Vanity

Dear readers
I am guilty. I confess. I admit I was doing it for all the wrong reasons. First, it began as a quest to get healthy, strengthen my bones due to the aging process. It felt good to stick to a regular routine and stay discipline. I slept better, had amazing energy, my skin glowed and I was on top of the world. It was all in vain. I worked out five days a week, hired a trainer attended yoga and spin class all for the wrong reasons. My main objective wasn’t to prevent heart decease or high blood. I worked out because I wanted to attrack a mate. I am guilty of falling into the trap of the beauty myth set forth by the male gaze. I am gulity of believing that if I developed and sustained the ideal body that I would have no problems attracting and keeping a partner. I never believed that men are attracted to women of various body types. The reason for my skepticism every beauty magazine, female actress, singer or public figure is presented as the perfect body size and judge on being the ” It girl”. I don’t know when and where I got the idea that having the ” perfect body” meant that I won’t be alone. There is a flaw to my stinkin thinkin, its my vanity and being overweight in my mind is considered unattractive. For years I watched the scale, and measured my waist. I stopped enjoying food and I developed a love hate relationship with anything that I deemed would ” go straight to my hips, thighs and buttocks”.  for years I didn’t look at myself in a full lenght mirror. when I am forced to try on clothing in a dressing room, I feel intimated by all the mirrors watching me from every angle.
Slowly I started to loose my battle to remain a perfect size 8. Little by little life got in the way and I  stopped working out and doing yoga. I let my guards down and began to nibble on the greasy fried foods that I denied myself for years. I gave into my sweettooth and now I can stop. The constant snacking is out of control. I feel ashame and weak. I failed me. When I look in the mirror I see an old body, sagging breast, wide hips, and untamed thighs. I want it back. I want it all back from the right reasons. Diabetes and high blood pressure runs in my family, so far I’ve been lucky. I want my body back for all the right reasons. I want to be as healthy as I can be at the age of 55. I need to eat cleaner, cut back on the sweets, I have a new work out plan thats reasonable and I have set small reachable goals. I will celebration to keep me motivated each time I achieve a goal. first one, rid myself of the extra 15 pounds. I want to feel good in my clothes, sleep better, have more energy, and get back to running my 3 miles and playing tennis. I need to love and except myself and work with what I have. The vain side of me will always be with me, but I won’t allow my vainty to persuade me that I am not good enough. And as far a s my future her mate, what you see is what you get.

” The Waiting Game” by J. R. Floyd

Setting the Stage

Dear readers,

It is said that if you stop looking for love it will come to you, and if you love someone,
set him free; if the relationship is meant to be, he will come back. Well, in my case, this saying
is a myth. I am a 52-year-old mother of one and grandmother of three. I had one short horrible
marriage and several hit- and -run relationships.
I thought that I once had the love of my life, but he ran for the hills when I mentioned
marriage. I found out that most of my lovers moved on to get married and live happy lives.
What is so painful about reliving these memories is that none of these men thought that I was
wife material or good enough to be the mother of his children.
There is something very evil and disturbing about men who will have sex with you, lie to
you, play you like a fiddle, while closing the door in your face.
I had a few of them come back, but I was not smart enough to understand that I was
just a layover before they moved on again. What is it about me that either scares men away,
attracts losers, or beckons to men who simply don’t get me?
Most of them came with too many requirements and baggage: baggage in the form of
ex-wives who had not moved on, or ex- girlfriends who have not really become exes. In each
relationship, I was expected to change and make adjustments, compromise, give up, give in
until I gave out. I was not sexy enough; I did not dress sluttily enough to suit their taste, I was
too conservative, too aggressive, and too smart. I did not give enough of myself in bed; in other
words, I was not freaky enough.
I played different roles in these relationships. For the men who refused to grow up and
cut the apron strings, I had to mother them. Oh, and the children; no, not my son, their
children. I was the free babysitter so they could go out and hang with the boys.
My biggest role–playing wife without the ring or marriage license. When I think about
all the time I wasted cooking, cleaning, washing and organizing their sad lives, all in the name of
L.O.V.E, I realized that Tina Turner was right: love had nothing to do with what I was going
through. It was all for the sole purpose of their self-gratification. Moreover, in the end I was left
emotionally confused, physically exhausted, mentally disturbed, and financially broken- exactly
what they wanted.
More myths: you are still young, it is not too late, he is out there for you, and you just
have not met him yet. Why do people tell you this when deep down inside what they really
want to say is, “ Girl, hang up your dating boots, your prince isn’t coming, settle for that frog,’
because at this stage of the game you have to take what you can get; or settle for what’s
behind door number three.”
Drum roll please…. and behind door number three we present Miss Lonely. Yes, most
women fear being alone, because we have been told being alone is BAD.
Yes, the defect is always with us. It goes something like this: I am alone because I am a
nag, hard to get along with, too needy, too fat, too thin, too broke, or too independent.
I am selfish, bossy, noisy, fussy, and refuse to have sex 10 times a day. I am too trusting
or not trusting enough. Oh, here is the climax: it is my fault that I have been replaced with a
better woman. But no, I am not another angry woman, as I have been labeled. I am a woman
who has arrived at the end of these experiences finally understanding who I am, where I am
going, and knowing how I am going to get there, and what I will and will not put up with and
why. My story is about ignoring the warning signs, such as, when it is time to get out of an
abusive relationship. A reminder: abuse does not have to be physical to leave scars. I had to
learn how to put the brakes on, make a U-turn, and haul ass in the opposite direction when the
drama got too deep.
This is about not lowering standards by accepting the behavior of a serial cheater. By
doing so, we women put our health in danger by continuing to have sexual intercourse with
him: all because women are told this is all a part of what men do. Well, A.I.D.S kills and herpes
is for life, and do you really want to stay with a man who has been labeled community
property?
This is about all the bad relationship myths that are damaging to women’s self-esteem
and self- respect and undermine us a woman. This is about living in a society where the double
standard motto that “Boys will be Boys” is an accepted norm, while women are expected to put
out and shut up.
To the men who have the great fortune and guts to read this book, it is about your
understanding that men can be broken, needy, and have parts of them that need to be fixed
too. Stop measuring your worth by your penis and start thinking with your brain about the
quality of emotional stability, respect, caring, and love that you can give to your partner.
A final note: Men, stop being selfish; a relationship is not all about you. Women, stop
talking to your girlfriends, your mother, his mother, and talk to him, God, or a therapist.
When entering into a relationship, both men and women need to think about what they
are doing and why. Nobody likes a player and games are for social activities, not a relationship.

What Say You?

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The Wait is Over