My old self....

When I moved to GA in my late 20s, I was fresh outta my momma's house and I have never been on my own. I was moving in with my best friend and trying to settle into my new life. I had big dreams about my new life in Georgia. I dreamed of  pursuing my dream of being a court reporter, working in a great agency, seeing the sights, meeting a wonderful man, getting married, having another kid and living happily ever after.. Whew! What's that saying? Tell God your plans and watch him laugh? Little did I know how much of a sense of humor He has....

The only problem with dreams are reality. In reality, I was torn between my old self and my new self. The old me was full of anger and disappointment. My previous relationship had left me dejected, defeated, abused and with low self esteem. My new self was full of hope. My new self was ready to explore her surroundings.. Make new friends. Find the hot spots. Get settled into my new life but my old self rebelled...My old self wanted (and did...for a while) to stay in the house, cry, be homesick, miss my ex, call my mother, call my daughter and be miserable... See, I left everything back home. Everything that meant the most to me. Everything that was near and dear to my heart....but more importantly, I left my child.

Today, my daughter is a beautiful woman. At the time I left home, she was 10 years old. She was a bright eyed, dimpled chin, smiling child. She was so happy. Always smiling. She was very loving and my one and only baby. I left her thinking I was doing a good thing (sorta). I left her because I needed a break. I needed to get me together. I was so fucking miserable. My heart was broken. I left her thinking she didn't need to see her mother broken. I left her with her father, who I knew wasn't the greatest father in the world, but my mind was clouded and my judgment so off that I left her anyway.

I didn't realize the impact of my leaving her behind. I didn't realize how many sleepless nights I would endure or that she would endure during my abasence. I didn't realize that the better decision would have been for her to come with me to see her mother go from a spineless little girl to a strong, independent woman. I didn't realize that because I was so broken that she, too, was broken. I didn't know how to save her or me, for that matter. I didn't realize that just having her with me would have been enough. I didn't realize that even though I called every day and helped with homework over the phone or went home for every single birthday or brought her to Georgia for every single break, that she was hurting. I remember a particular time, she came to visit and it was time for her to leave but she cried and whined the whole time she was with me.  I was so frustrated with her by the time we drove to the airport, I damn near threw her on the plane. I made a habit of not watching her plane take off because from experience, I would leave the airport crying hysterically so I would put her on the plane and walk away. Now had I been in my "right" mind, I would have known that my absence was the cause of all the tears: hers and mine. But like the self absorbed person I was, it had to be her and not me. I was just crying because she was leaving and I wouldn't see her for a while. I never looked too deeply into it.. I couldn't.. not just yet.

Stranger Danger...

Growing up, you were taught to be weary of strangers. You were taught not to take candy from them or to talk to them. Don't get in anyone's car who you don't know and if you see someone unfamiliar to keep walking. What happens when that stranger is someone you know. Someone familiar to you? Someone you would trust with your life... Someone you live with? Someone who you swore would take care of you, provide for you....love you? What do you do then? What if you're a child and it's a parent? A wife and it's your husband? A girlfriend and it's your boyfriend? Is it still stranger danger?

Last week, I received a phone call about a friend of mine. He has been charged with murder. I was stunned. I still am. When I pulled the article up in the paper, I just stared at the mugshot. I couldn't believe nor fathom the fact the that he could have done something as heinous as he is charged. I do know that you never really know someone or that you could never really know what they're thinking or capable of doing, but murder. How could this be? Not too long ago, we were online chatting it up.. laughing and talking. Murder, though? Really? His mugshot looked like him but it wasn't him. You feel me? I read the name. I looked at the picture. I read the name. I looked at the picture. I read the article, looked at the picture, read the name. Murder? In my mind, it takes a mean, nasty, crazy individual to kill, rape, rob, maim or harm another human being. You have to have a black heart, no soul and be raised by the devil. You don't have any feelings, emotions or reasoning capabilities... There's nothing to work with, compromise with, rationalize with, feel, go back and forth with....nothing... Just a shell of a person who is pretending to be a person.

He hasn't been to trial and yet I sit here condemning him. I'm trying not to judge but murder. That's the "legal" term for killing. The definition for murder is:

1. crime of killing somebody: the crime of killing another person deliberately and not in self-defense or with any other extenuating circumstance recognized by law
2. something difficult or unpleasant: something that is very difficult or unpleasant and involves great effort or hardship
3. kill somebody illegally: to kill another person deliberately and not in self-defense or with any other extenuating circumstance recognized by law. http://www.bing.com/Dictionary/

That is such a harsh word... "He was murdered." "She was raped and murdered." The thoughts that word conjures up in my mind and I have a very active imagination. The word, to me, is scary. What does one do when they are killing someone? Do they set out that morning and know they are going to kill? Do they willingly and determinedly set out to murder someone? I know that some do..and I know that some are by happenstance and I pray that this is by happenstance. I pray that he snapped and was outside of himself when he committed the crime. I can't believe in my heart that he set out that fateful night to murder the individual intentionally. I pray that he lost it for a split second and then snapped back and felt instant remorse...not that that can bring the person back....ever.

I'm torn. On one hand, I want to mourn the person and on the other hand, I want to mourn my friend, although, he is not dead... When I stared at the mugshot, I didn't say monster or animal but the crime fits those names... I didn't scream, how could you do that (even though I should have) like I would normally when I hear of these crimes. I did, however, weep. I cried for the person, the crime and my friend. I cried because there's another black male in the system. Another black man who has taken a life and another black man lost. We just elected a black president a second time in this country and yet we still have black men killing each other.

God help us all.

JerseyLove

When I moved to Georgia in 2000, I was hurting. I just came off a five year relationship where I gave my everything. I never took the time to get me together. I found myself in multiple "friendships". One of which was a man from NJ who had a live in girlfriend. His name was Chris. He was tall. 6'2. Light brown. Bald head. Goatee. Dimples. Athletic and he represented home. Common-esque. He was a breath of fresh air. He was fitted caps and wheat colored timberlands.. Cool browns, beiges and blues... He was real hip hop. He was home. I loved his talk. His walk. His swag (for a lack of a better word). I loved how he called me Queen and treated me as such. (Funny, since he had a "queen" at home) I loved how he took care of me and made sure I was okay. I loved that he would come by my place or call me just to check on me. I loved how he took care of me even when I didn't need it... I also, loved him. I wasn't suppposed to fall for him but I did.. How could I not? In my mind, he represented peace, tranquility and security...while he was with me. I never thought about his woman at home...while he was with me. I never thought about his kid at home....while he was with me. I never thought about her wondering where he was when he was with me... that didn't matter...while he was with me. I only wondered about those things in the middle of the night when I was alone. I wondered about those things on my drive to and from work. I would even look for his truck, a black Expedition. I joined the gym he went to just so I could "bump" into him.. I never did. I "found out" where he worked and would sit outside his job... I would call him on his job.. I started to make it difficult for him and me. I became obsessed. I found his address online. I found his home number. Called once and she answered. I hung up. I never went to his house but always wanted to. I never went Glenn Close or anything like that.. Somewhere in my mind, I KNEW I wasn't THAT crazy! I just wanted to be with him at any cost or at all costs... Simply, becuz he reminded me of home... or what home represented for me. That relationship lasted almost a year and it was hard for me to let go. I did eventually but still wonder how he is doing. I know he has since moved out of state and is now married to the live in girlfriend. I also knew that I would never be the other woman again...or so I thought.

I am...

I was watching Joel Osteen last night on Oprah's lifeclass. He said, whatever follows "I am" will come looking for you... There are so many negative "I am's" that I say to myself on a regular basis. I wonder why it is so much easier to believe the negatives than the positives. I am 42 years old. I am a mother, a daughter, a sister, a cousin, a friend, a lover, a co-worker, a native New Jerseyian, a libra and the list goes on and on... When I look at that list, I wonder in what area could I have done better? Could I have been a better mother? Of course. A better daughter? Sister? Cousin? Worker? The answer is of course. A resounding Yes! But what IS exactly better? A better listener? More compassionate? More attentive? Less selfish? More people oriented, friendly? I am but who I am... me.

One of my favorite poems:

I am enough, just as I am.
unfinished,
imperfect,
uncertain of the road I choose
yet, certain that I must continue.

I am enough for some
and too much for others.
I struggle with myself.
I wrestle with fear.
I avoid the parts of me
that are dark and unavoidable.

Yet, I want to hide no more.
I am alive.
I know because I feel.
In my eyes,
I am damaged,
hurting,
healing,
in need of improvement.

BUT in the eyes of God
and in the place where grace abides,
I know I am enough.

Author unknown

ThisBook

ThisBook is an amazing tool. It will show you what and who you're missing out on. It will show you ex loves (if you have not de-friended them), ex friends (if you're not de-friended), activities that you have zero interest in or long to do; and it will show you exactly how empty your life is or how fulfilled everyone else's life "appears" to be...ThisBook is an illusion of sorts. A magic trick. You are David Muthaphucking Copperfield. By a click of the mouse, you can make people disappear, your thoughts matter and people. who you have never met (and probably will never meet), interested in you...by simply posting a picture, copy a picture or cropping a picture. It allows you to be who you want to be..project who you think you are and be as bold and as confident as you wish you were in reality....