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.

Advertisements

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

Notarized.

I paused a Netflix movie to post this. So…you know its real.

Today, I scrambled to get documents notarized for my Work Visa. I’m about to leave the US in a matter of months to pursue a job abroad. I will be teaching 4th grade all subjects in Costa Rica! Excited is an understatement. I didn’t realize how much paperwork signing/applying/verifying would be required. I still don’t even understand if I sent everything perfectly. And being born abroad doesn’t make the process any simpler. Its confusing and annoying and very systematic even though no human being can explain the process considering my rare circumstances.

The notary at the bank (my shared branch because I still bank with an out of state credit union) did all my paperwork for free. He didn’t have to, but I am so appreciative. I saved $25. Then spent $20 for a document I forgot to have notarized by him and later paid for at a postal store that probably overcharged me.

Anyways…I sat at his desk and remembered the last time I had paperwork notarized at a bank. It was January of 2014. Divorce papers. I cried as I signed each page. I had gotten there at 4:59pm, right before closing after my ex kept asking when I would sign. He left me January 4th and the papers had January 10th on them. This had to be mid January. It was heartbreaking and I’m sure super awkward for the notary (a woman who kept her composure). I cried loud and deeply as I signed all thousand lines requiring my signature. I felt defeated. I was a little embarrassed. Not that I was crying- I needed that. I was embarrassed that my marriage had failed and this document was the proof.

So…as I sat in the office today. I almost cried again. Just in remembrance. Of a marriage I mourned and laid to rest. Divorce is a tragedy. I survived a tragedy. I overcame and rose above a tragedy. And 3 years later, I signed documents which I’d like to refer to as freedom papers. I’m leaving the US. I’m leaving (dis)comfort. I’m leaving what has been familiar. And I am so excited that now I understand the foreshadowing. At a bank alone. In an office with a stranger. Making a life changing written declaration. My life is changing.

I can never ever say I won’t survive. Or things won’t get better. Or I may not make it. Those statements are simply untrue. I will rise. I have been Notarized.

https://www.thebalance.com/what-is-a-notarized-document-315434

A notarized document is a document that has been marked with a stamp (or “seal”), which indicates that the signature on the document is legitimate. A notary watches you sign and then places the stamp near your signature (along with information which allows others to track down records related to the signature).

Why I keep falling in love with guys that CANNOT love me back

I’m ill. Not based on the title. Based on the message.

I literally couldn’t get out of my shower quick enough. Minus the cheap black soap that I’m not sure does the trick…this topic, these words, this concept was bugging me out of the waterfall I call “shower”.

Its a topic and title I couldn’t not write. I couldn’t not post. And I cannot not share. Hello, my name is Cassandra and I am a recovering fallinloveaholic. I almost gave first middle and last name, so you know its real. But that would have been extra and if you’re that interested in finding out my first middle and last name, I’m sure Google will be happy to assist you. Or facebook. Or they led you here and you already know it.

I’m rushing to tap this. Because its irritating to meditate on and I’m on the floor in an apartment I’ve tried cleaning since 530pm. For an event I’m hosting tomorrow at 630pm. Also I’m supposed to leave the house in 25 minutes for girl time I’ve been craving for like two weeks. This. Is. Life.

Okay, here goes. I fall in love with guys that cannot love me back. And its sad and I’m over it. And here, pretty soon…like with the next guy I could potential love that will not love me back (because he can’t), I’m going to choose  not to fall in love with him. I’m utterly over it.

I’m high school sweethoe…I mean sweetheart over it. He wasn’t a hoe, I just still don’t like him. Oh, and we weren’t in love. I just “fell in love” with him.

I’m junior year love of my life over it. I’m summer crush turned bae before bae was a thing over it. I’m college boyfriend, college crush, college safe crush who liked me back, college boo who never was boo, and I’m ex-husband who I didn’t even know didn’t love me back

O

VER

IT.

Oh there’s more. I’m post-divorce bad decisions to even entertain the idea of you over it. I’m Tinder over it. I’m church crush over it. I’m Tinder turned friend but you still ain’t ready OVER ALL OF IT.

Its exhausting to love someone and two wives, 5 kids, 12 years, 1.5 billion opportunities to get it right and be ready but you still ain’t right nor ready realize HE AINT NEVA GON GET READY.

I could scream. For 13 year old me, and 15 year old me, and 17-29 year old me. Girl, let’s stop the foolishness.

When you know good and darn well he cannot love you, let him.

Let him not love you from a distance. Let him not call. Let him not check on you. Let him not be that into you. Let his girlfriend come first. His wife come first. His kids come first. Let his homies come first. Let it go, Elsa!

Sheesh…and I’m realizing the problem is me. I am impatient. And that’s a shame that I would be so impatient that I would love a man who cheats, who pressures me to have sex, who lies about how God told him…some stuff God ain’t told him. So impatient that I’d entertain a disgusting dude (forget a bad boy- I went BIG), entertain a scared boy disguised as a wealthy and confident man, that I’d go on dates with dudes who I found to be a 7 on a 10 scale (when I feel like I’m a 10 on a 10 scale). I’m not desperate or insane, blind or suffering from low self-esteem. I am impatient. And because I’m also Christian that means I don’t trust God’s timing. I’m uninterested in His timeline because I have deadlines.

Married by…23 I think it was. Now I’m divorced. Yeah, that was basically my only age deadline…that mess is enough to stop you in your tracks and make you burn every DEADline you ever thought you had.

I’m learning to dream again, to set ambitious goals, to live my life without apologies or permission-asking. I’m grown, I pay whole bills. I have whole debt that I’m working my way out of. I ask for advice from SOME. Permission from one, “God, is it okay if I…”. And I only ask sometimes when I don’t already have a plan. I’m working on that.

But one thing is crystal clear to me. I am SO OVER falling in love with guys who cannot love me. Its stupid. I know why I do it. And thats stupid too. I’d rather be in love WITH someone then FALL in love with them. So, the next guy I want to save at the expense of spending myself, I totally WILL NOT. And y’all can check me on that.

Final thought: falling in love…(which doesn’t even feel THAT good- okay I lied, it feels amazing) is like I was going to reference throwing up, but in an attempt not to offend or gross anyone out I will refrain. Its just like making yourself do something that isn’t good for you. That your natural body is eventually going to reject. Something that smells and looks nasty. Something you’ll regret…especially if you prefer standing over falling.

I’m well.