yeah, okay, so maybe i don't want this blog to be my stereotypical black woman waiting for her tall dark and handsome black knight blog. nor do i want it to be my aspiring writer blog. nor do i want it to be my stuff-nobody-cares about blog. but that pretty much is what this is, whether or not i want it to be. sometimes i think of a topic, and think, "didn't i just write about that?" i hate the idea that what i generally have to say could be so easily categorized. it would be nice if this could be the i-can't-wait-to-see-what-new-and-interesting-thing-is-going-on-in-glory's-mind blog, but it can't be that. my life is not full of new and interesting things all the time. i'm not in the mood for political commentary, since i believe that i can blog until i'm blue in the face, but it won't do anything to provide affordable housing and health care and quality education and jobs with living wages and an end to the trade deficit, peace in the middle east, an end of terrorism, racism, sexism, classism and/or any other miscellaneous -ism. i don't intend to be particularly educational, or even have a point at all on some days. this blog just reflects what's happening in my mind when i sit facing a keyboard, challenging myself to have something to say about something that i figure perhaps someone can relate to, or at least get something out of reading.
with that said, let me get into one of my most often revisited topics, cause this is
i am that stereotypical
single black woman
i can't remember a time since i was twelve that it didn't matter to me to some degree whether or not i was attached. that was about the time
i had wisdom
beyond my years.
i wasn't pressed
i was right. "later" came when i was fourteen, and i snuck a "date" with a boy at the library under the guise of research for a school project (as if my mom didn't know what she was really dropping me off for). we walked to the waterfront holding
i am still that girl
i had to leave my first love to go to college. it didn't seem right to stay loyal to a guy who couldn't be found at prom time, who wasn't working or in school, while i was learning about syllabi and credits, paychecks and credit cards, midterms and finals... my first adult relationship, with an older guy, molded me and sustained me through the rest of college. some of my dorm neighbors thought that i was the kind of girl who couldn't be without a man. i find that funny since most of the time i was with my college sweetheart, i was really more alone than i was with him. we loved each other, but most of the time i loved him, we were either on hiatus, or we were in the mild and timid reconciliation phases that followed each hiatus. he had my heart for the first five years of my adult life. in my heart, he was my husband. though the love was intense, i think of that period as one of uncertainty and insecurity, even though i thought that we would ultimately marry.
we didn't. for the right reasons, which i don't regret at all. but there were five years of my life spent monogamously. i stood suddenly liberated, having been loved, but unsure of how to get love again - unsure if i wanted love again. i had never
just the normal
ups and downs
but then, one day i looked up and did the worst thing imaginable. i started to count. i started thinking about how many weddings i've been in. how many
worst thing imaginable -
i started to count.
which brings me to what inspired this blog entry in the first place. as i sat in front of my blank screen, wondering what to write about, my eyes landed on one of the bookshelves, one corner of which has, by chance, become the depository for all things keepsake. there is a picture of me as a bridesmaid with the bride in the last
it's just me now...
i feel that this is an appropriate place for me to remind you all that this is just my blog. these are not the thoughts that dominate my mind throughout the days - i am not preoccupied. i will not be husband hunting. nor will i be gratuitously flirting
i am a longsuffering
i'm okay. but i think i might dismantle my depository of keepsakes, just for good measure.