Saturday, July 26, 2014

What is growth?

As my birthday week passes on and I have gained another year in my badge of life, there are still parts of me that are waiting for that 'growth'. I'm not sure if I am just a young spirit that we always remain that way or is it my innate incapacity to allow growth that has left me in this position.

 I wonder if women who are over 32 actually feel grown and maybe it explains why a majority of my friends are a lot younger than I am. Funny enough it is only when I experience what they go through that's realise that growth might not be the number of years in existence on earth in as much as it's about physical experiences of life. I felt more growth in the past 2 years than any other time in my life, the experiences that sometimes made me angry and left me feeling like a little girl have actually grounded me into a certain woman....

In the ways that my heart is young and optimistic, accessible and open it has, as a Woman's does, acquired the necessary walls and carefully maintains the ones worth keeping. But in those walls, only a woman knows where the doors are and who is worth letting through. My gut, my instinct alerts like a woman.... it knows the difference between “right,” and “not right for me.” My heart, is no longer an empty room, with a "come one, come all" sign,  waiting to be filled with someone else’s stories, likes and dislikes that I'd hastily claim as my own in an attempt to keep them.

That heart vessel doesn't say "Unoccupied," waiting to be invaded like it had been before... It stays FULL and entertained while deliberately awaiting the arrival of one worth re-arranging "the things" for. As a result I am no longer as good in giving advise as I was before because keeping my thoughts into anyone's stories longer than my own has  been prohibited.

Unlike a Girl, I know that things take time. That nothing comes to full bloom in a day. I’ve relinquished the need to have all the answers, or to make you see things my way.  Unlike a Girl, I know what it feels like to try and fit a square peg into a round hole, but now, rather than attempting it, I see the pieces for what they are and let them be...

Unlike a Girl, I don’t wish to be lighter skinned, or taller. I don’t wish for my hair to be the way that hers are.  I don't even compare relationships.... I know that no one has it “better,” we each just have it “differently.” Unlike a Girl, I’m comfortable with transparency, even if you aren’t. That my words are only of value if they are genuine and without pretense.... that the interaction, relationships, contracts that say, or feel otherwise aren’t “mine....” and that’s okay.

Unlike a Girl, as a Woman I don’t look to be anyone else.... and the “exemplary examples” that I hold ideal, as Mentors I humbly acknowledge will and have made their own mistakes. That the only true guide you have is YOU. As a Woman, I find that power terrifyingly exhilarating....unlike a Girl, I’m prepared to harness, feed, listen to my own True North.

I’ve learned to identify closed ears and closed hearts. I've learned when to slow down, speed up, or just stop completely. As a Woman I’ve learned the power of graceful restraint, coming to know when what you ache to say is already spelled out, a woman learns to trust subtle knowingness. She learns that words are the smallest part of the whole, as fun as they are to play with.... play can be spared.

A Woman knows that despite everything, she will be alright. She knows the well of resilience and strength that resonates through her whole being, even when she can’t bear it...she can do anything.

As a woman I trust my ability to love selflessly and selfishly in equal measure, inward and outward.

While having grown as I say I have...I still need my Dad. I still want my Mom to like my outfits, guys to like how I look and hubby to think I'm hot. The parts about being a Girl worth keeping are there....they’re playful and raw, completely, softly discernable....

While ALL the years, the lessons, the introspection of a Woman exist, freely and proudly, I embody that which I've wanted to become..... and embrace that it's all still a process....

Wednesday, July 16, 2014

You are damaged goods

I just watched people walk out of the gym. They're walking exhaustion and they are every shape, size and color you'd find in a bag of halloween candy (okay, there are not any purple people yet).

Some are obviously strangers chatting, some are  with friends and loved ones. Some are alone. All of them are damaged, all of them a mixed bag of frustration, happiness, battle scars and optimism. I'd venture to guess each has seen their heart's hope challenged in numerous ways.

I'd venture to guess some are walking towards their next emotional boxing match.

Thing is, no one isn't damaged. Flat out, we're each struggling to find our place if we succeed at 'that' it simply means we've learned to except that the human condition is one of perpetual imperfection. We fear our own emotions, and we most certainly fear the vulnerability that each new person in our life represents. Sharing our lives with someone is our most courageous endeavor; never meant to be easy and never meant to anything more concrete than a commitment to the process. 

Everyone wants someone who's damaged. It's the ones who think they aren't you've got to look out for. Damaged, crazy, quirky, weird, unique; we're all just looking for the damage that shines in the light we see the world through.

What I'm saying might sound like a cliche,'s the imperfections that make a person interesting, loveable, and human. When you live hard, when you love, laugh, work, play, all so very, very hard, you're bound to bust a few bones, break a heart or two, and bear bruises, sometimes for much longer than we'd like.

But, that's LIFE. I, for one, wouldn't want it any other way. Especially because that healing process can be oh so sweet.

 I haven't been consistent in writing because I've been damaged, in so many different ways at many different levels. Each day I get better and though I thought this year was hard and harsh, things seem to be moving in a better direction.

Me? I helped fix me. Obviously the me that was broken and battered didn't have the capacity to do the mending. But the person I became, going through the fog and drudging through it at times became someone that showed the old (broken and battered) me that no, I can't be broken and no I will not allow someone outside of myself to have so much control. They don't deserve it. 

Daily questions and daily non-acceptance of my current state in the muck absolutely would have continued if I didn't have people. People that allowed me to just mope when I needed to (compassion) and brought me dancing anyways (distraction). Danced to the point that I felt free again. But only I could remove the shackles.

Yes we are damaged goods... And I bet we wouldn't have it any other way ��

Tuesday, October 25, 2011


From this....

To this

l might not have ARRIVED where I wanna be, BUT I damn sure LEFT where I used to be...

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Sunday, October 23, 2011

I take my phone with me to the bathroom. Do you or anyone you know do that? Is it just me? Am I the only one who's self obsessive enough to think that the world will explode if they cannot get hold of me even if it is only a mere minute or half that I’m going to the bathroom? I honestly don’t know why I think I’m that important, but I know I am judging by the way my friend Thembi gets all wrapped up in a tangle when I miss her calls which I admit I never return promptly, then proceed later to call her hubby whom I have a lot of business chats with. Now I do return her call, just not promptly but by that time she's called me all sorts of nasty names which even a free for all blog like mine cannot admit to.
What I'm saying I've grown to create this brand in me that people simply cannot wait to chat.

Now today as I took the iPhone to the bathroom it plummeted down the loo hole and I actually saw it sliding off my thighs but I guess there were just not enough time to save it.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone