**Editor’s note: Thank you to @MrsBlackish for sharing her story about love, heartbreak, healing, and new love. **
I remember like it was yesterday when I first met him. I watched him through the spotless gym glass windows as he walked into the gym. Gahtdamnnn he was fine. He stood at 6’5, his chiseled 220 pound body was perfect but his smile was even more amazing. BLINK, just like that I wanted him to be mine. He got on the machine next to me and I saw that he was reading, reading! I got the nerve to talk to him and we started to chat. The next day I prayed ( seriously) that I would see him again. I did and he asked me for my number. It was perfect, he was PERFECT. Two months later I was his girlfriend.
The other night I watched the Season 4 premiere of Basketball Wives LA. I could call the reality show a “guilty pleasure” but I feel naan guilt about watching it. I enjoy the antics of the show’s spirited cast. I feel a connection with them. Like, I get them. We’re >>here<<.
On a recent hike, a friend of mine was telling me about his family and was particularly animated and passionate when he described the men in his life – his father and uncles. He told me about their hustles and grinds to create and take advantage of various opportunities in order to build their careers and provide for their families. Their work ethic undoubtedly influenced the man he was and the type of life he was working to have for the family he would one day start.
Today is July 7, the anniversary of my birth. I’m not big on celebrating my birthday but I do love getting texts, calls, FB messages, and freestyle bday vmail raps in acknowledgment of my living another year from friends and family.
There’s one bday text in particular that always stands out. Since 2010 (or so), I have received a “Happy Birthday!” text from the same unsaved number. I respond, “thank you!” And communication with this unsaved number ceases.
Today is the 183rd day of the year 2015. There are 182 days left before another new calendar year starts. We’re at the halfway point, folks. Congrats!
I will be 32 in 5 days. This is a great time to reflect on the last 6 months, and consider what could lie ahead for the next 6 months.
My mind often (always?) feels cluttered. Crowded with many thoughts. Creating traffic jams up and down the information highways of my brain. Neural systems putting in overtime processing and planning. Recalling, replaying, reminding, reconsidering. In need of parking garages to be stored, with spaces neatly marked to find when a return is necessary.
Overthink. Overanalyze. Fixate. Perfect. Critique. Question.
Constant self reflection and disparagement is something I do early and often. It is a routine I know. One I’m comfortable in. One I thrive (or drown?) in. Because it is easy to be my worst (best?) critic. If I am hard on me, it will soften the blow of some one else pointing out my shortcomings. Always prepared to take myself down a notch.