A woman like me

I bet you never met a woman like me
a girl with battle scars and wounds six inches deep
From the outside looking in I am just lacking motivation
Life is what you make it you tell me,
Just get over it and then you will see
you just never seem to understand
maybe you aren't a sensitive man
You itemize all of my flaws
a laundry list of goals unattained, potential unreached and decisions questionable

I am not like you
I don't make decisions and then make my move
I plot and I plan
wait patiently for someone to hold my hand and walk me through
to the other side of the fence that I am straddling
I didn't grow up with green grass and rabbits in the backyard
I fell asleep to the sounds of sirens and broken hearts
things don't come easy and sometimes they don't come at all
there are days I stay in bed,
life is far easier when the only noise I hear is the noise in my head
I bet you never met a woman like me
a woman who looks before she leaps
and then decides not to leap at all

a woman who has had pink hair, and bruises
a woman who smokes too much
and who isn't pretty without make up
I bet you never met a woman like me
someone who isn't afraid to hesitate before she makes her move
a girl with fire in her eyes and a hole in her heart
I bet you never met a girl willing to love you deeper and stronger than you ever imagined possible...if only you could love a woman like me

the ideal vs. the reality

I have a terrible habit of not seeing people for who they truly are. I tend to see things through this Disney fairy tale lens where people are characters in this fairy tale story that is my life, and I cast them in different characters. These characters are idealized versions of the actual person, but not really them. So for the beginning of our relationship I am looking at them under the shiny haze of fantasy, and not with the clear eyes of reality.

Does any of that make sense?

This fantasy person that I have created in my mind only tends to last for so long usually either until he reveals himself in a dramatic fashion proving to me that if this was in fact a Disney movie he proves better suited for the villain. But lately, I guess as a sign that I am maturing, or my awful dating patterns are evolving, sooner or later, I realize the errors of my ways. Sooner or later I have an epiphany and realize I had not been seeing this person for their true self, but rather their ideal self, the self that for whatever reason they are not able to be, or maybe they never will be. More aptly put the self that I want them to be, and have created for them.

I always say that I try to see the best in people. But lately I am realizing that maybe it isn't that I try to see the best in people, but I try to make people the best fit for me. I try to will the men I date to be there for me, say the right thing at the right time. I give them proverbial open doors for them to walk right into and say that perfect thing, or extend the perfect gesture at the exact moment I need it. And when it doesn't happen, doesn't fall into place the way I imagined it I am always left feeling let down. Let down that the Prince didn't hand me the glass slipper I ever so coyly dropped in his doorway. No, he stepped right over it not even realizing it was there. I am left feeling let-down, disappointed and hobbling on one foot.

The sad truth is maybe nobody is perfect. Maybe there is no such thing as perfect love. Or love at all. Maybe if you are lucky enough to find someone whose companionship is at best tolerable and even pleasurable then you got it made. I think the real essence of my struggle might lie within myself. Maybe the root of my problem really lies in my inability to be happy. I am always left unsatisfied and wanting more...

Not 17

She is not 17 anymore
Her hair isn't wavy and her lipstick isn't smeared
She only smokes 2 cigarettes on a bad day and puts the rest of the pack away
She stopped staring out windows watching strangers walk by
Inventing her own stories for their fascinating lives

She doesn't bite her nails or take knives to her wrist
She doesn't cut school or chase boys trying to get a kiss
She doesn't runaway from the demons at her back
She doesn't dwell on all the things she used to think she lacked

Emotions don't control her the way that they once did
She doesn't try to avoid growing up, pretending that she is still a kid.
She pays no mind to the women whose sole purpose is to make a normal girl feel bad
She doesn't make lists of things that she wishes she had

There are days she walks down streets now with her head held high
Nights she can fall asleep without feeling compelled to cry
Moments she can take in deeply, like a breath of fresh air
She surrounds herself with people who she knows genuinely care

She isn't depriving herself daily of food or joy
Her world isn't ruled by the opinion of all the high school boys
Her body is stronger and her mind more stable
Allowing herself to feel happy of that she knows that she is able.

The Ghost from Relationships Past

This past Wednesday while running errands in my neighborhood I had one of those jarring moments that women everywhere are often faced with when they are least expecting it. That moment I am referring to is running into your ex in the street. While I still reside in my childhood home with my parents still in the vicinity of where many of my ex boyfriends still live, the chance of running into one of them is fairly high. And while running into an ex is usually one of those situations that leaves most girls feeling flustered I am certainly no different. However, out of all the ex's I could have run into this past week I wasn't expecting it to be him. For all intents and purposes I will call him Red.

Having just left a doctors appt I crossed Queens Blvd clad with a list of errands I needed to run. As I cross over I spot him. He is getting into a cab. While running into any ex like I said above has the ability to probably make my heart race and send me into a panic Red is no different. He is that one ex who I dread running into. He is someone I have many, many times, including during our 13-month relationship quiet literally--ran from. When I realized it was him I was stopped dead in my tracks. Like a deer in headlights. It was like seeing a ghost. He is my ghost of relationship past. One ghost who I have tried tirelessly since I broke up with him back in the summer of 2003 to get rid of.

My relationship with Red was tumultuous and unhealthy. I was young and vulnerable when I met him. During the little over a year that I dated him during my senior year of high school, both his mother and step-father both died only months apart. I have always been drawn to people who are emotionally scarred and in need of saving and Red was no different. His tragic circumstances compelled me to stay with him and put up with his emotional abuse and psychotic behavior far longer than I should have. It got to such an unhealthy level that I physically was feeling ill at the mere mention of his name and my mother and father were considering filing a restraining order against him on my behalf. His constant calls, stalking and jealousy was too much to handle. I downright began to fear what he was capable of, and what his jealousy could someday lead to if I didn't cut him out of my life.

The last time I saw Red was around 4 years ago. I voluntarily hung out with him in his apartment and even ended up in the backseat of his car. In the middle of hooking with him I realized what I was doing and began to have a panic attack. I burst into tears and ran out of his car. That was the last time I had seen him and it was a situation to this day I have blocked out of my mind.

Well standing on the street corner this week like a deer in headlights I was confronted with him. His radar always seems to sense my presence and this time was no different. He immediately jumped out of the cab. As he exited the cab and began to approach me my senses seemed to awaken and I started to turn to run in the other direction. Recalling the numerous times he has chased me down hallways and city blocks either in a jealous rage or after he has run into me randomly, he sensed I was in flight mode and told me to stop and relax. And for some reason I did. Red and I ended up walking around the area for a solid 20 minutes exchanging small talk. For some strange reason I talked to him. I didn't have a panic attack or burst into tears. I gave him the abbreviated version of what I have been up to. How I graduated college 2 years ago and was now in graduate school. How I was dating a lovely doctor whom my mother set me up with. That the reason I always ran away from him and that we didn't remain friends and could never seem to get to that point is because he traumatized me. His actions and conduct traumatized me and frankly scared my mother as well. I told him that he does come up in conversation in my house every so often, but his name is not allowed to be spoken. I told him that around the time our relationship ended I began therapy to work through some of the stuff he did to me. He seemed surprised to hear that I had been in therapy. But I had been. He asked if it was all because of him. The truth is it wasn't. I was going through some stuff on my own prior to meeting him, but my relationship with him definitely weakened an already weak emotional state. While I could have lied and and said it was, and taken the opportunity to really stick it to him and make him feel guilty, I didn't, but he was a huge factor that added to my emotional stress at that time.

After a little small talk I said goodbye to him. I did have my list of errands to run. After I had gotten home from running my errands I told my mom and a few friends that I had run into him. One friend who I had known since high school and was familiar with me and the ghost's relationship asked why I didn't run away. Why I gave him the time of day. And I think the reason was closure. Or maybe that's not why I didn't run, but what I ended up getting as a result of staying and chatting with him. I am in such a good place. Professionally, emotionally, socially, physically. I am doing great. I was 17 and 18 when I dated him and now I am 25. He is 28 now. So much time has passed that I had moved past the ghost. The ghost didn't affect me the way he used to. I didn't cry, scream or panic. I was surprisingly okay and dare I say calm.

In typical ghost fashion, he contacted me as soon as I got home. A facebook message was ready and waiting for me. I read it. But I do no feel in the slightest compelled to respond, because I know better. And more than that, I have totally moved on from that ghost.

Echoes from a past unfinished

a list of numbers, names and positions,
a laundry list of days, weeks, months and years gone by.
i scour old journals for your name, for proof that you existed, proof that my memory of you is real
i am stuck in this time warp where I haven't changed yet somehow everyone else in my life has,
i sit numbing myself with Southern Comfort and razor blades and folksy chick rock
while you are in bed with countless lovers, all so much more significant than I was
your name is just another name on a piece of paper anyway
and i am just another notch on your belt buckle.
it doesn't much matter what we had
Or the promises we made to each other that no matter how many times the tides ripped us apart, we'd always float back out to sea until we reached each other again.
I miss the way you looked at me, stared at me from across the room, the way you now look at her.
The way your eyes sparkled as you watched me when you thought I wasn't looking, and all the times we'd stare at each other longingly both too young or too scared to tell the other what was really on our minds
I am not scared to tell you what has long been on my mind, but now you are somebody elses lover, someone elses possession.
I no longer have the right to stare at you, or worship you the way I once did.