Confrontation

it's not confrontation when done with conviction...because it's necessary for the resurrection of my soul. so, don't call me dramatic. i am not the conjurer of conflict, but simply taking the necessary steps to survive it.

and i'm not asking you to approve, nor do i expect you to like it. you don't have to grin and bear it, but it's going to happen anyway. so, you might as well determine to come out smiling: i have.

:)

that's right.

i'm finally on the road to recovery and although the pain is deep rooted and i can still feel the cut of betrayal, indignation at the trespassing onto my private property, i'm getting better. i'm taking it one step at a time and watching myself blaze trails where few have dared to travel.

how about that?

innocence may have been lost, trust dissolved, and fears instilled, but someone once told me that courage is not the absence of fear, but action taken in the midst of it's presence. So, call me the Cowardly Lion and hear me roar... because i refuse to let the snare of the enemy hold me hostage anymore.

now, some would say that God is not in the midst of what i currently do because my feet have long since crossed a church threshold, but i know that "church" resides in my communion with Him and that takes place in my spirit and in my soul. so, take a look at that plank reflected in your own mirror and leave my salvation to the only One who determines it... and i won't judge you either.

wouldn't that be something? if acceptance could be obtained without the need for approval... if you could not just love, but respect me anyway even if you don't agree with it... now, that would be an accomplishment.

if what the devil meant for bad, really turned out to be used for good... (i think i've heard that somewhere before) and yes, i'm smiling. see, i haven't turned my back on God, it's just hard for me to look Him in the eye sometimes. i've always been special to Him, and He knows that i know He didn't do it, but it still hurts...

so, He just holds the back of my bicycle seat and lets me think that i'm doing it all myself. that's why i still love Him. He finds amusement at my so-called independence of Him when all the while, He's still guiding my direction. He even pretends not to see me look back to make sure He hasn't let go yet... so, don't tell me i don't have a relationship. it's just different than yours.

and that's the entire point that i'm trying to make. so what i do and say isn't exactly "politically correct" or "socially acceptable"... am i supposed to be discouraged by that? if nothing else, your cries of indignation only serve as confirmation that i'm doing just what needs to be done. so, as i've said before, you'll get no apologies from me. sorry just can't leave my lips. because if trying to find my healing and peace is somehow offensive to you, if my true intentions somehow don't penetrate your wall of anger or confusion, i can't help you.

in the meantime, i've got to continue calling a spade a spade, telling the Undiluted Truth, and praying for the strength to do it without the expectation of affirmation from anyone.

i think Someone incredibly wise once said... "and the Truth, shall set you free.."

i'm just trying to spread my wings...

The Eye of the Beholder

If beauty is in the eye of the beholder, may I cut your eyes out to look in my mirror?
because I rarely like what I see in my reflection...

it is funny that the skin i boast to feel so comfortable in
is also the source of my insecurities...
is it possible to feel confidently insecure?
an actual place of existence
something real that one can dwell in
or does the insecurity make the confidence
null and void?

see, i believe in a bipolar existence
a place of residence that is probably more real
than the four walls you call home...
because none of us are what we pretend 24/7
even Jesus had his waivering moment
while standing in the Garden of Eden

why do you expect anything different from me?

Why should compliments fall easy on my ears
like whispers of my beloved
when belief that i'm worthy of love
is at times a stretch of my imagination...
nothing more than an apparition
in the desert of my life?

Some hear these words as a quest for reassurance
an expedition of false modesty
seeking a confirmation of validity
but that simply isn't the case
more like an admission
a confessional truth to only be
whispered behind closed doors
because no one would believe them
if shouted from rooftops
and oh, how i feel like shouting

but what would that accomplish?
the vision i see staring back at me
would be the same
and i would still desire for hers to be a name
other than mine
and as long as i stand there
looking for her to be something
other than what she is
beauty will allude me,
disappointment will find me,
and insecurity will be a permanent
fixture in my reality

and while that may be true,
all i have to do is turn my face
from that vessel of vanity,
close my eyes and remember
that although it contains,
my skin is not me...
not the true souce of my beauty

it's my love of the Lord,
however troubled and complicated a relationship
that might be,
my willingness to be open and vulnerable before him
no matter what the masses may think of me...
it's my love of my daughters...
the thing that propels me
when i'm sure that i have nothing left to offer
in those things i see goodness,
and i can be proud,
raise my chin and look to the clouds
with no shame and no doubt...
because insecurities pale in the face of love
incase you didn't know.

so while it may sound like a double standard,
another Dani bipolar moment,
i think we all share a confidently insecure
view of ourselves at times...
and that's okay.
maybe beauty shouldn't be the thing
that we seek to behold when looking in the mirror
but a reflection of inner strength
that on our darkest days will keep us going
atleast, i'd like to think so...

When What You Love Becomes Work...

We all spend time wishing that we could do what we love for a living, and I've often wondered if we should be careful what we wish for. I mean, think about it. When what you love because your work, doesn't that change it for you? Don't you sometimes, not always, but sometimes get bogged down by the normalcy of it? the expectancy of it? the responsibility of it?

It doesn't mean that we don't still love it, but I wonder if it manages to take some of the joy out of it? Just a thought.

I know that for me, I love writing. I love picking up the pen, or putting my fingers on the keys, and just letting my thoughts out onto the page. The only problem with that is now that so many people are reading those thoughts, it leaves me open for judgment, criticism, and what others think should be appropriate censorship. And that's not what I want. Don't get me wrong. I don't mind if you judge or criticize even, but don't think that just because you are doing that, that I'm all of the sudden going to censor my thoughts or not put them into writing.

See, I have this crazy mindset that says, if I'm already thinking it, God already knows it, and since He determines my destiny, why should I care what you think? Now, someone recently pointed out to me that just because I think it, doesn't mean I should say it. And my response to that is: believe it or not, I don't. The stuff that you hear me say or read from my page, is actually the watered down version much of the time. And that should probably scare you...lol.

But the reason I say the things I do, is because I honestly believe that if people were more honest about their thoughts, their past, and their failings, we would be people less judgmental and more accepting of each others faults. There wouldn't be the need to pretend so much. We wouldn't carry around this fear of what others will think about us, because we would understand that everyone has those thoughts even if they aren't brave enough to speak them. But that's just me. You might not agree. And while we may differ, I can respect that opinion.

Now, 2 years ago, when I first began to write, none of this would have ever crossed my mind. But now, that what I love has become work for me... I have to. People give thought to what they read and now I'm put in the precarious position of deciding how I choose to handle that. Do I do what others have suggested and conform? Do I start to "be careful" because I now have "an image" and worry about what people will say or think about me?

For those of you who know me, you know that this is likely NOT going to happen. I've spent too many years worrying about what people think and trying to be what other people thought I should. And I've determined to not do it anymore. So, what I have to count on is people being honest and real with themselves, if with nobody else. Because then, they will appreciate me. Support me. And understand my position and where I'm coming from. At least that's my hope. That whether people or agree or not, they can respect and appreciate realness when they hear it. And if they do that, I won't have to worry about image or being "politically or socially correct" because I'll be being honest - and that's what they will love.

Whatever it is that you love, if you are now blessed enough to do it for work, the only thing that I can say to you is stay true to the purpose and feeling that caused you to begin that work. Don't let the expectations of others or the success of your endeavors change you or what you do. Stay true to what has made you successful and people will continue to love and support you. And then, you can still find pleasure in the details, pride in the outcome, and joy in the process of getting it done... even when what you love becomes work.

Baby Mama Drama... Really?

I hear soooo many men these days complaining about women who are putting them on child support and how we women should just sit back and let you all take care of your children the best way you can...

I hear you all talk about the women who withhold visitation because they're angry with you, trying to manipulate you, and all you can say is "if these women would just let us, we would do what we're supposed to as men." In other words, we women just won't "let" you be men, and frankly, I'm sick of that bullshit. How can men, real men, blame a woman for their failings... for not doing what they know is their responsibility or position to play? Really? How weak is that? You're not leading because we're not following? You're not providing because we're pursuing our own opportunities? You're not spending time with your children because you don't want to see us? Get the fuck outta here... It's excuses and I'm sure I speak for many women who are just tired of hearing them.

Because truth be told, when you get a woman who doesn't call you, ,nag you, "hound" you for the monetary support you should be seeking to provide for your children, we don't hear from you. Hell, you might as well be living in some other country for the amount of communication we get from you. But let us pick up the phone... let us ask one time when and how much you plan on sending for your children, and you have the nerve to get belligerent... seriously? As if we don't have a right to question you about providing for our children... it sickens me... how just because we aren't together means that this shit has to be trifling.. .when really, the babies should come first. It should have nothing to do with you or me. Why can't it be that easy?

And before those "good dads" out there get all riled up and pissed behind what I'm saying... let me just say that if this shit does not apply to you... don't take it personally. Because I'm on the other end of the stick.. never calling or asking for shit. Bringing the children more than halfway to ensure that you give them some type of visitation, but getting very little in return. And if men are honest, I would say that my situation is more the majority than not. It's this mindset that is effecting the core of our families...

How does my independence have anything to do with your ability to be a man? Why does my success mean that you should provide less than the minimum the government requires? If you were thinking about the children instead of your animosity towards me, you would realize it's them your hurting... not me. And they won't forget. It will mold them into the women they are to be and that's what I fear most. That somehow, you're lack of fathering will negatively impact their ability to trust and believe in men... because we as women were made to compliment you. And if we continue down the path we're on now, the family structure will continue to lessen with each and every generation... and that's sad.

So, before we keep talking about "baby mama drama", consider how we women feel about "sorry ass baby daddies", and let's make an effort to get this shit right. Why should our parental relationships be defined by such titles? This could not have been our plan, our agenda, when their arrival took place on this earth... so, why not give them the consideration that they deserve? I will tell women to not use their children as pawns... give that man a chance to play the role he has earned... and in the meantime, you men, step up to the plate. Show up for visitation and don't be late. Be fathers and daddies so there's no distinction in the terminology and all your children will know is "mine was there for me"... that should be our aim.

This is the lives of our children... not a game.

Half Baked

Like bodies lying on sandy beaches around the world, most of us find our dreams half baked... but then again, aren't many of our ideals, almost all of our perceptions, concepts, and expectations of what life ought to be for us? half baked. a little "undercooked". something that needed a little more time to become what it should be... yep, that's us.

and then we wonder why things leave a bad taste in our mouths... it's because we are living life consuming things that aren't completely ready for us or attempting to handle situations we aren't quite ready for. just running through life... half baked.

we apply our half baked theories to our relationships and then wonder why the appetizers are a little too hot, the salad has too much dressing, our meat is a little too chewy for our liking and we ended up watching it bleed... it's because it's half baked. we've began consumption too soon.. when it just looked pretty.. like it "should be done" and we didn't check the internal temperature to make sure that the substance it was cooked all the way through and not harmful to us..

it's why disappointed dreams hurt so much... they almost make us sick. half baked poisoning... lol. something like that. you know what i mean at least. it's believing in half truths when we know that honesty doesn't exist in the people we are dealing with, but we are in love with the idea of who they are going to be to us so we keep half thinking that somehow they will change who they are and manage to become fully the ideal that we've been half dreaming all our lives. no wonder we stay nauseous...

and then.. when we ought to throw it out.. get rid of that which has made us sick, we hold onto it. leave it in the fridge or microwave... thinking that maybe with time it will somehow become the meal of life's menu for us. we keep them around... as if looking at them will somehow make them edible. knowing that it's really spoiling inside... crossing the boundary from half baked to completely rotten and worthy of only one thing, the trash.

and again, here comes our half baked ideals thinking that maybe the milk will become yogurt or even cottage cheese.. or hopefully like grapes, eventually they will become wine worthy and we will be able to lose ourselves in the inebriation of it's consumption... but nine times out of ten we know that this is not realistic. we don't have the patience or nurturing that it would take for that and even if we did, would we want it that way? do we want it when it's ugly, smells bad, or something we have to "acquire a taste for" ?? no, we want it pretty, pleasing to our senses, and absolutely delicious at the first bite...

a half baked idea of how things usually happens...

when will we learn better? to cook our meals or wait for them to rot and become something different which is probably better for us than the original, but definitely not what we first wanted... we probably won't. we're the microwave generation.. we want it simple, edible, and we want it quick... often not leaving time for anything to marinate, generate a special taste.. instead it ends up like ravioli or ramen... individually packaged, easily prepared, tasting bland and like everything else.

that's what we half baked people get: wanting 5 star meals from our drive thru windows...

why don't we just take time to cook??

Puzzled Pictures...

i wish somehow that my pieces really fit into the perfect puzzle picture framed and hanging on my life's door that everyone seems to see and keep admiring...

a beautiful picture that has been hung for visual entertainment... something for your eyes to rest upon and provide an illusion of "put-together-ness"... a pretty picture display that without hesitation or deeper investigation, you turn your head and look away. completely unaware that the puzzle is not complete or anywhere close to accurate.

the pieces have been forced together, and glued into position so that the image before you is what it should be. but in reality, if you look closer, you will see the edges don't quite touch and there's space where none should be. but only if you step closer... really want to see what lies beneath the image hanging in front of you.. will you find these small but wide imperfections.
tracing the branches of the trees only to find flowers at the ends instead of leaves, oceans bleeding red instead of glorious blue seas, but you think that i'm just trying to be artistic in my expression, not realizing that it's painful dysmemberment that you are witnessing...

please look beyond the frame, through the glass, and see the puzzle that lies beneath.
i know that it won't be quite as endearing or sweet, but it will be truth. because as much as we would like to think that life just "goes together" and things are just "meant to be", i would say that things rarely happen as they are destined or how God designed them to. see, we have choices, chances, and opportunities to determine the fitting of our pieces, the putting together of our puzzles and since we are not divinely inspired or blessed with the gift of foresight, we tend to get it wrong much of the time.

then begins the painstaking process of trimming edges, pushing of pieces, trying to make things fit into spaces they were never meant to.. and we wonder why the pictures are never quite clear... or seem like something is missing. it's the result of misplaced puzzle pieces that we are trying to make conform to place in which we've put them... not realizing that while we might have a gorgeous Robert Kinkade in this frame, if we just let our pieces fall where they may, exist in the space in which they end up, we may have a Van Gogh, DaVinci, or Picasso... but we aren't patient like that, free like that.. we must put things where they're supposed to be so that we can display what others believe to be a "pretty picture"... after all, perception is reality..

and who doesn't want to be percieved as a perfectly placed puzzled picture hanging on display for everyone to see...

but then you're not... not really.

Anticipation of the View

it's been 18 months baby.

and while they don't come like they used to... hell, they hardly come at all... i wonder if you ever think that i still anticipate every text, every call that comes from you? do you realize that there's nothing more that i would like to see than my reflection in your eyes?

i laugh because there are those who think that i'm afraid of love... they think that i'm unwilling to compromise, scared of sacrifice... and what they don't realize is that i'm a walking crucifixion for your love.

see, i've witnessed manhood at it's best. and while not perfect, it was honest in its attempt and having beheld such rarity, a thing of real beauty, there's no other truth that I want to participate in or join myself to. and yes, i understand the challenge. i know what stands between us and i'm okay with it. what i'm going to do is "enjoy this view" and make the most of it. whatever little there is... i'm going to inhale and breathe it in and just be grateful that mercy and grace chose to let me experience it again..

someone said that i fill my time with men that don't measure up because i'm scared of love, but i would simply say that i don't bother with that which i know can never fill my cup because my soul still drinks your memory and those times still fulfill me... and i'm not wanting.. of anything but you. so, i choose to stand alone in this world with substitutes to pass my time away from you knowing that there's no way they could ever replace my Beauty & Truth. the very thing that keeps you from me is what makes me love you. so, i can't be angry, but rather admiring of your virtue.

and soon, i'll get the chance to show you that these words are living intentions in my soul. that our time together, while it may be short, will suffice even though it won't leave me whole. i'll enjoy it. like savoring the morsel of a man's last meal... i'll take my time with you. pause the passing of the sun and moon if possible. and i'll take a step closer to the edge... hold your hand.. and just enjoy the view.