Seats

I have 29 seats in the downstairs of my home alone. And, my car is in the garage. It seats 5, well 4 comfortably. That’s over 30 available seats.

In my 20s, I was always looking for space in other people’s lives. I felt relationships were destined to work. I needed confirmation of love. I was almost desperate for attachment.

I didn’t understand the concept of growing apart. I thought we mated for life. I had a very textbook view of relationships, friendships, and family. I tried to make those relationships as sitcom as I possibly could. It was important to me. I needed it.

I grew up an only child, the only child at home. And although I had a lot of friends, our relationships were restricted to wherever they were created. School friends were at school. Dance friends were at dance. Friends were left behind where the friendships were formed. They would be picked back up when we got back there. I learned to be at peace alone, and I value that today.

However, it created confusion on how to manage those relationships as adulthood allowed them to break free of their creation point. I didn’t understand the ebb and flow of make ups and break ups. I fought for relationships I needed to let go. I felt I needed a place in their life. I needed to create a place for them in mine. I saved them a seat. And if they happened to forget to “save” me one, it was okay. I was permanently carrying one on my back. I would sit in a corner or the smallest space. I didn’t take up much room or demand anything. I was just figuring out how to hold on to the relationship.

Heartbreak lives in that behavior, with anxiety and frustration.

Then in my 30s, I stopped making room for everyone. I still carried my chair, but I didn’t keep making room for anyone else in my space. I just tried to fit in theirs.

Forever the chameleon.

Heartbreaks and frustration lives there, too. Anxiety wanes.

Now in my 40s, I realize I have 30+ seats available to me. What the hell do I look like trying to fit in someone else’s space? I can sit in a different seat every day for a month. I can sporadically decide where to sit. I can plan it out. I sit wherever I want to sit, on my seats, in my space. And, I am very welcome there.

Why am I even writing this?

1, because they say I’ve changed. And, I have. People notice when your behavior no longer suits them. They notice your behavior, but they will ignore the behavior they had that didn’t appreciate you. They will act as if their behaviors never impacted yours. Yes. I switched up. I realized that if you don’t provide me a comfortable, considerate, seat in your life, I can skip home and sit on one of the ones I already have.

2, because someone may be reading this struggling with relationships in their own life. Hopefully this gives you the nudge you need to let go of the pressure you feel to maintain that relationship, or maintain it in its current state.

Pick up your seat and go to the house. You’re welcome and comfortable there, and that’s what you deserve. Shortly after you realize this, people will start taking up the seats around you. They will want to be in those seats, and they will invite you into their lives too.

I promise.

Please know that I’m switching seats right now, just because I can.

“I’m reciprocating your energy.”

“I’m reciprocating your energy.” He said flat.

Best thing I’ve heard in a minute. I’m sure it was meant to shock me, bother me, or hurt my feelings. But it just caught my attention. It made me realize that I’m really not that interested. And, my waning interested is now being projected onto this man as if he’s done something wrong.

Nope, it’s not him. It’s me. And, he just called me out.

I go after what I want. I don’t follow any of the rules of communication or dating. I text when I feel moved too. I say what I need to say. I respond incredibly well to someone who does the same. Life is too short. Time moves too fast. Let’s just do what feels good in the moment. No games. No shenanigans

“You’ve been distant.” He said. Then he sighed like he’s been avoiding this conversation.

“I know.” I said. Then I sighed, too. When in Rome, I guess.

“I’m not about to be that dude that’s begging you for attention.”

“I get that.” I sighed again. This time an emotional reaction. No sarcasm. “I have a lot on my plate. I just think that I was really overeager in thinking I could pursue a relationship right now.”

“You think, or you know.”

Sigh. “I know.”

“Uh huh.” Sigh.

I ended this moment with the whole friends line. We got off the phone, and we will probably never speak again.

“I’m reciprocating your energy.” Those were powerful words.

How often have we gotten a thousand hints and clues that we aren’t in the same place as someone else? And, then in an absolute refusal to accept what’s before us, we keep pushing our own agenda on them. THEN. We have the audacity to be upset that our feelings haven’t been reciprocated. They’ve been telling you they aren’t feeling you the same way for a hot minute. They haven’t been reciprocating your energy.

Damn. They were telling you without telling you. You didn’t listen.

Old saying goes…we make time for what is important. If they aren’t making time for you, you aren’t that important to them. They aren’t your person. All the saying apply.

The right person will make you a priority. You will be important. Remember that I said this.

Promise.

“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.

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