it's the most wonderful time of the year! i didn't do much last year for my birthday because my brain was still broken after moving (again). i'm already looking forward to making up for that this year.
here's a list of things i'll be doing throughout the next month or so. i've provided links where possible. join me or, if none of these work out, let's plan to hang out soon.
wednesday, december 5: sip & shop with bourbon women chicago at binny's lincoln park. this has become one of my favorite ways to kick off my birthday month. $10 gets you lots of bourbon samples, and you'll get to hang with me and some of my fellow bourbon women members.
thursday, december 6: elmwood blues' 65th birthday. yes, that elmwood blues. leave it to the fine folks at nisei lounge to come up with more reasons for me to give them my money.
sunday, december 9: bears vs. rams on sunday night football. will probably watch this at nisei.
tuesday, december 11: authors on the lake with rick bayless at theater on the lake.
monday, december 17: happy birthday to me! i'll be back at nisei that evening accepting birthday drinks and other salutations. candy cane malört is back, so it's entirely possible i'll be drinking that if i haven't already at some point that weekend.
thursday, december 20: official launch party for two lane gems, vol. 2. if you've enjoyed theresa's adventures as the local tourist, then you'll probably dig her latest book.
i'll try to post updates if any of these plans change. hope to see you at some point this month!
Showing posts with label friends. Show all posts
Showing posts with label friends. Show all posts
Saturday, December 01, 2018
Sunday, April 15, 2018
on: female friends
just finished reading this book and have spent a little time thinking about friendships between women off and on all weekend. the author discusses how making and maintaining friendships with other women used to be challenging for her, which, to be honest, is not something i can easily identify with.
i did appreciate that the author quoted a professor who pointed out that viewing friendships as an indulgence as opposed to a necessity, especially when you consider it along racial and socioeconomic lines. white middle and upper class women of a certain age were taught to focus their efforts on finding a husband and taking care of the family. friendships weren't seen as essential. for women who weren't as well off, though, friendships were a part of life. you had to have a network for helping with child care or job hunting or transportation or any other number of things.
that makes sense to me. i can't remember a time when i didn't have friends who are women (or who identify as women). looking back, i can't remember my mother or my sisters-in-law or any other women i grew up with not having female friends, either. after my mother died, i went to live with her best friend's family because daddy couldn't keep working and make sure i got to/from school every day. it was great for me because she had a daughter around my age and we were totally besties. there were always examples of friendships among women (particularly black women) for me to follow. while i heard all kinds of variations of "you need to be independent and be able to take care of yourself and not rely on any man to do it for you" growing up, there wasn't much discussion of how to manage friendships. maybe it was implied, based on how the adults in my world operated. of course you would have friends and spend time with them whenever possible and be there for them. that's just what you do.
i guess that's part of what made this book so fascinating for me. the notion of a woman feeling that friendships with other women aren't important or don't matter or are out of reach just does not compute. yes, i know there are plenty of "i don't like women" or "all my friends are guys" or "women are just too [insert adjective here] to be friends with" women out there. i wonder if they know what they're missing.
i also got to thinking about my female friends, and how they've navigated and continue to navigate various life changes (marriage, kids, deaths of family members or friends, moving, etc.) while maintaining the friendships that they've deemed worthy of honoring and respecting. how we've come to a point where we can identify the people who matter most to us and do what we can to make sure they know how important they are. it's not easy work by any stretch of the imagination, but we do it because the payoff is just so great. there are any number of women i could reach out to right now to chat about various things, both major and minor, and i hope they know they can do the same.
coincidentally enough, the sex and the city movie was on as i finished reading the book. i've seen the movie more than once and when i turned in this afternoon, it was near the end. even though much can and has been said about how the characters from the tv show/movie aren't as relatable as some people would like them to be, i'm still struck by how they stand up for each other. that's what friends are supposed to do. it's amazing when it works and i really think that's why we keep at it. friends are awesome and i am definitely a better person for having y'all in my life. 💜
i did appreciate that the author quoted a professor who pointed out that viewing friendships as an indulgence as opposed to a necessity, especially when you consider it along racial and socioeconomic lines. white middle and upper class women of a certain age were taught to focus their efforts on finding a husband and taking care of the family. friendships weren't seen as essential. for women who weren't as well off, though, friendships were a part of life. you had to have a network for helping with child care or job hunting or transportation or any other number of things.
that makes sense to me. i can't remember a time when i didn't have friends who are women (or who identify as women). looking back, i can't remember my mother or my sisters-in-law or any other women i grew up with not having female friends, either. after my mother died, i went to live with her best friend's family because daddy couldn't keep working and make sure i got to/from school every day. it was great for me because she had a daughter around my age and we were totally besties. there were always examples of friendships among women (particularly black women) for me to follow. while i heard all kinds of variations of "you need to be independent and be able to take care of yourself and not rely on any man to do it for you" growing up, there wasn't much discussion of how to manage friendships. maybe it was implied, based on how the adults in my world operated. of course you would have friends and spend time with them whenever possible and be there for them. that's just what you do.
i guess that's part of what made this book so fascinating for me. the notion of a woman feeling that friendships with other women aren't important or don't matter or are out of reach just does not compute. yes, i know there are plenty of "i don't like women" or "all my friends are guys" or "women are just too [insert adjective here] to be friends with" women out there. i wonder if they know what they're missing.
i also got to thinking about my female friends, and how they've navigated and continue to navigate various life changes (marriage, kids, deaths of family members or friends, moving, etc.) while maintaining the friendships that they've deemed worthy of honoring and respecting. how we've come to a point where we can identify the people who matter most to us and do what we can to make sure they know how important they are. it's not easy work by any stretch of the imagination, but we do it because the payoff is just so great. there are any number of women i could reach out to right now to chat about various things, both major and minor, and i hope they know they can do the same.
coincidentally enough, the sex and the city movie was on as i finished reading the book. i've seen the movie more than once and when i turned in this afternoon, it was near the end. even though much can and has been said about how the characters from the tv show/movie aren't as relatable as some people would like them to be, i'm still struck by how they stand up for each other. that's what friends are supposed to do. it's amazing when it works and i really think that's why we keep at it. friends are awesome and i am definitely a better person for having y'all in my life. 💜
Tuesday, February 27, 2018
on: grieving however tf you want
(originally written around 3pm today)
grief has been on my mind a lot lately. makes sense, given that this is the time of year when i go knee-deep into my feels because 4 of my favorite people died in february and march. today is actually the 21st anniversary of my father's death and i'm not really sure how i'm upright and functioning right now, tbh. i have definitely found myself on the verge of tears more than once today for no reason other than i miss my father, and my mother, and my brother, and my play auntie. all of them. fiercely. like, the pain is still kinda raw. surprisingly raw to me, even though i know enough to know that this time of year knocks me on my ass every single time and yet i find myself wanting to just dissolve into a puddle of my own tears and self-pity and bemoan the fact that almost all of the people i would walk through fire for are no longer around.
so, yeah. grief. y'know how people say that there's only one way to grieve and there's a distinct time period in which you're allowed to grieve. THAT IS BULLSHIT. it is complete and utter bullshit and i find myself getting riled up every time someone says it because it is so fucking false. we're all human, yes, but that does not mean that we're all wired to mourn and grieve the same exact way. some folks laugh through their tears because it's all they know how to do in that moment. others go completely silent. others still may hunker down and work and do all of the things in what appears to be a manic frenzy because that's their current coping mechanism. guess what? you and i have no say so whatsofuckingever on how they deal. none.
i really hope that, in my unfortunately long experience as a grief expert of sorts, i haven't inadvertently made y'all feel even worse than you already do by telling you that there's only one way to mourn someone or something. you are entitled to feel, or not feel, whatever you feel or not fell. everyone is different. every circumstance is different.
some examples for you. we held a wake for james the evening before his funeral. i don't remember crying much there, but i do remember marvin sapp's "never would've made it" coming on and carol and i, while involved in separate conversations, both calling for someone to turn that song off because we just couldn't handle it in that moment. after the wake, i met up with some friends at south loop club, where y'all had come through with balloons and brownies to help me feel better and i'm pretty sure a round of shots was involved. ok, possibly probably multiple rounds of shots, but you get my point. how dare i be out with friends knowing that i had to bury my brother the next day? what kind of mourning is that?
the same kind of mourning that had me hanging out with some of those same friends after james' burial. a friend's parents graciously offered their home as a gathering place, and so i found myself in northwest indiana surrounded by friends. i needed that, and god bless my friends for knowing me well enough to know that i'd need that and for giving me the space and ability to make that happen without having to vocalize it or organize it because i was not organizing a single solitary thing after all of the funeral preparations, thank you very much.
fast forward from 2009 to 2015. lori's funeral was on a sunday evening. i've written previously about how difficult that service was for me. i remember sitting in the choir stand after the funeral ended, bent over double and sobbing uncontrollably. i may or may not be tearing up as i'm typing this part. did i mention how i've been on the verge of tears off and on all day today? i'd sat in that choir stand next to or near lori for years when i was still an active choir member back in the day, and without asking anyone or saying anything, i decided to sit there during the funeral. it just felt right to me and i regret absolutely nothing about it.
anyway, there i was, seemingly inconsolable. i couldn't have moved in that moment if i wanted to. i remember a few folks just sitting there with me and passing me tissue once i started coming up for air, because they knew how much lori meant to me, to all of us, and that my breakdown was part of my process.
so of course i wound up at pippin's afterwards and drank as much jameson & ginger ale as i could physically tolerate. i don't quite remember how i got home after that, but i do remember one of my bartender boos asking if i wanted a regular sized drink or a "i had a bad day" drink, and me replying that i'd just come from a funeral and therefore i needed the most ginormous drink possible. i may have drank those cocktails from pint glasses that night. one of those drinks had grenadine added by accident because bartender boo wasn't paying attention, and i drank it anyway because feelings are the worst and so what if i was probably dehydrated from crying so much and couldn't remember if i'd actually eaten anything that day? grief does that, you know.
grief does lots of things. lots of different things. daddy died right before finals and therefore i tried to focus on finishing assignments and being ready to take exams once i got back to campus. i was staying with my oldest brother & his family, and i remember hearing him on the phone talking about how i hadn't broken down yet and how worried everyone was because i was, to their eyes, keeping everything on the inside. if you know about my family's dysfunctional tendencies, then it will come as no surprise that i was holding back around certain people because i knew i couldn't trust them to honor or respect my feelings or that they wouldn't know how to deal with whatever i'd decided to share.
no big shock, then, that i fell apart at daddy's grave site. i remember someone from the army presenting james with a flag in honor of daddy's military service. i looked over at james and the tears were just streaming down his face, and i honestly think i blacked out at that point. next thing i knew, i was sitting in a car with lori, appropriately enough, and another one of my aunts, i think, and being told to take some deep breaths. to this day, i don't know how i got from the gravesite and into that car. i don't know how long it took or how far away the car was or how long i was out of commission. i'd ask james or lori about it, but...well.
is it any wonder that i get irrationally angry whenever someone says that you must grieve or mourn a certain way and/or for a certain time period? my mother has been dead for 34 years as of march 1 and if you'd like to tell me that i should be over it by now, please meet me outside soi can fight you we can discuss this like mature adults. sure, there are days/weeks/months when the pain isn't as acute or fresh, but let's not pretend that everything is always puppies and kittens and unicorns and tacos and whiskey. it's not true for me and, if we're honest, it's not really true for any of us.
grief sucks. it's weird and complicated and the rules are ever evolving and changing even though grief itself seems to be a constant in our lives. it feels like it's never going to go away. sometimes it doesn't, really. sometimes, grief just shrinks enough so you can continue trying to live your life the best way you know how, but it's still there and will occasionally tap you on the shoulder like "o hai! let's have a good crying session at a really inopportune time because i'm an asshole!"
grieve however you want. whenever you want. anyone who says you have to get over it within a certain time frame is also invited to meet me outside soi can fight them we can discuss this like mature adults. if you're able to find some joy in the midst of your grief, whether it be enjoying the company of friends or remembering a lighthearted moment or going to a movie or just treating yourself because dammit you still deserve nice things, even better. if you're able, surround yourself with the people and/or things that you think will help you. if you'd rather get through it solo and just update folks when you're able to think coherently long enough to send a text or tweet or email, that works too. the world is going to shit, yes, but some semblance of it will still be around when you get back.
as always, i'm around if you want to talk/cry/scream/vent about or through your mourning, of if you just want some company while you sit silently, or if you want/need me to play enabler and help you eat and/or drink your feelings away, or whatever. selfish as it sounds - and maybe this is why people have a hard time dealing with folks who are grieving - this is about you and what you need to get through. it's definitely a "your mileage may vary" situation. what has worked for me may not work for you, and that's ok. you might not know exactly how to feel, or you may feel guilty that you're not feeling enough, and that is also ok. take a deep breath if you're able to, because sometimes breathing is hard when everything hurts and you just want to be still and not feel anything...not that i know anything about that whatsoever. nope, not me. totally well-adjusted and normal over here! 😜
reach out to your support system in whatever form that looks like for you. go online or use social media if it's easier/better than dealing with folks in real life. if anyone comes at you in a malicious way, ask them to meet me outside so i can fight them.
love y'all to the moon and back. keep trying to treat yourself the best way you know how. you deserve nothing less. 💜
grief has been on my mind a lot lately. makes sense, given that this is the time of year when i go knee-deep into my feels because 4 of my favorite people died in february and march. today is actually the 21st anniversary of my father's death and i'm not really sure how i'm upright and functioning right now, tbh. i have definitely found myself on the verge of tears more than once today for no reason other than i miss my father, and my mother, and my brother, and my play auntie. all of them. fiercely. like, the pain is still kinda raw. surprisingly raw to me, even though i know enough to know that this time of year knocks me on my ass every single time and yet i find myself wanting to just dissolve into a puddle of my own tears and self-pity and bemoan the fact that almost all of the people i would walk through fire for are no longer around.
so, yeah. grief. y'know how people say that there's only one way to grieve and there's a distinct time period in which you're allowed to grieve. THAT IS BULLSHIT. it is complete and utter bullshit and i find myself getting riled up every time someone says it because it is so fucking false. we're all human, yes, but that does not mean that we're all wired to mourn and grieve the same exact way. some folks laugh through their tears because it's all they know how to do in that moment. others go completely silent. others still may hunker down and work and do all of the things in what appears to be a manic frenzy because that's their current coping mechanism. guess what? you and i have no say so whatsofuckingever on how they deal. none.
i really hope that, in my unfortunately long experience as a grief expert of sorts, i haven't inadvertently made y'all feel even worse than you already do by telling you that there's only one way to mourn someone or something. you are entitled to feel, or not feel, whatever you feel or not fell. everyone is different. every circumstance is different.
some examples for you. we held a wake for james the evening before his funeral. i don't remember crying much there, but i do remember marvin sapp's "never would've made it" coming on and carol and i, while involved in separate conversations, both calling for someone to turn that song off because we just couldn't handle it in that moment. after the wake, i met up with some friends at south loop club, where y'all had come through with balloons and brownies to help me feel better and i'm pretty sure a round of shots was involved. ok, possibly probably multiple rounds of shots, but you get my point. how dare i be out with friends knowing that i had to bury my brother the next day? what kind of mourning is that?
the same kind of mourning that had me hanging out with some of those same friends after james' burial. a friend's parents graciously offered their home as a gathering place, and so i found myself in northwest indiana surrounded by friends. i needed that, and god bless my friends for knowing me well enough to know that i'd need that and for giving me the space and ability to make that happen without having to vocalize it or organize it because i was not organizing a single solitary thing after all of the funeral preparations, thank you very much.
fast forward from 2009 to 2015. lori's funeral was on a sunday evening. i've written previously about how difficult that service was for me. i remember sitting in the choir stand after the funeral ended, bent over double and sobbing uncontrollably. i may or may not be tearing up as i'm typing this part. did i mention how i've been on the verge of tears off and on all day today? i'd sat in that choir stand next to or near lori for years when i was still an active choir member back in the day, and without asking anyone or saying anything, i decided to sit there during the funeral. it just felt right to me and i regret absolutely nothing about it.
anyway, there i was, seemingly inconsolable. i couldn't have moved in that moment if i wanted to. i remember a few folks just sitting there with me and passing me tissue once i started coming up for air, because they knew how much lori meant to me, to all of us, and that my breakdown was part of my process.
so of course i wound up at pippin's afterwards and drank as much jameson & ginger ale as i could physically tolerate. i don't quite remember how i got home after that, but i do remember one of my bartender boos asking if i wanted a regular sized drink or a "i had a bad day" drink, and me replying that i'd just come from a funeral and therefore i needed the most ginormous drink possible. i may have drank those cocktails from pint glasses that night. one of those drinks had grenadine added by accident because bartender boo wasn't paying attention, and i drank it anyway because feelings are the worst and so what if i was probably dehydrated from crying so much and couldn't remember if i'd actually eaten anything that day? grief does that, you know.
grief does lots of things. lots of different things. daddy died right before finals and therefore i tried to focus on finishing assignments and being ready to take exams once i got back to campus. i was staying with my oldest brother & his family, and i remember hearing him on the phone talking about how i hadn't broken down yet and how worried everyone was because i was, to their eyes, keeping everything on the inside. if you know about my family's dysfunctional tendencies, then it will come as no surprise that i was holding back around certain people because i knew i couldn't trust them to honor or respect my feelings or that they wouldn't know how to deal with whatever i'd decided to share.
no big shock, then, that i fell apart at daddy's grave site. i remember someone from the army presenting james with a flag in honor of daddy's military service. i looked over at james and the tears were just streaming down his face, and i honestly think i blacked out at that point. next thing i knew, i was sitting in a car with lori, appropriately enough, and another one of my aunts, i think, and being told to take some deep breaths. to this day, i don't know how i got from the gravesite and into that car. i don't know how long it took or how far away the car was or how long i was out of commission. i'd ask james or lori about it, but...well.
is it any wonder that i get irrationally angry whenever someone says that you must grieve or mourn a certain way and/or for a certain time period? my mother has been dead for 34 years as of march 1 and if you'd like to tell me that i should be over it by now, please meet me outside so
grief sucks. it's weird and complicated and the rules are ever evolving and changing even though grief itself seems to be a constant in our lives. it feels like it's never going to go away. sometimes it doesn't, really. sometimes, grief just shrinks enough so you can continue trying to live your life the best way you know how, but it's still there and will occasionally tap you on the shoulder like "o hai! let's have a good crying session at a really inopportune time because i'm an asshole!"
grieve however you want. whenever you want. anyone who says you have to get over it within a certain time frame is also invited to meet me outside so
as always, i'm around if you want to talk/cry/scream/vent about or through your mourning, of if you just want some company while you sit silently, or if you want/need me to play enabler and help you eat and/or drink your feelings away, or whatever. selfish as it sounds - and maybe this is why people have a hard time dealing with folks who are grieving - this is about you and what you need to get through. it's definitely a "your mileage may vary" situation. what has worked for me may not work for you, and that's ok. you might not know exactly how to feel, or you may feel guilty that you're not feeling enough, and that is also ok. take a deep breath if you're able to, because sometimes breathing is hard when everything hurts and you just want to be still and not feel anything...not that i know anything about that whatsoever. nope, not me. totally well-adjusted and normal over here! 😜
reach out to your support system in whatever form that looks like for you. go online or use social media if it's easier/better than dealing with folks in real life. if anyone comes at you in a malicious way, ask them to meet me outside so i can fight them.
love y'all to the moon and back. keep trying to treat yourself the best way you know how. you deserve nothing less. 💜
Tuesday, February 21, 2017
on: trying not to burnout
a group of us went to dinner last week to celebrate quasi-landlord's birthday. as we got settled, the conversation turned to politics, as i suppose it tends to do during times like these. i asked if we could all agree that we disagree with the current administration and leave it at that, so that we could talk about other things and not get ourselves worked up. that was successful for about 15 minutes, so i asked again. one of quasi-landlord's friends realized that i was quite sincere about this and thankfully steered the conversation to another topic.
the tv in quasi-landlord's room is tuned to msnbc as i write this. at least once a week, i have to remind her that we have a variety of channels to choose from and if something or someone on msnbc is getting her worked up, then she should change the channel. i think this is easier for me to say because it's been months since i've actively watched msnbc for longer than, say, half an hour at a time.
it's not that i don't understand why so many people are so consumed with everything that's going on. i get it. i'm as scared and asangry livid, really as anyone else that stands in opposition to the current administration. i also know that giving into that fear and letting it take over my life is the absolute last thing i need. self-care is a necessity for all of us. i found myself nodding in agreement when this crossed my twitter feed last week because i do a few of these things already. i've also been using this activism checklist as a way to help me hone in on things i can do each week. i can't always get away from my desk to make calls, so i turn some of those scripts into emails for elected officials instead.
we're all being bombarded, and for some of y'all, this may be the first time you've felt this stressed out and hopeless and confused, and that's ok. what i need for all of us to remember is that this shit right here is not the end. we may need to find new and different and creative ways to unplug as needed. hell, we may need to get to the point where we can even identify the fact that we need to take a break. i'm pretty sure that the world won't stop turning if i take some time to read or listen to music or watch tv or hang out with friends without focusing our discussions on politics. (you can always ask me about northwestern men's basketball instead. this is the year, people!) the work will still be there. i promise.
do what you can, when you can, where you can, and hopefully we'll all get through this thing called life one way or another.
the tv in quasi-landlord's room is tuned to msnbc as i write this. at least once a week, i have to remind her that we have a variety of channels to choose from and if something or someone on msnbc is getting her worked up, then she should change the channel. i think this is easier for me to say because it's been months since i've actively watched msnbc for longer than, say, half an hour at a time.
it's not that i don't understand why so many people are so consumed with everything that's going on. i get it. i'm as scared and as
we're all being bombarded, and for some of y'all, this may be the first time you've felt this stressed out and hopeless and confused, and that's ok. what i need for all of us to remember is that this shit right here is not the end. we may need to find new and different and creative ways to unplug as needed. hell, we may need to get to the point where we can even identify the fact that we need to take a break. i'm pretty sure that the world won't stop turning if i take some time to read or listen to music or watch tv or hang out with friends without focusing our discussions on politics. (you can always ask me about northwestern men's basketball instead. this is the year, people!) the work will still be there. i promise.
do what you can, when you can, where you can, and hopefully we'll all get through this thing called life one way or another.
Tuesday, January 17, 2017
on: feeling isolated while surrounded
talked to carol today. there's all kinds of drama going on, some of which i alluded to on twitter, and i can tell it's taking its toll on her. she's been thrust into the role of caregiver again, this time for her father (and our pastor), and she told me how she feels like no one really understands what that's like for her, especially knowing that barring a miracle, there will be no recovery for her father. i understand it to a certain extent, having lost countless loved ones, but i don't even want to pretend to know what it would feel like to potentially lose both your husband and your father in a span of less than 10 years.
carol's like me in a lot of ways, and not just because we were born in december. we're both way too stubborn for our own good sometimes. we know friends and family would do their best to help out if we could articulate what we wanted/needed instead of just saying that we're tired. sometimes we believe that it's just easier to shoulder the weight and do it ourselves and worry about the consequences later. way deep down, we know that this isn't healthy, but we've so conditioned ourselves that this is the way it has to be that it's difficult to break that habit.
at one point during our conversation, carol mentioned that she'd called a family friend of ours to be potential backup in case some of the aforementioned drama gets even uglier. i had to laugh because i was already mentally writing a text to a friend on how i might need them to be ready to show up at a moment's notice due to said drama. then i had to pause because i heard a hint of loneliness in carol's voice and i knew better than to call her on it in that moment.
that's another thing we have in common. we can be surrounded by people we know and love and still feel like we're utterly alone. y'all know that this is something i've battled and am continuing to attempt to work through.
then i started thinking about jordan hankins. i didn't know jordan personally, but i can see the similarities in our stories. being a black woman at northwestern is not easy. i knew a fair number of black athletes while i was there and one of their constant complaints was feeling isolated from the rest of the black community on campus. knowing what i do about current campus conditions, my guess is that not much has changed. let me be clear in that i do not and would not dare to claim to know what jordan was going through. i would submit that it is possible, though, that she felt a sense of isolation even while being surrounded by teammates and friends and family. i hope her spirit is at rest now, and that those who knew her and loved her are able to find some peace.
carol's like me in a lot of ways, and not just because we were born in december. we're both way too stubborn for our own good sometimes. we know friends and family would do their best to help out if we could articulate what we wanted/needed instead of just saying that we're tired. sometimes we believe that it's just easier to shoulder the weight and do it ourselves and worry about the consequences later. way deep down, we know that this isn't healthy, but we've so conditioned ourselves that this is the way it has to be that it's difficult to break that habit.
at one point during our conversation, carol mentioned that she'd called a family friend of ours to be potential backup in case some of the aforementioned drama gets even uglier. i had to laugh because i was already mentally writing a text to a friend on how i might need them to be ready to show up at a moment's notice due to said drama. then i had to pause because i heard a hint of loneliness in carol's voice and i knew better than to call her on it in that moment.
that's another thing we have in common. we can be surrounded by people we know and love and still feel like we're utterly alone. y'all know that this is something i've battled and am continuing to attempt to work through.
then i started thinking about jordan hankins. i didn't know jordan personally, but i can see the similarities in our stories. being a black woman at northwestern is not easy. i knew a fair number of black athletes while i was there and one of their constant complaints was feeling isolated from the rest of the black community on campus. knowing what i do about current campus conditions, my guess is that not much has changed. let me be clear in that i do not and would not dare to claim to know what jordan was going through. i would submit that it is possible, though, that she felt a sense of isolation even while being surrounded by teammates and friends and family. i hope her spirit is at rest now, and that those who knew her and loved her are able to find some peace.
Saturday, December 31, 2016
on: light and miracles
a dear friend of quasi-landlord's (and mine, by extension) joined us for christmas dinner. i'd not seen him in months, and we were all looking forward to being together and catching up. in addition to his famous potatoes with chorizo (which i absolutely love even though i can never get them right whenever i try to make them myself), he brought a mexican hot chocolate torte (nom nom nom) and presents for all of us, which was completely unnecessary and yet totally thoughtful. the message of the card he included has stuck with me, so much so that i'm leaving said card on the windowsill near my bed so i can see it easily.
front of card:
"The light of Chanukah
reminds us to have faith
that miracles are on their way."
inside of card:
"Wishing you
a wonderful Chanukah
and every blessing
always."
his handwritten message:
"I know you're not
Jewish. But I
like the message of
this card. Even
in our darkest days
light will guide
our way!"
he's not jewish, either.
i was unable to tell him just how much this meant, especially in that particular moment, so i just leaned over and gave him a hug. score one for the universe.
i haven't made any sort of resolutions or intentions for 2017, but i think this is something that i wish for all of us, self included, in the coming year - that we be reminded of the power of miracles and that light will continue to guide our ways.
merry new year, y'all. here's to a fucking outstanding 2017 because holy shit do we deserve it. i love you.😘
front of card:
"The light of Chanukah
reminds us to have faith
that miracles are on their way."
inside of card:
"Wishing you
a wonderful Chanukah
and every blessing
always."
his handwritten message:
"I know you're not
Jewish. But I
like the message of
this card. Even
in our darkest days
light will guide
our way!"
he's not jewish, either.
i was unable to tell him just how much this meant, especially in that particular moment, so i just leaned over and gave him a hug. score one for the universe.
i haven't made any sort of resolutions or intentions for 2017, but i think this is something that i wish for all of us, self included, in the coming year - that we be reminded of the power of miracles and that light will continue to guide our ways.
merry new year, y'all. here's to a fucking outstanding 2017 because holy shit do we deserve it. i love you.😘
Friday, October 07, 2016
on: not expecting reciprocity
(now playing: lauryn hill's "ex-factor")
i was talking with a friend of mine a few nights ago and they asked me why i do the things i do for the people i care about, even when it may be obvious that i won't necessarily receive a similar level of consideration.
my response went something like this: "i don't do things like that because i'm expecting the other party(ies) to reciprocate. i do those things because it's the right thing to do."
i've been mulling that over ever since and it still holds true. something in my spirit or in my gut or some combination thereof will tell me to send that text or write that email or pick up that "just because" gift or send that quickpay or whatever and i am trying to be better about going with that feeling. would it be nice if i got that same kind of consideration in return? absolutely. as i tried to explain to my friend, though, that's not why i do these things.
never mind that the theory of reciprocity basically tells us that yes, we should expect a certain level of behavior or treatment in exchange for how we behave towards or treat others. i think once i started leaning in (and i typed that with my tongue firmly planted in my cheek) to this whole empath/caregiver role, a part of me realized that yes, this will be somewhat thankless work and yes, there would be times when i'd pay any amount of $ i could get my hands on to receive some sort of acknowledgment for it but no, that's not why i'm here. if i had to wait for these things to come back to me in some fashion, i'd never get anything done. i'm not always ok with it, but i accept it.
i saw this earlier and it kinda solidified my position a bit. i don't want to live a life where there are strings attached to my generosity. i need to be able to give of myself without worrying about if/how/when it's going to come back to me. i need to trust the process, which i swear is so much easier said than done. maybe that's part of the ongoing lesson(s) that god/the universe is trying to teach me.
i was talking with a friend of mine a few nights ago and they asked me why i do the things i do for the people i care about, even when it may be obvious that i won't necessarily receive a similar level of consideration.
my response went something like this: "i don't do things like that because i'm expecting the other party(ies) to reciprocate. i do those things because it's the right thing to do."
i've been mulling that over ever since and it still holds true. something in my spirit or in my gut or some combination thereof will tell me to send that text or write that email or pick up that "just because" gift or send that quickpay or whatever and i am trying to be better about going with that feeling. would it be nice if i got that same kind of consideration in return? absolutely. as i tried to explain to my friend, though, that's not why i do these things.
never mind that the theory of reciprocity basically tells us that yes, we should expect a certain level of behavior or treatment in exchange for how we behave towards or treat others. i think once i started leaning in (and i typed that with my tongue firmly planted in my cheek) to this whole empath/caregiver role, a part of me realized that yes, this will be somewhat thankless work and yes, there would be times when i'd pay any amount of $ i could get my hands on to receive some sort of acknowledgment for it but no, that's not why i'm here. if i had to wait for these things to come back to me in some fashion, i'd never get anything done. i'm not always ok with it, but i accept it.
i saw this earlier and it kinda solidified my position a bit. i don't want to live a life where there are strings attached to my generosity. i need to be able to give of myself without worrying about if/how/when it's going to come back to me. i need to trust the process, which i swear is so much easier said than done. maybe that's part of the ongoing lesson(s) that god/the universe is trying to teach me.
Friday, September 23, 2016
recipe* review: chili-rubbed tilapia
not even gonna lie to y'all: it feels weird as all hell to be posting a recipe review after my most recent post. i supposed this could also be considered part of the work - the attempt to resume pursuing normalcy in the face of heartbreak and chaos. i am still heartbroken, but i've only cried once so far today and i feel like that's progress. on the other hand, i am sleep-deprived as hell and my sinuses have been acting up all week and when i tell y'all that i am so looking forward to taking a benadryl later so i can get some relief and hopefully some sleep? my body is ready. literally.
anyway - got a text on tuesday afternoon from quasi-landlord while she was grocery shopping, saying that tilapia was on sale and asking if i wanted her to grab some for me. sure, i said, grab about a pound. i figured i'd cook on wednesday since i already had dinner plans on tuesday.
well, i wrote about what happened on tuesday, not knowing that wednesday was going to break me even more. my head is still reeling and my heart is still broken and after i'd written about wanting/needing a safe space for me and mine, the near & dear friend i mentioned in that post wound up staying here on wednesday night b/c everything was just too much at that point. one bright note, though - one of the library books i picked up this week is the companion piece to the kerry james marshall exhibit that the guy on the train & i discussed on tuesday night. gotta love that kind of timing.
while i was at work on wednesday, i remembered that i'd seen a photo of this recipe on instagram and it looked easy enough. i didn't want anything that required the oven because it was still a bit too warm for all of that. i walked in wednesday and realized that my friend and i were both starving, and this preparation seemed easy enough that i could handle it in my exhaustion.
i thought the fish was a bit too salty, but i didn't actually measure the salt so much as i eyeballed it, plus i was using freshly ground pink sea salt (s/o to costco), so your mileage will more than likely vary. i did not make the asparagus because i am weird about asparagus - i only like it when it's mixed in with other things, like soup or risotto, but not as a standalone vegetable or side dish. quasi-landlord took a whiff and declared the tilapia delicious even though she didn't actually eat any of it. it helps that the seasonings (as well as the fish itself) aren't things that will make her sick, so i'm sure this will end up in one or both of our rotations. i'm currently pondering a variation of it with lemon pepper instead of chili powder. i'll let you know if/when that happens.
anyway - got a text on tuesday afternoon from quasi-landlord while she was grocery shopping, saying that tilapia was on sale and asking if i wanted her to grab some for me. sure, i said, grab about a pound. i figured i'd cook on wednesday since i already had dinner plans on tuesday.
well, i wrote about what happened on tuesday, not knowing that wednesday was going to break me even more. my head is still reeling and my heart is still broken and after i'd written about wanting/needing a safe space for me and mine, the near & dear friend i mentioned in that post wound up staying here on wednesday night b/c everything was just too much at that point. one bright note, though - one of the library books i picked up this week is the companion piece to the kerry james marshall exhibit that the guy on the train & i discussed on tuesday night. gotta love that kind of timing.
while i was at work on wednesday, i remembered that i'd seen a photo of this recipe on instagram and it looked easy enough. i didn't want anything that required the oven because it was still a bit too warm for all of that. i walked in wednesday and realized that my friend and i were both starving, and this preparation seemed easy enough that i could handle it in my exhaustion.
i thought the fish was a bit too salty, but i didn't actually measure the salt so much as i eyeballed it, plus i was using freshly ground pink sea salt (s/o to costco), so your mileage will more than likely vary. i did not make the asparagus because i am weird about asparagus - i only like it when it's mixed in with other things, like soup or risotto, but not as a standalone vegetable or side dish. quasi-landlord took a whiff and declared the tilapia delicious even though she didn't actually eat any of it. it helps that the seasonings (as well as the fish itself) aren't things that will make her sick, so i'm sure this will end up in one or both of our rotations. i'm currently pondering a variation of it with lemon pepper instead of chili powder. i'll let you know if/when that happens.
Friday, September 02, 2016
leaning into a week of yes
why yes, i did have a nice trip visiting my friends a couple of weeks ago. as much as i love this city, it was good to get out of chicago for a bit.
we all know i was going to see "purple rain" at millennium park last tuesday. it'd been on my calendar since the movies in the park schedule was released. of course more people than usual were going to be there after prince's fatal overdose (no, i still can't say or type his name and "death" in the same sentence. shut up), but whatever. i had my lawn chair and my individual box of wine and my snacks and i was fully prepared to be by myself in a sea of people.
but then some of my monthly brunch boos said they were going, and i figured, oh, why not join them? it gave me an excuse to buy macarons from sugar bliss and re-up my levels of #blackgirlmagic and since i'd seen "purple rain" twice since april, i wasn't worried about missing a moment of catharsis.
i'm glad i went. it didn't matter that most of us had just seen each other a week prior at brunch. we caught up as if months had passed and we laughed and we sang and we drank and we ate and it's not as if i have a steady sleep pattern anyway, so who cares that i didn't get home until after 11 and still had to be functional at work the next day?
that very next day, one of my dear friends asked me out for wings and/or pizza. i'd had to decline a previous invitation because i was doing all of the things and needed to come home and do as little as possible, but that evening was clear and so i accepted. we ate and drank and caught up and one of her friends invited me to go sailing. more on that in a bit.
we're on...thursday? thursday night i took myself to the art institute (hooray for free evenings!) and spent some quality time with this exhibit before it closed. i also bought a pair of earrings at the gift shop because they were on sale and i really liked them and sometimes saying yes to yourself is a very good thing.
friday after work, i ran into a couple of girlfriends as i was walking to the train and decided to join them for a drink. they didn't believe i would only have one round and be done. i knew i still needed to pick up dinner and run a couple of errands and go home and tackle some laundry, and i did, and it was great...
...because saturday i'd already said yes to meeting friends at the bar to watch the cubs game and then go check out some live music. i got home at a decent hour, which was important because sunday morning was for sailing!
back to wednesday night. my friend's friend owns a small boat and during dinner, he turned to me and asked "what are you doing sunday?" i said it sounded like a trick question and he should just tell me what i was doing. "you're all coming out with me on the boat on sunday." ok. sure. turned out to just be the two of us and i actually got to steer the boat for a bit, which wasn't scary at all (it totally was!) and it was a gorgeous morning and i would totally go back on that boat again as a "passive sailer," aka someone who just sits and looks out on the water and doesn't actually do anything helpful. then we had lunch at the club, as you do, and i had a hibiscus mimosa and a couple other drinks with lunch and it was delightful.
this all happened because i decided to say yes and be willing to hang around people. obviously this does not always happen (she said while typing on her laptop at home on a friday night), but sometimes it's nice to be surprised by the results.
we all know i was going to see "purple rain" at millennium park last tuesday. it'd been on my calendar since the movies in the park schedule was released. of course more people than usual were going to be there after prince's fatal overdose (no, i still can't say or type his name and "death" in the same sentence. shut up), but whatever. i had my lawn chair and my individual box of wine and my snacks and i was fully prepared to be by myself in a sea of people.
but then some of my monthly brunch boos said they were going, and i figured, oh, why not join them? it gave me an excuse to buy macarons from sugar bliss and re-up my levels of #blackgirlmagic and since i'd seen "purple rain" twice since april, i wasn't worried about missing a moment of catharsis.
i'm glad i went. it didn't matter that most of us had just seen each other a week prior at brunch. we caught up as if months had passed and we laughed and we sang and we drank and we ate and it's not as if i have a steady sleep pattern anyway, so who cares that i didn't get home until after 11 and still had to be functional at work the next day?
that very next day, one of my dear friends asked me out for wings and/or pizza. i'd had to decline a previous invitation because i was doing all of the things and needed to come home and do as little as possible, but that evening was clear and so i accepted. we ate and drank and caught up and one of her friends invited me to go sailing. more on that in a bit.
we're on...thursday? thursday night i took myself to the art institute (hooray for free evenings!) and spent some quality time with this exhibit before it closed. i also bought a pair of earrings at the gift shop because they were on sale and i really liked them and sometimes saying yes to yourself is a very good thing.
friday after work, i ran into a couple of girlfriends as i was walking to the train and decided to join them for a drink. they didn't believe i would only have one round and be done. i knew i still needed to pick up dinner and run a couple of errands and go home and tackle some laundry, and i did, and it was great...
...because saturday i'd already said yes to meeting friends at the bar to watch the cubs game and then go check out some live music. i got home at a decent hour, which was important because sunday morning was for sailing!
back to wednesday night. my friend's friend owns a small boat and during dinner, he turned to me and asked "what are you doing sunday?" i said it sounded like a trick question and he should just tell me what i was doing. "you're all coming out with me on the boat on sunday." ok. sure. turned out to just be the two of us and i actually got to steer the boat for a bit, which wasn't scary at all (it totally was!) and it was a gorgeous morning and i would totally go back on that boat again as a "passive sailer," aka someone who just sits and looks out on the water and doesn't actually do anything helpful. then we had lunch at the club, as you do, and i had a hibiscus mimosa and a couple other drinks with lunch and it was delightful.
this all happened because i decided to say yes and be willing to hang around people. obviously this does not always happen (she said while typing on her laptop at home on a friday night), but sometimes it's nice to be surprised by the results.
Friday, June 17, 2016
on: finding and keeping joy at home
i'm having a helluva time with today being the one year anniversary of the charleston massacre. i think it's taken me this long to reconcile the sheer sense of fear and disgust and anger that i still feel about that shooting.
even though i wasn't directly impacted, it hurt me in a visceral way. i grew up going to an a.m.e. church with daddy and still went with him on occasion after i'd joined 1st c. daddy's funeral was at that same a.m.e. church and while i no longer considered it my home church, i still felt welcome. that's a great feeling, especially after the heartbreaking gossip that swirled about me. nothing says awkward like your father sitting you down to confirm that no, you haven't been sleeping with random deacons at his church while you were still in high school. yeah, that happened. ask me about it offline over a drink and i'll fill you in.
before charleston, i'd have the occasional nightmare of being at 1st c. or some other church gathering and some gunman (or woman) coming in and causing chaos. needless to say that i experienced that particular nightmare more than usual after the shooting last year. it still happens and it still hurts like hell. i can visualize myself sitting on a pew, surrounded by family and friends and their kids (some of whom are actually adults now but i still think of them as my church babies b/c i'm that kinda auntie) and trying my damnedest to make sure they're ok when the gunshots start ringing out. i don't think i can understate how fucking nervous i was the first time i went back to 1st c. after charleston. luckily i know that building well enough to know where the exits are and where i can duck and cover and the simple fact that i feel like i have to keep that knowledge somewhat handy is some bullshit.
sorry. got distracted and riled up there for a second. *takes a deep breath*
despite the people and policies and politics, churches are a place of refuge for me. i can sit and have a little talk with god (shouts to stevie wonder). i know i can do that anywhere and trust me, i do some of my best praying outside of church walls. but there's just something different about being in a church for me. it's soothing, really. i haven't been to 1st c. in months but i know i could walk in and be at home.
home. longtime readers know that i have strong thoughts and feelings about what home means for me. home isn't always about a physical place, which is a lesson that has been reinforced constantly for me during the past few years. if home is a physical place, though, you should feel safe there. the charleston 9 should've felt safe. the crowd at pulse in orlando should have felt safe. there are countless other incidents i could name where the people gathered should have felt safe. it breaks my heart and my spirit when these places of refuge are violated. y'all have heard me say god knows how many times that all i want is for the people i love to be safe and free and happy. that we are more than enough just as we are. it gets difficult to keep reminding myself and y'all of that in the face of horrific events like the charleston massacre and the orlando hate crime and yet it bears repeating. we are seen and we are heard and we are loved and we are more than enough. joy may be fleeting but it's ours, goddammit, and i for one am too stubborn to let someone just snatch that shit away without a fight.
even though i wasn't directly impacted, it hurt me in a visceral way. i grew up going to an a.m.e. church with daddy and still went with him on occasion after i'd joined 1st c. daddy's funeral was at that same a.m.e. church and while i no longer considered it my home church, i still felt welcome. that's a great feeling, especially after the heartbreaking gossip that swirled about me. nothing says awkward like your father sitting you down to confirm that no, you haven't been sleeping with random deacons at his church while you were still in high school. yeah, that happened. ask me about it offline over a drink and i'll fill you in.
before charleston, i'd have the occasional nightmare of being at 1st c. or some other church gathering and some gunman (or woman) coming in and causing chaos. needless to say that i experienced that particular nightmare more than usual after the shooting last year. it still happens and it still hurts like hell. i can visualize myself sitting on a pew, surrounded by family and friends and their kids (some of whom are actually adults now but i still think of them as my church babies b/c i'm that kinda auntie) and trying my damnedest to make sure they're ok when the gunshots start ringing out. i don't think i can understate how fucking nervous i was the first time i went back to 1st c. after charleston. luckily i know that building well enough to know where the exits are and where i can duck and cover and the simple fact that i feel like i have to keep that knowledge somewhat handy is some bullshit.
sorry. got distracted and riled up there for a second. *takes a deep breath*
despite the people and policies and politics, churches are a place of refuge for me. i can sit and have a little talk with god (shouts to stevie wonder). i know i can do that anywhere and trust me, i do some of my best praying outside of church walls. but there's just something different about being in a church for me. it's soothing, really. i haven't been to 1st c. in months but i know i could walk in and be at home.
home. longtime readers know that i have strong thoughts and feelings about what home means for me. home isn't always about a physical place, which is a lesson that has been reinforced constantly for me during the past few years. if home is a physical place, though, you should feel safe there. the charleston 9 should've felt safe. the crowd at pulse in orlando should have felt safe. there are countless other incidents i could name where the people gathered should have felt safe. it breaks my heart and my spirit when these places of refuge are violated. y'all have heard me say god knows how many times that all i want is for the people i love to be safe and free and happy. that we are more than enough just as we are. it gets difficult to keep reminding myself and y'all of that in the face of horrific events like the charleston massacre and the orlando hate crime and yet it bears repeating. we are seen and we are heard and we are loved and we are more than enough. joy may be fleeting but it's ours, goddammit, and i for one am too stubborn to let someone just snatch that shit away without a fight.
Tuesday, April 12, 2016
on: having or not having role models for living to a ripe old age
my boss' great grandmother celebrated her 107th birthday this past weekend. 107. there are days when i can barely count that high, let alone dare to dream of living that long.
and remember the 106 year old dancing with the obamas at the white house? that video makes me weepy every single time i watch it. there is just so much joy there, y'all. it hits me right in the feels.
but then i get to wondering about having those kinds of older women in my life; or, to be more precise, not having those kinds of older women in my life. my maternal grandmother died before i was born. my paternal grandmother died while i was in my early 20s. i'm not sure anyone in my immediate family has attempted to trace our ancestry beyond my grandparents and if they have, i certainly haven't heard anything about it. i'm sure i could and i probably will at some point just out of sheer curiosity.
instead of having older relatives or friends to marvel at because they're still alive and active and dancing and raising hell, i got to attend a funeral on saturday for a family friend who died at the ripe old age of 53. i know it's selfish to want an extended circle of folks all living long and prosperous and happy lives, and i know i obviously have no control over how or when folks die. the logical side of me can process all of that and accept it as valid.
can you blame me for wishing i personally knew a 100-something year old so i could listen to all of their stories like i'd never heard them before? that i could share their joy over dancing or music or a good meal or just laughing themselves silly? i totally plan on being the crazy aunt on someone's porch drinking spiked iced tea and saying whatever comes to mind and doing whatever the hell i want (within some semblance of reason, i suppose) and i'm just saying it'd be nice to have some personal role models for that kind of thing. thank god i can live vicariously through other folks' connections to the elderly.
i'ma go watch that dancing video again.
and remember the 106 year old dancing with the obamas at the white house? that video makes me weepy every single time i watch it. there is just so much joy there, y'all. it hits me right in the feels.
but then i get to wondering about having those kinds of older women in my life; or, to be more precise, not having those kinds of older women in my life. my maternal grandmother died before i was born. my paternal grandmother died while i was in my early 20s. i'm not sure anyone in my immediate family has attempted to trace our ancestry beyond my grandparents and if they have, i certainly haven't heard anything about it. i'm sure i could and i probably will at some point just out of sheer curiosity.
instead of having older relatives or friends to marvel at because they're still alive and active and dancing and raising hell, i got to attend a funeral on saturday for a family friend who died at the ripe old age of 53. i know it's selfish to want an extended circle of folks all living long and prosperous and happy lives, and i know i obviously have no control over how or when folks die. the logical side of me can process all of that and accept it as valid.
can you blame me for wishing i personally knew a 100-something year old so i could listen to all of their stories like i'd never heard them before? that i could share their joy over dancing or music or a good meal or just laughing themselves silly? i totally plan on being the crazy aunt on someone's porch drinking spiked iced tea and saying whatever comes to mind and doing whatever the hell i want (within some semblance of reason, i suppose) and i'm just saying it'd be nice to have some personal role models for that kind of thing. thank god i can live vicariously through other folks' connections to the elderly.
i'ma go watch that dancing video again.
Monday, April 04, 2016
what they don't tell you re: growing up
if you were anything like me back in the day, then you couldn't wait to grow up and be on your own. occasionally a family member would say something like "aw, don't be in such a rush to grow up. you'll have to pay bills and be responsible and you only have one childhood," or something along those lines. that was a trade-off i was willing to make, dammit. i'm more or less willing to be responsible and earn money and pay bills and do what i want, within reason.
here's the thing, though. i don't think anyone bothered telling us that one particularly sucktastic part of growing up is coming to terms with the fact that you will begin to lose family members and friends at an alarming rate.
some might think that since i've lost so many family and friends throughout the years that i'm more resilient than most when it comes to dealing with loss. oh man, would those folks be wrong as hell. i found out on friday night that another family friend from church passed away that day and the news sent me reeling. luckily i was sitting down when i heard about it and by the time my brain actually processed the words, i was mid-sentence and had to stop talking because i wasn't sure if i was going to start crying or screaming. neither happened, but there was lots of swearing. lots. a tapestry of obscenities may still be floating near the ceiling as i type this.
at one point, it slowly dawned on me that i am at the age where i have to be prepared to say goodbye to my play aunties and my play mothers. i do not like this. this is a pretty fucked up part of adulting and i would like to opt out.
i have been beyond fortunate to have a circle of older (relatively speaking - they're all older than me but i wouldn't call them "old" per se) black women, both from church and from other spheres of my life, that i can call on for advice or gossip or a quick word of encouragement or to read me the riot act or to just be there when i need them. this circle has been in constant formation for as long as i can remember. these were the women i could lean on when my family was driving me up the wall and i didn't think i'd survive high school without losing my mind. they held me up. stood by me. sometimes stood in front of me when i couldn't defend myself. they still do, but i have to accept that death will remove some parts of that circle and it hurts like hell. it really fucking hurts.
i told someone that this timing was particularly egregious because i'd just gotten through the stretch of february/march with all of the death anniversaries and other remembrances and now i can add april 1st (seriously, god - if this is your idea of a joke, I AM NOT AMUSED AT ALL) to that list. the hits just keep on coming and i might have to start adopting the tuck and roll position because attempting to remain upright is exhausting.
here's the thing, though. i don't think anyone bothered telling us that one particularly sucktastic part of growing up is coming to terms with the fact that you will begin to lose family members and friends at an alarming rate.
some might think that since i've lost so many family and friends throughout the years that i'm more resilient than most when it comes to dealing with loss. oh man, would those folks be wrong as hell. i found out on friday night that another family friend from church passed away that day and the news sent me reeling. luckily i was sitting down when i heard about it and by the time my brain actually processed the words, i was mid-sentence and had to stop talking because i wasn't sure if i was going to start crying or screaming. neither happened, but there was lots of swearing. lots. a tapestry of obscenities may still be floating near the ceiling as i type this.
at one point, it slowly dawned on me that i am at the age where i have to be prepared to say goodbye to my play aunties and my play mothers. i do not like this. this is a pretty fucked up part of adulting and i would like to opt out.
i have been beyond fortunate to have a circle of older (relatively speaking - they're all older than me but i wouldn't call them "old" per se) black women, both from church and from other spheres of my life, that i can call on for advice or gossip or a quick word of encouragement or to read me the riot act or to just be there when i need them. this circle has been in constant formation for as long as i can remember. these were the women i could lean on when my family was driving me up the wall and i didn't think i'd survive high school without losing my mind. they held me up. stood by me. sometimes stood in front of me when i couldn't defend myself. they still do, but i have to accept that death will remove some parts of that circle and it hurts like hell. it really fucking hurts.
i told someone that this timing was particularly egregious because i'd just gotten through the stretch of february/march with all of the death anniversaries and other remembrances and now i can add april 1st (seriously, god - if this is your idea of a joke, I AM NOT AMUSED AT ALL) to that list. the hits just keep on coming and i might have to start adopting the tuck and roll position because attempting to remain upright is exhausting.
Tuesday, February 02, 2016
it's the most wonderfully depressing and emo time of the year!
january kinda sucked for a lot of people, so i was happy to see it go. i then realized that my glee would be short-lived, as february and march are historically difficult months for me and this year will be no different. my annual wallowing in all of the feelings has nothing to do with the weather, though.
dealing with those three anniversaries would be enough, but this year marks the first anniversary of lori's death (february 4, 2015) and just typing that makes me want to cry.
every year at the beginning of february, i tell myself that if i can make it to march 15 without completely falling apart, then i'll be ok. i am usually able to get through those 6 weeks or so without any major meltdowns. sure, there's crying and there are days when i just wanna wallow in my feels, but nothing too traumatic.
i'm not so sure about this year, which is why i'm writing about it and putting it out here for y'all to see. i might need to lean on y'all more than usual between now and the ides of march.
when i was at the bar later tonight, my friend asked if i was ok. i said yes and they immediately called bullshit, b/c they saw something in my expression that wasn't quite right. i amended my answer, saying that i was ok overall but that i had some things on my mind, which was true. i was still processing the wave of grief from earlier and trying to figure out how the hell i'm gonna get through the next month or so without sobbing myself silly.
i don't know if it'll help that i currently have plans on lori & my father's death dates. maybe it'll be distracting enough that i won't completely fall to pieces and if i do, maybe i'll be lucky enough to do it in private and just sob myself to sleep.
this is one of the many reasons why i tell people that there is no timetable or proper way to grieve. i know i can still be knocked flat (figuratively and literally) by grief after all of these years and therefore everyone should be allowed the space to mourn in a way that feels right for them.
i have no idea what's going to feel right for me this year. i know enough to know that i owe it to myself and to y'all to be a bit more vocal about how this season (for lack of a better term) impacts me so it's not completely out of left field when (not even gonna lie and say "if") i have some sort of reaction.
so, yeah. happy february! :P
i don't know exactly when the death anniversaries of my mother and father started to impact me as an adult. my father died on february 27, 1997. my mother died on march 1, 1984. maybe it was after james died in march of 2009 (march 8, for those playing along at home) that i realized that hey, there's a method to this sadness.now i get to embark on my yearly quest to power through february and march without falling apart. whee!— auntie lori is my og (@queeneulalia) February 1, 2016
dealing with those three anniversaries would be enough, but this year marks the first anniversary of lori's death (february 4, 2015) and just typing that makes me want to cry.
every year at the beginning of february, i tell myself that if i can make it to march 15 without completely falling apart, then i'll be ok. i am usually able to get through those 6 weeks or so without any major meltdowns. sure, there's crying and there are days when i just wanna wallow in my feels, but nothing too traumatic.
i'm not so sure about this year, which is why i'm writing about it and putting it out here for y'all to see. i might need to lean on y'all more than usual between now and the ides of march.
my annual swan dives into a pile of emo have already started. i was at work earlier and a song came on that reminded me of some recent conversations i've had both with myself and with some other people, and i felt that being an empath/caregiver wasn't really worth it if i couldn't actually fix at least some of the things we're dealing with. i wanted to reach out to someone who would basically put me in check and remind me that i am not here to solve the world's problems and that there's only so much i can do. i wanted that person to be james, or lori, and the reminder that i couldn't text or call them just about shattered me. i was already missing james thanks to a different song i'd listened to earlier in the day, so i was already susceptible to a grief fit or whatever one would call it. i managed to pull it together by watching highlights of game 6 of the 2013 stanley cup final, which will always make me shed happy tears b/c holy shit that was awesome.gonna try to be better about reaching out for support or just saying i need to stfu for a while during this timeframe. i know y'all got me.— auntie lori is my og (@queeneulalia) February 1, 2016
when i was at the bar later tonight, my friend asked if i was ok. i said yes and they immediately called bullshit, b/c they saw something in my expression that wasn't quite right. i amended my answer, saying that i was ok overall but that i had some things on my mind, which was true. i was still processing the wave of grief from earlier and trying to figure out how the hell i'm gonna get through the next month or so without sobbing myself silly.
i don't know if it'll help that i currently have plans on lori & my father's death dates. maybe it'll be distracting enough that i won't completely fall to pieces and if i do, maybe i'll be lucky enough to do it in private and just sob myself to sleep.
this is one of the many reasons why i tell people that there is no timetable or proper way to grieve. i know i can still be knocked flat (figuratively and literally) by grief after all of these years and therefore everyone should be allowed the space to mourn in a way that feels right for them.
i have no idea what's going to feel right for me this year. i know enough to know that i owe it to myself and to y'all to be a bit more vocal about how this season (for lack of a better term) impacts me so it's not completely out of left field when (not even gonna lie and say "if") i have some sort of reaction.
so, yeah. happy february! :P
Monday, January 18, 2016
on: the friend(s) who got away
a friend of mine sent me this article a few days ago and asked me to share my thoughts once i'd had a chance to read it. since i'd been meaning to write a new post for at least the past week and a half, if not longer, i figured this was as good a reason as any.
and yet sometimes the best possible thing we can do is let some of those friends drift away. sometimes it's due to a major break, like the one the author describes in her article. other times it's because life just gets in the way and it's hard to keep track and keep in touch.
i've experienced both. i identified so strongly with the author's "breakup" with her friend because similar circumstances led to my falling out with my former bff. like the author, i've resigned myself to knowing that former bff and i will probably never talk to each other again, and if we do, it'll be nothing like it was when our friendship was active and intact. the last time we saw each other, i laid into her with a laundry list of reasons why i was pissed the entire fuck off at her, even though i knew my yelling wouldn't change anything about her behavior. and it didn't.
maybe that's our charge for 2016. to show up, to tell the truth, and to be kind. i already know i won't always be successful at it, but i can at least try, especially since i know that i can count on y'all to remind me of how valuable our friendships are and therefore i shouldn't completely fuck them up. :-)
"If our friends are the family we choose, then wouldn’t it stand to reason that our old friends must be treasured?"you would think so, right? with all of the work we put into choosing our friends, we'd want (need?) to hold our dearest friends as close as we can.
and yet sometimes the best possible thing we can do is let some of those friends drift away. sometimes it's due to a major break, like the one the author describes in her article. other times it's because life just gets in the way and it's hard to keep track and keep in touch.
i've experienced both. i identified so strongly with the author's "breakup" with her friend because similar circumstances led to my falling out with my former bff. like the author, i've resigned myself to knowing that former bff and i will probably never talk to each other again, and if we do, it'll be nothing like it was when our friendship was active and intact. the last time we saw each other, i laid into her with a laundry list of reasons why i was pissed the entire fuck off at her, even though i knew my yelling wouldn't change anything about her behavior. and it didn't.
"The strongest friendships are ones that have withstood the test of confrontation. It isn’t easy, I know. Our voices shake. Our palms grow damp. Our hearts beat a little faster. But when we tell our friends the truth of our hearts—even when it’s scary, especially when it’s scary—we are allowing ourselves to be seen and known."there's so much truth to this. i am probably more transparent on this blog (and twitter, to a somewhat lesser extent) than i am in real life, but i would like to think that it's a work in progress. that most of my friendships are at a point where we can own up to our shit and, if necessary, call each other out on our shit. it's not easy and i'm not sure it should be at times. and that's ok.
"You don’t need to like each other all the time. Just show up. Tell the truth. And be kind."i swear so much of being a good friend can be defined by simply showing up. sometimes i just need to know that someone else is there, even if i can't articulate why i need someone there. i think we all do.
maybe that's our charge for 2016. to show up, to tell the truth, and to be kind. i already know i won't always be successful at it, but i can at least try, especially since i know that i can count on y'all to remind me of how valuable our friendships are and therefore i shouldn't completely fuck them up. :-)
Monday, July 13, 2015
on: attempting to keep up the (good) work
PARTY TIP: True inner strength is not seeing any realistic way you're going to make it, but still knowing somehow... you will.
— ANDREW W.K. (@AndrewWK) July 13, 2015
if you follow me on twitter, then you already know that i retweet andrew w.k. at least once a week. this one particularly resonated with me because i've been mulling over the phrase "this is all part of the work" since yesterday. the phrase came to me while i was reading elizabeth alexander's "the light of the world" and having my heart broken into tiny pieces and yet feeling like she'd been spying on my life. i tweeted a few things from the book while i was reading, and then i had to jot down "this is all part of the work" and let it sit for a bit.
"if i cannot take a walk with you and talk my way to the other side of the dilemma, i am not enacting friendship." © @ProfessorEA
— eulalia (@queeneulalia) July 12, 2015
that's part of the work, i think - being able to walk with someone and talk our way through whatever's on our minds, or at least enjoying the silence while we're on our journey.meeting people where they are and occasionally leaving them there, as i've been trying to be more conscious of this year, is part of the work.
meeting myself wherever i am and accepting myself flaws and all? part of the work.
i've said more than once that this empath/caregiver role is not an easy one for me, and yet i have to admit that the more i accept this path, the better i feel. i was at a friend's birthday gathering last weekend and she asked us all to check-in with how we were feeling physically, spiritually, emotionally, and intellectually. i said that spiritually, i was feeling as strong as i'd felt in a long while, and that i was sure it had something to do with no longer denying this caregiver position i'm attempting to play out. emotionally, though? i was wiped out. so many of us (self included) are going through so many things in our own lives, not to mention being impacted by events far and wide and closer to home and everywhere in between, and there were definitely moments where i had just had to retreat for a bit so i could try to get my shit together before being able to reach out to others.
this is all part of the work.
Thursday, June 25, 2015
i wish you happy (hockey) feelings
it's no secret that i distinctly remember where i was when the blackhawks won the stanley cup in 2010, b/c that was the night troy & i decided to call it quits. we all know my memory can be shitty, but even i can recall that with little to no effort.
and then there was 2013. i definitely remember that one, despite my levels of unsobriety, b/c having the cup back in chicago that year meant so much to me during this whole divorce/eviction/couch-surfing/un(der)employment/what the fuck is happening to my life phase that i've been in.
and now 2015. omg you guys. i had to work during game 6 and as soon as i was able, i was on the train to meet my friends at the bar while listening to the radio feed on my blackhawks app and keeping an eye on twitter and it is entirely possible that i started crying on the train when i realized the cup was once again coming back to chicago. a friend and i had both said in october that we wanted the cup back in our city. our reasons were varied, but the sentiment was the same.
cta wasn't playing nicely and i missed all of game 6. i finally got to the bar to celebrate with my friends only to realize that the bar was closing up and i couldn't have a celebratory beer until i got home, which i totally did, obviously, because beer is delicious and if i couldn't have one at the bar (they seriously wouldn't take my money. i tried!) that night, then bedtime beer it was going to be.
i drank and cried and tweeted and talked to my friend and we cried a little on the phone because we can be sappy like that and everything was wonderful.
not just because of hockey, though.
i gave my 2 weeks notice at the library the night the blackhawks won the cup. why did i do that?
because i got a new job.
a full-time job, even.
a full-time job in my field.
a full-time job in my field that is going to pay me more than i've previously made in my career to date.
i start july 1.
a few of you knew about this already and i appreciate y'all keeping the news tucked under your proverbial hats. now that all of the pre-employment stuff is done and i am in receipt of an email that basically says "hey, all that paperwork and testing is handled and you can officially start july 1," i can shout this from the rooftops.
holy fucking shit i start my new gig next week. my last day at the library is saturday. i am freaking the entire fuck out.
so...suffice it to say that i was crying that monday night for various reasons. i was happy because the cup was back in chicago and i was happy b/c i'd gotten a job that is totally going to challenge me and kick my ass and i might be getting teary just typing this.
i still haven't seen game 6 in its entirety, but damned if i didn't cry every time i saw a condensed replay. hell, i cried while watching the video they showed at the blackhawks' victory rally.
so many happy feelings, you guys. i am totally crying right now, btw. quasi-landlord almost made me cry the other day. "i am so proud of you. you never gave up. you kept putting yourself out there because you knew that something better was within your reach and you got it."
it is 2015 and the cup is once again back in chicago and i am still in chicago and i have a new job. this is most exhilarating.
thank you all for your unwavering support. it means so much more than i'm able to articulate right now. :-)
and then there was 2013. i definitely remember that one, despite my levels of unsobriety, b/c having the cup back in chicago that year meant so much to me during this whole divorce/eviction/couch-surfing/un(der)employment/what the fuck is happening to my life phase that i've been in.
and now 2015. omg you guys. i had to work during game 6 and as soon as i was able, i was on the train to meet my friends at the bar while listening to the radio feed on my blackhawks app and keeping an eye on twitter and it is entirely possible that i started crying on the train when i realized the cup was once again coming back to chicago. a friend and i had both said in october that we wanted the cup back in our city. our reasons were varied, but the sentiment was the same.
cta wasn't playing nicely and i missed all of game 6. i finally got to the bar to celebrate with my friends only to realize that the bar was closing up and i couldn't have a celebratory beer until i got home, which i totally did, obviously, because beer is delicious and if i couldn't have one at the bar (they seriously wouldn't take my money. i tried!) that night, then bedtime beer it was going to be.
i drank and cried and tweeted and talked to my friend and we cried a little on the phone because we can be sappy like that and everything was wonderful.
not just because of hockey, though.
i gave my 2 weeks notice at the library the night the blackhawks won the cup. why did i do that?
because i got a new job.
a full-time job, even.
a full-time job in my field.
a full-time job in my field that is going to pay me more than i've previously made in my career to date.
i start july 1.
a few of you knew about this already and i appreciate y'all keeping the news tucked under your proverbial hats. now that all of the pre-employment stuff is done and i am in receipt of an email that basically says "hey, all that paperwork and testing is handled and you can officially start july 1," i can shout this from the rooftops.
holy fucking shit i start my new gig next week. my last day at the library is saturday. i am freaking the entire fuck out.
so...suffice it to say that i was crying that monday night for various reasons. i was happy because the cup was back in chicago and i was happy b/c i'd gotten a job that is totally going to challenge me and kick my ass and i might be getting teary just typing this.
i still haven't seen game 6 in its entirety, but damned if i didn't cry every time i saw a condensed replay. hell, i cried while watching the video they showed at the blackhawks' victory rally.
so many happy feelings, you guys. i am totally crying right now, btw. quasi-landlord almost made me cry the other day. "i am so proud of you. you never gave up. you kept putting yourself out there because you knew that something better was within your reach and you got it."
it is 2015 and the cup is once again back in chicago and i am still in chicago and i have a new job. this is most exhilarating.
thank you all for your unwavering support. it means so much more than i'm able to articulate right now. :-)
Saturday, May 23, 2015
still here
i honestly don't know how i'm still here some days, but i'm here. this week was a clusterfuck on myriad levels, ending with the news that a colleague's husband died suddenly this week.
one bright spot, if it can be called that, was this snippet from my colleague's family about the memorial:
have a good weekend.
one bright spot, if it can be called that, was this snippet from my colleague's family about the memorial:
In lieu of flowers, the family has made the following request: "Please donate to something very meaningful to your own beliefs - or in the ways of (redacted), befriend someone who needs a friend, or take someone to lunch who looks like they could use it."i'm not crying, you're crying.
have a good weekend.
Monday, February 23, 2015
when knowing the "why" doesn't make it any easier
i have been in a mood for the past, oh, 36 hours or so. bitchy, angry, depressed, sad, emo...whatever you wanna call it, i have probably experienced some variation of it since yesterday afternoon. i tweeted last night that i wanted to call off from work today because i was angry and i hated people and i just wanted to drink and make bad decisions.
i still feel that way to a certain extent, really. i would be more than happy to drink all of the drinks and leave someone else in charge of decision-making. i'm tired of being responsible and i would just like at least one day where i can just sit in relative peace and quiet and do as much or as little as i would like, preferably without pants. i miss having a place of my own where i could be as moody as i want to be and not have to justify it or talk about it or put on a happy mask.
work tonight wasn't terrible, but i still found myself wanting to be snippy when situations didn't really call for it. there have been a few anti-epiphanies floating through my head (part of why i kept waking up every 2-3 hours last night, which was as fun as you think it was) since this mood came on, but they weren't fleshed out enough for me to have a "aha!" moment about them.
it really didn't come to me until work was almost over. i am self-aware enough to know that a part of me is still in denial about lori's death. part of this mood is me dealing with that. the other part of this mood, though, is doing the math and remembering once again why february and march are so difficult for me at times.
the last time i saw my father alive was on his birthday, february 18, 1997. he died less than 2 weeks later. my mother died in march. james died in march. and now i can add lori's death date to the february calendar. this wasn't an "aha!" moment per se, but it damn sure helped me pinpoint why the hell i'm in such a mood. funny thing is, i was pondering booking a massage because holy shit the stress tension is real right now, but then i realized i might start sobbing on the massage table and that would be all kinds of uncomfortable.
instead, i will try to make sense of my thoughts and try to curb the urge to punch people in the face and try to make it through each day without dissolving into a puddle (well, in public, anyway) and we will see what happens. maybe one of these days, i will have a day off from adulting. i swear i would love nothing more than to relinquish my throne for a day and let someone else deal with all of this shit.
i still feel that way to a certain extent, really. i would be more than happy to drink all of the drinks and leave someone else in charge of decision-making. i'm tired of being responsible and i would just like at least one day where i can just sit in relative peace and quiet and do as much or as little as i would like, preferably without pants. i miss having a place of my own where i could be as moody as i want to be and not have to justify it or talk about it or put on a happy mask.
work tonight wasn't terrible, but i still found myself wanting to be snippy when situations didn't really call for it. there have been a few anti-epiphanies floating through my head (part of why i kept waking up every 2-3 hours last night, which was as fun as you think it was) since this mood came on, but they weren't fleshed out enough for me to have a "aha!" moment about them.
it really didn't come to me until work was almost over. i am self-aware enough to know that a part of me is still in denial about lori's death. part of this mood is me dealing with that. the other part of this mood, though, is doing the math and remembering once again why february and march are so difficult for me at times.
the last time i saw my father alive was on his birthday, february 18, 1997. he died less than 2 weeks later. my mother died in march. james died in march. and now i can add lori's death date to the february calendar. this wasn't an "aha!" moment per se, but it damn sure helped me pinpoint why the hell i'm in such a mood. funny thing is, i was pondering booking a massage because holy shit the stress tension is real right now, but then i realized i might start sobbing on the massage table and that would be all kinds of uncomfortable.
instead, i will try to make sense of my thoughts and try to curb the urge to punch people in the face and try to make it through each day without dissolving into a puddle (well, in public, anyway) and we will see what happens. maybe one of these days, i will have a day off from adulting. i swear i would love nothing more than to relinquish my throne for a day and let someone else deal with all of this shit.
Friday, February 06, 2015
on: a week full of feelings
omg you guys it's friday. if friday was an actual person, i might give it a hug or buy it a drink or something. holy christ. i remember being happy that january was over b/c january really was on some fuckshit for a lot of people i know and i was glad to see it go.
monday was lab work at the hospital before work. i schedule these tests right before work so i only have to make one trip up to evanston and not "lose" one of my days off. the problem, though, is that hospitals make me claustrophobic if i'm in one for longer than, say, 2 hours. luckily, i got to the hospital early (on the day after a blizzard, no less) and got in and out before i hit that threshold, but i totally felt myself on the verge of losing my shit. it also helped that i'd built in enough time between my appointment and when i needed to be at work to grab a late lunch and try to regain some semblance of normalcy.
tuesday was pretty productive, actually. i applied for jobs and filed my taxes (yay for making just enough to owe the government $10) and made an appointment to get my hair cut next week (i may or may not be considering cutting a significant amount of my hair, but i'm a wuss and who knows what i'll actually do). i also attempted to re-enroll in a health insurance plan (thank you, president obama!) but my doctor only accepts a plan that i'm not qualified for. at least i have the option of finding out if another doctor in the practice accepts one of my alternative plans.
wednesday. wednesday about broke me. first it was work-related stuff - my schedule might be changing a bit b/c of management [reasons]. then i found out that one of my nearest and dearest family friends died on wednesday. i know enough to know that i am still kind of in shock and/or denial about this news. i don't know when the funeral is yet, but i know i need to go and say my goodbyes and have all the feelings with my family, both of the blood relations and of the church variety. i also found out on wednesday that a bar in my neighborhood is closing and when i went there with a girlfriend wednesday night, the feelings kinda hit me out of nowhere. i realized that a lot of ladybrunches happened there right around the time that my life was going through all of the changes, so that bar was kind of a safe haven of sorts and now it's closing and omg feels.
yesterday my phone decided to stop functioning and verizon was nice enough to offer me an "upgrade" that would cost me more per month for half the data i'm getting now. yeah...no. at least i got my phone to work, thanks to all the experience i had resetting it back in november.
today was pretty solid, though, b/c i won free shoes from dsw. it's nice to be a winner. :-)
so, yeah. all of the feelings this week. at some point i will have some sort of meltdown (more than likely at the funeral) but until then, i'm relying on my ability to compartmentalize and i'll just keep swimming, just keep swimming...:P
monday was lab work at the hospital before work. i schedule these tests right before work so i only have to make one trip up to evanston and not "lose" one of my days off. the problem, though, is that hospitals make me claustrophobic if i'm in one for longer than, say, 2 hours. luckily, i got to the hospital early (on the day after a blizzard, no less) and got in and out before i hit that threshold, but i totally felt myself on the verge of losing my shit. it also helped that i'd built in enough time between my appointment and when i needed to be at work to grab a late lunch and try to regain some semblance of normalcy.
tuesday was pretty productive, actually. i applied for jobs and filed my taxes (yay for making just enough to owe the government $10) and made an appointment to get my hair cut next week (i may or may not be considering cutting a significant amount of my hair, but i'm a wuss and who knows what i'll actually do). i also attempted to re-enroll in a health insurance plan (thank you, president obama!) but my doctor only accepts a plan that i'm not qualified for. at least i have the option of finding out if another doctor in the practice accepts one of my alternative plans.
wednesday. wednesday about broke me. first it was work-related stuff - my schedule might be changing a bit b/c of management [reasons]. then i found out that one of my nearest and dearest family friends died on wednesday. i know enough to know that i am still kind of in shock and/or denial about this news. i don't know when the funeral is yet, but i know i need to go and say my goodbyes and have all the feelings with my family, both of the blood relations and of the church variety. i also found out on wednesday that a bar in my neighborhood is closing and when i went there with a girlfriend wednesday night, the feelings kinda hit me out of nowhere. i realized that a lot of ladybrunches happened there right around the time that my life was going through all of the changes, so that bar was kind of a safe haven of sorts and now it's closing and omg feels.
yesterday my phone decided to stop functioning and verizon was nice enough to offer me an "upgrade" that would cost me more per month for half the data i'm getting now. yeah...no. at least i got my phone to work, thanks to all the experience i had resetting it back in november.
today was pretty solid, though, b/c i won free shoes from dsw. it's nice to be a winner. :-)
so, yeah. all of the feelings this week. at some point i will have some sort of meltdown (more than likely at the funeral) but until then, i'm relying on my ability to compartmentalize and i'll just keep swimming, just keep swimming...:P
Saturday, January 24, 2015
on: meeting people where they are (and trying to accept yourself in the process)
one of the things i'm really trying to focus on this year is meeting people where they are. i mean that both in a literal sense and also more figuratively. if i know the only way i'm gonna be able to spend time with someone is by dropping by their job or meeting them for drinks or seeing them at church (in the case of my family, anyway) or whatever, then that's what i'm going to try to do. if i know someone's going through some shit but they just wanna keep things light/superficial and have a few laughs, then that's what we're gonna do when we hang out. you get the gist.
i struggle with this. i really do. as i get older and realize that my propensity for being a empath/caregiver is becoming more and more pronounced, the more convinced i am that i just want the people i love to be safe and happy. it's difficult because so many people i know and love are having issues of various kinds and holy hell do i feel their pain. i'd love to fix things for them but i can't and that leads to more pain and have i mentioned that being an empath is really fucking difficult sometimes? because it is.
i was catching up with a friend earlier this week and i was telling them about this new "mission" of mine, and how it all made sense in my head and how i'm hoping it'll help me be a better friend by letting go of some of my type-a minus tendencies (which is a struggle in and of itself, let me tell you). the conversation moved on to other things, like how i've been thinking about letting go of my "let me get a full-time job and move back into my own place and maybe then i can think about the possibility of dating and (re)establishing a social life, etc." plan and just let whatever happens, happen.
my friend, in their ultimate active listener wisdom, looked at me and said, "you know how you want to meet people where they are? you need to meet yourself where you are, too."
not gonna lie, that kinda stopped me in my tracks for a second. "i know you already know this. it's in your head. you just needed to hear someone you trust to hold up the mirror and say it back to you."
sometimes i hate my friends for being so gotdamn right all the time. :P
it's true, though. i accept that we are all broken in our own myriad ways and as much as i really want y'all to be safe and happy, that's not always possible...hence the meeting people where they are. if i'm really gonna be effective in this whole meeting people where they are, then i need to meet myself wherever the fuck i am, too.
i struggle with this. i really do. as i get older and realize that my propensity for being a empath/caregiver is becoming more and more pronounced, the more convinced i am that i just want the people i love to be safe and happy. it's difficult because so many people i know and love are having issues of various kinds and holy hell do i feel their pain. i'd love to fix things for them but i can't and that leads to more pain and have i mentioned that being an empath is really fucking difficult sometimes? because it is.
i was catching up with a friend earlier this week and i was telling them about this new "mission" of mine, and how it all made sense in my head and how i'm hoping it'll help me be a better friend by letting go of some of my type-a minus tendencies (which is a struggle in and of itself, let me tell you). the conversation moved on to other things, like how i've been thinking about letting go of my "let me get a full-time job and move back into my own place and maybe then i can think about the possibility of dating and (re)establishing a social life, etc." plan and just let whatever happens, happen.
my friend, in their ultimate active listener wisdom, looked at me and said, "you know how you want to meet people where they are? you need to meet yourself where you are, too."
not gonna lie, that kinda stopped me in my tracks for a second. "i know you already know this. it's in your head. you just needed to hear someone you trust to hold up the mirror and say it back to you."
sometimes i hate my friends for being so gotdamn right all the time. :P
it's true, though. i accept that we are all broken in our own myriad ways and as much as i really want y'all to be safe and happy, that's not always possible...hence the meeting people where they are. if i'm really gonna be effective in this whole meeting people where they are, then i need to meet myself wherever the fuck i am, too.
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