Its Ok to be not ok

Here’s how I see it. Finding someone to love is not going to save me. But to find someone to hold my hand while I try to save myself, in a world that’s not so great all the time and sometimes hard to bear. I think that’s all we’re really searching for. Someone to be by our side.  Someone who grounds us. Someone to hug us for 20 minutes straight while we try to figure it all out. I think that’s all anybody really needs. Someone to be there. Someone who gets us. Someone who will stay. Someone who will say it’s OK, to be not OK until it’s all OK. 

The Tribes

I’ve come to realize in my old age. The ripe ole age of 48, that my tribe is ever changing. Old friends, become new friends. New friends become old friends. There are a few constants. Some I’d be sad if I lost. Some I’d smile as they walked away. And God Forgive me, I wouldn’t shed a tear for a small few, if they fell off the face of the earth. There’s one I want to adventure with, take naps with, cook for, get to know more. There’s friends that I party with, drink with, dance with, sing with. There are friends that hold me up. There are friends that I lift. There is the tribe since childhood. There’s the tribe since Highschool and then there’s the tribe you NEVER EVER EVER saw coming. A bunch of misfits that fit together like a well thought out puzzle. I just love them all with all my might and need them to know that I think of and love each and every one of them every single day of their lives. 

Never Underestimate the power of a good morning text.

See the best in them, even when they don’t see it. 

Make sure they know that you care

Make sure they know they are loved

And Love me harder on the days they are feeling unlovable.

1/4/19 So I did it. I left my home I’ve been in since 2004, all because I couldn’t let go of an affair that happened six years ago. The love lost over these last six years, has been unbearable. I could no longer get passed the fact that I wasn’t the first choice. That my husband was with another woman on my birthday, on holidays, when he said he was working or with friends. I could no longer get passed the fact that I was second fiddle for a long time. And the lies and deceit were too much to bare anymore. I was not married to the man I married. I conhabitated with a stranger. I let my child see I settled. I settled for being second best. I let him see that I was ok with being lied to.  I let him hear me cry and didn’t tell him why. I let him see me be a door mat and it was ok. And he never questioned why. He never questioned why I walked on eggshells when dad slept. He never questioned why there was no laughter in our house. He never questioned why mom slept in another room. Now it’s every other weekend and once during the week time with his dad. But since he doesn’t know what happened, I’m the selfish one. I moved him out of the only home he’s ever known, Because I’m selfish. I only want myself to be happy. I don’t care about anyone else. That’s my cross to bare. In due time will he know I did it for him. I did it for us. It’s been two full months since I’ve physically walked away after mentally walking away in April of 2013. That was a long time to stay and hate yourself, hate your life, fake a smile, fake your life.