"Sensitive" People...of Color

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Crybaby. Punk. Soft. Weak. These are but a few of the names that I have been called in my lifetime because I was a sensitive person. I still am a sensitive person. Growing up in the African American community was difficult for a little girl like me. I was never told to "man up" like I suspect many sensitive little boys are, but certain respected members of my family have said that I have "soft" feelings and "God, what's wrong with you now?" Labeling you as a person with soft feelings is a polite way of saying you're weak. It's a way to gaslight you into believing that people should be able to say whatever mean, nasty thing they want to you, and you should endure it with a straight face and even laughter. They're just kidding, after all, and you should learn how to take a joke.

I was an awkward little kid. I never quite fit in with my classmates, the neighborhood kids, or even my family members. I didn't know why. I thought my uniqueness was something of which I should be ashamed. I was bullied and abused because I just wasn't the same as everyone else.  I tried so hard to fit in. I tried so hard in fact, that I began to hide that sensitivity from not only the world, but also from myself. I built a massive wall to protect me from the teasing, the name-calling, and the physical attacks. I developed a thick skin. That's what normal people do, I told myself. People will eat you alive if you show vulnerability. And black people? Forget about it. I might as well walk up to someone and ask them to kick my ass.

People of color, and of course I can only speak from my own experience as a black woman, have had to be strong for so long that any display of vulnerability is seen as weakness. We're not allowed to be sensitive. We're not allowed to be weak. Weakness, or even the appearance of weakness, is a disgrace to people of color. I cut myself so far off from my feelings and emotions, that it got to the point where I no longer knew how to show emotions. Sure, if someone died, I would cry. That was pretty much it, though. I got married, had babies, enjoyed beautiful experiences... and barely shed a tear.

Even though I built the protective wall, I could still feel so much. I felt deeply. Everything around me seemed to have its own energy, its own life (of course, I now know that everything does have its own energy). I could be having a wonderful day, then I'd walk into a room and be overwhelmed by all the feelings in that room. It would instantly change my mood because, at the time, I didn't know how to block and/or channel that energy into something positive. I didn't even know what that was; I had no name for it. Friends and family would call me 'moody,' and not knowing what to call it myself, I accepted that I was a moody person.

Every now and then, the pent up, denied energy would overwhelm me to the point of explosion. I would cry and not know why. I would be enraged and not understand what had happened to bring me to that point. When it was over, I would start the cycle all over again. The vicious, counter-productive cycle.

Then I met a woman, a white woman, who told me about what it means to be an empath. Her race is relevant because I could not, would not have sought out information like that from my own community for fear of being snubbed and looked down upon. I felt a tremendous weight lifted off of my shoulders. Empath. I finally had a name for the ability to feel other people's feelings like they were my own. Empath.

In the years since meeting that wonderful woman, I've become better at recognizing my feelings, differentiating between my own feelings and someone else's, and communicating my feelings with others. I'm not afraid to show my softer side. I no longer feel the need to be "hard."

There are some ways in which I've learned to honor and protect myself as an empath and I'd like to share them with you in the hopes that some struggling empath will benefit from them.

1. Spend some time alone. There are times when it's overwhelming to deal with both my own emotions and those of others. Spending some time with just yourself will give you a break from the many energies you encounter within a day's time. You might be surprised at how rejuvenating solitude can be.

2. Set boundaries. When you are spending time with yourself, make sure you set clear and firm boundaries that that time cannot be interrupted by anything short of a true emergency. You honor and respect yourself when you honor and respect your boundaries. And when you honor and respect your boundaries, others will, too.

3. Meditate. Meditating is not as daunting a task as you might think. Simply take some time to breathe, relax, and bring yourself back to the present moment. Sometimes, more often than not, I let my mind wonder. Problems seems to work themselves out that way. But if letting your mind wonder just stresses you out more, focus on bringing yourself back to the present moment each time you find yourself thinking of anything else. And breathe. Deep, slow, long, cleansing breaths. It might also help to play soft, relaxing music in the background.

4. Tune out. I no longer watch the news on television. It's so mired in negativity and hostility that I feel attacked when I watch it. When I feel attacked, my body reacts as if it's being attacked. When you're stressed, your body releases a myriad of chemicals and hormones to defend itself. Those hormones serve a purpose and are beneficial in the moment (if you're actually being attacked), but if you're in a constant state of "fight or flight," those substances stay in your body. That's not good. I know that you probably like to know what's going on in the world, and that's fine. Everything in moderation. You don't have to tune out completely, just be mindful of how much chaos you allow into your psyche.

5. Spend time with positive people. This is sometimes easier said than done. Chances are, you work with or know someone who is an energy vampire. Energy vampires suck all the positive energy out of you and drain you dry. When they leave the room, you feel like all of your energy has left with them; you're exhausted. Some of these vampires might even be in your family. Well, you may be obligated to work with them or to perform family duties with them, but your free time? That's all yours. You get to spend that with whomever you want. Make good choices about the company you keep.

These are a few simple things that help me navigate this big, wide world of emotions, and I hope you will find them helpful in your life. It's entirely possible to be protective of yourself and yet remain open to possibilities and experiences. It's all about balance.

Are you an empath? How do you honor and protect yourself? What challenges have you faced being an empath of color? Share in the comments. Let's get the dialogue started so that empaths no longer have to feel alone.

Until next time,

Feed on love, subsist on peace.

***Author's note: If you are someone who suffers from bipolar disorder or any other mental illness, this article is not for you. Please seek the help of a licensed psychotherapist and/or psychiatrist. In the Baltimore area, you can click here for resources.

***Author's second note: This post was inspired by a wonderful woman who did a video about being a black empath. Her video spoke to my very soul and I wanted to link her to this post, but of course, I wanted to get her permission first. It's such a humbling and beautiful experience to find like-minded souls in this world. Please visit Ifasina TaMeicka Clear and show her some love.

Breaking the Pattern

Good day, friends.

It's been awhile since we've spoken. Some of you have, no doubt, moved on to bigger and better things. Congratulations! You absolutely deserve it. Me? Well, I've been doing the same things I'd spoken to you about before I last left you. I'm one course and a dissertation away from getting my doctoral degree in Metaphysical Humanistic Science. That means I'm one step closer to what I believe is my true purpose in this lifetime.

I didn't come here to talk about me, though. Well, not just me.

Today, I found myself in a funk. Something happened in my life that upset me so much that I wanted to revert to some old habits. One of my go-to old habits was emotional eating. The pattern was: let someone upset me > completely disregard any progress I've made > eat everything in sight. I would tell myself, in that moment, that I didn't care whether I got fat or not. Who cares that I feel better when I eat better? Who cares that I don't have bouts of IBS when I don't eat meat? (TMI, I know) Who cares? There I was: all prepared to eat healthy snacks and a healthy lunch, but in that moment, all I wanted... was cake. Or pie. Or Doritos. Or, God help me, McDonald's fries.

If I followed the old pattern, I would be upset in the moment, I would eat everything and then afterward, the next moment, I would feel horrible. In the next moment I would care, but by then, it was too late. On top of being upset by whatever  had triggered my binge-eating, I would then also be upset with myself for the binge-eating I'd done. My self-esteem would dip really low; and the cycle would continue.

Not today, though. Today, I saw that old, ugly pattern breaking through the surface and I recognized it for what it was. I asked myself, why am I letting someone else control how I feel about myself? If you think about it, that's exactly what was happening. I allowed someone to upset me (that was my first mistake), I then internalized that pain as something that I deserved to feel, then I turned that pain against myself, which would have manifested as an eating binge. Sure, I know that people can take you to horrible, emotional places. I recognize that we are human, and we will sometimes not be in a place to handle emotional warfare. I get it. But I also get that once you let someone anger or upset you, you have handed over your power to them. You're essentially saying, "Here, you control me for a little while."

Now, everyone who's read this blog even once, probably knows that I have control issues. Trust me, I'm working on it, but it's an on-going process as you well know. The fact that I have issues giving others control is the very thing that should stop me from handing control of my emotions to anyone, especially people who have no impact on my existence.

So, I came here today to ask you, to implore you to take your power back. Ask yourself if you're letting others control how you feel about you. It's called self- esteem for a reason. The only person impacting it should be you. When someone upsets you, when you're experiencing emotional difficulty, acknowledge your feelings in this moment, then do what you need to do to get to the next moment. And once you get to the next moment, do something to nurture yourself so that you maintain your progress, your sanity, your self-love. What you do in that next moment could change the course of your life. Or it could keep you stagnant in old habits that you wished you'd given up a long time ago.

What did I do? I reached into the fridge for my carrot sticks and hummus. And I didn't hate myself afterward.

Until next time,

Feed on love, subsist on peace.

Happy New Year.

Perfect

If you follow me on Twitter or if you're one of my Facebook friends, you know how much I love this song. I've included the clean version here because some followers of this blog may or may not be offended by the uncut version. Both of my personalities like this clean version, but on the other hand, we both feel the uncut version.

I was watching a Tivo'd episode of Oprah recently and she said something that I have always said to people, but just not as eloquently as she. She said that we "teach what we most need to learn." My sister and I have conversations to that effect all the time. I do it all the time right here on this blog. It's easy for me to tell you what to do to feel good about yourselves. It's easy to drill into your heads that your are perfect just the way you are. It's easy because I know, logically, how this thing called life is supposed to be done. What's not easy is doing it. The phrase "easier said than done" applies here.

You know how sometimes when you're talking to your friend about a problem she may have and the solution seems so obvious to you that you can't understand why she can't see it herself? I mean, it's right there in front of her face. Why can't she see it? She sees it. However, it's far less painful to pretend she has no clue than it is to resolve the issue. I don't know about you, but I do that all the time.

Here's the thing: I know me. I'm aware of all my issues. One of the things I know is that my cursing so much is a defense mechanism. It says to people, "That is the wrong woman to mess with. Don't try to take advantage of her or otherwise get on her bad side because things will not go well for you." I know that I developed this defense mechanism as a result of not feeling protected as a child. I had so many horrible things happen to me and I would wonder why no one would come to my defense. No one brought food to my siblings and me when our mother disappeared for days at a time. No one objected when she sold me to a man for drug money. No one stopped the man in the stairwell from trying to rape me when I was six-years-old; I stopped him myself. I kicked and scratched...and I screamed curse words at him...until he let me up off the concrete floor. I knew what he wanted to do to me and I was damned sick of being a victim. At six. That's when I learned that cursing can make people leave you alone. Kicking and scratching don't hurt, either.

I didn't know why my mother didn't love me and the only reason I could think of why God didn't love me was that I was a bad girl. I was bad and that was why bad things always happened to me. That was why God let them happen.

I spent a large portion of my life trying to make up for being bad. I let people take advantage of me and treat me unkindly. I was fully aware of what they were doing, I just wanted to redeem myself in the eyes of God. I had to somehow get back into His good graces. People called me names, I said nothing. Some would physically attack me, I didn't retaliate. Others betrayed me, and though I was hurt, I let them get away with it. You see, I felt I deserved their mistreatment and hatred. Because I was a bad girl. I was a bad person.

Then, one day I got pissed. I tell you today that nothing cures despair like anger. Don't ever let anyone tell you that anger is counterproductive because it definitely is not. All emotions serve a purpose. This post is not about anger, so I will tell you about channeling it properly some other time. Right now I want to tell you about how getting angry repaired my broken spirit. At least that's what I thought at the time.

I thought, "Why the hell don't I deserve to be protected? What makes me so evil that the whole world can dump all over me without consequences?" I didn't remember doing anything that would warrant God's hatred, so I had had enough. I went from the extreme of being a doormat to the extreme of being in constant-anger mode. But again, we'll talk about that in a future post.

Even after I learned to calm myself and be a little more peaceful, I still had this one issue that wouldn't go away: I was fat. It was more than that, though. I would gain weight, be horrified by my reflection in the mirror, then lose weight. Lather, rinse, repeat as needed. I used to think that I had a love/hate relationship with food, as in: I love it, it loves me, and I hate that it loves me so damned much because it has a tendency to stick around long after I'm done savoring its deliciousness. I've realized, later than I would have hoped, that my love/hate relationship is with myself. I absolutely love to hate myself. I've become quite good at it, too. I call myself names, I physically attack myself (in the forms of overeating and other self-abuse), I betray my own sense of self-worth by doing things that make me feel horrible about myself. Does any of this sound familiar?

Why do I do this to myself?

Because somewhere, not so deep down inside myself, I still think I'm a bad girl. I still think I deserve to be mistreated only I've made it clear to others that they can't do it. So who does that leave to treat me like dirt?

Me.

Isn't that something? I've fought most of my life to be respected and here I am disrespecting myself. If you recognize yourself anywhere in this post, let's stop this abuse of ourselves. Let's take a stand against the one person we thought would always have our backs. Let's defend ourselves...against ourselves. Don't defeat yourself before you even begin by saying how hard this is going to be. I'm a firm believer that you can do whatever you think you can do. If you think it's going to be hard, it'll be hard; if you think it's going to be easy, it'll be easy. Let's come up with strategies and game plans as if we were facing our greatest enemy. Let's find ways to cut him off at every pass. Let's be on the offensive. Let's attack before the "enemy" gets a chance to.

I'm going to take my first step today. When I finish this post, I'm going to walk over to my dresser, pick up the bottle of diet pills that I pay $40/month for and I'm going to throw them in the trash. I'm going to continue  on the blood pressure pills I take to counteract the effects of said diet pills, but only for a month. And hopefully, once both medicines are out of my system, I can reclaim the libido that has been lost from taking the blood pressure meds. As you can see, I gave up a lot to my inner enemy; my health, my womanhood. And if that weren't enough, those pills turn you into a raging lunatic. Some of you have benefited from that lunacy on A Bitch Called Mom. I guess we'll have to see if I have any 'bitch' left in me once the diet pills are all gone.

I suspect there's plenty to spare.

"Change the voices in your head. Make them like you instead." ---P!nk

Here's to self-love, self-worth, and self-respect! Please send positive vibes, thoughts, and prayers my way and I will do the same for you.

Until next week,

Feed on love, subsist on peace.

A Whole New Definition

I was thinking about the word 'soulmate' today. I don't know why, sometimes stuff just pops into my head. I was home alone, there was quiet time to think, you do the math. It's one of those words that I have believed in the past to be grossly misused. Everybody, it seems, is looking for his soulmate. The person who will march into your life and magically change it for the better. The only reason why your life isn't the picturesque masterpiece that you desire is because you haven't yet met your soulmate.

I wondered: does a soulmate have to be someone with whom you have a romantic connection? Does it have to be your spouse or life partner? If you believe in multiple incarnations of the soul, as I do, I submit that the answer is no.

Think about reincarnation for a minute. Energy never dies, it only changes form. That means that because you are pure energy, when your body dies, your soul lives on and may manifest into some other living phenomenon. Consider also, that the people you know and/or love and/or hate now are the same souls that you've encountered in all your other lives. You run in the same circles, if you will.

If all that is true, doesn't it stand to reason that your soulmate could be any of your treasured souls? For instance, if my husband is my soulmate, I may have been his best friend in another lifetime. Or his favorite teacher that he adored for years, or his brother with whom he was very close. Maybe he's not my soulmate at all. Maybe my soulmate is my youngest son over whom I'm so fiercely protective or my sister to whom I'm so close, we joke about being the same person. If a soulmate is truly your soul's mate, he is with you through all your incarnations, probably in different capacities.

I don't think of my soulmate as someone with whom I'm meant to spend my whole life, but rather the soul with whom I share all my lives.

I know I'm weird. I make no apologies for that. I am who I am.

But you know what this means don't you? You no longer have to bang your head against a wall wondering where your soulmate is and what, pray tell, is taking him so damned long. You no longer have to despair that you will never meet the "right" person for you. You have already met him. Time and time again. When you meet him in this lifetime, your soul will recognize his soul; your energy will be in tune with his energy.

Because you already know him. You already love him and he already loves you. You are connected by something far greater than you can even begin to understand on this earthly plane. And the best part is, you always will be.

Stop wasting every ounce of your energy and focus on sending fear into the universe. You may already know your soulmate in this life, but you're so busy looking outside of yourself for happiness that you're ignoring the blessings right under your nose. Send out love out into the world. Send out openness. Let God know that your are ready to accept the powerful blessings of love that are rightfully yours.

One day when you least expect it, your soulmate will walk through the door.

Or maybe, just maybe, you will carry him next to your heart for nine months before birthing him into another manifestation of his life.  

Tell me what you think. Do you believe you already know your soulmate? Is he/she who you thought it would be?

Until next week,
Feed on love, subsist on peace.

Repost: To Thine Own Self Be True

I'm going to have to ask for your forgiveness and understanding this week. I've been (and I still am) feverishly looking for a job. It has taken up my blog-posting time for the past three days, and it shows no signs of letting up. Please wish me luck and enjoy this repost from June 2010. It was my very first post (officially), so not many of you have had the opportunity to read it and comment on it.  


There's a reason why Shakespeare was Shakespeare. The man was a genius. His writing delved into the very core of the human spirit. But I don't want to talk about Shakespeare today; I want to talk about you. I want to talk about how his powerful words, "To thine own self be true", can open the door to fulfilling your life's true purpose.

For many of you, I know, those words feel selfish. Looking out for number one feels like the rest of the world is unimportant. Nothing could be farther from the truth. All the greatest, wealthiest, most influential people in the world put themselves first. As it should be.

I'll give you another, equally dynamic quote: "If Mama ain't happy, ain't nobody happy." Now while I don't know who coined this particular phrase, I recognize that it's the same compelling sentiment. Think about it. If you give everything to others, what is left over for you? If there's nothing left over, won't you feel drained? Depleted? And ultimately, resentful? Give and give and give, and watch how fast others take and take and take. You may not have noticed by now, so I'm here to tell you that people treat you the way you treat yourself.

So I beg you; be kind to yourself. Give yourself compliments. Take note of how gorgeous you are when you stare into the mirror naked. Surround yourself with beauty and beauty will emanate from within you. Fill yourself up and you'll overflow with energy, love, and countless other marvelous things to offer the world. Respect yourself and others will respect you. Love and cherish yourself and you will attract to you people who only want to love and cherish you. If you are whole and complete, you can't help but be a better wife, husband, mother, father, daughter, son...you get the point.

Happiness begins with you. Start today. Be happy now.


Have you gained wisdom from a favorite poem or quote? Please share it with the rest of us.




Until next week,
Feed on love; subsist on peace.

I Am What I Am

You know how people always say, "It is what it is"? That saying drives me crazy. I don't know if it's because it's so overused or because it's a vague, catchall that has basically come to mean "I don't know what else to say, so I'm done with this conversation." I dislike it, and because I dislike it, I'd tossed it into the useless-words pile along with 'diva' and 'soul mate.'


Today, though, something happened that made me reconsider throwing that axiom away.


I visited a website called Cafe Astrology.com to obtain my natal chart. A natal chart gives you more than just your zodiac sign and it's basic characteristics. It's a detailed compilation of who you are astrologically. Say what you want about astrology, but I believe you are missing out on some valuable information that could very well help you understand yourself by dismissing it.


This chart didn't give me a general description of the person I may or not be, it broke me down into little chunks and explained why I am the way I am. It didn't just say that I love my family, but I've had many challenges in my life. That's a given for most people. No, it was surprisingly accurate. For instance, this is what it says about me as a person born when the planet Mars was in the sign of Taurus:


"It is almost impossible to get these people moving once they've made up their minds on a matter. You want them to go shopping with you? Unfortunately for you, about half an hour back, they've kicked up their heels, changed into something comfortable, and they simply won't budge."


I was giddy with excitement when I read that because I do that to people ALL THE TIME! I'm talking that very specific example that was given. Yes, that one. I do it all the time. I have a friend who will call sometimes and ask me to run to the store with her. If I've already changed my clothes and gotten comfy, she can forget it. Still not convinced? Try this one: for about four years I was a huge fan of Ray Lewis of the Baltimore Ravens. I was such a fan that the only thing that stopped me from being a groupie was my marriage. (I've told you before that hubby keeps me out of trouble) Well, one day hubby and some friends were at Ray Lewis' restaurant and he came in. They struck up a conversation with him and soon he was seated at their table laughing, drinking, and having a good time like old friends. Hubby, awesome guy that he is, told Mr. Lewis that his wife was a very big fan, to which Mr. Lewis responded, "Call her up and tell her to come down here so I can meet her."


Hubby calls me up and relays the message. Normally, I'd be ecstatic and would have flown down there on adrenaline alone. But...I had already undressed and gotten comfortable for the evening and I didn't have any plans to leave the house again that night. I thought about all I'd have to do. Get dressed, put on full make-up, drive 20 minutes..."You know what? Just tell Ray I said 'hey'."


I can't tell you how peaceful I feel after reading the report. Many times either people have asked me or I've asked myself why do you do that? Or why are you like that? Normally, I'd hunch my shoulders and offer a confused facial expression that says 'when you find out, let me know.' Now I do know. After reading that because of when and where I was born, I "feel the need to 'redo'" myself often and that I "cannot stay in the same place, likes change even if it means a backward step in her professional career," I know precisely why I do the things I do. 


It's because I am what I am. I am who I am. I was born to be the type of woman who rocks a long, auburn weave this week and a short, black pixie cut the next week. I was born to be a person who wants to live in every American state and several different countries. I was born to be the friend who loves you very much, but will not get out of bed at 5 AM to take you to the airport. 


I am who I am. Which means, I'm exactly who I'm supposed to be. So...


I don't have to stop daydreaming in the middle of the afternoon. I don't have to stay in the same job for 30 years. I can paint my living room a different color on a whim. I can change the way I dress and cut my hair every eighteen months. I can get a job in yet another industry if I am so inclined. I can go back to school and major in something entirely different. 


And it's okay. Really, it is. I'm only being me.


Go ahead, my friends. Keep your saying, "it is what it is." Keep referring to yourselves and others as 'divas.' Keep pronouncing every man you meet as your 'soul mate.' You're just doing something you were born to do. You're just being you.


And that's okay. You're okay. You are who you are.


By the way, my chart also stated that I often get bored, I am mischievous and even precocious and as such, I am easily led astray. I just wanted my husband to keep that in mind the next time he has to come to my rescue. 


I'm a handful, I know, but he loves being my hero.






Until next week,
Feed on love, subsist on peace.

The Invitation

I came across a poem the other day that encompasses everything to which I aspire for myself as well as everything I wish for you: my friends, family, and loyal readers. It says it all and once you read it, you will never be the same.

The Invitation by Oriah Mountain Dreamer



It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.
It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.
It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have reached the center of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain. I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it or fade it or fix it.
I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own, if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, to be realistic, to remember the limitations of being human.
It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself; if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul; if you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy.
I want to know if you can see beauty, even when it's not pretty, everyday, and if you can source your own life from its presence.
I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand on the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, "Yes!"
It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up, after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and do what needs to be done to feed the children.
It doesn't interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back.
It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you, from the inside, when all else falls away.
I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.


I urge you to meditate on this poem; print it out and read it over and over again. Hide it in your heart, as my mama used to say. I firmly believe that the lessons contained within it can sustain you and help you get through anything life throws your way, as well as any self-imposed hardships. And make no mistake, most of our hardships are self-imposed.


Learn the lessons, hold them dear. Be happy for the rest of your life. Seems unfathomable, doesn't it? It's not. It's absolutely possible.


If you have a situation about which you'd like to get a fresh perspective, please email me at thewellfedspirit@gmail.com. In 2011, let's turn this into the blog I meant for it to be: one that offers a listening ear connected to a kind heart. I'm listening. What do you have to say?

Until next week,
Feed on love, subsist on peace.

I've Gotta Be Me

When my husband and I were first married, I made it my mission to be the perfect wife and mother. We were young, our first son had just been born, and we decided that the best thing for him would be if I was a Stay At Home Mom. Not having been raised in a "traditional" household with a mother, father, two point five kids, and a dog, the only way I could garner how to do that was from watching TV.

Don't you just love TV moms? Their homes are immaculate, their meals are always delicious, their children are well-behaved, their lawns are manicured, their thumbs are green. They are perfect hostesses, they don't mind if their husbands bring home a guest for dinner without notification, their spouses work crazy long hours and they don't mind. They help with homework, dole out motherly love and advice, drive the soccer team to every game. They have endless supplies of energy, they're always in the mood for sex, and they do all of this while looking remarkably put-together.

Can you imagine trying to keep up this frenetic pace and maintain your sanity? I tried. For the first five years of my marriage, I tried to be everything to my husband and son. Then one day when I wasn't paying attention, resentment started to creep in. This isn't me, I thought. I'm a fun-loving extrovert. I like to meet new people and try new things. I like to spend time with my friends laughing and talking about grown-up things. I like to go to concerts and clubs and dinner parties. I like to shop for things other than food, household items, and toddler clothes. I like to get my hair done by professionals. I enjoy manicures and pedicures.

I liked doing things for me.

But who the hell was this 'me' person and why was she popping up after all these years? I'd gone from an eccentric people lover to an isolated home body. In short, I'd turned into the female version of my husband. My hubby didn't like going out and meeting new people; it just wasn't his thing.  He was perfectly happy going to work everyday, coming home to a hot meal, and staying in to watch a movie with his wife and son. Because I loved him so, I was content to do whatever made him happy...at first.

Let me interrupt the remainder of this post to say that this was not my husband's fault. I was so determined to be the real life incarnation of Carol Brady, that I forgot to be me. And boy, did I hate DH for that. I resented him and blamed him for turning my whole life into something totally different than I had planned it to be. I hadn't planned on getting pregnant the first semester I re-enrolled in college. I planned on getting my B.A. in Psychology and enrolling in grad school. I planned on earning my doctorate and moving to Hollywood to be a shrink to the stars. I planned on writing best-selling books on how to be happy even if everything in your life says you shouldn't be. I planned on traveling the world and buying homes on Waikiki and in the South of France. I never planned to have any children.

Why do we do that? Why do we make someone else's happiness a priority over our own? I think that somewhere in the midst of society's portrayals of who we should be, some of us forgot to just be ourselves; the selves we were created to be. It is possible to love yourself and still be a good wife. It is possible to be happy with who you are as a person and still be a good mother. Who cares if your house is a little messy? If people don't like your messy home, they don't have to visit. If they don't like your cooking, they can take you out to dinner. If they don't like your parenting skills, they can mind their own damned business.

You can deny who you are just to be with someone or to make that someone happy or comfortable, but you can't do it for long. One day the real you will burst from the depths of your being and refuse to be denied any longer. Save yourself the wasted time, the miserable years and be happy now. Be you now. It is absolutely possible to strike a balance between who you are and whom you aspire to be. Trust me when I tell you that both you and those you love will be a lot better off in the long run.

As for DH and I, we separated for a brief period when I was attempting to find myself again. Let's just say that when we reunited, things were very different.

And we're still together.

Until next week,
Feed on love; subsist on peace.

Operation: For the Love of Me

Today I did something that I haven't done in at least ten years. I cut my hair. What's so unique and special about that is what came next. Cutting my hair prompted me to embark on a year-long journey to self-love; Operation: For the Love of Me. It made me think about all of the things that I do out of love for others. I cook because I love my family and I want them to have nutritious meals. I'm active in the PTA because I love my children and I want to ensure they have quality educations. I've been on a quest to find my signature fragrance because I love my husband and I want to smell good for him. I even write this blog because I love my fellow man and I want you to be happy. 

What, though, have I done out of love for me? Don't wait too long for the answer because I'm still thinking. Like many women, I've left myself for last and then, eventually, completely forgotten about myself. I don't remember the last time I laughed until I cried. No, wait. I was watching an episode of Scare Tactics that had tears streaming down my cheeks. Unfortunately, that was about three months ago. At least. So to remedy this, I have decided that for the next 365 days, I will do something to care for and cherish and honor me.

I've started with my hair. I have worn wigs and/or weaves for at least the past ten years. My favorite saying was, "There is no excuse for a bad hair day." If you happened to see me strolling around Lake Montebello, you might have seen my real hair. But only if I didn't happen to have a cute ponytail to clip onto my own. So...twice. After years of gluing, sewing, clipping, drawstring-ing, and braiding, my hair was unhealthy to say the least. It fell out a few times at the top and back, it thinned out considerably, and I had started getting those bald edges that you see when one braids her hair a lot. My hair was shoulder-length with split ends, about two inches long at the top, and as thin as a newborn baby's. So I cut it off.

Here is a picture of me before. 

Note the long, luxurious hair masking the thin, unhealthy hair. Pretty neat trick, wouldn't you say? Oh, and making it worse I might add.

Here's a picture of me today. 

Wait for it...

Just to drive the point home, here are a few more.

  

It's what I call on-my-way-to-healthy. You have no idea how hard it was for me to post these pictures. Nobody but my immediate family has seen my actual hair for years. I wouldn't leave the house unless I had some sort of apparatus on my head. If someone knocked on my door and my hair wasn't all weaved up, I would kill anyone who dared open the door without first giving me time to put on a wig. I didn't care who it was either, my kids' friends, the mailman, the cable guy, my in-laws. Nobody was allowed to see the real me. I wonder why that was? 

Was it because for all my positive talk on this blog, I still didn't think the real me was good enough? Let's explore that over the next year, shall we?

I've made a list of all the things I believe I need in order to be healthy. This is just the jumping off point, so I may see the need in the future to add more.

1. Drink eight glasses of water/day

2. Take Vitamin D pills (my doctor swears by them)

3. Exercise one hour/day

4. Eat more healthy foods than nutritionally-challenged foods

5. Wash my hair twice/week

6. Trim my hair every six weeks

7. Grant myself the time to soak in the tub at least three times/week. 

8. Meditate for 15 minutes/day

9. Write something everyday be it a page, poem, prayer, chant, or grocery list

10. Forgive one person/day

11. Forgive myself for one thing/day and write it down so I won't forget it.

12. Listen to my children's actual voices for 10 minutes/day. This may seem weird, but I realized the other day that the whole day had gone by and I hadn't actually spoken to my oldest son. We had sent several text messages, though. 

13. Hug my family everyday

14. Listen to my husband vent/rant about his job for 10 minutes/day

15. Tell more jokes. I don't think I'm funny, so this won't be an easy one. 

16. Spend less time around vampires. Yes, I said vampires. You know those people who suck all the energy and life right out of you? Vampires.

I'm inviting all of you to join me. Let's make this the biggest movement our generation has seen. OPERATION: FOR THE LOVE OF ME!!!!!!

And in the spirit of keeping my promise to myself, here's a joke:

A man and his wife were having some problems at home and were giving each other the silent treatment. The next week the man realized that he would need his wife to wake him at 5:00 a.m. for an early morning business flight to Chicago. Not wanting to be the first to break the silence, he finally wrote on a piece of paper, "Please wake me at 5:00 a.m." 
The next morning the man woke up, only to discover it was 9:00 a.m. and that he had missed his flight. Furious, he was about to go and see why his wife hadn't woken him when he noticed a piece of paper by the bed ... it said... "It's 5:00 a.m. Wake up."

Until next week,

Feed on love; subsist on peace.

Our Bodies, Ourselves

One day when my oldest son was about three years old, we went to visit his grandparents. They were really excited to see him, but he wasn't in the best of moods at the time. Maybe he was sleepy; maybe he was hungry. I don't remember. I do remember, though, that his grandmother wanted to give him a hug. Khalil wasn't having that. Usually, he would run to her and jump into her arms. They would plant kisses all over each other's faces and giggle, but not that day. Disappointed, my mother-in-law said to me, "Shawnie, make him give me a hug."

My response? "He doesn't have to hug you if he doesn't want to."

I could tell by her expression that her feelings were hurt. My response probably could have been a lot nicer. I should have taken her feelings into consideration. I wish I had. But the sentiment would have been the same.

From the time my son was born, I decided that I would let him know that it is okay to say no to adults. I wanted to empower him so that some ill-meaning person would be less likely to take advantage of him. Many times children who are sexually abused don't realize that they can say no. They think they have to do what the predator says because he/she is an adult. That's what I thought when I was a child being abused. I thought, "If I don't do what he says, I'll be in trouble." I thought, "My mother told me to do what the babysitter tells me to do." I thought, "This doesn't feel right, but I can't disobey my aunt."

Children have to know that sometimes, disobeying is the right thing to do. They can't know that unless we teach them. They won't know unless we teach them. Teach them that their bodies belong to them. Nobody has a right to touch them for any reason without their consent. Did I say nobody? Because I mean absolutely nobody: not mommy, not daddy, not teacher, not coach, not sister, not brother, not pastor. Nobody. My daughter was four years old when I had to verbally instruct her on the proper way to clean her private areas because she decided that she no longer wanted me to do it. She was able to decide because she knew it was her choice.

Teach them to trust their instincts. You'll hear me say this often: intuition is the voice of God. When you have a bad feeling about something, that's God whispering, and sometimes screaming, in your ear, "This is not right!" Don't ignore God's voice. He only speaks when there is something important to say.

Teach them to tattle. I know that we've been taught not to tattle-tale. We've been urged to stop snitching. I think that's ridiculous and if I offend anyone on this point, I don't really care. If a child thinks he'll be ostracized for "snitching" on someone who has hurt him, he won't tell anyone. And he will continue to be hurt. Can you imagine how you would feel if you discovered that your child was in pain and avoided telling you because he thought you'd be angry at him for tattling?

We try our best to protect our children, but we cannot always be there. So for the times when you're not around, arm them with  knowledge. Arm them with empowerment!

Until next week,

Feed on love, subsist on peace.