Beautiful Magic

I love this picture.  I love all the beautiful colors in this butterflies.  I love butterflies. Even more than the picture, I love the message.  EVERY SINGLE WORD.

I think the most beautiful thing about a human being is how flawed we all are to our very core.  We try so hard to be perfect, to be smart, to be beautiful, to try and not make a mistake, yet we don’t realize that our perfection comes from our imperfect flaws. It comes in those things about us that show we are damaged, we are defective, we are weak, and we are vulnerable – yet we keep trying, we keep flapping our wings.  If we go around lying to ourselves that we don’t need anyone, or anything, or any connection in any way - THAT is what makes our flaws our faults.  We are human. We were created as social beings to connect on a physical, intellectual, emotional and spiritual level.  When we deny those connections, we deny our very purpose.  It’s a lie!  When we tell people we don’t want a relationship, we don’t want friendships, we don’t want a soul mate, a partner, a friend, or a lover – we are liars! We were made to connect to God, to the earth, and to each other. We were not born to be isolated, but joined together. Our pain and our fear is what deceives us and convinces us we don’t need anyone else or that we are not good enough, or perfect enough.  Celebrate your flaws – because our flaws show our true colors.  How we respond to failure, to pain, to heartache, to insult, to injury, to the fucking bullshit life throws at us is what truly defines us.  Our flaws make us strong or weak, moral or immoral, filled with love or hate.  We rise and fall because of our flaws.

Another thing that I find beautiful about the human condition is our quirky nature.  Stop being stiff, stop trying to conform and play a part.  YOU ARE NOT what you pretend to be.  No matter how much you try, you’re not who you pretend.  You are who you are when no one else is around and sees you – yet that is often the BEST of you.  It’s the You that dances freely and sings out loud to the music that moves your soul.  It’s the You that is playful and karate chops the imaginary bad guys.  It’s the You that is free, and imaginative, and fun, and quirky! Yet, because of fear of rejection and judgment we often hide our true quirky selves from the world.  Want to see someone really free?  Those are the people who are not afraid to be themselves no matter where they happen to stand or sit. They let their quirky shine because they’ve come to appreciate the things in life that make a person happy – being free.  Freedom isn’t being alone – it’s being uninhibited.  I see a lot of people all looking like each other, talking like each other, dressing like each other – they are clones of one another and bound tightly by their fear and insecurities.  A young punk – plays the part of a thug – but he just wants to be loved but too scared, too rejected to be himself, so he hides behind the outfits, the language, the rebellion and the disrespect.  But, take a step back and look at them again – this time seeing how desperately they cling to who makes them feel they belong.  The more they scream they don’t care – the more in the night they scream inside to be loved and to be wanted.  They’re bound – and can’t be their quirky self. My heart breaks for them. I wish I could open their hearts and pour that freedom right in – but that’s not how it works.  They have break their own chains of bondage.

That leads me into the next beautiful thing about the human condition – our uniqueness.  We may have a lot of similarities, we are all unique.  There is no one else like us.  We have our own DNA, our own personality, our own dreams.  We see only ONE life out our eyes.  While we may focus on others, everything in our life is from OUR POV.  I can’t experience someone else’s life. I can imagine, and try to put myself in someone else’s shoes, but I was born in this body, with this soul, and this mind and everything I see, feel, touch and experience is through HER point of view. Sure, I can get mad and think life isn’t fair I didn’t get to have someone else’s life, someone else’s parents, someone else’s family, someone else’s opportunities, etc.  NOPE… I was born Tonya – and only TONYA is who I can be.  There is no other ME.

I used to think I needed to save the world to save my own soul, to feel worthy of being a human being.  My life at times has been a living hell and I’ve endured things I would never wish on my worst enemy, but it’s the life I have and was given. I have responsibility to that woman – to love her, to protect her, to strengthen her, to keep her healthy, to guide her and to let her be who she was meant to be.  I can look at her as a victim – or I can focus on her potential.  I have a great destiny, a beautiful testimony.  I LOVE that woman in the mirror.  I LOVE her for all her unique beauty. I LOVE her soul, her will, her determination, her strength, her ability to pick herself back up after she’s been knocked down, rejected, unloved, and unwanted.  She’s amazingly unique.  I will never know another like her.

Beauty has nothing to do with having a pretty face, a nice body, or a hefty bank account, a degree, an award, status or rank.  Beauty is what’s inside.  Beauty is love, kindness, compassion, courage, determination, diligence, honesty, patience.  There are many pretty plastic people filled with ugly souls.  Beauty is how you treat others AND how you treat yourself. 

Knowing all these things, and being unafraid to embrace them is the magic that binds them all together.    

Till next time,

~T.L. Gray

Letter From a Reader

Awww... I want to cry. I just received the following message from someone that reads my blog. BTW - I responded and told him I appreciated his letter and that I won't publish his name, but that I wanted share what he wrote because it touched me. He answered, "I figured as much. I read your blog everyday. I think I had an idea of how you'd respond. Thanks for respecting my privacy and you're more than welcome to share my words."


Anyway: Here's his message:


Dear, T.L.,


Yes, I'm writing with a greeting. I can't help it. It's how I was taught to write. I'm from the old school of things. When a man wants to write a letter to a lady, he should open with a greeting.


I know we've never met but I've been reading your blog for almost a year. I first stumbled upon it reading a review you wrote for Anthony Ryan. By the way, that was one of the best book reviews I've ever read. I purchased the book immediately and Mr. Ryan didn't disappoint. Raven's Shadow was everything you'd written and more. I hope Mr. Ryan appreciates your enthusiasm for his work.


I'm not writing to flirt with you, only to tell you what reading your blog has meant to me. It's literally changed my life. I'm highly professional and somewhat of a high profile, but inside I struggle trying to self identify. I've lived my life being defined by everyone else around me. In my case, it's been a good definition. I can't complain.


Some of the things you've written touched me very deeply. There were times I misdirected those feelings, believing perhaps I was falling in love with this beautiful soul being poured out week after week in front of me, but I kept telling myself you weren't real, more than likely a created persona to enhance your writing career. Yes, I'm a skeptic. I'm in the entertainment business and question everything. Just when I'm convinced of this created persona, you then write something so naked, so heart-breaking, you'd literally have me weeping at my desk. I knew in those times that you were a real person and you were being honest while sharing the intimate pain of your life.


So many times I wanted to write to you and tell you how beautiful you were to me. I've seen some of your pictures and think you're a very pretty woman, but the beauty I witnessed poured out in those blog posts have greatly exceeded your pretty face. It broke my heart to see you often doubt yourself, doubt your worth, and believe yourself to be unlovable. It boggles my mind how you're alone. I wish there were more like you in this world. Every time I received a new email notification that you've posted a new article, my hope was always to find you'd found your happiness. I wouldn't have to wait long when you would post again and it be something happy, something brave, something that showed you did see yourself as the beautiful soul you really were. I sometimes pondered if you were perhaps bipolar because you often went from one extreme to the next. I slowly began to understand your process. All this time I had felt like you were writing to me, or at least to a captive audience, but you were not. You were the audience. You have been the targeted reader all along. I want you to know you're simply amazing.


I don't have a blog and never will. I'm not as brave as you to expose myself the way you do, but I am taking a page from your example. I've started writing a journal to myself. The first few entries were stilted, odd, and somewhat confusing, but freeing at the same time. I'm not the same caliber of writer as you, but seeing my words on the page helped me see them in a different light and understanding. I'm learning a lot about and not struggling so much with self identity. You've restored my faith in people. You've reminded me about the important things.


I want to thank you Ms. Gray for sharing your heart with unknown strangers as myself. I sincerely hope you find the happiness you're searching for. That man will be one of the luckiest men in the world, because I have no doubt he will be loved like he's never been loved before and appreciated like he's never been appreciated before. I may not know you, but I know your heart. You once wrote a post about why you call someone in your life Beautiful. You, my dear, are the truest example of Beautiful I've ever seen. I work with beautiful faces every day, but they do not possess the kind of beauty I witness in you.


Please keep writing. I believe you're changing many hearts across this world, not just mine.


Sincerely,

Your Faithful Reader


*** With a hand full of tissues, I'm wiping the wet tears off my face and gobs of snot dripping from my nose. *** This just made my day. Hell, it's made my week, my month, and probably my year!!!!

Feeling Sexy

I woke this morning and just felt good.  I’m not talking about sexual, I’m talking about feeling beautiful, attractive, and yes, dare I say it… sexy.

I had a smile on my face, replaying bits of a beautiful conversation I had the night before and threw back the covers.  When the cool air swept over my hot body, I looked down and admired the way the edge of my panties drew my attention to my hips.  My gaze followed the dips and curves and I was pleased.  I used to hate the way they looked, but I’ve been working really hard to get into shape and this morning I admired my handiwork.  Do I think they’re perfect? No.  I still have more work to do, but I’m very happy with the results so far.  An enlightening thought hit me in that moment.  I’m not getting into shape to please anyone else, especially some shallow man, but me… and damn if that didn’t make me smile.  It has me feeling sexy.

I threw on my workout clothes, tied my hair into a pony tail, and headed toward the living room to start my morning workout.  As I passed my vanity, I stopped and gazed at my body in the mirror.  I turned to get a good look at my backside in my running pants… and smiled even bigger. Once again, I felt sexy. Could I be a model?  Hell, no! Nor would I want to be, but I’m liking the way I’m toning.  I just turned 43-years old but my body is looking younger and younger every week.  I nearly bounced all the way to the living room.

During my yoga session, instead of clearing my mind as I stretched my body, I was checking myself out, looking at all my curves, my muscles, and even all the bruises left over from the move (I sincerely look like someone beat the living hell out of me). I still have flaws and areas I don’t know if I will ever be able to repair after years of neglect and abuse, but I admired my body this morning. I noticed how much my muscles are toning and in the right accessories how hot I looked.  Would I think the same if I were completely naked and able to see all my scars?  I doubt it – but then those scars are part of who I am, the very things that have given me most of my strength.

After my yoga session and having limbered up, I started my strength training (4 for the Core, sit-ups and squats using a kettlebell and hand weights).  As I felt the burn, I smiled knowing that my pain wasn’t for nothing, because it’s working.  I’m getting stronger (hopefully soon I’ll be able to start climbing). I moved to the treadmill, set the speed, and took off.  It wasn’t long before I had to start regulating my breathing (I really need to have my lungs checked out… I do have a problem with breathing) and I could feel the sweat starting to run down the side of my face, on the back of my neck, and in other various places.  I loved that feeling as my body moved in rhythm to the treadmill.  I closed my eyes for a few moments and thought about when I first made the decision nearly two years ago to get into shape and struggled to run at all and the excitement I felt when I completed my first 1/8th of a mile.  I’m still not a great runner, but I love how it gets my heart racing.

Now hot, sweaty and struggling to breathe, I jumped into a nice tepid shower to cool off.  When that cool water hit me, I felt goose-bumps pop up all over my body.  I showered quickly and then dressed even more quickly.  For some reason this morning my clothes just fit better.  I liked the way my boobs looked in my bra, how my shirt hung just right, how my pants fit and complimented my curves.  I’m not a skinny beanpole.  I don’t have legs that go on forever.  I don’t look like a plastic Barbie doll. I look like a hot-blooded sexy woman.

When a woman feels sexy, she becomes sexy no matter what society dictates as the standard for sexiness.  She walks sexy, she smiles sexy, and she emits a sexy energy that attracts attention.  She doesn’t need tight-fitting or revealing clothes, heavy make-up, or  expensive hairdo’s to make her sexy – she just needs to feel it about herself.

I’ve already received several compliments this morning on how great I look, when I look no different than I do every other day.  I’ve noticed the new glances and the increase in smiles. The only difference is how I feel about myself.  I’m not trying to attract attention, I’m just so damned happy with how I feel about me.  This has been a long journey and struggle.  I know I’ve mentioned in these blogs over the past couple of years of how I’m falling in love with “Me”.  Today, I’m crushing on the sexy woman I noticed this morning.  I’m so proud of her and all the hard work she’s done to get herself into her current shape.  That appraisal just fuels my efforts to continue this quest even more.

So, how are you feelin’ this morning, Sexy?

Till next time,

~T.L. Gray

Love Shall Trickle

You know, they say (though I have no idea who ‘they’ are) that if I love something or someone, and I pour my love into them, that love will come back to me.  That’s not always true.  Well, at least it’s not true in the sense that it comes back to me in the way I hope or think.  I think if I  pour my love into someone specific or into a certain situation, I will reap the return love from both.  But, that’s where I mess up.   Let me try to explain.

When we love someone we tend to think the best thing we can do is pour our love into them and they will love us back.  Too many times I hear the following excuse in a break up, “But I loved you, I believed in you, I gave you everything.”  I know.  I’ve done it.  I’ve said those exact words.  Where I messed up was in the actual pouring out what I had into someone else.  In the end… all it left me, was empty.

What I’ve learned is that I need to let the raw love I have for myself  trickle into me, begin to fill me, let it build and then let it run over my banks and cascade out of me like a waterfall.  Those who stand under it or around me will be affected … but I don’t need them to fill my banks.  That’s for me to do. 

In my trial and errors, failures and mistakes, I’ve learned a valuable lesson:  I poured myself out to the wrong person.  What I should have  done was allow myself to pour into me, and from the overflow provide a beautiful waterfall of love for everyone else. 

I don’t need to be loved.  I want to be loved, adored, wanted and desired -  everyone does.  But, I’m beginning to see what I need most  is for people to enjoy the love I have for and in me.  They will love me, because I love me. 

I have some really great friends in my life, and the reason I love them is because I see something in them that is beautiful.  I once told someone they were beautiful and I wasn’t talking about the color of their eyes or even the way they made me feel.  They were beautiful to me because I saw them loving themselves, enjoying what made them happy, and encouraging me to do the same by being who they were, not who I wanted them to be.  I sometimes saw that beauty so strong I couldn't help but become overwhelmed. I bathed in their waterfall.