Stream of consciousness ramble.

it’s much easier for me to talk to virtual strangers about things than it is to talk to those with whom I am allegedly closest. it’s weird because i often lament (to myself) about the superficiality of some of my relationships, but have made no concerted efforts to change ’em. some people aren’t entirely comfortable with discussing things of a sensitive nature, so i just let it go. for me, i just don’t like being too vulnerable with many people.

it’s weird though because I overshare so much in some aspects that makes me seem way more transparent than I actually am. so most of those whom I consider friends will think that they know all of my deepest, darkest secrets when in actuality they only know what is slightly beyond the surface. I have a gigantic fear of my feelings being invalidated, ridiculed or somehow used against me in a different moment so I hold back.

I was on the phone with the Biffles Friday night discussing helping her with her rapidly growing home business, when talk turned to (as it inevitably does) her kids & family. She was telling me about how good her kids can be for her esteem when she’s down and feeling bedraggled. The story was hilarious and she wraps up with “well you’ll know this feeling when you start popping out little ones!” I responded with my patented “there’s no room in the uterus inn for children to be swagging and surfing through”. She tried convincing me otherwise for a good 15 minutes thereafter and it devolved into eventually hanging up with a kinda heavy thought in my head.

You see sometimes my uterus aches for a child to bear, but in the same moment I know the life I live isn’t the best to bring a kid into nor do I want to give up my freedoms. I always say that I am too selfish to be a mother. And while I do firmly believe this to be true, I also think that a bigger part of me is afraid to fuck up being a parent. I love my mom, but she has never really been a beacon of motherhood to look up too. Don’t get me wrong, she loves her kids and does everything in her power to help us physically, financially, etc. but she is an emotional midget and in ways that has hurt our relationship more than anything. I see more of her in me than I like & I’m so scared that I’d just fuck it all up. So I think I’m just gonna stay in my lane as the cool auntie/cousin. Over here dusting…and singing in the background!

In the same vein, I’ve kinda sorta lately been wanting to get back into the dating game. But it’s hard, I’m scared (&not physically ready for all aspects of a relationship). And gun shy. And wary. And cynical. But the need for…nay the craving for someone to share life with that is not familial or platonic is overwhelming lately. I wish I could turn this shit off. It’s annoying and almost lead me to do a very stupid thing when a blast from the past dropped into my (newly reactivated) Facebook inbox. Plus, I don’t want to date while unemployed.

This is getting heavy so I’m gonna go dance to Beyoncé in the mirror right now and end this here.


I had the idea to write this post last night, but this morning when I sat down at my lovely machine to begin writing… Let’s just say I feel some kinda way about it now, but I’m going to push those feelings aside because getting this out is more important than worrying about whatever the hell people may think about it. Moving along…

Last week…wait, it was the week before last, my friends and I attended back to back shows of Sara Bareilles in Chicago and Milwaukee. After Milwaukee show, we decided to be on some fangirl type math and hang out post show, hoping to meet her. After waiting for a while in the unseasonable cold, we had a chance to meet and take a picture with Sara. Pretty cool experience as she is one of those artists who often sings my life in her lyrics. I digress though. Upon greeting, she said to me “Hello, Lovely.” I laughed and we had the briefest chat about how awesome she was to stick around in the cold and sign for over 30 folks + take pix. Later as I reflected upon the meeting, I had to giggle at her calling me lovely and my easy acceptance.

You see I’ve had this issue for nearly 30 years of my life. I’ve never felt physically attractive. Which, I’ve never…before now ever expressed to anyone outside of the people who live in my head. I didn’t grow up in a household where beauty was praised nor touted, so I went the great majority of the early part of my life not even thinking about whether or not I was “cute”.

Of course this all went by the wayside in 7th grade year when the boys who I used to just play football with in the park started looking completely different to me. Of course my budding attraction was often met with tepid reception. After a while I got used to being the ugly* friend. I was never the one that guys fawned over. I was often used to run interference for my girlfriends who wanted to hang out with a dude who happened to be hanging with a friend. Each and every time there was a look that passed over the guy’s face. Sometimes fleeting, other times lingering. It plainly said “I gotta be stuck with her? Ugh!”

Ever after eventually finding and meeting guys in whom mutual interest was shown, I never felt attractive. I never felt…worthy. Which lead to me doing some pretty slutty things because I thought it was what I needed to do to make him stay. Pathetic, I know. My story is probably very commonplace, but I’ve never felt comfortable really talking to anyone about it. Without going into too much detail, this lack of esteem lead to me being in a terrible relationship in my late teens that was based off of a dude’s recognition of my lack coupled with my stupidity. I stayed with someone who wasn’t shit for way too long because he said I’d never get anyone better and history was on his side.

You know how folks make those offhand comments in regards to their physical appearance that basically dare anyone to tell them they aren’t the shit? I’ve never successfully been able to do that. Statements like “I’m too cute for xyz” have never passed between these lips. As the years have passed, I grew squirmy whenever anyone commented on my physical appearance. I thought they would say things in order to make me feel good, but not really mean it. I’ve never been able to take a genuine, positive compliment about my physical presence seriously.

A few days ago when the idea for this post came into my brain, I had a mini-breakthrough. If you follow me on Twitter or know me IRL, you’re aware of my recent struggles with weight. I am currently at the heaviest I’ve ever been and am really uncomfortable with how it feels. However, it is at this point–when I should feel the least physically attractive that I have begun to embrace my beauty. And don’t get me wrong. I know I’m not out here killing ’em Halle Berry style. Hell, I’m still not even the cutest of all my friends. BUT. I am attractive. My smile is amazing. My shape, minus these extra *mumble* pounds, is dope. My skin is blemish free and smooth. My hair is glorious.

Had you asked me to pick out one thing I like about myself physically as little as one year ago, I could not have named one thing. I could (and still can on some days) name you between 17-23 things that I do not like, but was hard pressed to find one. That little list up there in my previous paragraph shows that I have come a long way. And I am hoping that as the days go by, I’ll be able to add more and more things to it.


*Beauty is subjective I know, but after being rebuffed by one dude too many you begin to think perhaps it isn’t *that* subjective after all.