Relationships p2

A friend brought to my attention that I ignored romantic relationships in my last post. Romance to me is now a luxury that I do not have time for. I don’t actively ignore or push it away. At least that’s how I like to see it. My life is full of possibilities. At any moment my future can be taken up by a work that will consume me. This is something I actively look for… to be consumed by what I find to be my life’s work. This instead of love, romance, and lust is significantly weightier to my existence. Here is where my Mother would nudge me and say “And God Dear. He comes first”. Of course God is part and parcel of my willingness to even live. To avoid dwelling in the existential I will try to tackle my friend’s request and answer my thoughts on romantic relationships.

Men, romance, love? Honestly I should be the last person to even comment on this topic. In reality I’m the type that needs to be on the receiving end of this post not the beginning. Men to me are puzzle pieces. I love to figure out what type of piece they are and if they are a shape that can fit in the bigger puzzle that is my life. More likely than otherwise they hardly are ever a fit. I’ve had completely curved pieces that were too simple to fit in the swoops and plunging groves of my personality. Then overbearing jagged ones that aimed to make by force a place for themselves. The worse, are the ones that ALMOST fit. Their shapes fit in almost magically on one side. Seeming to complete a portion of my board. However they make it impossible for the puzzle to be complete because one part of their shape is completely wrong for me and throws off the whole board. In the end, I either change the picture of the puzzle to fit them or stay true to my course and they go.

To love or even like and make it work in a lasting relationship is no joke. Compromise and communication of course is key. On the other hand I don’t believe in compromising who you are and definitely not your future for a man or woman. Then again who knows, there might be a guy out there that could actually have my mugu switch**. Though I highly doubt that, my naive days have long passed. If I were to follow the advice in part one of my post on “Relationships” I would say here “give people chances”. Open your heart to possibilities even for those who seem unlikely to be for you.  You never know who could become nourishment and help you flourish. I would love to say all of this and mean it. However… I cant. I don’t believe that to be true when it comes to dating, loving, and sharing your life with someone. This type of relationship is too intimate and powerful to be taken the same way. Here you are IN LOVE not LOVING. If you don’t know the difference then you’re not ready for romance my Dear.

The deeper level of being in love has a destructive power. It CAN do everlasting good or in worse case scenarios – permanent evil. Take care HOW you share yourself. Be careful WHO you choose. CAUTION with this type of relationship is highly advised. I am no longer a chick, stumbling around discovering the world and boys. Nor am I too old to learn more from what life has for me. My advice comes from my early-middle experience. My puzzle board is not yet finished but it has long been started. The boundaries are there and more pieces are coming together filling the gaps quite nicely. I stand in the middle, a space empty but burgeoning with potential, surrounded by what twenty-six years has put together. Some place on this board a masculine piece will fit. Probably in the course of finishing my puzzle I will find that piece. How, where, and when are of no real consequence to me, as long as I am living my life fully one piece at a time.




**make me do foolish things


I’ve been learning a lot lately about relationships. How to keep them, lose them. create them, and maintain them. Also the different intricacies we can have within even the simplest seeming relationship. This year I’ve lost people, let go of people, picked up new ones and grew more intimate with old ones. Once I held only my family close and thought they could be the only trustworthy and valued people in my life. However, now after so much has passed of late I know now that even friends can reach the same or close to the same status of family. Just as you can love your family you can also love those outside your family. This may be a “duh” for others but for me this was a hard revelation to accept. My creed has always been independence, doing it on my own, not asking for help from others. I still follow this to some extent. The change comes that now if I am in dire need of help I will ask for it and not knock myself for involving other people in my problems.

I know there are others out there like me, people that find it difficult trusting other people. Having faith in people in general is foreign. You reading this right now could be one. I’m telling you – I’m telling myself this is not a way to live. It’s not really living – being self-enclosed. A plant would die if it had to depend on only what it could provide within itself. It needs water, sun, and nutrients from the soil to thrive. As people we cannot live fully only on food and water. Our relationships with other people good and bad make-up our environment – our lives.


My Ink Ran Dry

I feel like apologizing for neglecting my blog. Honestly after my last post I lost a lot of the oomph that made me able to write almost everyday. That writing core inside of me was drained. Might still be drained. “When I Dream…” is supposed to become a series documenting my dreams however I’ll have to reconsider if I’ll continue it. Emotionally and mentally the first installment was a drain… I’ll have to pray about it and see how I feel down the road. Apart from that I’ve been feeling optimistic. Soon I’ll be seeing the place I love the most. For those of you that have been following my blog you’ll know where that is (side smile).

Enjoy your Friday night Dears. I hope your making the most of it we don’t always have tomorrow.

When I Dream…

I thought I’d lost the ability to dream. So many mornings I’ve woken up blank and got up to do whatever needed to be done that day. My days were truly days. There was no real night. Not one that involved dreams. I had restless nights where there were blinks and stares… black… then more blinks and then it was morning. Or the exhausted nights where I lay down and got up as if time had been compressed under my eyelids – a blink and hours flew by. I sound as If I’m in mourning. As if I hadn’t wanted to lose my dreams. I had. In fact I’d begged to lose them.

I can’t remember when I started to dread sleeping. Maybe it was a couple of years ago. Time seems so fluid sometimes it’s hard to recollect in exactness. Sleeping then meant dreaming. Could it really be called dreaming? When reality and unreality becomes confused and melted. As if overheated they become fused. I was scared to talk about what happened during the dark hours. My mother always told me not to talk about bad dreams because a lot of times they can manifest themselves in reality if you gave them meat with your words. I feared that if I ever spoke of them my voice would coalesce in the air forming abominations. Oh how even the sight of my room shook me to the core. What made it so horrible was that I never knew if I was sleeping or awake. In one night I could start awake thinking I was awake only to awake from that as if I’d never gotten up. When the sun left and the house grew eerily quiet that’s when it started. I wont speak of it. The one time I did I told my sister. Even then I whispered almost mumbling as If I could be overheard… but by whom? Ha I would laugh. This is absolutely ludicrous there’s absolutely nothing strange going on. Yes I have a few… well many frights but hey it happens… right?

However as a believer of Christ you will never completely believe that. To believe in God you must also believe in the Devil. There are spiritual battles that happen daily on this Earth and if you are not careful and take it as only something small you can be overcome. Back then I did as I was taught I kneeled down and rebuked every occurrence as soon as I truly woke up. Now that I think of it I’m pretty sure things got worse after I visited Nigeria three years ago. As if I’d been followed. I shiver all over. It got so bad that my old fear of the dark returned with a vengeance. The dark just seemed too alive… it spoke. I SAW TOO MUCH. Finally one night I snapped. I screamed and screamed calling out my Savior’s name. I refused to be subjugated in this manner. How dare my life become miserable in my own bloody house? “God I beg you make it all go away. If this is some sort of SIGHT I do not want it! I’d rather that eye become blind than to live like this.” That was my true fear. That I could not cast it out because it was actually God’s hand making me see? My mother is like that. So is my sister. They might see it as a blessing to clearly see the doers of iniquity. However I did not. I just wanted to be Joy only that nothing more. This may be the only time I wanted to embrace mediocrity. Wrap myself in its mundane blanket.

On my knees that night praying to God so hard tears bled down my face. My fingernails dug into my flesh leaving half moons that stayed for days after. I begged Him over and over again until my voice became hoarse, to take it away. I didn’t want it. No more dreams. If I could never dream again then so be it. I did not want to dream anymore!

That night? Morning? Who remembers anymore, I was completely drained. What hope did I have of being answered? If its God’s will then there’s no changing it…

I don’t remember when exactly I stopped dreaming. I just know one day I woke up was brushing my teeth and stopped mid stroke. My eyes were so wide they hurt. Staring back at me was a frozen young woman standing in disbelief. Absolutely nothing had happened last night. If it had for all the grace in the world I knew nothing of it! A grin broke over my face. Immediately I finished brushing and kneeled down and raised my hands, thanking Him for His mercy. He truly is a merciful God he took pity on me. I wept.

Now it is October 2011… and last night I dreamt.

Once again I asked for it. Last year I prayed and fasted for God to give me back my vision – my dreams. I know it wasn’t my two visible eyes that were blinded. Honestly I didn’t want it back I was scared but I had to. I was constantly ill. It was always one thing after another no end in sight. My parents took me to a wise woman or prophetess I think they call them that was visiting their church. We needed a translator because she only spoke Yoruba. She said it was my dreams. The iciness that pierced through me could’ve killed me. The skeptical me wanted to scoff at her but my experience quelled that side. So once again I beseeched God – abashedly for wasn’t I the one that had begged so hard to be rid of it? However this time it didn’t seem to work. I wondered if He was annoyed with me or fed up. After a while I stopped asking thinking it was for the best. Not knowing is safer.

Until I dreamt… last night.

The quality of my dream seemed benign. Even during the dream it FELT like a dream. What was strange was I seemed to know that even in the dream and was happy even during the most horrid moments. Though there were horrible things that occurred I continued to have an unworried and content emotion following my dream self. Even during this scene:

I’m in a car driving after leaving an airport where I had just landed. I had been warned there would be horror to see on the road because tragedy had struck. It was one of those curved roads that curved around a mountainous formation with only a metal railing to my left keeping me from a steep precipice. At a point in the road it becomes hard for me to drive… I tried not to look to the right of me. Tried so hard. My face twitched and sweat broke out on my forehead just from the effort. I knew what was there. I didn’t want to see. I didn’t want to see. I . Did . NOT . WANT . TO . SEE. A moan escapes my lips… an arm hits my windshield. My eyes glance to the right. I gasp and glance back. Too late… Arms, legs, heads… A glassy eye reflected my headlights back at me. Now I couldn’t help but stare… as my car plowed to the left of stacks and stacks of mounted bodies. In the dream it never struck me as strange that the police would stack them to the right so we could drive through. My mind tried to focus on driving and imagined mounds of snow slowing down my car instead of… what it was. 

Horrific? Nightmarish? Actually for me it wasn’t. I woke up relieved. For you see in the past when I dreamt… or did not dream… I never left my room and there were never other victims – other than myself. Even still I trust God completely. He must think I’m strong enough now.


Matthew West “Strong Enough”


I’m still up in the air when it comes to being hooked-up romantically by people. Yes they make me feel uncomfortable. I don’t like that its not really an in person interaction that initiated the relationship or even the “talking phase”. I think the distaste comes from the tone of desperation it gives you. It’s not a natural beginning. It’s more of a manufactured start. I’m a romantic at heart. I also believe that we are born with the chemistry in our body to choose our own mate. There are numerous case studies that have been done on male and female attraction and body chemistry.

“Research done on human females shows that they too prefer men whose MHC genes are the least similar to their own (Richardson 1996)” 

Finding the Perfect Mate: Male Pheromones and Female Attraction

There is much more on this topic that you can find on the net, in books, magazines, etc.

So when we have someone else choose who they think is the best mate for us… doesn’t that mess up the natural flow of things? Aren’t they reacting to what their own body considers would be a good man? Food for thought.

However the older I get the less averse I am to it. Though I still find them distasteful I don’t say no outright anymore. It may be because my own history with men hasn’t been five-star. When you start to doubt your judgment when it comes to choosing a mate that’s when the system you were born with goes haywire. So right now I’m letting it go dormant while I figure out how to fix it. Hook-ups? Well I no longer say outright no (depending on who’s doing the hooking-up) not because I now believe in them but because in this search to reclaim who I am I’m also learning to give people a chance. If it doesn’t work out? I just see it as another networking opportunity. So for now I’m putting aside my romantic ideas and giving the friend of a friend of possibly another friend a chance.