It’s always the little, unexpected things that trigger my grief as a single mother. 

Like the doting Dad who just rushed to his little girl’s side with flowers and to tell her how proud he is of her at a middle school play intermission. He lit up. She lit up. 

Diva deserves such doting and it breaks me that I cannot provide that piece in her life. Not for lack of trying and doing the “right thing”.  

I resent her having to toughen up. It’s not fair. 

Thank God for the brief pause to gather my senses back together. *sigh*

What Lies Within Us

As always seems to be the case, love has found me when I least expected. I didn’t see this.

Even though every conversation and interaction brings about my hair standing on end and electricity charging through my heart and soul, I regress.

I think of what I have experienced before. I think about the challenges of a future.

I tell myself that patience is the proper virtue for this situation. I constantly turn over the pros and cons. I remind myself that anything meant for me cannot be meant for anyone else and will make its way. Then, I apply the brakes and set up camp, erecting mobile barriers, but barriers none the less. This satisfies my girl brain anxieties, but my heart aches for the sweet after so very much sour. I can’t force it. I’m being mindful of the fact

While all this seems like a logical approach, it does not feel authentic to being myself. It feels like looking the gift horse in the mouth. It feels like cowardice.

How much time have I spent searching with unrequited efforts and fervent prayers for a partner, matched on some many (even seemingly impossible) levels to come forth? I already know everything needed to make this happen lies within me because day after day, a revelation slaps me in the face that life has perfectly prepared me for this very thing…or is that my pattern talking?

To be or not to be, I guess that really is the fucking question.

Not knowing the other party’s true intentions for you is so scary.


In one way or another I’ve always suffered. I didn’t know why exactly. But I do know that I’m not so scared of suffering now. I feel more than I’ve ever felt and I’ve found someone to feel with. To play with. To love in a way that feels right for me. I hope he knows that I can see that he suffers too. And that I want to love him.