I’ll try to keep this under 60,000 words in light of the space constraints of this page. This subject, however, has been long avoided in my writing, because it pisses me off to a point where I rant uncontrollably and never really get to the point.
Maybe with these constraints I can have some type of cohesive thought process to get my message across.
It is in our nature to have expectations from other human beings. It is not only the joy that makes our lives fabulous when it happens, it is also the down right shit when expectations are not met.
Interestingly enough, expectations are usually a one way street. It’s not often that people are on the same track when it comes to what they want and expecting the other person or people to provide it.
It is rare that people remove those expectations and see you for who and what you are and accept that.
I know, we can’t really control our feelings and emotions and they often takes us to places we know we shouldn’t go.
We expect things like respect, compassion, understanding, love, and the list goes on. We also tend to expect them on our terms. It’s the selfish side of human nature.
I have found more often than not, that people have a certain expectation from me as a woman, friend, lover and writer. Because I care about people, I have found more often than not, how easily I slip out of my personal universe and mold myself into what other’s need. Being a person that creates from a dark place because of my journey, caring about people and not wanting to hurt them is the one ray of light next to motherhood that keeps me grounded. What I find in that action is that I am the one in the end that pays the price.
Don’t get me wrong, I can’t blame anyone else for my decisions, but I will say that the ray of light aside from motherhood is waning and dangerously close to being extinguished.
I’m actually really tired of trying to meet everyone’s expectations. I have been under one thumb or another for most of my life and am finally at a place where that is not the case. My life is MINE. I can do with it what I want. 55 years into the game, I can own up to being selfish. I’ve earned it. Every decision in my life is mine to make, not to meet someone else’s expectations, but to meet my own.
The only things in this life I HAVE to do are be black and die, aside from that, the rest belongs to me. I am filled with love and passion and I’ve spent a lifetime suppressing it. I have never loved anyone but my children with 100% of me because I know the cost in doing that. I have always kept that 10% of my love in a safe place that no one can reach, and it’s been the only life raft I’ve had through the years when everything when to hell.
Someday, I’ll write a book about that 10% because it truly is the darkest place in me, the survival switch.
My best advice to those that “care” about me is to accept me as I am, don’t try to push me where I don’t want to go, and be true to the value of friendship and trust. Once trust is destroyed, there is no going back. Not for me anyway. I am loyal to a fault when it comes to friends, but I am also able to flip that switch if you have intentions that will inevitably cause me harm.
After these past two years of encounters with expectations, I’m standing my ground. Don’t expect anything from me and you’ll likely get everything from me.
In closing, I will apologize as I was unsuccessful in keeping cohesion in this piece, and yes, it’s just another rant.