I’ve been experiencing much lack of self love from the women in my life that I love lately.   My wife, my friends and sisters, my mentors, my mothers……

As research has shown its in the stars right now and we all need to be humble. its good for us. However, humble doesn’t mean shame and it doesn’t mean lack. Too often when we feel low we seek to belittle others in order to grasp onto a glimpse of egotistical worth.   I challenge us all to not just state but to actually view each other in whatever radiance we ACTUALLY embody.

I recently moved back in with my wife. I have slowly unpacked things as they have become necessary. Finally this weekend I got to the things that I don’t need.   My living space… infused with the smell of great essential oils,  I opened up the happiest part of my wardrobe.  I set out to carefully hang my most favorite pieces after laying them out in exact order on my beautiful new , well chosen, duet cover.  lol  YOu se I’m getting old.   hahaha ive always wanted to have beautiful  things, its in my nature. Yet, other things have been more important. wether it’s that one of the kids needed something important, or perhaps they just wanted something.  Often times a friend or someone in my family needed to pay  bill.   Too often I was just hanging on by my teeth financially and could not afford to meet my own needs and express myself outwardly.

As I unpacked I pulled out my very ultimate absolute favorite creation in the whole of life’s essence….  my black j crew cardigan.   My sister purchased me this cardigan fr my birthday. I had noticed it while we were out shopping once and it was one of the first gifts I had received from a family member where I had pointed it out and expressed my adoration. It was beautiful, well made, soft good material, the perfect shade of black and had subtle trim… it made me feel special to receive this gift.

Strait away I unfolded my yummy cardigan and “AHHHHHH”‘d    ”  Ladies I found my cardigan and I’m telling you now. I’m stripping down to nothing and plan to walk around in this beautiful piece of cloth butt naked for the rest of the evening. Sorry if that bothers anyone but I don’t care!!”

After about 20 minutes my butt felt very exposed (bending over and all) and my old breasts were dangling in my way so I chose to put on a bra and some panties. I did however spend the rest of my evening loving the shit out of my cardigan, my oils, my duvet, the way it all felt on my skin……..

Finally clothes carefully put away, I sat in my space a breathed.  This is my time. The time when  everything is done well with thought states to my internal clock that I have everything handled. nothing has to be rushed = I can do the things that I love. this is when I can feel myself fully. this is when I am at peace.

I helped myself out to my back porch ( yes in my undergarments and my cardigan), smoked what seemed like a ver loooong leisurely cigarette, and smiled at my daughters incessant talking for the first time  in a month.  I had focus and a genuine smile…   I was whole.

As the night came to and end I cleaned up in the bathroom. You know, teeth, oil, lengthy skin check, washed my face, made sure my bobby pins were where they belonged, had the time to wipe out the sink,  and walked to the bedroom to slip into bed with my wife.  As I approached the bed she gave me a calm smile.   Once I laid down she leaned over to me and said, ” You’ve got this old lady thing going on and for some reason it is really doing it for me”. Then, she touched my tummy and smiled at me quite pleased to be next to my granny panties and calm demeanor.   I was like “WTF”??!!   She laughed.

” Carmen,  lots of people are not satisfied with themselves after 30. Lots of people walk around trying to look 20 when they are 40. not accepting that they look 40. Sometimes people want to be what they’re not and it is not appealing.. you walk around in those underwear and an old lady sweater and its sexy.  its like your owning your womanhood, YOUR WOMANHOOD is SEXY! 20 looks good but it doesn’t look like womanhood.”

I’m pretty sure this was the sexiest fucking compliment I have ever received.  And it wasn’t fake.  she didn’t tell me I’m hot.  She didn’t tell me she wanted to fuck.   she took me in and accepted me whole and loved and was excited by what she saw and felt.

believe me.. My granny panties were immediately soaked and they came right off.   If this was her ploy to get me to take those wretched things off… it worked!

My wife doesn’t always feel completely attractive. Like the rest of us, she sometimes judges her looks and abilities by ideas of others. And though, of course, I think she’s beautiful physically.  It is her ability to see in hindsight toward everybody that attracts me the most to her.

I hope we all take the time to honor our bodies and minds and comforts and needs and time and learn to want that for each other. At any age, any social status, any gender….. it is so nice to be loved for what you are.  I challenge all of us to love ourselves right exactly where we are   and then give that to others who should also know the completeness of full self acceptance.  I’m thankful my life has produced people who can do this

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Advertisements

Oh man..   Loved?   Have I ever felt loved?   Goodness, what an arbitrary question. Many times have I felt loved.   Many times has someone released themselves energetically to myself. Many times are they that someone handed me the trust of themselves to share and be accepted. Many conversations have been handed to me where one might trust me with their truth and actions in intent. Many times has someone purchased a gift in my name and presented it to me with heartfelt intent. Many smiles and hugs. Ears listening… while I spew hate and emotion to get it OUT!   OUT!  Many times have I been blessed with an angel carrying a message that I alone needed to hear.  Many times has the universe sent me exactly what I needed to grow. Many questions answered. Many dangerous situations diffused. Many times has goddess sent me exactly what I’ve asked for. Many times I have felt all varieties of love. The amount of graces and acts of love are so many that I couldn’t possibly list or remember them all…….

However, those things never came complete with my acceptance and vulnerability.  I firmly believe that though, in small ways I’ve accepted these act of love, I have not ever fully emmersed myself into the truth of love itself.   Gifts come with opinions and rights. I have just begun to accept me and recognize that I live in fear where love is concerned.  To live in an abstract world where negative and positive are only words used as secondary labels in my love.  The question remains to me.  How can one feel loved? If they have not experienced it themselves, how does one accept love in a mundane sense? and comply with its limits?   I’ve always felt love from others  I’ve always been handed that opposite of fear. But not until recently have I been able to accept love as the concentrated whole that it is.   To accept love fully I would have to be able to look at loves perceived opposite and agree that it makes a whole.. My ego states that this would be ignorant.  Can you imagine all the things I would have to change about myself to accept that there is no negative in the foundation of my life story? That those things are love? AHHHH  makes me want to locate my gun just thinking about it.  I understand this in theory. HA   but in the physical world if you want to hand me something I’m scared of I will go insane on you. I am more willing to make chaos my game than I am for it to make me whole.. I have felt whole love but I have not yet danced with and experienced it… I have no faith….. in my ability to return whole (as love, with love, again ignoring the process)

 

I recently went on a journey to be the love that I believe in. I got cracked wide open. I stood bravely in the face of my own inner fears. What came looked something like The end of ” For Colored Girls”.

Being loved by others while ignoring love in its essence feels like fun. Ive spent many years accepting love from others in the form of gifts and intent…..  but they are different words for a reason.  Intent isn’t love and gifts have another definition of their own. I, in return, gifted and had wonderful intentions for others.

Khalil Gibran, a perceived father of mine, spelled out years ago what love is and what it will do to me.  I had made love my arch nemesis here in this life to avoid anymore pain. I had been unwilling to inflict anymore upon myself and was willing to accept my decision in this matter……   Khalil gave me a choice. I have recently chosen different..  I have chosen to take the ride and I do believe I came out a little more enlightend   but I’m not sure( I get to pay my shrink 300 dollars this afternoon to tell me wether I’m even on the right track.) I have felt loved and it is treacherous and amazing and beautiful.  The truth is, if love is what your experiencing you have no choice but to come back whole. The experience? HAHAHA  what does it feel like? FFFUUUUUUCKKK YOU!

 

“When love beckons to you, follow him,
Though his ways are hard and steep.
And when his wings enfold you yield to him,
Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you.
And when he speaks to you believe in him,
Though his voice may shatter your dreams as the north wind lays waste the garden.
For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning.”

A few sentences later, he hits on the need for vulnerability.
“If in your fear you would seek only love’s peace and love’s pleasure,
Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love’s threshing-floor,
Into the season less world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter and weep, but not all of your tears.
As for finding love, we cannot direct the course.
And think not you can direct the course of love, for love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course.”
As for your desires, turning into vulnerability, Gibran, who echoes Alfred Lord Tennyson’s sentiment when he said ‘Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all,’ writes:
“To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night.
To know the pain of too much tenderness.
To be wounded by your own understanding of love;
And to bleed willingly and joyfully.
To wake at dawn with a winged hear and give thanks for another day of loving.
Love is process, not an outcome.”

Love is not the person loving you but the essence inside of them. When love shows up in another person who, in the end, still wants to hold you and grow with you and all of your ugly is hanging out and you’ve become real, like the velveteen rabbit…. ITs the scariest shit EVER..  I feels a little something like slow death.

 

 

 

 

 

https://www.enneagraminstitute.com/how-the-enneagram-system-works/  http://www.9types.com/rheti/index.php

First, here’s to meanruthie for Challenging me with self awareness as a topic. I am so self aware  HAHAHAH   well, until I take tests that show me myself to my face. Then I’m just Carmen living in a confused version of my own vertical prison. Much love to you. And to my lack of self awareness..

 

I consciously avoided this topic from the moment it was posted. As I read the assignment my eyes got big and my head spinned.  ( is spinned a word?)   DOUBT..  that’s all I’m aware of.

” What kind of bullshit can I come up with that makes me sound like I know what I am all about today?   None.. So, ill just put it off till I can oppose someone else…”

That never happened….

I finally crouched in and made myself not just take this test, but to research it and its intricacies.   TO my complete surprise this test gave me quite the overview.  Myself in a nutshell. My unhealthy self. My healthy self. My unhealthy reactions. How they hinder my progress, and  how I can intercept those actions to integrate into the loop of my higher self. Yes it brought me down even into my spirituality.   AHHHH the road to self actualization

As it sits I am  a frim 8..  8 with nothing following closely. The Leader. This… 100%… I can agree with. This we knew. What I didn’t know was how I lead and how this always causes me to strive for independence and knowledge as well as fearing co dependence and ignorance.

The 8 has wonderful qualities for healing humanity and inspiring change through their action in the world. I’ve always known that this was my job.  Giving people permission to be whoever the fuck they want at their own will. With ” lead by example” as a motto.

However, I will say that, it also explains my line of work and the fight.  HAHAH not to mention many of the issues I run into in relationships.   It also explains how to work within them to make them work.

I think I need to be more aware of my judgment and my narcissism. This is not a fault of all 8s but it’s not hard to see, finally, how I , in lower levels of my type,( when I’m not fulfilled) go to work on others or mistakenly use them to fill my ego, and even perhaps, with partners take their own beautiful characteristics as weakness. When the ” weaknesses ” often , in fact, compliment me perfectly.

Basically when I’m at the top of my vertical lines I’m powerful , unstoppable and a great advocate for empowerment and truth in my peers and partners world. At the bottom I am a controlling obsessive, insecure, violating overachiever looking for kudos.   That is very hard for my ego to swallow!  But its true.  I was stoked to read that these qualities coincide directly with my astrological charting and make perfect sense.  I am, as of right now,  on an immediate path to higher self.  Ive looked for this specific map of me and can clearly see what I need to work on to become what I view as an appropriate 8.

Thankfully, the enneagram shows exactly were to go from there and how to break my fearful circles.  I am appreciative of this opportunity and will write more later when I’m not questioning the fuck out of why I have been such a pompous dick. I really hope every crow takes the hour or so to look into their test and find the charts on the web page.  It was very eye opening to be handed such a clear picture.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Many times in my life I was sad. Ive spent years depressed    years sad.  Sad little strawberry.

As a young woman everyone expressed emotions in my home regularly.

we rarely used words or descriptions. conversations were null and void. My mother would disappear for a week smoking dope and fucking her husband in hotels and lavish Seattle homes of dealers ( the high life). then sleeping it off for three days while us kids figured it out. We would see her at random times  screaming about anything. whether it was because I hadn’t cleaned enough or because she thought my step dad wanted to fuck the girlfriend I had over for the evening she would just scream and spit and choke people.  My step dad expressed his emotions by  Playing guitar loudly through the nights and beating my moms ass when she offended him by accusing him of mis stepping. Surely she was off her rocker!!.  ( because it wasn’t my girlfriend he was fucking it was me.)

My family expressed emotion as long as it could be felt DEEPLY.  it was normal for us to fight.  I remember blackening my baby sisters eye for not cleaning the bathroom properly .  I remember the hurt look in her eyes.  she said, ” I thought that you loved me” then she cried and went to tell someone safe, an adult, who looked at me and said, ‘ nice right hook!”.   the ” adult” agreed with my actions.  Afterall mom ( his girlfriend)  was gone and somebody had to clean the house. with 4 kids in it she would freak had I not kept everyone in line.

. I felt right…

I was pissed.

a few hours earlier my moms cousin had had me pinned in my bed with a syringe in hand insisting I fuck him for my moms fix. I had run into the living room and sat down on the couch behind her while she watched cartoons hoping he would leave me alone.   he sat next to me and whispered in my ear. ”  If you say anything to me now your sister will see what I’m doing to you.”  he slipped his hands down the back of my pants and finger fucked me. stating that if I sat still she wouldn’t have to see.

he expressed his emotion while I took it in. I let him do what he wanted so the baby didn’t have to be exposed.

Of course later when she couldn’t just clean the bathroom like I asked…. I acted out…. rarely were real emotions expressed.. Anger, rage, control……

lets get to the point

there was no room for crying then. and after years of crying and yelling around as an adult I realized I was just like my mother.  I cry by myself now in my own presence  where I am safe.    I cry   when there is time and it usually doesn’t take long.       I also tend to cry with people when they have stories similar to mine, when they need permission to be sullen before we build a fortress.

I have no depression. nobody makes me do anything I don’t want to.  I enjoy my tears they keep me from making bad decisions and blackening the eyes of those whos heart would break knowing that my love can sometimes be dark.   I love to take my space and cry alone. I enjoy my sadness when i get to have it for myself  and turn it into what makes me strong. I use it to jog, workout, do better in my work , make plans , travel, be happier than what I was handed and to see the good in everything I live for now.

there isn’t much to be sad about  anymore.

I sat reading my horoscope last week. Being relieved to read that it’s in the stars and ok that I have not yet found myself in the cold ,deep ,dark of the self.  I remembered almost suddenly that feeling  I need and worried. “How can I make myself experience this dark night of the soul? That sweet relieving feeling just before I release it for the coming year?”

As I woke the eve of the eve. Just a light spread over and I realized my intention without ritual, had been answered.  That day my anger was present but it was a laughable little anger. The  anger my partner had stated to me in a laughing smile for over 3 months. I texted her immediately.  “I owe you an apology.   I am so sorry ive allowed others to decide who i am and how I relate to you ”   she thanked me , of course, as real queens do when you’ve really done nothing for them and they have patiently waited for you to catch up.

I was met with love when I returned home.   A clean house, a well heated bathroom with the hot bath set, candles, the best washcloth in the house, the good razor, good shampoo was brought, cashmere robe, tea was warm and optional,  and a hot americano….all waiting.   The house was empty……ahhh my bedroom smelled like cinnamon…..  A note in the phone stated there was water in the freezer and to please drink it…

This was all in preparation for a noon massage from a woman I was gifted who could only be described as an earth goddess. The woman danced around my body wisking away  loads of yuck… as she pushed the blackness from my body she related and reminded me where I wanted to be with smells in the air  and contours in her face when I was brave enough to peek up at her work. My wife sent me to the most beautiful woman she knew to clean me up  on a Sunday afternoon. On the eve of this new year. I went home sick as fuck. Was put back to bed, fed whatever I opened my mouth to ask for and allowed to sleep or wake throughout the night without any complaints or disruption….  Surely, I have chosen my best friend.   This woman knows  what’s best for me.  I was thankful.

I woke early on the morning of the new year.  About 4 Am ( i think)   my wife, my best friend, turns toward me slowly…  “we didn’t make it to the water to be with the moon like you wanted. Should we go now?”

“Yes, if your willing”

We promptly set out to bundle up. Into the car and being our awkward selves fumbeled about around what water was best and setteled on the idea that to go to them all would suffice.   As we pulled up to salt creek her voice became quiet and my mother spoke .   How blessed I was to hear her immediately! The mother earth lulled me in with her song and assured me she had her message waiting.  I was immediately  comforted.

My wife took her space back by the rocks.  And I was let to do what I needed. It had been moths since I asked properly to have my struggles and questions answered.  The wind. The trees. Their perfect placement, how playful.  The water across the way.  The moon .   My mother, my brothers and sisters harmonizing the truth to me in Whimsical statements. AHHHHH I love you!!   ” look around, your the only one not joining in.” The chaos was big the waves sounded over here the trees talking behind me.  The rocks so loudly still. The vibration of it all! And here I am fighting it.   She whispered,” do not fear what noise others make. Just make sure you are singing your mothers song”.    My tribe is of earth warriors. Fiercely fighting for her ways.  Perhaps I got lost and have forgotten what side I’m on.   She sang,”we prefer that you sing with us”….” of course they want to ruin but you know they cant hurt you,and SHE surely wont try. Lol Carmen they can’t fuck with you as you so angrily say” like a baptism inside of a lotus I am clean… ready to fight with the dance…

Eyes closed. Black gone.
I walk back to my partner. She spins tales of being one with the universe. And mentions fear and hate.  We have this conversation all the way home. And she reminds me who I am.

We spent that day  playing like 5 year olds, and cooking like mothers. We cleaned like medicine women,danced like warriors, and fucked like animals.

Last night after we were all snuggled into the night. She smiled at me  cuddled into my arms,looked up and whispered,”Your my best friend”

I just want to thank my mother for reminding me that to dance with her is to really live.  And my partner who will feed me what I need…  I plan to thank them fiercely…

As Yule approaches im faced with my last years reality and wounds that have resurfaced.  I thank the Goddess for the opportunity to admit that I am not yet healed and also to recognize that a healing is necessary but not so much that I have to reshape my paradigm. In years passed i have completely broken and started from scratch.

I was told that I was angry and yes, I was.  I was told though that it was something that needed to be healed.   I do not find this to be true.  I stated my limits and what was healthy for me. Then I was told I was not allowed them.

 This was a lie on my other halves part due to her own fears. I am allowed my limits and when I am told I have a worth that is less than a right to my own safety I get angry. The truth is I placed myself and my family in a position to be mistreated  in order to obtain love from a potential partner.

My partners’ family judged my love, my writing, my feelings, and my heart because they could not recognize my humor. They could not see the validation that their family member was receiving. They did not want her to feel the importance I was handing to her……. I wonder why they would be so disgusted by her rise.   The rise to importance no less.

 While calling me names and commanding that I was dangerous they were promoting their own idea of love.  The limiting love that they had handed her and themselves.  People who don’t want to grow want you to join them in their stagnancy.  I am aware that what I offered looked foolish to them.  How sad they must be in an existence where self-importance is dangerous. In a world where being openly loved is an embarrassment, being appreciated extravagantly is shameful, and showing a glowing thankfulness for sheer happiness in one’s life should cause guilt.  My partner was in danger of being no less than fucking fabulous and her family might realize that they handed her a shitty deal.  That is scary shit.

I am dangerous… But only to those who would have her submit to a self-worth that is just shy of tolerable. To those who would be pleased to limit her to a life of depression for the sake of not having to look at a picture painted by a matriarch who falls short in creative art.

Years ago I relieved myself of my own mothers images of me. Which unfortunately were really her own. I was on a mission to explore what kinds of love were out there.  I was limited.   As we know my mother had no choice but to create me in her image. Like the limited God she knew my mother had no idea that a matriarch / goddess/ creator can create in any image.  She treated me how she felt about herself and to my souls dismay there was no self to educate.

I walked away but I never handed her my truth. And today I see my anger rise as im being judged by others about loving in my view.  I lack control.   people are suddenly allowed to overstep my boundaries and im somehow expected to stay calm…..  And not try to change that.  I’ve done my homework i’ve explored and accepted my faults.  I have no progress in stifling another’s growth so, why am I the bad guy?

I didn’t hand my mother back her shit i accept that people can treat me how they feel justified to ….I own this…  This feeling I have about being judged by people who have no clue is nothing but a projection of them, and quite frankly, allowed only by my acceptance that I may be deserving of ridicule.  That’s my mother.  She loved to ridicule me when she was the one who agreed we were worth nothing but the pain she allowed…… not on purpose but , as usual, by her own lack of self love…..

  I was careful with my love.   I accepted my partner’s fears and faults and agreed to work with her on them.  That was my love for her. Only my mother’s belief that I have no right to be GOOD makes me question my heart

So, for Yule this year I will begin by getting rid of her idea about what my worth is, for real, by handing it back to her personally and in writing. May it begin my cycle of recognizing who is good for me and standing by it……..without allowing anyone, ever again, to shake my reality and will.  I intend to love fully

It’s been a long year of turmoil and happiness and somewhere in my mess I’ve forgotten my purpose.

  https://www.facebook.com/goalcast/videos/1605366899540494

 I seem to have forgotten what I live for.  And this woman’s testimony is my life’s purpose.

When I was 27 I was broken. I had just had my second child with my best friend. He was my world. We were going to do this right. We loved each other. We fought and supported each other. We were driven toward each other. One day (when my newborn was 3 days old) I was confronted with my biggest fear ever. My step daughter, my partners biological daughter informed me that she had been sexually abused by her dad. She was descriptive and focused. I’m a sexual woman but the things I heard made me blush. All the anger and hate I had for my mother came rushing into my body…. I was RED…… and just like that my world fell apart.  I had to protect this baby, myself, and my daughters from this man, my best friend.

I was broken … two of my children removed from my home. Left to deal with two kids, no job, no friend, and no mind to hold onto…… I had to face him and the people who didn’t believe her.  I was spit on… literally. Confronted by my own family, questioned by police about what reasons I might have to make this story up, or the little girl who he used, perhaps she was lying. My mothering abilities were questioned by my ex-husband. He threatened to try my ability in court and take my oldest daughter from me for relying on someone so dangerous. I had a seven year old who was angry with her sister for ruining our family because I couldn’t explain in detail why my partner was wrong .and honestly, to top it all off, somewhere deep down I missed my friend…. 24 hours……  is what time I had to make all the right decisions.   And I failed.

I was broken but I did what I could…   I traded my ability to put on shoes for the act of breathing. I traded my ability to fight for me for nursing my new baby…    I traded my worth for everyone else’s. And though it was right… it broke me. I remember seeing a shrink for a week. I told her I was fine. Lol I lied if I said I was broken I would have fallen apart.

Three years later I was made a visit to my lpn.  I was having these chest pains. I would shake in public, I couldn’t focus and I cried erratically at very inappropriate times.  I was alone. Nobody loved a woman like me.  I sometimes still could not do dishes.  When we spoke he got right down deep with me. He stated that I had no physical problems.  They were all internal and he wasn’t taking a blood test.  He said,” Carmen hold my hand”.

 I did.

 He got in my face looked deep in my eyes a came very close to me and said, “I want you to look at me like you want me and tell me”.

 I was nervous, but made it happen in an awkward, “I want you “my eyes did most of the talking.

He smiled sadly, shook his head and asked,” Why, if you don’t want me, didn’t you tell me no?”

I smiled, thanking the goddess that he didn’t really want to fuck, and told him it wasn’t worth my fight.

He openly asked me if saying “no” meant I had to fight for it.

 And I just teared up.  I did not have the ability to say no. No meant conversation and explanation. I couldn’t say no to anyone, even if it meant my body was to be used, unless there was a fight.  I said, “Yes, I didn’t want to yell at you or hit you in the face so I just did it”

“Carmen, you need to understand your worth as a woman. What is intrinsically yours as a right? You don’t have to hit me or explain. You don’t have to make excuses for why you don’t want what I want.”  Then he said,” you always smile. Smile at me, move my hand and say NO”

We talked for quite a while about my stress. WE discussed how I had so much to do and I was hurt and how I felt guilty when I couldn’t handle everything. He stated that I needed to take time for what makes me smile and that I needed space to hold for myself and that starts with “no”.  No, I won’t help you with your funds, no, I won’t go grab you this, no, and I do not want to discuss what you think I should do at this time. NO, you cannot stay up late. No, I will not watch your child, I do not care to have dinner. No, I do not want to fuck.   At the end of the appointment he handed me a prescription. I had already stated that I did not want any pills! Why wasn’t he listening!!?

The script read, “RELEASE YOUR INNER BITCH” around the outside. In the middle was a big huge “N O!” He told me I was to yell and scream and say NO to whomever and for however long it took me to just say it like Carmen would when she’s confident that she is worth her chosen actions. When Carmen does not feel guilty anymore.

He said, “Tell your friends and family that when they see this on your front door it means they are entering at their own risk. They are at fault if they don’t like your no. then make sure you say it. When you know your worth they will too. You won’t have to get mad you will respect yourself and those who don’t will go away”

Today my whole self is my right. Nobody gets an explanation unless I deem them worthy of one. I don’t have anxiety attacks anymore. I am not depressed, slow, self-loathing or a victim.  I’m Carmen right where the fuck I need to be.

In all my chaos I’ve forgotten my self-worth. I’ve quit taking time for me and have succumbed to explaining myself to people who don’t know me or care to understand.  These people, just like in my past have decided that they know better than I, and tell me what my intentions, limits, and goals are. And I listened.

Perhaps I need another script.

Peggy wrote a document on jealousy and as I read I t I was thankful due to the fact that I am currently experiencing this phenomenon.    I have to be real and in the scheme of things I realize that as a rule im not jealous.  I do everything in my power to make sure I’m not in a position to be jealous. However, I was talking to my therapist last night and ………….. even where there is self talk, rationalization, logic and the truth, jealousy and its venom are always an option and sometimes makes room for itself in the beast when your attached to something.

I needed an explanation.

She stated to me that love is messy. That’s what it is… by definition.  Its actually, healing, but it manifests as messy.  You open yourself up to something you believe might be worth your truth. And the truth does come.   Making love is no longer just a hobby and you want them to know everything about you and the truth does come…… I am an ignorant woman and stick firm to the idea that love means somebody giving me what I want. And when that doesn’t happen…….  Shit blows up.  I’m scared, I’m angry I take my love back and love is something I define as a problem or a rub-ix cube… unsolvable.   I’ve never been very mathematical. “ I didn’t sign up for this problem.”  “I can’t love someone if I’m experiencing this feeling.”   “ how can I show love to someone who makes me weak enough to express something as disgusting as jealousy!?”   I was discussing my argument with my jealousy to my last boyfriend a month back and he laughed, “ You’re an intelligent woman Carmen….  I know your so committed to living a life in the light but you fail to allow yourself to be human”   So , I have to explore this .   To be human is to be jealous?  I still cannot accept this ….

I SUPPOSE that to be human is to experience all emotion since emotion is human. I can accept that to have emotion is human..

I took my day today to sit inside my jealousy and be a functional mother, employee, partner, and patient………. As it turns out I was right. To be emotional is human. And Jealousy only lasted a couple hours.   Through my jealousy, I learned that I love, I want, and also that I can function while I’m “not myself”. It is ok for me to be jealous .. Until I’m not anymore then I can be something else   something more like what I want to show the world.  Without this jealousy I can’t, for now anyway, really love.

I was small.   Coincidentally, I was less heavy. Small is light.  I didn’t have to intimidate anyone. I had more fun. I wasn’t responsible for anyone but me. Me exactly how I am. To be human is to be free.   I told people how I felt. They still smiled at me. I got to make jokes about myself again.  To be human is to be funny.   Coincidentally I got more done yesterday than I have any day in months.   It got done well.  My ego did not have to save the day.

I have a new idea.   To express jealousy to people who might share what your ego is saying through your mouth while jealousy has you on lock is not an option.  Id hate for the people I was jealous of to have to hear my limiting labels about themselves. Especially since two hours later the truth of the matter expresses itself……  thankfully my people can hear my jealousy and let it be mine….

Relaxing, to me, is a set up.

For me to relax I feel I need to get everything done.I relax often by taking a bath or by going on a trip, but the reality is that unless I just put my face into the fire and handle what needs to be done, I can’t.Truth be told.To relax I must…

Do the dishes. I can’t stand having dishes in my sink.It notes to me that I am so far off my house game that my life is falling apart.Once the dishes are finally done I can see my kitchen. I want to mop my floors by hand and make sure there is no dust on the trim around my counter tops. Then I can light a candle, grab some cold water, and make my way back to the living room.

Hahaha, oh but before we discuss the ending,let’s talk about where it starts. Laundry. I can’t even get to the living room until my bedroom is dusted and the laundry is started and at least one load of items has been hung to dry.Only then can I clean my tub well and make sure the faucet handles and mirrors are shiny.

Once this is done I can dust the living room and re-situate the books Heaven misplaced while listening to some great music. Vacuuming is one of my favorite things to do before I spray all my furniture with my newest creative rosemary blend with some sort of other fruity scented water and then: The dishes.

Relaxing takes hours….

Once I’m done with the dishes I’ll usually run a hot bath in my newly cleaned tub and settle down with a book. Finally, naked and clean and alone I can plan my next jog, finally think about a to do list and write down some new goals, make a new schedule and a plan of action,then its relax time….

Dinner with a friend, gifting someone an evening out. Having a good conversation. And coming home to an empty house with not one mess except the lighter next to my candles waiting to be re-lit. And a good book with some warm jammies and the time to follow through with the days plans tomorrow because everything is done.

That is relaxing to me. About twice a year I become over full. At these junctures, relaxing means Cali or Mexico. Lots of misbehaving and other things that don’t get talked about for the sake of release and a new structure. To remember I’m a person and shake off all the funk that Windex can’t quite get to…