Relationships

Relationships

Save the argument.

The solution is talking.

But, keep your mouth shut.

Hurt

Hurt

My eyes tell you all.

But, my soul knows how to lie.

I think I am done.

I finally did it...

I thought about it day in and day out. It was almost an obsession. I continued to look at myself in the mirror and wonder why. Here I was a couple of pounds lighter and I still looked the same way I did at the age of twenty-three. At what point was I going to become an adult? At what age was I going to start living the life of a real woman enjoying her thirties?

I wondered what it would look like, if I would like it, could I manage it? There were many questions lined up to knock me down, but the desire was still there. When the desire is there and the nagging feeling of "I need this" is looming in the distance, there is no stopping you. I sat down and discussed things with my other half and he finally convinced me to do it. "It's what you want to do. So what if you don't like it, it will grow back." He was right. 

The day had finally come where I needed to step back and look at the life I had lived up to this point. I know what you're thinking...this is all about a freaking hair cut? Yes, yes it is. my hair meant more to me than I don't know what. It was my comforter, it was my sex appeal, it was my shield. I wore it many different ways, but by far my favorite was when it was straight and you could see the length.

I loved the way it would flow in the wind, the way it rested in my shoulder and I loved to pull my hair from the back as I was concentrating on something. I still believe that when I was suffering from a severe writers block that little pull made all the difference.

Eventually, budget cuts hit and there was no way for me to constantly go out and blow dry my hair. It takes money to make kinky hair look nice. So, a bit of depression settled in. There was no way that I was going to blow dry that mop myself every three days. 

 I mean, come on... Look at that. Would you ever think that hair that curly could ever look straight? It does. My hair is thin, but ridiculously curly. I owe that luxury to my mixed genes. Luckily, I got more of the mom hair gene than the sperm donor, because her hair is lifeless straight and tends to lend a hand to the people who blow dry my hair. 

Anyway, let me tell you the story about when I went to the salon and finally gave in to cut my hair short. My hair dresser and I have had a ten year relationship. She and I have been through marriage, divorce, dating, and new relationships. She has been dying to cut my hair really short to give me a new look since my divorce five years ago. I always refused.

One day, I went to see her to become a red head. She loved this color on me and was dying to change it back to red (I was a severe red head years ago, think the Phoenix from X-Men). I caved and she changed it. But, since my hair was sooo long, she ran out of dye and had to re-mix another batch. The problem with this was that she didn't remember exactly how she mixed it. 

I was half asleep and didn't know what was going on, until I went to work. A co-worker of mine looked at me and said, 'Dude, your hair is two different colors.' I lost it. I didn't call her nor did I contact the salon. I knew this was on oversight on her part, but, I couldn't afford to continually go back there every other week. I was determined to find a new hair dresser.

I found one. He was amazing, he fixed my situation, but he wasn't her. His prices were great. The waiting time killed me. So, when it came down to getting my hair cut, I knew what I was going to do. I was going to call Carmen and set up an appoint and forgive her for her mistake. I was going to get my hair cut!!

 I made the appointment and showed her this picture. I want to look like Drew Barrymore, sans color. I want a short hair cut in order to cut away all the things that I have gone through in the last ten years. I WANT FREEDOM!!!! She looked at me and said, it's about time. But, are you sure. 

She knew how attached I was to my hair. Was I 100% sure, of course not. However, I couldn't handle the desire I had to get rid of my hair. The time had come for a change. Everything around me was changing. My world was starting to look brighter and I needed my hair to reflect that. 

She grabbed the scissor and cut. I'm not going to lie. At first, I was hyperventilating, but with each cut I felt lighter. I felt free. I felt more powerful that I have felt in a very long time. I was excited for the change. For every little change that I was making in my life.

I'm not going to continue to bore you with my dramatic outlook on life. Let's just say that I am happy. I do need to do a couple of other things to my hair because I didn't remember that cutting my hair smack in the middle of summer was a bit dumb on my part, seeing as the humidity in Miami and my curls don't like each other, but there isn't a day that I look back on my hair cut and doubt that I made the wrong decision. So, without further ado (is that how u spell that?)  MY BEFORE AND AFTER SHOT. 

Tell me...and be honest....WHAT DO YOU THINK?

Friends are love...

There are those times in life that one feels alone. Its that feeling where you think that there is no one in the world that understands you. Since no one understands you, then no one cares. And, since no one cares, what's the point of going on? Then the craziness and the madness starts. Take it from me, I've been there more than once in my life. I have to say that the cliche of take it day by day or what doesn't kill you make you stronger....yeah, they are all on point.

Last night I had one of those moments. Or actually this whole trip was like that. I was hesitant to come because of the circumstances that occured prior to this. I wanted to crawl into a hole and dwell on my own sadness. I guess I should give you some background information before the epiphany of my life slapped me to my knees yesterday.

Ok, so it all starts with an ex-boyfriend of mine. He and I had a good relationship. I would have to say that it was my first REAL adult relationship. Yeah, I know that I was married and with the same man for the beginning of my twenties AND we were together for about eight years. But, I wouldn't call that an adult relationship. It was more of friendship with aspirations to become a relationship. But, enough about that.

Ex-boyfriend or Bruce (name has been changed DUH!) had a relationship like none I have ever experienced. We talked a lot. But, it was more than talking. It was communications. I would speak, he would listen, he would give his thoughts on the subject and vise versa. Everything was on the table. There was nothing that we couldn't discuss. For the first time, my thoughts didn't scare me. He taught me the art of communication and how to have an arguement without shouting and without judgement.

Example: Our arguements would flow like this:
"I can't believe you just said that."
"Said what?"
"That you prefer pink."
"I don't get it. What's the point?"
"How can you like pink? Your such a jerk sometimes."
"It's my opinion. You have yours and I have mine. And, your right...the way that I said it made me come off as a jerk, BUT not the words. I should've said it differently. I didn't mean to upset you. I'm sorry."

I'm sure you guessed that he would be the green, while I would be the peachy color. Our relationship was awesome. We would go out and he would always ask me what I wanted to do and would never complain about it. He would laugh and have a good time no matter where we were. We never had any uncomfortable silences. The silence was soothing. We were comfortable with one another. But, I feel way before he did and ummm he had a situation that he never told me about. He was still married.

Needless to say, our relationship ended and our friendship continued. When I say friendship, I mean friendship. He's there when I need him and he understands me like no other. He gets me and he gets my craziness. He accepts me for who I am and we can still talk and hang out like we used to. I respect his marriage (now that I know he has one) and he respects my single life and the fact that I go out on dates. Why am I telling you this?

Well, someone came into my life soon after he exited who was single. He meet all the qualifications and we were off. We were soulmates. I wrote about him a couple of days ago, the post is titled "My Soul Mate?". Up until last night, I believed that we were. Everything was there. We could talk, we shared the same passion for baseball, had similar retirement plans...we were a match made in heaven.

Last night, over a sober game which lead into a conversation, two of my besties started to analyze my relationship. One more than the other. She asked me what I saw in my "soulmate." My reaction was like dude, you met him. You had a conversation with him. You told me you liked the way he interacted with me, the way he respected me and the way he gave me this caring look. I told her that she had given me the green light. Then she asked the question that changed everything.

"Other than your shared love of baseball, what else do you like about him?" Seemingly, this should have come easy. I should have been able to gush about him and my answer should have been, "where do I start?" Instead, I found myself struggling with why I like him so much. It was his eyes, his height...no....he's smart, he has a solid career....no...none of these things had anything to do with why? I mean, this is the answer that you would give a random person on the street, not a good friend.

When women break down men for other women. Women that you are not emotionally connected to, we tend to say "Look at him, why wouldn't I want him." When you break him down to another woman that you are emotionally connected to, you go deeper. You tell her how he makes you feel and you give her details, situations, small insignificant things that meant the world to you. When I couldn't come up with anything to tell her...she said the words that made me fall on my ass. I had the night to sleep on it and I have yet to get find my way back up.

She said, "You are not into him. You are settling. The person that you want is married and is unavailable. You feel that the closet you can find to him is your 'soulmate'. Your 'soulmate' is available and meet some of the qualities that Bruce has but he isn't Bruce. 'Soulmate' is an asshole and Bruce isn't. You are blind to him being an asshole because you are too busy thinking that you aren't going to find anything like that again. Think about it. Do you really want to settle?" Then the other bestie jumped in (she had been quiet this whole time) "You settled for your husband and look how that turned out." Then they both exited the room.

Well, I'm in analysis mode right now. But the point of this story is that friends are hard to come by. Friends that understand you, love you, and who give you harsh words for your improvement are a needle in a haystack. I have said this many times before and I will never tire of saying this. I am blessed to have the people that I have in my life. If friends are the family that we choose for ourselves, I've held on to a great set of people. Each one has their own personality, their own ways, and they have different backgrounds. The one thing that they all have in common is that they love me.

God has blessed me many times. From the family that I was born into, to the challenges I have had to face and overcome, to the people he has put in my path and has held there throughout the years. There's a calm in knowing that whatever dark times lie ahead, I have a solid support base. They know me well enough to know when I lie to myself and call me on it. My peace of mind is priceless and that's what friends do for you.