I want to walk down the isle like most women. At least I think I do. I am not sure if I wanted to get married at all to be frank with myself. It has never been something high on my priority list as a child or as an adult. I never remembered playing with my Barbie and Ken dolls and pretending that they were getting married. Cinderella and her lost slipper never excited me nor did Snow white and her poison red apple ring a bell of love in my mind. I never understood how the glass slipper never broke while she was running down the stairs to catch her pumpkin. It also baffled me why a women wanted to be saved and taking care of by a man in the first place. Why didn’t she want her own independence, her own job and a husband for a constellation prize. Nor did I understand how an enchanted kiss could wake one up from a sleeping death like in Snow white.
Death at an early age for me always seemed so permanent and final to me. Something that life didn’t allow any “do overs” for. Fairy tales where never my thing as a child because my life was far from a fairy tale. Do you know what? I identified more with the terrible step mother and step sisters and how they treated Cinderella . I could relate to her in that aspect because I saw my sister in the step sisters and my father in the evil step mother. As for Snow white I understood how it felt to be ran off from home by the wick step mother and have to flee and live in the woods with strangers to get away from the dangers that resided back home. I too had a wicked mother that kicked me out of the house at the age of twelve and I had to go into the concrete jungles of Miami all alone. I had to get help from friends and strangers to help me when I was out there by myself. No matter how often those books where read to me with good intention from my father they fell on deaf ears secretly.
I know he wanted me to have child like wonder fueled with a budding imagination but he snatched that when he filled my reality with harsh truths and physically pain daily. I didn’t believe that good men like that existed outside of books. They where conjured up in a writers mind and brought to life as their ideas flowed on to blank pages. Their words neatly arranged in black and white giving the reader a visual glimpse of the perfect man that they envisioned in their own mind. My sister on the other hand lived in La La land in the bedroom across from my doom and gloom room. She collected all the Cabbage Patch Kid dolls in every color. She was so excited about the fake adoptions papers that she signed and took to heart. She really believed that she was a young mommy adopting a real baby. She loved all the fairy tales, the cheesy love stories that she read and all the love stories she watched. She was a great student. All American type kid in school and was the first born. She was the good child in respects. She saw life from a different set of eyes from mines and she was treated differently than me too.
I find it oddly funny that my sister ended up getting married. She was the first of my fathers three daughters to get married. I was so happy that he was able to walk one of his daughters down the isle before he died. He was so excited and happy to be apart of her big day. She however wasn’t able to conceive children naturally on her own. The Irony of it all is that; she was so excited when she signed her real adoption papers for her son in real life. She was so happy just like she was younger signing her pretend adoption papers for her Cabbage Patch kid dolls. As I reflect upon her life with wonderment now instead of jealousy like I did before. I stand in awe of how successful her life turned out. How she made all the right life choices and the results of it is apparent in her life. If you google her name you will see the list of all her accomplishments, achievements, accolades, educational degrees and more. You will see where her practice is located and what company she is the CEO of. I am very proud of her because life wasn’t easy for her either.
At the age of 12 and 13 we both lived with a different parent. I lived with my dad and she lived with my mother. My mother was a very intelligent women and she had three Master degrees under her belt too. Where as my father dropped out of school and drove a cab for a living. My sister also lived in a two parent house with my mom and step dad and I lived with my father. I WONDER if that had anything to do with how differently turned out? There was a point as children that we grew up in the same household with my dad until she went to live with my mom in her teenage years. I am not sure what happened for her in between those years for her but I do know what happen to me. My father was never a man that brought women in and out of the home we shared.(I am the same way to this day}
I can only recall one women that he dated. She use to take us out, take us shopping and do are hair. I was to young to know what to look for in a healthy relationship back then. I never witness them hugging, kissing or displaying any signs of affection towards each other. I never saw her stay over night after she cooked us dinner and help put us to bed. When we were out as a family he never held her hand or showed any type of endearment towards her. He did do one thing. He always gave he money for to purchase clothes, shoes and jewelry. Every month her drove her to have favorite Salon to get her hair done. I recalled it was more than $300.00 to get it done because he complained about how expensive it was in front of me while handing her the money. Who am to pass judgment on his relationship?
He treated her just like he treated me. Why would I expected him to treat her any differently? He wasn’t affectionate to me growing up either. He was not a person that showed his affection through touch or words. He would give you money when you did something well or made great grade in school. However, he missed the mark with hugs and forehead kisses. He would pat you on the head to reassure you that he was proud of you. He only held my hand to cross the street nothing more or not less. He tucked me at night and turned and walked out the door. He was emotionally unavailable. He was the type of man that showed his love through materialistic items like clothing, shoes, toys, amazing Christmas’s and more. You get the point. If he wasn’t buying me things with a smile on his face he was physically and emotionally abusing me with a scowl on his face. There was nothing fairy tale about my childhood.
I entered into my teenage years and started dating at the age of fourteen. I had it set in my mind what I thought I wanted in a man and how I wanted the man to treat me or love me. I have never seen with my own two eyes what a healthy relationship looked like before. I knew one thing fore sure and that was; I didn’t want to be loved the way that my father loved me. I set out looking for the kind of the love that resembled my favorite childhood T.V shows such as; The Brandy Bunch, Leave it to Beaver and The Cosby show. I wanted a man that loved me like Cliff loved Clair on the Cosby show. I didn’t realize at the time that I was going to attract the exact men into my my life that I detested and and wanted no parts of over the next two decades. Some people say that “ You attract what you want in life.” I believe differently. I believe “You attract what’s in your heart” and “ you attract what you are”. I am a hurt, abused and confused soul and that is just what I ATTRACTED.
I was so use to dysfunction that I could not tell that my first relationship I was in was a toxic and dysfunctional relationship. My first love was brought up in a home where domestic violence against mother was a normal and reoccurring theme in his home too. I was used to being the victim in my home and he was use to his mother being the victim in his home. By the time we met up we were both looking for something we where missing in are lives and we thought we could give whatever the missing piece was to each other. His home became my second home for years to come. It started out in the beginning as being my safety net; my home away from home. A place where I could relax, feel safe; feel loved and a place I could be happy. I was there every day after work and school. I went on all the family outings and trips with them and more. Then it began . It was a slow leak. So slow that I never paid attention to it until it was overflowing and out of control. He became controlling and possessive over time. Instead of warning signals going off in my head; I could hear wedding bells instead.
“Omg, He really loves me” I thought. He doesn’t want men looking at me. Oh how sweet that he is calling to check on me to make sure that I got home I said to myself. I thought him keeping tabs on my where about meant that he really cared not that he was controlling my movements. Then when he start to hit me I was not afraid because all my life my father had physically abused me. At least I thought to myself I can fight him back. That will not make me a victim like his mom if I fought back. I wasn’t going to allow him to hit me and not fight back. I can’t begin to tell you how many times we both landed in the ER from injuries that we gave each other. It all came to a head when I was living on my own and we had a big blow out. He thought I was cheating. I remember the heated exchange of words.
His hands around my neck and me feeling light head. I reached for a knife on the kitchen counter and I stabbed him in the stomach. There was blood, 911 calls, cop cars and an ambulance. They took him to the hospital and me to jail. When I got out I went to see him in the hospital. As he is laying in the bed talking to the doctor he see me enter the room. He turns to me and said “ What are you looking at”? “ You want him too”? He asked me.He was referring to the doctor who was treating him. I couldn’t believe he was laying in a hospital bed and still acting controlling. Time elapsed and years went by. That relationship ended when I moved out of state. All the relationships after that mimicked the same scenarios. I was on a hamster wheel of toxicity. I was drawn over and over again to men like my father.
The one thing I can say is that my first love never cheated on me . At least not that I know of. In my twenty’s I experienced what infidelity felt like. That was a crushing feeling to say the least. I promised myself that if any man did that to me I would leave. I told the man in my new relationship the same thing too. So when he told me that he did I was a new kind of broken.What I thought I would do is not what I did. I stayed and forgave him. So now I added on being cheated on into my bag of unhealthy, toxic and dysfunctional mixture. I was so angry with myself for accepting a new pile of acceptableness into my life. I know now that I was missing self respect and self love at the time. I was just search for what love looked like in my minds eyes. No matter how screwed up my thinking was on the subject of love I was going to chase it to high heaven until I tasted what it tasted like. I had no idea what I am searching for in reality but I was searching never the less. Years later I found myself alone with two kids. The relationship deteriorated as it should have after the birth of my last daughter.
The father of my children was just like my father as well. He become emotionally and physically abusive . I recall being 7 mouths pregnant and having a fist fight with him over another women. The fight ended with his boot in my belly and me being rushed to the Emergency room.On both occasions he left town when I was pregnant with both kids and came back after they were born. I had both kids alone. I was so messed up that I thought it was wrong to move on and be with another man after having his kids.He always said “ No one will want you now after you had kids”. I believed that for many years and it made me stay in that relationship longer than I need to be. That relationship took a toll on my self esteem big time. My once beautiful body now had stretch marks and extra weight on it and I felt ugly and fat. For years after me he talked to me in demeaning ways. He always called me Ugly, fat, stupid, a bitch and a bad mother and for years you couldn’t tell me any differently because the words he planted into the depths of my mind and it started bloom into my reality in how I viewed myself. It was best that relationship ended.
The relationship I had after was with a man ten years older. I thought if I got an older man it would be different. He was and still is a great human being. He loved me and my kids like no other man before. He never hit me but he overtime became emotionally abusive. I thought that was better than nothing and at least he wasn’t hitting me. He was a great provider too. However, It ended because I thought it was unfair to be in a relationship with someone that I was not in love with. It was unfair to him because he loved me so much and I could not reciprocate his love back. Not long after we broke up I discovered he was cheating on me with the next door neighbor all along and that’s who he ended up falling in love with and falling in love with him in return. I was angry at first when I found out what he did but I was happy after when I found out that he was loved in fullness by this lady and that all that mattered.
By the time I got into my last relationship I was tired. I was tired of being cheated on, hurt, abused, used , mistreated and discharged.I told myself that I was going to try something new. I wanted to be in an open relationship because I would rather know up front who he’s sleeping with than to find out who he is sleeping with behind my back. I wanted to be in something that was out titles, rules or restrictions. I wanted to be in something to feel something without feeling anything at the same time if he decided to jump up and leave. I went into my last relationship in this way. In the beginning it was super fun to me. There was no conflict, fighting, abuse or pain. It was all fun until low and behold my feelings came into the picture unannounced and with out warning. All that I thought I wanted was not what I truly wanted. I thought that was trying something new and I thought it was a healthier out look on being in a relationship. All along It was just as unhealthy as all the rest but this time the toxicity was at a disastrous level. I didn’t see it until I was honest with myself and how truly unhappy I was.
I was settling. I was throwing in the towel and at 43 I was accepting something I told myself was what was best for me at the time. In reality I don’t know how I feel about being in an open relationship or marriage. I am unsure if is even possible for a human being to be truly faithful. I don’t believe that a man is truly capable of being with one women for the duration of his life. There is seven billion people on this planet. I will never be the only person that he will be attracted to in his life time. I know that ideology is a flawed way to think to some but it is my reality. I have yet to not be cheated on somewhere in the relationship. No matter if I was the ideal women who cooked, cleaned and took great care of the home. It didn’t matter if I was a beast in the bed, a great faithful women and mother. It didn’t matter if I didn’t nag, argue or be annoying. I still got cheated on with a women who didn’t compare to the good women that I was. The thought of that broke me even more.
To feel like I was more than enough for a man and to only be rejected for a women that was less than me made me fell less than enough. At the same time while I was in an open relationship I found that I didn’t actually like knowing that he was sleeping with someone else either. It opened up a new can of worms that I wasn’t ready for. Wow, why would you still need more than me when I am a hand full as it is? What does the other women have that I am missing? All of a sudden I started looking for the missing pieces myself. I started feeling a different type of “ not Enough” . As a women how do I really feel that someone else is enjoying my man and sending him back home to me when she is done? At one time it was sexy to hear him say “ there is no one like you Kidada” “I will always come home to you” he would say.
After while I found that line became disrespectful and hurtful. Now I feel like I was accepting something most women would wouldn’t. After my feelings came into play I noticed that I started to feel jealous inside. I thought it would be easier for a man to be truthful in an open relationship but I found out that is far from the truth, His started to feel like he could no longer tell me because he liked me and he didn’t want to hurt my feelings. I found out that he slept with someone and didn’t tell me and lied about it when he clearly didn’t have to. That hurt me more than him actually sleeping with her. I lost trust in him and it went to hell from there. I became the women that I dread. We started fighting more and eventually we got into are first physical altercation and it has never been the same since.
So Here I sit at 43 remembering why I hated fairy tales as a kid because they are made up feel good stories. Everyones is not going to end up like Snow white or Cinderella. Everyone is not going to find their prince in their life time. I understand that no relationship comes without challenges, problems and pain. I have the idea in the very back of my head that I still want to get married. The thing about that is I feel like I want the experience of the world wind romance. I want to share with the world my engagement story and engagement ring. I want to finally feel like I am worth a mans last name. That out of all the women he could have chosen that he chose me. I want to feel special, loved and adored by one special man.
I want to experience trying on wedding dresses and finally picking my favorite Vera Wang dress tailor made to fit my juicy curves. I want to plan the wedding and find the wedding venue of my dream. I want to find the best Jamaican Restaurant to cater my food from. I want to taste sample cakes after sample cakes until I discover my favorite combination and style of cake. I want to experience having an unbelievable time at my bachelorett party. I want to experience walking down the isle while he is looking at me with tears in his eyes because he can’t believe he is marrying me. I want to say our vows and kiss and say I do. I want to experience the unforgettable honeymoon of a life time with endless night of forbidden sex and unlimited nights of cuddling.
That’s what I am afraid of the most. I am afraid that is all I want to do is experience it just to say that I did it. There are so many things I have not experienced in life yet like attending a wedding, buying my first car, going to a funeral or attending a family reunion. So I wonder if that is the extent of it for me? I don’t want to place my life, heart and soul into another human beings hands at this point. I don’t want to be fully vulnerable and open to another human being that can turn around and crush my very soul with the information I entrusted him. I don’t want to place my undying trust and faith into another human being that can be lost the drop of a dime. Who knows what opportunity may arise that may tempt my husband to stray from his martial bed. Not because he loves her but because he is sexually attracted to another soul. He might not mean to hurt me but his actions defiantly will kill me and shatter my heart. I have been broken from men from day one starting my father. I am 43 now and I am tried of kissing a bunch of frogs and them turning into wart hogs instead of Prince’s. I am tired of my heart getting broken repeatedly time after time. I am tired of giving all and everything to people who are not willing to do the same to me.
I am tired of my loyalty keeping me in situations long after I should have left them. I am tired of being understanding, caring and loving only to not to be viewed worthy enough to receive it back in return. I am tired of not being cherished, protected and thought of like I do to others. The bottom line is I am scared at this point to fall in love. I am afraid to give away the only part of me that I have left to spare. The only part of me that is pure and has the best interest of others. The part of me that with stood the test of time and who has weather all the storms that life has brought my way.I don’t know why my heart still chases after love and still beat with intensity with the thought of being in love and loving someone else. I know that there is not another heart break left in me. The next time it is broken I believe that it will shatter into a thousand unfix-able pieces. I don’t think I am willing to place my heart in that position again. I am 43 and the years are accumulating at a rapid speed. I don’t want to grow old alone but at the same time I don’t want to be with someone because of that reason too. I want to be with someone because my heart sings a melody only they can hear. So there you have it. I was doomed from the start. I never saw any one love my father or watch him love another soul in front of me. All I have ever experience was dysfunctional and toxic relationships all my life.I thought that was what love looked like.
I have never been in love before and I am afraid that I never will either. Either it’s not in my life cards or I am not worthy enough to be loved unconditionally by anyone but my kids.I don’t want to believe that to be true but at this point I have tried and failed at this thing called love. No matter how you slice it I secretly want it but the realist in me doesn’t believe that love is forever. I believe that love last as long as it id destined to until it no longer lives there any more. I don’t believe human beings have the capability to be loyal or faithful. I don’t believe that love hurts. I believe people hurt people that they love. So where do I go from here is unknown to me. I am open to love but I am always going to be mistrusting of what people will do to me in the guise of love. I wish that my formative years would have been better but that is water under the bridge now. All I can do is wait until true love finds me and hopefully when it does I will be ready with open arms willing to accept it and not sabotage it out of fear of being hurt all over again.