Search

Putting the CL on that ASS!

A Bernie's Daughter Thing

Open Search

Why I’m Totally Against Playing Matchmaker

I’ve been single since my divorce, which has been 7 years and counting now. That seems to be a fun fact that bothers everyone but me. I say this because for some reason, people love to decide all on their own—with no prompting from me—that they are going to “hook me up” with someone. Now, I’m going to be honest. I am not, nor have I ever been a fan of matchmaking. My thinking is if you are not a professional, don’t do it. I don’t practice it. I feel even more strongly about this after having been the victim of so many well-intentioned (at least I hope they were) horrible hook ups. This strong feeling only intensified after my horrible experience a few weeks ago at my cousin’s wedding reception.

Picture it: Cooper’s Hawk Winery. A quaint little restaurant in Oak Lawn, IL. I’m with my daughter partaking of the celebration for my cousin and her new husband. I see my aunt wave to me from across the room. She motions for me to come over to her. I walk over to her and she begins to ask me about my hair. She raves about how cute it is and how much she likes it. I politely say thank you and believe that’s the end of it, when she does a most strange thing. She angles me so that I can face the gentleman sitting next to her and makes a sweeping Price-Is-Right showcase model type motion across me as she looks at the gentleman and says, “This is my niece, Je’Niece. She went to Xavier University of Louisiana and she has a Master’s degree.” I find this rather odd, especially when you consider I graduated from grad school over a decade ago. So it’s not like she was announcing my latest accomplishment, or that she was announcing it to the room. No, this was meant as a selling point to one individual. The gentleman makes some small talk with me and I initially think nothing of it, until . . . My aunt, for no reason that I can think of, save for she must have experienced a late onslaught of Tourette’s Syndrome, boldly (and rather loudly might I add) says “Y’all should go out on a date!” At this point, I can’t hide the shock and confusion and so I ask, “How in the world did we get to that?” to which she replies, “Y’all both single.”

And there it was. The idea that my singleness was a condition, which required unnecessary and unsolicited help to alleviate. God forbid that I simply enjoy the reception without having a date forced upon me. I’d like to tell you that’s where it ended, but alas, I cannot. Nope. It went on. Sensing the hair bit was a ruse on my aunt’s part to get me to the table to meet this gentleman caller, I returned to my table. However, I believe the man received more prompting from my aunt so instead of reading the social cues I exhibited; he chose to listen to her and continue to pursue me. I, not wanting to be rude–and also trying to pay more attention to my daughter and the people at our table–continued to be polite. However, that didn’t help me much, since it seemed to give the gentleman a green light to pursue me. At long last, I decide it’s time to go. However, before I could make my great escape, my aunt walked over to me and announced, “Je’Niece he wants your number!” At this point, I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. She senses this and asks, “What, you don’t like him?” I responded by saying, “I don’t know him.” She goes, “Well do you want to know him?” to which I said, “Not particularly.” She then says, “Well why not? He’s single.” There was definitely more to the story but I share this with you to illustrate why I am adamantly against matchmaking.

1. Most people just aren’t good at it. Sure everyone thinks they’re a regular cupid who can magically bring two people together to create the cutest couple.  And why shouldn’t they? It’s simple. You just take two people; mix in some common ground, and Voila! Instant relationship. Right? Wrong! There is actually so much more that goes into bringing two people together to create a relationship. And most laypersons just don’t understand this. The average person simply picks two people they like and attempt to throw them together on some very arbitrary trait.   I like John. And I like Mia.  I will like John and Mia together. Yay! See my aunt’s logic as to why I would fit great with the gentleman. We were both single. That’s all that was needed.

2. It’s awkward as hell. Most people decide to play matchmaker without actually considering the parties involved. As with my aunt, she never even asked me if I was interested until AFTER the man sensed my rejection. If she’d asked me beforehand, she could have saved my aggravation and her gentleman friends feelings. And this isn’t the first time something like this has happened to me. It’s happened far too many times. One Christmas Eve at a family function, one of my grandmother’s church members was at the house. I noticed he kept hanging around me, but I thought it was simply because we were close in age, as everyone else was either much younger or much older than we. Nope. Not to be. One of my other aunt’s later pulled me to the side and announced more than actually asked, “You know I invited him here for you, right?” She was actually shocked when I answered “No.” I had to ask, “Did I ask you to?” She admitted that no I didn’t, but she just thought it would be a good idea for me to get with him since he and I were both single. Again, it made for an awkward night because she’d sent homeboy on a blank mission that he would not complete.

3. When considering the “couple,” most people don’t consider anything beyond the superficial. When people decide to play matchmaker, they don’t usually think about what will be the foundational glue to hold the two people together. Instead, they think, John likes money and food. Mia likes money and food. They can like money and food together! Yes commonalities are great. However, human beings are much too complex to reduce to simple commonalities. A relationship needs more than common surface traits to thrive. My best friend once tried to hook me up with one of her co-workers. She didn’t ask me if I wanted this. She didn’t even ask the coworker if he wanted it. She simply decided that she would do this and it would be great. Her logic was that I was cool, he was cool, and we were both into that “hippy-dippy” stuff. I mean, look at my aunt’s logic. Both the gentleman and myself were single. ‘Nuff said. If that wasn’t the making for a beautiful relationship, then I don’t know what is.

4. Most don’t know how to play their role. If you are playing matchmaker, then you know you role isn’t a participatory one. You are simply a liaison. A consigliere, if you will. You’re a conduit, which connects the two people. But then you back off and allow things to unfold as organically as they possibly can. However, the average layperson doesn’t understand this. They think they need be involved in the entire process, oftentimes trampling over their desired couple’s free will. They will stalk both parties to make sure calls were made, dates were done, what follow-ups are necessary. Take my aunt, for example. She felt it necessary to do the gentleman’s bidding for him and get my number to pass to him, instead of facing the fact that he took his shot and missed.

5. Frankly, I’m quite tired of other people trying to decide my fate. Ok, so this point doesn’t actually support my case, but it’s the truth. I am not the single friend who laments about her single status. So there’s no need for anyone to think that I need help with my single status. On the contrary, I’m quite content. So I grow tired of other people deciding that they’ve had enough of my single status and I need to be in a relationship simply because of their own stuff. Just let me live dammit! Why won’t they let me be great?!

All I’m saying is that people should play their roles. And if you are not Patti Stanger, or some other professional matchmaker, odds are pretty low that you’re skilled in that area. So that means, you best leave that area alone—as well as the people you’re messing with. I can’t speak for everyone, but I can speak for me. Trust me when I say, it’s not welcome. At all. And don’t get me wrong.  I’m all for love. And I’m not against two people meeting through a mutual friend.  But I think most people should leave the forced love connections alone.

7

You Are Worthy. Do You Even Know What That Means?

Happy, Magical Friday! You may wonder why I am calling it magical. Well, it’s because you’re here. And I don’t say that lightly. Believe me, I struggle quite often with seeing myself and this world as magical. There are days when I’m feeling anything but magical. There are days when I just want to pull the covers over my head and stay in bed because it feels better than the alternatives. And I can honestly say that I’ve had more of those days than many people believe. And then something happens. My daughter may say something that sends a surge of love through me. Someone I love may call me and give me the exact message I needed to hear at that moment. I may even read a book that speaks to my soul. And I’m reminded of the beauty that lies within. I’m reminded that life is bigger than my feelings. I’m reminded that Honey, it’s not that life is magical. No, it’s that I’m the magic! And so are you. And then I get up and remember like L’oreal says, “I’m worth it.”

2

I saw a video today of a young lady who I truly believe had great intentions. The topic was things a woman needs to do to keep her man. I actually began to check out at the moment I heard “how to keep your man.” However, I’m working on practicing the art of non-judgment as well as being open to opinions and thoughts that differ from mine. So I watched. I was not impressed. There were some things she said that I could sort of, kind of, maybe, quite possibly agree with. However, there were more than a few things that I could not. One of those things involved fixing your man’s plate because, as she said, a man should never ever have to fix his own plate. The other thing that rubbed me the wrong was the mention that a woman should be so in tune with her man that she anticipates his needs so that he doesn’t even need to ask for what he wants. She’ll already know. Because she knows, she will do get whatever he needs.

Now, I could say I didn’t like what she said and I disagree because of sexism. I could say that I have grown tired of the trite “Wam-Bam, Get Your Man!” “Don’t Go To Sleep, If It’s Your Man You Want To Keep!” messaging geared toward women which speaks on how they need to get and keep a man. I can say it’s ridiculous to believe that one should be able to–and consequently can–read another’s mind. As if one is not responsible for speaking up for their needs and wants. I could say how illogical it is to think that it is actually possible to “keep” another person, since realistically speaking, one cannot do such a thing. People remain in relationships; and faithful or unfaithful to their beloved; by their own volition. However, those are not my issues with the video I saw today, or the many others out there like it.

No, none of those are truly my issue. I dislike and disagree with the message because I do not like the generalized nature of the message. Human beings are far too complex to simplify their behavior. While I understand that a 7 minute video, which I myself share from time to time ; ), requires one to get to the point quickly and succinctly, I cannot get with a step-by-step instructional on how to maintain a relationship. There are far too many complexities to even attempt to surmise that there is a certain number of steps that will guarantee your partner will want to remain in relationship with you. Let’s say you do all of these so-called steps, yet you and your partner part ways for reasons unrelated to those steps. Would one be able to surmise that you failed?

There is also the fact that relationships end for a multitude of reasons. Relationships are simply our very own intimate class, where we are provided opportunities for growth, death, rebirth, and more growth. Once the growth has stopped, the relationship ends. You reach a point where it is made evident that you can go no further together because you have gone as far as you can. For some, the end happens with a physical death of the body. For others, it happens when there is a death of love, trust, or respect. And yet for others, the relationship can simply change course.

The other reason I disagree is because I really dislike the transactional view of relationships. I cannot get with the idea of I’ll-scratch-your-back-if-and only if-you-scratch-mine in a relationship. I say that with the full understanding that in practical terms, there is a bit of transactional play in relationships. However, I don’t think it’s the least bit healthy to enter into relationships with the mindset of I’ll only do my part if you do yours. I think that mindset is what has cost many relationships. I’m not quite sure what it is about romantic love that makes us mere mortals lose our grip. We place a tremendous amount of pressure on our lovers and on our relationships. I think it’s far better and simpler to figure out what you desire, what your strengths and weaknesses are, and what you are willing/unwilling to do within the relationship. Once you’ve done those things, then you can seek to find someone who will not only accept all of those things in you, but also take you and stretch you to your limits. Only then can you know and experience real love. And that, my friends has nothing to do with any steps or instructions. That is all an unspoken language that only the heart can speak and comprehend.

So that’s just my two little cents. I don’t say any of this to disparage the messenger or anyone who agrees. I like to chew on and digest what speaks to me and leave the rest. That’s exactly what I did today. And I wholeheartedly believe that she had the best of intentions. And there were many people who, based on their comments, agreed with her. It was touted as conventional wisdom. But as a wise man I’ve heard once said, “Conventional wisdom is usually neither conventional or wise.” And again, that’s just me.

0

Who Do You Say You Are?

Happy New Year! I’ve been going back and forth between excitement and dread since the turn of this new year of our Lord. Excitement because the optimist in me believes that I am closer to the true joy that I long for. I believe doors are going to open that were once closed. Dread because the little doubter in me is afraid that it might not happen. So that what if it doesn’t pops up now and again. So what do I do? I sit back and watch the two battle ’til the death for it. Well not really. But it would make for an interesting show.

Anyway, as the sun revolved around this here earth for one more ‘gin, I was hit with an unexpected circumstance. Initially, it made me really sad. Someone who believes they know me accused me of being some things that I’m not. But as I sat with it, I began to feel better because I was reminded of how far I’ve come. I know this person was either truly mistaken or simply lying because I am not the things that I was said to be. But I remember a time when I wouldn’t have known the truth of that. I remember a time when I would have simply believed what this person said because I unknowingly would have assumed this person was in authority over my life. Thank goodness for growth and wisdom because today I know better. Today, I know who I am. And any time I’m confronted with a moment like this, I ask myself the question, “Well who do you say you are, Je’Niece?” It’s proven to be a good practice for me.

As we go forth into this 2016th year, may we all take a moment to ask ourselves the question so that we can root ourselves firmly in the knowledge of who we are. Happy New Year again!

3

The Thing About Family

We are in the vortex of the holiday season. A time of merriment, wonder, love, and community. Or is it? For some of us, yes it’s true this is a time of joy and gathering. However, for others, it’s the opposite. For some of us, the holidays bring about a spirit of depression, loneliness, and even dread. Some of us have no families or communities to gather around. Some of us may have families, but we know a seemingly harsh truth, and that is family and relatives are not the same.

When I was younger, my father would find random moments to teach and philosophize with me about life–or as he called it, to spit venom. A simple request to go to the store could be met with “Let me tell you this”, as he would then proceed to give me whatever was the lesson of the day. He would even tell me, “You may not understand what I’m saying to you right now. But one day you’ll look back on things and you’ll see.” Well of course, tiring of him always being right, I vowed that I would never understand. And I swore to uphold that vow until my dying day. But today, I am happy to admit that I was so wrong. My father was right. I do understand. I understand a lot of what he said to me and what he tried to instill in me. I initially thought he was so cold, for attempting to teach me this lesson. I now know better. And that is what I said earlier. Family and relatives are not the same thing!

My father’s version of this lesson went something like this: “Don’t get caught up in the titles of folks. Just cause somebody is your family doesn’t mean they have your back. Family will do you worse than a stranger on the street. You know Cain killed Abel.” Yikes! Sounds harsh doesn’t it? I certainly thought so. I couldn’t fathom someone in my family not being happy for me, not supporting me, or being there for me. Until one day, I found myself having to face this very truth. There are more than a few family members who I learned did not want the best for me. They are not happy for me when things go well for me, and they actually seem happy if things don’t work out in my favor. The experience left me shell shocked because it went against everything that I thought I knew. I felt robbed. I felt cheated. I had been had, hoodwinked, bamboozled, and well you know the rest. I went into victim mode: “How could they?” And I really did wonder how could they. I certainly hadn’t done anything to them. I lamented over my pain and let my heart bleed. I picked at the scabs on my bleeding heart just so that it would bleed again. I did this for a while until one day, I found myself surrounded by a group of wonderful people who were encouraging, supporting, and nurturing. They praised me where I was strong and offered loving reproof where I was weak. A couple of them have been around for many years and others were new additions to my life, but they shared the same thing: they all genuinely love me. I looked around and heard my father’s voice telling me “I told you!”. I believe Oprah would call it my “Aha moment”. I got the lesson: Family and relatives are not the same thing! Oh! So I’ve had it wrong all this time? So it takes more than a shared genetic link to make someone your family member? Having the same last name does not a family make? Being born into a group does not necessarily make that group a family? If not, then what does make someone your family? Well, as I mentioned of my group, a family is a group of people who come together in the name of love. And when I say love, I don’t mean merely in words. I mean in action. It is very easy to tell someone you love them, but if you are not acting in love, those words are in vain. Such is the case with my relatives. Family is the group of people who seek to understand you, love you, offer you support and encouragement, help when they see you need it and loving reproof to help you become better.

Now sometimes, some of your relatives are also your family members. But there are those relatives who just are not your family. And the thing is, that’s ok. I know this is the time of year when we focus on love and family and some of us feel bad because we don’t like being around relatives, or maybe we don’t have too many family members to gather around. But if you have a group of people who you know love you and have your back, you can rest assured that you have a family. And sometimes those people won’t have your last name or genetic link. And again, that’s ok. Whether your group is as large as the multitude that Jesus fed, or as small as a party of 2, you have a family. Most times, your family won’t look the way you imagined. (I certainly know mine doesn’t.) And while they may not be relatives, a family is much better than a group of relatives any day.

Regardless of what it is, I hope these times find you happy and full of joy. And if you are feeling a bit bah humbuggy, I understand.

0

Stripped Away Truth

Hey there! I know I have been so inconsistent with my posts. But I’ve been in a really contemplative state. So this is the time of year when I do a lot of work–not necessarily manual labor, but more spiritual. I spend a lot of time working on myself, releasing old habits and things that no longer serve; learning new more serving ideologies, methods, etc. and incorporating them into my life.

As I look forward to releasing this here year of 2015, I was faced with the questions of “What is your truth? And how did you find it?” Well don’t you know those are some darn tootin’ good questions?! And I was really happy to have been asked them because it allowed me the space to answer. Soooo . . . Here’s what I was able to gather for myself. But what about you? What’s your truth? And how did you find it?

0

The Stories We Tell

Oh! what a tangled web we weave
When first we practise to deceive!

from Marmion, the epic poem by Sir Walter Scott

I’ve said this line many times in my life.  I’ve heard others say it as well.  And it’s become so commonplace that I’ve really lost the meaning of it.  I mean, at first glance, it resonates deeply with me.  I don’t like when someone lies to me.  Moreover, I don’t like to lie.  I hate lying.  I’m terrible at it. And the way my conscious is set up . . . I’m terrible at it! But I started thinking about the state of relationships–not just mine, but the ones of those I love and the ones I see reflected in the universe.  There seems to be a disconnect in relationships.  And it’s so odd to me.  We love to say how much we love love.  We love to say how much we love the ones we . . . hurt the most.  So often, we tend to take for granted the ones we claim we love the most.  We allow a lot of things said and done, not said and undone to come between us and the ones we love.  And then, you know what we do with that? We make up a whole story about it!  A good, juicy story that only seems to get better the more we tell it.  Details get added. Inflections get thrown in.  Oh yes, the story gets real good.

So going back to Sir Walter’s line.  What a tangled web we weave indeed when we practice to deceive. But today I’m not talking about the intentional deceit.  I’m not talking about the lies we tell when we’re fully aware that we’re lying.  I’m talking about the unconscious deceit. The stories we create that go on to create deep, gaping valleys of disconnect between us and the ones we love.  We want more love in our lives?  Well, perhaps we need to look at the stories we have told.

0

Gratitude Day #6

I’m late. I’m late. For a very important date!  Well, not really. But I feel as if I shouldn’t have waited so long to post today.  I really meant to do this earlier. However, this California dreaming has got me in a different state of mind.  It’s been so nice to leave my cares behind–albeit temporarily.  So that’s yet another reason why I’m grateful today.  Interestingly enough, I’m no more thankful today because it’s Thanksgiving than I’ve been every day before.  I am just in a state of gratitude.  Life certainly hasn’t been a crystal stair (Oh Langston, you wordsmith you!), but it hasn’t been as bad as I’ve felt it’s been at some of my darkest moments. The great thing about it has been that when I’ve felt it wasn’t worth living, once I just kept living  (kind of like Dory told us to just keep swimming), the feeling passed and there was another feeling.  It’s made me understand that life isn’t about any one particular feeling, experience, or moment.  No!  It’s about the collective.  And just think, I’m not even done.  Yeah, as Tina Turner once sang, I think it’s gonna work out fine.  So here’s today’s gratitude.

Today’s gratitude is interesting for me because it is just so fitting.  I truly didn’t plan this–and yet isn’t that the beauty of life?  Since my dad has passed, the holidays don’t mean the same to me.  I don’t “celebrate” them as I once did.  I’m more about appreciating the moments which add to the collective experience of my life.  My dad was such a wonderful teacher, and the lessons haven’t stopped because of his passing.
On this day I am grateful for my dad. But today I want to say that I’m grateful for not just his life, but also his death. Of course I’m not happy that he’s no longer here. But after 5 years of mourning, I can see the beauty in the midst of the pain. It’s that beauty that I’m grateful for today. I’ve said before that my dad was my soul mate, and I really believe he was. I’m convinced we’ve shared many lifetimes together. I was and still am in awe of him. He was unlike any other person I have ever known–beside myself. When I look back now, it’s amazing to me how much we mirrored one another. From our sharp wit to our sensitivity (Yes believe it or not, The Mac Man was extremely sensitive), we were carbon copies. Now that I get that, I can totally understand why and how my father could work my last nerves better than anyone’s business. In his absence, that’s what I miss most. He was my button puncher, and I his. I’ll admit that I didn’t always understand him. He spoke in ways that seemed so far above my pay grade. He would speak in codes and riddles. He would tell me “You don’t understand what I’m saying to you right now, but one day you will.” I, being like any normal daughter, would mumble under my breath “No I won’t” and I truly thought that I meant it. But he, being the wise sage that he was, was absolutely correct. I didn’t understand much of what he said until he passed away. A veil of fear, uncertainty, and insecurity shrouded my vision of my life. It wasn’t until my dad passed that the veil began to lift. I can’t accurately describe it, but all of a sudden, I could see everything so clearly. And everything he’d ever talked about made sense or came to fruition.

When my dad was alive, I learned to play the supporting cast member. I stayed quietly (and happily) in the background. And I had no complaints. After all, he was the one who always wanted to be famous. It was just his personality. And as much as we were alike, I bought into the notion that we were different in that respect. I didn’t want fame. I didn’t want to be the center of attention. It’s amazing to me how unaware I was of my own self. After my dad’s death, I felt like I was catapulted into the spotlight. Suddenly there were cameras in my face. People were recognizing me. It was so uncomfortable and I resisted. In my resistance, I tried to make everything about him. I started working with his foundation, convinced that it was my duty because his legacy needed to continue and who else but his only child could take it on? What I didn’t realize is that was just my way of carrying out my same pattern of hiding. If I could make everything about my dad, I wouldn’t have to deal with myself. I would talk to my dad everyday. One day I was at home talking to him about how unhappy I was with the foundation. It just wasn’t what I wanted to do. I asked for his guidance. I pleaded for him to help me. That night he came to me in a dream. He told me how proud he was of me. He told me how much he loved me. And he told me that it was time for me to live for me. He said, “Boops, you’ve spent your whole life doing what you think everyone else wants you to do. Now it’s time for you to do what you want to do. This is your life. Don’t’ worry about me. I’m fine. I did what I needed to do. Now what did I tell you about letting folks steal your mojo? ” I realized then that my father’s legacy was/is in tact because of the work he did here on earth. His job is done. And above all else, his legacy will continue because of me. I am his legacy. Jasmine is his legacy. There’s nothing I need to do for him. I need to create my legacy. The next morning, I told my mother I was leaving the foundation. Once I did, doors started opening that I’d never expected. I received a call from some producers of a new TV show, which would be called Windy City Live. They asked me to audition, and I did. I was scared out of my mind, but I did it. After my audition, one of the producers pulled me aside and said, “You know, for someone without any experience, you’re a natural in front of the camera.” And while I didn’t get the job, they still continue to call me for appearances. More than that, they helped me to see how capable I am. A producer by the name of Robert Small wanted to do a documentary about my dad. While working on it, he called because he wanted me to conduct some of the interviews. And I did. While we were working together he told me “Je’Niece you are really talented. You have a real career in this industry if you want it.” I’ve traveled across the country speaking in front of audiences. I’ve been on radio. I started a blog. I’m not sure I would have been able to do any of this if my dad were still alive. It’s this very thing that I’m grateful for. As much as I miss my dad, I recognize that the transformation that I’ve undergone is a direct result of his passing. When my dad died, I was devastated. I felt like I lost so much. But now that I’m on this side of my grief, I can see the picture in a broader view. Sometimes things in our life are torn down in a most ugly and painful way in order to create anew something beautiful. That’s what happened to me when my dad died. Yes I did lose some things when he died, but now I know that I also found some things. I found my voice. I found my truth. I found myself. I’m not at all sure of what lies ahead of me, but I know that it is something(s) I would have never imagined possible. Beyond that, I’m no longer scared of the possibilities. Daddy, you know how much I love you. I am so thankful for the 30 years that we were able to spend together. You were the most amazing person I’ve ever known (besides Jasmine) and it was and still is an honor to say that I’m your daughter. I thank you for everything that you’ve given me–in life, and even in your death. I am because of you and that means more than I could ever say.

*Reading this today actually brought tears to my eyes.  Two years have passed since I wrote this and I must admit I’ve forgotten some of these things at times.  But I find my way back to the truth–or either my dad keeps bringing it my way. I wouldn’t be surprised at all if it’s the latter..*

0

Gratitude Day #5

Well it’s day 5 and today’s gratitude is a bit deep.  It has to do with a secret that I carried around for much of my life.  I actually never even told my father before he passed away.  Yet today, I don’t feel the heaviness of it as I did in years passed. In m opinion, humble as it may be, that is a true mark of my growth.  And yet another reason to be thankful.

On this day I am grateful for my unborn child. I’ve not shared this with many, but almost 20 years ago, when I was 16, I got pregnant. I felt ashamed, embarrassed, and disappointed. But most of all, I was just plain old scared. I was scared of what my father was going to do to me when he found out. He would have killed me—or come very close to it. And who could blame him? After all, I deserved to be punished. I was supposed to be a good girl and if I was pregnant, that meant I was having sex, and good girls simply did not do that. It also didn’t help that I’d begun having sex simply because my boyfriend wanted to. I wasn’t even remotely curious about sex. I just really wanted to be loved so when he showed me in a most non-discreet and obvious way where we were headed, I fell silent and complicit. I thought to myself, “Oh wow, I guess I’m going to have sex now.” And I did. I felt ashamed, but that was when and how he showed me attention and I desperately wanted his attention, so I continued to engage. I acted like I liked it. I acted as if I wanted it, but I didn’t and I died a little inside each time I succumbed to his will. I was in agony. Winding up a sobbing hot mess on the bathroom floor after reading the positive result on a pregnancy test only pushed me further into the abyss. I decided that I wouldn’t tell my parents. I’d get an abortion and never think about it again. But for the next 10 years, all I could think about was that baby and the horrible thing I’d done. The abortion only fueled the war I’d unconsciously waged against my already fragile self-esteem. I was in misery every single day.

A few days after the procedure, my mom found my medication. She’s a nurse so she knew exactly what the pills were. Too ashamed and afraid to tell her, I lied. I said they belonged to my best friend. She believed me—or at least she really wanted to. I felt so bad that I confessed to my friend. Being the wonderful friend she was/is, all she said was “Well, your parents already think I’m fast so a little less respect from them won’t hurt me.” Now it would seem that I’d been given a pass so that meant that I should’ve been ok from that point forward. But I wasn’t. I actually felt worse. In my mind, not only was I a fornicator and a murderer, but I was also a liar with no morals and a horrible friend. I deserved a fate worse than death. I deserved to be brutally punished over and over until I wished for death. And because I was so low, I didn’t even deserve to be relieved of my agony through death. For over a decade I rooted myself in this torment. I would be 27 years old, finding myself pregnant for the second time when I recognized that everything I was feeling was nothing but guilt and I had been wallowing in it. Before I gave birth to Jasmine, I thought about my unborn child every day. What would she/he look like? What would I have named him/her? What kind of mother would I have been? I didn’t believe I’d ever get the chance to become a mother. After all, I didn’t deserve it. When I found myself pregnant with Jasmine, I was happy but afraid. I was afraid every day of my pregnancy. I thought something would go wrong. I thought I deserved for something to go wrong. How dare I enjoy the beauty of motherhood after what I’d done to my first child? Once Jasmine was born, a peace wavered over me that said, “Enough. You must take care of this little girl who is here. It’s ok. You’ve punished yourself enough. Now stop this foolishness. It’s time to enjoy.”

I’ve heard it said that the soul of an unborn child simply waits until the next time to be born to their mother. So I don’t know if Jasmine was the soul waiting to be born through my unborn child at that time, or if my unborn child was another soul who has gone on to glory. But I do know, that I love that unborn child with all my might and I appreciate my unborn child. Through that brief encounter, that beautiful little soul has touched my life in a most amazing way. That soul taught me that guilt is a monster that serves no one. Guilt is a beast that robs of all joy. I wasn’t even able to get the lesson intended for me because I was stuck in my shame spiral. Through my unborn child I learned that guilt and sorrow are not the same. Sorrow says, “I messed up. I won’t do that again.” But guilt doesn’t. Guilt isn’t necessarily sorry for the act.  It simply feels bad about it because it knows the act goes against your moral compass.  Sorrow seeks to make amends.  Guilt just wants to feel better.  Guilt will continue to repeat the same thing and cry afterward having the nerve to say “Oh I feel so bad.” Yes I was sorry for my mis-steps, and I never did repeat the same mistake. However, the guilt is what allowed, even compelled me, to remain in the horrible cycle of punishing myself time and again. The guilt prohibited me from receiving and enjoying good. That unborn child also taught me compassion. Before I found myself pregnant, I judged young, unwed mothers. I looked down upon them. They were something to point at while I puffed up my chest and told myself how much better than they I was. The sweet irony of ending up just like them forced me to bake and eat my very own humble pie. While it wasn’t as sweet as I would have liked, it was very necessary and it was sustenance for my soul. I learned that we are all on our own journey and no one person is better than any other. We may cling to petty and superficial ties to make ourselves feel superior, but underneath all that bravado lays insecurity. But our insecurity is no excuse for having the audacity to think we can judge another. I’m still not convinced that I didn’t make the best decision for me at the time, but what I am convinced of is that it was all par for my course and I’m thankful for it. If my unborn child can hear me, I simply want to say that even though I didn’t birth you, I love you with all my heart and know that Mommy finally got the lesson. Thank you.

 

0

Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑