Joy

…is an inside job. Its something I knew I wouldn’t find joy from a job, a man, a new country, or really even with financial gain. I knew joy was an inside job and that it required work.

Work work work work work (cues Rhianna).

But seriously, nothing good comes to us without some work. Sure, there are instances where an opportunity come, but we have to do the work on maintaining a blessing that has seemingly “dropped” in our laps.

So, for the past few…years, really, I’ve been doing work. Work on my self esteem, work on my relationships with God, work with my mindset when it comes to obstacles and entitlement, work with my need to be accepted and acknowledged by men, by my friends, by my family.

The work I have done is leading me into a new freedom. Free from the opinions of others, I am discovering that my Joy simply comes from the Lord. Knowing that I am completely utterly and unconditionally loved and accepted by God NO MATTER WHAT has been the key to my joy and my hope and my freedom. I recognize that He is number one. He is most important and because I am human and I will fail, His grace is the best gift that never stops giving.

I can smile in the midst of defeat. I can laugh in the stead of failure. I can shift when I feel stuck because he gives me joy…that passes beyond all comprehension. Its amazing, its fulfilling, and its free. I didn’t earn it. I don’t deserve it. I can’t repay it. And it will never be taken away from me. Incredible love. Incredible joy.

Queer concepts

I copied and pasted an email from a friend. She sent me a website with videos about intersectionality: race, gender, identity.

The link: https://www.colorlines.com/articles/our-new-video-series-raceand-captures-essence-intersectionality

(I almost didn’t post the link, because I’m not sure where I stand. But, knowledge is power. And exposure takes away excuses…for me…and for you).

“I didn’t watch every video. I watched the first and last and a bit of the second one. I just couldn’t really engage with the LGBT struggle. I definitely want to think more about this. I don’t know how to engage.

I think deeply, identity is being attacked. God created…and then man/the enemy distorted. I also believe culture pushed people to be so outrageous. You can’t be a woman who sees the beauty in another woman. You like women. You’re gay. You can’t be a feminine man who likes fashion. You dress up. You’re a drag queen. It may be small minded but I believe that there is a place for everyone and this agenda is so STRONG it IS overshadowing race and “gender”. And if you can choose your gender, how is gender an issue? I’ll just be a man if I don’t want to be oppressed? Or if I feel more masculine? I don’t get it.

Here are my notes:

misgendering – how can we know what gender someone is now that you can choose? We have to go off appearance and voice…and that can be confusing. No one can confuse my blackness. Ever.

“Race informs the other parts of me.” I agree.

I am a woman who…is also…   I agree.

My thoughts, I’m almost “white” but I’m brown. I mean my education, my social-economic status to some degree, my profession, my dialect, my socializing, my ability to travel, my experiences and opportunities. Sometimes that excludes me from what some paint as “blackness”. I didn’t grow up in the hood, I don’t always understand rap music, I don’t like “rachet” tv (well I do sometimes). A lot of that is also my religion. I’m Christian. And some say “a white man’s” religion. I have to shed all these identities and just be a child of God, knowing that others create boxes for me. And I’ll bust through them MUGS like Mario Kart bustin ice on the track.  Shout out to the 90s/2000s babies.

Intersectionality- heavy stuff.

Race no longer matters. We got all we were going to get during Civil Rights. We can’t fight everything at once, but we must choose and start somewhere.

I’ll always want people saved and to know Jesus Christ.

I will want women empowered.

I want brown and black people treated with dignity and respect.

I want money and education to be equal access, hard work opening more and more doors.

And I want people to love beyond all else.

Even when we don’t understand one another, can we please love?

That, we know, we all need.

#blogpost”

I didn’t proofread. #workflow

#letsengage

I love a guy.

You know the saying about love?

Our first love is young. 

Our second love is hard. 

Our third love we don’t see coming. 

I guess I’m in between love one and two. But I still love a guy. What’s funny is, I’m 99.8% sure that we won’t be together and we may not remain friends. And it has taken a year to come to terms with that, but I think I’m finding comfort in knowing that that is probably healthy and best.

I still write about him. I still think about him. And most days, I’m not sure if I am in love with him. Or I simply possess a deep love FOR him. Our ability to differentiate the two is imperative. Love is unconditional. It keeps no record of wrong. It is humble and selfless and to quite honest it is uncomfortable and unnatural. Most people give conditional though. Though the conditions may be broad, when pushed to the limit, a limit is found.

This idea of unconditional love bothers me. Let me rephrase, its agitates my normal behavior. You make me sad, I love you less. You disrespect me, you get boundaries of my love. I know, there seems to be nothing wrong with that, but if love isn’t free…is it love? Whats the price of love? A ring? A wedding? A child? Can it ever be paid for?

I love a man. And he may not even love me back. And that makes me even more confident about my love for him. He’s made me sad. He’s offended me. Never disrespect, never intentional harm, never unapologetic. And I love him.

Some days I feel like proclaiming this love, because it is evidence that divorce and heartbreak, and failed relationships did not crush me. They didn’t steal my capacity to love and to give without expectation. And that is a miracle. That’s evidence of the God I serve. One who can heal and transform and restore.

Back to love. Family. I love them unconditionally. Friends…my friends. I love them unconditionally and even the healthy boundaries I establish for them are not barriers to my love.

My students. I love them unconditionally. And they need that love. They need to feel and see that love. They need to know that that love is…real love. So as they grow and experience life, they can be prepared to give and receive the love that covers all.

I still love a guy.

 

Cramping so you know it’s real

I said I’d post daily and it’s 1am, so I’ve already failed. Let’s technically call this yesterday’s post.

Monday I felt like a mad woman and I knew “aunt flow” was coming. My emotions, hormones, attitude, and “feelings” were high. Today it was confirmed that I’m not crazy, I’m just a woman.

“Just a woman”. Ha! Oxymoron. This evening I cried. My laptop almost died while I was on an online interview after my laptop mouse failed to work properly and I … I remembered that I’m single and no one could sneak me my charger. I have friends and “people”. I have help and support. Yet, at that moment the reality of my singleness stung. I almost cried into the screen.

I hadn’t planned to be 30, divorced, and single. There was a time when I was 24, married, and hopeful. Then I was 25, married, and alone. That shift happened quickly and tonight I cried. I mourned my marriage. My heart broke again for the loss of a husband, once a friend. I retold and reread my story again. And say with the reality that I was always have “been married”. I’d love to be a big person and say I’m thankful for the lessons marriage taught me but so much of it was hard and sad and draining that  I can only really say, dating was fun and my marriage was supposed to be a good thing.

I don’t assign too much blame. I played a role, he played a role. One of us is a husband, a father…

One of us is single and healing…

Maybe both of us are free.

Podcast: https://anchor.fm/cassandra-bruington/episodes/Division-of-a-marriage-e1h7sn

 

 

 

 

 

Like share grow

If you like this blog, share it, comment, and let me know what topics “speak to you”.  I’m a communicator. I love to talk. I’m working on listening. This blog is my voice. I share freely, openly because I talk to an audience of unknown. Thats not to be confused with unimportant. This space is beautiful and I appreciate the web and WordPress. Its amazing to be able to share and express and be heard. By someone…somewhere…unknown.

So, I’m committed to talking to you daily. It will be short. It will be random. But I hope you will like and share…

 

then grow.

I’m crying.

Will.

Did I tell y’all I don’t do that often. So when I do. When I start to cry, I take time to feel that emotion that caused me to break through my stone wall of guardedness to the point of tears.

I need a minute.

I could see why you didn’t or wouldn’t have respected me 10 months ago. When we first met, how we met. Who I was when we met. I was me, but a different shade of me. So I could see how you could think this treatment was acceptable then.

But we’ve spent time together. You know me. I know you. I shared me. You shared you. I thought I feel in love. Enough to demand distance. To be hurt by the distance I demanded. To second guess my decision to put me first and cover myself and protect my heart. The one thats patched up from the pass. So its just not okay for me to be treated this way. Will, you know me. Or I thought you did. And if you know me, enough and this is acceptable to you. This is true to your nature. You’re okay with your behavior then I was wrong. And the worse pain is the kind you realize you initiated.

I have no words. I’m so sad that I can’t get angry. So angry that I’m only really sad. I’m depleted. I’m empty. I’m worn out. And I don’t understand how things can go so South so quickly and so clearly.

But you still follow me on Snapchat. Do you know I can see you watching me on Snapchat. I’m irritated that Snapchat has made it into a very serious very deep very real blog post. I’m crying. And part of it is because you would rather follow me, watch me, admire me, see me from a distance than get close, stay close, be close.

That is some bull shit. And I hate to cuss in a post. I just can’t identify if its me or if its you. No, its absolutely you. But if I thought I loved you, then its also completely me. So now I’m over here sad. Do I delete, block, ignore, agress, assert, retreat, suppress.

He is showing you. Believe him.

Stop having access to me and not being accessible to me. I’ll control that.

I cried and showered. Seems appropriate. Now I’m listening to worship music. This is the only way I get empty and full at the same time. Its an hour past my bedtime and I just want to cry more. Feel more. Lean in and on God even more.

I’m not mad anymore. I’m still sad. But that will pass. I was supposed to grade papers and uber-plan for tomorrow. Plans are done. Grading is not. Its okay. I need this time. This is necessary. I deserve to feel this. To feel and then to be over it.

This thing happened. And I realize that I am just really tired of settling. And I’m uncomfortable giving my energy in empty places that cannot reciprocate. I want to forgive and let go and then not repeat the pattern of prostituting my gifts, and my calling, and my encouragement and my love. I am not cheap. Nothing about me is inexpensive. I’m costly. And that’s okay.

I need a top 5. Pourers who pour in. And they need to be real people.

The pourer-intoers are never lacking. I’ll be choosy this time.