NaBloPoMo Day 3: Oh, If I Were Completely Honest...

I woke up one morning and knew that I loved him. It was an odd thought, so out of the blue. I wrestled with it for days on end....Months even. No No No! I said to myself. I can't I won't I won't. And yet I do.

I love the attentiveness. The contentedness. The way in which we chat and laugh and disagree. He is way more forgiving than I. He has way more tolerance than I. He is way more patient than I.

He makes me better. He inspires me to leap higher. To slow down when slowing down is needed. He's funny. He doesn't mind me being an occasional asshole. An occasional brat. He is not moved by my pettiness or smallness. He sees me and hears me and still applauds me.

He does not know that I think of him first. First, as in when I wake up. First, as in before I close my eyes. First, as in when some good thing happens or some sorrowful thing breaks me; it is him I want to call.  He has no idea the stirrings of my heart. He has no idea the depth of my feelings for his well being and happiness.

If I could be completely honest with no regrets, I would say, I love you, marry me. Let's live happily-ever-after!  Let's kiss and build dreams upon that kiss.

But I do not possess that kind of courage. That kind of courage escapes me in this situation. I am a woman of great courage in many areas of my life. You see, his friendship sustains me, fuels me, comforts me and prepares me for upcoming battles. There is no room for this kind of truth telling of my heart. As I am committed to walking in truth, this sacred ground cannot be disturbed. I am not a school girl harboring a school girl's crush. My friendships are holy. and I hold them in the highest regards. His friendship is everything sacred to me.

If I could be completely honest with no regrets, what I would say to him with no regret? In my dreams, I say, I love you with so much passion. I love you with so much fearlessness. I love you with so much admiration. I love you with so much heart and soul.

I tell him often, that I love him. That is the truth. There is no other truth. I love him. Everything else is of no consequence. But if I could be completely honest with no regrets, I'd propose with ring in hand... With a promise to live happily-ever-after... Marry me.

NaBloPoMo Day 2: Brave Is My Middle Name

I am a woman of size and girth. I am 5'8' barefooted, I weigh 273 lbs. I am a Queenly woman.
I was not a fat kid growing up, but I have become a fat woman. I am never troubled by this fact until I see my doctor, or someone remembers me from my modeling days, or someone wonders how someone so pretty carries weight so well. Whatever. I have heard every veiled insult.

I was feeling frumpy and a bit worn out and not anything remotely close to sexy or having sex appeal... So I decided to reclaim my own sense of self. A Boudoir shoot. Yes, a 5 hour photo session of my scantily clad self complete with a professional makeup. If I was going to be at the mercy of a photographer, I was going to do it with all the tricks and tools of the Super Models.

There is nothing braver than prancing around in lingerie in a body that is not celebrated in lingerie.

I arrived for my photo shoot with a arm load of lingerie of every sort. Baby doll, bustier, lace, peignoirs, chandelier earrings, feather mules, strappy 6 inch stilettos. I was determined to recapture my inner vixen. Sexy was the order of the day and I do believe I delivered!

My photographer was ready for me with a fruit tray and wine. As soon as I walked in for my 10:00 am appointment she handed me a glass of champagne, pumped up the music and was ready to go. My Makeup artist was instructed to go all out sex glam!  Long eyelashes, smokey eyes, pouty lips. I didn't recognize myself. It was a stunning transformation! I was over the moon delighted!

THERE IS NOTHING BRAVER THAN PRANCING AROUND IN LINGERIE IN A BODY THAT IS NOT CELEBRATED IN LINGERIE!

Am I glad I did it? YES! At 53 I needed that reminder that this old Gurl is without a doubt fuckable. That was the priceless realization. My inner caught up with my outer me.

NaBloPoMo Day 1: My Mental Health Tool Kit Break Glass In Case of Emergency

It has been a good long while since I did the annual NaBloPoMo in November! I'm back at it this year because I'm not doing NaNoWriMo... I finally completed it last year! So I don't feel a burning desire to churn out 50,000 words in 30 days! I do however like the discipline of a blog post every day for the month of November. So, this is day one and the first prompt is:
"When you're having a bad day with your mental health what do you do to help yourself?"

Over the years I have built myself a mental health survival tool kit. Things I've learned on my journey towards healing, wholeness and love. The tool kit is big and deep....I've been at this a very long time.

This blog is a direct result of trying to hold onto myself as I was going through storms! Writing out my pain, joys, growth, celebrations, sorrows, mundane shit. Writing/journaling has been the biggest tool in the tool kit.

Seeking help. I am not afraid to go and get the help I need to stay rooted and grounded on earth. I have given up the myth of be strong, go it alone. I have retired the "Strong Black Woman" tome for a much more realistic chant of I NEED HELP!

I have a hand picked tribe/squad/community/friends/sista-gurls who are all about my growth and uplift.

Sleep/Rest is prayer. When I am overextended it is because I am not rested. I make better decisions rested.

I eat well. I work to be mindful of not eating my pain away. I do not beat myself up if I do. I just start again.

I create art. I fancy myself an artist and I just set aside time to create stuff... Draw, paint, glue shit, sprinkle glitter.

I get outdoors. I take walks. I sit on my front steps.

I cry. I cry. I cry. Then I dry my eyes and fight back.

In case of emergency I know how to break the glass. I know how to get help. I know how to call someone. I notice when I am isolating. I notice when I am retreating too far away from my support.

I blog. It is immediate. It is me and the solitude of the mood.

I read. Sometimes fiction is needed. Sometimes spiritual books, devotionals. Sometimes a steamy love story. Sometimes a memoir is just the thing... Reading about someone Else's story of survival and triumph.

I am of the mindset, that I must do all that I can to secure my happiness, calm my mind and positively feed my spirit. I've seen some dark days... Some unspeakable. And yet here I am. Thriving or attempting to thrive daily.

I am Available.

Fall in Connecticut is  stunningly beautiful! The leaves are changing and falling. There is a crispness in the air, although at the moment it is quite warm. I am in my element...Tis the season of shedding the old and making room for the new.

I find myself saying with great confidence I AM AVAILABLE! I am available spiritually, physically, mentally. Come glad tidings come!

I have spent a great deal of time doing my inner work... Answering the big questions, seeking divine guidance and standing in my truth. I have walked the world a wounded healer. I have quit on life several times. I have gotten back in the race. I've had some wins, took some loses and still I pressed on.

I am a member of a tribe of folks who hold me sacred at every turn. I guard those friendships with my life. When I tell you I am available. I mean it. There is no better version of me than the one I am right now!

I have spent a great deal of time lamenting a love life or rather the lack of a lover in my life. I am very much surrounded by love, what I miss and want is a lover. I am available.

I have immersed myself in books to help the self. I have taken self-development courses here and there and everywhere. I have journaled, morning pages, a mountain of post-it notes filled with affirmations. I am whole. I am happy. I am alright. I am available.

It is time to say it and walk in it. I am available.

This is what I require... Show up as your best self. No preconceived notions of who you are. Have some faith in mankind. Respect my relationship with God. Know that I read for pleasure and knowledge.  Have some shit for yourself... friends, hobbies, you time. Be imaginative. Be honest. Be present. Be supportive. Be Soulful.

Talk to me as if your life depended on it. Be glad about who you are and where you're from. Be available.

I am available.

Frieda Kahlo To Marty McConnell

I subscribe to The Elephant Journal. I get their stuff emailed directly to me. It is some of the best "live a mindful life" ish out there. Yesterday's (9/30/16) treasure trove came with a poem crafted by Marty McConnell. The poem was inside of a post by Crystal Jackson "Take a Lover who looks at You like Maybe You are Magic". ~ (Not) Frieda Kahlo. In her post she discovered an often attributed quote to the fabulous Kahlo was not indeed hers. It was a line from a poem written by Marty McConnell.

As lover of fine poetry... this poem is sublime. So here it is. I hope they don't mind that I posted it here!

Frieda Kahlo To Marty McConnell
by Marty McConnell

Leaving is not hard enough; you must
stay gone. train your heart
like a dog, change the locks
even on the house he's never
visited. you lucky lucky girl
you have an apartment
just your size. a bathtub
full of tea. the heart the size
of Arizona, but not nearly
so arid. don't wish away
your cracked past, your
crooked toes, your problems
are papier mache puppets
you made or bought because the vendor
at the market was so compelling you just
had to have them. you had to have him.
and you did. and now you pull down
the bridge between your houses.
you make him call before
he visits. you take a lover
for granted, you take
a lover who looks at you
like maybe you are magic. make
the first bottle you consume
in this place a relic. place it
on whatever alter you fashion
with a knife and five cranberries.
don't lose too much weight
stupid girls are always trying
to disappear as revenge. and you
are not stupid. you loved a man
with more hands than a parade
of beggars, and here you stand. heart
like a four poster bed. heart like a canvas.
heart leaking something so strong
they can smell it in the street.

I Am Not Asking What Do I Want

October is coming. It is my New Year's resolution-making time. The time where I look down the road and think about where I want to be and what I want to be doing. I can feel the transitioning in my bones. My life will change yet again. My life is calling me to new ground. My life is calling me to new love, and to the healing of the oldest wounds.

The cool crisp mornings are whispering it is time.

I am not asking what do I want. The real question is what am I willing to do for the wants I already have? There are not new wants. I have the same wants that existed at the beginning of this blog. The same wants:

1. To know me better
2. To walk and stand in truth
3. To love with abandon
4. To be loved with equal aplomb
5. To continue to attract wholehearted loving people
6. To be good and kind and generous to my friends
7. To laugh more
8. To dance more
9. To make love more
10. To love who I am in this body
11. To be financially strong

These are the wants. These are the things that come and go in my life. I want consistency and long-term. I want eons of good fortune. I want endless days of laughter and dancing. Here comes October calling me to my annual sojourn of offering prayers for the journey ahead.

Photo: Karen King

Adulting: Showing Up For Love

In friendships, you have to be willing to go to your beloved and say you hurt me. And equally important if you've done the hurting, you gotta repair that shit. You gotta take your spit and glue and tape and bandaids, offering a balm. Love requires that and much more.

You hurt me is hard to say and hard to hear. Often folks can't bear it on either receiving end. If you are the one directing it to your beloved, then in your repair and healing of the situation, you have to resist the urge to say that's not what I intended, or meant. Or that I didn't think it was offensive or hurtful. If you are the one saying how you are hurt by what was said or done, then you have to be clear and honest as you can be in those moments.

Hurt words can be healed, providing you are prepared to walk in truth. Let me tell you what hurt and why. We hurt each other in small almost unnoticeable ways. We hurt each other in grand sweeping ways. We hurt each other. The mark of love calls us to repair, tend to and heal the wrong done, real or imagined.

Not telling someone how you really feel about them is not walking in truth, And brushing off things only stores them in a powder keg. Someday it will go BOOM! So rather than wait for the explosion, speak your peace.  I value those I hold dear as friends. I want them to know that hurtful words in and of themselves will not break our friendship. Misunderstandings cannot be left to fester because we are afraid that we can't get to higher ground... common ground. I promise to make myself available to listen without judgment. I may need time to process what you say, but I will not up and abandon the friendship. I pride myself on being a reasonable, deeply thinking woman.

At this place in my life, I am tending some of the most beautiful relationships I've ever had. All the people in my universe are treasures. Each one of them makes me a better woman. The fact that they make room in their lives for me and my shit is breathtaking. I come with complications and unimaginable wounds that run deep and long. Yet somehow their hearts welcome me and I am safe and cared for.

Showing up vulnerable is where I want to exist from. I want to be wide open. That comes with risks. I am willing to take the risks.