Caught Up

I’m laying in my bed. My right arm is neatly tucked under my pillow, outstretched and touching the cool white leather of my headboard. I’m laying on my right side with my soft, lumpy, and blue body pillow between my legs. And for once, I’m handling my emotions like an adult. 

I’m not ashamed to say that I’ve been disappointed in love more than a few times, but this time I find myself detached. Loving only as much as I should and only accepting the notion of today. 

There is no romance to sweep me off my feet nor any sweet nothings innocently scrawled on a kerchief and tucked into my pocket. There is only reality of the moment, nothing more nothing less. 

I have accepted that honoring my spirit means I must be the owner of the hand I hold through the darkest times. Forever. 

In accepting solitude and camaraderie with myself has freed all friends and lovers from taking part in my happiness. I need only be loved by myself to find the space where I was most happy and confident. 

Lesson learned. 

XO

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Naughty Nuptials

I’m addicted to the idea of capturing intimacy between myself and my beloved. A boudoir photoshoot for him as a gift and morning after photos for us. 

I think about the honeymoon and feel the fire flickering to life in the pit of my womb. I’ll want to be far away from my family, friends and strangers. In a cabin perhaps where we can relax and sex all day. I think it’d be beautiful to have a photographer tag along to capture our most intimate time together. 

Imagine me wearing the veil, his t-shirt, and nothing else as he lifts me onto the kitchen counter in his grey sweatpants. I wrap my legs around him. My arms rest on his chest as he kisses me deeply until my toes curl. Breakfast utensils are scattered around us. This scene captured in stunning black and white. 

Mm. Don’t get me started. 

Goddess, Z

Waiting Game

I find myself waiting for the moment of pure connection with the man I’m meant to marry. To look into his eyes and listen to his heartbeat. I’m waiting to see the gentle love and tender sincerity behind his “I love you.” 

I’m waiting to soften and show my heart. 

I’m waiting to love a poet.

Nothing really matters…

Nothing really matters without the choice to give power to whatever it is. 

Let’s take for example, work. If you spend all your time stressing about work and how terrible it is, you give it enormous power to control how you feel. One bad day at the office and you’re bent outta shape yelling at people who had nothing to do with the situation or passive aggressively carrying that weight with you. 

Neither are healthy by the way, but regardless the power has been given away to a situation. 

How do you overcome this power exchange?

You stop fueling the situation with reactionary emotions and start taking ownership of your life and feelings. Yes, it is challenging but it’s not impossible. 

Reaction puts the blame on outside sources. “You did this, so I’m doing this.”

Reaction seeks validation for our own behaviors. “It’s okay for me to act this way because of your behavior. Right?” (Ever had the friend that always wants you to validate their anger? Yes, I’m this type of reactor too.)

Ownership understands that allowing feelings to linger more than necessary is a choice. “I know I shouldn’t take my anger out on my dog. I’m was upset at my boss today and brought it home.”

Ownership takes the responsibility for our role in emotions. “I can’t control how someone else behaves. I could’ve controlled my emotions better.”

Consider the aforementioned situation, something happens at work and you find yourself harboring anger days or weeks later. Start asking yourself questions:

Why is this upsetting to me?

Does my anger really have anything to do with this new situation?

Am I carrying emotions from earlier?

When did I lose my calm space?

These types of questions help identify if you are reacting or if you are owning your life and emotions. 

Remember nothing really matters unless you give it the power to matter. You are the owner of 1 earth life (currently). Act like it. 

Signed,

Goddess Z

Bed Time Blues

Bed time confessions: Although it seems cliche and cheesy, I’ve never had anyone offer anything more than a small portion of this world. I look to myself for the abundance which is cool, don’t get me wrong, but I often question myself because it seems as though my personality makes it hard for people to get to know the real, genuine me. The me that is soft and hell bent on making the most peaceful place on earth my home. The me that likes to bake and lights up when people like the food I make. The me that sometimes sings old blues while folding laundry… <Iiiii waaaant a … Sunday… Kind of love>
No one gets to see that me. And that’s me, but sometimes I wish someone had the balls to try. Just once to put in effort to see me genuinely without judgement. Like, to really SEE me and maybe not even try to understand but to love me for all my flaws and all my bullshit because I’m more than willing to return the favor. I’d like for once not to be used for my kindness. I’d like to be offered everything. And I wouldn’t accept it unless I brought heaven to match his fly but it’s like… How can you really look into a man’s eyes and see his intentions? Men be good liars… 
Maybe not all men but the ones I’ve come across are just excellent liars. It’s almost impressive. But I digress. I want the feeling of magic between souls with trust. I’d like to not be used more than anything. I know I offer a lot to the world and to men. I know. And it’s trash trying to decipher through what’s real and what’s not. But… I’m worth it. I’m so worth it!

I’m worth putting forth the effort. I’m worth sharing your secrets. I’m worth being my friend and my lover. I’m worth committing to. I’m worth loving unconditionally. I’m worth a text or call for consideration. I’m worth getting to know. I’m worth…everything in this world. 

I’m worth more than gold. I’m worth more than a diamond. I’m worth love

I’m worthy of being loved by a conscious black man who will not use me for his own ego. 

I deserve it. After all that I’ve been through I deserve just once, for a man to love me and bring something to the table besides half-assed efforts and broken promises. If only you <my dear reader> could feel my heart aching for something honest and just for me… You would understand the tears behind these words. 

It’s painful you see to know you deserve to be loved and yet none around you see the same. My optimism is high although realistic. 

In reality, I doubt the capability of a man to love beyond his ego. Maybe that’s why I’ve given up on love and settled with the notion of artificial insemination whenever I’m ready to have children. It’s not like anyone would want that lifetime with me by choice anyway… 

Sigh. Bedtime blues. Goodnight. 

Goddess Z

To Whom It May Concern

To whom it may concern,

My heart is longing for you. Everyday I’m learning more about the woman who stares at me in the mirror. I’ve learned so much in the past few months and cannot wait to see what else I uncover. 

My dearest true love, I’m working on me right now. I’m building myself higher than I’ve ever gone before, and as terrifying as that is I’m willing to do that if it means reaching self-mastery. 

I don’t know where you are, or who you may be, but I’m not exactly waiting for you. I’m living my life in full abundance and love without you here. I never want to feel as though my happiness is on hold waiting for your love and I hope you’d feel the same. 

I hope wherever you are that you are enjoying your life and working within yourself. I pray that you are safe and secure in that knowledge that I do exist, and I am moving closer to you everyday. 

My heart, I’m living for me now. I hope you find that beautiful. When our souls collide and we match each other in intensity and commitment, I promise you I will do everything I can to remember taking care of myself. 

For our future children, my heart swells with pride. I know your spirits are with me and will manifest in the physical realm at the exact right time. I love you with my full heart of hearts. I will protect you and nurture you and aid in your development to serve your purpose on this earth. 

To my love, my sweet I feel as though I owe you so much gratitude for patiently waiting for me to be ready for you. You know my heart, I have to go through the trials in order to get to you. That is how my life has always unfolded this lifetime. I thank you for honoring the space of not yet. 

As much as I crave your presence, I am reminded that there is much work to be done. Remember my dear, we are never separate in spirit. For my true love I will always be with you. I love you. 
Goddess Z

A Letter of Forgiveness

Dear… Old Flame,

I want to lay my soul bare in front of you. I feel ignited in the most humiliating way possible. I think of you every single day as though you never left and even as new people attempt to enter my life I can’t help pushing them away because of the pain. 

You see, I loved you like I’ve never loved anyone else before. I loved you like my soul was defrosted for the first time in life. I was seeing things clearly, living passionately and fulfilled. With you it was everything. That month of darkness taught me a valuable lesson in communication, and I thank you for it because it was necessary. 

Meeting with you, was overwhelming. You, your daughter, your mother, your step-dad all in the matter of an hour. I wish we would’ve had more time to be still together. You know, to enjoy each other’s presence. But I understood that you had responsibilities that couldn’t wait just because I manifested in your life. 

You were very much necessary. Now though, now I feel the totality of this failed attempt at lasting love. It’s the strangest feeling of duality in my heart because on one end I hate you. I loathe you for opening me to this brutal pain and undoing. Yet, I love you infinitely because this is making me a stronger goddess. 

I look at your picture sometimes to determine how my feelings towards you have changed and every time, I cry. Because I know this isn’t right. 

Back to the original point of this letter, forgiveness. 

I forgive myself for believing you were the perfect man for me. 

I forgive myself for becoming attached to the illusion of you. 

I forgive myself for loving you as hard as I could. 

I forgive myself for being vulnerable. 

I forgive myself for being emotional through this separation. 

I forgive you for not loving me. 

I don’t know if you ever did, but truthfully it doesn’t matter. You were willing to fight for everything in life except me, and that is your choice. 

You always have that choice to either accept or decline everything in your life. You choose where to place your efforts. 

You choose to accept that you must have things one way in order to be happy. I choose to honor myself with solitude in the face of your decision. 

You’ll never love me the way I love you with that expressed limited mentality. My love is actually unconditional. Hasn’t waivered although again it’s the push/pull of love/hate. No matter who I go on to date, I’ll have a love for you. Call it a fondness for pain. 

This is my letter of forgiveness to myself and my false twin flame. 

Peace,

Goddess Z

A Sometimes Letter

Hey,

I’ve written this letter a hundred times before in my mind and in the notes on my phone but we both know I don’t want to burden you with my emotional heaviness. 

I carry weight that I’m slowly learning to let go of and I don’t understand your fixation with being here while I figure things out. Then when you oblige and go away I sit in silence contemplating for hours and hours why I would behave the way I do which makes you leave me. 

I cried in the heat of frivolous self pleasure at the thought of asking you to stay in my life. It was an innocent and raw request from the depths of my soul. I mean, we both know that you can’t stay right now and neither can I. 

It’s been half a year.

That’s all it took for me to shift into myself and uncover all the deepest crevaces of my being. You sparked that. 

I’m grateful for that experience with you. My thought is now that maybe twinflames aren’t meant to be lovers. Perhaps the dynamic is better suited for best friends. 

I may say that simply because the constant silence and purging is beyond painful. It’s empty. It feels as thought there’s not a reward for this except more and more purging. 

I’m not right yet. I don’t know that I ever will be. When I try to imagine the perfect woman for you… I imagine someone more. You know? Someone more than what I can be for you. Someone patient and outrageous and extroverted.

More.

Closer to you, better at sex, more vicious, more everything. 

Because I am, just me… I’m carrying all these weights and trying to get ahold of my damn self. Trying to deal with being emotionally detached and accepting at the same time. I’m trying to be open and closed at the same time. That’s how that feels. 

I wish you’d take the lead and tell me what you want and tell me where you want to go with this. Then act like that’s the truth rather than going back to your old life. 

Maybe you’re not my twinflame at all. Maybe you’re a catalyst. They keep saying have patience, have patience! But how am I supposed to be patient when I need to grow?

Sigh.

Isn’t that the point though?

And I’m sitting here writing this to myself because I don’t have anyone to talk to and you’d rather push me away than talk with me. 

So I’m alone. 

Isn’t that grand?

Alone with the energy of numbness and inevitable suffering. That’s such a bad place to be. 

Heh.

No one… No one gives a damn anyway. 

Signed,

My ego

A Thank You Letter

In my past, I had a pretty fucked up idea of what it meant for a man to be a man. I saw a lot and heard a lot. From what I know my biological father was abusive to my mother emotionally and physically. He was a liar and a cheater. He neglected all of his children even as they grew into adults. When my mom left him she immediately met my step dad and he wasn’t much better. He was strict and stringent.

As a child I remember fearing him. I remember not wanting to touch anything that was his, especially not his person. I didn’t trust him. He was also abusive but his abuse reached my brother and me. 

The first time I attempted suicide was because he broke my stereo. I was an angry, depressed, anxious recluse before it happened. I stayed locked in my bedroom self-harming, listening to music on that black stereo. Deborah Cox, Michael Jackson, Ashanti, India Arie, Erykah Badu all serenaded me and kept me sane. Then he took that away from me. One day he just came in and clipped the wiring so it never played again. 

In my mind, men were takers of joy and peace and givers of abuse and misfortune. Fathers were meant to be critical dictators, and their counterpart mothers were meant to be passive observers to all of it. 

And that subconscious feeling played out in my dating escapades. Year after year I would find myself with these men who were takers. I suffered through emotional, pyschological, and physical abuse. I would realize that the relationship drained me of all of my joy, leave, find my happiness alone, find a boy, and be drained all over again. 

Until I simply stopped. I began to look at myself and what I was attracting and I came face to face with the past I tried so desperately to pretend didn’t exist. 
When I began healing, I would tell myself over and over that it’s possible for men to bring peace. It’s possible for men to be tender. It’s possible for men to be gentle. It’s possible for a father to be caring to his daughter, but I never had anyone prove that. I saw glimpses of it every now and again but nothing solid; nothing all inclusive. 

I was 22 years old, deeply concentrating on healing my image of men and relationships. I was celibate. I was back to being a recluse, but, no longer depressed, I was taking ownership of my life and emotions. 

I was in a space of healing and I was crying out to experience the love which evaded me. I was writing letters of forgiveness to my parents, exes, and myself.
When I began to see the light, I wrote letters to an imaginary man who was supposed to come to me and prove to me that what I experienced isn’t all there is to love. I healed and wrote, day after day…

Then I met you. 

A single father of a spectacular little princess. 

I see how you are with her. How you tickle her and teach her. How you kiss her gently, hug her and hold her. How you encourage her, read to her, color with her and challenge her to be better. How you aren’t afraid to play with her. 

I see how you are with me. How you touch me softly and kiss me whenever you have the chance. How you hold me and tell me how beautiful you think I am. How you love me and encourage me. How you tell me that I’m appreciated and that you’re proud of me. And you recognize my heart, my mind, my spirit, and my body. 

Before me you stand a glorious image of what a man should be. I look at you with wonder and I think to myself, “I knew it was possible.” You are a miracle in my life. In you, I have found peace and understanding. I have found so much love, respect, and wisdom in you. 

So this is my thank you letter to a man who has opened my heart to receiving abundant love. 

To the one I love eternally, 

Thank you for being the man that you are. So beautifully powerful, magnificently tender, and a giver of wisdom, guidance, love, and appreciation. You are my partner, my matching light, and most importantly my king. I love you and I cherish you more deeply than I can ever express. 

Forever yours,

Your Queen

Baby steps.