my dating life to begin with. One, I didn’t want to make the person uncomfortable, and two.. well, I didn’t want to write about it and then when it ended have it be another failed relationship that became the focus of my writing.

When Gabriel had his surgery last year, and I was in a relationship at that time. I won’t go into details about what happened, though I know a lot of it I under a tremendous amount of stress. I was also at a cross roads in my personal life.

When you are faced with the reality of life in such a raw way, you start to ask yourself questions. You start to wonder if you are really on the right track in your own life. Maybe career, personal life, romantic relationships, friendships.. so many areas. I thought I had known who I was, what I wanted, where I wanted to be. I had plans for life, and I was trying to live out my goals the best I could.

I am not so sure anymore.

The past 6 months, I have been on some dates. All those dates were with men.

Now, please hang with me. I know some of you are automatically labeling me as a bisexual. I can almost hear my ex screaming “I knew it!” in the background (that is in no way to suggest she is actually doing so), but let me make this clear.. I do not label myself as a bisexual. In all honesty, labeling me is the least important thing about this entry.

Over this past year a lot of things have changed in my life, and one of those changes has been what I feel I desire in a relationship. I can’t explain to you exactly where and when my heart changed, but I can tell you that today.. here behind the screen of the computer.. is a woman who realized that I am not the certified, card carrying, absolute lesbian I believed I was born to be. I am a woman who doesn’t want to label herself in anyway, other than to say that I fully believe that dating women is not where I want to be anymore. It’s not where I believe I am to be anymore.

I am not sure how to even begin to talk about why I believe the changes came about without sparking some serious debate about faith, but yes.. I am a Christian. I have never hid the fact that I believe in God, and I can’t explain how these drastic changes in my very being have taken place because it’s such a personal experience. I can only tell you my experience is that I am no longer attracted to women either sexually or romantically.

So there you have it.

I’m not gay.

My Big Fat Lesbian Divorce – Gabriels Heart

In Uncategorized on July 21, 2013 at 8:32 pm

The blog posted before I was finished writing. Apologies for the resend, but this the complete entry. It was a premature enter button push.

My Big Fat Lesbian Divorce (and other tales of a former lesbian)

It’s really freaking hard to think that it has been almost a month.

So, here is the run down on where things are.

August of 2000 I gave birth to a wonderful boy. In fact, two of them. I had twins. Only, mid way through my pregnancy (at 20 weeks) I was told I was going to have twins, yet one wasn’t alive. They were in fact, conjoined. When I tell people, they want to know how the boys were conjoined, and usually think of what is full conjoined twins or most commonly known as Siamese Twins. The boys were conjoined, but by one long umbilical cord. The cord made a stop off in the placenta, but kept flowing to the other baby. It is called T.R.A.P Syndrome. Gabriels heart worked for both babies.

When I was told, I was devastated. I grieved the loss of one child, though I…

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My Big Fat Lesbian Divorce – Gabriels Heart

In Uncategorized on July 21, 2013 at 6:35 pm

It’s really freaking hard to think that it has been almost a month.

So, here is the run down on where things are.

August of 2000 I gave birth to a wonderful boy. In fact, two of them. I had twins. Only, mid way through my pregnancy (at 20 weeks) I was told I was going to have twins, yet one wasn’t alive. They were in fact, conjoined. When I tell people, they want to know how the boys were conjoined, and usually think of what is full conjoined twins or most commonly known as Siamese Twins. The boys were conjoined, but by one long umbilical cord. The cord made a stop off in the placenta, but kept flowing to the other baby. It is called T.R.A.P Syndrome. Gabriels heart worked for both babies.

When I was told, I was devastated. I grieved the loss of one child, though I had to carry to term, and every day I worried about the health of the other. I was told there was a chance he wouldn’t survive the pregnancy or delivery or birth. The amount of stress was immense. I was grieving the loss, and also trying to prepare the birth of the other without knowing if he would survive. I literally didn’t just reserve one plot for burial, I had to hold two. Yes, it was that awful.

I spent a lot of time (as you can imagine) seeing a specialist, and having ultra sounds done. Every week, and as the time got closer every few days, it was really hard to lay there in the ultrasound room. I wanted to hold that baby so bad, yet I was so afraid to hope. It is a safe thing to say that I walked around in pretty much a depressed state most of the time. I isolated myself and had just enough energy to keep my shit together and try to keep on keeping on for the sake of everyone else. Though I would sit in the bathroom, lock the door, and just cry.

When Gabriel was born, he was transported to the NICU at Doernbechers. I was told that his heart was a mess, and they needed to help him. I was stuck at the hospital where I birthed him, because the medication used during the birth still hadn’t worn off. So off my new baby went, while I watched him being taken via hospital in that big tube. I was just beside myself with worry. He was so beautiful, and I couldn’t even be there to comfort him.

As they were taking Gabriel to the NICU at Doernbechers, the funeral home had already arrived to take Isaac. I had just given birth to two boys, yet I was there in my room, alone. My arms were empty. My heart, full.

Gabriel stayed in the NICU only 10 days. A far cry from the months they tried to prepare me for. I was told that his heart rate was normal, his oxygen level was normal, that everything about him was good and we could go home. I stayed awake for weeks at night, ready to pounce on every whimper. I was terrified to fall asleep. I was so scared something would happen to him, and I wouldn’t be able to help him if I was sleeping. But eventually I settled down and accepted that Gabriel was good. I even took him back for a follow-up echo cardiogram in 2005 *just to be sure* because no matter what, something in the back of my mind always worried. Again, I was told everything was fine. In fact, I remember that Dr telling me specifically that I would never have to have him tested again because his heart was absolutely fine. When the Pediatrician heard a murmur in 2007, and he was looked at once again, I was told again.. he was just fine. The studies were normal (I don’t like the word “normal” btw. I like to use “typically developed”, but for the sake of this and tell you the study results, normal it is).

Gabriel has had some struggles. He is hyper mobile, which means he can turn his leg almost completely backwards. It’s a fascinating, yet concerning trick. He has been plagued by tiring easier than the other children, though his drive to engage is healthy. He finds himself discouraged that he hasn’t been able to finish a “whole lap” at school like the other kids in his class. He’s short and if you recall from an earlier blog, was diagnosed as IGF1 deficient. I attributed some of these things to his poor muscle development and IGF1 levels, but I decided to still have the genetics specialist take a look and see what she thought might be going on.

When we went, she didn’t think he had Ehlers Danlos syndrome, but wanted to do an echo cardiogram to rule it out. So, we scheduled for it to be done on a day we had a lot of other appointments.

I am so thankful she did.

Because the same Dr who told me in 2005 that Gabriels heart was normal, told me in the hall, that Gabriels heart is in fact, not okay. I was just devastated. I still am. We were quickly shuffled to another floor to do an EKG and to meet the Professor of Pediatrics. He explained to me that Gabriel has Anomalous Left Heart Coronary. Meaning, a coronary artery is in the wrong place and it’s trapped between the heart and heart muscle. It’s not something people are even aware they have, usually until it’s too late.

I find myself once again in that place that I am so worried about Gabriel. I am so angry at Doernbecers for not finding this sooner, and telling me that I never needed to bring Gabriel back for an echo cardiogram, back in 2005. Yet I am so thankful the genetics specialist ordered a test, and the radiology technician found it. Mind  you it wasn’t the Dr who first did the test himself and missed it that found it, it was the technician who found it.

Frustration aside, I am trying to just cope with this moment to moment. Because I find myself in a familiar place with my Gabriel once more. I am worried about his health, I am worried about the surgery… no, I am terrified about the surgery. As the date draws closer to his surgery (open heart), I find myself wishing the days would go slower and I can have every moment possible to hold Gabriel.

Everyone keeps telling me not to worry, that medicine has progressed so much. Get real, I am his Mom. Of course I am worried. I have been this place before with Gabriel and it’s not an easy place to be. It’s scary as fuck, pardon my language. I cry, a lot. All I can think about is to get Gabriel through this complete and perfectly perfect and that kid can run a lap at school and kick some ass doing it. But yes, I am going to worry.

Anxiety anyone?

When I stood in that hall (Because as soon as I realized something wasn’t good, I asked him to speak to me in the hall. The Dr was actually going to drop this news in front of Gabriel and his brothers) I felt like I was being told all over again, that I was in limbo. The worry, the tears, the pleading with God, that this was just some awful dream. Only this time, I held Gabriel and cried. I listened as he told me not to worry, but that if anything did happen he wants to be buried with his twin (that was so hard to hear).

I am trying really hard to keep focused on this surgery, and in between my random bursts of tears, I am trying to focus on his upcoming birthday (which is a few weeks after his surgery). We will make it through this, and we will celebrate. We will have a kick ass 13th birthday party, and Gabriel will be better than he is now.

I do have to say that I have been sorely disappointed in that the people I thought would step up and be a support, haven’t been. I cleaned a lot of people off of my Facebook page and regretfully have closed the door of some friendships for now. I really need as much positive support (positive not meaning tell me a bunch of crap how I shouldn’t worry), but I mean by willing to listen and validate. When I was pregnant with the twins, I actually had a woman tell me “Well, when I miscarried a baby, I wasn’t left with anything so you should be happy”.. Yeah, right? .. wtf?  Even now, I have told people that if they look it up, I do not .. NOT.. want to hear their Wikipedia run down. I am listening to the doctors only right now. They are the ones with the information I need. Yet, I had a neighbor tell me how she looked it up and then proceeded to tell me things I asked not to hear. I cut her off, both conversationally and in contact. I can tell the difference between the people who are wanting to help and maybe say something that could have sounded better, and the ones who really should just think about what they are going to say, yet say it anyways.

Thank you to those who have stood up, for your love, support, and most of all prayers. If you have been reading this blog since I first started it, you have been with me through quite a bit in the past few years. I want you to know, that just knowing someone out there is reading this, has always been a great comfort to me. I may not see where the words fall, but I have always felt as though they fell in soft places.

That all being said, I need to rush off and get some things done. One being I should probably think about what to do for dinner. Apparently money doesn’t grow on trees, and neither does a fully cooked dinner for a family of five.

My big Fat Lesbian Life – This Is What It Is About

In Uncategorized on March 12, 2013 at 2:43 pm

Looking back at some of the things I have written, I am almost amazed at just how much shit I put myself through. A lot of it could have been avoided or ended way sooner if I had just not engaged myself. Yet at the same time, it has chronicled a journey I have been on. Healing from grief, realizations about myself as a woman and life. If you’ve ever played video games, or watched someone, think of it as standing in a room. You need to find a clue or whatever, to move to the next level. You have opened ever single door and window until  you click on the bookshelf and suddenly a hidden door reveals itself. On the other side all of these really cool things are just there. You can’t imagine how you even managed to make it this far in the game without knowing about the things you are about to pick up and experience. Given it is a video game example, but it’s exactly like that.

That’s worth waiting for.

My Big Fat Lesbian Life – Warm Blankets & Pizza

In Uncategorized on February 24, 2013 at 5:51 pm

My life is so nice right now. It’s like a big warm blanket on a cold morning. I don’t want to emerge from it, even to pee. Well, maybe to pee. But I’d run really fast to the bathroom, so I could quickly jump under the warmth of my big ol’ blanket.

My son had another biopsy to remove a growth under his tongue, of all places. I didn’t want to say anything about it, until we heard the results this time. The up and downs. the stress and the worry, is sometimes more than I feel I can handle. I am happy I have God to help me through it all. My relationship with Him is a lot like that big warm blanket. Emerging to deal with my day to day needs, can be a cold reality at times, but I know I have the warmth of Him when I really don’t feel like I can carry the worry I have over any of my children. Which, I do a lot of. The biopsy came back negative, and it turns out it was another cyst. I am so happy for that kid. I am so happy for my heart. I am just so happy, that to add a cake to the whole mix he is coming home the first week of March, for a visit. This will be the first time I have seen him since his diagnosis, and 5 surgeries later. He is sending me his schedule, so I know it is real this time. The Marines aren’t keeping him for an appointment, he has specific leave off and there is nothing they can do about it. My son is actually going to be here for a visit. I am so happy.

So the summary for my recent week is: My son had his second clean pathology report, my son is coming home in just a bit, and I have an amazing girlfriend.

There shall be cake, there shall be joy and there shall definitely be pizza.

 

My Big Fat Lesbian Life – Come here, Go Away, Go Away.

In dating, Divorce, family, gay, Lesbian, lgbt, Love, single, Uncategorized, women on January 27, 2013 at 5:20 pm

In the spirit of my new change, I have been backing up my way of thinking with action.

This week, I blocked the phone calls and text messages of someone who would literally stress me out everytime she sent me a text. I won’t go into all the reasons why she stresses me out, only to say that she seems to be in a place I don’t want to be. The negative energy, the denial.. In the past, I would have been accepting. Not anymore.

I started going to Al-Anon. Al-Anon is for the family and freinds of alochoholics. While I have dealt with a lot of the things that I expereinced at the hands of my Mothers addiction, I still have that caretaking mentality. It is what has kept me in bad relationships, making excuses for the others behavior. In the process none of my boudaries were respected. Actually, I am not sure I even had any. But I have them now, and I need to repect them. I need to hold them close and true. If someone chooses not to respect those boundaries, at least I will.

I deleted someone I had an involvement with at one time, from my Facebook page, It was Bea.. the one I wrote about, who I was totally into in High School. I have no idea why, but seeing her page and topics seemed to upset me in some weird way. So, after some thought, I decided to let whatever it was, be what it is.

I feel good about these changes. Of course I never want to hurt anyone. I find that a difficult thing to face. I also know I am tired of hurting myself, while choosing to protect the feelings of others. It’s time to take those steps and finally let my actions show that I care about myself and that I respect the boundaries I have set out for myself.

It feels good to finally liberate myself, from myself.

My Big Fat Lesbian Life – Wide Awake

In Blog, blogging, Break-up, C.S. Lewis, christian, communication, connection, dating, equality, gay, God, healing, Lesbian Relationships, LGBTQ, Life, Love, Oregon, Portland, relationships, Relationships, respect, sex, single, Uncategorized, women, Writing on January 15, 2013 at 12:14 am

I will open this with a hard truth.

Recently a friend of mine, Lisa Mae, asked me a very honest question during a conversation, as she listened to my latest mess of a dating situation where I had to break off yet another disaster. She asked me “Aren’t you tired of telling the same story?”

Yes. Very much so actually.

In my recent awakening that I have an incredible tolerance for bullshit (see previous blog titled “Bullshit”) I have been far less tolerant of the bullshit, much quicker. While it is awesome, it also really makes dating a challenge. Because people are just full of all sorts of crap that they haven’t dealt with. Her question reveled something to me quite honestly that I need to deal with. I want to write a new story.I had to think about what that means to me.

What it means to me is taking a new step. My first step.. I have decided to change my complete outlook on how dating will be.  I want to change my story in a lot of ways, and it starts with me. While I have a new lower tolerance for bullshit, it makes no sense to keep putting myself into situations where I give space to people I find in a matter of time, I have to walk away from. It’s empowering to walk away, but it also gets very lonely.

So how will dating look? I want to spend time getting to know someone. I want to bring back the lost art of conversation. The kind of conversations that don’t have sentences like “Hey, want to move in?”, “Let’s buy a puppy together.” and the ever so popular “Who’s paying for the U-Haul?” (add side conversations regarding bubble wrap and trailer hitches).

Since my proclaimed change, I have been asked a lot of about what it is I am looking for in another person. I think I have attacked this question in another blog, but I also think my thoughts may have changed (I hope at least matured) since. There are some things that of course, always evolve. These are the things though, that I have found over the past two years, that have come to mean the most to me as a woman.

1.) I need someone who is whole. By this I don’t mean someone who has never lived. I mean someone who has closure in their life. No open doors to the past that keep shades of light flooding into their space. No hauntings of ex partners they haven’t made closure on. I NEED to know that there is space for me in their life. I don’t want to share that space trying to compete with the memory, or emotions of someone else. I am an amazing woman. I deserve nothing less this time.

2.) I need someone who can deal with their own shit (pardon the language).  I need someone who has the ability to handle their own affairs, and does it well. I want to be there to support them in the way a partner should. I don’t want to be a treated as nothing more than a personal assistant.

3.) I need someone who has room for me. I want to be the only woman who is in their life. I want a life partner, not someone to just fill my time, but to share life with. I am not talking about every single moment of every single day. I need them to have outside interests and something separate from me, but I don’t want to worry if they are the type to not keep boundaries with others, for me.. us. I want someone I can build security with, and build trust. That is something that a lot of people don’t get either. I am not paranoid that everyone is a cheater or a manipulator, but trust is built. It is not just given. The floor to build trust on, is security. Make a woman feel secure, and she will trust you. It’s a two way street though.

4.) I want to be able to openly communicate and feel heard. I want to be able to talk to my partner when something isn’t working, and not be met with resentment. I want to give that to my partner as well. Respectfully talk, respectfully listen, respectfully react. I want someone who is able to take personal responsibility and work through something with a resolution, instead of trying to make me feel my response is just wrong and avoid having to take personal responsibility for anything. Ever have someone tell you “Well, it’s your fault. You are just insecure, get over it.” ? Well guess what? Sometimes, we do stupid things to make our partners feel insecure. If we are unable to take personal responsibility, we are not ready to take on the responsibility of being the lover of our partners heart.

5.) I want passion. I know romantic love comes and goes, I have always know that. Though passion is something I want to always work on. Not just the sexual, but conversationally. Mentally. I want someone who can mentally stimulate me. Teach me something I don’t know. Share new things with me. Music, books, literature, spiritual… Something that makes me feel alive. I have to admit, there is something about a mind that drives me wild. Share music with me, and I swoon. Music that is strong, alive with meaning and depth. Someone who can connect to those things, *sigh*.. yeah. Explore me with your mind, before  your hands.

6.) A sense of spirituality. It doesn’t have to be the same as mine, but a mutual respect of my faith, as I respect theirs. There is something to be drawn from each other when you share faith.

7.) Do not try to rescue me. I do not need rescued. I do not need a Prince riding in on a horse. Horses freak me out anyways. Just someone who can stroll in and share a stellar conversation. I want to walk next to someone and be a team. Someone I can depend on, and someone who can depend on me.

8.) I want to meet someone who wants to get to know me, just as much as I want to get to know them. Someone who will ask me questions about the person I am, and show interest in getting to know who I am. I always ask questions, and start conversation. I would love it if someone took the time to show me that I am worth getting to know, as well.

That is a good start to explain what it is I want. I almost venture to say need. I’ve compromised a few of these things from time to time, and well.. how has that worked out for me so far? Yeah, I know that no one is perfect. I am not looking for perfection. I am just looking to be true to those things that I know I have longed for.  Those things I know that move me, as a woman. I know I have compromised these things in the past, to not even be met half way. It doesn’t feel good to have people rush in, take what they want and leave the rest. It’s like allowing yourself to be an emotional clearance sale, opening the doors, and allowing people to just pull off what they want, and leave.

No more emotional clearance sales.

I’m just so much more worthy than being last seasons trend.

 

*Insert Wide Awake by Katy Perry. I couldn’t pick a more perfect song for this entry.

My Big Fat Lesbian Life – Demi Moore and Orange Leisure Suits

In Uncategorized on March 8, 2012 at 2:33 pm

I’m going to be blunt, I’m PMSing.

TMI … I know.

My body can’t decide if it’s on, or off.

I get pretty out of sync with things when my body argues with me. I’m that girl that’s dancing to a song, always moving two beats behind while wearing a neon orange leisure suit on the dance floor.

Of course my emotions get all mushy sensitive and I cry over puppy food commercials while devouring chocolate at the speed not quite determined by scientists. Toss in the neon orange leisure suit and I’m a cycle away from a one woman stand up comedy just waiting to self combust.

I’ve been feeling deep about some things. I guess it all started when I read a quote by Demi Moore. Having been recently separated she gave an interview and goes on to say..

“What scares me is that I’m going to ultimately find out at the end of my life that I’m really not lovable, that I’m not worthy of being loved. That there’s something fundamentally wrong with me.” – Demi Moore

What a big thing to say, but what an honest thing to say.

Demi said something I am sure many of us have thought about before and felt from time to time. It’s something we tend to ask ourselves at the tail end of a break-up or a drought in our personal lives as we move from place to place in our hearts, seeking that soft place to fall. However, it’s something that I have been struggling with for quite some time.

I’m sure it all goes back to my childhood, but I’ll spare the long detailed accounts. The result has been that which Demi speaks of, I get it. I completely relate. Yes, I am scared that maybe I am unlovable.

I haven’t had horrible relationships in my life, save for two notable experiences where I’ve allowed the wrong person into my world. Other than that, I’ve been pretty lucky. The recurring theme in all of my past relationship experiences, is that I’m always three sprints short of the finish line and those relationships were not going to go anywhere other than exactly where they went… nowhere.

I could blame Hollywood for the years of movies I grew up watching, conditioning me to believe that someday someone would find me moving enough to stand outside my window with a boom box or a full orchestra to win my heart (though it still is a romantic thought).

In part I’m sure it’s because I’ve always been afraid to step out of the fear of rejection that’s been my shield. It’s saved me from a lot of hurt, I’m sure. Though obviously it didn’t keep me from feeling the pangs of the remnant of a failed marriage that never should have happened in the first place. The fear of exposing my heart and it being rejected is a paralyzing thought, though I’ve been taking that risk hoping it will be different. At my age I am finding risks are sometimes better taken than not. I don’t want to be that woman that is 80 years old, thinking about all the chances I had in front of me and didn’t chose to take them because I was afraid. Though at the same time my fear echoes the words that Demi shared, and perhaps I will find myself an 80 year old woman having graduated from the orange leisure suit to wearing purple (please note reference to the poem When I Am Old, I Shall Wear Purple). I really hope not.

Either way, I refuse to be the crazy cat lady.

http://youtu.be/-j379JbL-xM