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. 

I don’t like anyone. 

I don’t think I genuinely like the new guy. I don’t think that my feelings match his. I’m not ready. I’m not really into this. I said I wanted more than I actually want. Don’t be mad. 

I’m totally disappointed in the old guy. He hurt me for sport. 

I’m ready for commitment, but I’m not great at it. 

Obviously. 

When I try, I get shit on. When I don’t try, I shit on someone else. 

It’s a no win situation. 

I slept on this post. Tried to figure out how to own all the emotion that goes with it. 

Here goes, and it’s the best I’ve got. 

Nothing hurts me worse than trying and failing. It’s devastating. Especially in relationships. Especially. In. Relationships. 

I’m typically so absent from my feelings. I’m rational and logical. I don’t lead with emotion. It’s not my thing. I’ve built emotional walls all around me like a fortress…none come in and none go out. It’s defensive, and it usually works. But sometimes, I slip up. And, I try. And, I love someone. And when I love someone, I’m all in. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for that person. And, I’m forgiving. And, I’m understanding. I try incredibly hard to make things work. I want the best for them. I want to be the best to them. Their happiness is important to me. 

I try not to sacrifice myself for them, but I typically do. I bend for them. I work towards our success. I work towards our future. 

I love them the best way I know how. 

So when that’s manipulated, disregarded, or trashed, it’s hard. 

It probably took me a lot to get there in the first place. It probably required a lot of prayer and soul searching for me to love them. I probably had to make sacrifices. I probably second guessed that love. I probably did a million behind the scenes things to get myself to a point that I could express that love. 

And, it didn’t work. 

And, I don’t know what to do. Because, I wouldn’t have driven all this way to be disappointed. 

I don’t know if I can do it again. The silence is peaceful and alone isn’t always lonely. 

I don’t want to like anyone that’s not guaranteed. 

“No mom, I’m still single.”

My mom casually offered her concerned opinion over my single status. Right after I commented on the success of a family members relationship, she mentioned how much she wanted me to find someone. Huh? Is this really happening? Et tu? 

I’m a-okay. Don’t be concerned. I’m alone, but not lonely. I’m busy, and I don’t know if I have the time to devote to a romantic relationship. Plus, I’m still loving the last guy. He loves me, too. But, we are hella flawed. 

Don’t get me wrong, I want love, romance, commitment, and all the blah blah blah. I want white, no ivory, weddings, picket fences, and rocking chairs. Seriously, I do. But, I can’t focus all my attention on that. I’d go crazy. Instead, I need to build my empire, raise my son, and find and maintain my happiness.

Eventually, everything else will fall into place. 

I went off the grid.

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I’m not easily overwhelmed. I can usually handle anything that comes my way. I can typically roll with the punches. Might be shook, but seldom do I fall. It’s just the way I’m wired. Thank my parents for resilience.

But, this love, or something like it, stuff is too much. My relationship recently hit a brick wall. Hard. I didn’t even see it coming. Didn’t realize what happened until it happened. Still reeling. Trying to pick up the pieces of chaos and make sense of it. Easier said than done, my friends. Much easier.

Found myself becoming one of those girls I preach against. Questioning everything. Looking for my own faults. Second guessing every word I’ve ever said. Desperate. Miserable. Aching. Wondering what happened. And, why.

It just happened. He holds answers he’s not willing to tell. Life just changes sometimes. Things don’t always work themselves out.

Reading back over the many posts hinting at him, this was inevitable. He hasn’t done anything to convince me we were real. He just didn’t want to do this anymore. Ouch. Damn. Sucks. Life.

So, I had to step back. Dial down my insanity. Stop the calls. Stop the texts. Stop FB. Turn everything way down for a minute. Needed a break to figure it out. Piece together the chaos.

3 days. Maybe 5 days. But that’s it. The demise is 6 days out. How many more days do I need? Don’t know, but I’m only allowing myself a handful more before I just start faking it.

So FB is closed. Twitter is up and running. We have no Twitter connections. I’ll blog. I’ll tweet, and I’ll do Instagram. But, for him and FB I’m closed until further notice.

Dueces.