“I want to be really important to someone.”

Reconnected with a guy I never had a great connection with in the very first. Just practice dating, for the most part. He’s a nice guy. There’s no chemistry, but in a different scenario, we would’ve been great friends. Good friends. Probably friendly.

He hit me with the intense questions early on. Why didn’t we work? What happened? And, of course, I gave all the best textbook answers. We didn’t have the strongest connection. Let’s just be friends. Bookended with, “you’re a great guy.” Thankfully he accepted those answers. He nodded agreement, and that portion of our conversation ended with, what I’m assuming, was a genuine smile.

Then he hit me with, “what do you even want?” Felt abrasive. He chuckled at the end.

“Is this an attack?” I asked with a laugh. Outright laugh. No chuckle. I’m humored.

“Not at all. I just wonder if you know. Many women don’t. Or, they can’t articulate it.” His back was straighter. He recognized he’d hit a nerve.

He didn’t know that I’m a master of articulation. “I just want to be really important to someone.”

“Explain.” He’s really looking for a response. Ready to hang on my every word.

“Bet.”

I went on to explain that I want to be considered, prioritized, thought of, and desired. It’s not complicated. Golden Rule really. Treat me the way you want to be treated.

I want to cross your mind, even in the most trivial moments. Your intentions include effort. You want me to know how much you care for me in word and action. It’s tangible and intangible.

Because that’s what I’m offering. It’s not one-sided here. I’m living my expectations.

Haven’t I said this before. Haven’t I had this conversation with some man who claimed he didn’t know what I wanted. (Periods used because those aren’t REALLY questions. They’re statements, because I have.) Frustrating. I’m so transparent. Articulating and shit.

Deja vu.

He asked how he didn’t do that. No. No. No. This isn’t an attack at you. Not about you. Chemistry. Remember?

Disclaimer: Although stated with heavy sarcasm and annoyance, this is not a cry for help. Please don’t bombard me with all your positive energy. I’m fine.

I just recognize that the feelings of importance are the most important to me today. Who knows what the future holds.

I have no respect for a parent who doesn’t take care of their child(ren)

Really that’s the whole post. That’s an entire sermon. Thus said the Lord.

Kids need emotional and financial support. They need a safe space to live, food in their bellies, and clothes on their backs. They need to know they are loved and their feelings are respected.

When I send my boys out into the world, they are going as fulfilled and whole individuals. They will be ready to tackle life, be supportive of the people they engage with, and pour positivity back into the world. They won’t be perfect, but they will be intentional, kind, smart, thoughtful, and compassionate.

I take my responsibility as a mother incredibly important. All of it! The money I spend is as valuable as the time I spend. It is the most impactful responsibility I have.

Please don’t come talk to me about anything and try to justify not providing for your children. I will not be able to hear you.

I mean, do you realize this is the definition of dead beat?

The only thing keeping me from burying you in your own ridiculousness is this walk with God. Be blessed.

Somewhere in Texas, I have an exe running all through my social media right now.

No one keeps tabs on you like someone that’s done you wrong. I mean dirty. Ridiculous.

They want to see who you love, who loves you, and every move you’ve made since you shook them.

Borderline obsessed? Not really. They probably aren’t reviewing your life daily, but at some point something will remind them of you. And, they will waste hours of their time checking on you. You will be running marathons in their head.

The impact you had on their life wasn’t ignored. It just wasn’t appreciated. And, after you’ve gotten the strength to change your life, they will reminisce and wonder while switching back and forth between your IG and FB.

So…keep posting.

I got my feelings hurt.

Feels like I have about a thousand of these posts. I recognize that enough should be enough. Maybe the realization has to come with individuals. Maybe the lesson is supposed to be learned again and again. IDK. Well, this is life.

I blame myself though.

I heard this story once. While walking, during the winter, this man discovered a snake frozen on his path. He hesitates briefly, but brings the snake home. He carefully places the snake near the fire. The snake warms. And, the man excitedly reaches out to embrace the snake once he realizes he’s going to be okay. Immediately the snake bites the man. The man is confused. He’s angry. After all he’s done. He rescued this snake from near death. He brought the snake into his home. How dare this snake not be grateful and kind? The man starts to scold the snake. He demands and explanation for the snake’s behavior. The snake hisses and says, “through it all, you knew I was a snake.”

Damn.

I’m not saying this person was a snake, because he didn’t hiss at me. But, I did get bit.

If I offer you friendship, while balancing career and home, kids, life, passion, and responsibilities, I expect you to offer me friendship back. You don’t have to be me. And, you don’t have to be perfect. You just have to be friendly.

Because I thought that him seeking me out meant he was mature enough to be my friend. Now I realize that he sought me out because he needed the friend he knew I’m capable of being. He needed me.

It didn’t even dawn on him that I may have needed him too.

Clarification: I’m not scorned. I’m not a desperate woman who missed out on love. I wasn’t certain that was a path I wanted to cross anyway. I didn’t rush him into my romantic life because I wasn’t sure he had a place there. I’m not angry or bitter. I wasn’t holding out hope for more. I just expected him to be the friend I’d been to him. He hurt my feelings.

Never stray too far from who you are.

Heard something on TV today that rang startlingly true.

“It’s not uncommon for any of us. If we feel passionate about another person, and that relationship is not going well, it could shift who we are. We could become somebody we’re not.”

Thank you Tom Thompson, of Miamisburg Police Department, from season 25 episode 1 of Snapped. You sir, just explained the crazy person in the relationship.

I wish I had a church fan right now. I need something to wave. Tom T. better preach.

This is the total truth. We have all fallen from grace in a highly emotional situation. We have all stepped out of character. Each of us has an embarrassing story.

I’m pleading with you, take a moment when your heart is breaking. You’re devastated. You may even be furious. Take a moment, just one, and remember who you are! Listen Queen. Listen King. You are not to stoop to their level. Be the person who builds a bridge and gets over it. Do not give them the satisfaction of seeing you be anyone other than the royalty you are.

Cry when you get home, privately. Call a friend. Call a real friend. Talk it out, privately. Do not embark on a path of embarrassment. Remind yourself that EVERYONE has a camera phone. Don’t be the hot new thing.

This concludes my PSA.

We make time for what’s important.

This is what I know. A man that is truly interested in you, will not let the sun set without connecting with you. Ever. Unless one of you is incapacitated. That’s the truth. I promise.

Same goes for a woman. At the minimum, there will be a good morning text, a midday check in, or a “how was your day” to shut it all down. I promise.

I know a man is interested in me when he wants to be the first and last person I connect with each day. Equally, I know that a man is not that interested when he lets the day pass without ensuring I’m “good.” Literally the text I’d get from my exe, “you good?” Randomly throughout the day. I knew we were solid…until we weren’t. And I knew we weren’t when the communication started to die. We got to a point that we weren’t hitting the minimum. He wasn’t interested in connecting with me. No hard feelings, though. I promise.

Pay attention to who makes times for you. We are all very busy. Time is precious, and it has to be manipulated often. Give credit to the person who found a couple minutes to check in. Ignore the person who claims to not have been able to find the time. Because they are only too busy for you. I promise.

We make time for what’s important. I promise.

No apologies.

I’m not apologizing for my strength, my directness, my sex, or my skin. There will be no apologies to make you more comfortable. Get over it. #PSA

40 feels good.

This is 40…

I’ve had A LOT of anxiety about turning 40. It came up so quickly. My youth is behind me. Technically, I’ve bypassed middle age. We may never know, but IJS.

40 didn’t feel celebratory. It felt inevitable. It was this 24th day of January, or die on the 23rd. Happy I made it through. Even though I’m convinced heaven will be so incredible we will feel stupid for being nervous, I want to stay here. I want to love my boys, drink margs and eat queso, travel this world, and drive around in my new Bronco for awhile. I’m not done. Please God, let me stay.

Tangent.

40 makes me anxious because although I’ve accomplished stuff, I’m behind. I’m not where I’d planned to be. I’ve so much work to do. I have to get things done while the getting is good, as I’ve been told.

I’m studying change. I want change in my own life. The old ways haven’t gotten me any new success. I’m manifesting the greatest accomplishments, putting in the work, demanding what I want, and saying no EVERY SINGLE TIME it feels right.

I am embracing this next decade with everything in me. I’m anxious and apprehensive. I’m terrified and excited. I’m ready. 40 is going to be this expansive, extensive, adventure that I’ll learn and grow in. I’m taking everything it has to offer. I’ll put my feet up in my 50s.

XOXO

Today

I’m sitting in a salon chair. It’s been about 15-20 minutes of hair color doing it’s thing. I’m spilling my guts to my hair stylist. I’m wallowing in the chaos of my life, and she’s refusing to let me throw this pity party. She’s pouring positivity into my situation. She’s encouraging me. She’s building me up. She’s loving me wholeheartedly.

This is the only type of relationship I want in my 40s, and I’m just days away from entrance. I’ve had everything else. I’ve been everywhere else. I’m only entertaining the absolute best for me in this next decade. Personally, I’m living in the moments. I’m taking it day by day.

Because anything else will destroy me. I recognize that.

Grateful for the people who remind you of the way God works, the strength you forgot you had, and the beauty of your talents.

XOXO

FYI: Professionally, I’m knocking off heads and demanding everything I want. IJS. The personal me, and the professional me, will have more separation.

Must I repeat myself?

Few years back I talked to this guy. He was nice enough, handsome enough, and carried enough of a conversation to maintain my interest for months. We had chemistry, but nothing ever came of it. Then we fizzled out.

Couple years later, we started again. Same chemistry, and we moved a little further along. Then it blew up. He played silly games. There was unnecessary conflict. It came to a hard stop.

Couple years after that, he resurfaced. We had a conversation about the past early on. I didn’t want to live that again. Any resemblance of the past was a deal breaker. I can’t keep traveling the same paths expecting different destinations.

It imploded. Felt it big, but it wasn’t much of a show. I just faded into black. I wasn’t going to have another conversation about expectations and what was. I just wanted to leave.

Couple months later, he pops up out of nowhere with a declaration and hope. Nah, bruh. I can’t do it again. I can’t keep repeating myself to adults. Especially not to adults where I’m not clocked in, earning compensation for regurgitating these words. Because my hourly wage is the only thing that would encourage me to do this for the umpteenth, or third-ish, time with you. Believe that.

The fact that I gave you those other chances has led you to believe I always will, and that’s very false. I misled you. I apologize.

Your inability to lead a strong relationship, to do what you say, and be accountable are really undesirable characteristics. I’m no longer attracted to you, but we can always be cool.