Dear Future Husband: Let's Just Keep It Open

Like the rest of the world, I've seen Lemonade about five times now, okay maybe seven. And like the rest of the world, I agree it's hands down, another big ass slice of flawless, divine, unicorn magic provided by the queen. Beyonce is seriously the most hyped up celebrity that is STILL underrated. Her perfection is unquestionable and unfathomable. She's everything I didn't know I needed. Ugh, Jay-Z, you're stupid. Okay, I'm digressing kind of...but for real, Beyonce really had me thinking, "Damn, I can't believe Prince is gone...but Beyonce. I have Beyonce." That's an awful fucking thought and yet...that's how I felt. 

So, watching Lemonade and it only took about three minutes into the hour-long special for my heart to break. For a couple that is so "private" about their relationship, Beyonce sure does drop some provocatively personal lyrics. If you haven't seen Lemonade...stop reading this and do so now. The pain felt by so many women is so painfully but beautifully woven into every lyric. She gets as bold as taking off a ring and throwing it, stating "you gon' lose your wife" and we've all heard about the Rachel Roy/Becky With The Good Hair controversy. Ok, if you haven't, in Lemonade Beyonce tells her theoretical man to go get "Becky with the good hair" i.e. some perceived mistress then some woman (a designer) named Rachel Roy tweeted about having good hair and not caring after Lemonade dropped.... fucccccccing ballsy. Anyway, the video album is dripping in blatant "hints" that Jay-Z cheats, cheated, was probably cheating while the video was being shot, and it's just heart-wrenching. 

I've been there. I've been cheated on but frankly, the cheating didn't affect me like I thought it would. I assumed my ex had cheated on me in the past and one night I was just like, "Can we talk about your infidelity?" then we did. It was hard, excruciating but... I was somehow fine pretty quickly after. My ex has done some SERIOUS damage to my heart, more than I thought possible for someone like me: I'm insanely open and forgiving and resilient...alas... those you really love can easily destroy you. This pain was caused not by cheating though, but by other lies he told, betrayals he executed without batting an eyelash. And those are the things that hurt. Those are the things that crush a woman's spirit. It's not the sex with another person. It's the gross disrespect, the spit in the face, the lies, the betrayal, the complete disregard for a life together built. And clearly it doesn't just apply to women, men know this pain all too well. 

Maybe it's fear speaking but I'd rather have an open relationship than ever be in a situation where a man can embarrass me this much and crush my spirit. But then again, like I said, this was done to me and it wasn't even because of cheating sooooo yeah, love is always dangerous, always.

But. I don't think I can handle signing up for a monogamous relationship and having to deal with such an egregious breach of contract or even the possibility of it. Since it's the lies that hurt more than the physical acts, I truly believe I'd have no problem in a relationship where sex was your own business and not for me to control (as long as we're all being safe here). 

Now I must add that an open relationship (for me) isn't just some silly defense mechanism that I'd use trying not to get hurt but in turn is a really bad fucking idea. When I think about a man I'm dating, when I think about him with another woman...that mess turns me all the way on! I know people will always ALWAYS be attracted to multiple people at once; we're just not "supposed to" act on said attraction. I honestly don't see the big deal. If you can love me and commit to building a life with me and honor me based on OUR standards, not society's, I really have no problem with you boning that hot waitress we're both always staring at. Sounds crazy to some but for me I think it's sexy as hell and I believe in acknowledging my partner's sexuality, not caging and confining it. There are always rules, rules in a relationship are just pragmatic, tangible signs of respect. They're great and necessary. I just don't think monogamy has to be one of those rules, not for me anyway.

I can handle you hooking up with other women. I really can. As a matter of fact, I want you to come home and tell me allllllllll the delicious details. What I can NOT handle is disrespect. I can not handle lying to my face. I can not handle the facade I run into like a brick wall you've built to cover up your shame. I can not handle the barrels of lemons men hand women on a daily basis forcing them to conjure up some sort of "make it work" lemonade.

The pain in Beyonce's words is so raw and real it stops you in your tracks. I absolutely dread ever having to feel that way. I know it's always a possibility when you love someone. People hurt people, there's no way around that. But the pain that comes from sexual misconduct due to socially construed rules...I'll pass. Dear future husband, let's just keep it open. 

Getting To Know You... Ok, Me.

I was once told the secret to success is obsessive, relentless persistence. I struggle not to call bullshit.

As a teenager, my dream was to be an actor and I didn’t really see it as a dream, more like, what was going to happen. I rejected my parents’ foolish talk of backup plans because backup plans were for non-believers and at fifteen years old, trust me, I believed in myself. I had the typical insecurities about boys, my weight, my skin, blah, blah, blah but when it came to my future, when it came to acting, well there was no question. I’d be an actress, I’d win an Oscar, and then I’d win another. Believing in my dream was the easy part. What I failed to realize was the work it would take to get there.

My biggest distraction was sex, maybe not sex but, this longing to experience everything, especially love and intimacy. I was raised by two strict, Caribbean parents that kept me on the shortest leash possible so I put all of my energy into breaking free. The energy was misplaced to say the least. Instead of focusing on goals that would propel me forward, I looked for adventure that would let me escape, even if only for a moment.

So, I went out and I got me some! First kiss at fifteen, first real boyfriend at sixteen, virginity lost at sixteen and then boom, first baby born at seventeen. For most, the dreaming would stop there but luckily for me, my teenage delusion was strong. I thought, “A kid? That’s alright, now I’ll just have a sidekick to accompany me to the top!” (In all honesty, I was freaking the fuck out…I could write about one hundred posts about being sixteen and pregnant and they’d all be filled with pure horror… but I still knew I’d reach my goal, simply because I wanted to).

Life marched on. My relationship ended, another began and boy did I just KNOW that this one was it! My childlike sense of invincibility didn’t dissipate until I was well into adulthood. It wasn’t until my second baby came along at twenty-three that I knew my dream was dead. Of course I could still do everything necessary to become an actress but to me that meant being a bad mother, putting my needs before theirs and that wasn’t an option, not then, not now, not ever.

I experienced a deep depression after my second son was born. It wasn’t post-partum; it had nothing to do with having a baby (in fact my second child has always given me a sense of peace…another blog for another day) but soon after having him I realized that I put my greatest dream to rest in order to fight for this picture of a family that wasn’t going to happen. My relationship with his father crumbled in as much of a whirlwind as it was created and the one thing I had a passion for was no longer a viable life choice. Depression doesn’t begin to describe the darkness of that time. I was in my mid-twenties, two kids, on my own, at a daily funeral for any hope for the future.

I learned to stop dreaming. In fact, I avoided it. I didn’t set goals; hell, I didn’t even make to-do lists. The real, tangible option of failure was too overwhelming. I can’t fail if I don’t try. That was my mastered motto. I worked a day job, I focused on my kids and I cringed any time anyone asked me about a five-year plan. I’d protect my heart by never wanting anything again. As long as my kids were okay, screw any personal desires. That mess just got me in trouble anyway.

But.

That can only last for so long. I’m creative. I’m driven. I’m hard working. I knew as a teenager that I was meant to shine. At that age it was this naïve sense of invincibility, the feeling that life would happen the way I wanted it to just because I wanted it to and nothing bad would happen to me or get in my way because well, nothing ever had before.

The perfect recipe for failure: Naivety+Talent+Entitlement.

But the tables have turned.   Now I’m in a place where I’m not itching to shine but to share, share my stories, my experiences and oh hell, shine a little bit too, to be an unapologetic and fearless writer. Remember what it felt like to be fearless? God, I envy children. I’m terrified because this time I’m enlightened to the possibility of failure. Failure is likely. I know I have the work ethic and the resilience to make my dreams come true, but now I’m scared, scared that even if I do work my ass off the dream may still not come true. I hear the teachings that I can do anything, any fucking thing I put my mind to and my gut reaction is, “Yeah, maybe”. I doubt because I’ve lost a dream before, a dream that I loved more than anything in this world.

But the thing is…I didn’t put the work into that dream. I got distracted. Life kicking me in the ass? Ninety percent of those flesh wounds were self-inflicted. Maybe I can try again and do it differently this time. Maybe this time I can stay focused and make it happen.

So here I am, taking a leap of faith. I want to be a writer. I still want to act but I’ll wait for my babies to be full-grown before I pursue that again. They still come first. But in the meantime, I want to write and write and write. I wrote a novel that I love and am excited to put out into the world. I’m going to share some of it here along with my other writings. My stories are short and sweet and dirty and sometimes bizarre. I like them and hope you will too. I need to combine my teenage assuredness with my adult work ethic and make this happen. Do I believe that my dreams will come true if I’m obsessively, relentlessly persistent? Is that really the secret to success? I guess there’s only one way to find out.