NaNoWriMo

Okay, folks!  It’s that time of year again where I indulge in self-torment, high quantities of caffeine, demonstrate my ability to not forage for food, and agonize over all the crap that has to be done before I can even sit down to write.

This is your warning.  Your only warning.

I may or may not be blogging at all for the wonderful month of November.  I’m pretty sure my stress levels will be determined by how I have failed to do laundry or dishes or clean the house.  Hopefully my boyfriend will get the hint.  Or not.  I can anticipate him providing me with provisions though, as Adele (or Queen) mourn their tales of woe through my iPhone while the clacking of the keyboard mounts a tempestuous tale of its own. Maybe I’ll include some BlackBriar, Sara Barielles, Ellie Goulding, or Eminem to proffer as the muse for my novel.

Sylvia Plath and Hemingway simply will not do as an audible.  But, by the end of November, I may find myself at the end of a rope.  Not to hang myself with but more as a cliffhanger in anticipation of my next novel.  The line is dangling and the fish are already biting.  I’ve had a few read the first few rough drafts of my current novel.  They are begging for more.  One of them even slapped me on the arm, wanting to know where the rest of it is.  I simply tapped my temple and said, “In here. Locked safely away until next time”.  She was mad at me.  Until I promised her the first signed copy.

She will be getting the very first signed copy.

I’m on the hunt for an editor.  Someone majoring in English Lit at a local college will suffice as long as there is the understanding that I can only pay in coffee or use of my culinary skills.

Yes, I have skills.  Guys like girls with skills.

What Is Love? Pt. 2

My boyfriend and I had the following conversation last night:

I’ve spent most of today thinking about what love means to me. I’ve come to believe love is circular in many ways. Think about it for a moment…

A wedding band is a never ending circle demonstrating the emotional bond between two people. Love is two hearts sharing a single beat. Does your heart skip a beat when you look at your significant other? Mine does. Perhaps it’s my heartbeat syncing with his as I fall in love.

Love can be symbolized in many ways. It is often seen in the form of a heart. When love, we’re supposed to love with all our heart, right? The symbolism of the heart equating to love began in the 15th century. It’s a great way to write love. Red roses also represent love.

For me, after much thought, love is more of a demonstration rather than the verbal or written word. My boyfriend shows me his love (maybe I shouldn’t use that word just yet in regards to him yet) by doing little things for me. He holds my hand when we walk through a store or at the movies. He holds me when I need to be held, without even saying a word. He came to see me this past weekend after the horrible week I had. I didn’t ask him to but he knew I needed to feel how much he genuinely cares for me.

He’s filled my gas tank on more than one occasion. That demonstrated so much of how he feels about me. Case in point – I drove nearly everywhere and my ex never once offered to pay for gas. Not even for the 45 minute one way drive to pick up his ex-stepdaughter. Sad.

Gifts from the heart are great for birthdays, anniversaries, and Christmas but they don’t truly symbolize what love is. Material goods are not a replacement for real love.

Actions speak louder than words. The same goes for love. Anyone can say the words. They’re just words. Do they have meaning? Yes. When said at the right time and in the right context, those three little words have a powerful impact on its recipient.

Love is a very strong emotion. It is possible to love unconditionally. I mean more than just your child.

Love is the ability to give all of yourself, every fiber of your being to another person. It is the internal swelling of your heart when you look at him. It is in the way you kiss – kissing him like you miss him, even when he was simply in the next room. It’s resting your head on his shoulder and holding his hand while watching television.

It is communication. It is finding the words to lift each other up, especially during arguments. It is being supportive during hard times. It is finding the time to just be imperfect together. Nobody is perfect.

Love is a learning process.

It is the process of two hearts becoming one.

Two Types of Men

Actually, I have three classifications for the male species – boys, guys, and men.

Oh little boys and their games! Very few males have integrity. Those who do, are definitely not in this category. Boys have an agenda. It may not be prevalent at first, but it does come out eventually.

C’mon, ladies… you all know the agenda I’m referring to.

The SEX agenda.

Boys, don’t get me wrong. I’m sure I like sex as much as Jenna Jameson. However, it’s not a priority. Relationships based upon sex never last. Been there, done that, cupcake. If you’re with someone but still looking around the forest, you’ve missed the rose.

I recently met someone on a social media platform. In order for someone to be real to me, I have to talk to you on the phone. Pictures mean nothing. I digress.

With this boy and our conversations, something was amiss. I questioned everything he said. He said he was in the military. His uniform didn’t look right. I had my friends who actually are in the service, verify the inaccuracies. I asked him to take a specific photo for me, at the suggestion of some police family members. He refused and his response was “I’m the man in this relationship. I don’t have to obey you.” No way. I will not allow anyone to talk to me like that. It’s very disrespectful!

I continued to talk to him because I wanted to find the truth in his bullshit.

I asked him repeatedly to call me. The excuses came. They were consistent excuses but lies nonetheless. According to the story, he dropped his phone and the microphone was broken. He needed $300 to fix it. He didn’t ask me for the money. I feel sorry for whomever he did ask. Yesterday, he called me through Facebook Messenger. That phone call was very short.

I have a very low tolerance for lies from boys.

He prefaced his call with “I have an accent. You know I’m not Caucasian, right?”

I’m sorry but if you’re born in the United States, especially if you say you’re from Nebraska, I expect you to have a midwestern accent.

The boy sounded black and from Africa! There was no way this was him:

If anyone who reads this knows who this picture really belongs to, please let me know! The person who sent me this picture isn’t the person who called me. HUGE DIFFERENCE!

My final, parting words to this boy were as follows:

1) you told me your dad was Mexican and your mom “American”. If you had been born in the States with that heritage, you would NEVER say someone is Caucasian. That person is “white”. 2) I asked you a few times not to call me “babe” or “baby”. You have continued to do so. 3) I have spent the last 20 years investigating military scammers.

Ok, so that last part about being an investigator I made up. I was pissed that he thought I was naive and gullible! I’m a woman. Women can smell that funk a mile away.

Now, onto Guys. The male species is placed here until they have been proven they belong in one of the other categories. We are most definitely friends in this conjunction.

Men… oh my! Men blow my mind! Real men, that is.

I went on a date Saturday night. I was floored. Sammy can tell you that’s hard to do and he’s never seen it in the 15+ years he’s known me.

He greeted me with a hug. He let me order in Spanish without making fun of me. He held the door open for me. He held my hand. We talked about so many things! Completely respectful! He did steal a kiss too. Okay, maybe a lot of kisses! I’m not complaining! It was one of the best nights I’ve had in over 10 years. There wasn’t even long stares at a cellphone. I was able to look into his eyes and see his smile for me. Everything about him was genuine and respectful. Nothing was off limits for conversation topics and we did talk about sex. It was not a priority conversation though.

I don’t keep secrets very well. My parents know everything. When I saw them after this date, I flat out said “I haven’t been on a date with a real man in a very long time.” They could see I was a bit shaken by that concept. Real men do still exist.

My heart was melting. The Ice Queen was thawing. I would love nothing more than to see him again.

I’m still in a state of awe. I have nothing but respect for men like him. There were no pretenses, pressure, or games. Raw honesty. No hidden agenda. Real men don’t waste time playing games. I was comfortable with him.

These are just my general opinions.

**Side note: I love our military. I support the military. It breaks my heart to see someone use the military as a cover for scamming innocent people. Our service members do something that many of us don’t even think about – they are willing to die for every American. I pray daily that God keeps the men and women of our Armed Forces safe and bring them home quickly. Love to you all!

Toxicity and Boundaries

Today’s sermon at church was a really hard one for me to hear.

For many years, I had no boundaries. I had no morals, scruples, or standards. I was in my twenties, a time when I was meant to be free yet not allowed to make mistakes. I had no idea what life was supposed to be or how to even live it. I had bound myself to the whims of others. I molded myself into what I believed others wanted me to be. I had no clue how to be myself. I hadn’t the slightest as to who I was. Only what others required of me without asking about me.

This is some treacherous territory for me.

It was only a few years ago that I truly realized who I was. I had fought for several years to establish my own identity. I knew exactly who I was and where I was headed. I was strong. I was independent (to a degree). I was fearless.

While I knew I could not conquer the world on my own, I knew I didn’t want to be alone. God didn’t create just Adam; He brought Eve into the world, straight out of the side. I knew I was not meant to be without someone. I went in a few dates, made a very small handful of friends, then set forth on a relationship.

The roses smelled so sweet in the beginning. I had few established boundaries. I knew what I would or wouldn’t do. I had no expectations of someone else. Perhaps I should have though. It may have saved me from a lot of heartache.

Hindsight is 20/20.

Subtlety is a cruel animal. It blinds us to the natural erosion of time. I did not wake up one morning and say, “whoa! When did this happen?” No, it happened over time. Very slowly and gradually.

I allowed myself to become molded into what someone else wanted.

I was the newborn butterfly returned to its cocoon. I was no longer free to fly. No longer allowed to be what had been attracted to in the first place.

Others saw it before I did. Again, hindsight is perfection at its finest. I never saw it until I availed myself the opportunity to step outside of my environment. I, Mia, had slowly eroded my joy of self-establishment. Who was I? What had I allowed to happen that I lost my identity? I did not recognize the person in the mirror staring back at me.

Like the path a flowing river creates, the tides of my personality had ebbed.

What few boundaries I had were gone. My toxicity levels were high. I began to search for the root of my bane existence. Existence. That was it in a nutshell. I existed. I was not living. I was not surviving. I was not thriving. I was simply existing. I was not even present in the moments of time.

My life, in its lackluster essence, was toxic.

Was it me directly? Was it the people around me? Was it my job that I supposedly loved? Was it my day-to-day routine?

What was the base element of the poison that adhered to my disposition, thus creating a deplorable shell of self?

I had allowed poison into my life. A person who was toxic within themselves. My personal boundaries had withered away and were replaced. Granted, the new boundaries were a higher set of moral standards, they should never have been set to replace my personality and who I was. Instead, the new boundaries should have been imposed gradually so as to not destroy the butterfly inside the cocoon!

With the toxicity safely removed, I am emerging once again. I still have no expectations of others, as we are all human and prone to failures of sorts. However, the standards and boundaries I have set for myself have changed. Never again will I allow a poisonous element eradicate or alter who I know I am to be.

I know what I will allow. I know what I will not accept.

Remove the toxic elements and set your boundaries. You are in control of your happiness.