Rock Your Own World

I love to be told I’m beautiful. I love to be looked at with admiration and desire. I love to be appreciated and cherished. Nothing is tenderer and sexier to me than a man I admire staring me in the eyes, gently moving a strand of hair from my face, and me being able to see admiration staring back at me. I love whispered adorations and butterflied crushes. They are the ULTIMATE erotic moments. Well, I’m going to add an awesome head massage to that list. However, I don’t need any of it. I like it, I crave it sometimes, but I don’t need it to feel good about myself. Why? I rock my own world.

I take a lot of selfies, not because I’m narcissistic, but because I genuinely love myself. It took me a long time to get there. And it was a long, hard journey.  I’m not self-absorbed or shallow.  I’m probably the deepest thinking person I know. I’m not spoiled and pampered.  But, if you just met me, you don’t know my story or what a HUGE deal it is for me to take a simple picture. There are no pictures of me for MOST of my life up until the last few years. I didn’t take pictures of myself and others didn’t take pictures of me either. Why should they? I didn’t love myself, so how could I expect them to love me? I didn’t. They didn’t. 

I had a reckoning with God and with myself. It wasn’t a pretty process. It was filled with facing a lot of shame, a lot of anger, and a lot of hurt. But, I faced it – and the other side is stunning. I grow more beautiful everyday – regardless if anyone else agrees or not. Their opinion really doesn’t matter to me. I grow more graceful with every new strength, every new accomplishment, and every new selfie.  My smile is genuine because I am genuinely happy.  Yes, I have some hard moments, sad moments, and painful moments, but even still – I’m happy because I’ve learned to rock my own world.

I’ve learned that nobody else can love me the way I have learned to love me. I’ve been with ME my whole life, and I will be with ME until I die. I’ve seen and experienced everything I’ve been through. There are no secrets, there are no surprises. I know every failure, weakness, success, and strength.  I know every shameful moment, low moment, proud moment, embarrassing moment, and every joyous moment.   When I look in the mirror, I smile because I LOVE the woman looking back at me. I’m proud of her. I respect her. She is a survivor and a rock star. I know about her fears and her sacrifices, and I’ve watched her face death and rejection a million times, and a million times she stood back up.  She has been abused and unloved by the world for most of her life, but she didn’t give up and still fights every day.  She’s honest – woefully and painfully honest, and that is beautiful.

Someday her hope is she will find a partner to share all the wonder that she is, who will love her just as much as I do, and who will rock her world …or not.  She’s already got me. 

Till next time,

~T.L. Gray

Be Yourself

If you’re in my life and I like you, well, simply I like you. If I do like you, I like you just like you are, just like I discovered you, for who you are. Well, for the most part. We are ever-evolving souls, moving from one stasis to another, morphing from one state of being into another, going from caterpillar to butterfly, and carcass to maggots.  I’m an optimistic in hopes that those changes are for the better towards progression, but I am completely aware we are all capable of the worse towards regression. I’ve been there a few times. I’m human, and so are you.  Be Yourself.

I think my biggest battle is setting my expectations of someone on my ideals of who I want them to be and imagine them to be, instead of who they truly are, because again – I’m an optimist and hopeless romantic. But don’t mistake my romanticism for a lack of the ability to acknowledge realism.  I do see the flowers on side of the road - but I also see the potholes, the dying bees, the faded lines, and the carbon-footprint.

Some people are perfectly imperfect and have become inspirations for me and I unapologetically love them for it. Some people have disappointed me, not because they couldn’t be perfect, but because they didn’t strive for it. I’m going to be myself. And who I am is someone who strives to succeed, who strives to be perfect, one who understands how to take their failures and learn from them, who never quits, who never gives up, and who loves with their whole heart.  I speak truth, even if it hurts. I respect truth, even if it hurts.

Deception and lies hurt – the person telling them and the person being told them. I don’t want to hurt anyone. I don’t want to deceive anyone. I want to love people for who they are inside and out.  I want to be proud of my friends and lovers. I want to be inspired by people willing to be themselves. 

It’s hard in this world today to be our true selves, mostly because we don’t know who we truly are to our very core. Do we display our truth, or our ideal of our truth? In this world of social media, it’s too easy to create a persona of who we think we are and who we want to be, but it’s hard to be completely honest and vulnerable – because we fear judgment. The world is cruel. But, I’ve learned over the years that freedom to be my true self, and that be okay, and that be good enough is the ultimate accomplishment. While I do care to have the love and respect from the people I love and respect – I don’t give a shit what anyone thinks of me or my behavior. I just have to make sure it’s okay with the woman in the mirror. If she’s okay with it, I’m okay with it.  I care what my friends think and feel about me, because I value them – just as they are - and their love and respect is important to me. I care what my boyfriend thinks about who I am and the kind of woman I am, because I want him to trust me and love me for the woman I am – not who I was or he thinks I will be someday, but who I am in this moment. I don’t want to change who they are, either. I have come to love them as they are – imperfections and all.

I’m glad they’re not perfect, because I’m very competitive. I want them to be proud of me and the woman I’ve chosen to be, and I’m going to be myself, all the fucking perfectly imperfect parts of me.  I’ve told my boyfriend all about my dark, ugly demons, scars, and imperfections. If they haven’t scared him away by now, I think he might just stick around for a while.  I adore him just like he is – as himself. I adore my best friend just like she is – as herself. I adore my kids just like they are – as themselves.  Be yourself, and let me love that person.

Till next time,

~T.L. Gray

Heroes

he·ro

[ˈhirō]

1.      person who is admired or idealized for courage, outstanding achievements, or noble qualities.

"a war hero"

·         the chief male character in a book, play, or movie, who is typically identified with good qualities, and with whom the reader is expected to sympathize.

synonyms:

·          (in mythology and folklore) a person of superhuman qualities and often semidivine origin, in particular one whose exploits were the subject of ancient Greek myths.

I’ve had the honor of meeting and knowing many heroes in my life. Not all of them served in the military. On the contrary, many of them were uncommon people trying to survive in an ordinary world and realizing they had to be better. 

I recently heard a phrase from former Navy SEAL and now Motivational Speaker David Goggins that hit me right in my soul. “You have to be uncommon amongst uncommon people.”  Meaning – that it wasn’t good enough just to be uncommon, to strive to be stronger, better, faster, smarter or more determined than the average “common” man in order to truly succeed.  No, you have to be even more uncommon than just uncommon.  You have to constantly strive to be better than your best – knowing your best is already better than the ordinary and the common. Never stop striving, never settle. 

What I took from what Goggins said was this - Once I succeeded at something – I kept going, kept striving, kept dreaming and kept moving to succeed at even more things in my life.  THAT’s the true mark of success.  It’s not the obtaining something that identifies success, but the process by which we reach our goals.  I’m not successful because I wrote a book and it hit a list. My true success was the journey, the dreaming, the writing, the editing, the submitting, the marketing, the path, the experiences, the failures, and the will to keep going after bad reviews and scores of rejections. It was believing in myself and not giving up.  It was …being uncommon amongst uncommon people.

I’ve recently started dating a man that inspires me because he’s got dreams, goals, aspirations, and a will of steel to make them happen.  He’s accomplished much in this world and in my eyes is a true hero. Not just because he served his country and put his life on the line for it for many years as a Navy SEAL, but because he didn’t stop dreaming, didn’t stop struggling, didn’t stop training, didn’t stop striving for success in life. He’s got a dream and he’s working hard to fulfill that dream. He set his mind as a child to become a Frogman, and then he fought for that dream until he made it happen.  He didn’t let life come in and deter his path.  He’s a fighter, and he’s always training for the next fight – literally and figuratively.  He doesn’t let his age stop him. He doesn’t let diabetes stop him. He doesn’t let other people stop him.  He is uncommon amongst uncommon people. I’m sometimes overwhelmed at how much I admire him for those things.

But heroes come in all different packages. 

·         A single-parent giving up their wants and desires in order to care and provide for their children is a hero in my eyes. 

·         A man or woman with the courage to stand up to and walk away from an emotional or physical abusive partner is a hero in my eyes.

·         A teacher that continues to hope, to teach, to strive to open minds despite statistics, economics, politics, disobedient and disrespectful students, and sorry-ass lazy parents are heroes in my eyes.

·         Those who volunteer and give their time, love, energy, and gifts to making the world a better place, caring for our earth, our animals and humanity are heroes in my eyes.

·         Those who seek to protect our children, our elderly, our veterans, and our mentally challenged or physically handicapped are heroes in my eyes.

There are many heroes amongst us, there are uncommon people amongst uncommon people if we just look hard enough. Yes, there are more common people (sheep) than uncommon, there are more predators (wolves) creating more victims than heroes, but there are a few uncommon warriors (sheepdogs) among us that protect us, that risk their lives, their livihood, their safety, and their peace for the world around them. I appreciate them. I adore them. I admire them. I strive to be one of them. I could never settle for being common.  I could never settle for being uncommon.  I desire to be uncommon amongst uncommon people. To be called crazy for chasing my goals and dreams. To be misunderstood and outcast for following my own path. For being myself and true to myself.

So, thank you James, thank you Goggins, thank you Rothfuss and Lawrence, and thank you Scott for inspiring me. You’re all my heroes.

Till next time,

~T.L. Gray

Make Your Bed

https://binged.it/2JLKRSi

“Want to change the world? Start by making your bed every day.” ~Admiral William H. McRaven

I have been doing this for as long as I can remember.  The part in this particular section of the speech that stuck out to me is when the Admiral said, “The little things in life matter. If you can’t do the little things right, you can never do the big things right.”  Much like Luke 16:10 – “Whoever can be trusted with very little can also be trusted with much, and whoever is dishonest with the very little will also be dishonest with much.”

I live by this philosophy and try to be faithful in everything I do, because trust is important to me. I operate with a Spirit of Excellence, and it’s those things I truly value in others, trust being the first of those things. 

I don’t make my bed every morning because I have to, or because I feel the need. I make my bed every morning because it’s mine, I respect it, I want to take care of the things I possess, and it provides me with a sense of accomplishment, even if it’s a little mundane thing.  I want to be prepared for what’s coming next.  I want my bed ‘ready’ for me when it’s time for me to go to sleep.  It doesn’t magically make itself.  And yes, it will just get messed up again – and again – and again, but that’s no excuse NOT to make it up.  My body will get dirty again, and again, and again, but it’s my responsibility to wash it, feed it, clean it, exercise it, and take care of it.  If I don’t, it will not work properly. 

The reason making a bed is a small, yet huge important lesson, is because it’s an act that often no one but we ourselves can see.  It’s not a grand gesture out there for the world to notice to pat me on the back and say, ‘atta girl’.  It’s mundane, it’s simple, only something God and I know that I do, but that’s the point.  It’s a small thing – and the small things matter.  It’s the small things that make up our character, our will, our drive, and our integrity. 

So, make the bed, return the shopping cart to the proper area, pick up the piece of trash on the ground, open the door for others, let someone out at a busy intersection, reach up on the high shelf for the vertically challenged, call your parents, tell the people in your life you love them and appreciate them, say thank you, and be kind.  These things don’t make you weak or a fool for the cruel world to take advantage, on the contrary this is what makes someone tall in integrity and honor. 

As I get older, different things become important to me, and having friends and relationships with people of integrity is at the top of my list.  So, as the Admiral stated in his beautiful speech – make your bed every morning. Start off your day with a sense of accomplishment of having completed something, and then fill that day with other small successes.  Be a person of integrity. 

I made my bed, and then I got dressed and went to the gym and completed my work out. Now I’m writing my blog, and then headed off to work.  I’m already three success into the morning and I’m only getting started.  I’m changing my world, what about you?

Till next time,

~T.L. Gray

What is a Picture of Beauty?

I post a lot of pictures of me on my Facebook, most of them of me smiling or just enjoying life.  I’ve been told that I’m narcissistic, that I’m just obsessed with myself.  For those who think or comment in that manner shows me they know nothing about me. If you scroll through my blog or my Facebook, you’ll not find a picture more than five or six years old.  I personally only have less than a dozen.  Why? I never took pictures of myself because I didn’t feel I mattered.  Others didn’t take and post pictures of me either; they still don’t, because I don’t matter to them, not even my friends today. If I’m on their pages, it’s because I’ve tagged myself in a picture that I took, not one that they took of me. 

I started taking ‘selfies’ when I read an meme that stated, “If you want to see what or who someone values or fears losing, look at who and what they take pictures of.” That hit me right in the heart and deep in my soul.  It was like God whispered in my ear to pay attention.  It had me scrolling through my pictures of beautiful outdoor scenery and activities, my pets, my family, my food, art, simple things I found beautiful, and it was clear to see all the things I loved, because they were right there in front of me in brilliant color, picture, after picture, after picture.  But it didn’t take long before I noticed what was missing in all those pictures - me.  Well, I made a quick excuse, “I’m taking the pictures, so it only makes sense I’m behind the camera, not in front of it.  So, I went to my family and friend’s pages, scrolled through their pictures, and again I could clearly see all the things they loved and valued, but not one picture of me. Not one.  It broke my heart. It still hurts. This was about five years ago.

Before I go any further, the biggest culprit was me.  My family just followed the example I set for them. Because I have problem letting people touch me, my children never hug me, and they tell me it feels awkward when they do.  Who the hell feels awkward hugging their mother and telling her that you love her?  I’ve hugged and kissed my children since the day they were born, and told them I loved them as often as I could. I still do every chance I get.  But, they forget I even exist.  So, how does that happen?

I stopped waiting for someone else to love and value me and started to love and value myself.  I see women posting pictures every day, mostly of themselves in sexually suggestive positions, and it makes me sad.  It’s literally about 95% of the pictures I see. That’s their idea of beauty.  They are complimented my men and women alike and told how beautiful they are, so why should they believe any different?  Why should they act any different? That’s narcissism, posing to get attention, even if the attention is low, perverted, and disgraceful.  These women don’t understand that they’re not displaying their beauty, but their ignorance, allowing themselves to be demeaned as a woman, and viewed only as an object of perversion.  The admiration they receive now will fade once they get a little older; their bodies no longer have the same sexual draw, and then what? What will they have to offer their admirers since their admirers are only interested in their flesh.  But, a woman who smiles, laughs, is pictured living life, appreciating life, loving herself and the world around her are truly visions of beauty.  A woman caught in a moment of compassion, in a nurturing embrace, being a helpmate and friend, those are images of beauty.  Beauty is not her cup size, not in the shape of her boobs, lips, legs or ass, or in suggestive positions so perverted assholes can fantasize fucking her.  She then becomes only an object of their perversion and no longer a woman of beauty. Believe me; while the men appreciate the pictures, they have no respect for her as a woman. 

When I meet a man and start talking to him, if he asks me about my body, or asks me to send him pictures of myself in a bikini etc., then I instantly lose interest in them because it tells me they are not interested in my true beauty.  There are enough women with low self-esteem out there eager to please their narcissistic need for approval by ignorant assholes, but I’m not one of them.  Don’t get me wrong – when I’m in a relationship with ‘MY’ man, I love to be sexual, playful, flirty, etc., because I can share that part of myself with that man because he already recognized my true beauty.  But if I’m not in a relationship, don’t ask me for pictures of my body you fucking assholes! No, definitely ask me, so that way I know who you truly are and can write you off as anyone valuable in my life.

I post pictures of me smiling quite often because I love and value myself.  Those smiles are for me, to remind me that I matter.  This world can’t do that for me. Someone else can’t do that for me. I have to do it for myself.  I post pictures of the people and things that I love and value.  Someday someone else will post a picture of me, and it will truly be a picture of beauty.

Till next time,

~T.L. Gray

I Have Value, Too

I posted a comment on my Facebook page the other day because I was so frustrated and hurt at the actions of my roommate that I wrote, “My time is valuable too. My space is valuable too. My wants and needs are also valuable. Respect should be mutual.”  I am tired of how I pay the consequences of the decisions of other people without respect and consideration for me.  Not only that morning, but this and last weekend were both filled with even more opportunities where that lack of consideration toward me was exampled. I have value, too. 

These past moments are not the only times where my time, my space, my wants, my needs, and my plans have been neglected, or effected, by the decisions of other people.  It’s happened most my life. It hurts just as much now as it has all those times before.  It’s the main reason why I choose to be as I am, respectful and thoughtful of others time, space, wants and needs, because I know how much it aches to be neglected. I don’t want to upset anyone else, especially those I love, by doing the same in return. I just don’t understand why it’s so easy to neglect and disrespect me.  I have value, too.

I want to share three examples lately that have really hurt me. I may not post this blog when I’m done because I don’t want to hurt anyone else, but right now I’m hurt and this blog is my outlet.  The reason I have this outlet is to release the things that hurt me so I don’t hold onto them and they in turn eat me up from the inside out.  We’ll see if I post, later.  Right now, I want to get this out.

Last weekend, my youngest daughter, who is a twenty-two year old adult and she’s been living on her own for a while now, had called me and told me she wanted to come see me for Mother’s Day and to live with me.  I had bought her a bus ticket and sent her some money to eat while on the trip, and made arrangements at work to use what little vacation time I had left to make sure I would be there to pick her up at the bus station. Over the past several years I’ve constantly worried about her, prayed for her, and stood in the background as she’s made a lot of dangerous decisions in her quest for independence; she never called or texted unless she needed money. This is what most parents have to face when you’ve done all you can to raise them to be strong, productive, moral, and smart adults. We can’t live their lives for them.  We have to let them make their mistakes so they can learn how to stand on their own.  Yet, we can always stand on the sidelines cheering them on and be there with a helping hand to help when they fall. Everyone falls at times. I never had anyone there for me, so I vowed to always be there for my children – to let them go, to let them make their choices, and to stand back and watch them walk into the storms of their lives.   Friday came, I left work excited to find an empty bus stop, an unused ticket, and silence – no message, no explanation, nothing. I can’t get my money, my vacation time, or my hope back.  This isn’t the first time she’s done something like this, but it doesn’t hurt any less.  She didn’t value and respect me, my time, or consider my needs and wants in the decision she made. She hasn’t in a very long time.  I just don’t understand.  I see terrible mothers neglect their children, yet their children love them and give them respect no matter how badly they treat them – and grant them compassion and respect they’ve never earned.  Yet, my own children – all of them – never call me and have completely excluded me from their lives. Was I such a terrible mother?  Why is so easy to leave and neglect me? I may not question it if it was just one of my children, but all three?  Why am I so hard to love? Don’t they understand how much I love them and how much it hurts they’ve shut me out? I know their lives are filled with the things they value. I have value, too.

The second example, the one that prompted my post last week, was my roommate leaving her shit for me clean for the millionth time, upsetting my schedule, invading and wasting my time.  As roommates, her habits affect me, just as mine affect her.  She’s come a long way, and I do appreciate the effort she’s making, but it doesn’t make the times she disrespects me hurt any less. Bottom line she’s lazy.  When she’s focused on something, it’s great and there’s really nothing she can’t do. She’s amazing with technical things and electronics. That’s why it pisses me off when she doesn’t do what she’s more than capable of doing.  She’s highly intelligent and very skilled.  But when she’s not focused or simply doesn’t “feel” like doing something, she doesn’t –  and my plans, my space, and my time all be damned.  It would be a different story if it was something that occasionally happens. I have an occasional lazy day, and they’re wonderful. Her lazy days happen a LOT.  I don’t do what I do every day because they are MY habits. MANY of the choices I make are out of respect for HER, for our place, for our space, to respect BOTH our time.  I clean up after myself so SHE will have a clean and ready kitchen should she need to use it, a clean place to sit and watch tv and entertain friends and guests, an empty washer and dryer, an empty dishwasher, a clean floor, etc. Our mutual agreement was to keep these “community” spaces clean – kitchen, laundry room, living room, balcony, etc. Our private spaces – keep as clean or messy as we want. When she doesn’t clean up after herself in these community spaces  – MY time isn’t valued because it’s spent cleaning her shit instead of doing what I want or need.  HER decision last week took away the time I had schedule to write, to work on something very important to me.  I had a great story I wanted to write, but it’s gone now. Instead of writing I was cleaning. Before anyone jumps to conclusions and say, “Well, why didn’t you just leave it for her to clean up later and go write?” Yeah, I’ve done that… many, many, many, many, many times.  What happens – the mess is even bigger later and she will just joke about it AS I’m cleaning it. “Dishes? What are these dishes?” As if joking about it makes her actions acceptable.  I clean the dishes because I need to use them and the space they take up.  It would be nice if they were already cleaned and ready to use when I need them, the way I make sure they are for her.  Believe me… I get tired too.  I have the same fucking 24-hours a day that she does.  It’s not some miracle that the same space gets cleaned after I use it compared to when she does.  I’m not Mary Poppins and just snap my fingers and things clean themselves.  But, I do it because I value her, our space, and our time.  I have value, too.

The third example is about the value of my time and making plans. This past weekend I made plans to spend with one of the teenage son of my ex-boyfriend.  I love this kid. I love both boys as if they were my own.  I fell in love with them as much as I fell in love with their father.  While their father didn’t value me as a girlfriend and broke up with me, we still maintain a friendship and he allows me to continue to be a part of his sons’ lives because he knows how much I love them. But this family sometimes drives me crazy.  I love them very much and I value the time I get to spend with them. I just wish they would value my time as well.  Anyway, back to the story.  The oldest son wanted to come spend the weekend with me, so we planned a cooking weekend.  I’ve been teaching him how to cook and we always have a great time cooking together.  Well, I had many offers of adventures for the weekend. I had an opportunity to visit one of the lighthouses on my lighthouse journey, something no one ever has time or wants to go with me.  That’s okay. I have no problem going by myself. I’ve done most things by myself. I had an invitation to go flying with someone in a Cessna, and another invitation to go riding on an airboat through the swamps. A group of friends invited me to a card game night (which I went and had a blast), and another friend invited me to go paddle-boarding at the river.  Well, I’m not going to say I didn’t skip that invitation because I’m just not comfortable with the idea of falling in a river where I can’t see through the water.  Kayaking or snorkeling in the springs, hell yeah!  In the river where I can’t see through the water… uh, no thank you.  I’ve also been trying to learn how to body board on the weekends. These may not seem like a big deal to anyone else, but they’re my plans, my adventures, the things I WANT to do.  Of course, spending time with this kid, cooking with him, or spending time with this family is very important to me too because I love them dearly. So, I turned down all those other offers and cleared my schedule for them. I went shopping on Friday and got all the ingredients to cook the dishes this kid wanted to cook.  I was so happy.  While most of Saturday was the two of us cooking, his cousin – who lived just a couple doors down wanted to come over and hang out with us. That was great, I didn’t mind at all. Except now my teenaged sous chef wanted to play video games with his cousin instead of cooking. Well, I cooked some things on my own, but I wasn’t going to cook it all by myself. I made him get off the video game and come help me in the kitchen.  He did, for the most part, and learned to cook a few new things.   However, after dinner was consumed and I was getting ready to head to my card game with a few of my friends, he decided he’d rather go hang out with his cousin instead of staying home and watching a movie, but promised to be back in the morning.  I knew I wouldn’t see him again for the rest of the weekend, but plans had been made, and I was going to keep my word, though I could see what was coming, and knew my time wouldn’t be valued.  I have value, too.

Plans had been made  to go the next weekend to Bob’s River Place as a celebration to kick off summer, it is a GREAT place to go with lots of water activities, rope swings, water slides, etc.  I was asked if I could change my plans and go this weekend instead next week because it was more convenient for their schedule. I changed the plans I had made for this Sunday. So, as it stood, I had three plans – I had a teenager who promised to come back and finish our cooking, a day at Bob’s River Place, and the one day a week I would have the place to myself because my roommate made me a promise that she would work in building on Sundays to give me that one day of “me” time– regardless of what my plans were, whether I was home or not.  Do you know how I spent my Sunday? My teenaged sous chef never showed up.  He didn’t call or text me to tell me he had changed his mind. He showed up after I had gone to bed to get the things he’d left the night before that he would need for school. He didn’t ask if I had cooked the rabbit, or had a piece of the pie I spent hours making.  It wasn’t important to him.  We didn’t go to Bob’s River Place either, nor did I get a text or a call to say we weren’t going. I just assumed that by 10am with no word from anyone, our plans had changed.  And instead of getting the place to myself as promised, my roommate took the day off from work and she and her dog were here to invade my space, my time, and my privacy.  So, after crying myself to sleep and taking a little nap while nursing a slight hangover, I got up and spent the rest of “my” day cleaning the “our” whole apartment (alone – though my roommate was there and could have helped), and then spent time hanging out at the pool and playing games together. She was bored, needy of attention, and I love her, and we don’t often get a lot of time to hang out together. I wasn’t going to get my alone time. Even though she tried to stay in her room to give me “my” space, that never lasted more than a half hour before she needed something, wanted something,  or had a question to ask, or had to take her dog out – you know, the typical things that needs to be done when you’re at home.  My time was interrupted, unlike the time she’ll get to enjoy for the next two days she’s off and at home alone.  I have value, too.

I’d love to say I’m not making plans anymore, but that’s not who I am.  I wish I could find a way to make it a bit more difficult for the people I love and care about to ignore, take advantage, and neglect me. Is that asking too much? Don’t I matter? It doesn’t feel like it. It feels like - It doesn’t matter what I want, I’m Tonya, I’ll understand.  “I can neglect her, but she’ll still be there. I can leave my shit sitting here, she’ll clean it up. I can break my word, invade her space, or change my plans, she’ll accommodate.  It doesn’t matter what “she’s” planned, “I” don’t feel like it.  I don’t have to call her sometimes or let her know what’s going on in my life; she should know I love her. I shouldn’t have to tell her. I’m an adult now, I don’t need a mother, or she’s not my mother. I want to be alone. I don’t want the hassle of a relationship, but I do enjoy the benefits without the commitment. It’s good she loves me, but I don’t have to love her back. She doesn’t need it, she’s Tonya.” I have value, too.

I had a woman tell me this weekend that she had been terrified of talking to me because I intimidated her and she thought I was too classy and too proper, that she didn’t think I would want to be friends with her. I know she meant that as a compliment, but it hurt my heart. She’s such a beautiful, friendly woman; I would have easily been friends with her. She’s not the first to tell me that. I don’t know what to do with that.  I don’t understand what I’m doing that makes me loved, but not loved enough, or intimidating, or that I deserve better (but not the best from them - from someone else because they can’t give me what I want or what I deserve), because the next person will tell me I deserve better (but not the best from them - from someone else because they can’t give me what I want or what I deserve), and the next person will tell me I deserve better (but not the best from them - from someone else because they can’t give me what I want or what I deserve). Or so I was told by my last three boyfriends when we broke up. I give my best because I love and value those in my life.  Will no one give me theirs?  I have value, too.

I don’t love and value my kids or my friends because they’re perfect. On the contrary, it is often their imperfections I love most.  I love my children, more than I could ever say. I gave them the best I had.  I wasn’t perfect, but I don’t think I deserve to just be forgotten or shut out completely. I was a good mother. They were my life, my loves.  It hurts me so much they don’t involve me in their lives or care what’s going on in mine.  I love my roommate/sister/bestie more than she’ll ever know. I’m closer to her and have a bond with her like I’ve never had with any of my brothers.  As for my brothers, I sacrificed a lot for them, yet they don’t care about me either. I had to separate myself from them because they hurt me, lied to me, stole from me, and endangered my children.  I love my best friend and his sons. They’re family - they own a part of my heart and soul.  Do I not matter to anyone?  My parents never wanted or valued me. My brothers never wanted or valued me.  My ex-husband never wanted or valued me. My kids don’t want or value me.  I have value, too.

Someday the people in my life are going to look up, but I’m not going to be there anymore – just like my parents, my brothers, and my ex-husband discovered, because “I” value me. I have value, too.

Till next time,

~T.L. Gray

Friendship

I had a conversation last night with a very good friend, where I made the statement that while I was very empty in romance, I was very rich in friendship. I am.  I am very lucky that I have such wonderful friends in my life.  The meaning of friendship has been on my mind a lot lately.  I’ve made some new friends because I’ve opened myself to allow new people into my life, and I’ve cut out some toxic because of the way they’ve treated me.

I have to fight very hard not to lose myself in someone else, not to allow their wants, needs, and desires to override my own. I’ve done that all my life, gave up the things I wanted to accommodate others, sacrificed my own needs to make sure those I love were never in need or without.  Oh, boy… I’ve made some HUGE strides in this area over the past few years.  I’ve learned to say “no”.

However, I still find myself at times putting up with the bullshit, keeping quiet when I’m disrespected, letting others place their needs, their issues, their wants, their devices, their additions, and their bullshit at a personal cost to myself. 

But that’s okay, because I’m back on my journey to self-love and self-respect.  The stronger I grow, the less I put up with the bullshit. No matter how much I love my friends, I WILL walk away from those who continuously abuse, neglect or take advantage of me.  I put up with a lot, because I know none of us are perfect, we all make mistakes, we all have weaknesses and failures, and I’m no judge.  I hope for the best for those I love, and I’ll do anything for them to help them achieve their dreams, dig out of their problems, and fight for what they need. But I don’t have to put up with the disrespect and the abuse.

Ignore me, lie to me, use me, always come to me with your hand out, but NEVER bother to ask how my day may have went or if “I” needed anything, I’ll start to put my wall up.  Push me away when you’re going through something, and because I love you I’ll keep coming back. Keep pushing me away, one day I’ll eventually keep walking.  I’ve been there, where I’ve pushed everyone away in my life.  My real friends didn’t let me completely block them out, and I love them for not giving up on me.  But, there will come a time when I will give up, because I’ve made a vow to myself that I will never remain where I’m not wanted, where I’m not respected, where I’m neglected and abused.

My greatest hope is that one day I will be happy and deeply in love with my soul mate, my best friend, my greatest companion… and he will be just as much in love with me.  I will never doubt his love, I will experience the beauty of his respect, I will taste the fruit of his passion, and I will give him my everything because he will be my everything.  He will not abuse me or neglect me.  He will honor me, love me, cherish me, respect me, desire me, care about my hopes, dreams, fears, and passions.  He will sometimes piss me off and disappoint me, but he will make me confident in his love so I’ll be unafraid to just be myself. He will not make me feel small or a fool.  I will be his crown, his closest companion, his biggest cheerleader, and his greatest fan, his best friend.

At least that’s my hope and fantasy. I'm not yet ready to meet him or jump immediately into a serious situation.  I still can't breathe. I'm still a mangled mess. But I will be ready, someday, and I hope that day comes soon.

Till next time,

~T.L. Gray

My Hero - This We'll Defend

We all have our idea and definition of what makes a hero. For some it would require a fancy suit and epic tale, but for me it’s in the little things that are truly not so little when you add them up, that makes a hero.  In this story, my hero’s suit is a U.S. Army uniform.

I have the honor and privilege to be surrounded by real heroes, though they would argue with me for calling them such a thing.  One of my friends, and he knows who he is, often argues and disagrees with me for calling him a hero.  But, regardless of his own definition and interpretation - he will always be a hero to me.

Who are my heroes?  They’re all men and women who wouldn’t want their names to be mentioned or even referenced, yet I have the honor and privilege to call them ‘friend’.  They will probably not want to read this post just because their mouths and stomachs are stuffed with humble pie. But this isn’t their blog, it’s mine.  It’s made for me to express MY opinion.  The admiration and love I have for these men and women sometimes brings me to tears it’s so overwhelming.

One of my heroes is a friend that currently serves as a Drill Sergeant at Fort Benning.  I’ve never seen someone work so much.  The hours he puts into his job brings new meaning to the phrase, “Thank you for your service.”  This man is LIVING to serve.  He sacrifices seeing his family.  He has no time for a social life or recreation.  He works so much that most of the time I’m around him, or while communicating with him, he’s falling asleep on his feet.  Some women would get upset about that, but not me.  I’m honored.  He’s a soldier in the U.S. Army, he’s seen combat and stood against our enemies, yet finds enough comfort in my presence to let down his guard and rest.  It’s the highest compliment he could ever pay me.

My Drill Sergeant friend is one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever seen, not because he’s very handsome, but because of his dedication to what he does.  He cares about his job; his mission.  He cares about the impact he makes on the men he’s training.  I recently got to spend some time with those young men and I listened to how they spoke about my friend, and I heard the admiration and respect they had for him.  It brought me to tears while sitting in a circle of about 20 of them and one of these young men stood up and said, “I’m not afraid of what Drill Sergeant would do to me; I only fear disappointing him.”  You can’t buy, instill, or force that kind of respect.  It’s earned.  He never has to tell me anything else about himself  for me to know he’s a hero.  The respect in his men’s eyes are witness enough. I hope my eyes reflect the same respect.

I’ve watched my Drill Sergeant command, I’ve observed him lead, I’ve witnessed him teach, and I’ve never admired anyone more.  I appreciate him more than I could ever express.  I know not everyone who wears a uniform operates at his level of excellence and dedication, but he alone has restored my faith in the majority of those who do wear the uniform.  When I see the Army logo now it is his face that has become the face of that symbol.  Because of his leadership I have more confidence in those he sends out to fight, to protect, and to serve, because I know they’ve been taught by the best. I love and admire him deeply.

My Drill Sergeant wouldn’t want me to mention his name, and I will respect his privacy not to do so, nor mention the names of my other Army friends who I also love and admire and think of as heroes.  They know who they are … Ranger, Bestie, Major and Sergeant.  But I will share with you all a picture of my hero Drill Sergeant in service.

Till next time,

~T.L. Gray

Love Your Body

It doesn't matter what shape you're in right now, learn to love your body.  Just as it's important to love your soul in order to love  and treat others with love, you need to love your body so you can learn to treat it right. Here are a few steps I've learned recently as I go through this new phase of my life that has led to my body becoming more fit, healthier, beautiful, and sexy.

1.  The first step you need to do is forgive yourself for the neglect or abuse you've put your body through in the past.  The past is the past.  You can't change it.  Face it honestly and then get over it. We've all abused ourselves in one way or the other.  While most of us could never even fathom the thought of neglecting and hurting someone else, we often don't give a second thought to the way we treat ourselves.  I've experienced all extremes   -from harsh rigorous training, pushing it to it's limits, to smoking, over-eating, neglect, lack of exercise, neglect, often hating it.  If we don't treat our own selves, our bodies, right, then we can't complain when it fights back

2.  The next step you need to do is respect yourself.  Your body is yours, you have control,  so value it.  It's precious.  MAKE TIME to treat it right.  Do what's best for it.  Protect it. Don't share it with someone who doesn't deserve it. Don't waste your time with people who don't respect, inspire, encourage,or respect you.  Don't neglect to share it with those who do.  Respect leads to confidence and confidence is the sexiest trait a person can have. 

3.  The last step you need to do is celebrate yourself.  Set definitive goals and then celebrate your achievements.  Humbleness is sweet, but it doesn't build confidence.  When you fulfill a goal, brag about it.  The only way you're going to appreciate yourself is to realize how great you are, and you won't know how great you are if you never celebrate your achievements.  Start out small, set some minor milestones and start celebrating when you reach them.  As a society we are so easy to criticize, but slow to praise.  I've learned being positive, proud and excited is infectious. When I smile, I often receive a smile in response.  When I laugh, it draws attention and people want to be around me.  When I praise my efforts and get excited about my goals and activities, I inspire others to join me.

The better your body feels, the healthier it is, the prettier, sexier, happier, and lovelier you feel. If you don't take care and love yourself, you can't expect someone else to do it for you. It doesn't matter your imperfections, because we all have them, when you love, forgive, respect and celebrate yourself -you will be beautiful.

Here's a few ideas: Exercise, ride a bike, hula hoop, eat healthy, dance, get outside, make love, wear flattering clothes, dress up, get plenty of sleep, take vitamins, treat it occasionally to an indulgence, do something new and often,  and tell it everyday it's beautiful and you love it no matter what - and watch it come alive.

Till next time,
~T.L. Gray

My new goal today is learn to dance like Shakira in this video, Hips Don't Lie.  It looks fun, sexy, and a source of great exercise.