Wake up and get your own vanilla mocha!
I've known some women whose bravado and swag would knock you off your Leboutins/Birkenstocks/even your precious little bare feet. Friends whose infectious humor has acted like medicine to my soul. Women with strong opinions, wild desires and a lifeforce you can see glimmering from their very eyes. (I'm not supposed to say this, but....shhhh....women like me...)
When it comes to relationships, though, these powerful, glorious creatures have often become passive, permissive...smaller. I've been there. From the outside, it's obvious that this person doesn't even deserve to utter your name, yet you are going to let him share your time...your heart...your bagel! ...your bed...your life. You are going to divide your confidence in two if he doesn't call or text. You are going to set your brilliance aside and let him walk over you like the cloak cast over a puddle before a princess. Sometimes it seems that more time has been spent choosing a handbag than a mate.
As I said, I've been there, idling in the unknown of someone else's feelings. Brilliant and loveable and sexy and fun and wondering why he wasn't available. So much time spent thinking, "If he really loved me, I would be happy." "If he loved me enough, he would call" "What am I doing wrong?"
But what was I actually doing right for myself and my own dreams, my own spirit? Had I fallen asleep and forgotten to pursue my talents with the same passion I would pursue my relationships? Was I actually available to my self? Was I willing to wake up and be my best self just for me? Recognize my own bright star, emanating out of me like a stadium light from my soul? Could I see that and be that for myself instead of WAITING for someone else to recognize it, someone with no training in recognizing a true diamond in a handful of fakes? Or worse yet, smashing it to bits so its value is irretrievable? Or worse, setting the diamond aside in a drawer, its dazzle forgotten. (Yes, I am a poet, waxing poetic--you're going to get a little melodrama here...) ;)
I'm tired of it. Tired of the funniest friend I've ever known losing her laughter as she worries about why he hasn't called/proposed/brought her a vanilla mocha like he did when they were first seeing each other and seemed to be writing a book about her favorite things. WAKE. UP. Wake up and write your own book. What brings you more alive? Walking in the open, morning air? Sleeping on thousand thread count sheets? Fresh tulips on the table? Writing an entry for unknown fabulous people reading your blog? Make your own list of things that make you feel more alive. Sketch out your own sweet, wide awake dream. Wake up all of us and honor ourselves. And each other. SEE each other. Really notice each other. And LOVE each other.
Or just finally say Goodbye.