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FOLLOW ME
Showing posts with label journaling. Show all posts
Showing posts with label journaling. Show all posts
Best Christmas Ever
It was Christmas 1995 or maybe 1996. It was 1996. Definitely.
I married my first husband January 4th, 1997. For Pacific Island girls in my era, marriage was the only way out of the house. So I was excited to make my way in the world with my first love. A month before the wedding, with the excitement of becoming a new bride and all the butterflies I felt surrounding the love adventure I was about to embark on, I was feeling the Christmas spirit.
My little sisters down the road came over and we started talking about "Ding Dong Ditch," although I think we called it something else. We would make all sorts of homemade baked goods and give it to families in the neighborhood that had large families to feed. We would place the goodies on their porch, knock on the door or ring their bell, then run. We were very much feeling the spirit of giving, the spirit of Christmas. We made our list of the baked goods we would make and decided on homemade cookies, rice crispie treats, and cupcakes. We sourced our ingredients and started baking.
The TV was playing a Christmas special with beautiful music and we were having a good time. Laughing. Baking. Eating. Singing. The lights from our Christmas tree cast a soft glow in the living room and the lights that my father hung on the eaves of the house streamed into the living room and kitchen. There was a slight frost in the air with the temperatures dipping into the upper 60's, which is cold for Hawai'i. While the goodies cooled off, we made homemade gift tags. I'm artsy fartsy like that and my little sisters from down the road are always DOWN for whatever. In the midst of our laughing and singing along to the Christmas special, we hear a knock at the door.
Nobody we know would knock on the door. Most people we know will walk right into the house, not needing or waiting for an invitation. So it was odd that there was someone knocking at our door. Because of the cold temperatures, we had the heavy door closed when normally the screen door would suffice. When I opened the door, there was a Caucasian gentleman standing there. Dark hair. Round glasses. Red Santa hat on. Cardigan and khakis. I had never seen this man before in my life. He smiled really big when I opened the door.
He asked me, "Is this the home of ((insert my moms name))?"
I replied, "Yes. Do you need something?"
He handed an envelope to me and asked me to give it to her.
I said, "Okay," and took the envelope.
"Hold on," I told him, as I ran to get a box of macadamia nut chocolates under the tree that my mom had wrapped for occasions like this.
He took the box and walked down the driveway. I closed the door and took the envelope to my mother, who was sitting with my father in their bedroom.
I went back to preparing the gift packages for the families we selected. The laughing, the singing, the preparing continued. My mother came out of the room with a stern look on her face.
"Where did this envelope come from?" my mother asked.
I explained what happened and described the guy. She walked to the door and looked up and down the street. I was worried. Why was she so concerned?
"Is something wrong, mom?" Mom had tears in her eyes.
"There is $250 cash in this envelope."
All of us started tearing up as she explained how she had to choose between paying the electric or buying groceries for Christmas and New Years. I had been so caught up with thinking all about me in the preceding months with my wedding and the fairytale I thought I was going to live out. It never even crossed my mind about the struggles of my parents, who both lost their jobs within months of each other. My tears were about feeling regret and shame for having only thought about me all these months. I hadn't contributed to my wedding or anything and I just thought how selfish I had been. With one act, a gift from a stranger, I was brought to my knees and reminded to think outside of myself. I was glad that we were baking and preparing small, little gifts for other people in the area. In some way, I was just like the santa-guy that had delivered that envelope.
That was the best Christmas ever. Since then, Christmas is about everyone else especially the children. It is a time to remind them of the abundance of God's universe. It's a time to foster imagination and the magic of believing. The only thing that brings me joy at Christmas is the ability I have to give whatever I can. I still love cards especially when they are handwritten but other than that, Christmas is a time to create memories. I love the lights, the sounds, the music, the feeling in the air, the decorations. But this season is about love. Merry Christmas!
Journal Writing Fanatic - 3 TIPS
What I enjoy the most about Journal Writing is going back to read what was going on in my life years ago. I cringe at some of the stuff I wrote. Perhaps it's the subjects I opt to write about or it's the conversational, informal language that I use that makes me cringe. Either way, it's fun to go back and read and compare how I wrote in the past to how I write in the here and now. Maybe when I'm 60 looking back at the stuff I'm writing in my 40's I will cringe about it too. My life is in the pages of all of my journals. As I age, I get more real and honest. I am firmly coming in to being my most authentic. I want to be remembered as this woman I am today because I can feel my wings stretching from the cocoon that I was ensnared in and all I want to do is fly.
Real words on real pages that are not stuck in some electronic cloud is what will last through the ages. Wouldn't it be a wonderful gift for your posterity. The idea of being forever remembered in the pages that I write makes me immortal and I love that idea. I want that for everyone that reads this.
Here are three tips to get started on your journaling.
START SOMEWHERE
Many people attempt writing in a journal. You have probably wrote one or two entries and then gave up and that journal is left sitting, untouched. So if you still have that journal or that notebook or composition book, pull it out and let's start again. You have to start somewhere! So even if the last entry was made 5 years ago, start again.
USE PROMPTS
Remember in grade school and maybe even high school, the "slam" book or "slang" book? In the book, each page had a question. Each line on each page was reserved for the same person. For instance, page one would be, What is your full name? If you used line 12 to answer, you were line 12 on every page. Think of those questions and use it as the catalyst for your journaling. You can also google "writing prompts." There are tons of questions you can find on the internet to help move this journaling thing along.
START SIMPLE
The best tip, though, is to START SIMPLE. Don't overcomplicate things. If writing is not your thing then make lists. If you just want to sketch then do that. If you want to make collages then do that. The best journals are a mix of everything - writing, lists, art, cutouts and keepsakes. Just START!
The idea is to preserve a moment in time. Writing in a journal does just that. Let me know how it goes.
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FOLLOW ME
Writer's Prompt: 3 Things
The bold face print is the topic. What follows are the three answers. If you keep a journal, write it in your journal. If you blog, post it. If you don't do either, each topic is a great way to break the ice with new people you meet. There's nothing like having something prepared to talk about and ask when you're around people you've never met.
Three Names I Go By:
1. Babe -- I don't think my popps has ever used my given name. LOL
2. Neena / Neeroc -- Neena started out as Neeroc, which is my given name backwards. A friend shortened it to NEENA and the rest is history.
3. Reen -- shortened given name
Three Screen Names I Have:
1. NeenaLove
2. LoveNeenaLove -- as in the way I end a written letter...
Love,
NeenaLove
3. hula_heffa -- this was the yahoo days. I don't even know if that username still works.
Three Things I Like About Myself:
1. My heart -- my parents gifted me a generous heart by their example and how they love/d everybody
2. My brains -- sometimes my brain is a little too strong and it talks me out of doing really big and risky things that can work out;
3. My talents -- because my brain is so active and complex, I learn things relatively quickly. I am really gifted with my hands. I like to DIY anything and everything. Photography. Floral Arranging. Graphic Design. I will try anything once.
Three Things I DisLike About Myself:
1. Sometimes my self-confidence takes a beating when I fail at something. Then my friends and family build me up again.
2. I get distracted easily. I don't even have to explain that.
3. Either I OVERTHINK something or I do the exact opposite and go wherever the wind blows. The freespirit part... I love that about me. The overthinking... not so much!
Three Parts Of My Heritage:
1. Hawaiian
2. Samoan
3. LOVE, sweet Love
Three Things That Scare Me:
1. Growing old alone
2. Dying alone
3. Dying with my dreams still in me, unrealized.
Three Everyday Essentials:
1. Coffee
2. A shower in the morning and in the evening
3. Sad but true... social media
Three Things I'm Wearing Right Now:
1. A warm, tiger print robe
2. Socks
3. Underwear
Three Of My Favorite Artists at the Moment:
1. Kem -- so much of his music speaks to me; the lyrics and his unique voice
2. Raheem Devaughn -- his stuff just doesn't get old
3. Jaheim -- I still love all of his music all these years later
Three of my Favorite Songs at the Moment:
1. Promise to Love -- Kem
2. Ridiculous -- Raheem Devaughn
3. In My Hands -- Jaheim
Three New Things I Want to do in the Next Year:
1. Kick the 9-5 for entrepreneurship -- take the risk and make it happen!
2. Reduce personal debt
3. Finish my first and second novel
Three Things I Want in a Relationship:
1. True companionship -- have fun together, love hard, play hard
2. True partnership -- collaborate on building an empire
3. Quality Time -- more time together
Three Things I Can't Do:
1. Whisper -- anyone who knows me in real time knows this is the God's honest truth.
2. Make a good pie crust, yet
3. I never give up. I can't!
Three Hobbies:
1. Floral everything
2. DIY everything -- I used to love refinishing furniture
3. Graphic Design
Three Things I Wanna Do Really Badly Right Now:
1. Drive two hours south for some Quality Time with my boo
2. Watch a really good Christmas movie -- one that I've never seen before
3. Splurge at Michael's -- a craft store -- so I can finish up my tree
Three Places I've Never Been to that I'd Like to Visit:
1. Thailand -- hopefully with my Popps. He has so much stories from his days during the Vietnam war. He was stationed there with the United States Air Force. It would be nice to go back there with him.
2. Samoa -- wish my mom was here so I could go there with her.
3. China -- again, with my Popps. Walk the Great Wall of China.
Three Things I Want to do Before I Die:
1. Be a millionaire
2. Make a difference in the world
3. Forgive and be forgiven
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FOLLOW ME
NATURAL DISASTERS - What Are Your Memories?
It was September 1992.
I was 17 years old. My senior year in high school had just commenced.
Hurricane Iniki was touted as the most powerful hurricane to hit Hawai'i in recorded history. It was a Category 4 hurricane when it hit the island of Kaua'i. The damage it left in its wake was heartbreaking. I have extended family in the Ha'ena, Wainiha, Hanalei region so it was sad to see the damage.
The island I lived on, O'ahu, had been spared any real major damage. We had dodged the fury of Iniki in my little town of Hau'ula. The day the hurricane arrived was a Friday. When O'ahu had received the all-clear sign, I instantly went back to teenage mode instead of worrying about my life and the unknown future. Being that it was Friday night, I wanted to hang out with my friends.
A few of us met up at the BYU Hawaii Campus. The Canon Activities Center on-campus was doubling as the Red Cross Shelter. We normally hung out there on the weekends. It was a safe place. Clean. It had a snackbar with inexpensive food and there were college boys.
The remnants of the hurricane left us with light passing showers and cloudy skies with a full moon hiding behind it. Naomi (high school bestie) and I were sitting near the box office of the Canon Activities Center. A couple of our guy friends came by also. We sat there laughing and talking. And then a peculiar thing happened. The full moon revealed itself from behind the rain clouds. One of my guy friends, let's call him Scott, went into this weird trance. We all started laughing while he was stoic and contemplative.
He proceeded to tell us a story. I cannot remember all of the details but I remember the important stuff. Scott said he had a dream one night. He was compelled to walk out of his home in the middle of the night and directed to go to the intersection of Moana Street and Kulanui Street. There, a man in black waited. (I swear this is not a reference to The Gunslinger stories by Stephen King.) The man in black asked Scott if he wanted to live forever and have supernatural strength. Scott agreed and did as the man in black directed. He lay down on the ground at the "crossroad" of Moana Street and Kulanui and sold his soul to the devil.
I couldn't figure out if he was telling the truth or if it was a scary story for a stormy night. I giggled at first (probably an attempt to calm my fears) but was completely weirded out by the visuals that I had in my mind of the man in black. I wondered what the man's face looked like. Was he like that creepy old man, Reverend Kane on Poltergeist II? Or was he a mirror of Scott's deepest fears?
Naomi and I stood up to move away from him. He stood up immediately also and began following us as we backed away from him.
"Scott. Stop! What are you doing?" I asked.
The full moon was so bright above him. He towered over us. He turned his head to the moon and began howling at the moon as if he were a werewolf. When he faced us after his howl, he raised his arms up, his hands mimicking the claws of an animal and began chasing us. Naomi and I screamed. We were both on the borderline between laughter and terror. Scott saw the terror on our face and fell down laughing. When we seen that he was laughing, Naomi and I calmed down and started laughing too.
At the end of the evening, Naomi and I talked about it and we couldn't figure out if Scott was joking or if he was telling the truth. Til this day I still wonder.
The Woven Coverlet
I awoke very early this morning. A dream had disturbed my sleep. In the dream, my father was riding a motorcycle with my mother riding on the back. She was holding him tight. I was in Las Vegas and they were coming to meet me. When they rolled past me in the dream, I woke up and couldn't go back to sleep. In my video podcast the other day I talked about my mother. I suppose that is why she is on my mind now and infiltrating my dreams. Every so often she pops up in my dreams.
I got out of bed and started cleaning my house. The kitchen needed to be tidied up and the second bathroom needed some attention. I replaced the sheets on my bed with a new set. As I was pulling out the sheets from the linen closet, I had to move a beautiful woven coverlet out of the way. I decided to use the coverlet on the bed even though it is more for the winter months because of its weight. The coverlet is a gift to me from my mother. My mother received it as a gift from her aunt, Atoali'i, on her wedding day, September 11, 1971. Aunty Atoali'i flew from New Zealand to attend the nuptials of my parents. She brought the very heavy and expensive coverlet all that way.
My mother never used the coverlet. Ever. I saw it for the first time when she gifted it to me. She told me the story of where it came from and how she carefully preserved it so that she could give it to me on my wedding day. One day I will pass this on to my third niece on her wedding day. (Niece #1 and Niece #2 have other items that I saved for them.) Hopefully she will take good care of it so that it will continue through space and time and she can tell this same story to her daughter on her wedding day.
We attach all our sentimentality onto an object, an heirloom, and we pass it forward through time. My mother has no memory attached to the coverlet except that she received it from her aunt as a wedding gift. There's no sensational story about how it was the only thing she and my father had in their first year of marriage. No story about how it got wet in a flood and was the only thing they salvaged of all their material possessions. No. There's no story because the coverlet was tucked away in her bedroom closet along with her and my father's vinyl LP's and the very expensive genuine silver flatware that was also a wedding gift.
So what, exactly, was my mother's intention in saving this gorgeous coverlet for me? I have concluded that she placed all her hopes and dreams for me onto it. It is an expensive item that she never found occasion to use but she knew that, even before I was conceived, she would pass it on to her daughter. Me. And I don't know what her hopes for me were. She never shared them with me. One day when I do give this coverlet to niece #3, I will tell her this story and I will tell her all of my hopes and my dreams for her.
I hope she will eat healthy and take care of her body because it houses her spirit and her mind. I hope that she will always be her most genuine and authentic and be true to herself even in the face of fierce opposition that may sometimes be from her closest family and friends. I hope that she will choose to be happy all the days of her life even when the trials of daily life threaten to overcome her. I hope that she will always hear and listen to her own voice and trust her gut instincts because her life is hers to live and no one elses. I hope that if she is religious, she will also be spiritual, and always remember that the qualities of love and compassion affect humanity more positively than dogma. Most of all, I hope she lives a magnificent life and that she is always surrounded by people who love her and treat her like the little queen that she is.
What is the Best Piece of Advice You Have Ever Received?
I had a conversation with an old friend this past weekend. It was different than any other conversation he and I have ever had. Without disclosing too much about him, I have fond memories of us that go way back. We may have lost touch over the years but we have never lost the closeness that we've shared. When we've seen each other in person, we are still the way we were way back when. The last time I seen him, I was picking food off his plate that he hadn't touched yet. He didn't seem to mind. I will always consider him a "bestie" and he feels the same way too. Up until this point our friendship has always been platonic. NO funny business at all. I suppose it still is platonic because he is married and a very devoted father to his children.
At one point, nearly two decades back, we were hanging out a lot. I was separated from my first husband and he was single. We would take these long rides around the island and just talk and laugh. We have always been able to relate to each other and there were never any awkward silences, ever! In our conversation over Facebook Messenger, he changed the condition of our friendship, somewhat by relating his emotions and feelings. I lifted his exact words from our conversation, "All those times we went cruising, we shoulda made love to this song." The song, you ask? I Wanna Be Loved by Eric Benet. I don't know how long he has thought of me in that way. If these are old feelings from way back when, why did he wait to tell me? If these are new feelings, why now?
Nothing can really blossom from his revealed feelings unless we rendezvous like hormone-crazed teenagers. That would make him an adulterer and me the skanky ho that wanted it. You know how you've been friends with someone so long, you take on a certain persona when you're with them. I was in his "friend zone" and never, in my mind, to be more than that. We have never crossed that line between friends and lovers. I was always very careful not to provoke it because I knew too much about him but mostly because I never thought he was attracted to me. He never tried either.
When we would hang out, we would traverse every topic on the planet from funny and entertaining to heavy and deep. On one of our long drives, I revealed to him my biggest dream - to write. We talked about way more than that and he was actually "with it" too. That was nearly 20 years ago and I'm just starting on the dream. For whatever reason we found ourselves in a conversation about why he and I never hooked up, I am grateful for the way he sees me. Lifted from our conversation, "Sorry about your marriage but I don't think men understand the responsibility and privilege of being with you." That right there! Am I wrong to think that he is seeing value in me in a way that my ex(es) didn't? And if so, why now? I can't lie, it brought tears to my eyes. I carry around this broken heart, trying to move forward but still feeling every bit of inadequate to allow someone to love me again. Who can love a girl that has been abandoned, twice? There must be something wrong with me, right?
He dropped nuggets of advice on me that seem to come from deep inside his heart. What he said to me makes me think that he wants me to have the fairy tale that I always talk about. I feel like his sentiments came from such an unselfish and genuine place and it kind of knocked me off my feet; so much so that I am thinking about it a day later.
HIM: For realz tho if us men were mature enough to appreciate a beautiful, intelligent woman like you is better than a million hoochies, you'd get the man you deserve.
ME: Maybe one day
So what is the bit of advice that he gave me?
HIM: Don't give up hope and for God's sake don't settle.
Simple! And though I've had tons of advice over my lifetime from dearest friends and family, for some reason, those words hit me like a ton of bricks. DON'T SETTLE!
HIM: Rudy Giuliani said, "Never compromise your principles because the worst thing you can do is compromise and lose." You deserve a finished product at this stage of your life.
Okay who walks around with Giuliani quotes in his head? LOL
ME: On the real, I'm not looking for anything. I am going to do me. Make all my dreams come true.
HIM: If someone can add to those dreams then let em in. Easy to say but hard to do... but you got this. Remember Five Heartbeats? Your greatest writing will come once you have known pain.
His 'drop the mic' closing sentiment: Still wish we made love but will have to settle for loving you from afar.
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Drive By Post : Birthday Weekend
Wow. Whirlwind of a weekend. Knocked me off my normal pattern for blogging, writing, and social media.
I had a really good time this past weekend. I hung out with old friends and family, met new friends, and partied like a rock star. This year has been a little different in how I celebrate Leo Season because I am devoting every spare moment to the writing of my novel. I started out writing a contemporary American romance. It is not that anymore. It has evolved into something more meaningful than romance and there are so many facets to it that I had not originally conceptualized. It is STILL a love story. I am in love with my body of work. And there are a million other stories tinkering in my brain and in my imagination; characters that are peeking from behind the dust in my mind. They are fighting to come out. This makes me sound schizophrenic. I'm not! LOL... but I do live in fairy tale land. Most story-tellers do!
I drove out to Maryland for my birthday weekend. My cousin met me there and we hung out with my sister-bestie at her home and in her hood. Before driving out to Maryland, I had written in my journal that I wanted to go dancing and oh-my-goodness I DANCED. My legs felt like jello, they still feel like jello, and I realize that I do need to go back to the gym. I love to dance. I may not be good at it but I really do enjoy it. I especially love it when I've been dancing with someone all night, having a good time, and that last slow jam comes on to close out the night. That is the best! I want to be with someone that loves to dance too... especially if he's good at it.
You never know what can happen in a single moment. It can change the course of your life. One simple act. One single moment can change your perspective on EVERYTHING.
I had a really good time this past weekend. I hung out with old friends and family, met new friends, and partied like a rock star. This year has been a little different in how I celebrate Leo Season because I am devoting every spare moment to the writing of my novel. I started out writing a contemporary American romance. It is not that anymore. It has evolved into something more meaningful than romance and there are so many facets to it that I had not originally conceptualized. It is STILL a love story. I am in love with my body of work. And there are a million other stories tinkering in my brain and in my imagination; characters that are peeking from behind the dust in my mind. They are fighting to come out. This makes me sound schizophrenic. I'm not! LOL... but I do live in fairy tale land. Most story-tellers do!
I drove out to Maryland for my birthday weekend. My cousin met me there and we hung out with my sister-bestie at her home and in her hood. Before driving out to Maryland, I had written in my journal that I wanted to go dancing and oh-my-goodness I DANCED. My legs felt like jello, they still feel like jello, and I realize that I do need to go back to the gym. I love to dance. I may not be good at it but I really do enjoy it. I especially love it when I've been dancing with someone all night, having a good time, and that last slow jam comes on to close out the night. That is the best! I want to be with someone that loves to dance too... especially if he's good at it.
You never know what can happen in a single moment. It can change the course of your life. One simple act. One single moment can change your perspective on EVERYTHING.
Homage to the Sisterhood
If there is anything that I have learned over the past 20 months, it is the unbelievable amount of support I have. I am extremely humbled and so grateful for the many souls that continue to push me, support me, and encourage me. The past 20 months has truly been difficult; full of so much change and discovery, a myriad of emotions, tears, grief, triumph, fear, and love. Sweet Love. And with all of the ups and the downs, I feel so alive. I feel like I am living at the edge of my previously well-defined limits and pushing, ever pushing my known boundaries. This move to South Carolina, at first, was so scary. I was terrified and yet I felt so excited and invigorated. I still feel so invigorated by being here.
There is so much that I have discovered about myself. I fight against the old me that says, "I can't." In reality, I am discovering that, "I Can and I Will..." I will live my biggest dream. The path ahead is unknown except that I will do whatever it takes to publish, to extend my entrepreneurship beyond its current limitations, and move ever so quickly into prosperity. Breaking through my limitations is difficult only that I have known one way for all of my life. I saw my parents do it and I do it now - the comfort of a job with salary and benefits. I feel myself falling into that comfortable, familiar place where everything is predictable and I swore that I would never be that girl again. I don't want to fall into the hum drum of predictability. And going to a 9 to 5, I feel so underutilized. I know how many talents and gifts I have been blessed with and it is wasting away at a regular job because this regular job requires so little of me. It is NOT challenging. **sigh**
I need constant reminders from people holding me accountable. My closest friends/family are ON ME about the goals and things I said I would achieve. And when they check me and I give a million excuses for why I haven't done what I said I would do I am reminded to get back on the wagon and write and put into action all of my grand plans.
I just want to say how grateful I am for the women and men that push me and prod me into productivity. I want to say thank you to the ladies (and my brothers) that lets me cry it out until my vision is clear. And surely they must be tired of my swollen eyes full of tears, snot running down my face, ugly cry and yet they still listen. I want to say thank you to my popps who never judges me and allows me to blossom in my own way. He really gets me and he is always there when I need him. ALWAYS! I am ever grateful for the husbands of the wives who are my closest friends. Surely, those women would not be able to support me in ALLLL of my times of need without the willingness of their husbands. So even though the title of the blog is an Homage to the Sisterhood, I know that there are men behind the scenes that support me too.
I am learning to trust my own voice. I commit to trusting the power in my thoughts and in my words. Though I value the words of those closest to me, ultimately, I am the one that must follow my authentic path. I see so clearly my rising star. I welcome it. I am happy to accept the responsibility that comes with all my gifts and talents.
You Think You Pretty?
I was raised in a culture that demanded humility and absolutely NO outward expressions of vanity. I am 42 years old and I am still desperately trying to overcome the idea that honoring my beauty is bad. I am sure that many Samoan girls and women can identify with this. I grew up getting berated for trying to be "beautiful". My mother, her mother, her sisters would call me "cheeky" if I spent too much time in the mirror. The result was me being very uncomfortable with my femininity. It was easier to be a "tom boy" and mimic the actions of my older brother because he was almost honored for his brawn and his physical attributes. If he played flag football, I wanted to play flag football. He wanted Jordans, I wanted Jordans. Even my selection in clothing looked like his - very boyish and masculine. If he got a duffel bag for his football stuff, I wanted one instead of a purse. Eventually I embraced my femininity in my late teen years but the transformation was very awkward.
It was the day of my senior prom the first time I let my mother take a tweezer to my eyebrows. She had wanted to do it several times before but I absolutely would not let her because she had discouraged it so much in my childhood. And now that I was turning into a woman, at least physically, I just didn't trust that she wanted me to be beautiful because she didn't want that for me when I was a child. Well, that's not entirely true. It's not that she didn't want me to be beautiful. It's like she didn't want me to know that I was beautiful?!
My mother actually graduated from beauty school. She loved doing hair. I have pictures of me as a child with beautifully coiffed hair styles that were far too grown up for me. It's funny how these coming-of-age experiences stand out in my memory. When I think of the tweezing experience, I am immediately transported back to that moment in time. I about died from the pain of it and only allowed her to do one side. This is why you will NEVER see me post pictures from my senior prom because I only had one eyebrow shaped and plucked. The other side was my normal. I think I destroyed most of the pictures from that night anyway. Several months after the prom, after I had graduated from high school, I was sitting in a friend's home in Carson, California. She was my bestie at the time. We were talking while she plucked her eyebrows. It was at that very moment that I decided to finish what my mother had started.
I have spent a good portion of my life trying to understand why I was discouraged from honoring my beauty. Even now, it feels funny to refer to myself as beautiful. My mother's insistence on modesty in the way I dressed and how I behaved is probably a reflection on her upbringing. Thus, it was the only way she knew how to mother me. As a grown woman now, I can understand some of her reasoning but I wish she would have fostered my self-esteem and help me to appreciate my reflection and my body. Instead, I was shamed into behaving a certain way. I will never understand the use of shame as a tool for control. It has such terrible side-effects that lasts long into adulthood. I know it sounds like I blame my mother entirely for the way I interpreted her mothering. That is not entirely true. She did the best she could with the tools she had.
Being teased by other kids had a large impact on my self esteem also. On so many occasions I remember getting dressed for school, feeling pretty as I walked out the door. As soon as I got to school, one particular boy would ALWAYS tease me about something and most times it had to do with the way I looked. And in typical bully fashion, he was the instigator in his group of friends. His friends would giggle and laugh at his remarks at my expense. I had no words to defend myself. Even now, my eyes well-up with tears thinking of how he made me feel. I think if I had the confidence to know that his words didn't matter, I would not have tried to disappear into the wall whenever he was around. Surely, I tried desperately to stay out of his way. I didn't have thick enough skin to deal with his put downs. Maybe things would have been different if the women in my family helped build me up instead of tear me down. Maybe I would have been stronger to not take to heart what the bully was saying about me. We will never know.
The old me would turn into a shrinking violet if someone was to tell me, "You think you pretty?" Really, the person asking the question is insinuating that I think I'm better than everyone else and that I am really not that pretty, else why would he or she ask the question. "Do you think you're pretty? Cuz you're not," that is the real meaning of the question. I know it sounds strange but in my 'hood, where I'm from, this is a typical reaction to a beautiful person. It reeks of insecurity and a touch of jealousy. I know very attractive people that have asked that question, "You think you pretty?"
The new me has no patience for anyone that wants to stifle my enthusiasm for my reflection. And if you ask me that question today, "You think you pretty?" My answer is emphatically, "Hell yeah! I do think I'm pretty. I'm gorgeous. I am beautiful." Really? That is so shallow. My physical appearance is not even the best part of me. And as I step out from behind the shadow of my childhood where being beautiful was somehow dirty, I refuse to let anyone tell me different. Hell Yeah, I think I'm pretty!!
It was the day of my senior prom the first time I let my mother take a tweezer to my eyebrows. She had wanted to do it several times before but I absolutely would not let her because she had discouraged it so much in my childhood. And now that I was turning into a woman, at least physically, I just didn't trust that she wanted me to be beautiful because she didn't want that for me when I was a child. Well, that's not entirely true. It's not that she didn't want me to be beautiful. It's like she didn't want me to know that I was beautiful?!
My mother actually graduated from beauty school. She loved doing hair. I have pictures of me as a child with beautifully coiffed hair styles that were far too grown up for me. It's funny how these coming-of-age experiences stand out in my memory. When I think of the tweezing experience, I am immediately transported back to that moment in time. I about died from the pain of it and only allowed her to do one side. This is why you will NEVER see me post pictures from my senior prom because I only had one eyebrow shaped and plucked. The other side was my normal. I think I destroyed most of the pictures from that night anyway. Several months after the prom, after I had graduated from high school, I was sitting in a friend's home in Carson, California. She was my bestie at the time. We were talking while she plucked her eyebrows. It was at that very moment that I decided to finish what my mother had started.
I have spent a good portion of my life trying to understand why I was discouraged from honoring my beauty. Even now, it feels funny to refer to myself as beautiful. My mother's insistence on modesty in the way I dressed and how I behaved is probably a reflection on her upbringing. Thus, it was the only way she knew how to mother me. As a grown woman now, I can understand some of her reasoning but I wish she would have fostered my self-esteem and help me to appreciate my reflection and my body. Instead, I was shamed into behaving a certain way. I will never understand the use of shame as a tool for control. It has such terrible side-effects that lasts long into adulthood. I know it sounds like I blame my mother entirely for the way I interpreted her mothering. That is not entirely true. She did the best she could with the tools she had.
Being teased by other kids had a large impact on my self esteem also. On so many occasions I remember getting dressed for school, feeling pretty as I walked out the door. As soon as I got to school, one particular boy would ALWAYS tease me about something and most times it had to do with the way I looked. And in typical bully fashion, he was the instigator in his group of friends. His friends would giggle and laugh at his remarks at my expense. I had no words to defend myself. Even now, my eyes well-up with tears thinking of how he made me feel. I think if I had the confidence to know that his words didn't matter, I would not have tried to disappear into the wall whenever he was around. Surely, I tried desperately to stay out of his way. I didn't have thick enough skin to deal with his put downs. Maybe things would have been different if the women in my family helped build me up instead of tear me down. Maybe I would have been stronger to not take to heart what the bully was saying about me. We will never know.
The old me would turn into a shrinking violet if someone was to tell me, "You think you pretty?" Really, the person asking the question is insinuating that I think I'm better than everyone else and that I am really not that pretty, else why would he or she ask the question. "Do you think you're pretty? Cuz you're not," that is the real meaning of the question. I know it sounds strange but in my 'hood, where I'm from, this is a typical reaction to a beautiful person. It reeks of insecurity and a touch of jealousy. I know very attractive people that have asked that question, "You think you pretty?"
The new me has no patience for anyone that wants to stifle my enthusiasm for my reflection. And if you ask me that question today, "You think you pretty?" My answer is emphatically, "Hell yeah! I do think I'm pretty. I'm gorgeous. I am beautiful." Really? That is so shallow. My physical appearance is not even the best part of me. And as I step out from behind the shadow of my childhood where being beautiful was somehow dirty, I refuse to let anyone tell me different. Hell Yeah, I think I'm pretty!!
#1yearLater
A year ago I was stuck on the side of the road in Nowhere, South Carolina (not a real town). I had struck a deer in my rental car and I was unable to continue my drive to the coast. A seemingly random event that, all things considered, was really just a random event has actually changed the course of my life. I look back at a year ago and the heavy heart that I carried around with me. I was newly divorced, had a really bad experience with an ex over the 2016 Christmas holiday, and was in such a bad place. The open roads of Georgia and South Carolina called to me. I needed the time and the space and the open road to just think and ponder how I would lift myself out of the dark place I was in.
I flew from Honolulu, Hawai'i to Atlanta, Georgia. I had not planned to hang with family in Georgia but I selected Georgia specifically because I had family nearby. I like having the comfort of knowing that people I can count on could be called in the case of an emergency. I was searching for something, anything, to make my heart happy again. My intention was to find that place in me through the silence of the dark roads and the seemingly endless open highway. As I picked up my rental car, I selected to travel east, south east to the eastern shores of South Carolina and Georgia. I wanted to look out onto the Atlantic Ocean to see if maybe I could find a new ocean to love - far away from the Pacific.
I have a love affair with the ocean. I will never stop loving the ocean and the feeling of being submerged in its waters. The Pacific, though, reminded me of all the good times I have had with the two loves of my life - both are ex-husbands now - and I just wanted to run away. Run far away from the place that I loved so much. I was hungry for new experiences and new places. I wanted to let my hair down and find the authentic me that was so caged up in Hawai'i. I wanted to run away from the pain and the hurt that I felt at the hands of my newly single ex-husband. I wanted to love him forever and I suppose a part of me always will but I needed to run away.
5:30 p.m. I pull out of the Atlanta-Hartsfield airport and make my way to I20-E. I drove for hours and hours through Augusta, GA through Columbia, SC. As I made my way toward Myrtle Beach, I pulled off the interstate and onto the lonely county highways. It was dark, so very dark, and I found myself so lost in the sadness and grief that was my life. Nothing like a broken heart to bring a person face to face with all of their flaws and brokenness. I felt alone.
I was just an hour away from Myrtle Beach when I hit the deer. It took hours for the tow truck to get to us because I was in such an isolated location. My cell phone didn't work, the State Trooper took about thirty minutes to get to me. The whole experience had brought me to my knees and illuminated all of my hurt places - not physical hurt but the emotional broken down places inside of me. The tow truck took me to the nearest town and dropped me off at a hotel where I checked in to hunker down for the night.
And then I met someone.
The electric between him and I was thick and so tangible. There is no way to duplicate that kind of fireworks and that kind of chemistry. I am still at a loss when I think of that evening. A seemingly random event like hitting a deer and wrecking my car has changed the course of my life.
Fast forward one year and here I am in South Carolina. I am settled in and about to buy a house on my own. It's all rather bittersweet for me because I have been married for all of my adult life, it seems. I have always had a partner to help me make decisions, especially the big ones like buying a house. There was always someone to share financial responsibility for the household. And here I am doing it all.by.myself. But this is what I wanted - new adventures, new beginnings, and that is the life I have chosen for myself.
And that someone that I met?
The conversation has been ongoing since that fated evening. #1yearLater
Choosing Happiness
I told him when we split that I can't be "just his friend."
He was keen on telling me that, "We'd always be friends."
He insisted, "I'll always look out for you."
I know that I don't want to see him in that light EVER. I don't want to be "just his friend." It feels like a horrible torturing technique and I don't want any parts of it. I can be civil but I don't want friendship.
Just last night, I wrote in my journal that I don't really think of him and that I don't see how we made it work for thirteen years. I believe that he wanted a submissive woman, a stay-at-home housewife. He wanted to make all the decisions and for the woman (me) to follow. I think I was like that for everything except for where we lived. I just wanted to be in Hawai'i. Oddly enough, as soon as we split, I moved away from Hawai'i within the year. I don't know what kind of sense that makes but here I am in South Carolina and I am loving EVERY.SINGLE.MINUTE of my time here. A good portion of why I left is because he was/is still there. The thought of running into him with another woman was way too much for me to consider. A friend of mine had already run into him with someone else and it shut me down for a couple days. My heart just cannot deal with that right now or maybe ever.
He was my best friend - the one man that could talk me down from any amount of stress. And I loved him so much. God, I loved him. I know there are pieces of me that will always belong to him. When I talk to him on the phone or through text, I get sucked into being friends like we were when we were married and I cannot allow that to be my reality. Yet the truth is that we still have accounts and bills together. There wasn't a clean break when we divorced. Our world was so intertwined and because of that, we still have to be in contact with each other. **sigh**
Parts of me wish for it back and then I remember the not-so-good things and realize that I am good. I am making my way in the world and I can do this. The freedom at which I move about the world makes me so very happy. So I have a few bad days when I wish for my old life but for the most part, I am doing oh-so-fine and feeling great. The sadness that was me for most of 2016 and 2017 is way out the door. I am choosing happiness today and everyday. YeahYouuu!!
He was keen on telling me that, "We'd always be friends."
He insisted, "I'll always look out for you."
I know that I don't want to see him in that light EVER. I don't want to be "just his friend." It feels like a horrible torturing technique and I don't want any parts of it. I can be civil but I don't want friendship.
Just last night, I wrote in my journal that I don't really think of him and that I don't see how we made it work for thirteen years. I believe that he wanted a submissive woman, a stay-at-home housewife. He wanted to make all the decisions and for the woman (me) to follow. I think I was like that for everything except for where we lived. I just wanted to be in Hawai'i. Oddly enough, as soon as we split, I moved away from Hawai'i within the year. I don't know what kind of sense that makes but here I am in South Carolina and I am loving EVERY.SINGLE.MINUTE of my time here. A good portion of why I left is because he was/is still there. The thought of running into him with another woman was way too much for me to consider. A friend of mine had already run into him with someone else and it shut me down for a couple days. My heart just cannot deal with that right now or maybe ever.
He was my best friend - the one man that could talk me down from any amount of stress. And I loved him so much. God, I loved him. I know there are pieces of me that will always belong to him. When I talk to him on the phone or through text, I get sucked into being friends like we were when we were married and I cannot allow that to be my reality. Yet the truth is that we still have accounts and bills together. There wasn't a clean break when we divorced. Our world was so intertwined and because of that, we still have to be in contact with each other. **sigh**
Parts of me wish for it back and then I remember the not-so-good things and realize that I am good. I am making my way in the world and I can do this. The freedom at which I move about the world makes me so very happy. So I have a few bad days when I wish for my old life but for the most part, I am doing oh-so-fine and feeling great. The sadness that was me for most of 2016 and 2017 is way out the door. I am choosing happiness today and everyday. YeahYouuu!!
Talking To Myself : Random Love Thoughts
Love has dictated all of my adult life.
the pursuit of it
the wanting
the needing
the search for a partner to compliment my soul
This past weekend, I came to a quick realization that I deserve everything my heart desires.
The next time love finds me, it will be without effort, without having to overcome insurmountable odds just for our relationship to exist. I will never have to wonder if he loves me because it will be apparent. His pursuit of me will match or exceed my efforts and I will be in competition with NO ONE.
I have come to realize that I am worthy of a love that is big and sincere. It is not my job to prove to anyone that I am a good woman. Even though I categorize myself as the realest ride-or-die chic, I am not the poster child for all good women.Why should I continue to portray myself as this loyal partner when it goes unappreciated? My display of loyalty and honor and respect for my partner has me sacrificing my own needs. I compromise so much of who I am to be "that girl" for my man. I'm done with that.
Some of my closest friends tell me that I should wait for my ex-husband, wait for him to want me again. I think it is so degrading for me to wait around for him. If I wait for him, I'm telling myself that he is more important than my own needs, that my heart is not as important as his love. It's been a year since we split. I still adore him but I am tired of being sad. I am tired of carrying around my broken heart and if there is love for me on the horizon, may it be pure and free from any pain and heartache.
I don't want to associate new love with any pain or broken hearts. Some say that the pain adds to the the depth of the relationship but I don't need it. I want it to lift me and push me to the highest heights. I want to laugh uncontrollably in his arms and feel the aching in my belly that comes from laughter. I want to feel butterflies every time I think of him and see him. I want to feel him gently supporting my every endeavor no matter how stupid it may sound.
I never want to worry about another broken heart. Thinking of trusting my heart to another man scares me. Is it unrealistic to have an expectation that a man could love me for life? True, faithful, and full of genuine love and affection not just for a couple of years but for life, forever? What I really want is to put all of my broken hearts behind me and never look back. I know I speak about forgiveness and having no malice in my heart but I don't think I can let go of the pain of my broken heart.... at least not yet.
I don't know what tomorrow brings. All I know is the condition of my heart right now. It's a little bruised up and not ready for anything serious. I don't know when I will be ready again. I take it one day at a time. Some days I feel good. Some days it takes everything in me NOT to fall to pieces. Songs normally trigger a reaction. Billy Ocean's "Love is Forever" will have me a complete and utter mess. And, well, I'm tired of the emotion. I am tired of the bouts of sadness. Don't get me wrong though, I love to be in love. Heck, my moniker as of late has been hashtag-i-still-believe-in-love. I do! I really do... just not for me at this very moment.
i am hopeful
i am optimistic
i am moving forward
Sounding Off : Confused
Lately, my extra-curricular activities have taken me to some shady places. I don't know how I find myself in these places at such ungodly hours of the morning but it has definitely made my skin a little thicker and my resolve to surround myself with good people so much stronger.
I do not look down on the people that I observed in these shady places because each and every person battles their own demons. I do, however, know that I do not want to be affiliated with them. I do not want to be on first-name basis with any of them and certainly do not want them popping up in my life whenever they feel like it. I'm not better than anyone but the vibrational levels that they're at and the level that I'm at are two different things.
I see a friend of mine going down such a dark path and feel ill-equipped to steer her from harm's way. I know that I cannot choose for her. She must choose the road she wants to travel. My wish is that she will come out of this temporary escape from reality unscathed. I ride with her because she is one of my most best friends. When I think of her I think of good times and laughing hysterically. I think of how daring she is and how she casts all doubts aside and walks into any fire completely sure that she will overcome it. I think of how we met as little girls and now we're almost middle-aged and we are still riding together. I think of the tears I have shed over the past nine months as she saw me through my split with my ex-husband. She still sees me through it and lets me vent when I need to and we cry and laugh and say crazy ish to make us feel better.
Separately, we are going through crazy things in our relationships. Me, I'm recently divorced and navigating this new single life. Her, well, that's her story to tell. Not mine.
My ex-husband and I have texted back and forth in recent days. We have become more and more friendly. I don't harbor any malice for him but my heart is still so broken and it's because he left me. I am not an angry person but I can't help but think of everything that my ex and I shared. We were really the best of friends and it's hard to not think of and miss that comfortable place. I am just so confused and unsure about the next move that I need to take. It is hard to make the decision to let go of the illusions of forever with him and yet I know I have to. And once I do let go I will lock that space in my heart that he once occupied, never to be opened again.
I know that I don't want anything serious right now. It's like I have to decompress from having been a married woman for all of my adult life. I enjoy being in a relationship but I'm too old to put up with just anything. I was journaling in my written diary about wanting to be swept off my feet with romance. I want to feel that crazy love - whisked away to exotic destinations and showered with gifts and flowers and affection. Every woman wants that, right?! I'm too old to help a man "build" himself. Can't I just have a partner that is already assembled? I know right now that I may seem all put together but the truth is I am in the building stage too but a year from now, I will be at the top of my game. Hopefully it will be more like six months. Of one thing I am certain: when I have it all together NOTHING and NO ONE is going to interfere with the path that I have chosen for myself.
I do not look down on the people that I observed in these shady places because each and every person battles their own demons. I do, however, know that I do not want to be affiliated with them. I do not want to be on first-name basis with any of them and certainly do not want them popping up in my life whenever they feel like it. I'm not better than anyone but the vibrational levels that they're at and the level that I'm at are two different things.
I see a friend of mine going down such a dark path and feel ill-equipped to steer her from harm's way. I know that I cannot choose for her. She must choose the road she wants to travel. My wish is that she will come out of this temporary escape from reality unscathed. I ride with her because she is one of my most best friends. When I think of her I think of good times and laughing hysterically. I think of how daring she is and how she casts all doubts aside and walks into any fire completely sure that she will overcome it. I think of how we met as little girls and now we're almost middle-aged and we are still riding together. I think of the tears I have shed over the past nine months as she saw me through my split with my ex-husband. She still sees me through it and lets me vent when I need to and we cry and laugh and say crazy ish to make us feel better.
Separately, we are going through crazy things in our relationships. Me, I'm recently divorced and navigating this new single life. Her, well, that's her story to tell. Not mine.
My ex-husband and I have texted back and forth in recent days. We have become more and more friendly. I don't harbor any malice for him but my heart is still so broken and it's because he left me. I am not an angry person but I can't help but think of everything that my ex and I shared. We were really the best of friends and it's hard to not think of and miss that comfortable place. I am just so confused and unsure about the next move that I need to take. It is hard to make the decision to let go of the illusions of forever with him and yet I know I have to. And once I do let go I will lock that space in my heart that he once occupied, never to be opened again.
I know that I don't want anything serious right now. It's like I have to decompress from having been a married woman for all of my adult life. I enjoy being in a relationship but I'm too old to put up with just anything. I was journaling in my written diary about wanting to be swept off my feet with romance. I want to feel that crazy love - whisked away to exotic destinations and showered with gifts and flowers and affection. Every woman wants that, right?! I'm too old to help a man "build" himself. Can't I just have a partner that is already assembled? I know right now that I may seem all put together but the truth is I am in the building stage too but a year from now, I will be at the top of my game. Hopefully it will be more like six months. Of one thing I am certain: when I have it all together NOTHING and NO ONE is going to interfere with the path that I have chosen for myself.
NeenaLove Epiphanies: Moana Movie
I am on a flight headed home to Hawai'i but this journey home is different.
I will be 42 in exactly one month. I have blogged continuously in recent months that this is not exactly what 42 is supposed to look like for me. And I have made crucial decisions in recent days and weeks that will move me in an entirely different direction. If there is any time that I should reinvent myself, now is the time.
Interestingly enough, I am watching Disney's Moana cartoon. When I saw this movie in the theatre, I cried my eyes out. There are so many similarities to my life in this movie. In typical Pacific Island cultures, a single woman remains home until she is married off. Well, I am the survivor of two failed marriages and my father is now worried about my well-being, about me being "taken care of," and his concern for my safety. I get it. I get that a parent wants to keep their child safe and far, far away from unnecessary risk and danger. However, I have been on my own for a very long time and am fully capable of caring for my temporal needs. I appreciate that I have such a concerned father and my brothers are ALWAYS, ALWAYS looking out for me. I feel so "spoiled" by them.
Though I can care for my temporal needs, I often find myself so needy for emotional support. A very special person has consistently stepped up, offering his time and his ears and priceless counsel on my broken heart. My closest friends have also been so pivotal in my healing. Whether it was offering a welcome distraction with a late night trip to the bar, buying me an airplane ticket to get off the rock, sitting next to me and crying like she was getting divorced too, temporarily elevating the mood with a lil something, or just giving positive vibes -- I am so grateful for my dearest friends and family. I should be so lucky, so blessed, to be loved by so many people.
There's a part in the movie where her father forbids her from going beyond the reef. And yet Moana is constantly called by the horizon. Her inner voice beckons her to follow the call to go beyond the reef and yet she must balance that voice with her obedience to her father and cultural traditions. I feel that right now - I love that I have such a good relationship with my father and I know he only wants the best for me but there is something far greater calling me to rise to my highest potential. And it requires me to sacrifice the things that I love right now to move toward my life goals. And I see my biggest dreams as so tangible and so within my reach if I just make these sacrifices right now. If I want something different from my life then I have to take different actions. Now. Now is the time to reinvent myself! Also, at the end of the day I need to carve out a life for myself independent of my life with my father and my brothers.
Another thing that I absolutely adore is Moana's relationship with her grandmother. Her grandmother can see Moana's potential so clear and is the right support system to allow Moana to have enough confidence in herself to pursue her dream. Gramma sings to Moana:
You may hear a voice inside
And if the voice starts to whisper
To follow the farthest star
Moana, that voice inside is who you are
I always want to see everyone I come in contact with as God sees them. And I support everyone's most positive ambitions. As I hear a voice whispering, no, shouting at me to change direction in my life, I am going to listen to it. It is who I am and what I was born to do. I can see my star rising. It is so extraordinarily clear.
My Time to Jump
In the past few months I have talked incessantly about my rising star. I don't know what that's about but I feel it in my gut so strong and urgent. And I don't say it with arrogance or even confidence except that I feel it so strongly - a life calling me that is bigger than the here and now and bigger than I can currently imagine.
I suspect that all the pain I have experienced and all the joys have contributed to the me that I am right now. I do not look at my trail of broken hearts and severed relationships as anything but what it is - two people choosing different paths in life. I respect and honor the choices of the men that have left me. It is their authentic choice. Maybe at the end of my life I will understand the whys of their leaving me but today is not that day. I will always find love in the way that it always finds me. I know my value today and will not settle for less than a man that excites me and sets my world on fire. One that will support my every dream no matter how ridiculous it sounds. Someone that believes in me.
But beyond the wonder and magic of love, I am excited about the power I have to create the life I have always wanted to live. I can take the crazy risks that have always been nestled in my heart of hearts without fear of a less-than supportive mate. I know that the glue that holds me together today is my belief that I can do whatever my mind can conceive. And there is nothing holding me back except my own stubbornness to accept the path that is laid out before me. I still look back at my past wanting and wishing that things could be different instead of looking forward with my eyes single to the pursuit and completion of my goals. I can see so clearly the grandness of my life and the power within me to do what I once thought was impossible.
I still feel great love for my ex and yet understand with exactness that he does not feel love for me anymore. And though I continually mourn the end of that relationship and I occasionally cry myself to sleep just missing his presence in my life, I accept his choice to leave. I welcome the wonder of every tomorrow and marvel at my resilience to rise above the disappointment of that failed relationship. God knows my heart and the potential for which I strive to live up to.
I am here in Maryland and will drive down to South Carolina later this week. And before I flew out here last week, I had a minor meltdown at home. I found myself feeling like I was at rock bottom with all the things going on in my life. I was moving out of the house I was living in and had nowhere to go except back to my father's house. I have no car because my car had been wrecked in a car accident that I was involved in. If you had seen the condition of the car, you would marvel that I even survived.
Nothing is working for me on "my island" and I realized, as I sat sobbing at my predicament, that it is time for me to spread my wings and move away from Hawai'i. God knows I love my island home and my family there but if I am to accomplish anything of substance then I must leave and find my fortune wherever the road is taking me. Making that decision before I left lifted a burden off my shoulders. My older brother and my baby brother really pulled it together for me. My older brother co-signed my feelings about leaving the island and said everything I needed to hear to finally make the decision to leave. My baby brother paid my ticket to leave. Though I am not making the move immediately, the decision to do so was the hardest part. And now that I have made it, this vacation that I am on is that much sweeter. I look forward to every tomorrow!
I suspect that all the pain I have experienced and all the joys have contributed to the me that I am right now. I do not look at my trail of broken hearts and severed relationships as anything but what it is - two people choosing different paths in life. I respect and honor the choices of the men that have left me. It is their authentic choice. Maybe at the end of my life I will understand the whys of their leaving me but today is not that day. I will always find love in the way that it always finds me. I know my value today and will not settle for less than a man that excites me and sets my world on fire. One that will support my every dream no matter how ridiculous it sounds. Someone that believes in me.
But beyond the wonder and magic of love, I am excited about the power I have to create the life I have always wanted to live. I can take the crazy risks that have always been nestled in my heart of hearts without fear of a less-than supportive mate. I know that the glue that holds me together today is my belief that I can do whatever my mind can conceive. And there is nothing holding me back except my own stubbornness to accept the path that is laid out before me. I still look back at my past wanting and wishing that things could be different instead of looking forward with my eyes single to the pursuit and completion of my goals. I can see so clearly the grandness of my life and the power within me to do what I once thought was impossible.
I still feel great love for my ex and yet understand with exactness that he does not feel love for me anymore. And though I continually mourn the end of that relationship and I occasionally cry myself to sleep just missing his presence in my life, I accept his choice to leave. I welcome the wonder of every tomorrow and marvel at my resilience to rise above the disappointment of that failed relationship. God knows my heart and the potential for which I strive to live up to.
I am here in Maryland and will drive down to South Carolina later this week. And before I flew out here last week, I had a minor meltdown at home. I found myself feeling like I was at rock bottom with all the things going on in my life. I was moving out of the house I was living in and had nowhere to go except back to my father's house. I have no car because my car had been wrecked in a car accident that I was involved in. If you had seen the condition of the car, you would marvel that I even survived.
Nothing is working for me on "my island" and I realized, as I sat sobbing at my predicament, that it is time for me to spread my wings and move away from Hawai'i. God knows I love my island home and my family there but if I am to accomplish anything of substance then I must leave and find my fortune wherever the road is taking me. Making that decision before I left lifted a burden off my shoulders. My older brother and my baby brother really pulled it together for me. My older brother co-signed my feelings about leaving the island and said everything I needed to hear to finally make the decision to leave. My baby brother paid my ticket to leave. Though I am not making the move immediately, the decision to do so was the hardest part. And now that I have made it, this vacation that I am on is that much sweeter. I look forward to every tomorrow!
Pondering. Journaling.
Since I split from my ex, the road ahead is shrouded in mystery and I feel like I can do ANYTHING and that NOTHING is holding me back from following my wildest curiosities. There are so many doors wide open for me. I feel like I can do anything. And yet, some of the people I am closest to are so critical of my decisions.
I feel like I want a change in my life. I want to get off the rock for a little bit and get my mind right. I am craving new adventures and to distance myself from everything that is going on in my here and now. At the same time, this could definitely be the best "rock bottom" story ever to be told. That's where I feel like I'm at -- Rock Bottom.
I can't wait to see my cousin in Maryland and my BFF who is also in Maryland. I really need to be with them and talk to them about my life. Lord knows I need some direction while I write these books. What I really want to do is lock myself up in a room and not come out until the novel is done. I can't very well do that here in Hawai'i because my phone doesn't stop ringing and well, circumstances will just NOT allow it right now. An artist needs complete silence and maybe some inspiration music but other than that - silence is the key to unlock the creativity in my mind.
Nothing is more important to me right now than changing my career path. Instead of doing what I do, which I'm pretty good at, I want to move toward living my dream. That means being a full-time writer. I don't get why some of the people that are closest to me cannot see my dream and support whatever path that takes me on. I am not leaving anyone behind just because I am moving toward my dream. At the end of my life, heck, at the end of this year, I don't want to have any regrets.
My father is stuck on the fact that I have a good job with great benefits. Me? I'm like, screw the benefits and the good job. What about the great big world out there that's waiting to be seen and experienced? What about the life that I have always dreamed of living? None of that can be achieved by staying in the same position. No one that ever achieved anything did it without opposition from their closest confidants. I suppose I will be the same. **sigh**
I am just so ready to live out loud and not be afraid of putting myself out there and taking this show in an entirely different direction. I don't mean to be disrespectful to my father. God bless him. He has been such a big part of my healing. And his advice and demeanor is always so steady but I think it's time for me to spread my wings and fly.
I feel like I want a change in my life. I want to get off the rock for a little bit and get my mind right. I am craving new adventures and to distance myself from everything that is going on in my here and now. At the same time, this could definitely be the best "rock bottom" story ever to be told. That's where I feel like I'm at -- Rock Bottom.
I can't wait to see my cousin in Maryland and my BFF who is also in Maryland. I really need to be with them and talk to them about my life. Lord knows I need some direction while I write these books. What I really want to do is lock myself up in a room and not come out until the novel is done. I can't very well do that here in Hawai'i because my phone doesn't stop ringing and well, circumstances will just NOT allow it right now. An artist needs complete silence and maybe some inspiration music but other than that - silence is the key to unlock the creativity in my mind.
Nothing is more important to me right now than changing my career path. Instead of doing what I do, which I'm pretty good at, I want to move toward living my dream. That means being a full-time writer. I don't get why some of the people that are closest to me cannot see my dream and support whatever path that takes me on. I am not leaving anyone behind just because I am moving toward my dream. At the end of my life, heck, at the end of this year, I don't want to have any regrets.
My father is stuck on the fact that I have a good job with great benefits. Me? I'm like, screw the benefits and the good job. What about the great big world out there that's waiting to be seen and experienced? What about the life that I have always dreamed of living? None of that can be achieved by staying in the same position. No one that ever achieved anything did it without opposition from their closest confidants. I suppose I will be the same. **sigh**
I am just so ready to live out loud and not be afraid of putting myself out there and taking this show in an entirely different direction. I don't mean to be disrespectful to my father. God bless him. He has been such a big part of my healing. And his advice and demeanor is always so steady but I think it's time for me to spread my wings and fly.
Love Future
In recent days, I have found myself contemplating what I will do next in life. I have this pulsing desire to leave this current situation behind. I want to put so much distance between me and all of my past romantic relationships and scratch out a new existence all by myself. I know I will not do it all by myself. My family and friends are so much a part of my transition. But I feel the need to be all by myself in the world. As crazy as that sounds, I need the peace and tranquility of being alone to find ME again. I need to stretch my legs and gather new experiences and remember the girl I was and figure out the girl I am going to be.
Much of my adult life has found me searching for true love and seeking to find that spark, that magic, that fire. In recent months, I straddle this line between rekindling past love and all of the history that comes with it or should I move toward something brand new without any history or pain. The pattern I find myself in is that I want men that don't want me. Well they want me or they think they want me but they have no idea how to fulfill my needs. They don't pursue me in the traditional way that I dream of, the way I saw my father constantly court my mother or the way I watch my older brother with his wife. I have such beautiful examples of love, unconditional, all around me. How is it that my selection in men is so poor that they always find a reason to leave me?
I have buried two marriages in my short life and right now, I cannot love like that again even though I love being in love. There is no better feeling than the butterflies that arise in my belly when I am in love. There is no better feeling than to be desired by a man that I am absolutely head over heels for. And yet, I have not clearly defined in my head how I want the next relationship to look like moving forward. I would agree with anyone who says that right now is not the time to look for a new love. And yet I feel the stirrings in my belly again. I feel the magic of explosive new love and at the same time, I feel the burn of old love and my mind cannot decipher which is the right way to go. At best, the right way is to sit in stillness and not choose a path at all. The path that is beckoning to me is the one that puts me above everyone else. I cannot live my life for another and neither can they live for me.
Just recently, I started watching the TV Show THIS IS US. The writing is so fabulous. The story line so real and the actors and actresses that bring it to life are stellar. The most recent episode I watched, there is a particular scene where one of the main characters is prompted to seek out his one true love. Kevin shows up at Sophie's door unannounced after not having seen her in 12 years. She was once married to him and he left the marriage. He tells her that she's the one that got away.
Side Note: Every single episode of THIS IS US is chock full of raw human emotion. Love, hate, resentment, anger - it just covers so many emotions and I cry with every single episode.
When Kevin shows up at Sophie's door and reveals his regrets, it instantly reminded me of my own failed first marriage. Everyone has a first love - the one they gave their entire heart to. My first love was also my first husband. I have written about our relationship several times before on this blog and in my handwritten journals. At the end of that marriage, I never quite moved on. It's like he took the biggest piece of my heart with him when he left. And what was left for my second husband was a tiny fraction of my capacity to love and yet there's no denying that I did love my second husband also. This recent break up with him has brought all of the pain and loss of both marriages to the forefront and I grieve. I still sob when I think of the loss of the two great loves in my life. This prompts me to want the magic and electricity of new love. I don't want to dwell on the pain of the past. I have been quite successful at burying the pain and pushing forward without addressing the wounds. But now, now is the time to purge and let it all go once and for all.
I don't know what my love future looks like. What I do know is that I love the bliss of a love without any pain associated with it. What I do know is that magic can happen at the craziest of times and under the strangest of circumstances. What I absolutely know is that synergy and pure, raw attraction is alive and well in me. What I know is that I don't want to label or define the old or the new because it changes it, whatever IT is, and turns it into something I may not want. As I progress through the changing landscape of my life, I will do so with my eye single to my goals. I love to be in love but first I must work on me and that is exactly what I am going to do. God-willing, all of my passion for writing and all of my creative pursuits that make me feel so alive will be realized and love will find me, either way.
The Fading Night
I love to wake up in the early morning while it's still dark out. I brew a cup of coffee. Dark. Black. Stout. I sit on my balcony and wait for the sun to rise. The world is so still and so quiet. Only the breeze through the trees can be heard and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore. The roosters are just about ready to begin crowing but not just yet. Sometimes, on a night where the moon is full, the early morning is awash with moon beams. It casts an eerie glow across the landscape. And when the moon is absent the sky is littered with millions of stars, twinkling and shining it's dim light upon the earth. The scent of the ocean and the smell of white and yellow ginger wafts its way through the tropical air.
This is the most peaceful time of my day. I sit and ponder my mood and the ever changing circumstances of my life.
Most times, I think, "There has to be more to life than clocking in everyday."
"Surely, I was NOT born on this planet to push meaningless paperwork."
I was born to write and to create art with words on a page. I say that with extreme confidence that I am here to tell the stories that are inside of me. I was born to share my hurts and my pains, my struggles and my triumphs, my happiness and my joy. And I was made to do it in a way that is captured so genuinely and arrives on the page from someplace deep inside me, touched by the goddess within.
Every morning is like the previous, after the darkest night, the cock begins to crow announcing the imminent arrival of the morning sun. Both near and off in the distance, the rooster's bark pierces the silence of the morning. My coffee has cooled to a comfortable warmth and its stout bitterness is actually sweet on my tongue. My peaceful meditation returns to thoughts of the precarious situation called my life. In recent months, every pondering has become a struggle to understand the many changes happening to me and around me. I am in a position to make my life everything I want it to be. As exciting as that may seem, it frightens me. It calls for me to be more courageous than I have ever needed to be. The changes force me to stand erect and move in the direction of my destiny, alone, with no one to hold my hand through the painful process of CHANGE.
Seconds turn into minutes. Minutes into hours. As I look toward the east, the dark of night begins to vanish. Slowly, ever so gently, the heavens illuminate the coming of the sun. I can see a glowing ball of fire slowly breach the ocean horizon. The sun's rays turn the heavens into brilliant hues of pink and orange against the purple of the fading night. I am always silenced and awestruck by the beauty of the rising sun upon the Pacific horizon. Even as a young girl, my summer mornings were spent waking early to witness this event. Every day I knew the sun would rise and the darkness would disappear.
The world begins to come alive with sound. Several varieties of birds chirp and sing in a loud array of harmonies. They share beautiful songs of gratitude to accent the awakening earth. Ocean breezes stir the palm trees. Humans begin to stir as I start to hear the whirr sound of cars on the road. I hear my neighbors bustling in their driveways as car doors begin to open and engines start revving. And the light chatter from sleepy children and sleepier parents add to the sounds of the awakening world.
Today, unlike any other day prior, I can see my purpose so clear. It is a brand new day and a new era in the world of NeenaLove. My soul can feel my ancestors gently prodding me into the light of the morning sun. Previous lifetimes have groomed me for this moment and I welcome these changes with new courage. The heartbreak of my past will fade like the night and my sun will rise in glorious brilliance on the life that I was destined to live.
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