“I’m in love with you. I’d die for you.”

  
“I’m in love with you. I’d die for you.” Rich in Faith on Oxygen

FYI: The first man who says this to me, in a believable way, has me. I’m yours. It’s done. It’s a wrap. I’m all in. 

I was hanging out on my couch, watching whatever was on TV when I turned it on, and too far from the remote to have options. When Rich in Faith came on. It’s a reality show about a preacher named Rich and his life. I’m guessing, though. I’ve never seen or heard of this show before today. Seems good, though. 

It opens with Rich and his wife discussing a situation he’s uncomfortable with. She’s telling him it’s no big deal, and he’s trying to make her understand why he’s so passionate about the situation and her safety. And he says, “I’m in love with you. I’d die for you.” Whoa. That’s what I’m waiting to hear! That’s the love I want to have and share. That’s it. Put it in a box and deliver it to me, ASAP. 

And then, The Bodyguard came on. Wow. 

That’s it. 

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First Draft: “What do I want?”

  
What do I want?

I finally figured it out. And, it only took heartbreak, headache, and frustration.

This is the first draft. (More like the 99th draft over the years, but those didn’t really get me anywhere.)

I want to be adored. I want to be appreciated. I want to be valued. I want to be loved. I want to be respected. I want to be cared for. I want to be doted on. I want to be loved. I want to be safe. I want to be protected. I want to be motivated. I want to be loved. I want to be supported. I want stability. I want to be a priority. 

I deserve that.

Side note: A few small changes, and this could be my wedding vows. 

Magic 8 Ball, will I ever get married?

 

I want a wedding. 

  

Of course, I want a wedding.  I’ve been planning and designing it since I was a little girl.  Almost had one once. Asked to have one twice. Of course, I want a wedding.

I imagine styling my natural hair like something I’ve pinned from Pinterest. Maybe growing it long enough for a high bun or having it straightened like the old me. My make up will be understated. I want to look like me, but lots of lashes. I want my lashes to show in photographs. Individual lashes, nothing that screams falsies, done by a professional. 

I’ll wear diamond earrings. Something large, celebrity, and with the same cut as my engagement ring. Any other jewelry will be determined based on my hair, but I must have the earrings. 

My dress will be traditional, fitted. Classic with considerable beadwork or lace. And, I’ll wear flats everywhere but in pictures.

I’ll have just a few bridesmaids. I can only think of 3. They’ll wear different dresses based on their comfort level and body type. I really like olive green and coral. Something in one of those colors. We’ll make jewelry. Design it  with them. Make it with them. Sharing my passion. They’ll carry small bouquets in Fall colors. 

Fall wedding. I’m thinking late September to mid-October. 

My son will walk me down the aisle. He will wear a black tuxedo and white Converse. I love Converse. He doesn’t. Great opportunity to get him to wear them. I’ll pin a hot pink rose in his lapel just as the doors open for us. We will talk the entire way down. I’ll have a vintage handkerchief. He will have some  Kleenex in his pocket for me. He will tell me he’s happy. And, all my jitters will subside. We will stop at my parents. I’ll hug them both. And, they will all stand for me when the pastor asks who gives me to be married. 

The ceremony will be simple. Flower girl and ring bearer, but not all of those other roles. I know I want a soloist, but I have no idea what they would sing. I’m sure I don’t want any of those sand or water ceremonies. I hope my future husband isn’t counting on those. Also, no stand up comedy by the pastor. Romantic, comfortable, and simplistic. Straight to the point, and on to the reception. 

The wedding and reception will be at the same venue. Same room if I can make it work. No standing around. No waiting and boredom. As soon as we exit for picture taking and quiet moments, the music starts, appetizers round, and drinks start to flow. My husband, family, and wedding party get a little down time. We get a moment, but the party continues. No one notices I’ve stolen time with my new husband, taken a thousand pictures with the people I love, and I’m high-fiving my son in a corner because he wore the Converse and didn’t complain. 

Within an hour, we will make an entrance. Nothing too grand, I’m uncomfortable with too much attention. Shortly after, I’ll take the dance floor. My dad and I will dance, and Blaise will cut in. Then my new husband will cut in, the song will change to I’d Rather by Luther Vandross, and someone will announce our first dance. We will dance and talk about how perfect everything is, how we can’t believe we are pulling it all off, and how much we appreciate everyone coming. We will laugh, and he will spin me. Then everyone will join and we will dance until dinner arrives. And, we will dance again after dinner. And, we will dance until we cut the cake. And, we will dance again. Eventually, we will thank everyone who came. There will be wardrobe changes, make up updates, and garders and bouquets. We will do all of that too. 

I can’t decide if I’ll have a band or DJ. I’ve gone back and forth between the two. A band seems glamorous. A DJ seems much more practical. I don’t know, but probably a DJ. If so, he will have to dress better than DJs I’ve seen in the past at weddings. IJS

At the end of the night, we will all depart. My new husband and I will spend the night with close family. The honeymoon will be scheduled the next day. The family part will continue until then. Pictures will continue into the night. We will go to bed late, after more drinks, movies, and family fun stuff. We will be a family for awhile longer before we are just a couple on a vacation. At some point, teary eyed, I will declare that I married my bestfriend.

I can have a wedding, an incredible wedding even. I just don’t know how I feel about marriage. 

Love songs

Love songs are meant for weddings. I can’t remember ever listening to a love song and thinking, “Yep, that’s my relationship. That’s the epitome of US.”

I listen to love songs, much like I listen to the radio…mindlessly. I sing along with the words, memorize the melody, and have no idea what’s going on. They don’t speak to me. I’m not yearning for love through a song. I’m not jealous of what they found. I don’t even hear most of the words. 

But a sad break up song…AMEN!

I was driving back home after dropping my son off. 2 1/2 hours, varying speed limits, trapped in my Mini Cooper ALONE. The radio station, it took me 15 minutes to find, gave out as soon as I went back in the direction I’d come. 

Thank God for auxiliary cables and iTunes. 

I have this thing where I randomly pick from my artist collection and just listen to everything I have of theirs on shuffle. There’s a lot of good stuff that never makes it to the radio. And, I feel like the money I spent on the entire album is much better invested. 

Jazmine Sullivan, Fearless

“Lions, Tigers, & Bears”

“Bust Your Windows”

All I need is a good girlfriend to commerate with and a vodka and cranberry. She is singing my life…kinda. The stuff I think about, but can’t actually do because I’m protecting my clean criminal record. 

I knew almost every word to every song on the album. Was waving my hands, shaking my head, and hopelessly trying to harmonize. That’s what a good break up song will do for you. 

Who needs love songs…unless it’s that classic old school mix after the Electic Slide, while they’re serving us single girls cake. 

I’m in my 30s. Really in them.

It’s my birthday, a couple days past. Yep. I’m another year older. Hello 34. Do me right.

I was talking to a friend of mine the other night. Thanks Kels. And, we were talking about dating in our 30s. It’s different. It’s definitely different…for us.

Our priorities have changed. We bend, but we don’t break. We make sacrifices and honor our loved ones. We do the hard stuff now. The game changed.

I was a different person in my 20s. I was very self serving. I was focused on me. I thought I knew what I wanted, had trouble figuring out how to get it, but I thought I knew. I didn’t.

I had some unattainable dreams and goals. Thought the world was going to make a place for me. No more. I’m figuring it out, but I’ve stopped the dreaming and started the work.

You can’t date me haphazardly. You can’t just see what comes. You need to be intentional and honest. You need to do the work.

Let’s cut to the chase. I’m dating to marry. I’m dating for a family and longevity. I want to know where this is ultimately going. I’m not laying it all on the table at the first meeting, but it’s the route I’m going. What are your intentions? What’s your plan, pal?

In my 20s, I would fake a lot interest for feelings sake. I laughed at dumb jokes, and pretended to be interested in things I could care less about. Not anymore. You must earn my interest. Let’s discuss real topics, debate a little, and even agree to disagree.

I’ve said this all before, I’m sure, but I haven’t done well about living it. But in my 30s, I’d rather be upset and disappointed for a few days than live in it with anyone for a lifetime.

There’s no more wishes and big plans. I am who I am. I’m not selling who I hope to be one day. There aren’t any conversations about what I plan to be when I grow up or who I want to be. I am her. I’m fine tuning her, but my personality and views are pretty well established.

I’m demanding. I’m demanding you to say what you need to say and do what you need to do 100% of the time. I am practicing that, even when it seems impossible. You need to do the same.

Show up. Speak your mind. And know, that tomorrow is not promised. I’m not promised. In my 30s, I’m not leaving my choices up to hopefulness. Do the work.

Someone needed to hear this. I hope you figure it out. But if you don’t, I hope you are comfortable in the bed you made.

Plans are made to be changed, right?

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Watching something Kardashian right now. Khloe is freaking out about turning 30 because she isn’t where she planned to be in her life. Me too, girl. Me. Too.

I thought, for sure, I’d be running my own business and juggling a husband and 2-3 kids by now. Ummm…nope. I was supposed to be in a different place, but I’m not.

I’m 33. I don’t have a husband. I DO have a perfect son, though. But, I didn’t have him in the situation I’d planned out. My career isn’t as planned. My business is sitting at a stalemate.

Nothing is according to plan. Nothing.

And, a HUGE part of me wants to pull it all back together. I want to fix it. I want another baby and a man (not sure about marriage anymore). I want my business to flourish. I want to let the retail life go to focus on the other stuff. I want things to get back on track…a decade late.

But what if it doesn’t happen? Am I interested in having a baby? Yes. But, am I interested in continuing as a single mom? I don’t know. I don’t like being a single mom. I don’t like it at all, but I can do it. I’ve been doing it. And, my son is perfect. He’s perfect. Seriously, he’s perfect.

And, marriage freaks me out. I want forever with someone. But, that same forever makes me anxious. Does that mean I just haven’t met the right person? I don’t know.

Planning is great, but you can plan all day, straight through the night, and into tomorrow and it just not work. Life is designed to rock you. You’re supposed to be thrown into the impossible to figure it out. Life is just that way.

So to all of you, to us, who’s plans didn’t work out, it’s okay. Instead of being stuck in what didn’t happen, let’s figure out what is happening. Pray over the change, and keep going. Time is going to keep moving, and God changes plans for better outcomes than what we could have ever imagined.

“So, I’m dating a widower. And, it feels like a competition.”

Whoa.

If you are competing with his deceased wife, YOU WILL LOSE!

In death, most people become saints. Her sins have been forgiven, and he’s going to mourn her forever.

You are still around to make mistakes. You lose.

This was all prompted by a conversation I had with a friend recently. She’s involved with a single dad who lost his wife during child birth. And although she does what she can to support them, it’s often met with accusations of wanting to replace the deceased, primarily by her family.

Step back. If you love him, and this child, you will wait when needed and give them the time necessary…all parties involved (this means her family). This doesn’t mean you leave the relationship or take unnecessary hits. It merely means that you tuck your feelings in, and don’t make the mourning about you.

Easier said than done? Quite possibly.