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Posts Tagged ‘Writing’

My Big Fat Life – Now

In Uncategorized on February 22, 2015 at 11:13 pm

I stated counseling.

This is a pretty big step for me. I decided that I simply need a place to talk and work through some of the ways my life has changed. I had my first appointment this past week. It was the “get to know you” appointment. You know, that one where you talk about yourself and relive every crappy decision you have made while they take notes.

I think this is going to be a good thing.

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My Big Fat Life – Dating Men

In Uncategorized on January 5, 2015 at 5:45 am

Dating men.

Years ago when I used to date men my friends would find my dating stories entertaining. Not because they were good, but because my dates were bad. Very bad. From the guy who came up behind me and grabbed my hips while thrusting into me (I had innocently bent over a display in the store… yes, he did this is public) to the guy who tried to convince me that God didn’t want him masturbating so he needed me to give him a hand job. It seemed my dates were more set ready for a comedy tour than to set the stage for a successful relationship. For the record both of those were first dates.

Dating women seemed to be easier in a lot of ways because we communicated in a very personal way. We would spend the first hour of a conversation learning about each other. Our favorite colors, band, movie, where we grew up and all of that basic information we talk to people we are interested in getting to know better. Men, however, have proved to be a different experience.

Since I started to date men again, I’ve been on a few dates.  A sad majority of them have been listening to people tell me what a rotten awful person their ex is, and/or how they are just looking for a good time. One guy spent an hour telling me how wonderful he was, and another showed up looking NOTHING like his profile photo (this is also the guy who also informed me in the middle of dinner that he was too distracted by my breasts while looking at me, to even look me in the eyes while talking). Since a majority do seem to want to talk about their ex, I’ve I considered starting my own mobile dating crisis counseling service. Possibly setting up an app that allows guys to book a date with me. Payment in form of dinner, and random compliment not related to my breasts.

*make note to invest in tacky shirt that says “My other eyes are green” *

Now… I am not trying to make men seem shallow. I don’t believe they all are. I just simply have had some pretty bad experiences. In part because I guess I expect men to communicate the same way I would if I were interested in getting to know someone. I know I wouldn’t spend time starting at their chest, and I certainly wouldn’t spent the first 45 minutes of being in their presence talking about how awful my ex is. I just wanna know what your favorite pizza is, and if you can tell some stellar jokes.

I’ve made a big change in dating, and I expected it would be a learning curve. I’ve gotten to sharpen up my listening skills, and that’s always a good thing, right?  I guess a part of me is still just confused about the communication piece. Or maybe I’m not, and I still don’t understand why someone wouldn’t want to take the time to get to know me as a person or involve in a two way conversation over dinner. Is it really that hard to ask someone what their favorite color is?

Green.

So here I am on this adventure changing my whole way of life. So far it’s been interesting, and not exactly in the best way. But I guess it is all how you look at it, so maybe I will start writing a comedy sketch or shopping around for reality shows that might want to follow an out of the closet heterosexual, who is raising 4 boys on her own as we weave our way through the medical journey of one. TLC might be in the market now that Honey Boo Boo is off the air.

I know the differences between how men and women communicate is usually pretty different. I get that. Despite knowing this, I am still holding to my desire that someone might find me fascinating enough to want to know what my favorite flower is. If I don’t, I may start to ask people to sign releases and my dating life may soon be coming to a stage near you.

I’ll call it the Diaries of Dating: A One Woman Show. It’ll tour for one date only. I’ll whine about my ex for the first 45 minutes of a set, and then get too distracted by my own breasts to continue talking while looking at the audience.

I think I have the perfect shirt to wear for this.

My Big Fat Life – Last Pill

In Uncategorized on June 12, 2014 at 1:07 pm

June 11th was supposed to be the last day of prednisone, but apparently I counted the days wrong, and it was this morning. This day has been a dreaded coming.

When I was putting his pills in his medication dispenser a few days a go, I started tearing up. The forced reality that this is it, really hit me. This is the last time the Doctors are putting Gabriel on prednisone as a treatment for his condition, and we are cautiously hoping the colchicine works.

Tomorrow marks the last day of school for him and his brothers, so I’m pushing the homework to get the boys finished. It’s been a really stressful week around here preparing for the end of school, and the end of Gabriel’s prednisone treatment. I am looking forward to school being over for a few months while we get Gabriel’s health sorted out. I was really hoping to do something fun for the kids after school released, but I have no clue what I can do that will keep us close to home just in case Gabriel gets sick again. I also need to start looking at the fact that I need to move. The boys and I have been cramped in this stupid apartment that the ex and I moved into as transitional housing until a home was purchased for us to live in, but we have outgrown it and honestly I would love to have a washer and dryer of my own, instead of using the laundry room. The money I am spending to live here and pay to do laundry, isn’t really putting my money to work to help a single parent who needs every penny possible, to feed 4 boys. If you are reading this and know of available housing, please feel free to email me. You can reach me at lesbian_spaghetti@yahoo.com.

So here we are, and here we go…

#FeelsLikeAWeekOfMonday

(Gabriel on the morning of surgery 8/8/2013 and 5/2014. Less than a year difference and you can see how prednisone and this illness has taken it’s toll)

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My Big Fat LIfe -The Perks of Being Me

In Uncategorized on April 15, 2014 at 3:41 pm

I’ve been waiting for doctors to talk to each other, and decide what the game plan is, since last week. I have called every day, and at times I have even spoke to the doctors themselves, who promise me they will speak to each other, and then the next time we talk.. nothing.

Today I spoke to one of the cardiologists and made it clear that I am waiting for them to hurry up and get it together, so we can get Gabriel where he needs to be. I am giving it just a couple of more days, and then I am just showing up at their office and waiting to see someone. This is ridiculous.

In the meantime, I just feel the need to write today. It’s been a pretty busy few days, and throw in the fact that my phone landed in a puddle of water today, I think I am ready for a hug and some coffee. The upside today, is that Dark Horse Comics sent a package of graphic novels to the house, as a gift, and is giving us a private tour of the campus in a few weeks. I really appreciate the extension of kindness.

I was looking over my blog last night, and read the entries from 2012. I measured where I am now, compared to where I was then, and I feel like I have changed a lot as a person. Some of it holds pretty true, though 2012 seems to be the year that I had a lot of awakenings.

I also realized it’s now been three years since I started this blog. The anniversary of it all just escaped me. Life has just moved on that much. That is really exciting to me, considering there was a time I was scared I would never be able to feel whole again. I will admit there have been times I have considered tearing down this blog. I look back at the entries of 2011, and I am just so embarrassed that I was that sad over a relationship that was really nothing more than a disaster. But then I get an email from someone else who is in that place, where I was in 2011, and I remember how much it meant to me to know all those things I felt, and how isolating they were. I don’t want others to feel alone, and I hope they read past those entries and see that life does move on. I guess I just don’t want people to read it, and judge me on who I used to be. I want people to get to know me for who I have grown into. Especially when dating is in the picture. People have the advantage of reading my life, and that is really exposing.

So I thank those who have been reading my journey these past three years. I especially wanted to thank those who sent me texts, emails, and support when I recently revealed that I am interested in dating men, in my blog “I Learned”. I was terrified to write out that truth, but I knew I needed to.

In closing this, I wanted to share a quote from a movie I have playing in the background while writing this. “We accept the love we think we deserve.” – The Perks of Being A Wallflower. Take that for what it means to you. To me, it means staying true to those things I wrote in Jan. 2013. I hope whatever it means to you, it means that you find good things from, and for, yourself.

 

 

 

 

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 – 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- My First Time

In Uncategorized on February 4, 2013 at 11:55 pm

Last time I wrote I had spoken of Bea, who I deleted from my Facebook. I have to admit I was surprised to see a note from her in my inbox asking me why I had. I didn’t think she would even notice to be honest. She did. I struggled with an answer for a bit, and had to process. Because I was still uncertain as to why in some aspects. But I wanted to be honest with her this time. She is the woman I just stopped contact with when I moved up here to Portland, because I found it easier.. safer.. to just stop talking to her, than have to be vulnerable and share with her the truths that I had been carrying around. So I responded. I am working towards being open with people, even when I don’t like being vulnerable. I guess I have believed if I kept it to myself, then it’s safe tucked somewhere away. There it can sit and that information can’t be seen as a weakness in my shield or expose some part of me that might show how vulnerable I can really be.

When I found myself in a place with her 20 something years after high school, she was  more than just a sexual experience with someone. She was by all accounts, my first. There was a lot of meaning behind what I shared with her. It wasn’t just a sexual thing that happened, though I knew it couldn’t be more. She was literally just out of a relationship with someone and both of us were in places that weren’t really the best foundation for the start of something new. I knew that, but my heart wasn’t listening to my head at the time.

When things came to a halt between us, I walked away feeling hurt and honestly I felt like maybe I was just a fling that didn’t mean much even though in reality I knew that’s all it would be for me. All this time I held the idea that what we shared, and what I had shared (unbeknownst to her) was nothing more than just sex. It hurt every time I saw her post something on her page, and for the longest time I guess I couldn’t really understand why. But when I sat down to write her back, the words just spilled out and there it was before me. There was no longer denying it, or even escaping it. For what it was, I knew I had to be honest with her and tell her everything.

I didn’t know how she would respond to my left field confessions, and I didn’t even know if she would respond at all. But there they were, and there was no taking the words back to fill in the cracks I was exposing in my shield. While writing I also realized part of why I never shared with her, was because I didn’t want to give that power to someone else. To know that they were given something that could be used against me in a way to hurt me, or have some sort of power. Yet, she wrote me back the most thoughtful, caring letter. It was more than I expected, and it was mindful and considerate. Tears that I didn’t realize I had for her flowed without restraint. She told me that I wasn’t just sex to her at the time, and shared some things that explained the space she was in at the time. It made sense to me, and I understood with consideration. This hurt I felt was healing, and I was feeling a closure that I couldn’t create for myself. I felt like that maybe a door was opening for me to be able to reach out to her in time, and a friendship.. a real friendship.. could develop. Bea had no clue that she was more than my first big girl crush in high school, she was also a first in many other ways and was becoming a first for me again in some way. I don’t regret that I shared those firsts with her, I only regret I wasn’t open with her to begin with. Who knows how things would have been had I been able to be more open with her, I am not sure I even want to analyze the reasons why. I just know that it felt good to show a crack in my shield and while I know not every response will be as generous or as caring when I do, it still felt nice to jump out there and be openly honest with myself.

They say you never really forget your first, but I would like to actually meet her.

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.