The weather has grown colder and the leaves, at least on the non-palm trees have begun to gather on the ground-a reminder that the holidays and colder weather are just around the corner.
Today was a beautiful day; as the sun was setting behind the beautiful palm trees, I couldn't help but take a moment to admire the beauty of it all. I think sometimes I take for granted how great it is to be free. Given where I have come from, it is a miracle and a blessing.
A long time ago, I was afraid of my mother. I was so afraid when she came home, I would physically shake with fear. I had gotten used to her coming up from behind me and grabbing my hair with force as she'd drag me along to whatever destination in the house she wanted me to be in. It used to be that whenever anyone came up behind me and touched me, I would scream because it scared me so much. For the longest time, people thought it was funny to come up behind me and abruptly grab my shoulders, sending me into an instant panic. After the adrenaline rush had subsided, I would get very upset that they had made fun of something about me they didn't understand.
The truth of it was, I didn't tell anyone about my pain. Most people who thought they knew me only knew what I chose to show them. On the outside, I bounced around like tigger, but on the inside, I was full of anger and sadness.
Looking back on pictures from my youth, I can see in my eyes a sort of glazed, dead look-a look of someone who has seen more than they should, more than they wanted.
The truth of it is, I see that look every day in some of my clients. They bounce into my office and think that they are fooling me-but I've seen that look and know it well.
The real question is why they feel that way. I know they have seen things and experienced things that a young mind has difficulty comprehending or understanding. It's difficult for a parent to see that look as they go about their busy work day, working full time, some even with two jobs, in order to keep up their family and stay afloat. They might notice that dead look, but all they can do is watch as their son or daughter grow further and further away.
When a child has the glazed over look, they cease to care. They don't care about the dangers of using drugs-because at least they have something that makes them feel good. They don't care if they get killed in a gang, because at least they're surrounded by people who pretend to care. The worse thing that parents can do to their children is treat them with indifference, as if they don't matter. Some parents treat their children as pets, to be used for their own purposes (such as babysitting, etc.) or ignored completely.
I see the dead look in their eyes and I can't help but know what it means. The real struggle for me, is trying to wake them from their slumber-trying to help them care again. I sometimes feel as though I am attempting to wake the dead. It's difficult to make a child who has been through so much excited about anything-because no one has been consistent in their lives. When people have promised things, they have not followed through. Activities promised have fallen through, and just when that poor child started to care about something, they were hurt. Time after time that happened, until one day-in order to stop hurting-the body's natural self-defense mechanism kicks in, and indifference sets in.
Indifference. Chidren need encouragement and guidance. They can't be left to fend for themselves because this is exactly what will happen-they will join gangs and watch as their friends die in front of them. Pretty soon, they'll try drugs to make the pain they still feel go away... but it won't. And pretty soon, that lifestyle is the only one they know. Dreams like attending college or having a real job are just pipe dreams and unrealistic in a world where respect is law and you have to watch your back every day.
Most of my job is about counseling-encouraging my kids to do what they know is right. Problem is, many of them don't know what's right anymore because it somehow got lost along the way. I encourage kids to care about their future and where they are headed-but most of them haven't even thought about where they'll be in a year, let alone two weeks from now. They are too busy thinking about today. today. today.
These kids are so bright, and they don't even know it. They can talk so well about their sad experiences that it could bring tears to your eyes... but they still are afraid to want more than they have.
In all honesty, I was once one of those haunted children, although it feels like so long ago now. But people helped to lift me up, and made me realize that I could achieve anything I wanted. That mentality has helped carry me through some of the most difficult times in my life... and I want to pass it along to others.
I had the opportunity to visit the real jail for kids-the Youth Authority-where they send the "worst" kids. And though I saw a watered-down "nice" version of the real thing (they let us meet only the best behaved kids), I realized that they talked about murdering people and doing drugs as if discussing the weather. It seemed that nonchalant. I was struck by the realization that these are dead kids that no one had reached out to yet, or had yet to be successful at reaching.
I just wish there was some way to reach every kid, to somehow find a way to wake the dead and bring out the best in each of them. But for now, I feel as though God has really put a difficult task on my plate. He has sent me the knowledge, and has shown me the path to walk, but it is a difficult and challenging one. I sometimes get discouraged when I can't raise a child up enough to the point where he believes in himself. But in the end, I am so glad just to be a part of their lives.
I pray that I one day get the opportunity to have children. If so, I want to lead and guide them and be an active part of their lives so that I never have to see that sad look in their eyes, and never have to watch as they fade away into hopelessness.

The Longest Hour

This might be the most difficult blog I have ever had to write. It all started last week when he called me to ask me what the status was on getting my stuff. I wrote about it on a previous blog. Then, at the end, he suggested we have coffee-a sort of "I'm sorry that we argued" sort of occasion. As the week went on, my heart became more and more sure that he would call and cancel on me, find an excuse or some unavoidable event that made it impossible for us to get together.

I called him to remind him, and he said that we were still going to meet, and suddenly, I realized that something was different. He's always flaked on me in the past, or found a reason to postpone our get-togethers. But an actual meeting meant that he had something to tell me-the inevitability of what would come next was unsettling.

So we left work early and met at Starbucks. I couldn't help but be completely nervous; just seeing him in person always makes my heart do flip flops-an unexpected result of my love for him. He approached me and we hugged, but there was something different about it, something cold. We got our coffees and he asked me how I was doing. I always know when something bad is approaching with him because he'll ask me how I'm doing first, before going into the bad news. We discussed my dog Brinkley and I announced that finally I would be able to take him to my home. I could tell by the look in his eye that he would miss Brinkley; he'd been in his life for over three years now.
"It's not too late for us to have joint custody of him." I joked. Funny thing was, that's not really what I meant, and he knew it; that's how connected we are.
"Well," he paused for a long, silent moment. Then, with a hint of sadness or was that regret? "I can't."
In the next breath, he was telling me that his girlfriend of 10 months was expecting. Pregnant. She was pregnant?

My heart proceeded to drop as he told me that she was already past her first trimester. They knew that they were having a little girl. He told me the news with a sort of saddened pride. I was saddened and imagined my face looking as much without affect as I could possibly stand it.

It was almost like that song, the one I'd played over and over again, by Sarah McLaughlin,

"What ravages of spiritconjured this temptuous rage,created you a monster,broken by the rule of love?And fate has led you through it.You do what you have to do.And fate has led you through it.You do what you have to do…"

This guy, the one that told me that he was never going to have a baby, who promised me that I would find someone before I did, had gotten his girlfriend pregnant. I tried to appear unaffected by the news, and part of me wasn't surprised and the other, was stunned into silence.
The minutes ticked by like hours as he talked about the fact that he claimed he hadn't told me or anyone really, as he was afraid something was going to go wrong. The man who told me over and over again how much he did not really care for children, was going to be a father. Some little girl was going to call him "daddy."

I knew from the day I met him that he would make a good father. We met at a sushi restaurant, he with his arm around a pretty girl, and me with Steve. There was just something about him-the way he talked, the way he moved; I felt different whenever I was around him. But what really made him amazing the day I met him, was the way he treated me. He could tell I'd never had sushi a day in my life and he was considerate and observant. He offered to order for me; offered to teach me how to use chopsticks, etc. Meanwhile, Steve was just sitting there staring at my inability to do it correctly. But even more so was his way of doting on the girl he had brought to dinner. She was gorgeous-blonde hair, blue eyes-little did I know that was to be a commonality in California. He treated her with the most amazing amount of respect. As a stranger, I was sure that they were in love.

My mind forwarded to the present. Here it was, years later, and fate had dealt its hand. He got the very thing he told me he didn't want.

"And I have the sense to recognizethat I don't know how to let you go."

I suddenly got sick to my stomach and my mind started reeling. Everything that was or could be between us, was now erased by the beginning of a new life with someone else. I flashed back to the times we had that were so wonderful.
There was just something about him, right from the beginning. We had this sort of connection, this way of looking at things that went immediately beyond the boundaries of our friendship. It was as if we simply understood one another. He knew just what to say when I needed to hear it. Even when I was with Steve, once in a while we'd travel somewhere all together, and I was never bored. . He had a way of completing my thoughts before I had completed them myself. And yet, at the time, he was with a girl-another blonde-haired, blue eye beauty. But as time went on, I could see by the look in his eyes that he was unhappy. He pretended to be happy on the outside, but those big, brown, expressive eyes told a different story. There was just something about him, something that begged for a closer look. I couldn't help but have a crush on him from the day I met him.

When things with Steve did not go well, I really wanted to talk to him about it. But I also wanted to get to know him better. I called him one night, after school, not expecting him to pick up the phone as I never called him. He answered, and we easily fell into conversation.
"Are you hungry? Would you like some dinner?" were one of the first words out of his mouth. His compassion and caring knocked me off my feet.
And so, our friendship was formed and pretty soon, I found myself calling him every night, spending more and more time with him on the phone. Or I would go to his house and he would make me tea or hot chocolate. And we'd talk about everything. Hours would pass by like minutes.

"Every moment markedwith apparitions of your soul.I'm ever swiftly moving,trying to escape this desire,the yearning to be near you.I do what I have to do.The yearning to be near you.I do what I have to do."

I did everything I could to be near him. Slowly, we became best friends; he'd call me on his way home from work or we'd play games together online. At one point, things with Steve had spiraled out of control, and it was time to move out; he suggested I rent a room from him. Knowing my own desire for him had surpassed what it should, I openly showed little regard for the idea. I knew that if we lived together, my interest in him would only grow and I was afraid of that happening. But he blew down my defenses, and pretty soon, we were living together.

"And I have the sense to recognizethat I don't know how to let you go.I don't know how to let you go."

There was so much about him that was so similar to me that it was scary: we both loved computer games, we both had similar interest and knowledge in computers and how they worked, he was obsessed with Japanese art and architecture just as I was. He loved the same foods, drank similar drinks. What's more, he took care of me. I came home one day or woke up for work (can't recall which) and he had washed, dried, ironed, and hung up all of my clothing for me. He made the best steak on the planet. "Tasty steak" we always called it, was his specialty…

"A glowing ember, burning hot,and burning slow.Deep within, I'm shaken by the violenceof existing for only you."

We got along so well, it scared me. But there were problems. My last boyfriend had been afraid to be in public, and as a result, I had no friends of my own. My friends had been his friends. And when he and I had broken up, I had only one or two friends of my own-but they were married and had little time for me. My world revolved around him. I wanted to get out and go do things with him. But he kept encouraging to find other friends. I felt it was a way of him pushing me away, but in reality, he was merely giving me an opportunity to find myself.

But things aren't always as perfect as they seem. He had his issues, a "newsstand full" he would say. But he was perfect to me. I can honestly say that he made me feel content in a way that I've never felt before or since.

I forward again to the present, and he is sitting in front of me, trying to judge my reaction to his "news."
"I'm really surprised, hon."
"Yeah?" I didn't want him to say anything. I wanted for the news to catch up to me, so I'd have something intelligent to say. But I knew that my heart was taking it all in and drowning slowly.
"I know you've got to be really upset by this, but you're taking this all very well."
"Yeah well…" I choked back the emotion that was threatening to overtake me. "There's nothing I can do now." I said. "I have to support you and be happy for you now."

"I know I can't be with you.I do what I have to do.I know I can't be with you.I do what I have to do."

I did what I had to do-I congratulated him and tried to get to know a little more about his plans for his future life. We talked for a few more minutes, and to be honest, I cannot quite recall what was said. The totality, the weight, of what he had told me was sinking into my brain and my heart and I felt as though any moment I might break down and reveal the truth in my heart. But it had just about been an hour-the longest hour of my life-the hour that turned possibilities and hope into nothing more than the reality that my future was no longer tied to his. In that moment, I realized that a part of me had foolishly held on to the hope that one day we'd work it out-we'd start over, and be the people we used to be. We'd abandon our foolish pride and we'd make it work.

But that is merely the stuff of fairy tales. But still in my heart, there had always been room for him.

"And I have the sense to recognize But I don't know how to let you go.I don't know how to let you go."

My journey must continue onward without him. Gone are the long conversations with my best friend, the games played until the wee hours of the morning, the long walks with our dog. I hve been, in essence, replaced. So many emotions have floated around in my head; part of me felt as though I have failed somehow; I wasn't good enough and that's why he didn't pick me. The other part of me feels as though I had given my best and was wonderful, but never really loved.

I look back and am so grateful for our time together, but I'm also bitter and sad. There was so much in him that I loved. He brought out the best in me. But he also brought out some of the worst. I knew, as I know now, that it was time to move on-time to accept the inevitability of change. The undeniable fact that once again I wasn't what he wanted.

It wasn't supposed to be like this; this wasn't supposed to end up this way. What about me wasn't good enough? How could you turn away from a love as amazing as ours? I can see the look in his eye; he feels the same way. But he's tied to a different future because he made a mistake. But it's too late to go back.

You'd think I'd be able to shrug this all off; but I'm a person. And he was just so amazing to me. He gave me the fairy tale and reality and fit so well in my life that I cannot even begin to describe it. Even now, as I realize that I sound like a love-crazed fool, I remember the good times and realize why we fell in love in the first place.

But I loved him. Love, like so many things in this world, is often a victim, often succumbs to a death formed by our own decisions. Love dies, sometimes fading away like embers and sometimes burning itself out like a flame. And in that hour, that longest hour, I lost the love of my life forever.

My trust issues

I was going to write about something completely different, but let me address something that I have found is really an essential item in any of our lives: trust.
All of my life, I have found it difficult to trust people. That probably stems back from my childhood; when my mom said something, she wouldn't follow through with it. I could never trust her when she treated me well as I was always waiting for her to turn into her other side-the monster that often came out at seemingly random times.
Fast forward to my adult life: trust has become the one thing that I've held onto. Trust is the basic foundation for a good friendship, a good relationship, and a good sense of self. Trust is essential in business negotiations, in partnerships, in When you trust other people, you are more likely to open up to them, more likely to be your real self, more likely to be honest.
Trust is essential in our interpersonal relationships because I feel that if you can't be real with someone, then why have a relationship with them at all? The best friendships, business dealings, etc. are when you can be real and honest with people because they are deeper and therefore more meaningful.
Ultimately, I bring this up because trust is often difficult to build up-trust takes time and consistency.
For example, if you are attempting to build that feeling of trust with someone, there are several factors that you might try to maintain with that person-for example-consistency in your dealings, keeping your word, being honest, etc. Trust, as my friend always says, should be earned, not given.
So when I try to trust someone, I try to see if they're consistent, honest, faithful, true to themselves and others, etc. Then, and only then, I will trust them. Oddly enough, there are only a few people that I really trust. It's always disappointing to find someone that I thought I could trust who betrays me because once trust is broken, it's very difficult to earn back.
I really wanted to take a moment to analyze this: if we do not trust others, then we are closed to them. We do not open ourselves up for the possibility of deeper relationships (or even love) because we won't allow ourselves to reach that level where there might be the possibility of being hurt.
But then I look at the importance of trust. Because it's so difficult to earn, and almost impossible to earn back once lost, I realize that I place a great emphasis in my life on being trustworthy. That is probably why the job I have fits so well with my moral character. I wouldn't say that I'm the best at what I do, but I'm decent because at the very basic level, I'm honest with people.
It reminds me that when I feel people are honest with me, I'm more inclined to listen to what they say. When I'm being sold a product, for example, if I believe they are honest, I begin to build a sort of trust in what they are saying-and pretty soon, I might be more inclined to purchase the product than I would if I thought they were lying.
Even BAD guys understand the importance of trust. Let me tell you something bad that happened to me when I was younger: I was stalked. No matter what I did, no matter what I said, this person continued to like me and continued to do creepy things including following me home, calling my house constantly, putting things in my locker at school, etc. Eventually, I had to get a sort of restraining order and I took a self-defense course. What I learned was really true (if you're interested more in this, you need to read everything you can by the auther Gavin Debecker--brilliant!) ... basically, the bad guys understand us better than we understand ourselves.
They understand that in order to get us to do things we normally wouldn't, we have to trust them. For example, DeBecker uses a real life example in his book "The Gift of Fear." He uses one woman's real life rape story to illustrate how an innate feeling of fear is often our own body's way of giving us a clue that something is wrong. But it also illustrates another point: it shows how a rapist uses his ability to quickly gain a woman's trust in order to rape her. The woman comes home with a bag of groceries, and the man quickly notices her groceries (and notices a can of cat food) and offers to help her with them. He says something along the lines of, "We've got a hungry cat to feed." to make the woman feel comfortable enough to trust the man enough to allow him to help her. Inevitably, he helps her and then rapes her. But my point isn't to point out how disturbing people can be or that you CAN'T trust people (even though I know this is about trust), but my point is simply that even the WORST people understand the importance of trust.
So trust is important to people; it's important to me. The biggest measure of a person in my heart is how much I can trust them. If I tell them things and then suddenly word leaks out, then clearly I cannot trust that person. There are things in my life that are so personal that I've done-mistakes I've made, that I would want to share with someone personally if I choose to. The things I share with people shouldn't be a punch line behind my back or something to talk about.
It's amazing to me that even as adults, many of us still struggle with this. I still struggle with it too. Sometimes, someone tells me something and I just can't believe it. I want to run to that person (not just walk-but RUN) and ask them, "hey, I just heard this... is it true?" but I have to supress my need to "know" and try to evaluate my amount of respect for the person who told me-and my amount of respect for myself. Inevitably, I make mistakes. I open my mouth when I shouldn't. But sometimes, when I am betrayed, I wish that person would have spent a little more time thinking about how it might affect me so that they might just have changed their mind about saying something.
I need to work on my trust issues. I know that having been stalked, having a mom whose behavior changed like the wind, and never really quite uderstanding where I stood, being cheated on, the job I have etc. all made me trust people just a little bit less.
But when I trust less, I also love less. But I am working on being a better person every day. I need to be able to trust, but I also need to believe that OTHER people besides me believe in the importance of being honest and trustworthy in today's times.
One last example before I end this long blog. When my last boyfriend *almost* cheated on me and then lied to me about it, my trust in him was shattered-and I realized something. It wasn't the fact that he had *almost* cheated that really hurt me. It was the fact that he had covered it up and then lied to me about it, even when I had the proof in my hands. THAT was what hurt the most. I had placed my trust in him, and he had so little respect for me that he felt it was okay to lie to me in order to protect himself, even knowing as he did that trust was so important to me. Now, it has inevitably affected the way I am in my relationships-some ways for the better, but some ways, for the worse. I trust less. I ask more questions. I pretend that I don't care, but secretly, I do. Sometimes I am afraid to trust people-because I wonder when the time will come that they will hurt me. But lately, I've realized that you can't hold on to hurts so much or they will completely devour you. Instead, trust in YOURSELF and believe in YOURSELF. Trust the decision you made in the first place-to love someone, to be in a relationship, whatever, and don't question yourself. That's how I think I got stalked originally. I questioned myself. I didn't trust what I was feeling. That's why that woman was raped-she didn't trust that feeling in the pit of her stomach that told her something was wrong.
Ultimately, the greatest trust is the trust you have in yourself. Believe in yourself, the way I, your friend, believe in you. Try to think of how it will make others feel before you talk about them behind their back. Place an emphasis on trust.
What do you think? Is trust important to you? Where do you stand? Has it affected your relationships? Can you offer me some advice?