I never regret being late somewhere because I spent a few extra minutes lying in bed with you. We don’t get those moments often. The two of us, lying in bed, naked, bodies intertwined from wild sleeping the night before. We do lie in bed and watch tv before falling asleep, but there’s something intimate about having you to myself in the darkness, your arm around me, with no interruptions. Unintentional passion. It is in those moments that I feel my heart speaking with yours the most. The closeness and stillness of our minds and bodies create an uninhibited soul connection that can’t be challenged. It is then that I know you’re mine and that I need not have any fears. These are the moments I live for.
It’s only 11:03 am and today has already been one of the hardest emotional days for me. Just when I thought things were going great, they took an awful turn. Sometimes I just really feel as if my life is spiraling out of control. I held my composure throughout last night and all the way to work until I got out of the car at my job. I didn’t realize my backpack purse was open and my Shea butter container fell out. I reached down to get it and everything else came tumbling out. That right there was the epitome of how I feel my life works. Sometimes it’s that one small thing that sets you over the edge. One thing goes wrong and then everything else follows suit. An endless wave of pain, hurt, heartache, disappointment. I just wish I knew how to grasp better control, but I don’t. I try to convince myself that it’s okay and that no one really has life all figured out, but it’s not working. I would tell my daughter that (if I had one) and hope she would believe it because it’s the truth, but right now I can’t find solace in knowing that. All that matters in this moment is that I have no grasp on things and the more I try not to cry the more I end-up with eyes full of tears. I honestly believe I’m a really good person. I’m loving and caring and dependable and I give all of me to the ones I care about. I actually like those qualities and characteristics about myself, it’s just that I can’t figure out why others don’t appreciate those qualities about me. They say they do but then I get treated in a way I don’t deserve and it’s hurtful. So, my heart aches today. Maybe tomorrow it won’t, but today, in this moment, my optimistic outlook on happiness is shattered and I’m not sure I can ever put the pieces back together.
Being ignored has always been the worst thing to me. The worst form of rejection. I’ll admit that I’m horrible when, in a relationship and during an argument (verbal or via text), the person decides to stop responding to me. I’m a sucker for that and it hurts more than the person continuing to yell and fuss. I’m not good at ignoring that person either. I always try and then give-in. I’m the type of person who, no matter how upset/mad I am, thinks “How would I feel if that person did this to me?” I feel as though that thought is a rare one in people’s minds these days. Reciprocity is far too uncommon in general I guess. The whole “do unto others…” notion seems to have been completely lost upon society, but not upon me and, in turn, I’m always on the hurt end of things. Kindness is supposed to pay off, but at what point do I receive my refund and return? I don’t live life thinking about how the other person would feel for a reward, but at some point I really would love to have someone think, “If Tiaundra treated me this way, would I be okay with it,” and then proceed to do the nice thing. I long for such rarities.
The weight on a Black women’s shoulders is strenuous, tiresome, and heavy. Black men, how can you not appreciate this woman who carries her weight and yours? Yes, you are King, but don’t ever forget that she continues to be beside you riding with you, behind you helping to pick up the pieces, and in front of you warding off any evils coming your way. The many roles she inherits from birth are not lost upon her. She continues to show up and show out every day for your household and the vast majority of the time she moves in silence without the want or request of accolade. Your Black Queen strives to be your everything through stress, exhaustion, and silent tears because she knows the weight of the outer world has rested on your back and shoulders from birth and aims to help ease that burden. Through the easy times and the challenging ones, she remains your confidant, your healer, your best friend, your escape, your happiness, your sunshine, your light, your guide, your backbone. She even allows herself to absorb your pain when you’re in agony and unable to fully articulate its source. With all that she is, how can you allow yourself to ignore the worth of this woman? How can you be so blind to see, understand, and be grateful for the value she holds in your life and society? When will the Black Queen be revered the way she should be? At what point did the admiration of her become lost?
The older I get, the more I’m able to notice the patterns in my behaviors and in my relationships (namely, my love relationships). For instance, my latest and probably biggest revelation is that the three men I fell hardest for have obsessive personalities. Each of these men were from different stages of my life, was obsessed with me for different reasons, and expressed that obsession differently. The first was from my teenage years, the second I met not long after I graduated college, and the third I met by happenstance as I ventured into a more “adult” version of myself. Of course, there were other love relationships that trickled in and out between them (some of their stories overlapping with the three), but their impact on my life just happened to not be as great (that’s not to say that they didn’t make any impact at all, I just won’t be writing any books centered around my relationships with them).
In unraveling my latest revelation, the first question I asked myself is whether I have an obsessive personality. I think at times I become obsessed with certain thoughts, notions, and ideas (because I’m always in my head) and I need to keep going over them until they make sense, but I don’t think I have an obsessive personality overall. I even asked my closest friend who agreed with that sentiment. If I love it, then I love it but I can also let it go when it’s time and can move on quickly. I’m a very out of sight, out of mind kind of lady.
My next thought was to try to figure out why I fell head over heels in love with these men who were overly infatuated with me. Well, let’s be real, who doesn’t want someone to be infatuated with them? From a young age, we watch movies where the guy sees the girl and acts as if he can’t go another second in his life without her. For at least an hour and a half, we watch this man move hell and high water to find her again (because of course something always happens where she has to leave his life), get her, keep her, and do something amazing to make sure she stays. We are taught from a young age that that’s what we should want and those movies worked because I’ve always wanted and felt like I deserved mountains to be moved for me. Each of these men refused to let me go regardless of my constant efforts to remove myself from their lives and I loved that. I needed that feeling. I wanted to be fought for. (Thank you, Disney and every other fairytale in existence.) At one point I thought their efforts were because of their undying love for me, but, in hindsight, I realized that a lot of it was because of their aversion to someone else having me and not necessarily because they really wanted to spend the rest of their lives with me.
If you’re like me, please be careful and watch the signs. In my almost thirty years on this earth, I’ve realized that hindsight is definitely 20/20. Obsession is great as long as the motive is genuine because it can be an amazing feeling, but the situation can also go very left. Be sure to do your due diligence in finding out where the obsession stems from and if they really want you for you; if they do, then you’ve probably found a partner who will have your back for the long haul.
that there’s nothing wrong with missing you while still enjoying my alone time….
who won’t allow you to sit in the house upset over a boy.
One who will hand you a wig so you can escape and pretend to be anyone but yourself for the night.
That’s a good friend.