I was once obsessed with your potential...I was unhealthy and addicted to what you could offer me. Yesterday damaged me so viciously that you became my hope for love, life, and purpose. I know now that I managed to mistreat you, in advance.
I over-analyzed every day dream, stripped every fantasy, and hassled every opportunity until I nearly destroyed any hope of ever seeing and experiencing you.
There is so much that I'm certain you will offer...so much joy that I will find in your sunrise. But for now, I'd like to just make peace with the reality that this day is just as important as you are to me.
I have headaches often, because I yearn to be with you. For some reason, I've convinced myself that you will fix everything. But I'm learning now that my frame of mind has been hindering me from thoroughly enjoying each moment of my life.
I love you. But I have to stop thinking about you so much...I need space to live for today.
I hope you'll understand.
NNL
___
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Sunday, April 17, 2011
I'm in Love.
...I waited 24 years for a love like yours. The kind of love that takes a shattered heart and utilizes kisses as the glue to peice me back together. Your love, so innocent and kind...so rich and sincere, made me new.
I remember searching every embrace, every compliment, and every friendship for a love like this love. I remember giving myself to those who never knew how to treat me or hold me. I remember laying where I wasn't adored and accepting what should've been unacceptable. I was, indeed, lost. I was as empty as those I surrounded myself with...as confused as those I looked to for advice.
Before I gave my heart to you and asked you to mend me, I placed it in the care of every thief, conman, gambler, pimp, and womanizer that I encountered. I wasn't only stupid, I was arrogant AND stupid. I knew everything and nothing at all. My feelings were easily heart and my ego easily bruised. When I felt insulted, I turned to my addictions. When I felt neglected, I sought refuge in arms that weren't shaped to hold me. When people attacked my character, I gave them more reasons to hate me and to ridicule me.
Yes. Before I let you love me viciously...I was a stray dog looking for affection in every alley. I was a mess, dressed in the finest fabrics. Name brands served as my shade from the heat of your hunt. I didn't want to be found. I didn't want to be saved. I thrived on the fact that I needed no one. I was filthy. I was everything they said I was...and worse.
But now...I am perfected in your grace. You helped me realize that because of your love, I am a new creature. I, in the purest form, am an awesome reflection of you. Even on my worst days, your love and mercy endures and supplements what I am not...what I don't have to give. You live and breathe and speak for me when I am too weak to utter anything but hate and complaints.
I am in love. For the first time in 24 years, I found everything that I've been looking for...you are: patient and kind and you keep no record of my wrongs. There's no envy here, no ego, and no anger. Everything I hoped to find in anyone whose path crossed with mine...
I finally found in you.
Thank you, Jesus, for purifying me. Thank you for taking my sins and using them as the wood in the furnace of my spirit. I am on fire for you, ready to change this world, because if you can wash me and set me free...I am convinced that you can help anybody.
(1 Corinthians 13)
I remember searching every embrace, every compliment, and every friendship for a love like this love. I remember giving myself to those who never knew how to treat me or hold me. I remember laying where I wasn't adored and accepting what should've been unacceptable. I was, indeed, lost. I was as empty as those I surrounded myself with...as confused as those I looked to for advice.
Before I gave my heart to you and asked you to mend me, I placed it in the care of every thief, conman, gambler, pimp, and womanizer that I encountered. I wasn't only stupid, I was arrogant AND stupid. I knew everything and nothing at all. My feelings were easily heart and my ego easily bruised. When I felt insulted, I turned to my addictions. When I felt neglected, I sought refuge in arms that weren't shaped to hold me. When people attacked my character, I gave them more reasons to hate me and to ridicule me.
Yes. Before I let you love me viciously...I was a stray dog looking for affection in every alley. I was a mess, dressed in the finest fabrics. Name brands served as my shade from the heat of your hunt. I didn't want to be found. I didn't want to be saved. I thrived on the fact that I needed no one. I was filthy. I was everything they said I was...and worse.
But now...I am perfected in your grace. You helped me realize that because of your love, I am a new creature. I, in the purest form, am an awesome reflection of you. Even on my worst days, your love and mercy endures and supplements what I am not...what I don't have to give. You live and breathe and speak for me when I am too weak to utter anything but hate and complaints.
I am in love. For the first time in 24 years, I found everything that I've been looking for...you are: patient and kind and you keep no record of my wrongs. There's no envy here, no ego, and no anger. Everything I hoped to find in anyone whose path crossed with mine...
I finally found in you.
Thank you, Jesus, for purifying me. Thank you for taking my sins and using them as the wood in the furnace of my spirit. I am on fire for you, ready to change this world, because if you can wash me and set me free...I am convinced that you can help anybody.
(1 Corinthians 13)
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
I Should Hate Men. But I Don't.
_____________________________
STATISTICS PROVE THAT MOST WOMEN WHO HAVE NEVER BEEN MARRIED WERE RAISED IN HOMES WITHOUT FATHERS OR IN HOMES WHERE THE FATHER LEFT DURING EARLY-CHILDHOOD (BETWEEN AGES 4-12).
When I was 2 years old, my biological father left us (not an unusual story among black American families in 1988). My mama did what any amazing, selfless mother would do; she decided to raise me with all the love she could muster up to give me in spite of her own brokenness.
When I was 4 years old, my father decided he wanted to be a parent again. (How convenient). The struggle between my parents involved the court system and due to circumstances I’m not aware of…my father was granted full custody. So on a gorgeous spring day in 1990, three men in black suits showed up to my daycare center and announced that they would be removing me from my serene environment and dropping me off at the LAX airport. From there, I’d be flying to Texas where I would start a new, terrifying life with my father and his wife.
I was taken (during naptime) from my small, safe world and my mother who I loved more than my own existence. During the 8 months I spent with my father, I remember being beaten for refusing to call his wife ‘mom’ and being beaten constantly for pee-ing the bed. I ate frozen meals every day, 2x a day. Because my hair was thick and wild, my father’s wife simply refused to comb it and it started falling out in to my little hands. I didn’t hear my mother’s voice for 8 months. I cried every night. To this day, I remember the sting of that pain.
Eventually, my father gave up on trying to raise me. He’d found some new woman who didn’t want to be bothered with kids (thank God) and he mailed me back to my mother. I remember him taking me to the airport and telling me we were going on a trip, but once we arrived…he told me I’d be flying “home” by myself. Once I boarded the plane, I wept until I fell asleep. Though I wasn’t treated well during my time with my father, I was a child and I was terrified of change.
I remember getting off the plane, in California, and with arms outstretched and tears brimming in my big eyes….I ran to my mother. I remember her face and her smell. She was perfect. She took me home to a 1-bedroom apartment that smelled like everything amazing. My bed was overflowing with teddy bears and dolls. My closet was brimming with new clothes. My mama loved me so much. She sacrificed so much to get me back and, to this day, she tells me that the time we spent apart is the sole reason that she has so much faith in God. The moment she held me, my pain faded.
It wasn’t until 2004, when she let me go…let me grow up and discover the world on my own, that the pain returned. I started dating at 18 years old. When I was in my mother’s house, dating was simply not an option. I didn’t try to sneak boys in the house like most of my friends did…not because I was so holy or admirable…but because I was scared for my life. My mama told me that she would (literally) kill me if she caught me entertaining some boy in her house.
So when I got to UNC-Greensboro…the floodgates of curiously flew off the hinges. Though I managed to maintain honors status and tried to better the community, I partied hard and discovered a fresh obsession with attention from men. Though the pain I experienced from being abandoned by my father at age 4 was suppressed during my childhood, it was boiling within me waiting to overflow once I left my mother’s nest. When I got to college, I experienced a loneliness that I’d never known. I spent six years (2004-2010) trying to marry everybody who winked at me. I thought that marriage would repair me and fill the holes from childhood. I thought that if someone wanted to love me, I could heal from the pain of being unwanted by my own father. The sad truth is- I didn’t even understand my reckless collegiate actions until I recently took time to heal and say goodbye to my past. As a teen, when friends asked me if I missed my biological father or wanted to find him, I would just laugh and tell them that all I wanted from him was a big check and a Range Rover.
I really thought I was unaffected by his absence. But the truth is-I was broken and confused. Many of us are so convinced that we are not damaged by issues that took place in our households during childhood. We think that living recklessly or lying in the beds of men who will never love us or spending time with people who cannot make us better…just comes with the territory for our generation.
I’d like to use my story as a reality check. I lead a very fortunate, plush life. I’ve never had to ask twice for anything. My mom and my Dad have consistently blessed my life in spite of poor decisions and a trifling mentality about hard work and independence. They love and support me. Though my dad is technically my “step-father” he’s been a father to me since the day we met. I’m honored to call him dad.
Simply put, my life is a miracle.
HOWEVER, none of the luxuries or popularity or opportunities saved me from the hell that was waiting for me once I moved out of my mother’s house. My childhood insecurities resurfaced and every morsel of pain reintroduced itself…I was (once again) scarred from abandonment and neglect. And quite frankly, I barely survived college. I was trying to survive, on my own, in a world full of men who have no intention to be Mr. Right but stay ready to be Mr. Right-Now.
Now that I'm on the other side of my nightmare, I’ve dedicated my life to helping other young women who “think” they are confident and capable…but may not be ready for the attacks that accompany independence.
My life is my testimony and I’m grateful for every ounce of pain I’ve experienced. I’ve turned that pain in to praise…and I’m ready to save lives.
NNL
STATISTICS PROVE THAT MOST WOMEN WHO HAVE NEVER BEEN MARRIED WERE RAISED IN HOMES WITHOUT FATHERS OR IN HOMES WHERE THE FATHER LEFT DURING EARLY-CHILDHOOD (BETWEEN AGES 4-12).
When I was 2 years old, my biological father left us (not an unusual story among black American families in 1988). My mama did what any amazing, selfless mother would do; she decided to raise me with all the love she could muster up to give me in spite of her own brokenness.
When I was 4 years old, my father decided he wanted to be a parent again. (How convenient). The struggle between my parents involved the court system and due to circumstances I’m not aware of…my father was granted full custody. So on a gorgeous spring day in 1990, three men in black suits showed up to my daycare center and announced that they would be removing me from my serene environment and dropping me off at the LAX airport. From there, I’d be flying to Texas where I would start a new, terrifying life with my father and his wife.
I was taken (during naptime) from my small, safe world and my mother who I loved more than my own existence. During the 8 months I spent with my father, I remember being beaten for refusing to call his wife ‘mom’ and being beaten constantly for pee-ing the bed. I ate frozen meals every day, 2x a day. Because my hair was thick and wild, my father’s wife simply refused to comb it and it started falling out in to my little hands. I didn’t hear my mother’s voice for 8 months. I cried every night. To this day, I remember the sting of that pain.
Eventually, my father gave up on trying to raise me. He’d found some new woman who didn’t want to be bothered with kids (thank God) and he mailed me back to my mother. I remember him taking me to the airport and telling me we were going on a trip, but once we arrived…he told me I’d be flying “home” by myself. Once I boarded the plane, I wept until I fell asleep. Though I wasn’t treated well during my time with my father, I was a child and I was terrified of change.
I remember getting off the plane, in California, and with arms outstretched and tears brimming in my big eyes….I ran to my mother. I remember her face and her smell. She was perfect. She took me home to a 1-bedroom apartment that smelled like everything amazing. My bed was overflowing with teddy bears and dolls. My closet was brimming with new clothes. My mama loved me so much. She sacrificed so much to get me back and, to this day, she tells me that the time we spent apart is the sole reason that she has so much faith in God. The moment she held me, my pain faded.
It wasn’t until 2004, when she let me go…let me grow up and discover the world on my own, that the pain returned. I started dating at 18 years old. When I was in my mother’s house, dating was simply not an option. I didn’t try to sneak boys in the house like most of my friends did…not because I was so holy or admirable…but because I was scared for my life. My mama told me that she would (literally) kill me if she caught me entertaining some boy in her house.
So when I got to UNC-Greensboro…the floodgates of curiously flew off the hinges. Though I managed to maintain honors status and tried to better the community, I partied hard and discovered a fresh obsession with attention from men. Though the pain I experienced from being abandoned by my father at age 4 was suppressed during my childhood, it was boiling within me waiting to overflow once I left my mother’s nest. When I got to college, I experienced a loneliness that I’d never known. I spent six years (2004-2010) trying to marry everybody who winked at me. I thought that marriage would repair me and fill the holes from childhood. I thought that if someone wanted to love me, I could heal from the pain of being unwanted by my own father. The sad truth is- I didn’t even understand my reckless collegiate actions until I recently took time to heal and say goodbye to my past. As a teen, when friends asked me if I missed my biological father or wanted to find him, I would just laugh and tell them that all I wanted from him was a big check and a Range Rover.
I really thought I was unaffected by his absence. But the truth is-I was broken and confused. Many of us are so convinced that we are not damaged by issues that took place in our households during childhood. We think that living recklessly or lying in the beds of men who will never love us or spending time with people who cannot make us better…just comes with the territory for our generation.
I’d like to use my story as a reality check. I lead a very fortunate, plush life. I’ve never had to ask twice for anything. My mom and my Dad have consistently blessed my life in spite of poor decisions and a trifling mentality about hard work and independence. They love and support me. Though my dad is technically my “step-father” he’s been a father to me since the day we met. I’m honored to call him dad.
Simply put, my life is a miracle.
HOWEVER, none of the luxuries or popularity or opportunities saved me from the hell that was waiting for me once I moved out of my mother’s house. My childhood insecurities resurfaced and every morsel of pain reintroduced itself…I was (once again) scarred from abandonment and neglect. And quite frankly, I barely survived college. I was trying to survive, on my own, in a world full of men who have no intention to be Mr. Right but stay ready to be Mr. Right-Now.
Now that I'm on the other side of my nightmare, I’ve dedicated my life to helping other young women who “think” they are confident and capable…but may not be ready for the attacks that accompany independence.
My life is my testimony and I’m grateful for every ounce of pain I’ve experienced. I’ve turned that pain in to praise…and I’m ready to save lives.
NNL
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Love Your Man Right…Or I Will. (Part II)
I watched a slice of the show Divorce Court recently. The husband and wife “on trial” were the typical guests on this popular reality show…they were African-American, seemingly uneducated, financially unstable, and ignorant. I’m no fan of the show because I don’t endorse or entertain the idea of divorce. In the fantasy land where I choose to dwell, two people marry and they never give up on each other.
In America, however, where 51% of marriages fail…divorce is a very real issue.
On this particular episode, the wife boasts that she wants a divorce because her husband “is too nice”. (Yes. You read that right. She couldn’t tolerate his kindness).
As I watched the video, my chest tightened and my eyes watered. Many of my friends found the scene comical, but I was broken after watching two adults who had clearly been through a fair share of difficulties in life…abandon each other because of ignorance and low standards. The video inspired me to do what I do best. Today, I want to utilize reality to raise awareness about the pathetic nature of insecure women.
Disclaimer: I’m going to be more straight-forward than ever.
Today’s Topic: Most women don’t want someone to love. Most are determined to find someone to fix...
(the more damaged/abusive/neglectful the man is…the better).
I am increasingly disgusted with the female population on this planet. I admit I am a woman, always will be one and I celebrate femininity every day. But, as I mature and meet new people, I realize that most women are good at two things:
1)Complaining about what men don’t do right
2)Searching for unqualified men to get in relationships with…
so that they’ll be able to complain about what men don’t do right
I just can’t handle it anymore. What are we really searching for? What is it that we really want? Having someone to love is an honor and a privilege reserved for a very small population in today’s society. If you have someone who wants to be faithful to you, wants to treat you like a queen, wants to raise children with you, and aims to be the best man he can be…why search for something to complain about or something to fix?
Let’s just be real. Most women are looking for men who reflect their self-esteem. That’s the problem. On the surface, a woman may be financially stable-fashionable-and socially advanced…but internally she is insecure and awkward. So, until she is able to find a man who is also insecure and awkward (plus abusive, greedy, neglectful and unfaithful)…she feels incomplete.
At the end of the day, we all want to be with our equals. So no matter how successful a woman seems-if she hates herself, she is going to want to be abused. She’s going to want someone to talk to her and treat her like she treats herself…like the crap on the bottom of someone’s yard shoes.
I need to tell it like it is, if we-as women-keep searching for familiar, comfortable relationships rather than a mature commitment, we are going to keep hunting for the wrong mates. Women weren’t designed to hunt. But you can believe that there are some dogs out there waiting to be caught by desperate women who aren’t satisfied with the high caliber of men who DO know how to pursue good women.
Real women are not out here searching and trying to find love in everybody’s bed/night club. A real woman believes that love is awesome and unusual. So when love finds her…there is no time to nit-pick about all the things that a good man, is not.
She is not immature or foolish enough to wish that a man would be more abusive (like her father was)…or more neglectful (like her first boyfriend was). A real woman isn’t in search of everything typical. She is ready for the man who will love her and treat her like the queen that SHE KNOWS she is…
In America, however, where 51% of marriages fail…divorce is a very real issue.
On this particular episode, the wife boasts that she wants a divorce because her husband “is too nice”. (Yes. You read that right. She couldn’t tolerate his kindness).
As I watched the video, my chest tightened and my eyes watered. Many of my friends found the scene comical, but I was broken after watching two adults who had clearly been through a fair share of difficulties in life…abandon each other because of ignorance and low standards. The video inspired me to do what I do best. Today, I want to utilize reality to raise awareness about the pathetic nature of insecure women.
Disclaimer: I’m going to be more straight-forward than ever.
Today’s Topic: Most women don’t want someone to love. Most are determined to find someone to fix...
(the more damaged/abusive/neglectful the man is…the better).
I am increasingly disgusted with the female population on this planet. I admit I am a woman, always will be one and I celebrate femininity every day. But, as I mature and meet new people, I realize that most women are good at two things:
1)Complaining about what men don’t do right
2)Searching for unqualified men to get in relationships with…
so that they’ll be able to complain about what men don’t do right
I just can’t handle it anymore. What are we really searching for? What is it that we really want? Having someone to love is an honor and a privilege reserved for a very small population in today’s society. If you have someone who wants to be faithful to you, wants to treat you like a queen, wants to raise children with you, and aims to be the best man he can be…why search for something to complain about or something to fix?
Let’s just be real. Most women are looking for men who reflect their self-esteem. That’s the problem. On the surface, a woman may be financially stable-fashionable-and socially advanced…but internally she is insecure and awkward. So, until she is able to find a man who is also insecure and awkward (plus abusive, greedy, neglectful and unfaithful)…she feels incomplete.
At the end of the day, we all want to be with our equals. So no matter how successful a woman seems-if she hates herself, she is going to want to be abused. She’s going to want someone to talk to her and treat her like she treats herself…like the crap on the bottom of someone’s yard shoes.
I need to tell it like it is, if we-as women-keep searching for familiar, comfortable relationships rather than a mature commitment, we are going to keep hunting for the wrong mates. Women weren’t designed to hunt. But you can believe that there are some dogs out there waiting to be caught by desperate women who aren’t satisfied with the high caliber of men who DO know how to pursue good women.
Real women are not out here searching and trying to find love in everybody’s bed/night club. A real woman believes that love is awesome and unusual. So when love finds her…there is no time to nit-pick about all the things that a good man, is not.
She is not immature or foolish enough to wish that a man would be more abusive (like her father was)…or more neglectful (like her first boyfriend was). A real woman isn’t in search of everything typical. She is ready for the man who will love her and treat her like the queen that SHE KNOWS she is…
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