Tuesday, December 28, 2010

Guess Who Loves Me More Than YOU Ever Did

This Relationship Revelation is not about my relationships with men; it's about my relationship with God.

In my last Relationship Revelation ("Life Nearly Whooped My Ass!") I talked about how God spoke to me and let me know I was coming out of my troubles. And His voice was as clear as my girlfriend, who is sitting in front of me yapping while she knows good and doggone well I'm trying to write this revelation!

Anyway, a few readers Inboxed me asking me to privately share with them how I can "hear" God talking to me so clearly. They wanted to know how I could be so sure it was God and not that lil' voice in my head that warrants psychotropic medications!

Well, the first time I realized God talks to me in a variety of ways was just after Christmas.

I'd just broken up with my boyfriend -- we'd had a huge fight. I was feeling unloved and unwanted. My father was deceased. My brother was living in New York. My sister was living in Dallas. My aunts, uncles and cousins were spread out from Mississippi to Louisiana. All my girlfriend were busy; all my guy friends were, too.

In a word, I was alone. Period.

It doesn't happen often...ya know, me being totally alone. But, life is funny that way. So is God. Yeah, He's got an insane sense of humor! When He wants you, sometimes He will isolate you. This is the first step in hearing God talk to you because, well, He's the only one around you. So, you cannot help but to hear him.

Anyway, I'm driving home taking the same scenic route through the same residential neighborhood I'd  taken all year long. I'm not really paying attention to anything in particular. It was basically house after house of the same Christmas lights that I'd been eyeballing since November. I mean, if you've seen one inflatable snowman, you've seen them all. And the same colorful lights were blinking night after night. Quite frankly, an unfamiliar driver wandering into the neighborhood might be BLINDED by all the damned lights in the neighborhood! But I'd become accustomed to them.

And I decided to pop into the CD player Raheem DeVaughn's first compilation "The Love Experience." Then my favorite track queued up..."Guess Who Loves You More."

The chorus goes like this:
Guess who loves you more (Oh love)
Guess who loves you more than he did (Girl)
Guess who treats you betta than he did?
Me, girl, me (that) that's right me
When you gon' see? Wake up and see
Guess who loves you more than he did (Me)
Guess who treats you betta than he did?
Me girl me (that) that's right me (When)
When you gon' see? Wake up and see?

And as Raheem sings those words, I pass up the same house I'd been passing up for more than a month. In the front yard was a GIGANTIC display of lights that spelled out one word...JESUS. And as Raheem sang, "Guess who loves you more than he did," my eyes fall on that sign. It was like God was actually answering the question.

(Guess who loves Michica more than anyone else in the world? Jesus!)

In my car, behind the wheel, I broke down right there. I sobbed like a fool. I mean, you would have thought someone had shot my dear mother and killed my dog. (Y'all know how I feel about that 4-legged mutt!)  I cried like I hadn't cried since my father's passing. I was suddenly filled with REAL REVELATION that God really did love me. And when no one else in the world was there for me, He had never left me. He was gonna always love me through my MESS as well as my BEST!

Raheem kept on singing. The next lyrics that came were:
My love for you can never be measured (Ain't no doubt about it)
Girl I treasure (Girl don't you ever doubt it)
Each day my love multiplies for you 
Girl as long as Father Time is on my side 
I'm gon' be by your side 
Baby you're perfect in my eyes 
You're my joy and pride
Here's why...girl I love you....you, you, you, you

Child, after that I don't even know how I got home. I was a hot mess crying in my car, and so thankful God had somehow let me know he loved me more than anyone else did. He let me know He was there when no one else was there. And I knew from then on, He would always be there no matter who came into (and out of) my life.

Soon after that episode I started tuning into my life and the things happening in it. I realized that life was not so random after all. I noticed God was putting me in places and situations that would challenge me, but would ultimately help me. He put people in my life to show me something, and the moment the lesson was learned...those folks were gone!

Today, I hear Him whisper to me gently. I'll just be sitting still somewhere reading something. And the words on the page are interrupted by a different set of words -- a message. Sometimes, I'm watching television and my thoughts about the program are interrupted by other thoughts and revelations that come straight from God. It's nothing mystical or magical. Charlton Heston isn't booming around in my brain with a Wizard of Oz type echo! Nah, it's just calm. It's just a voice, and a feeling of comfort that what I'm hearing is right.

Sit still, like the old folks tell you to. You'll hear Him talk to you. But beware: When you're busy with your own life...ha ha...God will LET you be busy. And He'll be there for you when you slow your butt down enough to listen!

Thank you for reading Relationship Revelations this year. It's been my sincere pleasure to share my life experiences with you! And I hope your 2011 is filled with wonderful Relationship Revelations! 


Content copyright 2010. Relationship Revelations, LLC. All rights reserved.

Tuesday, December 14, 2010

Life Nearly Whooped My Ass!

When the housing bubble burst...so did my finances!
I was broke and I was going through the lowest point of my adult life about 4 years ago. I was down to $.78 in my bank account. That's right -- 78 cents, not 78 dollars. And there was no hope in sight for nearly a year.


Here's what happened:

I'd taken a risk and gone into real estate, selling houses. The problem came a year later when the housing  bubble BURST! And my bank accounts exploded right along with it. Closings weren't taking the usual 21 days; it was taking as many as 65 days to close a transaction...and those were the deals that were going through. Some weren't closing at all. And don't forget, the bills come every 30 days and ON TIME!

I'll spare you the details of how I sat in my apartment with all the damned lights out, sweating because I didn't dare turn on my air conditioning. What can I say? Hell, it was hot and dark! To make matters worse, I had to skip my usual diet of fresh food so I could dine on crap like Ramen noodles! Can we say "personal plumbing problems?!?!" And I won't tell you how I became a hermit because my broke ass didn't want to burn up any of my precious gasoline. If you invited me somewhere and you weren't picking me up...I just wasn't going.

Again, my bottom line was $.78 in the bank. Hell, why even HAVE a damned bank account? It cost more to print and mail me my monthly statement than I had in the bank!

So, I prayed. 

And I went to church. It was the only place I was bothering to drive to. Honey, I was in there every Wednesday and Sunday, shouting for the Lord and thanking Him that my lights weren't cut off YET and that I still had Ramen noodles to eat (not exactly a queen's meal, but whadyagonnado?). 

But I'm not a perfect Christian and I'll admit there were times when I wondered if God was even listening to me. 

So, I prayed some more. (P.S. -- I know now that God hears me the first time, but I was a lil' hard headed back then.)

And as I sat in church one Wednesday evening in bible study, about 9 months into my pain and after all my bank accounts were properly drained, I got a Word. God said to me as clear as a bell, "You're coming out. This is over." And when the call for testimony came, I got up and told the congregation about the Word I'd gotten just moments ago. As I spoke, I was sobbing and snotting and hot tears were streaming down my face. But I had to tell these people who had listened to my sad story unfold for 9 months that this was finally going to be OVER! 

And boy was it ever OVER. Money began flowing to me in the form of closings and eventually a job offer with full benefits, including profit sharing.

Then I had a REVELATION!      Life is trouble. 

We are born into this world causing and experiencing all kind of trouble for momma and for our infant selves. With birth comes labor pains, spreading cervices/cervixes, C-sections, forceps, cords wrapped around necks, breech positions, stuck in the birth canal and we can't forget about that idiot in the scrubs slapping a baby's booty! 

But the revelation I had was that the pain and trouble of birth is but a mere moment compared to the comfort of the little baby being in mom's belly all those months. While tucked away in there, someone's singing to the baby and talking to it. It's warm in there and baby gets fed and naps all day. The baby has nothing to do but to rest and chill and grow. 

Then there's birth. 

One minute we're chillin. Then WHAMMO! We turn upside down. (Sounds a little bit like life, right?)

And we go THROUGH the birth canal upside down. (Aren't ya kind of UPSIDE DOWN when you're GOING THROUGH something in life?) 

Sure, birth is troublesome. But it only lasts for a little while. And so, too, do our problems. Ironically, my troubles lasted 9 months, which is what led me to this revelation in the first place.

I guess what I'm saying is this: My life is nice most of the time. And then I go through some troubles. But compared to the entire span of my life, trouble is short-lived. Soon enough, life will settle back down. And I'm happy again.

Now when I go through my troubles, I try not to ask God to get me out of it. I'm learning to ask Him for the strength to endure it and learn from it.

Content copyright 2010. Relationship Revelations, LLC. All rights reserved.

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

Let Me Break You Off This Quickie

This ain't the kind of quickie I'm talking 'bout 
This "quickie" of a Relationship Revelation is my attempt to put an end to the age-old battle between men and women: Ladies want their guys to spend more time with them or the family, but they don't want a broke-ass, lazy man who's home all the time either.

So, what's a girl to do?

Ladies, I'm going to share something with you that hit me years ago. It's made my life LOADS easier since I accepted this small fact-of-life. And it's my hope that it squashes this argument for good between you and your man.

The way I see it, for men, jobs and careers are about more than just collecting a paycheck. There's an element of love in it for them. It's a way of showing us how much they love us. In a nutshell, men are willing to spend 8-12 hours away from us and their children so they can earn the money to get us all that we need and some of what we want. They don't even get to be around us long enough to see us enjoy the fruits of their labor or show any kind of real appreciation because they're off to work again!

Believe me, if a man loves you he WANTS to be around you. He's going to want to kiss you and hold you and touch you and, honey, rub you the RIGHT way!  Whoo!!! (ahem...'scuse me) He doesn't want to be at work fighting to maintain respect and clammoring for clout in the office. He'd rather be getting off to the sexy lingerie you're wearing and not going off on the idiot in the next cubicle who just threw him under the bus!!!

Likewise, holding down a job or career isn't necessarily a lady's way of expressing love to her man and or her family. Sure, she's going to work just as hard as that man does. And yes, she's may be contributing significantly to the household. Heck, she may even be the sole or primary breadwinner. But by and large, women show love through nurturing not through working.

So, the next time you're missing your man and about to start fussing because all you really want from him is some of his time, consider this: A real man will do what he HAS to do before he'll do what he WANTS to do.

And that means, he will go to work and earn that money before he lays up under us (or on top of us) all afternoon luxuriating in the "glow of looooove." Women want to spend time with their men so they can feel loved. But men work hard and long hours away from us to PROVE they love us.

DISCLAIMER: This is not a one-size-fits-all observation. If your husband doesn't want to be around you and is working ridiculous hours to avoid being around you, then don't try making yourself feel better with this revelation. If you're a single mom holding it down in your household, then this is clearly not for you either. 


Content copyright 2010. Relationship Revelations, LLC. All rights reserved.

Monday, October 25, 2010

While You're Worried About My Shit...


I think it was Outkast that said it best:  "I know you like to think yo shit don't stink, but lean a lil' bit closer. See, roses really smell like boo boo-ooo!!!!"

What do a rose and a pile of dog poop, for example, have in common? They eventually dry up and the smell fades. But just like that rose, that pile of crap is still there. And like that rose, that crap is still yours.

Sometimes, relationships aren't just about who makes you feel good about yourself. Relationships aren't  always about who's considerate of your feelings and whether they take an interest in the things you enjoy. Of course, that stuff's fantastic. But sometimes, we must consider whether or not we can tolerate someone's "personal pile of poop." And can we tolerate it for a lifetime if we're considering marriage?

Everyone comes with a PPP ("personal pile of poop") and it can be just about anything:
  • a messy ex-wife or jealous ex-husband -- neither of whom are ready to let YOU go 
  • horribly spoiled and bratty children who get every toy they point at thanks to their guilt-ridden divorced parents (ask any single person who's dated a divorced parent...they'll back me up!)
  • ruined credit because you ran through money like water in your 20s
  • atrocious housekeeping skills even though your momma made you clean up EVERY Saturday and dared you not to be done before Soul Train came on
  • burping, farting and booger-picking openly and proudly (and you're a jerk if you wipe it on the furniture)
  • cussing like you've got Tourette's Syndrome
  • a bad, childish temper
  • a bankruptcy or foreclosure or even BOTH
  • body image issues
  • multiple marriages/divorces (to and from the same person -- YIKES!!!)
Okay, so you get the point. Everyone's got a personal pile of crap -- and I haven't even touched on people who are functioning with hidden addictions to crack and alcohol. But let's move on.

The bottom line is, we've all got a crap (read: "baggage") in our lives. I started to see it in the men I was dating. And baby, let me tell you I got to be an expert at spotting a man's baggage. I could tell you which man was intimidated by my career and I could tell you which man was a mama's boy. I could sniff out the men who were around strictly for the punany and I ran from the men who I could see were needy. And I was worse with my girlfriends' men.

"Leave him. He's trying to use up your money," I'd warn one friend.
"Girl, you'd better drop him. He's got another chick on the side," I'd warn another.
"Uh-uh! He's got future child predator written all over his face. Run girl!" I'd advise yet another friend.

Then one day, in the middle of all my so-called diagnoses I got a "whiff" of something unexpected.

I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but let me assure you it didn't smell like a rose! Baby, I was smelling my very own personal pile of crap! It was like someone came through and watered that rose and accidentally re-hydrated that crap down there at my feet I'd been ignoring all those years.

Let me put it in terms some of you with more delicate palates can appreciate: In the New International Version of the Bible, Matthew 7:5 says, "You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother's eye."


And it occurred to me that what all this really boiled down to is that I wasn't being honest WITH myself ABOUT myself. I wasn't being truthful about my mood swings or my hyper-critical nature , always correcting someone's speech or spelling. (I'm a Virgo. It's what we do. Don't judge me!) Sure, I'd spent 13 years as a career journalist, but not everyone I met signed up to be edited 24/7. I mean, who does that? (Clearly, I did and it didn't win me any congeniality awards.)

Back in the day, I wasn't honest about how unhappy I was at work, or how much I was grieving the loss of my deceased father and taking it out on other people. Real talk...I was only 26 years old when my boss pulled me aside and told me that while the staff extended their condolences for the loss of my father, I was about to get FIRED if I didn't stop taking my frustrations out on them!

The bottom line is, I was building up a pretty big pile of shiggidy right at my own feet. And sometimes, it acts like quicksand. We're stepping all up and through it, but once that stuff's on your shoe, everyone you walk past can smell it.

There really is no solution to this one, because what I'm really saying here is we all come with baggage. For some of us, it's size of a small carry-on bag. And, for a special few, there's a full 8-piece set of Louis Vuitton luggage -- exclusive crap!!!

I suppose I could say something poetic like manure fertilizes roses and helps them to bloom into the lovely flowers they are. THAT'S BULL!!! I'm talking about acknowledging your own crap and doing something about it so that you're a more pleasant person to live with, to BE with. Likewise, just accept that I come with some flaws, and I'll accept yours a lot easier, too. But the moment you start that finger pointing, you kill the relationship. None of us are ever perfect...and I never want to be.

In the end, before you start pointing at me, I suggest you stop and sniff ya own shiggidy and make sure you're not spreading around too much of your own personal pile of crap.

Content copyright 2010. Relationship Revelations, LLC. All rights reserved.

Monday, September 20, 2010

It's My Birthday & I'll Chill If I Want To!

Today is my 39th birthday, and though I cringe to put that number in writing, I'm better now than I've EVER been! I am loving who I am and where my life is today. It's a blessing.

But y'all know I don't write these columns to wax poetic about my fabulous life. Truthfully, there's one thing that's bothering the crap out of me about my birthday.

Since when did celebrating another year of blessed life on this great earth mean I had to throw a friggin' party???

I mean, really?

Somewhere along the way, we got it into our heads that if we didn't "do it up right" among a crowd of 300 people -- all of whom would be eating up our food, drankin' down our liquor, smokin' up da joint and messing up carpets and walls and thangs! Okay, so not every party goes like that. Some people have some very "sophisterated" affairs with a classy crowd of friends who know how to respect the upholstery.

Either way, why is a party necessary at all? Do I need to huddle in a dark club, yell over the music, choke on the smoke, stare down chicks mean muggin' me because I accidentally bumped into them just to celebrate my birth? Do I need to open up my home to people and spend the night worrying what stain will magically appear on my carpet two weeks later because no one had the guts to tell me they'd dropped something? (And y'all KNOW it happens this way!!)

My relationships with my friends didn't begin this way, and they won't be maintained this way. For my birthday this year, I have had friends take me to lunch, cook dinner, bake cookies, barbecue chicken, spend time with me and deliver flowers at work. We've talked and laughed and joked and had a good time looking back on our respective friendships and relationships.

I can't do any of that at a massive party or even a mid-sized one. I can't get it in like that at the club.

So, where does it come from...this need to have a birthday BASH rather than celebrating birthdays intimately? After all, I came into the world intimately on my original day of birth. It was just me and mom and pop and a doctor and a couple of nurses. Everyone was NOT in that delivery room hunched down around my momma's privates waiting to blow horns and toss up confetti once I popped out!

The way I see it, all this birthday bash fever comes from a society obsessed with excess.

It's become about showing off how much we have. And it doesn't matter what we're showing off...as long as EVERYONE in the room understands that ours is bigger and better and newer than anyone else's. So, we have to have bigger parties, with more guests on the list with bigger price tags.

What the heck happened to jammin' in the back yard???

And to further add to the foolishness, we're not ashamed to tell you how much this excess costs. I grew up in a time of discretion. You didn't flaunt money like that. You didn't tell people what you spent on something. But when you've got 16-year-old boys having birthday bashes valued at more than $1 million, I can see how some people would want to...well...appear to keep up with the Joneses! (Super-producer L.A. Reid's son Aaron had the most expensive super sweet 16 on record at Mtv. Daddy Reid ran up a tab of $1.4 million. And $1 million of that was just for having Kanye come perform!)

I guess all I'm saying is this...I value the relationships I have with the people I truly call friends. And while parties are fantastic, I don't need one to be reminded that people love me despite all my uptight, quirky Virgo ways.

Retired major league pitcher Vernon Law is quoted as saying: "Experience is a hard teacher because she gives the test first, the lesson afterward." And the lesson that I've learned is that every day God lets me live is another opportunity to celebrate and try to get it right.

Love life everyone!

Content copyright 2010. Relationship Revelations, LLC. All rights reserved.

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

Did Women Fall Off the Pedestal or Get Knocked Off?


"You don't put women on a pedestal. They shit on you from up there!"

That tasty little quote up there is attributable to Sal -- a sarcastic, wise-ass, fast-talking, wannabe mack daddy character in the movie "What Love Is," starring Cuba Gooding Jr. and a host of other very familiar faces. A guy friend invited me over to watch this fantastic movie about men and women's views on love. And Sal, we come to learn, was hurt when he was just 16 years old and hasn't trusted women with his heart since. 

I can't lie, when Sal let those words fly, I died laughing!!! What can I say? It was funny. 

Sal was already on a high-speed, adrenaline-fueled rant that would've made the rapper Twista beg him to slow down! But he ends his warp-speed diatribe about not falling in love by spewing this "boo-boo based" wisdom while red in the face and spitting as he spoke.

Then it hit me...is this what men really think of us ladies? Do they have to stop putting us on pedestals just to keep from getting hurt? Is a weak rap necessary just make sure us ladies don't have hidden motives? Do men have to fudge the truth a little just to get our attention? Have we really turned great guys into...jerks?!?!


Once the movie ended my friend and I resumed a conversation we'd started before we got into the film.

He tells me that women need to give a brotha a break!

I tell him that a brotha should tell the truth from jump...then he might get a break!

You'll never believe what we were bickering about -- rap. To be specific, a man's rap to a woman.

See, what had happened was...

A girlfriend of mine met a man online about 3 months ago. While there was nothing "wrong" with this guy, per se, my girl decided his opening lines, or his rap, were a small piece of a bigger picture. And the picture might not be so pretty.

For starters, the man made it a point to somehow squeeze it into the conversation that he once had a Mercedes-Benz, but traded in his ride for a more fuel-efficient Camry. (Alright, he's saving money and there's nothing wrong about that.) The man then explains that the house he's living in is about to be listed so he can downgrade to an apartment. Of course, this is also in an effort to save money. (She was cool with it -- the country's in a recession.) Some time passes and he's blowing her head up with all kinds of stuff about what he has, who he hangs out with and how he's living. In short, the man is pulling out all the stops covering everything from his occupation to his workout regimen.

So, when she finally meets this former Benz-driving, health-nut, professional work-a-holic he pulls up in a Camry missing half of its hubcaps -- NOT RIMS, I SAID HUB CAPS!!! And the way my girl saw it, he probably never even had a Benz. The way she tells it, if you once had money for a Benz-sized car note, you should at least be able to keep your hubcaps on. Right?

Fast-forward a few months to present day, and another girlfriend of mine meets this same man. And guess what? He drops the same lines. From the Benzo to the house up for sale to the work-out routine. It's clearly his "rap."

But here's where my guy friend steps in. He says us ladies are reading WAY to much into this and to recognize that the man's trying to impress my friends.

Really???

After hearing some sage advice from a very wise girlfriend, I'm now of the school of thought that women should meet men where they are. If a man lives in an apartment and drives a Camry with no hubcaps, then a woman should accept him just like that, rusty lug nuts and all! There's no need to regale a woman with tales of what "once was." Tell a woman where you are NOW so she can appreciate you NOW.

So, really. Who's right here? My girls who don't appreciate this man's unnecessary game? Or this man for thinking he had to approach women with tales of Benzes and Mtv-type cribs in the first place?

Did a culture of greedy, gold-digging women create the need for men to even begin this kind of rap in the first place? Or did this nearly 40-year-old man not evolve his rap -- better yet his game -- as he matured?

Are women being too hard on men and have we forgotten that what's behind a little harmless bragging is just a guy who's scared to death we may reject him cold and hurt his feelings? Did women forget that men are like peacocks -- the male of the species -- and that it's a man's responsibility to do whatever he can to get our attention?

I guess I've got more questions than answers. But in the meantime, fellas don't take us off the pedestal. Just break out your umbrellas for "emergencies."

Peace.

Content copyright 2010. Relationship Revelations, LLC. All rights reserved.

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Don't Be Bullied By Love


When I was in my 20s, I used to date a firefighter. For the sake of his privacy, I'll call him Kevin. So, I'm apologizing now if, coincidentally, there really IS a local firefighter named Kevin who actually did any of the crap I'm about to describe below..."sorry bruh."

Anyway, I remember meeting him in some mall. And my, my, my that man was FINE! He was so "foyn" he could've been the ONLY man in the firefighter's calendar, holding that waterhose from January to December. Not to mention, he was very handsome and had a killer smile with twinkling eyes and the most beautiful, smooth deep brown skin. 

So, we dated for a little while and I was still living at home with my parents. And I remember not always being comfortable with him because he would always try to get me to do things I didn't want to do. Mostly, he wanted to have sex in the house while my parents were home. Or he wanted to have sex in the parking lot when we'd make late-night runs to Whataburger. I never did oblige him and always managed to shrug him off of me, but I knew it wasn't supposed to be this way in a relationship. 

But then his temper started to show. He'd get mad because I would stick to my guns and not have sex with him in inappropriate places. He'd call me names like "punk" and tell me I wasn't a "real woman" and then try to play it off like he was just teasing me. It crossed my mind VERY quickly that if my own father didn't show me that kind of anger, then this man had no right to bare his teeth at me for ANYTHING he believed I'd done wrong. 

The bottom line was this:  I had to get out of this so-called relationship. 

God was talking to me on this one, but I didn't know it back then. I thought I just had a feeling. But now I know it was Divine Intervention. Something in my gut was telling me to let this man break up with me and to let him think it was HIS idea that we shouldn't be together anymore. Something inside of me said that if I broke it off with Kevin, it wouldn't be pretty and somehow...I'd pay. 

So, I stopped answering all of his phone calls. Or, I cut our calls short. I showed up late to the movies. I didn't have much to say on the phone. I didn't compliment him and always managed to talk about myself. And eventually, I made him feel like I got too busy to be with him. And finally, it happened. Kevin broke it off with me. 

I remember when he did it: It was on a Thursday night when "New York Undercover" was on. And lo and behold, this fool called during a commercial break. (Now that I think about it, maybe he was watching it, too!) He mumbled around for a moment, trying to justify what he was about to say to me. And all I could think was, "Please hurry up before my show comes back on." And he did! He was done by the time Malik Yoba's handsome, yet ashy lipped face was back on my television screen. 

I never looked back.

And then one day, Kevin "came up" in conversation. A co-worker's new boyfriend had come to the office to pick her up. He, too, was a local firefighter. She then recalled that I'd dated a firefighter named Kevin. I corrected her to let her know we'd broken it off months ago. But her new beau knew exactly who she was talking about. The next words out of his mouth I will NEVER forget: 

"Oh, you dated him a few months ago? Well, you're lucky because his last girlfriend just caught hell! They got in a fight and he tore up everything in her house! From what I hear, he hit her and she's pregnant. That fool's got an anger problem. But he's always been like that. You're lucky."

"No, I'm blessed," are the words that resonated in my 20-something mind. 

Back then, all I knew in my naiveté was that being with Kevin didn't make me feel good or happy. It made me uncomfortable and I didn't look forward to seeing him at all. And I was so wet-behind-the-ears that I didn't even realize this man was an abuser. He'd started by trying to get me to do things I didn't want to do. Had I stayed with Kevin any longer, he would've abandoned taking hits to my ego and begun hitting my face. I'm sure of it.

(Note to readers: I respect that some of you LIKE to have sex in parking lots and while your parents/friends are in the next room. Honey, do what you do! Get yo freak on!! The point here is I DIDN'T WANT TO and the standards I established for myself were not respected.)

There's no room for abuse in love, or in life. I've never been spoken to that way again, and I've never been a psychologically or physically abused woman. Nor will I ever be. I'm really happy with the way God arranged my face and my body -- none of it needs rearranging, thank you!

I really do love and respect myself too much for that bull.  


Content copyright 2010. Relationship Revelations, LLC. All rights reserved.




Monday, August 2, 2010

Does Having A Man Mean I'm Being Demoted?

Us single girls pretty much do it all. We earn the bacon, bring it home and fry it up in the pan. We buy our own homes and we clean them. We plant flowers in the front yard and mow the lawn. We go out for happy hour and sometimes foot the bill on dates. And the single moms are doing all of the above while helping with homework, playing chauffeur to an overbooked 8-year-old and pulling double-duty with the laundry. We're at family picnics, shopping at the 3rd coming of the Macy's once-a-year sale and somehow squeezing in Passion Parties. Whew!

Then we meet the guy who wants to be THE MAN in our lives.

Don't get it twisted. We want him here. We're happy he's here. Just by the list I've described above, we need the help. Super Woman needs her Super Man, 'cause let's face it...we're tired!!!

So, what's the problem?

Single ladies have heard from every man in their lives from their pastor to their papa that we need to "let a man be a man." And we want to do that. But it occurs to me that it's easier said than done. Why? Because letting a man be a man means that, in my life, I have to take a demotion. Wow!

Think about it. All this time, I've been the CEO, the board chair, ALL the vice presidents, the secretary, the treasurer, the chaplain and the doggone sergeant-at-arms. And somehow, I'm supposed to give up the CEO seat, relinquish a couple of them-there VP positions and step down to maybe one VP seat, secretary and part-time treasurer???

I mean, that's like asking Wonder Woman to un-ass her Golden Lasso or to share one of her sparkling, bullet-repelling bangles. I can already feel my left hand perching on my left hip as my neck starts the slow swirl, and my right index finger twisting in the air with my lips all fixed to say: "Excuse Me?!?"

Now, I know good and well that in the land of reasonable people, no business or enterprise should be run by a board of one. So, the scenario of me holding all the board positions in my life isn't a great idea. I SHOULD be relinquishing some of these seats to my man. (After he proves his trustworthiness and capability, of course. Mama ain't raise no fool!)

But to some degree, this explains why it's so difficult for some women to adapt to having a man step in and do what a man naturally wants to do for a woman. We're not fighting you because we don't want you to step into your role, but you're asking for us to let go of something we've had a sleeper grip on for anywhere from 1 to 10 years. It's not easy. (And just to be clear, this goes way above and beyond reaching for the door knob and pulling out my own chairs. I let go of those things a long time ago.)

So, when I shared this revelation with a close male friend of mine, admittedly looking for a couple of high fives and a fist bump, he flipped the script on me. (gasp!) He explained to me that as a bachelor, he too had learned to do it all for himself -- the cooking, the cleaning, the laundry and the grocery shopping. And a few of the women who'd made it into HIS inner sanctum were disappointed when he didn't let them cook for him or help with the laundry.

"Mish, she actually said to me: 'Well, if you can do it all, what do you need me for?' " he recalled. And she wasn't the only one who'd said it to him.

So, the way I see it, none of us are too eager to just be giving up VP seats and treasurer positions so quickly. It's going to take time to bring on a new board of directors and make it all work. There's a comfort level we all have to abandon when bringing a new person into our lives. And when you're already pushing 40 or are already past 40 years old, it becomes and even more daunting task.

So, on behalf of myself and the single ladies "holding it down," I'm asking the fellas for some compassion and some time. Our lives can sometimes be like a house of cards, one small bump to the table and it all comes fluttering  down. And gentlemen, we'll work on extending the same courtesy to you.

After all, what are we talking about here? Swapping the yard work for cooking dinner? I'll take it!

Content copyright 2010. Relationship Revelations, LLC. All rights reserved.

Monday, July 26, 2010

She Bust The Windows Out His Car

Let's face it. People get pissed off in love, then it becomes WAR. And there's a whole soundtrack to back it up.

Oran "Juice" Jones -- The Rain
Kelis -- Caught Out There
Blu Cantrell -- Hit 'Em Up Style (Oops!)
Sunshine Anderson --  Heard It All Before
And the latest to join the "Pissed-off Pack" is Jazmine Sullivan -- Bust Your Windows

See how it progressively gets worse? Oran put the girl out of his house, took back all the gifts and told her to "be gone!" Kelis is running up and down the block talking about how much she hates her man. And by the time Jazmine smashes her cheating man's car windows, Blu's already spent up all the money and ruined her man's credit, and Sunshine's warning a brotha that he's got her "bout to call my peeps and take it to the streeeeeeets!"

So, what gives, right?

Men all over the country (and a couple of cougars/sugar mommas) want to know why it has to be this way? They're standing there looking at the ruins of their prized Mercedes-Benzes and Toyota Corollas, and some of them are welling up with tears right now about to break down like a punk in prison. They're looking at key marks from the rootie to the tootie (that's the back bumper to the front bumper); they've got punctured tires. They're looking at smashed windows and headlights. They're looking at Easy-Off Oven Cleaner piled up on the hood. They've got spray paint in any spot there isn't already a key scratch. Oh yeah, and some of them have a brick lodged in the sunroof.

Again, I'm sure the fellas are asking why all the drama over a failed relationship? And therein lies the rub. What I find truly astounding is that some men don't see the damage they cause some women but they can sure as hell see the damage these women caused to their cars.

Meanwhile, it's my observation that women who go to this extreme only do so because they don't feel like the men who've wronged them grasp how much pain they're enduring. If a man were truly remorseful for breaking this woman's heart, she might not be breaking his car!

Now, yes, there are some hormonally imbalanced, emotionally undeveloped women out there who would go helter skelter on a BMW or a Honda if her man forgot a gift on Valentine's Day. But let's be clear, I'm not talking about that woman. I'm talking about the good woman gone bad because she got tied to a bad guy.

Perhaps Jill Scott explains it best in her "Insomnia," in which she croons longingly about her lover who won't come home and who won't call or talk to her anymore. She ends her song with this ironically quietly spoken diatribe:

Time to wake up, put on my strong face
And hope that no one will know
You have managed to turn me
From a woman of substance
Into a 'Brick flying, calling too damn much
Cryin' and cryin', spyin' way down, down low with flats on
From the opposite side of the bar
Easy Off, loaded on the top of your car' chick
I never intended to be this chick...
...After being chased, I've been dismissed
As just an object, something to play with
You have managed to turn me
From a woman of substance to this

The revelation today isn't for me, it's for the cheater with the selfish spirit: If you cause another person pain, bear in mind that what goes around comes around.

Content copyright 2010. Relationship Revelations, LLC. All rights reserved.

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

Don't "Freak" So Fast, Your Souls Are Tied

A guy and a girl see each other across the room during dinner at Grand Lux Cafe, at happy hour at The Drake or during a concert at The Warehouse. They respectively think, "She's cute," and "He's fine."

They play that game and peep each other throughout the evening, checking to see who arrived solo and who came with company. So, the coast is clear because he's rollin' wit da homies and she's with her crew.

Already knowing they're gonna have sex within the next three days, they approach each other and play that other game: who's gonna surrender the digits tonight and who's going to play the fool and wait for that damned phone call! But whatever, it's part of the dance.

Eventually, phone calls are made, text messages and photos are sent, innuendo is flying through the phone lines like crazy and they decide to go out. (Honestly, I don't know why when they both know the goal is to get laid. But whatever, I'm making a point here.)

They have sex and think it's "the bomb." Soon enough, our couple continues to have sex whenever and wherever possible. His place, her place, hell...someplace!

Time rolls on and they make a  decision to date and be together. After all, he doesn't want her sharing her goodies with any other man and she'll scratch out the eyes of any woman trying to get up on what she's got!

But soon they discover they sort of get on each other's damned nerves.

He farts like she's not sitting RIGHT NEXT TO HIM. She takes all her phone calls in the other room and returns texts when she thinks he's not looking. His multiple children's multiple mothers start revealing how crazy they can be. And her children's fathers are getting irate because they "don't know who this fool is!" She's not looking sexy like she used to because she pulled out those tube socks she likes to wear when she's watching television. And he's falling asleep in the bed so fast, she can't get any of that so-called good lovin' that brought them together in the first place. He's with his friends playing too much XBox and she's always asking for money to get her hair and nails done.

The list continues to get nasty, and the sex really isn't as great as they had "selectively remembered." They each start consulting with the peanut gallery for advice and to just basically vent their frustrations. But one thing's clear -- this thing has got to come to an end.

And so it does.

But of course it came to an end. The whole thing was out of bounds, out of line and out of order! Is it any wonder that this so-called relationship fell apart so quickly? Allow me to put a neat little bow on the long, drawn out story above:

  • They saw each other.
  • They slept with each other.
  • They got to know each other.
  • They didn't like each other.
  • They got the hell away from each other. 

This, my friends, is what you call "ass backwards." And for women, this hurts more than anything because oftentimes we feel as if we've been taken advantage of. But keep in mind, with the average guy, they cannot have what we don't willingly give them.

At the heart of the matter, though, is your soul. Yes, I'm going "there."

I learned many years ago about something called a soul tie. In a nutshell, it's the spiritual principle that when two people engage in sex -- in essence joining their bodies -- they also join their souls. And a soul tie isn't broken just because the connection has been broken.

With this in mind, is it truly a wonder why us ladies have such a hard time letting go of a person after a one-night stand? Fellas, is it really baffling that the girl you meant to have a fling with got under your skin and had you whipped? Considering you tied your soul to someone in just one night -- and for some, in less than 20 minutes -- do you now see why you can go crazy when you don't get that call in the next couple of day?

Please understand, there ARE other kinds of soul ties. Parents and children. Husbands and wives. Brothers and sisters.

We are tied to one another spiritually through our physical bonds. But we've got to learn to be a little more careful when it comes to making new bonds with people we don't care about. And this is precisely why I say that our couple moved through their so-called relationship backwards. They tied their souls to one another without even know if they wanted to have that kind of connection.

Next time you find yourself two seconds from whipping out the condom because you THINK you like him or her, look at that person and silently ask yourself this:

"Do I really want my SOUL tied to YOU?"

Content copyright 2010. Relationship Revelations, LLC. All rights reserved.

Friday, July 2, 2010

Don't Trick Off Your Life -- It's Almost Over!

In case it never crossed your mind, your life is already HALF WAY OVER.

Okay, okay. So, if you're in your 20s or are 50+, this message doesn't really apply to you. But if you're in my peer group (late 30s and early 40s), then "this Bud's for you!" Now, I'll say it again. And you read it slowly.

Your life is already HALF WAY OVER.

Let that sink in. Go ahead and marinate on it -- I'll wait. Feeeel the gravity of that statement. I mean, unless you're pretty confident that you'll be living to the ripe old age of 100, it's safe to assume you have, indeed, completed the first half of your life.

And that sucker went by quick, didn't it? I mean, weren't we all in college yesterday watching Spike Lee's "School Daze" and doin' Da Butt? Didn't we just go to the high school prom last month listening to Keith Sweat singing "Make It Last Forever?" I can recall details about junior high school like last week's episode of "CSI." Those of you with children surely have seen the years flying by.

In case you're not catching what I'm throwing: We're on our way BACK into the Pampers!

Right about now, your brain should be kicking into overdrive thinking about how you're going to live out the second half of your life effectively. (And for you Type-A Personality people who figured out your entire life's plan by the time you reached 15 years of age, this Bud is NOT for you!)

It's time to think about whether you're really going to keep getting involved in mediocre relationships? Are you going to stay in the crappy one you're having now?

Answer this question: Do you consider yourself insane?

Well, you know what we say is the definition of insanity -- doing the same thing over and over, yet expecting a different result. So, are you pursuing your lovelife with a touch of insanity? Fellas, are you dating the same kind of girl every time and wondering why it always blows up in your face (and your wallet's lookin' a lil' thinner)? Ladies, are you getting involved with men who keep running the same old game (getting the "cookies" and then disappearing)?

And married people, you aren't exempt from this conversation either. Are you really going to walk into your golden years with the one who makes you miserable? (If you have small children, it's a totally different scenario -- I know.)


Regardless of your status -- married, single or dating -- it all sort of sounds a little insane doesn't it?

I'm imploring you once again: Are you going to let other people and their bullshit cause you to screw off the second half of your life? After all, if you thought the first half went by quickly, just watch how fast this 2nd half flies by!

I shared this Relationship Revelation with a friend of about a month ago. He'd been holding on to a loveless marriage for more than 10 years. Initially, he stayed for the kids, but it all just fell apart. After he and I talked about this revelation, he filed for divorce the very next day. I'm not advocating divorce. I abhor the very idea of it. But what I hate even more is someone wasting my time and filling my life with stress and malice.

Today, I have no answers. Just this one question: How are you going to live the second half of your life?


Content copyright 2010. Relationship Revelations, LLC. All rights reserved.

Monday, June 21, 2010

Don't Move! This is a Stick Up!

Okay, okay. So, no one's really  conducted a "stick-up" since, like, the 3rd grade on the playground. You know, thumb in the air, index finger pointed at  your victim and the remaining three fingers curled back into a partial fist. But the point is, when someone with a gun approaches you and demands all your money, you cough up the goods because you believe that gun you're staring down the barrel of is real.

In other words, you take the crook at face value. You make no assumptions You translate nothing. You hear exactly what he's said. You see the gun. And you believe this is, indeed, a stick-up. Then, you act accordingly.

So, why don't we do that in our romantic relationships? 

Allow me to use myself as an example again. (There's no sense in dragging my friends into this.) My last relationship was with a man I cared quite a bit about. I hadn't seen him for several years, but once we connected again all those old feelings came rushing back. To me, he was perfection walking. He was smart, extremely well-spoken, an awesome listener, sexy as hell and had a deep voice that would have James Earl Jones questioning whether this man wasn't a long-lost lovechild. Whoo! ( 'Scuse me while I wipe drool off the keyboard.)

But things had changed for him in the years we hadn't seen each other. And while my heart picked up where it had left off, he couldn't do that. His life was NOT the same. He had left his wife, was in the final stage of divorce (one signature away) and had become a single father to three small children (two daughters and a son) all under 4 years old! And while he was happy to hear from me again, and confessed that he shared a mutual attraction with me, he said something I should've paid more attention to:

"I don't trust women."

Yeah, I heard him. But I didn't really LISTEN to him. I didn't SEE the loaded gun. My inner "denialogue" went a little something like this: "Of course he doesn't trust women. Poor thing -- I don't blame him one bit. I wouldn't trust women either. But I KNOW he trusts ME. I mean, it's me...it's Mish! How could he not trust Mish? It's ME! I'm trustworthy and he trusts me. He MUST be talking about all those other women in the world because I just KNOW he ain't talking about me!"

Child, I was in complete denial about the fact that this man had told me the truth. He didn't lie to me. He told me how he felt and I immediately excluded myself from the group of women he was obviously speaking of. Because after all, I'm the fantastic, fabulous MISH!!! (Give me a moment to deflate my head and my ego.)

What I'm saying here is when someone tells you who they are, believe them!

And while this great guy never behaved as if he didn't want to see me or be with me, it's peculiar that he was warning me to stay away from him from the very beginning. I'm not even sure he recognized that he'd done it. He said it so quickly as we were chatting about what had happened in our respective lives over the years. It was just a part of his rhetoric.

"I got married...blah, blah, blah...we had kids...so on and so on and so on...she cheated...blah, blah, blah...I took her back...yada, yada, yada...she cheated again...etc, etc, etc...I left her and moved to my own apartment....and I don't trust women," he said. Then we rolled right into the next subject. No one skipped a beat.

The lesson here is I can't blame him for how it all ended. He told me who he was very early on -- he was a man who did not trust women. Plain and simple. No translation needed. Roger that!

So, I say to you the next time you meet a new person and you're chatting and having a good time and enjoying all the "newness," listen to what you're being told. If a man jokes about hitting his last girlfriend and breaks out into a "what-had-happened-was" speech, you can choose to re-enact the battles of Ike and Tina or run! If your new lady tells you she has issues with commitment, you can choose to see her through it or decide it's too much work.

Learn to hear what people are telling you, and next time you find yourself in a relationship "stick-up" you'll recognize a gun when you see one.

Content copyright 2010. Relationship Revelations, LLC. All rights reserved.


Friday, June 11, 2010

At Least The Gold Digger Knows What She Wants

Give it up for the gold digger! At least THAT chick knows what she wants and goes after it. I don't care what Kanye says, if the gold digger can get it, she deserves all that bling!

But what about the rest of us? If you let actor Hill Harper tell it, women should be dating a man for his potential and not for his net worth. He encourages this in his book "The Conversation." And I almost fell for the "okey doke" until I had lunch with my close girlfriend Andrea at the Galleria's former Fox Sports Bar  & Grill. At the time, she'd been married for 8 years so the advice she was about to share would carry a lot of merit with me.

Our table was full of empty appetizer plates (we like to sample rather than chow down), and she snags my tall plastic cup of iced tea. And she slides it across the table in a pool of condensation over to her plastic glass of Coke. She says, " See this glass of iced tea right here? It's never gonna be Coke. If you want Coke, then you order Coke. But trying to make this glass of iced tea taste like Coke ain't never gonna happen. It may LOOK like Coke, but it's not Coke. Period."

Aight. Iced tea is iced tea, and Coke is Coke. But hell, I was baffled. Why'd she tell me some crap like that? I knew I'd ordered iced tea. And for the record, I didn't want any damned Coca~Cola.

Then she schooled me.

Since we'd been talking about the trials and tribulations of dating, she shared a story with me to make her point more clearly.

"I used fall in love with a man's potential," Andrea said, then stared me in the eyes wondering if I was EVER gonna catch a damned clue. "That's what I was attracted to -- everything he could be. I was attracted to the plans he was making and where I saw that he could be in the future."

Hell, I couldn't quite figure out what the problem was. So, the man's got big plans. That's attractive. So, I asked her, "What's wrong with that?"

The she dropped the bomb

"Mish, if he never met that potential and absolutely nothing about the man changed from the day I met him, would I still love this man?" she asked rhetorically. "And I had to learn that if he never changed, I'd better be damned happy with who he was at that moment!"

Oh, snap! She was right. And that's what she meant by comparing our drinks. If I didn't want the iced tea and was expecting it to change into Coca~Cola, then I'd never be happy with my iced tea. I should've just gotten the damned Coke. It's like the gold-digger going after a rich guy. If that's what she wants, why are we all mad at her? (Now personally, I believe women who marry for money EARN every penny of it, but that's a future Relationship Revelation!)

What Andrea was trying to tell me was that she learned to be happy and in love with the man as he was -- in that moment in time. If he succeeded in his goals and grew to be an even better man, then fantastic. But if nothing about him changed, she learned to love the man she was with for who he was right then and there.

She's right.

And while I hear Hill Harper for what he's TRYING to say, it really doesn't wash with me. After all, every time a man buys a lottery ticket, he has the potential to be a millionaire. But what if his numbers don't hit? Or I could be dating a business man's son? Sure, he could inherit the whole enchilada and be BALLIN'! But what if dad gives it all to my man's step mom? Whoops! There goes the potential -- out the damned window! And me and junior have to re-enact the Jefferson's to get our "piece of the piiiiiieeeee!!!" (Ahem...'scuse me!)

But seriously folks, we all leave high school and college with HUGE dreams and aspirations. And many of us achieve most of our goals. Likewise, I'm pretty sure an equal number don't achieve all they set out to do. So, what if the man I'm dating falls into that second category? Should I leave him? Should I be like Jay-Z and Swizz Beatz (who left his wife for Alicia Keys!) and be "on to the next one?"


Nah, I think next time I'll just order a Coke!








Content copyright 2010. Relationship Revelations, LLC. All rights reserved.

Tuesday, June 8, 2010

Think Your Sweetheart's Cheating? Go With Your Gut!

No doubt you've seen an episode or two of Cheaters, the Dallas-based program that follows private investigators looking to expose cheating lovers. And there's no discrimination on this program -- the show goes after Black, Anglo, Hispanic, straight, gay, men and women. They cover the gamut from A to Z and anything in between. They've got office romances, dominatrix sex, men in drag, women-dating-women -- whoo! And, as ashamed as I am to admit it, they've got some of the best brawls on television. Wham-o!

But seriously, the show always starts the same -- with some poor soul in an interview crying because they have a suspicion. They've got that feeling way down in the pit of their stomach -- a sense in their gut that something's really wrong. Can't you just hear James Brown (God rest his cape-wearing soul) screaming in the background "I got the feelin' baby! You treat me bad! You treat me bad!!"

And therein lies the issue. Why not go with your gut? 

Do you REALLY have to hire Joey and his buddies at "Cheaters" to confirm what you already know? Do you REALLY want to see that video surveillance of your man humping some chick under the sheets in YOUR bed? Do you REALLY need to have the image of your woman sitting nude in some naked guy's lap burned into your mind forever? Why in the world do we need our feelings confirmed in such a torturous way? And why do we doubt so strongly what we know and then once we receive confirmation we shout, "I KNEW IT!!!"

So, if you knew it, why go through it?

If you're truly honest with yourself, you'll find the reason you don't want to "go with your gut" might be because you're not ready to let go. You're not ready to be alone again. You're not ready to endure another failed relationship. You don't want to hear from your friends and family who all knew she wasn't right for you and that he was no good.

But the even bigger issue here is when you begin ignoring the very real and physical pain your body suffers when you remain with someone who's cheating on you. When my last relationship took a bad turn, I was in denial about it. I was trying to cling to all the wonderful things he SAID, while I ignored all the crappy things he DID. In the meantime, my blood pressure was up and my mood was down. I had headaches and couldn't eat a thing. I got absolutely no sleep. And I prayed like a mad woman calling up Jesus on the  "main line" like it was part of the Verizon network or something!

Then it clicked. I already had the answer. He wasn't committed to our making our relationship work anymore, and he had other stuff on his mind. He was swimming in his problems and got so far into the water that he couldn't see me at the shore anymore. Our relationship was pretty much over, but I was holding on. And it physically hurt me to do that because it was outside of God's will for me to be with him. It hurt me to operate outside of God's plan for me. 

I'm not talking about that uneasiness you feel sometimes when you have a fight or misunderstanding. A quick "I'm sorry honey" and a kiss can patch those moments right up. I'm talking about downright hurtful pain! And for me, all those symptoms I described above disappeared once I let go of this man and the insane hope that this relationship was going to happen. I had to stop clinging to someone who wanted to be released.

It's like trying to hold a live bird in your hands for too long. They'll be still for a moment, but eventually that bird will scratch your hands and peck you silly trying to escape your grip. Holding onto that bird caused physical pain. Or how about trying to hold onto a car you can't afford? Your bad nerves have you looking like a fool parking down the block and around the corner to avoid repossession. Not to mention, all those phone calls from creditors have you losing sleep and stressing out. You weren't meant to have the car, but holding onto it causes pain. And, dare I say it? Staying with an abusive man or woman is completely outside of God's will for you, absolutely causing you physical PAIN.

But you know what the old folks say: "Baby, let go and let God." So I did. And He did, too.

In the meantime, I think I'm going to catch another episode of "Cheaters" just to remind myself to trust my gut!

Content copyright 2010. Relationship Revelations, LLC. All rights reserved.

Tuesday, June 1, 2010

Relationships at the Office -- Keep 'Em Inside the Box!!!

It's an UGLY fact of life. If you have a job, then you spend more time with your co-workers than with the people you love -- the kids, your spouse, your parents, siblings and friends. And because we spend up to 10 hours with the idiot in the next cubicle but only 5 waking hours at home with our family (2 in the morning and 3 in the evening), it's easy to see how we could be fooled into thinking we have "relationships" with the folks at work.


But we don't. In fact, your co-workers don't owe you a thing but their part of the project due at 3:30. 


A few months ago, a woman from accounting at my old job called me up one evening. What's weird is she and I have NEVER talked on the phone outside of the office. But I answered the phone anyway. Damn.


We went through the usual chow-chow of how wonderful my new job was, the latest gossip at  the old office and the uncomfortable inquiry of whether my new employer had any openings.


And then WHAM-O!!! She starts crying. Crap.


I mean this woman is boo-hooing into the phone like her great aunt Petunia THE MILLIONAIRE just died and didn't leave her a nickel in the will! As much I wanted to use my other cell phone to dial myself and pretend my man was calling on the other line, something compelled me to listen anyway.


She immediately starts telling me how under-appreciated she feels because no one acknowledges her extra efforts. She stays late and comes in early. She joins employee-based committees and finds more efficient ways to do her job. 


Do you hear me? This grown woman is on my phone interrupting Celebrity Apprentice snotting and sniffling in my ear because no one at work acknowledges her commitment. She feels the ladies in her department don't have her back. Oh yeah, the department head brushes her off. The CEO doesn't listen to her. And no one wants to go to lunch with her anymore. But what really upset her was how everyone seemed to be looking out for their own best interests despite the fact that "we have lunch together everyday." 


This is not the Godfather where breaking bread with someone means something. It's LUNCH! 


I asked my 50-something-year-old former colleague how much of what she'd been complaining about was in the "job description." That one went completely over her head. So, I put it to her like this: 


"The only thing the job owes you is a paycheck. The only thing you owe your employer is what's in the job description. Expecting anything more from THIS workplace relationship is a set-up for disappointment." 


And just like that...I'd lost her. I mean, I had to go get my girl off the ledge and feed her this elephant one bite at a time! 


Bite-for-bite, it's like this: 
Bite #1: The people you work with are NOT your friends. Sure, you all manage to get along for 8-10 hours a day. But that doesn't mean you're friends. After all, do you participate in each other's Thanksgiving dinners? Or, do you go to each other's bridal showers? Do you vacation together? Or, maybe you all attend each other's baptisms, Christenings and bar mitzvahs. Sure, there's the occasional happy hour. And maybe the kids get together for a birthday party at Chuck E. Cheese. Hell, you may even hang out at the office Christmas party. But this doesn't equate to friendship. (If you've been at your job 10 years or longer, you may be exempt from this line of thinking.)


Not sold? Try this...


Bite #2: If your co-worker got laid off today, would you offer up a portion of your check to help them pay this month's mortgage, get some groceries and keep the lights on? Would you take up a collection in the office?  Hell no! You're butt would be at the water cooler professing your thanks to God that you still have YOUR job in front of anyone pumping that Ozarka!


(Another chunk of elephant coming right up!)


Bite #3: Understand that for most of us our job descriptions fit inside a tidy little box. It's concise. It sets boundaries and it is what it is. If it's going to change, most times it'll come in writing. And when you choose to step outside of that box, you should not expect to be thanked, appreciated, revered, honored, admired, respected, venerated, worshiped, adored or idolized because of it. It's a gamble you take to try and move ahead, get up the ladder. 


When going above and beyond doesn't work out, you get your butt back in the box and do your job. Then you get paid. And you call it even. You keep your unrealistic expectations in check. Then you thank the Lord above that YOU have a job in this recessive economy where a single oil spill has wrecked the entire southern coast's fishing industry INDEFINITELY.


It's like being a kid at Christmas. When you were around 5 and 6 years old, you got everything you wanted and were HAPPY! You got the Atari 2600 with the PONG and Q-Bert game cartridges. Then somewhere around 9 years old, your grandfather decides you need a globe to help you in geography class. WTF??? And grandma gets you a big ass pack of tube socks "cuz you growin' baby." Man, somewhere around 11 years old, you learned to keep your expectations in check. That way, if you got a pocket protector at 13 you wouldn't get your feelings hurt. 


Office relationships should be approached the same way. Keep your expectations of your co-workers in check. Understand these relationships are more of a "cooperative spirit" to get the job done. But they aren't true friendships. 


The people who truly have your back are your family and friends...and they're not goofing off in the cubicle next to you.


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