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!

The new book – INTRO page

29 March 2010, I started this blog while deep in the throws of a challenging moment in my world. Looking back at all the posts – the laughs, smiles, anger and pain – tells me that this has been one heck of a journey filled with experiences and appreciations.
29 July 2011, I stand at the brink of a new page or rather – a new book.
The prospect of a blank book that needs to be filled is both scary and exciting...
I look at the pile of books near me and I smile thinking of some of the situations that had me closing the currently opened one and starting a new one – 5 in total and I’m not even 25 yet!
“wow...”, I think when reminded of all the moments – including glasses of wine, crying marathons, fits of laughter (at the stupidity of the situation), burgers and sleep overs - it took to get me here.

I am grown!

Not so much age wise but more so experience wise. There is only so much bad dates and terrible hair days that a girl can go through and not finally get the hang of things (inbox me for tips). I have learned lessons too and I am wiser and CALMER. I fit comfortably in my shape and I openly let down the guard when around the ESSENTIALS, happy that its with them that I have found my good place.
I also finally have found my feet with new love. Gone are the days when I would have to stuff forcibly all the insecurities so I can present a SEEMINGLY polished version of me to him – holding my breath that he doesn’t see the rust and run. Now, I sit back and watch them jump into this box I have laid out. They seem to agree that they are no longer needed and bow out gracefully allowing me no choice but to be a deeply polished me – refined I said!
Now – the cover of this new book has a different look. I hope you all will approve of the new look of the blog and look ahead to posts about love, life and the girls I love.

This is: CONFESSIONS OF A GIRL ON TOP – Musings of a 24 year old!

Realizations done and appriciation grows!

There would always be a certain bad boy flair about him that made me sit up and stay interested. He would be the type to push boundaries and although he wasn’t at a level to be written off as bad-a$$ yet, he would have that slightly rude thing about him and could tell it off while remaining calm.

“its exciting” I would shout at my brain when it protested.

“live a little” I would plead with it and while it carried on to fight and resist this as much as it could, my heart and I were doing love dances all over and would so many times be left gasping for what would come next to take us on this high we had become addicted to.

This would be the one major characteristic about the guys I would date. “anything else would be a bore” I would defend.

“besides, he is not all bad...” I would continue while hiding the other incident where this particular one through risk out the window when he decided to kiss me while driving at speeds over 100 km/h one evening.

Yep, this is the type that I would be attracted to. It was the rush of not being ruled by rules that I loved most and the tendency to question them was a direction I would be heading in. “this is my true calling...” I through at my mind during another heated attempt to get me to see reason!

Until it all changed one day when finally after the hundredth time, I failed to find the strength to stand up after this type had thrown me to the floor AGAIN and didn’t even care to stop and see if I was ok.

“its exciting remember?” my mind mocked while sending out reinforcements to mop up the mess that this type had left.

For the longest time, I failed to understand this. How is it that after all that I had given this type, it never stopped to see if I was ok? Why was it that I finally hit rock bottom with no ability to dust myself off and get back on to this rollercoaster I had come to love and feed off?  I had it all planned out and yet at that very moment, I sat in a pile on the floor unable to piece it all together as to where it went wrong.

Out of pity, I assume, my brain came to sit and keep me company while I sat, lost in why’s maybe’s and other themes to my pity parties.

“allow me to explain this”, my brain started in a grown up serious tone, “there comes a time in a person’s life, when the real things in life become recognised. To some, it comes quickly and simply, yet for others, such as yourself, lessons need to be learned and realizations have to be made...”

The conversation carried on for days, only stopping to refuel. My mind seemed mature and grown. It made points that made things make sense. It allowed for questions and comforted me at times when the realizations came hard and fast yet it never judged me for the roads taken or choices made.

Many many many days later, this is the truth that my mind (through the strongest type of divine intervention, I believe) has helped me realize:

In the quest to find and define ourselves, we fall prey to what SEEMS like the type that we should become. We etch it deep in our minds and even go as far as fighting off any kind of different reasons that may threaten this. Yet, after all has been said and done, its the same things that we all strive for. We all want to be loved and taken care of. We all want security and comfort when things get bad. As exciting as it may seem to live on the edge sometimes, that it NOT the type of thing that builds futures and brings off well meaning and stable people. it keeps things good yes, great even, but if its a type that does not give in return  or is still on a quest to fulfil its own needs at whatever the cost, then maybe its not the TYPE I should be hanging out with. Having gone through this does not make me a failure. No! It instead makes me a better version of myself – an appreciative kind. It makes me real because now, I’m not caught up in some lost sense of myself but rather in a sense that has so much more to give! And when one stumbles upon ummmm not a TYPE but rather an INDIVIDUAL who sees and appreciates this – one should let go of pasts and longings, put on their big, mature and comfortable girl panties and allow for things that may come, to come. Now that to me sounds exciting!

After endless grinnings and all good and fuzzy feelings inside, I pick up my phone and type it in...

“you loving me feels amazing and yes.... I NEED you...”

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*smile*

1 year, 4 months and 29 days!

1 year, 4 months and 29 days – that is how long it took this nightmare to finally end. 1 year, 4 months and 29 days – I counted!

I sat at the meetings yesterday and I couldn’t help but feel tears burn my eyes and this need to go curl up in some corner and process all things. I finally calmly stood up and walked out to go have a private talk with the only person who understood what was happening inside of me.

“Its finally over,” I silently whispered, knowing that who that was meant for would hear me.

“it has been a long time coming,” the conversation carried on, and for the next 20 minutes all I could do was stand there in that private space and allow my heart to bubble forth all that it was trying to string up to make up proper sentences. (how grateful I am that this person I was trying to communicate with was a master at reading hearts and putting inaudible and jumbled up sentence together).

This has been a long journey. A journey filled with hard lessons, strengthened relations, many sleepless nights and desperate pleadings to anybody who would bother to take a moment and hear me. I fought and lost many battles during this time and I have watched many walk away from me when they assumed I was too much of a mess for them to handle. I have harboured bitter resentment and even managed to get myself slapped around a couple of times by my inner self when it had finally grown tired of the bundle of mess that I had become.

I let a few go too – a type of lesson that I suppose could only be taught this way. Its amazing how fast this type scatters when things start to fall apart.

I found that inner strength that people in those talk shows usually go on about. My inner strength tho came in the form of two enemies who both pulled at me in different directions and at times all I could do was listen in while they had one of their usual screaming contests. Each claimed that they knew what was best for me. There were times when the ganged up on me tho and times when they screamed at me and threatened me when they too grew tired of this bundle of mess that was Me. Cindy and Habit, I called them.

Lessons came too – hard and fast with power relations forged with a few people in my circle that I call the ESSENTIALS. This is a group of people that took my late night calls. They stayed up and listened to me rumble on and on and at times they spat words hard to hear and truths tough to swallow. I didn’t like them much then but I know they meant well. *thinking of B who made me cry one night* To Ms thing, Lady B and Ms LoydBanks herself – MUCH LOVE and APPRICIATION. Look what all of you have done – *raised wine glass and a bow of respect to each of you*

1 year, 4 months and 29 days is how long it took and its finally done.

I know where I am going. The email I sent this morning tells me so. There are no more tears for this and no more regrets here.

With the last final bow, I finally take this closed chapter and throw it in the huge barn fire that I have made for all the pain, hurt, resentment, hate and tear jerking memories. Its done. Its closed and finally burned from existence.

I take a deep breath, say a final “Thank you” to the person I have been silently speaking to and walk back into the hall to join in on the song of praise. I look back, catch his eye and wink at him while I smile and sort it all into words so I can tell him all about it later!

(You should meet him... he is amazing!)

Love is like a motorcycle ride

This is my true and honest confession: I am a self proclaimed ROMANTIC junkie who has gone as far as deciding how she would like the order of things to go so as to merit as ALLOWABLE and ACCEPTED.

And then the problem sets in:

We live in the year 2011 where regardless of how well thought out things may be, they never really do end up happening like that and if they do – exactly point for point as set out – then you may find yourself with even bigger problems.

I am a passionate mental doodler and in my mind, things should happen in this manner:

·         We would meet

·         I would eventually agree to drinks/lunch/supper

·         I would conclude that he is ok and agree to a second date

·         4 successful dates later and we would do the exclusive thing

·         2-3 successful years later and we would do the marriage thing

{Tune in a great sound track and all is well with the world}

And here I am…. Struggling to keep up with my own mental notes.

Feels a lot like riding a motorcycle for the first time (not that I have but I imagine it would be something like this): As great as the ride is going, I am stuck on making sure that my helmet is on securely and ensuring that my knee pads don’t slip of.  I have a check list that I'm trying to tick off as we pass mile stone after mile stone. On top of all of that, is the worry of where the bike is headed. The ironical part of it all is – regardless of all my inhibitions… this bike moves and it doesn’t do easy and slow. It roars to life and promises a thrill rush – helmet or not.

If there are some things that I'm learning during the bike ride, one of them would be: that the best bike rides have no planned routes. They don’t do list-tick-offs or being subjected to controlled doses. This is LOVE and it does not do rules. It over whelms and excites. It takes over you like a high tide wave and evokes a rush of weird, amazing, great and breath taking emotions all at once. Coupled with attraction it promises an even wilder experience that does not wait for you to give permission – it takes over and while it can leave you unravelled, it does promise you a thrill rush – list or not.

So being long overdue at this stage: here is a new mental doodle in tune with the times:

·         We would meet

·         Hang on tight and let whatever completely take over…

So while I sit safely behind the driver of this bike, I let my helmet fall off and let the air through my hair. The thought at that very moment (besides how great it feels to be close to him) is: I know I will love where this bike is going to stop