Single-Mooning: Falling back in love with oneself one day at a time

Restore to Factory Settings I write songs.  Well, let me clarify that. I write snippets.  Whatever I am feeling, whether it is dealing with a break-up, frustration with work or parenthood, or overwhelming joy from one of life's sweet moments, you will constantly see me grabbing my phone to record a 30 second melody that accurately and musically captures the moment. Music, just like writing, is my free therapy, my outlet. The Samsung I used from May 2015 to July 2016, the one I just recently transferred to my daughter, had over 114 snippets saved, These were melodies hastily sung into my phone at a stop light, between students at work, during my early morning quiet time, during sleepless nights---any time an emotion roared from within that needed somewhere to go---all of these were on that phone. Over 114 snippets of joy, angst, happiness, sorrow, all capsuled on her phone so that someday "when time permitted" I could go back and turn these snippets into completed ...

Missed Exits          Since I started my blog, I have intentionally tried not to make my posts too spiritual.  Most of the time, I’ve just wanted to be encouraging to anyone in the season of singlehood like me and remind her that she’s not alone and also maybe offer some ideas for some super great “me-dates.” But there are some times when you have to put all that political etiquette to the side and simply call a spade a spade, be totally transparent and realize that a Power greater than you is trying to get your attention by any means necessary . THIS is what happened during my trip to Atlanta. I went to visit my best friend before she headed overseas to teach for 2 years. While there we had a ball, eating foods that had no nutritional value whatsoever, staying up til who knows when, having girl talk about life and dreams and men and cooking and babies and love and reality tv, and photo-bombing random strangers just because we felt like it! The trip ...

The (Impossible) Standard of Perfection              A great minister friend of mine asked me to be careful not to make my site or speaking engagements “hen parties focused on male-bashing.” I try to ensure that this is a positive place for me to share my growth with others and a place for those who are enduring/have survived these trials to relate.  While at times I may share intimate details regarding my dating disasters, railroaded relationships and crashed coupledom, it is only to illustrate that I am not my scars—I am the woman who rose above them!            That being said, I felt the need to share a moment of clarity. I’d just worked my 1 st 11 hour work day of the year, serviced more than 50 students via phone and office visits and somehow dragged myself home to cook dinner for the little one. In short, I was exhausted. The suitor stopped by, saw me in sweatpants sans makeup and looked me up and do...

You are a game-changer! That’s right, I said it!  While it is so cliché we almost ignore it, the statement still holds true: “If you always do what you have always done, you will always get what you have always got.” Those who know me, never believe me when I say this, but I’m shy. I have never been the type to enjoy walking into a room of people I don’t know to introduce myself. I can remember being in college and being so fearful of going to the cafeteria alone that there were some times I wouldn't even eat. If someone wasn’t arriving with me at a meeting or an event, I was not going. Period. Even in adulthood, I’ve struggled with my not-so-little fear. I didn't want to join my massive church choir until I had a friend to tryout with me. My shyness (and fear of rejection) have gripped me to the point that I realize I have suffocated my potential. Yes, I finally see I’ve put so many of my dreams in a chokehold because if my sister or...

Awwww, Valentine’s Day.  The day that most folks are out spending time with their honey bunny and eating overpriced chocolate hearts and just really making it hard on a single gal. Everywhere I turned this weekend, there were folks holding hands and sharing PDA’s. Even the nail salon was full of couples! I called myself taking my mind off of the romance drought by treating myself to a pedicure but nope! Even there, people were getting COUPLE’S pedicures as the nail tech drew hearts of lotion on everyone’s legs at the conclusion of their appointment. Gag me, please!!!! This would not have even mattered not so long ago. I counted and realized that I have ALWAYS had a valentine. And by always, I mean from high school til 2013. Count that with me…..I’ll wait….that’s right—that’s 15 years of consecutive roses and cards and candy and jewelry and emails and love notes and teddy bears. Not a bad run, if I say so myself. Not a bad run until now, that is! This is year two of the...

Why I’m No Longer Mad at Eve                 In my younger years, I spent a good portion of my time mad at Eve (and Adam too for that matter). I was told that the pivotal day in the Garden of Eden, that life-altering moment that they decided to partake of the forbidden fruit, is the reason we women have cramps. So once a month, Eve was the subject of many a cry fest as I writhed in pain. I was told that Adam is to blame for the fall of man, for man getting kicked out the Garden, for the beginning of the end, and that he and Eve are the reason the whole world has literally gone to ___ in a handbasket. “Aaaaargh!!” I would scream when I thought of how tranquil life would be if they had not eaten that dog-gone fruit, when I envision us dwelling in paradise, walking with God. Imagine never having the daunting task of picking out clothes for the day because the dress code in the Garden was… well….your birthda...

As you all know, writing is ooober therapeutic for me. I realize that holding in one's emotions can be toxic, so I will often write a letter to my hurt or the one who hurt me, not to send it, but instead to prevent myself from suppressing it. Below is a letter entitled "Someday," for your reading pleasure. "Someday" Someday you will be just a memory. I will laugh at the fact that I ever even knew you. That I ever missed a meal so heartsick that I lost my appetite thinking of you. Someday the thoughts of our pillow talk, The sweet promises you whispered won't make my cringe, Won’t cause tears to silently build in my eyes until they tumble down my cheeks, Liquid pain, lost hope, tainted heart, crippled dreams.   Someday I won't remember how my hand fit yours, how my body fit yours, How our breathing patterns matched when we'd settle down into each other's center,  That the warmth of your breath on the back of my...