May 17, 2014 |
Last week on my personal Facebook profile, I changed my relationship from “single” to “it’s complicated”.
It’s Complicated.
No photos. No names. I’m not one to spill intimate details. I like to protect the privacy of the people who choose to expose themselves to a writer’s life ~ this writer’s life.The family I’m born into and gave birth to don’t have much say on the matter. But the ones who have a choice . . . those are the ones I admire. The ones who are strong enough to stick around when the word goes to print. The ones who don’t unfriend me on Facebook because they see the struggle between who I am and who I want to be, and the dichotomy between my very personal and sometimes public life.
Last week, my two worlds collided in a very unexpected manner. An old friend came to town. We went out. And then he said it. It. Those three little words that every woman loves to hear from the man she wants to want her in return.
Complicated? I’ll say so. There are many dynamics [read: hurdles] we would have to conquer to make a relationship work. Those are the private moments. But we’re talking. We’re sharing. We’re growing closer. That’s the public life.
He’s not perfect. [He had the nerve to ask “Why Toronto?” when discussing travel destinations.] He doesn’t drink coffee as much as I do. [That’s okay, I’ll have his share.] But he likes cats. He encourages my writing. And he’s taller than me. [Yes, mother, when I’m 5’8″, a man who can tower over me is a nice thing!]
I’m not perfect. I cry too much. I told him I hated him for holding my hand. I told him I was going to write every flaw and fight for dramatic content, of course. I drink his coffee and eat his chocolate. I order before he looks at the menu. But he likes me anyway.
It’s too soon to know if I’m blessed with this man or if we’ll end up hurting each other. I do know we’ve been friends for such a ridiculously long time it would be impossible to leave him completely. Right now, our complicated promise is only this:
Don’t Leave. Period.
The rest we’ll either figure out or we won’t. We’re not in a rush to make it work or find out it won’t. For This Girl, who thrives on stability and steadiness, this uncertainty is new. I’m used to being alone, solitary, not asking for help with decision making or planning someone else’s social schedule. This is familiarly new to me.
Is he a good catch? I think so. I’ve always thought so. Except for those in-between times when we’ve danced around each other’s lives with someone else. Except for those in-between years when we forgot we liked each other. After all this time, we are in the same place at the same time. And it’s complicated. Because it’s not.
It’s a little terrifying. A lot satisfying. And pretty much the reason I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep in a week.
I want to make sure I’m not using him for his attentions. Let’s face it–who doesn’t love some nice “You look good” and “Have a chocolate” stuff. He deserves more than me just wanting his attentions. He deserves me wanting him completely, as he says, “warts and all”.
And so I’m praying. I’m praying for clarity and direction and all the things a person prays about in a relationship. I’m praying to be able to keep God first not just in this, but in every relationship. I desire God to be above all else in my household. I crave a man who is so in love with the Lord that he forgets I’m in the room.
It’s so complicated. I don’t want a guy to replace God as my Head of Household.
And in the quiet of the late night, when the rest of the world is gone and asleep and I’m left alone after hanging up the phone and My Complicated is far away, I hear God saying, “I’m still here.”
That folks, is what we in the writing world call “the hook” or “the cliffhanger”. Come back tomorrow for the rest of the story.
And Frankly, My Dear . . . That’s all she wrote!
You may also enjoy reading:
Apologetic
I’m Afraid of My Own Succcess
May 16, 2014 |
Five Things Friday at Frankly, My Dear…
This week’s Five Things Friday is all about experiences. Those moments that are more than moments. Those times that leave more than memories. This week’s post is about the whole kit-and-caboodle.
Because I write (or perhaps influencing the way I write), life is more than just passing time. I love to absorb everything about everything. I want to relive it completely: the look, the feel, the sight, the smell, the sound. I enjoy watching strangers and making up stories about them. I like discovering the nitty-gritty of what makes people tick.
And while I’m healthiest when I’m writing, there are a handful of experiences I would love to be able to write about but haven’t yet.
These are my Five Things Friday Experiences.
1. National Police Week. My good friend Danny lost his brother nearly two years ago. [Read Dear Amy, I’m Just So Sorry For Your Loss.] Pat’s wife, Amy, and their four children continue to be a strong public symbol of faith and forgiveness. This last week, Danny was a part of the Police Unity Tour. He rode nearly 300 miles on a bicycle to draw attention to our fallen officers. While much pedaling isn’t on my Bucket List, doing what I can to support police officers and their families is a big deal. I’m proud of our selfless heroes, proud of Danny, and proud of Amy for continuing to show her strengths and vulnerabilities to the world. We need all the heroes we can get, and they need our support.
2. The Blue Ridge Mountains Christian Writer’s Conference. Conferences are a great place to make connections and share writings. Several of my friends and colleagues speak at the BRMCWC and I’m hopeful to attend next year. Between now and then, I’ll do whatever I can to raise the funds necessary to get there. I’ve yet to attend any writer’s conference, and I can think of no better way to start than by going across the country to meet up with people I know and admire.
3. Book Tour. What kind of writer would I be if I didn’t rehearse television interviews and plan my agenda years in advance? Once NOLA is a best seller (think positive!), I’ll start in New York and travel my way around the United States with stops in Michigan, North Carolina, New Orleans (of course!), Texas, Arizona and wherever else I can land.
NOLA Inspiration
This is all actually just a clever ploy to meet up with family and friends. Selling books is secondary to my wish to see all my loved ones again.
4. Last Resorts. I’m not shy about admitting that I like to taste the finer things in life. Last week I was delightfully treated to my first dining experience at Duane’s Prime Steaks & Seafood, the elegant restaurant at my most favorite place, The Mission Inn in Riverside. It was beyond my expectations. It was magical. And yes, it was worth it. I’ve stayed at the Mission Inn once and would love to do so again. The Keeper of the Inn Suite, if you please.
Peaceful Morning
There, and the Grand Hotel on Mackinac Island, Michigan. As a child, we would drive up to Mackinaw City each summer. Driving across the bridge was always so adventurous.
Mackinac Bridge [Photo by Danny O’Rourke; used by permission.]
5. Italy. My second home will be in Italy. Tuscany. Rome. Venice. It doesn’t matter. Italy is small enough that I can easily get from one place to another in a reasonable amount of time. Until then, my house will continue to look like an Italian countryside coffeehouse.
My Favorite Coffee Mugs
There are many more experiences on my Bucket List. But these are my top five.
What are yours?
And Frankly, My Dear . . . that’s all she wrote.
You may also enjoy reading:
FIVE THINGS FRIDAY: Everything Old is NEW Again
2014: BETTER.
I’m Afraid of My Own Success
FIVE THINGS FRIDAY: The Big Easy
Destination: Mission Inn, Riverside, CA
Destination: Grand Hotel, Mackinac Island, Michigan
Apr 27, 2014 |
By now you’ve probably heard the latest near-celebrity uproar that involves the owner of the L. A. Clippers basketball team, Donald Sterling, and his purported bigotry and hatred toward blacks and other minorities.
You’ve at least heard the shortened audio clip that is being broadcast nine ways to Sunday in an effort to “promote awareness”.
Let me be perfectly clear: I do not tolerate bigotry or prejudice in any fashion.
Having said that, I also don’t accept a blanket decision based on tid-bits and samplings. I prefer to discover the entire story and not make snap judgments.
I also have a problem with vilifying a person based on a conversation recorded by someone else.
Sure, Sterling said things that are highly inflammatory. Worse than that, it appears he really does think and feel in a disgusting, greater-than-thou matter.
But the girlfriend who recorded, and then broadcast, the conversation (or perhaps an edited version of several conversations), is not an innocent bystander. V Stiviano is just as guilty for promoting this hatred because of the manner in which it was done.
Doesn’t recording such a volatile discussion indicate forethought? A person doesn’t start rambling and say “Oh, I wish I’d recorded that.” There’s no magic button that can go back in time to record from the beginning of a conversation when it’s nearly over. No. The idea to record a conversation was already there. She knew she would need it.
And for what purpose? To trap Sterling into saying something vulgar?
I did a little research. I read the entire nine minute transcript. And I learned how the girlfriend has been accused of embezzlement and how she threatened to “get even”.
My point is this. Sterling has admitted to being bigoted and prejudiced. Those beliefs and behaviors are disgusting and dangerous.
But so is the mindset of recording conversations with the intent to use them later. Stiviano is not innocent. Sterling is not innocent. I don’t like giving people like that publicity.
But as long as the news will continue to show small clip bits and use colossal words like “angry” and “mob mentality”, I will speak up and use words like “acceptance” and “love” and “okay”.
I’m not perfect. Far from it. But my imperfections have nothing to do with the color of my skin, my gender, or even my country. My imperfections come from being human. And since we all are, I promote peace and forgiveness.
Shame on you, Sterling, for thinking you’re something greater. And shame on you, Stiviano, for using underhanded means to get your point across.
Neither of you are getting an invitation to any of my holiday parties.
And Frankly, My Dear . . . that’s all she wrote!
