The Hardest Words to Say

Somebody shared a meme similar to this the other day and I laughed. Out of these 3 things, Worcestershire sauce is the easiest for me to say. "I was wrong" is even easier to say than #2.

I am an "I love you" whore! I tell everyone who matters in my life that I love them, but "I need you"? Those words seldom cross my lips.

Things have been a bit difficult in my life lately. While I have friends to turn to, saying, "I need you" is extremely hard for me to say. I don't want others to hold space for me. Everyone has so much going on in their lives and I feel like my shit is just that...shit.

Now, I know there is at least one person reading this who is thinking that she and I are going to tussle because I will hold space for her no matter what. When everything goes pear-shaped in her life, I will drop whatever I'm doing to be there. When she says, "I need some Boo time," I rearrange whatever I can for her. 

Let's be clear: I have people who will drop everything...IF I would just ask. I just don't ask. My Boo and my Peanut? They'd move heaven and earth for me if I only said, "I need you." 

I like to be needed. It helps me push my drama aside for awhile to focus on someone else. I just hate to need others. For so long, I have lived my life without needing someone to lean on. And needing someone has the connotation (in my mind) of being too weak to handle my shit myself. 

I do know that there is strength in saying the words, "I need you." And when others say those words to me, my first thought is "How can I help you carry the weight that is on your heart?" But my flawed thinking has me believing that if I ask for time or help, then I am being judged for being weak.

Tell me: What words are hardest for you to say? How are you learning to say them anyway?

A Little Something I Wrote

The other day this piece popped into my head. I could literally see the story playing out. This hasn't happened in a while which told me that this was an important piece to write. 

I shared it with a friend who called in "heartbreaking" and that's exactly the thing. My heart was breaking and I needed to write the pain out. 

I thought I'd share it with you.

The Slow Death

Plain as she can be, she never dreamed she’d be here. In this place. In this time. Staring down the barrel of several loaded guns. Caught in the crosshairs. Waiting for the one willing to pull the trigger.

Her deer eyes blink slowly, but she is frozen. Too scared to move. Too scared to stay where she is. Her body trembles as she feels the weight of the scopes, scanning the best place to plant the bullet that could lead to her demise.

Her only path is dark and overgrown with underbrush. She could hide well, but there are even scarier things waiting for her there. Creatures with sharpened teeth and razor-like claws who wish to rip her tender flesh from her body are concealed from the light of the day.

Her body shudders slightly, visible only to those closest to her. She slowly turns, allowing her body to block others who stand as terrified as she.  She bares her neck to the ones holding the guns. The ones who would kill her with one shot. She is willing to lie bleeding out on the forest floor to protect those who aren’t as willing to die as is she.

She hears the soft sighs of the hunters as she waits for the bullet to pierce her flesh. She turns slowly to look at the hunters…one at a time. She nickers softly, encouraging the others to flee and not return for her. She is willing to meet her fate. After all, no one will miss her. She is nothing to them. Just another trophy for their wall and meals for their families.

She hears a man call something. With a deep breath, her long lashed eyes close. She hears men’s laughter as she opens her eyes to find the darkest haired of the men making his way toward her, his hand outstretched, reaching to run his fingers over her trembling body. He speaks in such a low and calming manner as he strokes his hands over her. She feels her body leaning into him, begging him for more. The one wild creature in the forest that aches for the touch of man. The touch of THIS man.

His friends are teasing him as he slowly runs his long fingers of her. He smiles and her heart melts. Today she will not die in the way she anticipated. Instead she will die because this man will merely carry her heart with him as he walks away. And he will walk away. They all walk away. She is a wild creature not meant to be loved in any capacity. She is merely for men’s entertainment and amusement. She is not meant to have forever. She is only meant for the here and now.

The man coaxes her to follow him and the wild in her heart aches to be free. He does not understand that wild things aren’t made to be domesticated simply because they’re terrified of having their spirits broken.

Again, he whispers murmurs of love. Her heart races because there is nothing she wants more than to be loved by this man. However, he like the others will hurt her. He’s a man. He doesn’t know any other way to be. But, god, this man. This man she wants to love more than the others before him. He teases her to follow him towards the edge of the clearing.

His friends continue to tease and laugh. In her heart, she knows they’re laughing at her stupidity and willingness to give herself over to him for one more stroke of his hands over her. She tried to tune them out and just enjoy the moment. The man then laughs and shoos at her. “Stupid woman! Did you really think I’d love you?”

She feels her heart shatter into a millions pieces and tears fall from her big doe-like eyes. The droplets cling to her lashes as she looks at him, her wounded heart glistening in her eyes. She slowly turns to walk into the dense underbrush, praying to be devoured by the dark creatures with fangs and claws. It would be so much easier than the slow death of falling in love.

-GKM-6192020

Loyalty, Smoyalty

*Steps on soapbox* *taps mic* 

I've been accused many times of being a June Cleaver in a Kim Kardashian world.  And it seems that is only becoming more and more true.

Today, the lesson is about loyalty and commitment. 

We have become a throw away society in so many ways. It isn't just about the convenience of items in our life. It is also about the convenience of people. It doesn't matter how close or distant they are. It doesn't matter if they are a hard worker and loyal to a fault. It becomes about convenience.

This week, I've received an eye opening revelation of what loyalty means to people in my life. It became a point where I actually began to question myself and my values. 

I realize I was raised differently than most people. I was raised to be loyal to your job, your friends, and to your mate. However, I've learned that people who claim to be your friend aren't always telling the truth. Spouses cheat and lie. And your job? Well, your job is never a sure thing. 

I got a very tough lesson and it is one that I will not soon forget. I've been told so many times how valuable I am, but it turns out that I'm not as valued as I was told. Someone whose opinion I valued revealed their true colors and their opinion of me is not as they once claimed. 

Why? Turns out that because I've slightly inconvenienced this person in order to take care of myself and mine, their opinion became one filled with malice and hate. This person turned on me in a way that I never dreamed they could or would.

For a moment (or more like the last day), I've questioned myself and doubted myself. However, what I have discovered is that what I did had nothing to do with how this person feels. But I'm a means to an end for this person. People like me. People within this forum sincerely like me. And I've sheltered this person from the anger for such a long time that they believe that I'm disposable. 

Again, I was raised to believe that people are never disposable. And once you make me feel like I am, then you are on your way out of my circle. Making me doubt myself and my values pushes you even further out. 

One thing I have learned many times of my years on this planet is that money makes people do stupid things. One of these things is often to believe that people are simply throw away. 

I may not be as smart as someone else. Maybe I could work harder or be more dedicated. When it comes to my passion, I am. However, when I have to work to create and build someone else's dream only to find myself being degraded and devalued, then I find myself question where my loyalty should actually lie.

And here is the answer...myself. That is where my loyalty should and will lie. I have a very tight circle of friends and family who love me unconditionally. They, too, have my loyalty. But that's where it ends. No longer will I put my loyalty in people who can't see my value or who make me feel like I'm less than because I am doing what I need to survive. 

Because survive I will. And I will soar higher than I ever dreamed...all on my own wings. 

Life is Good

How is everyone? I'm praying you and yours are all doing well. I'm still standing and counting the blessings that grace my world.

I started a new blog. I celebrated a birthday. I sat in my sadness over the anniversary of my father's death. I've got on with life and taken a deep breath over the opening up of my world again.

I haven't been into an actual store since March and I'm finding that I don't really miss it. I have a local store that I miss, but, in general, I'm just don't care. I order my groceries online and pick them up on my designated day at my designated time. Anything else I need can either wait or I will order it and have it delivered to the house. The dogs love it! They know when their food is delivered and they get so excited to see the boxes. 

Did I tell you I adopted 2 dogs? I don't think I did. My boss and friend knew my heart hurt over losing Diesel. She knew of 2 dogs who needed love, attention, and training. I hesitated simply because neither of them had ever been in the city, let alone a house. I was worried that this would be more than I could handle. I'd managed to train the other dogs because I'd been home full-time. Working full-time would make this dynamic an interesting one. So, just before Halloween 2019, I drove the 30 minutes to pick up these boys. Jaxson is a Jack Russell terrier who hated to be picked up and really didn't want a lot to do with me. Opie, on the other hand, is a blue heeler/border collie mix. (Yeah, energy enough to fuel a small city.) He has been a tryer of my patience. However, he's a good boy who is finally settling into a much more comfy life. Wanna see a picture?

As you can see, they're having an AWFUL time adjusting. LOL The little one is finally learning to snuggle and it just warms my heart. He has been giving kisses and will let me hug him when the mood strikes him. And the big oaf? Well, he's never had an issue with being loved and adored. Walking on a leash? That's a whole different ball game. *eye roll*

Back to the topic of conversation. I have been working through all of this mess, so I'm blessed more than others. With unemployment being a mess and people being out of work, I am so glad to be still working and getting a steady paycheck. I know of small business owners who are being hit so hard right now and it breaks my heart. 

And I've opened up a couple of my Word docs to work on my writing. Don't know how far I'll get, but it feels good to stretch my fingers across the keyboard and let the characters come back to life.

So, tell me, how are you faring? You have all been covered in my prayers and will continue to be covered in them as we test the waters of reopening the country, our states, our cities...our lives. Be safe. Be healthy. Be kind.

The Art of Storytelling

It isn't really a surprise to anyone that I became a storyteller. After all, it's in my blood.

I remember sitting on my grandmother's lap as she told me story after story. She'd tell me about where my family came from, how her and grandpa met, the night of my mom and dad's first date, the night I was born, growing up, losing her mother, and life. 

There are some of these stories I can recite in my sleep and others I have lost the thread of. However, I'd give anything for another story from this beloved woman.

I've been watching one of my favorite movies lately. It showed up in my Netflix suggestions and my heart did a little flip. How To Make An American Quilt is the title and it has made me a bit nostalgic. Women sitting around a table, having conversations about relationships, life, and love. 

All of this reminiscing has me wondering if women do this anymore? Do they sit and share stories with their children? Will this next generation know where they came from, where their roots lie? For so long, women have been the storytellers, the secret keepers, for their families, for the world. I'm afraid that there will so much lost to future generations when we stop telling the stories of how our families came to be. We are so involved in the future and how we want things to turn out that we forget to look back and realize how we came to this place.

I'm going to wrap this up with an example of the importance of storytelling: My grandma started a tradition when I was small and it carried on until she passed away. She would tell me the story of the night I was born. When she died, my mom and dad began telling me their versions of that same night. When my dad died, my cousin picked up with her version. That story is a very special part of who I am and I know that the art of storytelling has impacted who I was, who I am, and who I have yet to become. 

This piece always touches my heart in a profound way. Carry it with you.

Finding Beauty in the Darkest Places

   

I've been struggling a lot lately. Finding my way is harder than I ever imagined. The yellow brick road is covered in debris and thorny bushes and the flying monkeys flew off with my machete. My clothes are ripped and torn from my struggle through the forest. My body is worn out and tired from all the fighting. My mind is trying to comprehend why I am having to struggle as hard as I am. I'm trying to keep from giving up, but, by gods, it is hard some days. I don't feel beautiful. I don't love myself. And I sure as fuck don't feel worthy of being loved.

I look beside me and the people who love and support me are cloaked from sight. While this is my own personal battle, it is nice to know when people are fighting with you and for you!

I was given some homework to do and I am dreading it because it is going to tear me apart emotionally. However, this is something that needs to be done...after all, I want you to see that I'm not just another name on the other side of the computer screen. I'm a real life woman with issues too numerous to count. Because I want you to see the struggle, I am posting this here for you.

What Makes Me Beautiful?

1. My darkness. It is full of the secret longings, desires, and loves I hold inside.

2. My smile. Though crooked and not perfect by any means, I've been told that it brightens a person's day.

3. My eyes. I love the hazel green that is shifting to a golden color. But I also love that I see the good in people.

4. My hair. It is currently blue black with sapphire blue and jade green streaks in it. This is the purest expression of me.

5. My ability to love. Even after being hurt as much as I have been, I still love to the width and depth of my being.

6. My hope. I have hope that life will better itself and I will be able to see that the struggle has been worth it.

7. My hands. They bear scars and show my age, but when one person I know takes my hands in his, I notice how easy it is for him and how we fit together so beautifully.

8. My imagination. It has kept me from becoming so entrenched in the dire straits of my reality.

9. My heart. Like my hands, it bears scars from the people I trusted to take care of it, but didn't. Yet, I still hold my heart out for the next person, offering it up as a sacrifice for them, hoping they see the true me and wonder if they can still love me just the same.

10. My inner dork. I am a nerd, but unless I really let you in, you'll never see. I laugh at the silliest jokes, belly laugh over derp derp dog pictures, and can't pass up a chance to have a good LOTR marathon.

So, part one of my homework is done. This was one of the hardest things I've had to do, but I've done it. I mean every word of it. Show me your scars and tell me about what makes YOU beautiful! Let's celebrate the beauty inside each of us!

Losing My Way

          

Have you ever stopped to notice that life has a funny way of going so far off course, yet it seems to always work out the way it is supposed to? Yeah, I'm still stuck in the Land of Oz, but I'm having a ball. It all seems surreal some days. Others? Well, reality has a way of punching me in the face and showing me how real it all is.

When my marriage began to fall apart, I blamed myself. Hell, he blamed me, too. I was devastated, and yet, I had faith that I'd be alright. And as I was reminded, my faith wavered more than I care to admit. I was ready to walk away from my faith, my spirituality, and my gods. All of this was because I felt betrayed and let down. I hurt and I was hurt, however, I never realized that there was something better out there. My best friend moved out of our rental house and completely wrecked my world. I sank into a deeper depression than I had ever seen before. Deep enough that I never dreamed I'd see daylight again. Betrayal was the tip of the iceberg to what I felt. What faith I had regained, I attempted to walk away from. My gods gave me something rare and beautiful, then it went away. I didn't want to see that it was a gift very few got to hold. And how blessed I was to have had him for the short time I did. I merely went through the motions of living after he left. I was sure I would live out the rest of my life alone. I even had a plan...yeah, I was depressed to the point of wanting to end it all. I kept pushing forward though. I'm not sure why. It was probably the fact that my sister kept on my ass. She listened when everyone else forgot I existed. Because I didn't ask for help, everyone thought I was doing just fine. Hell, most still think I am. They have no idea what I have been through or the memories that haunt me every day. I don't post all of my business on social media for the world to see. I will share things that I may be feeling and I get the general, "Everything will be okay" comment from people. My dog kept me moving. I had to get up and go to work everyday so that he had food to eat. He's the only reason I kept living. He gets me through the rough stuff and is the love of my life. Then, something better (or so I thought) came along. After being hurt consistently and ending up on the floor of his kitchen, my head thrown against the cupboard and being knocked unconscious, I walked away. Even this was a blessed lesson in what I can and will tolerate. As much as I was wanting to end it all, I really didn't want to die. Then, one day, I walked into a class. I was an hour early. Having no internet at home, this was my time to get online. I was actually reading a book when the most amazing thing happened. In walked a man with a smile that was absolutely incredible. Then, he spoke and I felt my heart fall. We would sit and talk. And we discovered we weren't alone. In that moment, we found our kindred spirits.

I write this because I want you to know you're not alone. I write this because I want you to know there is a human being behind this keyboard.

https://architecturalafterlife.com/2015/09/26/the-eerie-and-abandoned-land-of-oz/ Photo credit to Johnny Joo

I am still wandering the Yellow Brick Road and some days, it is very golden. Then, I turn a corner and feel like I've lost my way. Under the muck, the overgrowth, and the darkness, the gold is still there. I just have to dig a little harder for it. I've learned that some how, some way, I will end up back on the Yellow Brick road, even if I walk off into the beautiful fields and forests that surround it. 

Then, there are those pesky flying monkeys. Every so often, they will come around and take my happy with them. Those are the days, I struggle. I try. I really do. I get up, put on my big girl pants, and go about my day. Some days, I am simply going through the motions, but I'm still trying.

I am in the best place I've been in a long time though. I am in a place I never dreamed I'd be. I have this life that I thought had passed me by, but yet, here it is. Just because I am living part of my dream doesn't mean I have it all. Not even close. I'm trying every day to get closer to what I truly desire.

I've Been Thinking...

I know that thought scares most of you who know me. Thinking means this Gemini is either bored and looking for trouble or she's stalling. Actually, I'm neither. 

A friend of mine posted a thought on Facebook today and she got me thinking. Her question went along the lines of; "How does your idea of happiness in your twenties differ from your idea of happiness now?" (Thank you, Liane!) This really started my mind working overtime.

My idea of happiness when I was twenty involved a home, husband, and children. My idea of happiness now? Well, not those things. I had a husband, I no longer do. My children have all been four-legged and furry. And I've made a home out of the most I've had. Now, my happiness is slightly different. Happiness now involves sharing a single bed with a 170 lb. dog who steals as much of my bed as he can throughout the night. Spending my days studying and my nights writing. "Playing" with my best friend and enjoying this lifestyle we are exploring. Hanging out, watching movies, and eating deep-dish pizza. Laughing with my little sisters or best friend and his brothers. Cooking breakfast for my best friend and hearing him say, "This is the best one yet!" Knowing I am appreciated and loved every single day. Knowing that my studies are leading me to the career where I can make a difference in this world. Realizing that my stories are being read by people and people are loving them. 

Puppy kisses and sharing the bed with this guy...priceless!

My idea of happiness and success are so vastly different that they used to be! In many ways, this has to do with the changes I've made over the last year. In so many others, well, they have to do with my best friend and the way he has showed me how to use different lenses to look at things. He is slowly changing my pessimistic ways...the glass isn't always half-empty anymore. Sometimes it is half-full. Other times, there is simply water in the glass and I need to be grateful. Whether it is half-filled or only a swallow, I need to be happy with the fact that at least I have water in said glass.

So tell me...has your idea of happiness changed over the years? I want to hear your thoughts!

Life in the Slow Lane

As most of you know, life in my house is seldom boring. With the dogs, two college students, and writing, I tend to live life in the slow lane, but never boring.
This last weekend, my darling hubby and I celebrated 21 years since our first date. Yes, 21 years! We determined that this was the date that never ended :) We picked up pizza and some movies with friends, then spent the entire evening together. A month later, he presented me with his dad's bloodstone ring and made his intent very clear...he was going to marry me. We celebrated the anniversary with...well, pizza and a movie. It seemed appropriate.
However, on Friday morning, we woke up to our oldest girl hardly being able to walk. I hoped and prayed for the best, but at the age of seventeen, there wasn't a lot of hope to hold out for. By Saturday night, we knew we would be making a trip to the vet's office on Monday morning to tell our precious girl goodbye. 

Jasmine

Jasmine and her constant companion, Rupert the Rat

Let me tell you a little bit about Jazzy. She may not look like it, but she was ferocious...if you were trying to hurt her dad OR if you were fuzzy. I can't tell you how many rabbits this lovable face killed. She would hunt them down with her sisters, then she'd kill the rabbit, bring it to me and drop it at my feet. Yeah, like that is the gift I want :) Even her inside toys were stuffed and fuzzy. 
Jazzy also had a penchant for counter surfing when she was younger. She ate an entire pound of butter and a loaf of bread. She ate an entire bag of 3 Musketeer minis (wrappers and all) that we had bought for trick or treaters. We had shiny poo in the yard for a week. One Yuletide, I had bought my husband a one pound bag of macadamia nuts (his absolute favorite). I left the bag on the floor, thinking it was trash. Jazzy, during the night, ate the entire bag. Never got sick. I swear her stomach had to be made of steel.
As much as we miss her, 17 is a good age for my special little mutt. She led a good life and was spoiled each and every day.
Now, life is a little off kilter here, but we are moving forward. We are even considering the possibility of adding to our crazy family in the future. 
But for now, things are settled down and I'm back to life in the slow lane. The sun is shining. The snow is gone. Temperatures are beginning to climb. Life in the slow lane isn't all that bad.

I Am So Bad...

I have been so bad about blogging lately. I'm sorry! I could give a million excuses, but they'd be lies. I haven't been blogging because I wasn't sure what to blog about. I mean, my life isn't exactly exciting! So, I thought I'd tell you what has been happening.

I've been working on the edits for The Golden Dragon's Treasure. I've got such awesome people working on it and I'm really focusing on what they'd like to see added/dropped/changed. 

I've also been working on Cedar River series-Book 4. I was trying to finish up one project before beginning another, but Avery wouldn't let me be. He really wanted me to see who Mona is and create her. I had to ask him more than once if he was certain because I was over the moon with his choice. Avery's beautiful Mona is a woman with curves... voluptuous curves. Mona is a size 24 and she is gorgeous. I LOVE that he chose a plus-sized woman! As much as I love Bowie, Adam, and Brady, the Black boys (Avery, Oliver, and Beckett) are my favorites. They all love women with curves! *happy dance*

I've also been bogged down in my algebra. It has my mind spinning and clouding over. When I can concentrate, it seems as if nothing makes sense. I mean, seriously, what will I ever need with point-slope intersect? I think there needs to be a math teacher in one of my books, THEN I may have a use for it :)

I've kind of taken a break from life, in general. I felt like I was running on empty, so I watched stupid television shows, played A LOT of Angry Birds, and let my mind vegetate. I've also been doing a little research and posting to Pinterest. That's where most of my ideas are...my Pinterest boards. Stop by and see my vision for Cedar River. If you're like a few of my friends, you can also ogle the inspiration I use for my characters :)

I promise I will try to blog more and maybe come up with some theme days. Make this spot a little bit more fun! 

An Author's "Second Self"

Me at 4 years of age

I was in my Creative Writing class the other day and my professor was discussing how authors take on a persona when they write, someone they want the world to see. Being the dreamer that I am, my mind wandered and I began to wonder, "Which persona is my author second self?"

I was raised in a family where I was the only girl. I had girl cousins on my dad's side of the family, but I didn't see them too often. I had a cousin on my mom's side who was 6 years older than me, but I mean, she was 6 years older than me. I idolized her, but again, I didn't see her often. I was left to be what everyone thought I should be. What was that you ask? Well, it was many things:

1. I was to act like a girl (ladylike, polite, soft-spoken)

2. I was to dress like a girl (dresses, skirts, fancy shoes, curled hair, make-up)

3. I was raised to be a mom and wife (I wasn't encouraged to dream outside the box)

4. Men only wanted to date girls with long fingernails, long hair, and skinny bodies

There are many more, but you get the idea, right?

For most of my life, I tried to live up to what people expected me to be. Last year, when I published my first book, I dreaded opening up to people. What if they didn't like me? What if I wasn't what they expected?

Then, Tuesday as I sat in class, occurred to me. All of you get to see the REAL me. You get to know the brassy, bitchy, bold side of me. You don't care that I spend the majority of my days behind a computer screen with my hair pulled up and pencils stuck in my hair. You don't care that I wear yoga  pants and holey sweatshirts around my house while I work. You don't care that I'm not a size 2 or that I don't wear make-up unless I go to school. You all get to know me as I truly am. It's the world outside these four walls and people who have known me for all these years who get the "persona".

How sad is it that I've spent 40 years of my life pretending to be someone I'm not? Lucky for me, my husband gets it. He's like all of you...he knows the real me.

Lucky for me, I found all of you :D 
How about you? Do you have a persona that you keep locked away and pull out only when a certain person is around?