Showing posts with label men. Show all posts
Showing posts with label men. Show all posts

Sunday, February 28, 2016

Piece by Piece





I sometimes think I really love a good epic fantasy, a fairy tale, because I have this deep need to see a valiant hero, to see a man stick his neck out, risk his life, risk everything in order to save the day.  I hope for it. I dream of it. I just need to actually see it put into action sometimes. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve seen it before. I’ve seen the beauty and selflessness of man.  I’ve seen heroes. I’ve watched some of the most beautiful men risk their lives for their woman, their family, their faith, and their country. I’ve watched heroes die. I’ve lost a hero of my own and have lived with the fact for the past 24 years I was left alone so that others be saved. Others, who often don’t appreciate the sacrifices that were made for them. Others, who often degrade and diminish those sacrifices.

I just heard a song by Kelly Clarkson that had me weeping, because it touches so close to the center of my heart. “Piece by piece he collected me off the ground where you abandoned things. Piece by piece he filled the holes that you burned in me at six years old. He never walks away; he never asks for money. He takes care of me, ‘cause he loves me. Piece by piece he’s restored my faith that a man could be kind and a father could stay… piece by piece.”

Now, that’s a man, one not afraid to pick up the shattered pieces, one unafraid of the difficulties he may have to face for the woman he loves. You know, that’s all women really need from a man - to be loved, to be brave, to be wanted, and needed.  We all have difficulties to face, shattered pieces to put back together, and we women are strong enough to do anything and everything on our own. We don’t need to be saved, we just need to be loved so we can heal, blossom, and then bloom into the beautiful flower that will adorn her man.  

Bonnie Tyler had the right idea. “Where have all the good men gone, and where are all the gods? Where’s the street-wise Hercules to fight the rising odds? Isn’t there a white knight upon a fiery steed? Late at night I toss and I turn and I dream of what I need.  I need a hero. I’m holding out for a hero ‘til the morning night. He’s gotta be strong, and he’s gotta be fast, and he’s gotta be fresh from the fight. I need a hero. I’m holding out for a hero ‘till the morning light.  He’s gotta be sure, and it’s gotta be soon, and he’s gotta be larger than life.  Somewhere after midnight, in my wildest fantasy, somewhere just beyond my reach there’s someone reaching back for me. Racing on the thunder and rising with the heat. It’s gonna take a Superman to sweep me off my feet.”

We are strong. We are independent. We are resilient. Where have all the good men gone? We need heroes. We don’t need flowery words, empty promises, lies and deceptions.  Our bodies aren’t the prize, it’s our hearts and our minds and our devotion. Why are there so many cowards?  Why do men choose the easy route, the sure, temporary thing? I’ve watched men choose women in fear, too afraid to take a chance, too lazy to face a challenge.  I even had a man tell me once, “Never date someone who’s problems are bigger than yours.” Really?  That’s selfish, that’s lazy, that’s pathetic.  

I’m really tired of cowards, tired of men too afraid to step up and be the men I know they’re capable of being. I understand we live in a world that has constantly been emasculating men for years. I see it every day and it literally makes my heart ache.  Where are our warriors, men willing to fight no matter how difficult the struggle is ahead of them? Where are our gods, men unafraid to love a woman, to devote himself to one woman and make her a goddess, a queen?  Men expect women to be these great queens, but do not feel they must be king themselves first. 

God, help me.  I’m surrounded by minstrels and fools. Piece by piece, let my faith be restored that a man can be kind and a hero can be brave. This sword I carry is heavy.  Take a fucking risk, you cowards! Stop playing these mind games because you’re too afraid to lose, too afraid to fail, too afraid to get hurt.  The best things in life are those things that require risk, require sacrifice, and require a bit of courage.  I’m sick of watching men run away from confrontation, too scared to speak their mind, too afraid to want something, too afraid to put their heart’s on the line. They chase after what’s easy, what’s uncomplicated, until it becomes complicated and then run like a feral dog with their tails tucked between their legs because things get hard. Life is hard.  Life if filled with drama and complications, yet if you stick it out, there’s also a beauty that’s worth it.

Is this what we want to teach our sons, the next generation of men, how to be a coward?  They learn by example, not by words. Let’s teach them that to have a woman look at you with pure admiration and devotion because you stood up and faced your fears like a man, is worth it.  Big muscles don’t make a man, a big heart does. Well-endowed shouldn’t be in reference to the size of a man’s penis, but the size of his courage. Courage shouldn’t only be present when you hold a gun in your hand, but when you hold a heart. Stop this fucking half-hearted, bullshit cowardice two-step dance.  If you don’t have the guts to be the man a woman deserves, a woman needs, then move to the side and go play with young women who don’t know what they want or need and have no confidence in themselves so they’ll put up with your bullshit.  I’m tired of watching the tears stream down a good woman’s face because a coward broke her heart, because he was too much of a pussy to actually devote himself to her, and her alone.  Instead of facing the difficulties of a relationship, they move onto the next unsuspecting woman. 

In a recent conversation with my best friend, they asked me what I wanted, what I needed, what I hoped for in a relationship. It wasn’t a great body, an intellectual mind, a great financial portfolio, or a long laundry list of attributes I found attractive… it was very simply… a man willing to love me with all his heart. That man would have my devotion, my faithfulness, my support, my love.  They would have a partner that would give them everything and who would stand by their side and fight through anything. I’ve been through hell and back, there’s nothing I can’t face, there’s nothing I can’t accomplish, there’s nothing I can’t overcome. I don’t need a man to save me, just love me. But a coward can’t do that.  A coward can’t pick up my pieces, they don’t have the strength.

I don’t need a man. I can take care of myself. I love myself and strive to navigate this world through that love and with that love.  That love blazes like the sun.  Cowards can’t touch the sun, only heroes.  My heart breaks for my friend as I watch her try to pick up the pieces of her broken heart.  I think I empathize because I have found myself in the same position as her many times before.  My anger this morning is perhaps for us both.  I’m so sick of cowards.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not beating up on all men. I love men. I love good men. I admire courageous men. I respect heroes. I know there are good men out there.  I just need to see them, just a little piece.




Monday, October 19, 2015

Manly Man




I’ve often heard a guy talk about being ‘manly’, like his actions determine his level of maturity. But really… who makes up the rules? What is the measuring rod that determines the level of manliness that determines whether a male is manly enough? I hope to God it isn’t his ability to spit a nasty wad of tobacco half way across the yard, hit a chicken in the head, and bounce off a bell. That’s just stupid. I also hope it isn’t the deepness or squeakiness of his voice, because I’ve heard some squeaky men and some deep-toned whiny babies.

So, what truly determines the level of manliness accepted by men? Or do the women set this level of acceptability?

For me, what makes a man a man is simply the way he treats the women in his life. Does he respect his mother? Does he refer to females as bitches and ho’s? Does he treat his girlfriend like an object? Does he treat his daughter like a burden or mistake? Does he treat his sisters like they’re not important? How does a man treat the woman in his life? An imbecile treats their women deplorably… and their accomplishments, achievements or abilities mean SHIT, regardless of their virginity status or deepness of voice. An asshole is an asshole is an asshole. A manly man, in my opinion, is someone who loves, adores, respects, protects, worries, and defends the women in their life.

Also, the way that a man is in life, often determines the type of woman he inspires in life. A cheap, lying, asshole creates a long line of damaged, hurt women. But a real man, a manly man, creates a long line of strong, creative, loving, independent women.

So, I suppose there is a measuring rod for ‘manly’, at least one I use… and I hope the world has enough manly men to help build up these beautiful women. I don’t see many ‘manly’ men these days, but I do have to confess that I’ve some of the best manly friends. I can’t help but become a better woman because of them. I hope they know I love them and am proud to call them my friend. I really am a lucky girl.

Till next time,



~T.L. Gray

Tuesday, October 28, 2014

My Man






I read a meme this morning on Facebook that just won’t leave me alone. It’s about a woman warning another woman to stay away from her man. It’s got me really thinking about a lot of different things, perhaps things that’s been bothering me for a long time. What it boils down to is this: I suppose it hit me hard because I’ve been guilty of this action – I’ve gotten angry at the ‘other woman’, threatening her, staking my claim, and blaming her because someone I was in a relationship with cheated on me. But, I’ve grown up a lot since then and have come to see that things aren’t as black and white as I initially thought. Life never is. We should look at ourselves in these instances – not the other woman (or man) or the cheater.. but ourselves. This situation doesn’t reveal who your man is, who the other woman is, but who you are.

I’ve been cheated on and I’ve been the “other” woman. The difference isn’t in the men, but in me. I was at different places in my life for both events – and I’m at a different place now. I can’t say that I’ll never be cheated on again or that I wouldn’t ever again be the other woman. The only thing I know for sure is the woman I am now and the woman I hope to be in the future is a woman who deserves to be loved… to be loved right and completely.

Would I ever cheat? I don’t think so, only because I know me and I know how I love – I give all of me when I give my heart. But, don’t think I’m an angel. I’m not. Especially right now at this time in my life. I’m numb – and in this state, I don’t know what I’m capable of doing, either good or bad. I know there’s a hope in me that I’ll find my fire, my soul-mate, because I look for them every time I go on a new date, meet a new guy, and peer into the eyes of the stranger sitting across from me. I haven’t found him, yet. Well, that’s a lie. I found my soul-mate, but he didn’t want me. I also found a consuming fire and got burned. I loved them both with the deepest part of my heart, I still do, but I love me more and know I deserve more. Not better. They’re very good men and I don’t judge them. They both love me – as much as they can. But I deserve to be completely loved. I deserve to be wanted. I can’t make that happen, and I’ll never force or manipulate them to do it, because it wouldn’t be real, and above all… I deserve something real.

Until ‘real’ happens – what are my choices? To sit all alone with my morals to keep me company? I’ve done that for most of my life – and you know what? Moral is a cold-hearted bitch. All she’s ever really done for me was keep me lonely, keep me in pain, keep me from loving and forgiving myself and others. Or perhaps I can learn to appreciate each individual moment and the small opportunities I get to enjoy the company of someone I love, even if it means being cheated on or being the other woman? Or accept the small portion of love they’re willing to give, no more or no less, than for what it is? I don’t know. I don’t have the answers. I’d love to be able to tell you, “Hell No!” but I’m human and I’m capable of being weak. Do I want it? No. But, I won’t judge it either.

I want to believe in the fairy tale… that true love is out there waiting for me and will find me and sweep me off my feet; that I’m the woman of someone’s dream; that I’m enough; that someone will love me completely - as I deserve; that someone that will be My Man, who will see only me and never need or want another woman. But, it’s hard to keep holding onto something I’ve never experienced. No, that’s a lie too. I was loved once just as I described above, that’s how I know it’s real… but I was the one that didn’t give my heart in return… for a long time at first. I wasn’t ready. For so long, I didn’t have a heart to give. When I finally did… I had my fairy tale for two days… and then I lost it. (See Your Girl) Perhaps that’s why I cling so tightly to the hope that those I love will one day love me back – just as I finally loved back the one who loved me for so many years. Perhaps I’m just a fool. I’m sure many called my soldier a fool for loving me, for holding onto his hope that I would day love him back, but he was the most beautiful thing in the world to me.

All I know… is that I don’t know anything. I don’t know if I’ll never be the other woman again or if I can even love completely again. All I know is that today… I want to be with someone I love, someone I care about, someone that touches my heart, however I can. The thing about love – you can’t force it and you can’t make it happen. I can’t make someone love me that doesn’t and I can’t make myself love someone I don’t. We can all manipulate, but to what end? I refuse to play that game, because it will never lead to something real. Truth (all of it – including the dirty parts)– honesty – openness – and trust – leads to something real. Patience, understanding, not judging one another - leads to something real, too.

Maybe he’s not the right guy… or maybe he’s not the right guy, right now. Maybe I’m not the right girl… or maybe I’m not the right girl, right now. My soldier never gave up on me. What he left me… is this insatiable hope, this fantastic dream, a forgiving heart, an opened mind, a different way to look at the world. How can I give any less? What I wouldn’t give for more of those two days. There’s a song by Fall Out Boy called “Just One Yesterday”…. “If Heaven’s grief brings Hell’s rain, then I’d trade all my tomorrows for just one yesterday.” I can’t go back. I can’t give up hope. Someday I’ll find ‘My Man’… and he’ll find me, and I won’t worry about warning other women away. They’d never be able to pry him from me because I’d have his heart and he’d have mine.

Till next time,



Sitting, Waiting, Wishing (Song by Jack Johnson)