Unconditional love….

"Imagine two people. One is happy, independent. Complete. Another person comes along who is also happy. Together the energy between them is amazing. They feed off each other and it is almost better than before.

Then out of nowhere, one begins to close off to the other. Maybe they are fearful, maybe they need to be in control, maybe they are wanting more... so they stop giving. The other person may respond by pulling away too. They may begin to mirror what the other is doing -  mirroring the fearful person and in that way they are bringing themselves down to that level… to protect themselves it seems. And then a drama begins with both people fighting for affection, both unwilling to give freely like before. One concludes to only give when the other gives and take away as much as the other takes away…

But in unconditional love...

The person who is less fearful first says "here -  have the energy you want from me. Take it"

Then they intern turn around and refill elsewhere from other things they have happening in their lives – other things that bring them that needed love and joy and completeness. They have no need to fight for that limited source of love. And this means they can give freely without expectation or need of receiving anything back. Sure, they too could start getting a bit fearful and can’t help but want to mirror their partner but this is unconditional love – it sets no conditions. It gives first and carries on doing so. It flourishes when mutual but shines more when tested. That’s where its strength is and so it grows…”

the true Ms Bride

And so while I sit in a pond of growing debt, I cant help but wonder on choices made and on what the important things in life really are.

How is it that we define our happiness on the things we have? What happened to the days when simple was king and bargain was the plan? I suppose things like that were long trodden on by hungry profit makers and those who could not be bothered by the weeklings that gained most from the bargains and the simples.

There are 5 of us near me and while unspoken, I cant help but wonder if the long anticipated excitement was just another page of that fairytale stuff – who was the idiot that started on that ideal anyway?! On the carpet on yet another rainy day, the teacher would sit there and read to us of princess after princess whose biggest concern was some spell and step mother. Why did those stories not come with some sort of disclaimer to say while such concerns where unreal – what was to be expected was far more worse. Someone should have told us – together with other impressions given by such stories – that there would be no fairy godmother to fix, there would be no spell to break and there would defiantly be no prince to take it all away with a kiss. I say someone should have sat us down in the very next class to tell of what we would face instead.

We sat there and had our eyes glaze over at dreams of fairytales of our own. We were allowed to carry on and no one of the adult population dared to pop this bubble. Instead we sat in high school in time consuming guidance lessons on yet another SWOT analysing session (how the hell do I SWOT this!!!????). Somebody should have told us – told ME that I would one day be sitting in this puddle and while the first reaction would be to panic and maybe even try to bury my head in the sand – the best cause of action at this point would be to put on the damn tight swimming cap and hope I did enough breathing techniques to last me through this sea of the damed.

This is no longer a puddle and debt is not my problem! this has become a damn sea of untolds and the key, i hear, is to swim along…

Hi, my name is Ms Bride and I see a bridge to jump off… looking at the other 5, I ask – do you wanna join me?

Find me at the bus stop!

Its been a good 5 months since the “knock” and looking back, I would like to think that I walk towards the exit sign a calmer, more mature psycho then I was going in.
It is said that: what doesn’t kill us only makes us stronger… I'm not sure if that is quite correct but I would like to rather put it as: what doesn’t kill us, changes us - and that is what I believe has happened to me.

Granted, my tolerance levels have dropped but, gone are the days when I walked around clueless and less afflicted by my surroundings. Through it all, I managed to come out of all this able to discuss it calmly and still manage to smile honestly. I would like to think that I have become more appreciative and that FINALLY – I realize where my value and valuables are at.

I love the look of confidence that I give to my minders. The look that says: I know you thought I wouldn’t but I did – and while I'm at it – don’t I look great? Lol

No. Honestly, umm I have gone through most of my existence with a band of minders who I know have waited in bated breath for the time when I will rise no more. I have known for some time that, it is not all that smile my way who do so simply as an honest feeling but more like a search to see if I will return a smile back… and well I do – honestly and for the first time it feels good.

Why it happens though is beyond me. Why is it that we thrive on the afflictions of others? Why is it that we wait for our enviers to fall before we feel like we have made it/ that we can make it?

I'm ready.
I'm ready to do honest and straight.
I'm ready to let in essential and remove all dirt – with pride too I may add.

Amongst all the  **** that came in with the “knock”, I have found that it brought a sense of freedom too. Freedom from the things I thought defined me. From the things that I held so tightly to, bounded by the idea that they make me – they didn’t! They don’t! 

A psycho I remain but one with more depth and understanding…  

Now at the brink of yet another different direction I take, I cant help but be filled with the hopes for a better rest of my life. There will be, yes, moments of pure panic (like only I can do them) and tones more tears but I'm sure ill be just fine.

Standing at the street corner waiting for the next ride into new experiences, I have my shoes polished, my lunch packed and a broad smile on my face…

“I will prove them wrong”, I muse.

Time has come for GoT to explore the other side of things and it starts her…

                                Taking the plunge from Miss Ree to a freaking fancy MRS REE!!!

the silly crush...

At exactly 3:30pm every single week day, I would find some reason to pass in front of our gate or be out side doing something I couldn’t explain. This would be coupled with a fresh coat of lip-gloss and a quick run through my hair as I tried hard not to look up before the strategically planed moment to get that eye contact. In my carefully selected outfit and ever so casual look, I waited in bated breath for him to pass.

*Deep breath* there he comes. Down the road he approached and had this thing going on about the way he walked. You know how those slow motion moments are played out in the movies? This was something of the sort and with every step he took, my heart beats faster and I take in the moment of sheer adolescent indulgence.

He walks by with out a word and as soon as he disappears into his yard, I float back into the house to new versions of the ongoing fantasy in my mind when he will finally pass by and say “Hi – what’s up?”

Shooo I would die.

i was 15 and there was a wonderful creation living next door. Crazy how these things work themselves out and thoughts about that now leave me giggling at my crazy 15-year-old self.

Boy am I glad that time is over and done with.

A girl friend and I started chatting on What’sApp and she was going on and on about the crazy bug that bit her. She was mentioning all these possibilities that could happen if this and that were to happen. She animatedly went on about a future that involved this individual and I couldn’t help but giggle at how silly she was sounding. And then, the dreaded thing happened.

I asked “…so what does he say to all these ideas of yours?”

Her answer “…SAY?????? He says nothing! I have never spoken to him!”

My reaction: I laughed so hard and praised the fact that this conversation was over social networking because that allowed me the comfort of laughing my head off at my friend, without her seeing me and simply sending her an LOL knowing her feelings wont be that hurt!

Here was a fully grown women behaving in a way that was identical to the 15 year old me and she didn’t even realise it.

There should be some sort of treatment from crushes as they lead one to behave in crazy ways. There were so many times I did crazy things to get the boy’s attention besides the obvious. The obvious, of course, would be to walk up to him and say hi. I would pass in his gaze a couple of times hoping he would see me and not anything else behind me or in my direction. These sort of things came coupled with thoughts of what-ifs and could-be’s. It kept me happy. If fuelled the fantasies and kept me content.

How is it though that we get like this when it comes to matters of the heart? No one is ever sure about how exactly it should be. We all have some sort of idea yes that we dish out it bucket loads to others but truth be told – there really isn’t a one-solution-for-all-situations kind of thing.

The way I see it, its either there or not. If he keeps passing you by the gate everyday and doesn’t bother to say ‘hi’ (even if for just being polite), then its time to recast the main man in your fantasies… a new guy who will even see you. Of cause this would have been great had someone told 15-year-old me as it would have saved my growing heart from what was to happen a few weeks later followed by even more idiotic versions of my fantasies…

… so on that day, as with the other days, I waited outside for him to pass. This time though he didn’t come alone. He had a GIRL with him. Hand around waist and irritating giggles coming from her as she enjoyed what should have been mine. Oh how my heart broke as I disappeared into our yard with plans of revenge. After I had calmed down, I did the most logical thing…

Fantasy continued: she had blackmailed him and he had no choice but to be with her. Deep down, he wanted me!

Of cause what had happened was obvious: SOMEONE ELSE BEAT ME TO APPROACHING HIM AND SAYING ‘HI’…

Girl on the fence

We have always been told that this is how the order of things goes and we should not rock the boat but comply.

That’s all good and well with things that make sense but as it goes with me - like the other millions of things in my head, I cant help but question this and wonder of my sanity for even wanting to change it.

A girl SHOULD wanna get married and she SHOULD have it in her to take care of the man she loves and help him build a warm home for the both of them. Sure, this girl also does have the choice to remain single and focus on other things and gone are the times when society would frown upon such a decision. What happens though when this said girl simply wants to love her man and skip the whole taking care of him part?

See, here I refer to a girl who although being capable of doing the caring thing, wishes she could rather skip it. Reasons? Fear I suppose. Fear of the unknown. Fear of the women she has to turn out to be when looking at the perfect patrial her mother has set. Why could it not be that girl love her man but stay at her own place and take care of herself ONLY?

Its an awkward place to be yes since all around her all the other girls are doing just what is expected of them. They get married. They bare children. They pine away if not married with anticipation and hope. They firmly stand by the choice to leave it all behind and handle it with simple grace. And then there is this girl that is sitting on the fence – quite comfortably too if I may add. Fence though starts to poke at here when the stares and frowns make her shift around uncomfortably realizing that she has to make a choice that she will have to stick with for a life time: love her man AND take care of him OR leave it all behind and run at it alone forever.

Imagine the looks when girl gets off the fence….

In under tones they whisper and point wondering why she has decided on that side of the fence. It becomes the talk of the town and there is such an unnecessary vibe around the side of the fence girl is walking around on. What happens next shocks the masses the most…

Girl climbs back on the fence and sits…

(see girl needed a glass of water and she got down to go get. As to the side of the fence she decided to jump into to get the water – well that was all depending on which side she was facing when she got extremely thirsty…)

The crazy hype that just happens goes on to prove my point and make my resolve super difficult - We have always been told that this is how the order of things goes and we should not rock the boat but comply.

All I can do at this point is fight hard the urge to rock the damn boat and hope everyone else holds on really tight!

Case of Money Maker sorted!

I'm a big girl. I shall not be bitter.

I shall not show a hint of bitterness cause my mama taught me better then that…

Oh hell – who am I fooling?

It totally grinds me see how certain things tend to fall into the laps of some people. Take our secretary for example. So she landed a huge Money Maker husband and just got a bra nd new Toyota J-something (first ever that I have seen). How the hell did she manage that? (pulling out my notebook to take notes).

There are those days when I honestly wonder if it even is worth it. This is usually on those days when I look back on how long I have been at this and notice how the most I have managed to get actually, has been low levels of joy. I also want a J-something and the feeling of coming to work yet knowing so well that I actually don’t have to. I wanna be a jumper lady too (the tiny ladies that JUMP off from their huge cars). I think it is the ideal that most of us girls have – to either land that huge Money Maker hubby or do it all for ourselves. (Looking at the statistics though of the number of ELIGIBLE Money Makers left kinda  cuts my options in a huge way).

And so (as the most reasonable option), I start on the personal missions to get there all on my own. There are many evenings that I can barely make it through the door before I collapse on my couch breathless from the day’s hustles. I believe I have pushed it good so far and while I may not be where I really want to be, I know I'm pretty comfortable. Yet see, this comfort range tends to bring with it a certain dependency that leaves you wanting more. Oh hell! I'm not even 25 yet and here I am with a DEPENDENCY.

 He will get me that J-something and he will get me that Top Billing house. Yet what more does he give?

I then decide to take a closer look at my new mentor (like how I have been taught) and wonder if really these are the kind of notes I should be taking.

It’s the mornings of swollen eyes and snap backs that have me thinking twice. We hear of door slams, and being kicked out of the house or the “I don’t care” attitude that is at times gets dragged along with to the office after yet another morning of hectic words being thrown to-and-fro that actually have me taking a step back. (did Money Maker buy her a house that came with a lunatic?)

This situation screams new facts that Mrs Money Maker fails to mention. See, along with the J-something, the mansion and the fully loaded walk in closets, comes great sacrifices to some of the essentials that ironically cant even be charged to that platinum card. It’s the constant shows we have played out infront of our eyes and the flashed fake smiles that have me seeing things in a new light and teaches a great lesson.

All the seemingly good stuff that we have flashed before our eyes comes at a certain price. If its not the selling of your soul to be their slave in terms of maintaining and acquiring more, its in the drained levels of joy that often lead to the swollen eyes. I think of the cross legged moment I had with Mr Man recently while sharing a McFlurry and remember how at that moment – I knew I was the happiest girl ever – would Money Maker be able to ensure such or would he be rushing of to yet another deal signing and ridiculous amounts of Champaign?

Don’t get me wrong – its great cushions to have (that sure would make the next planned girls road trip that much better) but I suppose the real question here comes down to this – AT WHAT COST?

I think I would like more the comforts of the layed back Sunday afternoon in the arms of Mr Man. I think I would prefer more a life time of calm sortings of our issues and not being made to feel like I'm only sticking around because of prenuptial Mrs Money Maker had to sign. And while ‘jumping-off’ would be a great past time, I would eventually have to go home and face my reality which unfortunately can not be replaced by a new one at the swipe of that card.

And so as I smile to myself at the ever so grown up conclusions that I have come up with – I pull out this weeks Watchtower Study article and eagerly look forward to the readings on “God’s Rest”

Girl-On-Top leaves these thoughts behind with a great lesson learned and an appreciation of the plans she has aligned for a future that will defiantly give that joy scale a wake up bashing and see it fly off far far away…

I believe I know I'm content!

A freaking change (lol)

I sat across a table populated by 3 of my best girl pals (the essentials) and I watched them laugh and shake their heads when I went into yet another fit about marriage.
“how the hell am I supposed to be ok with seeing this person EVERY SINGLE MOMENT of my evenings – which I have come to love as either quiet and calm while curled on my favourite spot on my couch OR being in track suits, duster in hand with Maroon 5’s Misery track blasting through my head phones while cleaning and dancing around in moves that my mirror and eyes have agreed are the best ever. And now I would just have this person in my space and face the whole time and I would have no option of either him or me getting up, kissing them goodnight and going home – to my place”
I think without realizing it, I built a really good comfortable relationship with being single and having my own space that an invasion to that almost seems unbearable. I love the idea of doing whatever whenever and not having to clear it with the other person first. Oh the horror of having to share the bed I have loved rolling in all night long and the thought of HAVING to make supper even if I don’t feel like supper. Oh man the pains of being a women confused and conformed by a modern society.
The girls all took turns trying to convince me that this picture I was painting should not be as bleak as I have made it.
“It’s not that bad!” my have-been-there-done-it-before friend speaks out. “When you love someone enough to marry them, you will love spending most of your space with them. If your relationship is healthy, you should never really get tired of being around them...”
“what...”, I answered while the look of horror gets worse followed by confusion and lack of understanding.
“well, you can take moments to do your own thing by yourself every once in a while,” another friend adds, “but it won’t be as bad as what you are saying”
I take a a HUGE gulp of the drink I was having and start to wonder if this is a sign of love-lacking on my part since clearly this “little technicality” seems to be too huge for ME to ignore.
Two days later and I still ponder on that conversation. Am I the only one who has a sort of problem with this? As much as I love my guy and I do get that the logical goal being chased here is marriage, I can’t help but worry a bit about the major changes that would have to take place with those 3 words (“yes I do”). I worry about the fact that I SHOULD be looking forward to all of this and it worries me a whole lot more when I think of the disapproving looks I get when I do mention these fears to some people.
Oh the morning rushes after being subjected to being seen at my grumpiest and with my pillow creased cheeks and blind feeling around while I try making it to the bathroom while making sure to open my eyes not much more then what is truly needed to get me there.
“its not that I don’t like my guy or anything”, I try to defend, “I just am not so thrilled at the prospect of the space invasion I imagine happening at that time”.
Then, while still kinda lost in thought about this dilemma of mine, I look up at him while he makes me a cup of coffee. He looks back at me, smiles and warms up the milk just for me. When all that was done, he gets closer, lets me lie on his chest and runs his hand across my back and kisses my forehead.

“so this is what you are freaking out about?”, the little voice in my head says and I smile realising the point and knowing that at that moment, there is nowhere else I would rather be then right here with him, in my space _ FOREVER!