Monday, December 14, 2015

My A to my Z

Let's call her A and she was simply irresistible. I loved writing poetry about her, for her...sometimes as she wished. Late at night, after one too many hour spent talking she'd have an idea and I complied with something. Anything, that was our charm. We enjoyed each other for who we were.

And as we got to know each other more, unfolding and unraveling each other's secrets, she met Z. Without a pause, she introduced him as a concept to me and soon enough I introduced myself to him. It turned out to be fascinating, the relationship between the three of us.

We'll never be able to admit love for each other, that isn't the kind of people we were. But obsessed? Yes. Uncontrollably into each other? Yeah. Absolutely.

It was just fun, really. But, fun can grow into beautiful everlasting or combust. The more days we spent sharing twosome secrets over the third, the more we grew as friends. The more we explored hidden and guarded fantasies, the more important they became in my writing.

She came first as my muse; and he trailed at the end as my editor. Half scrawled erotic stories on my erotica blog Salon de Madame Odalys became soft pillowcases for ecstasy.

It's been almost seven years since we began our friendship. At this point in time A is banned from visiting with Z (cannot indulge in the obsession per A's new lover's rules). Z chides me too much for not writing. A checks up on me, though sometimes she badmouths Z for not being more talkative with me. We're friends, that may never change.

Wednesday, December 9, 2015

From My Mistakes

I haven't explained myself, but I've dissected what happened to deter me away from my church. I don't think I found any real answers, only abstract answers which I've dabbled a bit in a blog post here or there. And that's okay.

All in all I blame myself for not believing in myself and for making myself feel like a total fool for even trying to fit into a church. The shadow of self doubt follows me constantly through every decision in my life. It makes it hard to always be aware of who I am, and the gifts and blessings bestowed upon me. And that's not okay.

Yet I'm trying to learn from my mistakes. If anything, looking back at the experience NOW has made me realize that I had a lot of questions about myself. In the past two years, I've roamed around identities and circle of friends. I took out magic crayons and drew lines between myself and the way I wanted people to treat me. Drew lines between happy and unhappy professions. Circled and underlined things I'd love to do again.

And I tested the boundaries between my loneliness and what it meant to be a nonchurch going person of faith. And that sucked. But going back sucked too, because I hadn't dealt with anything--hey full circle. From my mistakes, I've learned to be thankful. I've learned that I will be unhappy if I don't stay true to myself. And I learned that sometimes life can seem cloudy, but with the passage of time, all can be answered. Even if, abstractly. And that's okay.

Tuesday, December 1, 2015

I Believed It

I have a problem with authoritative figures. Especially if they are older and I'm convinced they are wrong. Moreso if they are women. Women can be the most cutthroat in a corporate setting, or as in my family, or as I learned in a church environment.

I've replayed the sequence and it all leads to a similar instance regarding my grandmother. Before her, life revolved around the patriarch figure, her father. No one can really confirm her tales, but according to grandmother he was a Mexican soldier. He had a temper and left a permanent scar on my grandmother's head from beating her into obedience too much one day. Whoever the man she first married was, he didn't matter after he left her with my mom and and uncles.

My grandmother is a force of nature. She instilled in me a sense of fear and doubt that I believed to be true. As an indirect result, my self disappointment in never pleasing her led to a bigger disappointment in not pleasing the perfectionist who grew in me.

I was, and will never be, enough. Everything I do is wrong. No matter what day it is, whatever the weather, I am wrong. I really believed it.

So when I met with so and so, one to one, and sat her through my ideas. I explained to her the reasoning behind my thoughts, the theories I learned with my degree and experience running organizations. And she said to me, "you don't want to be in charge of any of that."

I didn't, the perfectionist understood perfectly. So that meant I didn't want to be involved. I didn't want to share my opinions. I didn't want to share my views or needs as a member of the congregation. I didn't want to let my self heal in worship. I didn't, I didn't...feel that she wanted me there at all. An obstruction to her plans, I was a nuisance to her matriarchy.