tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-41870090368854576182024-03-07T21:53:55.109-08:00Beneath the Mascara...Behind the Smile...Fingertips massage suds into skin....water rushes down my face and neck, washing away the protective barrier between what I let you see and what I truly am. Beneath the mascara, behind the smile lies me......
My thoughts, my ramblings.....no judgments, no fallacies....just what my heart and my mind speak.
Are you interested?Mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14508431079846843833noreply@blogger.comBlogger14125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187009036885457618.post-20176597945554435262017-07-06T19:51:00.000-07:002017-07-06T19:51:42.892-07:00Release Here I am again. Sitting on the the cusp of pain, anger, frustration and inadequacy. I always end up here when a lover leaves me. Splashing my feet in the water, letting the waves wash over my ankles. I find peace here. A much welcomed solitude that is equally freeing to my body and Spirit.<br />
<br />
Last time I was here I stood atop this very rock and contemplated jumping head first into the ocean, with nothing but screams of 'why didn't they love me ?' echoing through my head to save me from myself. Wanting to let the waters consume me and transform me into a freedom I'd never felt before. A stillness I could not duplicate on this earth.<br />
<br />
Or so I thought.<br />
<br />
I pour another glass of red wine as I gaze at the sunset reflecting on the horizon and I am eerily still. I can still feel my heartbeat in my chest, my blood pulsing at my temples. I am still alive.<br />
<br />
He walked away from me. Very similarly in how the one before him did. It was all good just a week ago. But life does strange things and in an instant his was flipped upside down... And now, as a result, mine has too. Life is funny, and fickle. I was brought to him out of nowhere, the purpose is still unclear. And I loved him. Freely, openly, genuinely. And he was open to it, but he didn't know what that meant or looked like from me, quite possibly from anyone. There's a laundry list full of reasons he gave me, and although valid, they aren't the root cause. Maybe he wasn't equipped to receive my brand of love, or didn't actually want it from me. Or maybe he wasn't as open to it as he truly thought. Maybe his wounds were deeper than either of us thought and I can't help him heal them if he's not actually in a place to do so. And instead of seeing me as a flashlight to help him navigate through the darkness in his life, he saw me as a flashing neon sign distracting him from the rubble he needed to clean up. Perception is a major player and no matter what I said I was, I cannot control what he saw me as. What I do know? I was willing and wanting to stand by his side in anyway possible and help him overcome these obstacles. To be the emotional support that he said he never had, to listen and be his soundboard even though he was miles away. But distance was our killer. Distance doesn't matter when people are truly open to each other if for no other reason than being open of what you truly need will close that gap.<br />
<br />
Distance didn't kill us. Communication, or lack thereof, did. Avoiding issues pulled this in with the tide, turning into himself dragged us under. And not discussing how he really felt and what he really needed took our final breath.<br />
<br />
I sit on this rock, finishing up the last of the wine as the sun completely sets and I'm covered in darkness. I don't feel empty or alone. I don't question what I did or what I didn't do. I don't feel that nagging 'what else could I have done' thing that hangs in the pit of my stomach. I wish he'd been more open about his needs before they consumed us, I wish he felt that we were important enough to save and throw a life preserver. But what I truly hope is that he learns how to swim for himself. I hope he sees in himself what I did and that he believes in it.<br />
<br />
And on that day, maybe I'll see him on that other rock, sipping a beer and splashing his feet in the ocean, because he's realized it's OK to come down from the top.<br />
<br />
<br />Mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14508431079846843833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187009036885457618.post-70038821542971541922016-07-22T20:17:00.001-07:002016-07-22T20:17:36.030-07:00Dammit...I miss her. And I shouldn't. Most days I've convinced myself I don't. And some days I genuinely don't..... But then there's nights like tonight when all I wanna do is hear her laugh. But things are fucked. And I might never hear it again. This is life. And I'll be good. I always am.Mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14508431079846843833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187009036885457618.post-70898323937694991322016-07-05T09:58:00.001-07:002016-07-05T09:58:41.728-07:00Love is fickleOr should I say people are. Love is true, honest, unwavering. It's beautiful when it's real. When it's taken away from you, it causes you to question it on the surface. Was it really love in the first place? Even when deep inside you know it was. You focus on the what and not the why. Sometimes people do things that hurt you because they love you. And that is a difficult thing to handle. Because it doesn't look like love to you. Someone that cares about you shouldn't treat you like that. It can erase all the things that they ever showed you that proved their love for you. It's the craziest thing really. Because in your heart? You know they love you. Beyond a shadow of a doubt. It still doesn't remove the pain tho. It doesn't stop that sick feeling in your stomach, doesn't stop the questions you'll never get answers for. And in this particular situation, it is even worse. Because I had very little expectations of anything. I didn't plan on a happily ever after. I didn't expect to run off into the sunset with the love of my life because of... things. But what I did expect? I expected that when it did end, because ultimately it was going to, I expected it to be handled better. Or maybe I wanted it to be. I didn't think for a second that I would be treated like a stranger. I never expected to be treated more important, because I knew when the shit hit the fan that fixing home would be the number one directive, but cmon....am I wrong for expecting... Better? I only asked one thing, to not get tossed to the side like I didn't matter and that's exactly what happened. And no, that doesn't necessarily reflect on the feelings that were there for me, but dammit that's what it feels like. It's a strange feeling. Hard to handle some days...most days. But on those days? I try to remember the days that were good. That were happy. The days I know I made her feel good, beautiful, special.... The days I made the best effort I could to make her feel like a Queen. And in my eyes. She still is. She always has been.Mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14508431079846843833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187009036885457618.post-2701879629953957802016-07-03T14:18:00.000-07:002016-07-03T14:18:03.701-07:00Do you remember?Do you remember what it feels like? That tingle on your skin... That subtle smile that crept across your face...do you remember? Do you remember feeling close to me? Imagining what I smell like? How I taste? Do you recall the times you were stressed and I knew? Do you remember seeing me twirl as I soaked up your sunlight? Seeing yourself reflected in my eyes? How the sound of your voice calmed even my greatest worries? Do you remember the excitement you felt for me? The eagerness? The love you have for me? Do you? Or is that lost now? Did it all get tossed out the window with everything else? Did you throw it all out with the trash along with my heart? Did you lock everything outside of you like you locked me out? Did you close all the blinds so you can't see me? Shut the doors so you can't feel me anymore? Are you reminded of what was wrong before to the point you ignore what was right? Do you only see me for what I initially seemed, or do you remember when I showed you who I really was? Do you remember when it was good, or does remembering when it was bad make it easier? Or do you even remember me at all? Did I ever actually reside in your heart or was I living in your ego all this time?<br />
<br />
I remember you. I know you. I love you. Still. And it hurts.Mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14508431079846843833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187009036885457618.post-21367582557100471662016-04-25T01:20:00.001-07:002016-04-25T01:20:28.346-07:00I should be asleep but.....A tiny flame, born from two candles burning at both ends, she was buried beneath the surface of the lush greenery of a lonely, deserted island. Surrounded by the salty sea, she grew....unattended and without nourishment, yet she smoldered slow, deliberately. She was beautifully warm, the passion flickered within her light. The sea was her friend, washing over her lovingly, not enough to put her out but just enough to soften her, calm her down when she felt like raging, reminding her of the balance of the world and that all elements must play their part to maintain order. She flourished in her fiery glory while giving respect to the sea which kept her safe from harm with its massive waves yet gentle tides.In time her island was discovered. Explorers dug holes in the landscape, exploiting its untouched fawn and flora, searching for hidden treasure and forcing her deeper into the ground, cutting off her oxygen supply. The sea was infuriated and raged its fury against the island, wiping it free of intruders and covering the remains in its healing salt. She was still there, burning ever so slightly, she survived. More explores came in droves. Large vessels lodged on the shores, men excavating and mining the island for all of its worldly goods to take back and sell to the highest bidder, causing a shift in the tectonic plates, pushing the sea further and further away. She became enraged, her fury unmatched and unable to be contained she broke through the island's surface, standing tall and covering the island in lava and soot, destroying the landscape and removing its appeal. She lie in wait in the belly of the volcano, unstable, patiently searching for her center, for her sea to return. Despite the island being desolate and unappealing, there was still beauty in her magma that drew outsiders to her, forcing her to erupt and set fire to the rain every chance she got. She still longed for the sea but it was so far from her, leaving her overexposed. Towns were built around her , using her heat as an energy source while she became a tourist attraction, something to oogle over and take pictures with, but no one ever stayed near her. She boiled hot yet she no longer erupted, not even smoke seeped out of her to kiss the sky. She was....inactive. No magma to collect, nothing to interest a tourist...eventually the people left the same way they came, homes abandoned and she was totally alone. She convinced herself she would never see the sea again and became complacent in her existence, constantly trying to put her fire out, wanting desperately to be an empty shell of nature's history yet she still burned. Rain fell around her for days, weeks, months...slowly raising the sea level, yet she ignored it. She no longer knew what to do with the sea, just as she didnt know what to do with her flame. The gentle, salty waves meant nothing, the tides rising around her base left her emotionless. The waves grew larger and more frequent and she stood stoic and unmoved. She forgot that water is the most volatile element and there's nothing that can be done to stop a tsunami when it is in motion. As the wall of water grew larger she looked away, burying herself deeper within her volcanic walls. The tsunami crashed against her, filling her full and crumbling her structure to the ground, her flame doused by the one thing that always protected her. She closed her eyes and accepted her fate.<br />
<br />
When I woke up, I was surrounded by water. Choking and gasping for air, I was drowning in my own apathy and I had forgotten how to swim. I had forgotten how to love, how to care. I had forgotten what the sea meant to me, how it protected me. I'd lost my love for the sea as I had lost the love for myself. The salt on my skin felt strangely familiar, the smell jogging in the recesses of my mind and I began to float aimlessly, being pulled further and further out by the tides. I tried to swim to shore but the current was too strong for me and I was swept up in the waves, tossed around like a dog with a chew toy and thrown to shore. I laid still as the water receded from my body, bidding it goodbye and good riddance, but something in me wouldnt allow it to leave without me. I crawled to the edge of the shore, begging the sea to take me, to hold me...to allow me to cherish it as I once did before. Water turned to steam against my skin, my inner flame growing stronger and hotter with each kiss of the wave, and for once I felt centered. Invincible. Destined. I am nothing without the sea, my fire does not exist without it and I will always let it wash over me.Mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14508431079846843833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187009036885457618.post-81568495983464499052016-04-24T16:40:00.000-07:002016-04-24T16:40:19.625-07:00A thoughtSlowly I walk barefoot through the grass, focused. Embracing the dew on my skin. Section 12, row 3, plot 11. Her grave is still fresh, dirt piled high, uneven with the rest of the landscape...muddy from the tears of the Universe and glistening with its blessings. I kneel before her one last time as my tears mix in the soil. She didn't have to die, not like this. She could've been saved. The sound of her voice consumes me...her sweet, raspy words dance in my ears like daggers. "Don't let this happen. Save me if you love me." I thought she was safe, protected, loved. I put blind faith in her lover, I believed her lover was everything she needed. She felt free for once....dancing, drenched in the caring moonlight as her bracelets jingled the beautiful sounds of happiness, draped in royalty, caressed in loyalty. But that loyalty was deceiving. Manipulative. Destructive. Poisonous. Infecting her very core with each kiss, torturing her being one breath at a time while feeding her full of tainted honey and bliss. Draining her life force until she was drowning in her own self doubt. I could have saved her. I saw the signs, the scars...the bruises on her heart that she tried diligently to keep from me. The pain behind her eyes she covered with her beautiful smile. She died in my arms...the same way I held her when she was first born to me. Close to my chest, I felt her heartbeat fade. Her last breath burned my my neck as I rocked her slowly, pulling the sword from her back, releasing her back to the Goddesses where she belonged all along. I never thought she would be taken from me, never thought I would falter in my protection of her that she would fall victim to the ruse of someone claiming to love her. I dig my hands in the dirt, digging thru her pain and her grief, desperately trying to reach her, blood spewing from my palms, mixing with the soil and clinging to my skin like molasses. Tears streaming down my cheeks like acid as I reach for her soul. I pull her up to me thru the dirt and cradle her against my chest, staring in her dirt covered, scarred face, a reflection of self in her eyes. A guttural whisper escapes her closed mouth...."You cannot save me now. You must save yourself". I attempt to protest as I watch her become sand, slipping thru my fingers and becoming one with the earth once again. I pour my love out thru my tears upon the sand and as they land, a gorgeous vine grows, winding itself around my legs, encapsulating me with patience and comfort. Wrapping me in love and protection as rainbow colored flowers bloom, covering me in a veil of pollen colored trust and I am at peace. Thorns turn to tiny vines and penetrate my skin, reminding me to feel, to remember danger is sometimes beautiful but she is always with me. I am encased in her as she courses thru my body, bursting thru my chest and spilling out upon myself, petals slowly falling upon the ugly mess that I have become. Gently, a strange hand takes mine, pulling me into her arms, cradling me and wiping my tears. I stare deep into dark eyes that look like mine, freckles across her face mimicking my own. She rocks me slowly, close to her chest as I feel her heartbeat grow stronger, Her breath across my forehead heals my wounds and I feel whole. "I wont let this happen again. I love you."Mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14508431079846843833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187009036885457618.post-40092698016549592312016-03-31T16:17:00.004-07:002016-03-31T16:17:45.994-07:00Let's talk about love.....Or lack thereof, one could say. Now don't get it twisted, I have a LOT of love in my life. I have friends and a select few family members that I adore and love, and also feel the same way about me, so I'm not lacking in that sense. But I am however lacking in the romantic love department. Well, not like there's not.....*sigh* I'm rambling. My thoughts get ahead of my fingers sometimes.<br />
<br />
About 8 months ago I fell in love with Someone. Unexpectedly, unabashedly....deep, stupid, crazy, dope love. I still am in love with Her quite frankly and it grows every day, even under the current circumstances. I knew from the moment She sent me a message that I was going to be in love with Her. Honestly, I knew before that. I'd see Her around in the internet streets and sigh quietly to myself. I was fascinated with Her. She was beautiful to me, and not just in the physical sense. And that startled me about Her. Or more honestly, it startled me about myself. I'm quick to be physically turned on by someone. Hell I'm almost certain that most of the people I follow on the internet is because I found them physically appealing. But this....tingle....that I had for Her? It came from a deeper, unfamiliar place. But me being me, I would've never stepped to Her for a myriad of reasons, one being Her relationship status, even though I knew She was in a situation that allowed for multiple people. I was friends with Her partner. Internet buddies I'd guess you'd say. But that part of this is for another day, because today? I'm talking about Her. She's.....amazing really. In the simplest terms. Even Her self perceived flaws are amazing to me. I'm typing this and smiling to myself, just because She's that damn special to me. And She, originally, thought I was special too. Adorable even. I was.....happy. I was feeling things I don't remember ever feeling again. And it wasn't some grandiose thing, it was the simplicity of it. And then things....changed, for a lot of different reasons. One of them being that I wasn't as emotionally open as She needed me to be. The question is why? Why would I hide myself from Someone I loved dearly, even before I ever spoke the words? I felt like, as things changed, even though She was still there for me....that I had become a burden to Her. And the more I felt like I became the source of Her pain and anguish, the harder it was to get out of that space. I was fighting it, fighting that feeling, trying to be more, do more, reach out and be more open, but I dropped the ball in key aspects of Her needs and desires. Don't get me wrong, She wasn't running me through the wringer on things that She needed or required. I however always came up short and every time I did fall short, I felt more and more like a nuisance to Her. But at this point now I know some of the reasons why. And I know some people may read this and think 'why didn't you tell Her this before? while it was happening?'. The truth of it was that I didn't know that it was a problem at the time. I didn't realize that certain things I was doing, or allowing to happen, were having such an adverse reaction in myself. I didn't think that they were 'issues' originally, but they turned out to be major components in the downfall of us.<br />
<br />
I am a submissive. It's in my blood. It runs through my soul and I don't know how to NOT be one. I am however VERY persnickity in who I submit to. Just because you claim the title doesn't mean shit to me. If I'm not drawn to serve you, it's just not there. I'm drawn to Her. Completely. But She doesn't see that, and I know why. Simply? Because I didn't show Her in the way She needed to see. Tangibly. And I made a LOT of mistakes along the way. Partly because I was going against my nature and how I need to serve a Dominant. I'm the worshipping type. Put Them up on a pedestal and glorify Them every day. They become the center of my being and everything I do or say, every decision I make for myself, is passed through a lens of Their approval. My Dominant is the most important person to me and I willingly hand over control, leadership and guidance to whomever is the chosen one. I'm also polyamorous. Desiring the option to have multiple romantic relationships in an open and honest manner. As I stated before, She was already involved deeply in a poly D/s relationship with a someone I knew. And as the process started towards incorporating me into Her life, things got sticky for me. Her life functions in a non hierarchy, everyone is equal across the board manner. I thought ok, I can see how no one would want to be treated as 'less than' in their romantic relationships. Hell I don't wanna be treated as second fiddle either. This however didn't transfer well into my D/s, and unfortunately for everyone involved, I didn't realize it until it was too late. How do I balance between making Her know that She is special, above all others as my Domme, but not make anyone else feel like they are less than in our romantic relationships? Mission failed. Miserably. There's so many factors that lead to this quite honestly, many at my own hand, many not by me at all, but they all majorly affected everything, and everyone. But there's also a difference between equality and justice and for me, a Dominant-my Dominant, by definition is completely justified in not necessarily getting "more" from me, but getting different, and that doesn't lessen the importance of other relationships at all. It is what it is, but it caused a cycle of each person not feeling like I was attentive enough, loving enough, willing to put forth the effort for them. That I was just sitting here waiting for the golden ticket of approval that the were worth it, when none of that is true. And none of this is an excuse of my own personal behavior, however this did start the snowball effect of things that happened. I was trying so hard to keep it 'balanced' and it just wasn't working. I went into this with the impression that we wanted the same thing. That She wanted me to put Her first and foremost, to serve only Her and put Her as my center. Maybe I didn't get a clear enough view of what that entailed, or maybe the other people involved didn't realize what that entailed either. But no matter what, it didn't play out that way and I'm sick about it. I'm sick that I hurt Her, that I ever did anything that would make Her question Herself, Her worth. I only want to make Her smile, and I don't. I wonder if I ever did because it seems like so long ago.<br />
<br />
There's just...so much that happened. So many missteps and miscues. So many things that if I could turn back time I would do completely differently. Lady Luck didn't stay on my side much in this, but she never does. She sent her friend Karma tho....and Hindsight pulled up the rear spilling all my internal tea to myself. I wish....I wish I could fix things. I wish I knew how. I want nothing more right now than to be typing this in Her inbox and not in my space. I don't because I don't want to hurt Her anymore. I want to lay prostrate at Her feet and spill myself all over the floor for Her. And I can't. I want to scream "TELL ME WHAT TO DO!!" But again, I can't. I don't want to upset Her ever again in life, so I pull myself away from Her and although it feels like I'm dying because of it? I'd rather take the pain than risk causing Her any more. At the same time I think I'm making the biggest mistake of my life by NOT screaming in Her inbox, by not begging Her, by not putting the car on the road and driving to Her to lay at Her feet, wherever She may be when I arrive. She's completely irreplaceable to me and I fucked it up. And it hurts, not because I know that the feelings probably aren't the same. Not because right now Her ego is bruised, but when She's over that, She'll be over me and I probably won't even register in Her mind anymore. What hurts is that I could have been irreplaceable. That it didn't have to be like this. I wouldn't have to spend the rest of my life with a hole in my heart the size of Her fist.<br />
<br />
My friends in The Life tease me because I said I'm hanging my jersey up in the rafters. They tell me I said that before, and I have. This time however, it's a bit different. It's not from a place of self. I'm not worried about getting hurt or losing someone again that I love and adore. I don't want to hurt anyone else like I have Her. I also don't have any room in my heart for another Dominant. I don't want another. I'll never want another with the intensity that I desire Her. Me wanting Her feels so.....irrelevant. I feel irrelevant along with a laundry list of other things. You always want what you can't have, right? But I could have...I DID have, and I squandered it away.<br />
<br />
I'm sorry for what I have done, the pain that I have caused. But what I will never apologize for is my love for Her. And I know love isn't enough to keep anything going, but without it? Nothing else matters to me. I may have lost Her and Her love forever, but I'm trying to find a bit of solace in the fact that I once had it. That I once felt this. Even though She didn't get to see my love for Her, I'm thankful for the chance to have given it to Her. And I will never take it back. Until I breathe my last, my love is Hers.Mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14508431079846843833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187009036885457618.post-88101452351582775752011-05-25T00:15:00.000-07:002011-05-25T00:17:16.141-07:00Once you go fat.....<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I've noticed something. It seems like you can't be proud of who you are as a plus sized woman, yet still want to lose weight. People act like you're abandoning the cause of 'fat acceptance' if you decide that you do indeed have too much booty in said pants. I hear a lot of 'you must not love yourself then' because I want to lose some poundage. What people fail to realize is that for me, it's not about wanting to be slim and trim. I want to run. I want to dance like I used to (I grew up breakin it down on some MC Hammer type ish lol). I want to build muscles....I want that line down my calf when I flex my foot again. Basically I want to be in the best shape of my life and the side effect of getting there is in fact weight loss.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">So no, I'm not leaving the 'cause'....I'm not a self loathing person that's just conforming to society's standards. I still support and always will support everyone's right to be treated with respect and dignity regardless of size, gender, etc., but more importantly, I respect MY right to be who I want to be. Im not going to start bashing overweight people when I get to the point where I am no longer one myself. What I will do is try my best to help someone out that may be thinking about doing the same. It doesn't make you less of a person because you want to become healthier, or in my case, stay without any health issues. I dont want to take a million pills every day when I'm old. I don't want to get every joint in my body replaced. I want to travel the world and take sunrise runs on the beach (ok, maybe I'm tryna get my groove back with that one but you understand)...I want to LIVE my life, not just spend it 'alive'. And I know for a fact my weight keeps me from doing some of these things. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">So judge me if you want. Look down on me because I no longer want to play the overweight game....that's quite fine by me. That's your cross to bear, not mine. But please know that if you're looking down on me for wanting to better myself, you may want to think about asking yourself why you're not interested in doing the same. </span>Mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14508431079846843833noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187009036885457618.post-17802562045736205792011-05-22T22:36:00.000-07:002011-05-22T22:36:02.965-07:00It's time for a changeRight now I'm sitting on my bed with my laptop. It's 12:24 am. I'm procrastinating. I should get up, take my shower, get my gym bag together for tomorrow and get some much needed shut eye, but still I sit.<br />
<br />
This is my problem. Queen Procrastinator at your service. My procrastination has led me to a lot of things, mainly it's led me to being as overweight as I am right now. Mind you, I've never been skinny-well once in my life when I was 12, but that was mainly a protest to the situation around me. I've managed to live 35 years by hiding behind food and my weight....by justifying my actions and choices because I'm beautiful and I still always did all of the things I wanted to do. I'm starting to realize how untrue the second part of that sentence is. There are things that I have managed to convince myself that I don't want to do in my life, mainly because at my current weight, they are impossibilities. And no, as much as I know no one outside of me is really going to read this, telling my weight isn't an option. What is an option is me making the effort to change things, to make my life better, to take control of ME. I've been letting any and everything else dictate me...I just 'go with the flow'...no set plans. That mentality hasn't gotten me very far and I'm almost ashamed that it's taken me this long to realize it. I can now say that I have realized it and I want to change it. That's the first start right, admitting you have a problem? This serves as my admission. I'm ready.Mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14508431079846843833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187009036885457618.post-48150798935203398452011-05-09T11:02:00.000-07:002011-05-09T11:02:04.204-07:00Another Mother's Day.....*side eye*Mother's day is always an interesting day for me. I'm not extremely close to my mom like some people I know, nor am I separated from her entirely. We're more like aunt/niece, but that's not the point of this.<br />
<br />
Every year the convo goes like this:<br />
<br />
Person: Happy Mother's day!<br />
Me: Thanks but I'm not a mother.<br />
Person: Really? Why not? Don't you want to have kids?<br />
Me: Sure, if it happens.<br />
Person: Well you better get to working on it!<br />
<br />
Now....one may say this is just an honest mistake because one would assume that with my age (and I can only assume my race) that I would already have some chirren. But I don't. I will gladly give you a pass for assuming that I do, but when you start to question me on it, that's where I draw the line. Personally, it's none of anyone's business why I don't have kids. It's not abnormal for someone to not have any, or not want any for that matter. I'm not required to procreate. I'm not going to grow old alone because I didn't have children. I'll be just fine regardless.<br />
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The other conversation I hear a lot is from women that are mothers and became mothers when they were young. My TL on twitter stays full of comments about women with no kids needing to STFU bragging about it because it isn't anything special and how maybe we need to address all the abortions that have been done to keep us that way......<br />
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*cracks knuckles*<br />
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Firstly, I want to stress that I don't judge anyone about their kids. I don't care if you had them when you were 14 or 40. You do you. It's perfectly acceptable for someone to do a #proudmommytweet, but it's not acceptable for us to be on #teamnokids? Really? Trust me when I say I am very proud to not have any kids yet. I decided at a young age that I wasn't going to have kids until I was married. I'm 35 and have never been married. I also have never been pregnant-EVER. Never had an abortion, never took a pregnancy test outside of a doctor's office. I have never had a pregnancy scare in my entire sexually active life. I've kept my BC prescription up to date, made sure condoms were used correctly, the whole nine yards. I made an effort to not have a baby daddy....and no, I'm not looking down on those that do. I'm just saying I made an effort on my part to not be in that position. Everyone is entitled to be proud of their personal accomplishments. Yours may be that you're a great mother and are raising wonderful children, but one of mine is the fact that I don't have children out of wedlock. It's my personal choice and yes, I take pride in it.Mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14508431079846843833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187009036885457618.post-31187324204610670432010-11-11T14:52:00.000-08:002010-11-11T14:52:32.922-08:00I.....love the fact I can blame the tears on something else.<br />
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I can keep a smile on my face, a song in my voice and no one is the wiser.<br />
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I will tweet with wild abandon, makes jokes as if everything's alright......<br />
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But at night......when no one can hear me...when no one is looking, I can let them flow freely....and no one will be there to judge me.<br />
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This is why I don't give out my heart.Mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14508431079846843833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187009036885457618.post-47580093388965474362010-10-21T09:06:00.000-07:002010-10-21T09:06:20.798-07:00Creatively: I want to knowI want to know what makes you tick....I want to get inside of your mind....under your skin. I want to see through your eyes, feel through your sou. I want to flow through you like oxygen in your veins. I want to know how your fingers feel intertwined with mine, your skin against my skin. I want to feel the heat from your body, keeping me warm at night. I want the sweetness of your kisses lingering across my lips, the memory of your fingertips dancing across my body, reminding me all day of you. I want to watch your face light up when I walk in a room, your arms reaching for my embrace......I want to comfort you, nurture you. I want to help you find that part of you that you only dreamed of, the you that you never imagined could exist.<br />
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But mostly, I just want to hear you say that you love me.Mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14508431079846843833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187009036885457618.post-18439761604736736812010-10-13T08:35:00.000-07:002010-10-13T08:35:12.420-07:00Woooossssaaaaahhhh!!!Yesterday was a bad day for everyone involved in my life. Clients at work were on one, which set off the boss and that trickled down to me. My friends are going thru things that are difficult right now, and one of the people that can guarantee a smile on my face was in a foul mood too. Needless to say my cloud of anger hovered over my head a lot longer than I wanted it to. There was a bright point to my day. I talked to my favorite aunt. Talking to her always relieves my spirit. Even though she's miles away from me I can always feel her arms around me when I need it most. She is one of the most important people in my life and sometimes I forget to let her know just that.<br />
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We talk about a lot of different things, which is one of the things I love. I can be myself with her and not ever worry about being judged or loved any less because of it. We were discussing our relatives-because neither one of us refer to these people as family-and something very disturbing to my soul came up. My grandmother or Nonnie as she preferred to be called, passed away in November of 2007. She was the rock of the family. The only true tie that kept us even on speaking terms. Now that she's gone it's exactly as she predicted. The family is segregated and the break in this bond will never be repaired. It happened mainly because of the events surrounding my Nonnie's death, but that story will have to be in another blog lol.<br />
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My cousin Lex has decided that she wants her grandkids to call her Nonnie as well.....now, she's my 1st cousin, which means we share a common grandmother-Nonnie. Why exactly would you do that to the memory of your own grandmother? Some may say she's 'honoring' her but you'd have to know the entire backstory in order to understand how this is in no way an honor. It's flat out disrespect especially since some of her grandkids actually knew Nonnie. The fact that she believes this to be cute just literally turns my stomach. She has tried so hard to put herself in the position of 'Big Mama' in her dysfunctional side of the family but if you have to get there on the memory of an amazing woman that deserved that position, you get no respect from me. It just shows me that you, just like your triflin ass momma, had no respect for the woman who went out of her way so many times to make sure that you were taken care of and had anything you wanted or needed. She will continue to live in this delusional world where she grew up in a house somewhere with lush rolling hills when in all actuality, she lived in the projects, got strung out on heroin and pregnant by her pimp at 15. She's managed to pass her 'wonderful' morals down to her kids, which is why she's 45 with 5 grandkids and is raising one of them as her own because the state took her away from her trifling ass momma because she let her boyfriend beat the baby (she was still a toddler) with a belt and left buckle marks on her. But in her mind she's so much better than everyone in the family. I've almost come to blows with her before on situations surrounding my Nonnie and best believe, If I EVER hear one of those brats call her Nonnie, the fight will be on and poppin...no doubt.Mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14508431079846843833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4187009036885457618.post-64253798158240078202010-10-12T09:18:00.000-07:002010-10-12T09:18:36.173-07:00Jumped up out the bed.....WoosahhhFrom the wrong side obviously....My feet hit the floor running in full on Bitch Mode. Why? Could be because I accidentally shut off my alarm instead of hitting the snooze. Or that when I laid down last night (this morning if you want to be specific) I was not necessarily in the greatest of moods. Or quite possibly it was because I knew it was only Tuesday and I have so many more days to come to this place I call a 'job'.<br />
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There are several potential variables that have me feeling like this. I get in to several bitchy emails from different people....Like any of their issues is my fuckin fault. I'm either getting short or unanswered texts from people that should be responding and right now, this is SO not a good look. Then of course there's the fact that I just hate my job. Point. Blank. Period. Even when I did my makeup this morning it came out angry! My brows are a little bit sharper than normal, the crease more defined than I regularly do during the week.<br />
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Now I'm sitting here at this desk trying to relax. I need a scented candle or something up in here to calm my nerves.....something being a giant margarita and a massage, not necessarily in that order. I need to get away from this foolishness before I go postal on someone or take it out on the wrong person. Normally I'm not like this. I'm the calm, rational one that keeps everyone else from losing it, but as we all know when you are that person, you rarely have someone that can (or will) do the same for you. So I sit here, letting my little fingers say all the things that no one can hear unless you listen really closely.Mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14508431079846843833noreply@blogger.com0