Post 12: Desperation Isshas, Part 2

(Be forewarned. This is a loooooooonnnng post. Even for moi.And I STILL didn't say all I wanted to say.)

This whole desperation issha is a trip.

And what's funny, this was a subject matter that did not make the cut for my "40 in 40" posts.

It was just a bit too personal.

Plus, I couldn't figure out how to write it.

But over the past couple of weeks or so, there's been a blowout in the mainstream media on the plight of black women. I was particularly disturbed by a report I saw on one of the major network news programs.

I was sitting there watching the graphics flow across the screen. You know, that same ol' tired craziness, where they show the number of black women to men, and they figure in all the black men who are incarcerated and homosexual (and start crossing them off).

Basically telling us as black women that we have little chance of ever getting married.

That's probably not what they are saying. But interestingly, that's what we hear.

Me personally?

I feel like none of this applies to me.

Let me correct that above statement: I CHOOSE to believe that none of this applies to me.

If I want to be married, then that's what I need to pray about, and prepare for.

PERIOD.

You see, everything with me is a faith issha.

And sorry, I choose not to place my faith in some statistic.

Now, with that said, I can't say unequivocally that I want to be married, or even in a relationship. I can't say that from my heart, you know. It's just not a thing of importance to me. If I did say that, it would be to appease people in general, so that they would think well of me. (You know, when you honestly look at the matter, wanting people's approval is the gist of our problems. Really.)

You may gasp at what I just said.

"Why LadyLee, why would you say that? You need someone! We all need someone!"

This is true. I don't deny that.

Yes, I would love to have someone in my life. I am a warm blooded female. I would LOVE that.

But I have a couple of interesting prayers out there. One of which is, "God, I do not want my cart before the horse."

Meaning, I want things decent and in order in my life. That's a lot to ask for, but if I can get that on the relationship tip, I'm straight. This means to me that I don't want anyone in my life on a serious relationship basis until it is time for such.

For I know what it means to be hooked up with a man you not even suppose to be with.

Every woman does. We ALL have our stories.

I truly understand how the course of one's life can change for the better or for the worse if things are out of order.

I was married once, but now I'm divorced. I've talked about this periodically on this blog, but don't talk about it much. No, I ain't bitter about it at all. It's just not anything that rents space in my mind. I've made my peace with it. It's in the past.

But I have a deep respect for having enough sense to choose who I deal with... and choose very wisely.

But I want to roll back the reel of my mind, and go over a little of that film.

So bear with me. I am long-winded.

*Lights in the House of LadyLee go down. Lee sets film in the projector. Participants don their 3-D glasses*

Once we decided to get a divorce, it really upset me. I wasn't really even upset with him. It wasn't a "Oh no, please don't go" type of situation. Me and and the ex- hadn't lived together in two years by that time. I was basically living on my own. Hell, I didn't even know where he lived, or where he was half the time.

Now, I got a job offer for my current job back in 2001. I was in a post-doc position in New Orleans at the time, and had been there for 2.5 years. We had an apartment (2 bedroom, 2 bath), and my ex's little brother was living with us.

Both of them were sorry as hell. His brother, who was 20 at the time HATED women. It was just awful. I wasn't even around most of the time. I had a friends Uptown and on the North Shore, so if I wanted to be elsewhere, then I was ghost. I had emotional affairs. (NOT a good look.)

One day, my husband had told me "You know, I'm not giving you any more money towards rent and bills. I'm saving my money."

Let's just say, I was miserable. I was doing okay with taking care of all the bills and what-not. And to tell the truth, I was doing okay, because I had started getting myself back together spiritually (which meant cutting out much of my disappearing, etc.). So those last 6 months that I was down there, good things were happening for me REAL fast. I mean on all fronts. My life was looking up.

And that's all I could ask for. And as for my husband, stuff was going downhill for him. His car got repossessed, amongst other problems. I'm not sure how that was happening. I mean, dude wasn't helping with rent or bills. Not sure where his money was going.

(Not a good idea to be trying to get over on people, is it?)

But I got this job, and I hauled tail back up to the ATL. My ex decided to stay in New Orleans. I didn't care what he did. EVERYTHING was in my name, and I cleared all that up. Him and his brother would have to find somewhere else to live. I have no idea where they went, but I didn't trust him to keep up anything in my name.

(You hate to do that to people, but whatever. Irresponsible people don't deserve breaks.)

Anyway, I came home to the ATL, and I found one thing that I'd been truly missing:

Happiness.

Good things were happening for me. I actually liked my job (imagine that!). I was back near family (back around people who actually loved me, which is what I REALLY needed). I was experiencing a LOT of strange debt cancellation (which shocked the cheese out of me).

Life was good.

Meanwhile, for the ex-, he was going through some craziness. Everytime I talked to him, he was wailing about all his troubles. He had this thing for guns, and someone had stole them all. Dude was getting robbed left and right. All KINDS of craziness.

Well, all I could do was be the good wife and console him. (Dang, that sounds a bit off).

But he was wailing about how he missed me and all this.

Interesting. I was very quiet when he was like that. No response from me. I didn't miss him at all. All I could say was "Uh, uh... okay."

Sorry ya'll, but I had felt that I'd come "unhooked" from something. I mean, life was very GOOD for me at that time. I can't explain it, but I felt like not being around him had opened some type of floodgate over my life.

And I wasn't interesting in him being in my space or me being in his. Not one bit.

Plus he was doing all this hollering about having to stay in New Orleans a little longer to "handle some bizness".

(Yeah, he'd gotten involved in the drug game. I don't know how my tail ended up married to a drug dealer. HARD SIGH!)

I wasn't convincing him to come to the ATL. He could stay donw there as long as he wanted.

But, he ended up moving back up here to the ATL. And I didn't know it. He called me one day, said we had to talk. I dodged him. (I had other plans that night. You don't just call me out of the blue after MONTHS of not hearing from you and expect me to be cool).

But we talked later. He would even come over. Whereever he was staying, he got evicted, and was living out of his car. I told him he could stay with me if he wanted, but he could tell in my voice that that wasn't an option, and I would be VERY UNHAPPY if that ever happened.

(Typing this... uh, it feels a bit strange. But it is what it is.)

Now, during much of this time, we would get together periodically. He would come over. No, nothing sexual was going on. There was much kissing and whatnot. Not sure what that was about. For whatever reason, I wasn't interested. It was almost like we were dating or something.
Very strange, looking back on that.

During this 2 year span, I'd been diagnosed with lupus. I'd gotten really sick, and was at the same time, dodging him. There was a big blow up about all that. I had to hear a lot of "I'm your husband, I should've been taking care of you, blah, blah, BLAAAAH!!").

Yeah, okay. Whatever, dawg. I managed on my own, with the support of my family.

(He wailed something terrible about that. I kinda felt bad about my behavior... if only for a minute).

Finally, I called him one night and asked him what he wanted to do: He said, get a divorce.

Ohhhhhhhhh, I was so upset and hurt. It was 1 o'clock in the morning. I called my best friend LadyTee and we talked about it. She let me cry. She listened.

Now, I know I'm being longwinded, but I wrote all I wrote above for a reason. Now, this man said we should go ahead on and get a divorce. Why was I all upset? I mean, I was dodging this man HARD, even when sick. He'd talked about me getting together some marriage counseling for us up at my church, and I was like "yeah, alright," yet still dodging all that. He was more than a little frustrated with my happy-go-lucky tail.

Why was I all upset?

I'll tell you why? From the moment he said we should get a divorce, I started building pictures in my head.

I started building a House of fear next to a pool called desperation.

I started thinking, "Oh no, we can't get divorced. I gotta get out here and compete and go clubbing and meet new men, and be all out in the streets hunting for men! OH LAWD!"

Never mind that I was happy being alone. I think there were even a couple of dudes I liked (but wouldn't run up on, being that I was married). In other words, I had male friends.

Let me repeat: I was happy being alone.

With that said, what would cause me to even think about all these things? AND be upset about them?

Me and LadyTee talked for a half hour about it all. She told me, "Look, just pray about it. Go pray."

Good enough.

Interestingly, I wasn't praying about my marriage during this time.

Newsflash: I DIDN'T CARE.

However, I always prayed for the ex. He was having so much trouble. I felt bad for dude. (But not bad enough to help him. I didn't have enough resources to help him anyway).

But I think that was the first time that I really prayed about how I felt about everything.

I got a real interesting answer to that prayer, right then, right there, while down on my knees.

And it was enough of an answer for me to immediately stop praying.

Because that was the end of that.

"Desperation is not an option."

5 simple words. No explanation. Just 5 words.

Now, I've gotten A LOT of answers to prayer. So much so, that it would take hundreds of posts to flesh it all out. But that particular answer... I don't know, it has always stood out to me. I have spent years digging around in that answer. Journalling about it.

It's even scratched out on a piece of paper off in my smile box.

5 really simple words. Yet they always stick with me. It seems like a week hasn't gone by where I haven't thought on it, and understood it better and better.

And all this hoopla about how desperate us black women are has REALLY brought it back to memory for me.

I know that when I got that answer, I INSTANTLY felt better. To the point when the ex and I talked about it again the next day, I was cool. Told dude let's get the ball rolling. Get this thing done.

For I recognized one thing immediately.

Holding on to a bad marriage was a desperation move.

And check it out... and think about this: I was being desperate on a passive aggressive tip.

(Think about that. Especially people who know me. I am EXTREMELY passive aggressive. Something I truly hate about myself.)

It was very obvious that neither one of us needed to be in the situation.

I had spent a couple of years living on my own. I'd been by myself. It was like a big seperation or something.

But I was, realizing now, hoping that he would change on his own or something. I mean, he was a great guy. We'd been together since we were around 24 years old. We'd been in each other's life for 9 years. Would probably still be together if we wouldn't have moved to New Orleans. New Orleans is a very special city. A bit free spirited than most places. And he got around the wrong people, and went in a bad direction.

But back to the answer:

"Desperation is not an option"

I read La's post yesterday, and I saw the tentalces of that answer stretched all throughout that post. And I understood a whole nother layer of that answer.

Desperation is not an option. This means that it's not even on the list when choosing what to do.

It is not even up for consideration.

It shouldn't even cross my mind.

For me, over the years, it has meant making SURE I don't let my emotions get out of control to the point where I don't get with a man who I'm not suppose to be with. This means not, under any circumstances, getting with anyone who will not build me up, who will not bring peace to my life, and who will not help me become a better person.

Not an option.

And vice versa. I don't want to get with someone, and I don't bring peace to their life, or help them be a better person. (I REALLY think about that alot. The worse thing that could ever be said about me is that I knocked someone's life off course, and their life went downhill. THE HORROR!)

Nope. Desperation is not an option.

It is not a choice on the Menu of Life.

Nope.

But reading La's post a couple of days ago really stirred up my dormant thoughts on the whole matter...

I actually went and looked up the word "desperation".

I was amazed to see what it meant:

Desperation is defined as:

Reckless or dangerous because of despair or urgency.
Having lost all hope; giving in to despair.
Suffering or driven by great need or distress.

My goodness. That's just too much.

Then, I looked it up in a thesaurus, so I could check out the synonyms. THAT was really interesting.

It is synomymous with being anxious, at end of one's rope, blue, brokenhearted, can't win, cynical, dejected, depressed, disconsolate, downcast, forlorn, frantic, grief-stricken, hopeless, in pain, in the dumps, in the pits, in the soup, inconsolable, melancholic, miserable, no-win, not a prayer, oppressed, pessimistic, sad, shot down, strabilious, suicidal, sunk, weighed down, wretched

**crickets**

GOOD GRIEF. Ya'll need to get on somewhere with that "not a prayer" bizness. Let's not even talk about the word "Suicidal".

*Lee clutches the pearls*

(And could someone PLEASE tell me what the term "in the soup" means? What's up with that!!!?)

Man, I see toooo many words up in there that rub me the wrong way.

Then I looked around for the antonyms, some of which are:

auspicious, bright, encouraging, expectant, hopeful, optimistic, promising, propitious, rosy,calm, collected, easy, mild, content, contented, satisfactory, satisfied, prayerful.

Those are good words. Especially the word "prayerful". That makes me feel good.

No, desperation is not an option.

Desperation is not an option.

And it would've been a desperation move to stay with this man, who was not really even a part of my life anymore anyway.

We ended up going through with the divorce. We sat in a sandwich shop across the street from my job and drew up our own paperwork. I was all weepy. And it was because I can't STAND failure, not because I wanted to be with him. That wasn't an option.

I must say it was sad when we were at the courthouse, and the judge asked him if he was sure about the divorce. He got a bit choked up, like he couldn't answer the question. I kept answering for him. The judge was like "I'm asking him, not you."

But it was over.

And I was thrown back in the pool of all of us pitiful statistical black women.

Well, peoples... I choose not to accept the statistics.

I choose not believe what the media preaches at us.

It's almost like what was said in that sermon on identity crisis a few days ago...

It's like the media is saying:

"ATTACK THEIR IDENTITY! ATTACK THEIR IDENTITY!"

This is nothing but an attack on our identity as strong black women. Period.

Nothing else explains the rash of dire news reports. Nothing else explains it.

I've gotten in MUCH trouble over the years, when I tell a man that I don't know if I see myself getting married again. I'm pretty comfortable with my life, as it is for the most part. I just want to be happy.

A dude said once "But the statistic is 10 women to 1 man in the ATL!"

I said "And? What that got to do with ME?"

Bump a statistic. I don't live my life by statistics.

Looking back over the years, I remember telling a man who I REALLY liked that I didn't want to pursue a relationship with him. I liked him, but it wasn't for me.

I told a friend, that was the moment I was so very PROUD of myself. So very PROUD.

I knew then, right then, I wasn't a woman of desperation.

And I never will be.

I am like any other woman. I love, love, love men. I want love in my life.

But I want it to be healthy... and in due season. At the right time.

Not because I gotta beat some statistic. A statistic that's a LIE, as far as I'm concerned.

My goal right now is to work on the isshas of LadyLee's life... and to find and dwell in that special place called HAPPY.

There are men out there. Heck, I had a convo with a male friend the other day. He desires to meet a woman and get married. Got his own house, good job. Can't find a good woman, though. Told me that a bunch of us have gone bisexual or something.

*long confused horrid blank stare from LadyLee*

I slapped the *crickets* out the way and told him not to give up. He'll find someone to love. In due season. Just don't get desperate.

In church one night, one of our informal Friday evening bible studies, the assistant pastor passed the mike around and let folks give their thoughts on dating.

A fellow stood up and said he had trouble finding women because of his promise to himself to work on being celibate. He said the sisters find that "challenging" and it scares them away because they can't handle a faithful man.

This disturbed ALL the females in the chapel, even myself. This dude was a dead ringer for Boris Kudjoe. Could've been his baby brother. (And he's having trouble finding a mate? REALLY!

So don't believe the hype. Hype is what it is: hype. Don't give credence to the statistics.

There are men out there. Plenty. Believe that.

You just want the one that's yours. Those two fellas I just described... I imagine they want what is theirs, what's made for them.

Turns out desperation is not an option. Whether male or female.

But being prayerful is an option.

Being hopeful and optimistic and expectant are exceptional options.

Maintaining your identity as a strong woman is an option, too.

So, that's all I have to say about that... My thoughts on this thing called "Desperation".

Don't believe the hype. You are destined for greatness. You have purpose, whether there is someone in your life or not.

And because of this, there is no need to get all desperate.

It's not a good look. For none of us.

*Lee turns off filmstrip of her past. People take off their 3-D glasses... and continue to ponder.*