I understand feeling as small and as insignificant as humanly possible, and how it can actually ache in places you didn’t know you had inside you. And it doesn’t matter how many new haircuts you get, or gyms you join, or how many glasses of wine you drink with your friends…you still go to bed every night going over every detail and wondering what you did wrong or how you could have misunderstood. And how in the hell for that brief moment you could think that you were that happy. And sometimes you can even convince yourself that he’ll see the light and show up at your door. And after all that, however long all that may be, you’ll go somewhere new. And you’ll meet people who make you feel worthwhile again. And little pieces of your soul will finally come back. And all that fuzzy stuff, those years of your life that you wasted, that will eventually begin to fade.
I hate to refer to anyone as a hater, specifically when speaking on myself. I don’t think that I’m doing anything of major importance in my life that would make someone hate on me or hate me. But there is nothing worse than sharing some exciting news with someone who is supposed to be on your team, only for them to give you a dry ass “oh congratulations”. Like really? Just tell me that you don’t give a damn and I will completely stop sharing with you, I promise. It has taken me sooooo long to not give a damn about what other people think or feel when it pertains to me. And I can’t even lie and act like I’m not bothered by negativity…when I know about it. It’s that kind of lame reaction that causes me to shutdown and stay to myself more. But here I am trying to be a better version of me. Trying to excel an LIVE instead of just existing. Trying to BE who Monica is wants to be instead of just thinking about all the changes I want to make and doing nothing about it. Hmm. Even as I write this, I can’t even be mad. I just see what it is now and understand how to handle you moving forward. You’ll notice it before I will.
I’m happy to report that I am well on my way to finding my happy place. I literally have nothing to complain about or anything specific that is bothering me. I guess that’s partly why I’ve been so quiet lately. I feel like if I continue to give energy to people and situations that make me uncomfortable, I will become engulfed in emotions that I simply no longer want to deal with. It took a minute, but I’ve finally learned to say “okay” and be just that…okay. I’ve stopped talking to a few people, some who might even read this blog and realize that I am specifically speaking to them when I say:
Eventually, you pushed me away and I learned to do the same. I was available to you at your convenience and nothing more. The more I thought about holding on to good memories, the more I realized how few and far between they had become. It was then that I learned to glow without you and glowed up.
Sometimes you just have to say “okay” and be done with it. Give it no more thought or energy, just move the hell on. I’ll continue to move around in silence until my circle feels like it’s where it needs to be. I know I’m growing into a better woman, and I have to be certain that the people around me inspire me to be greater and better, not feel like I have to prove my worth. I already know that.
Welp, I tried not to be typical and say the same basic thing I say every year about losing weight as a new year resolution, but I’m seriously over the chunk. I don’t want to be Chunky Moe anymore, I need the chunk gone ASAP.
I wonder how many people have been following me long enough to remember when I was known as ChunkyMoe?
Since last summer I slowly started gaining weight again. I barely eat and yet I’ve been gaining weight since mid July. I thought it might had had something to do with my Mirena birth control because I was experiencing some other side effects that only started shortly after having it placed, so I brushed it off. I was also taking an anxiety medication that definitely was making me hungrier than normal, and I found myself always craving candy. It was until Facetiming with people became uncomfortable because they would notice the change in the shape of my face becoming rounder, my cheeks filling out. Ugh!!
Day One of the new year I actually worked out at home. Do you know that was the only day in the past 8 that I worked out? I literally have done nothing since. But after a recent doctors appointment and stepping on the dreadful scale, I found out I had gained yet another 8 pounds in the past 3 weeks. WTF?!?!
I’m putting the snacks away, not buying anymore candy, ridding my purse of the two boxes of Mike & Ike’s, and resetting my life…again. There is no time like the present right? I should do something today that my future less chunkier self will thank me for. I love eating but I must learn to do so in moderation and stop snacking so damn much. If I ate a full meal when I’m supposed to, I wouldn’t be hungry all day. So the plan at the moment is to do the Pouch Test to reset my stomach. Lord help me…seriously! This test lasts is only 5 days, but the first two are going to be the hardest. I imagine this is the best time to do it also because I have a dental appointment Thursday afternoon and surely won’t be pigging out after that.
The Pouch Test is truly geared for Bariatric Patients, but I think it’s a great way to reset your body and cleanse before diving into healthier eating habits, so anybody should be able to try this one out.
I’m also going to be utilizing an app called Baritastic to keep track of what I should be doing and to monitor my progress. There’s something about using a mobile app sometimes that keeps me motivated and I like this one because you can set reminders of when to eat, drink, take vitamins, and so much more. It’s not so much about just losing the weight, it’s holding myself accountable for the decisions I make and going after what I want to change in my life health-wise.
My biggest lesson from 2017 is that I MATTER. From my thoughts, to my feelings, to my career, to my love life, to my friendships, to my family…I MATTER. That’s definitely not say that nobody else does, but merely that it okay to be selfish about my needs before fulfilling the needs of others. I have a voice and I matter. If you’ve been reading for a while, you’ll know that I’ve often struggled with feeling like I was enough or that I was heard. It’s crazy to me that every time that I realize that I’m feeling inadequate, I am reminded of a conversation I had literally 20 years ago with my sons dad. I was venting to him about not being heard by my mom and how I felt like I could do nothing or say anything right. That no matter what I did to express myself I always felt like it was the wrong thing to say, so I would just shut down and stop talking. He told me that I often do that with him. That I sit quietly staring into space and when he asks “What”s wrong?”, I always say “Nothing”, even though my facial expression changes dramatically when I’m bottling my thoughts. All I could do was sit in silence, and cry, because I knew he was telling the truth. And then he said it…“You’re a coward. Use your voice and say what the fuck you feel and stop being a coward!”
I can admit, the 16 year old in my almost hung up on him, but it registered. And after focusing less on being called a coward, I focused more on the definition: a person who lacks the courage to do or endure dangerous or unpleasant things. He had me there. While I love a good argument, I am oddly uncomfortable with doing unpleasant things…like speaking my mind. Why is it that speaking my mind has become unpleasant? For lack of a better reason, it’s simply being misunderstood, or having your words be taken out of context. I hate when I make a statement, and then someone asks me to explain. *insert rolling of the eyes* I can’t imagine the situations that I could have avoided if I simply spoken up instead of being concerned with how it would be interpreted. And not every opinion has to turn into an argument, but I guess I was always afraid that it would go left at a time when I didn’t want to be countered with “Explain“.
So as my mother would say in her condescending I told you so voice: “What did you learn?” – I learned that I matter and that I refuse to allow another year of my life pass me by being a coward to myself. To some this whole coward thing could be taken lightly because while there is a lot that I don’t say, when I do speak up I’m very direct, blunt and straight forward. Which in turn comes off as abrasive or mistaken as mean. But I can’t be afraid to speak up anymore, regardless of how anyone else feels about it. I have to live in my own truth in order to move forward the right way. Sorry not sorry…because I MATTER.
I had no solid plan for tonight. No specific person I wanted to be in the company of. No beautiful hair and beat face to apply. I literally just wanted to relax. Catching a cold last minute has helped plant me firmly on my sofa with no destination in sight. It’s not the first new years eve that I’ve spent alone, but I’m determined to make it my last. I just want my person. The person that I share my ups and downs with, celebrate new beginnings with, smother with love and shower with kisses. I miss belonging to someone. “This is my girl Monica”. I haven’t heard those words in over a year. And I haven’t had a significant other specifically on new years eve in so long that I actually typed it and deleted it because I realized it’s been THAT long. I don’t want to be alone anymore. There are a few people who have hit me up recently that don’t even realize they will never hear from me again. I wish them no ill will, but they add no value to the woman I am trying to be, so they can’t sit in my section anymore. This section is mine and it’s officially being roped off.
I hate cliché statements like “This is my year!” “New Year, New Me!” because most of the time, we say these things, switch up for all of 3 weeks then be right back to doing the same shit we did all last year and the year before. My changes for the new year are more so continuations from changes I’ve been making before the new year. And I plan to accomplish these goals in no particular order.
- Learn to love myself again.
- Lose more weight.
- Be active and exercise again.
- Stop eating meat! Bacon included.
- Date. Date. Date.
- Fall in love.
- Have a baby.
- Become a manager.
- Boss up Monica Made It.
- Start selling products on The Honey Boom.
- Either buy a house or rent a really nice one.
- Teach my son how to drive.
- Build my savings account and not touch it, ever.
- Find my happy place.
- Live in my truth.
There’s nothing more important than the last one on the list because to me to “BE” is to be all that you want to be. To have everything that your heart desires, that your mind can dream, to flourish in positivity and realize that you can have it all. To know your worth, your value and to share that energy with the right people. To surround yourself with greatness so that their good can become your good. To never quit, even when it feels like it will never be, trust the process. Trust the fucking process! And know that your process is just that…YOURS. It doesn’t have to look or feel like anyone else’s to be possible. Nobody can dim your light. You’ve got this, we’ve got this, I’ve got this! Fuck what they say, I’m doing me.
I stopped celebrating Christmas 2 years ago. I mean, I will still accept gifts, and even give them. But I’m not putting up a tree, buying decorations, or breaking out the dancing Santa anytime soon. Someone stole my Christmas joy 2 years ago with what I now feel is the truth about this holiday, in case you’re curious, click here. Don’t blame me, I’m just sharing what was shared with me. Anyway, so no Christmas in the ______ household. I instead opted to enjoy time with my son, mom and sister yesterday instead of today. We had a pretty awesome time playing Watch Ya Mouth and eating my infamous seafood gumbo…from scratch I might add. Sorry folks, I can’t share that recipe. It’s too good and too sacred. (LOL) Today, Kimoni and I simply vegged out on the couch and watched movies while he waited for his PS4 to update. Yes, the kid still got gifts. But I didn’t wrap them, does that account for something?
It’s crazy though that now that he’s off in his room doing him, I sit at my desk listening to music feeling myself get sadder and sadder by the minute. So much so that I’ve turned it off and am about to go in my own room and lay down for a bit. I think I’m sad because the one person who I expected to call today, didn’t. And a conversation I had last night with a friend about entertaining people who are not right for me is resonating hard. We have to stop giving so much time, energy and expectation to people who converse with you only when it’s convenient for them. It’s so heartbreaking. But who do we blame, them for doing it or ourselves for allowing it?
God gave you what you could handle. I got the grip like the handle and I’m biking…solo.
I actually managed to have a productive weekend. Despite feeling frayed and confused right now. I spent some time with my son Saturday shopping for sneakers. Not as simple as it sounds considering that Kimoni is 15 and wears a size 13 shoe. We ended up visiting 4 shoe stores before he finally found some Adidas classic’s that he really liked, and that didn’t make his feet look huge. I even ended up buying my first pair are extremely expensive, yet comfortable Adidas. It’s kind of liberating spending money you earned when all of your bills are paid.
Additionally, I ended up getting 2 tattoos Saturday night: a bed of roses on my right arm (half sleeve) and a K on my chest. It was for Kimoni who’s name I didn’t want written out on my body, I have had enough names. So I opted for the simplicity of the K.
Now I sit here at 6:00am, just got off work, and I am more than ready to get in my bed. But I had to let this go before I end my day. All night I’ve been super agitated. For no apparent reason other than I’m completely tired of biking solo every weekend. I had so much I wanted to talk about today and nobody to talk to. Before I knew it I became frustrated and found myself on the verge of tears. I’m so afraid that this is it. That all my life will ever consist of is me working, taking care of Kimoni and sleeping. I want so much more. I NEED so much more. And most evident, I need someone to share it with. It’s been over a year since someone other than a relative told me they loved me. That’s not a good feeling when you’re an emotional unstable creature. I crave love & companionship, the way that Winnie the Pooh craves honey. (That’s serious ain’t it?)
I’m really tired of biking solo…I need a rider.
I’m okay with being vulnerable now. I have to tell myself that to even be able to write this right now. When I first started blogging, approximately 16 years ago (yes, that long ago), I was so open with my posts. I told way too much to way too many people who had no interest in the well being of me. They were here to be amused. Rather or not that laughed with me or at me, they were here. This tiny pixel on the internet allowed me to be free to say what I wanted and not have to answer to anybody about how I felt. I grew up in this space. When I decided to relaunch my blog, I honestly didn’t even care if I had an audience. I’m writing for me, because it feels like it’s right. I’ve been away from the keyboard so long, and solely dedicated my time to create safe spaces for other people, that I forgot about why I started blogging in the first place. Back then we called it an online journal, way before a blog was a blog and blogger was just that, a blogger. Way before people got paid for this. I’m still not sure if I want to bother with adspace and such, I’m just here to ramble. To get things out of my big ass head. To breathe.
In the past 2 years I have met over 200 new “friends”, and many of them don’t even know my real name. I’ve kept quiet and dealt with my trials and tribulations all by myself. Well, not really, but just amongst the people who I felt cared enough to actually know the real me. I struggled in one of the worst relationships I have ever been in where I literally lost myself chasing behind a fuckboy. A real life fuckboy. Yes, they do exist. I became weak, a follower following behind a boy pretending to be a man all while forgetting that I was the prize. That it was me that added value to him and not the other way around. I forgot about how hard I had worked to be able to stand proud as the woman and mother that I was, that I allowed myself to become timid and unsubstantial. I found out my womb was being attacked by fibroids and Uterine Cancer. I became depressed, suicidal, became a cutter. Sliced my arm up so much I was wearing jackets in the house to hide it. I turned to alcohol and pills to ignore what I was feeling and the only time I felt peace was when I was asleep, alone. I literally drank every single day. Vodka…straight. I experimented with pills to see which one made me sleep the hardest, then doubled the dosage. Did I really want to die? Probably not, but I certainly didn’t want to hear or feel anything. I wanted to be numb to everything. And I couldn’t. Remember Kimoni? Imagine the devastation my loss of life would cause the the ones who actually do love me. Fuck the ones who don’t, focus on those that do. Focus on those that need me even though I don’t want to be needed. A life would end, and shatter at least 50 more in the process. See why this is therapeutic for me now?
Find a corner, and write. Find your beat within and let it out.
Now that I’m back at this and planning to stick with it for as long as I can, I want to thank those who’ve commented and reached out to me. I was shocked to see that people actually missed this. Trust me y’all, it gets better. I’ve been MIA from blogging for at least 6 years if not more. If you blog, please comment. I’d love to check out other writers. It’ll also help me to feel like I’m not as alone as the dark parts of my mind like to think I am. 💕
One day, he’s going to know. He’ll know your birthday, your middle name, where you were born, your star sign, and your parents names. He’ll know how old you were when you learned to ride a bike, how your grandparents passed away, how many pets you had, and how much you hated going to school. He’ll know your eye colour, your scars, your freckles, your laugh lines and your birth marks. He’ll know your favourite book, movie, candy, food, pair of shoes, colour, and song. He’s going to know why you’re awake at 5am most nights, where you were when you realised you’d lost a good friend, why you picked up the razor and how you managed to put it down before things went too far. He’s going to know your phobias, your dreams, your fears, your wishes, and your worries. He’s going to know about your first heartbreak, your dream wedding, and your problems with your parents. He’ll know your strengths, weaknesses, laziness, energy, and your mixed emotions. He’s going to know about your love for mayonnaise, your dream of being famous when you were five, your need to quote any film you know all the way through, and your fear of growing older. He’ll know your bad habits, your mannerisms, your stroppy pout, your facial expressions, and your laugh like it’s his favourite song. The way you chew, drink, walk, sleep, fidget and kiss. He’s going to know that you’ve already picked out wedding flowers, baby names, tiles for the bathroom, bridesmaid dresses, and the colour of your bedroom walls. He’s going to know, get annoyed at and then accept that you leave clothes everywhere, take twenty minutes to order a Starbucks, have to organise your DVD’s alphabetically, and check your horoscope… just incase. He’ll know your McDonald’s order, how many sugars to put in your tea, how many scoops of ice cream you want, and that you need your sandwiches cut into triangles. He’s going to know how you feel without you telling him, that you need a wee from a look on your face, and that you’re crying without shedding tears. He’s going to know all of it. Everything. You, from top to bottom and inside out. From learning, from sharing, from listening, from watching. He’s going to know every single thing there is to know, and you know what else?
He is still going to love you.
Lately I’ve found myself on somewhat of a rollercoaster. Nothing is super chaotic, but things just aren’t balanced. I know where I want to be, now I have to convince myself to go for it and stop sleeping on myself. I’ve cut out “friends” that I wasn’t really ready to give up on, but I knew they weren’t adding to my life the way I wanted them to. It’s okay to be a little selfish sometimes right? To want more for yourself is normal…right? I’ve just been doing me. I’m content with that until I figure it all out. I’ll be on some shit right now, for a while, until it feels right. Whatever “it” is. This song, “For A While”, pretty much says it all when I can’t find the words.
PHOTO CREDIT: TDOT ILLDUDE – THE VIBE IS HEAVY 2
The more people disrespect me, the more I learn what I can and cannot tolerate in my life anymore. That’s certainly not an invitation for people to disrespect me, I’m just saying when it happens, it’s not going unnoticed or without a consequential reaction. The old me would lash out, cuss out everyone and as my closest friends will say, “go for your jugular”. The more mature me realizes that I do not have to attend every argument I’m invited to. That’s it’s okay to know that I’m worth more than losing my voice in an argument just to be heard by someone who has already stopped listening. I use to literally stress myself out to the point of being crying mad. I can’t give the energy I’m saving to create a better life for myself to someone or something that could care less if I’m okay or not. It’s simply not worth it. I use to think that was such a cliché thing to say, almost dismissive. But I get it. The more I get tried, the more I get it.
I have to remember that life I’m trying to live will not include everyone who I once called a friend. You know how they say “Everything happens for a reason”, it’s true. All I’ve asked from the universe is to live a life stress and drama free. So when people or thing eliminate themselves I’m actually relieved that I didn’t have to do it and explain why. I’m okay with letting them think it was me, that I was the issue because I know better. No amount of money or likes on social media will ever take precedence over that.