Saturday, April 14, 2012

AWAKE!


Here's the thing: After my first love crushed my heart at age 18, I gave up on the actuality of a wholesome relationship. I dated men for months at a time, never past 3 or 4 months. Until I met my ex, the only one I dated for almost 2 years. And you know what, when that fairytale became an unending, Sundance movie-esque, horrific lie, I broke. I couldn't reconcile how something that went along the right pathway could turn out to be so duplicitous, so heartbreaking, so untrue. My experience in love became tabula rasa in the sense that I couldn't find the formula for how to make it work. I began thinking that a formula didn't exist.

 I spent almost 3 years wrapped up in my own numbness. Then Grandma died. And I decided that I needed to live.

But somehow, between being lied to by the ex, abandoned by an oblivious liar and just not knowing how to make it work, I have consistently been involving myself in the activity of flogging dead horses.......and dragging stubborn mules to wells. And you know what? I am to blame. I was so hurt and confused because the winning formula exploded in my face that I completely just said hey, it will never end right so who cares. I stopped having a standard. It was as if, my Id took over.

But I realized something. Especially from that Easter post I did , which I am dying to delete and I will. It is this: even if the winning formula didn't work
once, it is my responsibility in my job of caring for myself, to believe that I deserve the best treatment. If a horrible person manipulated me before, it doesn't mean that I can't get past that and find someone who won't do the same, who will actually love me. I've lived feeling for a while, that I don't deserve happiness, respect and good treatment. All that has descended on me as a result, are men who basically are glad to not have to pull their weight and care for me.

Can you care for someone who does not care for herself? No.

So, here's the thing, and this goes for a lot of women all over, Jamaican women, women who read my blog: Listen to me, don't buy into this crap of sharing your man. Ok? Don't. Secondly, if you bb, text or call and he doesn't answer and makes it a habit, it means one thing only: he doesn't want to talk to you. Do you really want to talk to someone who doesn't want to talk to you? Thirdly: if he doesn't hug and kiss, but likes to insert his penis into your vagina, he is not supposed to be anywhere near you. Fourthly: if you choose an asshole to have your children with, your son will choose a bitch and your daughter will also choose an asshole.

Look, just don't buy into these incorrect, self esteem lowering and life destroying world ideals about men, women, love and relationships. All these sentiments about men who should not be held accountable for several things: not talking about how they feel - instead only acting out to apologize later, men separating wives from concubines and in the process infecting both groups with sexually transmitted diseases, men using honesty to enslave your mind: I have a wife but I want you (!).

No one wants to be lonely, nobody wants to cry sing Christina and Ricky. I don't want to be alone, I don't like it. I think about my advancing age. But this is it....how much more abuse should I indirectly inflict on my spirit? I'm awake. I won't be in this wheel anymore, running forever like that microcephalic hamster.

It's time for me to take myself seriously and forget about all those bad feelings of worthlessness that I tucked under my arm and carried away after saying tearful goodbyes to unworthy men. I am going to start loving myself. Yes. I am going to start loving myself. If you saw a dead dog on the road, would you stop the car and bury it?

Women, listen. If you had a few bad experiences and question the point of hoping for love that you deserve, it is time to realize something; rolling around in the mud like a squealing pig....makes you a pig. Stop. Come back to yourself. You're bigger than that. You deserve good love. You deserve good love. You deserve good love.

No comments: