Going It Alone versus Coupling

As you know, 2018 produced some big changes in my life; well, one noteworthy update at least! With public knowledge of my nuptials came congratulatory comments from friends, a few very surprised gasps from acquaintances, as well as some eventual hateful rhetoric from an ex-lover.

"Even in 2018, a woman who isn't married by a certain age or who has chosen not to have children...is still an object of some curiosity. Even today, the assumption isn't necessarily that she made a choice; often, it's that she was somehow left behind....But the dirty little secret...it's kind of awesome." -Stephanie Zacharek

For the record, though getting married wasn't something I needed in my life to feel complete, I absolutely do not recall ever having stated I was never getting married. But, he's an ex for a reason, and as I look toward a new year, I (and only I) get to choose whom I keep in my life and whom I don't.

Fare Thee Well by Marcus Mumford & Oscar Isaac

On Tolerance

This is a repost from an excerpt that appeared in Time last year. I felt it was even more relevant this year and as we look toward a new year, perhaps we can all try to better understand the plight of the oppressed and how we either contribute to or help alleviate their circumstances.

We often hear about how we need to be more tolerant: to make room for people, ideas and actions with which we may not agree. This is a prerequisite for a functional democracy. But tolerance alone is not sufficient; it allows us to accept others without engaging with them, to feel smug and self-satisfied without challenging the boundaries within which too many of us live. A society worthy of our ideals would be a much more inclusive one, a more integrated one. Our first national motto was e pluribus unum, "out of many, one." Under this framework, building tolerance is a worthy way station to a much grander destination of inclusion. This is a journey that is in our power as a nation to make.

I worry that for all of the progress we have made, we are stuick int he purgatory of tolerance - on race, on LGBTQ rights, on women's equality. We have of late seen evidence of a great racial divide that remains and in some ways even appears to be expanding. While tragedies like the high-profile shootings of African Americans at the hands of law enforcement get a lot of deserved attention, these are symptoms of a much deeper problem. We are still largely segregated as a society, and our political divisions increasingly fall along the lines of race. Inclusion, not assimilation, should be the key concept in seeking, ever seeking, a more perfect national union."

-Dan Rather

Joy

Joy. It's such a simple word, yet so many work their entire lives to achieve even a glimpse of pure and unadulterated joy. As I creep ever closer to another decade of my life, I can honestly say that I'm happier now than I was 10 or even 20 years ago. Loving yourself - your strengths and weaknesses, your successes and failures, and your decisions and "better choices" are all a part of the joy journey. In this holiday season, don't let someone steal your joy. Let him/her go. Spend your energy on people who bring joy to your life, not rob you of it. You're old enough to get to decide who you spend your time with.

Stoking the Embers

A campfire can lie dormant for hours, even days, until something comes along and prods it just enough to stoke the waning embers. I think that's how the phrase "rekindling an old flame" was born.

It's unbelievably unsettling how a simple text, phone call, or facebook message can evoke feelings that have lain dormant for years. The long forgotten passion flares up with an eager vengeance, capitalizing on lost time and overtaking any semblance of common sense. The flame is all-consuming; the intensity of the heat scorching. So how do you keep from getting burned?

And is there a more appropriate song for that very feeling than Set the Fire to the Third Bar by Snow Patrol?

Adventure #51: Matrimony

When I began this blog SEVEN years ago, I had no idea what my future held. No one ever does (and isn't that just the greatest thing?!). I simply wanted a creative outlet to relay my ideas, thoughts, and (most importantly) adventures as a single woman in her 30's trying to live her best life.

Well, one of the biggest adventures of my life occurred recently, and I wanted to let you all in on my secret. Sh!

I got married.

Inferiority

Wednesday, November 9, 2016 was one of the hardest days of my life as a citizen of this country. The past 24 hours has felt much the same.

We have hundreds of thousands of women in this country who have been sexually harassed, assaulted, and raped. Yet, we also have hundreds of thousands of women in this country who support Kavanaugh's nomination. Many of these women sit in congregations every Sunday where they're told to be subservient to their husbands, fathers, and sons. If you have a vagina, you're outlawed from holding positions of leadership in these churches.

These women support a man every DAY over another woman because that's precisely what they've been taught their entire lives. They could never believe a woman's truth over a man's. To some, Dr. Ford even deserved what happened to her.

Why did she wait so long? If I were in her shoes, why would I want to relive such a horrific moment in my life? Well, I can tell you...if a man who had sexually assaulted me in the past were up for one of the MOST influential, prestigious, and important jobs in this country, that's the FIRST day I would go public with my nightmare too. 

If appointed, every single thing Kavanaugh does every single day has the power to impact my life, your life, our lives. It's taken a lot of players to create this circus, but at the center is a woman who is inferior to NO one (certainly not a man).

Pancakes

I love pancakes. I've always loved pancakes, and particularly, I love my mama's pancakes. For some strange reason, I recall a childhood school assignment where we had to explain in an essay what our last meal would be (as if we were on death row or something - I'm really hoping that I'm mis-remembering this project!) Anywho, I wrote about pancakes. I could eat them morning, noon, and night. I'm sure everyone else wrote about steaks or lobster, but I chose pancakes.

The last time I saw my first love was when he dropped me off at my house one morning. I really wanted him to come in and say hi to my mom. I wish more than anything that he'd taken me up on my offer of mama's pancakes. Then I'd at least have had a few more precious minutes with him.

Over by Johnnyswim

Adventure #50: Hot Air Balloon Ride

It's been a loooong time since my last adventure post, but it's time for installment #50: a bucket list item. While on a 5-day vacation, Lizard and I splurged on a sunrise hot air balloon ride. The day was perfectly clear with only the slightest wind, and the views were breathtaking. An unforgettable experience.

Whore

Things are very "stormy" in the country at the moment, and I'm not talking about the weather.

In following the Stormy Daniels case, I recently read an article where she stated, "If you're a woman, you'll be called a whore one day." To your average reader, this inflammatory comment might seem insensitive at best, but to yours truly, I was aroused (pun intended) simply because of the immense truth it holds.

That fateful day came for me many years ago, and conveniently perhaps, at the hands of one of my dearest friends. In his mind, my salacious adventures to date had been explanatory simply because they involved men of a certain ethnicity. Traversing that racial barrier, however, was unfathomable and unforgivable.

This blog has certainly served as a memoir of my journeys, near and far alike, but that day was a turning point for both of our lives; one from which there was no going back. I was now a whore.

Mercurial

I've always liked the word "mercurial," because though it's sometimes (only sometimes) an apt description of my disposition, it doesn't have the heaviness of similar constructs, such as volatile or temperamental. Instead, mercurial invokes curiosity, mystery. And who doesn't like a little mystery in their day?

Perfection

I don't know about you, but I strive for perfection. In my head, I know that I'm not perfect, nor could I ever be. Yet, I am intensely disappointed with myself when I'm not.

Lizard says, "The human body is perfect, but humans are not." Otherwise, we wouldn't be humans; we would be gods.

The Dash

It's been almost 6 months since my last post, and all I can think is that I've been living The Dash. "He referred to the dates on the tombstone...but he said what mattered most of all was the dash between those years."

In November, I was involved in an automobile accident, and to tell you the truth, it set me back a few notches. Not so much physically, thankfully, but emotionally, I've been a wreck (pun intended). In some ways, I feel like the fog is finally lifting. I'm able to drive at night again. I'm less anxious when I get behind the steering wheel. I don't constantly think about "it." Yet, over the weekend someone pulled out right in front of me, causing me to slam on the brakes to the point of locking up, and I was completely frozen. Absolutely petrified. PTSD is real, in case you ever had any doubt.

But I'm still trying to live my life, my dash. And I'm sorry I've been absent. I will try to include you more in my dash.