Go Easy, Goddess

I’m not really sure if it’s because we’re in the middle of a Mercury Retrograde or I’m just at my wits end with the inability to leave my damn house due to a pandemic or if it’s just today and humans from the past week in general getting under skin...but...truth. Thank goddess for my playlist and headphones because without either, someone would have already been set on fire. *Not really...I mean...I will pretend to set you on fire but no one nor anything is worth going to prison for.*

What am I on about? 

Oh I will tell you....just like I tell mostly everything...because these are my stories and this is my blog. It’s about real life and sometimes that life isn’t picture perfect. Besides it’s free therapy. At least one person can relate to what I am writing about and by me expressing my thoughts, maybe someone out there can sort through their own. 

Ready set go! 

Today’s topic....MARRIAGE! 

Marriage is hard work. Anyone who says it isn’t...is fucking lying to you. I don’t care how blissfully happy they are...that happiness shit still takes work. 

I swear I truly believe partners occasionally need to be able to go into a gauntlet and fight it out without penalty. I know this isn’t the wisest belief to have because there are hella abusive partners out there but for the relationships that aren’t toxic, it would be a great alternative and could possibly solve a pent up aggression problem. But in case you are on the fence...NO IT’S NOT OKAY TO PUT HANDS ON ANYONE ESPECIALLY YOUR SIGNIFICANT OTHER. 

Any person that’s been coupled up longer than the ‘honeymoon’ stage though has definitely mentally gouged out their significant others’ eyeballs more than once. Those that claim they haven’t...again...are fucking lying to you. 

And I don’t feel bad for saying this...my husband has felt the same way about me. That’s real life and marriage and knowing someone the way you know yourself. We are just adults and don’t go around knocking each other out. 

My husband isn’t a bad dude and this isn’t a post to bash the man I married but every married person out there knows exactly where I am coming from. I’m not going to make someone believe that marriage is always full of sunshine and rainbows. You experience storms along the way. I’m not saying we are in one at the current moment but with the world the way it is, people acting like regular dicks, and being confined to my home for almost a year now, some days are a little more irritating than others. 

My husband and I aren’t in a toxic relationship. We have been through a lot and 95% of the time, we are walking on solid ground. Together, harmoniously. 

I can’t discredit him and all that he has done for me. I owe so much to him for how far we have come. He works hard for us. He works hard for our business but with that said, I can’t discredit myself either. Us, our life. Our business. Wasn’t just a one man solo show. And for everything he has done, I’m reminded of it continuously. 

I can’t take carry the weight of choices made years ago any longer though. I can’t take that anytime something goes awry it’s my fault. I can’t deal with the passive aggressive back handed statements that are released from an angry sharp tongue. I can’t take my marriage being dangled in front of my face anytime an issue arises. My marriage isn’t a carrot nor am I a damn rabbit. 

I can’t handle that because my voice is louder and his quietly says some awful shit, the tone doesn’t equal the same type of destructive behavior. 

Kudos, my dudes you can speak softer than most females. You know why? Because you’ve never been forced to raise your voice just because of the shit between your legs. 

I also can’t take ‘I’m so miserable’ being the go-to comment because it’s an easy eye-roll type of a sentiment. 

My trip abroad in 2019, not only kickstarted my creative energy into overdrive but it also gave me the strength to not deal with some unnecessary bullshit anymore. I found my voice...I found out all this bullshit didn’t hold so much power. 

I know my husband was meant to come into my life and we are meant to be on this path together...however long this path grants us. 

And just like I said before, I will say again...he has done a tremendous amount for me....however I can honestly tell you, not once has this action ever not been reciprocated. I’m not a taker. I give too. 

When we moved cross country, it was mostly on his dime but I found employment immediately doing something I never wanted to do again...waiting tables...but I’m not too prideful when it comes to paying my bills and living up in the mountains options are few and far in between. I took what I could because beggars can’t be choosy. 

This job was not only 45 minutes away but to get there I had to travel on a road that was sketchy AF and just one giant long memorial site. It didn’t matter though...I had to contribute in one way or another. In fact, I worked multiple jobs at this time just like I have most of my life. 

I’m not the type of woman who seeks men out to take care of her. I’m not the type of woman with her hand out expecting a man to throw a stack of cash in it. I want to support myself. I want to contribute. I wanna be that other 50% out of a 100. 

It was only a few short years ago...I found one career that stuck and paid well. We both did. Which extended into us owning our own business. The same business we created with both our blood, sweat, tears and sacrifices. 

My goals with this career have allowed me dive deep into creative endeavors being fulfilled and again I understand that this freedom does come from my husband as well...without his effort I wouldn’t be the machine I am. I’m not the type of woman who won’t row the boat as well. 

This business, my creative spurt are all part of an unfinished painting I’m still working on. A picture that won’t be complete until I’m on my death bed...because that’s how souls work. They evolve until the very end. 

He never handed me anything on a silver platter. I had to work for that shit but I wouldn’t have it any other way. 

For the record though, my career is one giant ass Boy’s Club. Kinda like most industries are and because these pants come with a zipper instead of a fly, most times I am looked right over. He didn’t build this empire by himself...and yeah...on our business end...he does do more but on our home front...I do mostly everything with him freely tossing out unwarranted critiques and from what I hear this isn’t an uncommon trend. 

The man hasn’t done his own laundry in six damn years. Just to be clear...I don’t like people-including my husband-touching my clothes. So I don’t mind this job but raise your hand if you too can say the same? A lot of you ladies are about to throw up both arms...amirite? 

Hell..I don’t even mind being the unpaid maid in our home. I don’t mind making most of the dinners, walking the trash to the street most weeks, doing all the grocery shopping and doing all the extra tasks in our business that make his job a little easier. But it’s like this: JUST BECAUSE I HAVE A FUCKING VAGINA doesn’t mean this is my fucking goal in life. 

Most women...run circles around their male counterparts. Not because we are trying to compete but because we have to.  And nine times out of ten, these extra circles not only are expected but they get zero credit. We’re also supposed to do them with a goddamn smile plastered to our face every waking fucking second. 

*****Funny Side Story*****

I literally one time had a male coworker tell me he doesn’t date any woman over 30 because they come with too much baggage. This asshat was in his 40’s and guess what I was in my 30’s. He thought I was younger and was a deer in headlights when I replied, “Cool story...bro...I’m 33.” Then walked away as his mouth hung open. Needless to say this guy tried real hard to date me a few months later and I wasn’t haven’t it. Funny how that works. 

*****The End*****

I’m not perfect. I know I’m a handful too but I don’t have the ‘God Complex’ my husband or most men have. I don’t know any woman that does. Most women are just trying to go through the day without being compared to a sexual object or a lesser counterpart. Most women are trying to balance a 100 hats while simultaneously not being criticized because those hats equal to years lived. 

The other day I was asked, “How are you doing?” And I instantly burst into tears. I’m an emotional and sensitive creature and honestly I’m fine but I was moved. I was touched on a completely different level. How many women out there get asked this question? I know I don’t get asked and I was shocked that someone wanted to know how I was doing? 

No one I know has ever asked me this with such genuine sincerity. I’m usually the one asking this question. I’m usually the one ready and willing to listen to whatever the answer might be and truth be told, I wanted to go into everything: the good, the bad, the ugly, the beautiful but this being a new type territorial question and me being a woman, I was unaware of how to respond so I replied with what I could. 

I wanted to say so much more. I wanted to just shrug my shoulders and ask in return, “How long to you have?” 

But again because I’m not used to anyone ever asking me this...I retreated to just giving surface details...sticking to a less sticky dialogue. 

Life isn’t bad. For the most part I’m happy with it. I’m happy with the direction my path is going. I’m content and grateful. Anything I’m unhappy with, I’m working to changer or better. I’m chasing dreams. I’m doing the damn thing. 

Still, that doesn’t come without some sort of exchange. It doesn’t come without giving up one part to accept another. And yeah most of the things we let go of are necessary. I just know I’m not willing to give up any thing else. 

I had to move cross country and let go of everything familiar in order to swim in a sea that I’ve been always afraid to dive into. 

It had to leave those I love to find love in myself. 

I had to set bridges on fire and come out of battles badly bruised. 

I had to fall head first into a deep dark pit in order to see there was a light after all. 

I had to lose myself to find myself. 

I had to go crazy in order to discover sanity. 

I had to do this in order to get here. 

I don’t need to pay the pied Piper any longer. 

I’ve had all these collective moments and I wouldn’t change them. My 40 year old self wouldn’t turn back for a do over because I felt I fucked up some how along the way. And maybe everything being stirred up needs to. It’s the only way layers are peeled and paths are walked. It’s the only way we understand that the messy parts are important parts too. 

I don’t have a crystal ball. I don’t know where my future will lead. I have a vision for it and hopes and goals that I’m working toward and that’s the best I can do...it’s the best any one of us can do! 

So during weeks like this...I go easy on myself...and if you’re having a wiry week like this too...don’t fret. Go easy on yourself as well. Shit happens and everything will turn out as it should. You won’t get along with everyone all the time-even the people you love. Some weeks are ridiculous and tiresome. Some years are hard as fuck and some months will make you question whether or not you really want to go to jail. 

Let go. Breathe. Dance. Cry. Get drunk. And enjoy the ride taking you where you need to be.

Then after all that, go ask someone how they are. 

🎧Music Inspiration For Post🎧

Yup...still on that 2021 playlist mix...hit link and enjoy. 

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0t8agYuWLNVwwnkY0rsRfB?si=Gf0Oo13VQ8yxvDg1DpqzxQ