But, I’m not happy. 

This is a hard story to tell. It’s a hard realization to live. 

I’m not happy, but I want to be. 

Is he the one? Or, isn’t he? 

I’d trust my instincts, if they were clear. 

I’m having a hard time. 

We’re having a hard time.

This will either make us…

or break us. 

It’s really simple and kinda complex. All our little problems have come to a head. It’s all the little ticks combining to work our nerves. All the little things have become a big thing, and they’re sucking all the air out of the relationship. 

Neither of us had done a fully committed relationship in a decade. Yep, a decade. There was that guy. He and I were involved, but it wasn’t solid. It wasn’t whole. It didn’t really work. And, he had a few girls. Neither of us have done this though. Not for a minute. Not in a minute. And, we didn’t totally miss it. 

Now, we’re smashed together. We’ve done the meet the family thing. We’ve committed. We’ve stretched ourselves thin for each other. We are in this thing. But, it all happened so fast. 

How did I go from a single mom to a girlfriend, future fiancé, one day wife, and hugging his family members in .002 seconds? What happened? When did it happen?

Why can’t I catch my breath?

What are we doing?

I felt like my identity was fading. I was signing up for things that were bigger than I could fathom. I was being sucked up in this relationship machine. I needed to escape. I was overwhelmed. 

I wasn’t happy. 

I needed to hit the pause button. I need to stop this and find myself in it. I had lost my voice. I was  just doing what I was supposed to do. I was getting drug along.

It wasn’t his intention. He hadn’t compromised in a decade. He has a strong personality. He was doing so many perfect relationship things. He was handing business. If I didn’t speak loud enough, his commanding presence just rolled right over me. 

I stopped talking. I stopped trying. I stopped being in the relationship. I started emotionally connecting elsewhere. I was shutting him out. I wasn’t happy. He couldn’t figure it out, because I wasn’t letting him in.

We’re in a tough space. We’re struggling. This is so hard. 

We aren’t happy. 

So, we are both living in this gray space. Neither of us is certain if we want to stay the course or cut and run. We aren’t done, but we aren’t convinced we should keep going. 

Damned if we do. 

Damned if we don’t. 

Exhausted. 

Know your worth?


I’ve battled, for a thousand years, with the phrase “know your worth.”

I don’t think anyone ever told me my worth. I don’t think I understood my worth. And, I didn’t know how to establish it. 

I believe the value you place on yourself is directly related to how you have been treated, your wants and desires, and how you feel about yourself. 

In using the phrase we forget that everyone doesn’t have a good foundation of worth and isn’t realistic with expectations. 

I’m still figuring out my own worth. I’m still trying to establish that in my life. 

And, I’ve done that through trial and error mostly, but I’m devising a better plan as I go. 

To start, I’m certain that I’m worth what I’m offering..honesty, reliability, compassion, sincerity, fun, and passion. If the man I date, the friendship I build, or the job I take can’t give me those things back, then we have a huge issue of respect. And, I can’t imagine I’m gonna stay around that long. 

Second, I’m a catch. Seriously, I am. I’m worthwhile. I may not be ideal for everyone, but that doesn’t lessen my importance. I realize that. And because of that, any opportunities that don’t work out just weren’t meant for me. They aren’t because I’m inadequate. 

That was a really hard lesson. 

So knowing your worth is about knowing yourself. 

Duh, I know. 

But there are so many of us that are less than experts on self. So, instead of focusing on a worth that’s yet to be defined. Figure out who you are. Establish what you’re bringing to the table. And, value yourself as you currently are even if improvements can be made. We can all make improvements. 

Once you’ve mastered that, you will have a good grip on knowing your worth. 

Good luck. 

God speed. 

What’s the plan?

What do you want? What are you looking for? What are you willing to do to get there?

Nothing else haphazard. 

Before I start any more relationship journeys, I need to know where this is headed. 

Point blank. Period. 

Everyone has a general plan. We all have an end game. It may not be easily satisfied or obtained, but it exists. 

Name it. 

Because I want forever. I want commitment and love, in natural progression. 

Oh…I’m your home girl?

New guy. My guy. The met his mama and his whole family guy. The met my dad and my son guy. The drop off lunch guy. The flowers delivered for an apology guy. The drive me, my son, and his friend to camp two hours away guy. The pick my son up from the same damn camp a week later guy. The late for work to ensure I’m okay guy. The fix my tire in the dark guy. The let’s vacation overseas together guy. The “don’t you wanna marry me one day” guy. The stay at his house, eat most meals with, talk about building an empire together guy. Yep, that guy. 

That guy just referred to me as his home girl. 

Huh? Excuse me? 

Me? You can’t possibly be referring to me. 

I almost went scary movie off. I mean run for your life type shit. Your home girl? Me? Really?

“First and foremost, I am too f*cking old to be anyone’s home girl. Too. F*cking. Old.”

Excuse my French. Inserted for both dramatic effect, and because it’s exactly what I said. 

And, for the romantics, I heard it with my own two ears, sitting beside him, on the couch, in silence. Please don’t tell me there could be a misunderstanding. 

He referred to me as his home girl, while talking to his home boy…I guess. I can only imagine we all get that title. This friend of his, was an associate of mine before I knew him. He’s the man I was talking to when I met my guy back in So there’s this guy… So, if he doesn’t know that we are dating (that’s its own issue), he would at least know my name. 

Use my name. If in doubt, say my name. No title. No confusion. Just my name. 

Never refer to me as your home girl. Maybe this was because we just saw the Tupac movie. Maybe he’s all hyped up on the 90s. IDK. IDC. 

I sat there. Stunned. Looked at him, equal parts hurt and confused. He looked at me. He didn’t correct the bullshit. He asked me what he was supposed to say. 

If you don’t know. I don’t know. 

I stayed a little while. Hung around. Waiting for the air to be cleared. Nope. He made small talk. He called me over to him. I didn’t move from my seat across the room. He dozed off. Woke up. Came to me. Made more small talk. Finished off the dinner in my to-go container. I sat there perfectly still. Continued watching Hulu on my cellphone. 

The cell phone with the tempered glass screen he bought me when I scratched my screen and in the Mophie case he got because I was always complaining about my battery life. 

He never mentioned home girl. So I got up, got my stuff, and left. I have a bed at home that I can lay in knowing full well who I am. And, he let me leave. 

The next morning he called. He typically calls. He said good morning and asked if I was still mad. I’m not mad. I’m good. He asked if I was annoyed. Yep, I am. Disappointed, too. 

“Why? This isn’t a big deal.”

“Because, I AM NOT YOUR HOME GIRL!” I’m not signing up for that title. It’s bogus. It’s young and dismissive. I’m not young. I’m not going to be dismissed. Because, we should have a damn plan at this stage in life. You obviously don’t have a plan for us. So, let’s be friends.

And, I’ll go back to waiting for the man who has a plan. And, you can do whatever it was you were doing before I was your home girl

Cool. 

I’m not interested in making anymore useless investments. I’m not going to play relationship with someone who doesn’t see me that way. This is insane. 

Too. F’ing. Old. 

Side note: I did stuff for him, too. Spent money, time, and resources. I wrote this to show how I misconstrued the direction of the relationship based on his actions. I thought we were working on something. 

It’s just a kick in the teeth. Wondering what you refer to me as when I’m not there and the person doesn’t already know me. Can’t imagine I’d be proud. 

It’s so important that you know what you want and be able to communicate it. It’s not weak. It’s grown. And, it’s keeps people from wasting each other’s time and breaking hearts. 

Update: As my mother says, “Nothing beats an understanding.” And, we got one…I think. Turns out home girl wasn’t the direction he wanted to go in. Hashed it out. Maybe we’re beginning to get this communication thing. 

So there’s this guy…

There’s a new guy. He’s a big f’ing deal, too. 

So we met in a haphazard way. I was enjoying a late dinner and marg with a friend. Sitting in a bar booth at On the Border, and minding my own business. We were set to close the place, or get really close. This was our first opportunity to catch up in a minute, and we had a lot to cover. 

As the bar patrons thinned out, I heard this loud voice booming over all the left over conversations, blenders, and televisions. He was playing commentator to some sporting event, out talking his friends, and standing up at the bar. 

WTH?!

I told my friend a couple times how annoyed I was. He was too loud. He was too hype. He was too intoxicated. Someone should take his drunk ass home. And if he chauffeured himself, let me get home before you hit the road. Geez. 

When we got up to leave, we had to walk right past him. I put my head down, and decided to breeze past. I’d already had enough. 

But, one of his friend was a guy I was friendly with. I felt compelled to speak. Just a quick half hug and the highlights on life since we’d seen each other last. 

I made the mistake of commenting about his “drunk friend.” As an aware citizen trying to ensure this man wasn’t going to be out and about on the roadways. Something like, “you’re friend is drunk af.” I whispered it during our half hug. It went directly into his ear. I was trying to keep my concern secret. 

He announces, “he’s not drunk.” 

“What?!” I said in disbelief. 

“Nah.” 

“You sure?”

And, we called too much attention to ourselves. Now the topic of “we’re talking about you not to you,” was turned around staring directly at me. 

“She thinks you’re drunk.” The guy says. Who is she? You probably don’t even remember my name. So, you shouldn’t be outing me. Damn. Really?

“I’m not drunk. I haven’t even had one drink.”

“Oh…” I had more to say, but I was choking down the foot in my mouth. I mustered up something charming. Laughed the whole thing off. Engaged them both a little more. And, then got the hell away before I said anything else I’d have to apologize for. Apologizing isn’t my favorite. 

Spring forward…I guess I was just charming enough. 

The next time we saw each other, we were having date night dinner at Olive Garden. Then we saw each other every day for over a week. Then we cooked dinner together at his house. Then we watched excessive amounts of TV. Then we had more Olive Garden, talked about going to Cuba, he learned how I liked my coffee, and he even met my son. 

We even had a spat. The honeymoon is over. We’re living real shit. Some days it feels like it would be easier to cut and run, but I don’t want to miss the journey. I don’t want this to end. 

Funny thing, I’d just realized I was done with relationships. I wasn’t ready. The thought was too much. I just wanted to build me. I just wanted to figure out my life. I need to carve the path to success for me and my kid. 

I was good on my own. That’s the way it was

And, I told the people closest to me, I’m not interested in a relationship. I’m just gonna date and have fun until I meet the guy that makes me not want to date anyone else. 

Something about opening his pantry and seeing a stock of my favorite Powerades, the ones he hates, and a little jar holding all my Splenda packets, that makes me wonder if I’ve met the guy that makes me not want to date anyone else. 

Side note: Those are just a few of the things he does. I’m writing this while eating the lunch he packed me. He’s a good guy. 

Speak up, loud and clear. 

I recently started dating someone. It’s new, but it’s going well. He’s attentive and warm, encourages me, supports me, and we laugh A LOT. This is going really well. 

And, we’re nearing the exclusive stages. So, I needed to reach out to past gents and let them know I’m taking myself off the market to invest in this new venture. 

Wow. 

Just the other day, I was making declarations about being single. Enjoying my freedoms. Not looking or expecting anything more than a few dates, a few cocktails, and a few laughs. I was finally enjoying being a single girl. I was invested in me. I was focused. 

Then he came along. And, he’s screwed up everything.

I’m happy. 

So, I start the conversations. And, 2/3 confessed that they wanted more. They’d been thinking about more. They’d been considering more. They’d realized their feelings for me were stronger than they’d thought. The other one saw this coming. Wanted me to be happy. Wished me well. Promised we’d be friends. 

Okay then. 

If you knew you wanted me, why didn’t you speak up? What’s wrong with you? 

Wait…did you think I was gonna stand in this space forever? Did you believe our non-relationship was so strong it would last forever?

No. NO. NO!!!

I was open to the man who would change my plan. You didn’t. 

I’m okay with that. But, as a woman who cares about you, I’m telling you don’t let another woman pass you by. Live in the moment. Love honestly. Don’t be afraid. And, tell her. She might be the woman that changes your life.  

Speak up.