Lose The Labels-Ignorance Is Not Bliss


Allow me to let you in on a not so well-kept secret about me. A personal truth that has grown so critical to me that I can’t keep my mouth shut about it; it’s a deal breaker. I won’t long waste time on someone who can’t refrain from this shitty little habit.

I. Hate. Labels.

I’ve worn them in the past, stuck them onto the backs of others, and agreed with people when they’ve done the same. It’s bullshit. A weak, mindless method, of not having to think for yourself, or differentiate between one human being vs another based on each individual’s merit.

Racist. Criminals. Tight. Terrorists. Lazy. Ignorant. Parasites of society. Selfish. Gay. Crazy. Illegals. Democrat. Republican.

I’m so over hearing that all women are this way, all men are that way, this generation is worthless, this music doesn’t qualify, these beliefs are not just opinion, but fact.

I’m a blonde by choice, and I can assure you, I don’t have more fun, and I’m not a bimbo. I’m female, but I am neither weak and clingy, nor am I a “ball-buster” (although I have played both parts on occasion). I believe that men and woman are of equal importance, without saying we are equal, when I see us as two critical components bearing different gifts to make the world a safe and beautiful place.

I’m also from the midwest bible belt, born and raised. I am not, however, a bible thumping, red-neck, hay seed, back woods dumb ass without a clue of what goes on in the world around me. I don’t care what color my friends are, who they pray to, who they want to marry or have sex with, or what they do for a living. I love them for their hearts, and expect them to offer me the same in return.

I don’t care if you choose to have sex with 10 people at once, and I don’t expect you to care if I choose not to. I don’t judge you if you’re covered in tattoos and wouldn’t expect you to care that I’m not. You may judge me for my white bread, vanilla flavored appearance, but you don’t know my heart or mind, so your assumptions are flawed, endless and clueless.

I keep an open mind, and an open heart, and if you can’t see past what I look like, or dress like, or my accent or my lack of street cred, then for god’s sake pass on by and I promise you, I’ll be the better for it. I have friends all over the world whom I love dearly, and some of the shit I hear spouting from the uneducated and unaware just chaps my ass. Yes, I just said that.

Before you mock me, or anyone else, I suggest you find what it is in you that needs to feel wise and all-knowing.

In many ways, I’ve lived a sheltered life. Go ahead and hold your breath if you expect me to apologize for that. I freely admit I have by no means tried everything I’ve heard around me. Some I will, some I won’t, some I haven’t decided yet. Leave it to me, because your opinion doesn’t count here.

It is a harsh thing to hear someone’s opinion on your life when they have no clue what you’ve put yourself through to make someone happy, to make a relationship work, to give someone everything they say they want…and it isn’t enough. It’s a shame you don’t know the damage you do to a heart that has taken responsibility for itself and made every effort to fix and build on something that turns out to be quicksand. It’s a sad thing to know that someone has blinded themselves to the potential of you with their own asinine conclusions of what must be true according to them.

I may embarrass easily, or get flustered, or not know the latest terminology for fuck you sideways according to the Urban dictionary. If that’s what it takes to impress you…then fuck you. Look that up.

So this is what you can take from this. I hate labels. I won’t wear them. I won’t use them. I’ve got a pile of them growing, and a match to burn whatever bridges necessary using them as tinder.

Get a clue. Get over yourself. Let the rest of us be who we are without drilling us with your ignorance.

Labels suck. Lose them. Please.

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Heart Blind


If you love someone,

you must look beyond

how you believe

you should love them,

lay aside your assumptions

of what you think they should accept,

step outside of yourself

and what you’ve been led to believe,

and see them as they are.

Honor their boundaries,

let them come to you freely,

respect the private places

of their soul

and let your quiet calm call forth

the pieces they can share

without pain.

If you love them don’t assume

that making yourself feel better

gives them what they need

from you,

don’t disguise self gratification

as selfless gifting,

sacrifice your ego to give them

the safe place

they’ve never had from another.

If you love them,

let your hands

be open and still,

your heart softly welcoming

and your eyes

free of judgment.

If you love them, look beyond

your own reflection

in their eyes and see them,

with a heart

that is no longer

blind.

Mi Oso Grunendo- My Growling Bear


He rose up, towering over her,

snarling and ferocious,

claws sharp and extended,

teeth bared and dangerous, dripping

with hurt and ego and confusion…

she stood trembling

before him,

inches away from destruction,

refusing to back down

from the terrifying fire in his eyes…

and instead of stepping back

she stepped forward,

breathing in the vicious smell of past

betrayals and disillusionment

that clung to his fur

and caused his nostrils to flare

in an agony of regret…

and in his eyes

the flame of rejection burning bright

in them, she saw clearly

a flicker of doubt

in the face of her determination…

so she stepped courageously

one step closer to danger,

certain that if she didn’t

refuse to quit loving him, he would

die angry, and alone,

not knowing that she saw past

everything he threw out to save himself

from being loved by a woman

who wouldn’t

leave.

The Warning


Beware the bite of apathy,

the slow, and welcome poison spreading

false comfort through the tiny fractures

of your heart…

Insidious and tempting with the numbing

of your pain, at the cost

of removing all color from the joys

of living…

Beware the building of your walls

to keep the snarling tigers

and their claws

from tearing you down,

blind to the truth that you are building

your own prison,

keeping yourself hidden inside as surely

as you keep others out

of your heart…

Beware the belittling

that bickers through your mind

fed through self-doubt and self-lies

that whisper to you

that you are not strong enough

to stand in this world

with an open heart, and open arms…

Beware of all these things that steal

your power, and stand courageously

in the face of

the pain that beats at you,

and love without reservation

no matter what the cost…

because somewhere out there,

Is a brave and battle-scarred warrior,

with a fierce and raging heart,

making his way

to you.

Why we stay


In a late night conversation, a friend of mine challenged my perception of how and when a relationship ends, if it does. We see ourselves as unappreciated, overworked, and overlooked. If this is the truth we live, then the question is…

Why do we stay?

He shared another insight, hard learned, that asked the question, “What are you getting out of this?”. It seems that if we are not getting something, whatever that is, out of a relationship, we would leave. So what is it that we’re getting from our circumstances that keeps us here? It has to be something, or we would have already moved on, right?

We can disguise it as many things, but the bottom line is that staying is giving us something we think we need. What would that be I wonder? Are we proud of ourselves for preserving a family unit, or feel the need for the security of having someone no matter what? Are we afraid we won’t find what we’re looking for when we leave, so it’s safer to stay? Is it easier for us to be the martyr, the saint or the victim rather than walking out the door and building a life worth waking up for?

Is it ego, guilt, or fear?

We may tell ourselves it’s better to face the devil we know. We may have developed some god complex and decided we can change them, change us, change the relationship by creating, by the force of our will, the life we think we want. We may tell ourselves that we’re taking one for the team by not disappointing our family, friends, our children, or the picture we have of ourselves. We may tell ourselves that we don’t want to be another failure.

Failure is in the dishonesty to self, the suppression of the heart of us, the lack of belief in ourselves that we can live fully.

It’s a hard thing to know, to swallow, that we’ve let ourselves stay for the children, the public perception, the fear, the ego denying that we can fail at yet another endeavor. It’s sickening to know that at any point in time…Any. Point. In. Time. We had the power to walk away and begin building on ourselves instead of the foundation of another.

We are the only ones who could’ve changed the Cinderella story. But we chose not to.

There doesn’t need to be a villain. It can simply be two very good people who chose partners not suited for their growing into their best selves. It can be something as simple as the wrong choice to lead us through years of struggle, fury, and pain. It can be that our Garanimal tags didn’t match and we did it anyway, leading us down the fruitless trail of trying to change each other to make us match.

The wrong ingredients make the most delicious dish into a poisonous brew. One that paralyzes, and dims the intellect, and raises excuses against any movement towards change. The kind of slop thousands of us feed each other every day under the guise of support and motivation.

I learned something about myself a few weeks ago when I wanted to run home to pick up a package that had been delivered. I never leave work during the day, ever. It’s such a pain to get caught back up when I get back. So I just never leave, I don’t go to lunch, I don’t run errands, I just stay for the duration without break. I repeat this drivel to my friend who just says “Do It”.

So I did…

And the most amazing thing happened as I was driving down the road, away from work, heading home. I laughed my ass off. You would have thought I’d just pulled off The Shawshank Redemption. It was ridiculous how happy it made me to do something as simple as stepping out of the shit and doing something I wanted just for the hell of it. It made me realize something important.

We spend too much time doing what we are “supposed to” do, and not enough time stepping into the joy of life.

The reasons we stay when there is no hope for change or growth, are not good enough. They are in fact deadly to our souls. Our reasons, numb us, put us to sleep, suffocate us, and kill the things that make us who we are. They are excuses to explain cowardice and a lack of belief in ourselves.

Can we see this now? Can we see the hypocrisy of our words in the choices we make for ourselves? Once you know what’s wrong, my friend says, you are no longer a victim. We become a perpetuator of our own pathetic story of what isn’t the way it should be. We are the ones holding us back, keeping us down. No one else is doing it to us.

Now, here we are again. What will it be? We can stay, and if we do it’s because we choose to stay, for whatever reason we give ourselves to make it right in our own minds. We can decide to keep playing the game. But it is a decision we make, not a thing that happens to us. So own it.

Or we can pull a Shawshank Redemption and take the first steps towards seeing clearly and choosing differently for ourselves. We can loosen one little spoonful of dirt at a time and carry it out with us in a finely tuned plan for freedom. Or if it works, we can blast our way out all at once and say fuck it. We each created our own road, our own prison, our own lives.

All of the power needed to change us, to change where we are and how we live, is within us.

So ask yourself this…why do you stay?

Pull Me Into You


The next time you reach for me,

pull me into you

close enough that my fingers

can trace the scars

of all the things that caused you pain…

Let me stroke love

into the hurting things,

and press light, with my fingertips

into the darkest places of you

that no one waits

long enough to see…

Let my lips reverently brush

across the numb and damaged places,

give my love a moment to sink into

those parts of you

that never thought to feel again.

Let my hands smooth away

the harshness of disappointments

too often inflicted on hope,

and feel my arms wrap around you,

holding on to the parts of you,

barely breathing,

that make you everything worth holding…

Let me breathe love

into you

and stare into your eyes

while I sink the heart of me

into your mind so bright and doubtful…

And so, my love, I ask you this…

the next time you reach for me,

let me pull you into the storm of a heart

so full of you that you are healed

by the very act

of my holding you,

you are strengthened by the truth

that I will never falter…

Just pull me into you.