The Worst Block Spin Ever

One of my good girlfriends from high school casually told me during our last conversation that she is currently seeing her old boyfriend from back in the day, when things were NOT cool. He used to hit her, and I was beyond joyous when she finally dropped him. To hear that, after over 20 years, they are dating again made me so sick that I literally almost threw up. I thought that this guy was effectively exercised from her life years ago, only to find out that they have always kind of kept in touch. Now, he has somehow slithered his way back into the picture, and I am not excited about it at. all. I don't like him. 

"You don't know him," she said when I told her as much.  "You only know the him that I told you about. We were kids, and I did a lot of bad stuff too."

She then began to discuss his journey to healing and manhood and how he is so cool, calm, and collected now. He was abusive because that is what he saw growing up. After years of therapy, he now knows how to communicate. They have even already had their first argument, and no one got slapped. He is not the same guy that he was when he was a "kid". 

It was hard for me to not scream! Part of the reason why this whole thing sounds outrageous to me is because I guess I don't believe that people can fully change. The base of who you are is what it is going to be as soon as you get here. All other changes are surface-level, according to me. So when she tells me that this guy has changed, I not only can't believe it, I don't believe that it is legitimately possible, but she does. Also, I know that they say that by middle age, you have probably dated or met your forever person already. And that's fine if that's true, but could the universe make sure that the block spin doesn't stop at the doorstep of someone who caused you dramatic trauma and pain? I'm also annoyed with myself because I am supposed to believe that all change is possible through Christ Jesus. Watch me give myself the side eye 😒 Years of watching Lifetime movies has shown me otherwise. 

We pretty much agreed to disagree on whether or not this is a good idea, and I let her know as calmly and diplomatically as possible that I am not here for this but I am here for her. Men are in the news straight up unaliving their partners.  This is serious! Serious and unreal. 

Do Better Holly

One of my friends recently had a come-to-Jesus talk with me about how she feels that I am not there for her in the way that she is there for me. She feels that I am not present. Things have been so hectic lately that I forgot to wish my other friend a happy birthday. I can be so high and mighty about how my friends show up for me, yet lately, I have been the one clearly dropping the ball, big time. 

"Do better, Holly," my friend Cali said to me as I complained about this; a simple, obvious solution for a huge problem. She is right. I do need to do better. But how do you do better when you hardly have the energy to do anything? I am so exhausted that you'd think that I wake up every morning at the crack of dawn and sprint around my neighborhood. To be clear, I do not. I just lounge around like an obese house cat, groaning at the thought of all the work that I have to do to improve my life. When I was a kid, I used to fantasize about what it would be like to open my door and receive a huge million-dollar check from Ed McMahon. Although Ed went on to glory in 2009, it would be great if he could come back to life and to my door to bring me an energy drink and supplements. Maybe he could bring me a really strong coffee with two shots of confidence and a dollop of drive. 

Today, I have so much to do that I have nothing to do. But one thing I must do, other than get my life together, is check in on the people who care about me. No matter how broke, sad, depressed, alone, tired, aggravated, irritated, sleepy, and overwhelmed I am, I can not screw up my remaining friendships. I refuse to become the friend that I often complain about, and I am committed to being better...after I wake up from a nap. 

Cost Calculating

It's funny how your opinions change as you get older. 

One of the reasons I loved college is because it felt like being immersed in an oasis of thoughts and opinions. The world was new to me and everyone around me, and it was awesome to express how I was feeling while hearing how everyone else felt. It was a beautiful time. I was young and open to changing and sharpening what I felt were my beliefs. I recall being in the cafeteria one day and sitting at a table with all girls, and one of the girls said that she would never leave her husband simply because he cheated on her. I know that is a heavy remark to make at 18 or 19 years old, but the mere statement enraged me! How could a girl that young already be okay with taking on that amount of disrespect?

Just the other night, I had a conversation with Coffee, and he expressed something similar but from a male perspective. He said that a woman who leaves a man because he stepped out of the marriage for sex is only doing so because of her ego, especially if she has kids. He said that women need to stop thinking of cheating as some big deal because it is not, especially if the man does not want to abandon his family. He said that women who get divorced after cheating usually demote themselves to a lesser quality of life, having to leave their previous lifestyles, catapulting their children into poverty. How selfish. 

Hearing this, I was as irritated as I was over 20 years ago with that girl in the cafeteria. However, as someone who is far from rich, I had to really think through the situation. If I had a good life, how upset would I have to be to leave it? What is the real cost of walking away with your dignity, and is it worth it if this dignity is now accompanied by struggle and strife? If I were coupled now, and my man slept with someone else, I would be devastated. DEVASTATED! But would I be devastated enough to forego my nice home and access to money? I guess the question is, how much is your comfort, dignity, and quality of life really worth? What woman wants to get out and hustle in middle age?

"Tell Coffee he can shut the f*^k up!" Lisha exclaimed when I posed this question to her. I explained to her how Coffee expressed that, ideally, a woman in this situation should kick a man out of the house until he is ready to come home and take their life seriously. "A woman doing that doesn't mean he is going to continue covering the expenses of a house he is not living in, kids or no kids."

It is easy to have an opinion on a situation that has never happened to you. I have a lot of thoughts on marriage, but I am not married and never have been. I am a woman, though, an emotional woman at that, so I can only imagine how hard infidelity must be. I guess the difference between me now and teen me in college is that I better understand how 3-dimensional life can be. Everything isn't black or white or even gray. Somethings are purple, and require you to really, really ponder on them before making a decision. I'm glad I have never been in this position and hope that I never am. I have never been good at calculating costs. 

Family No Fair

Today, I got into a huge argument with my brother. We are six years apart. At what age is this nonsense supposed to end? And to think, I was super excited when he was born. Now, all he does is yell, complain, mope, and bark. I guess this argument was all my fault for not allowing him to strong-arm and overrun a conversation he was not even a part of. I will not be bullied by my kid brother. My bad. 

Family, am I right? When I used to get into tween spats with my mom, my grandma would say, "Well, you don't get to choose your family." I'm not so sure. I have heard that there are cultures that believe that the spirits of babies choose their parents or that the family you are born into is all a part of some type of divine plan. This evening, I wanted to dropkick my brother. How's that for divinity?

My mom had four siblings, and now three of them are gone, including her. I know the importance of valuing your brothers and sisters better than the average Joe. I know a lot of people who are only children, so I also know how lucky I am to have brothers and sisters. I love and appreciate them. That doesn't mean that I don't often fantasize about stomping on my brother's foot. He thinks I don't hear him, and I know he doesn't hear me. At times, he can be truly unbearable. I didn't choose him, so I guess I should just love him, even though that is easier said than done, and I would much rather love to elbow him in the ear. Little brothers, am I right?

41 going on 14

Earlier today, I had to talk a friend down from the ledge. She was crying and very emotional over a man that she met online that was no longer talking to her. Tiesh has been ghosted by her friend group because she fell out with Wadley. I am looking for a job with the same gusto I had that summer when I got my work permit. I can't help but feel like I have been here before. What is it about middle age that has me feeling like I am reliving life as a tween? Breakups. Petty friendship disputes. Being broke. I am half expecting a friend to call me tomorrow and tell me her signed Immature poster has come in the mail and, if she keeps her room clean, her mom has promised to get her Aaliyah tickets. 

I have concluded that either life happens to you in a series of loops that feel familiar as time goes on, or me and the people I know have experienced no growth and still have the horrible communication skills of children. Neither idea is comforting. I didn't want to be a child when I was a child, but the way that I have been feeling of late and the situations that I have been witnessing my friends fall into has me looking into my purse to make sure that I have my Lip Smacker and my Lisa Frank notebook. With all that has been going on, I half wonder if you can be an adult and a kid at the same time. 

I have long said that I feel that you are who you are by the time you hit a certain age in elementary school. Everything you pick up along the way either adds to or takes away from your personality. With that being said, perhaps me and my girls aren't experiencing the same situation over and over again, but rather we are essentially the same people we were at 14, so we are handling all situations, no matter how serious or grown up, the same way we would have in the 99s and 2000s. Again, not a great conclusion. 

In my friends' defense, there is no great way to handle breakups or friend loss at any age. Having to deal with them leaves you feeling just as dumb and vulnerable as that kid on the couch, waiting for "All That" to come on while waiting for life to happen. How many ways can life happen the same way? Am I going to be 80 upset because a friend did not return my text? Who knows. All I can do is try to be there for my friends. They all need support. 41 can be a very hormonal, difficult age. 

The Prom Post

 

If your social media timeline is anything like mine, you have been flooded with pics of family members and the children of friends going to the prom. These pics have made me nostalgic and a little sad, as everything does these days. I tell you, I think I have cried more this month than I have my whole life. I'm either in perimenopause or depressed, a conversation for another time. 

Anyway, my senior prom was shrouded in drama. My friends didn't want to go so I had to go with some other classmates, my date pulled out of the deal, my dress had to be tailored, I had drama with Lisha (which would later kickstart our friendship), and my big grown up night out ended in me and my friends falling asleep before midnight in a fancy hotel. What a night! 

I hated high school. I didn't have a lot of friends. However, for some reason, I was super stoked to go to my prom. I think I really wanted to get in a limo and wear a cute dress. But when I got to the prom at the Fox Theater, I just kind of swayed awkwardly and talked to folks. I was too shy to dance. 

Of late, I have thought a lot about what a me today would tell a younger me. Old Me would show up to my prom in the ratty old summer dress I am wearing as a night gown and scream at Young Me to dance. I'd tell her in a little over ten years our mom and grandma would be dead. DANCE! College would leave us in boatloads of debt. DANCE! Depression, loss, anxiety. DANCE! Knowing Young Me, I would have still wallflowered it, but Old Me would take the opportunity to shine. I see myself breakdancing, back flipping, and moonwalking while Young Me sulks in the corner. I always ease out of this fantasy with a smile on my face. It feels good to dance again. 

Show Improve

The other night, I mentioned to Coffee that I don't know how to walk in heels. He told me that when he was hiring an etiquette coach for his daughter, the first thing she asked was if his daughter could walk in heels. He suggested I consider hiring a woman like that to teach me to walk in heels and help me with any other things I may want to improve. 

This may sound a little negative, but I don't often think of improvement probably because I am not really sure anything changes. I have always felt kind of doomed and stuck where I am. Early on, once I realized that I'd never be small or anything resembling petite, I just figured there was no point. I'd never be cute. I'd never like my body and neither would anyone else. I'd never be ladylike. I would always be a bull in a China shop, and that was just the long and short of it. As weird as it may sound, I never took the idea seriously that I could actually improve myself, even on little things, to get as close as possible to the me I told myself I'd never be. It was all or nothing, and since I was never going to be all, I'd have to settle for nothing. This attitude has spilled over to most aspects of my life, and if you are thinking that this can't be a productive way to live, you are thinking right. 

If I'm being honest, general low self-esteem, energy, and motivation have also played a part in my stagnancy. I went to college with this AKA that really had it together. I mean, she always looked so polished and feminine and professional, even in jeans and a t-shirt. I secretly idolized this girl, and she was a vivid example of what my grandma was talking about when she would preach to me about being presentable. I mean, she was elegant, even at 19! So, in an attempt to improve myself, I revaluated everything; hair, hygiene, makeup, my walk. All of it. And I came up with an honest and ambitious plan to make some changes. However, when it was time to execute this plan, I lost the teaspoon of juice in my battery. What was the point? I'd just be a lipstick wearing version of the mess I already was and everyone would see through my attempt at self improvement. I canceled my new me plans and sank comfortably into my old me, cuddled in sadness, disappointment, and functional depression. 

Now, I'm middle-aged and still daydreaming of a better version of me because it feels so far away. Where would I even start now? Why would I even start now? Maybe to enjoy a brighter type of me before I die and clock out for good. I guess I'd have to muster up the gusto to get my one pair of heels out the back of the closet. Does anyone know where you can get cheap gusto? I'm on a budget.