Invite Me

I, with a deeper instinct, choose a man who compels my strength, who makes enormous demands on me, who does not doubt my courage or my toughness, who does not believe me naive or innocent, who has the courage to treat me like a woman.~Anais Nin

So, I have read and reread this quote. Here I am staring at each letter, comma and pronoun trying to decipher its full meaning. Not wanting to infer more into the quote than Ms. Nin intended but, also not wanting to ignore the sentiment behind each character, I read it again.

1. "I, with deeper instinct..."-According to the online dictionary, the word instinct comes from the Latin word Instinctus which means Impulse. As I thought back to the beginning of some of my relationships, I can remember sitting across the table from a well intentioned potential suitor thinking, no he is not for me. That initial reaction was my natural gut feeling or impulse or instinct. It never failed that sometime during the course of dinner or coffee or the walk to my car, I would decidedly ignore the instinct and choose (I mean this literally) "hey, he's a nice guy, give 'em a chance". And then inevitably a month, 6 months or 1 year later, I look back over the hills and valleys of the relationship and cry out an "I told you so". When or where or from whom did I learn to just kinda go with the flow of my life. How easily I used to give up or give in because he said and did all of the right things or so I thought. 

2. "...choose a man who compels my strength, who makes enormous demands on me, who does not doubt my courage or my toughness, who does not believe me naive or innocent"; Wow! I have not crossed paths with too many women who are looking for this nor many men equipped to handle the job. When I first read this statement, I flinched at the idea of a man making enormous demands on me. What exactly does that mean? What would I be expected to do and become? I was really feeling like I can not in good faith mixed with the residue of past disappointments, consciously choose a man who makes enormous demands. But, then I read the quote again. This time, I saw beauty. The power I hold as a woman to choose a man who sees me. I mean really sees my strength, my courage and my toughness. A man who appreciates my life experiences and my opinions. How absolutely liberating...the thought of honoring my intuition by only giving my time and attention to a man who actually understands what it means to compel my strength. 

My strength, is an interesting little statement. So before I can celebrate the thought of choosing wisely, I must become fully aware and fully embrace this strength, courage and toughness. I must become very familiar with the core of me. Not too long ago, I truly believed that my strength came from the ability to maintain control. No way would I ever be in a position where I would allow someone, especially a man, to witness my vulnerability. No wonder these relationships were doomed to fail. I take responsibility in that I did not always allow the men in my past the opportunity to make an enormous demand on me. I approached these relationships with my guard intact like Roman battle gear. Swimming knee deep in equal amounts of self-pity and desperation, I became fearful of getting used or left or disappointed or rejected or disrespected. And I would remain in these varying degrees of partnerships until one or both of us left or disappointed or rejected or disrespected the other. And after several rounds of this dance, I grew weary. Maintaining control is a full time job!


Tired yet determined enough to seek answers, I began asking questions, seeking knowledge and desiring truth. In all of my asking, seeking, knocking, I happened upon a blog which in no uncertain terms, changed the course of my direction. I began studying the Art of Being Feminine. I am woman enough to admit that I had this whole male/female thing figured wrong! Instead of celebrating our differences and understanding that my power, my strength is rooted in my femininity, I became hell bent on doing it my way.

Please don't misunderstand, I am all for a woman handling her business by becoming self sufficient and self actualized. As matter of fact, growing into a well rounded and respected woman is not only your right but your responsibility. But somewhere along my journey of raising my son, a shift occured in my view of males. You see I USED to be a proud card carrying member of the Let's Empower Women By Emasculating The Men Society. I terminated my membership with that club once I had a revelation that I absolutely detest generalizations of any kind. All men are dogs. All men cheat. All men lie. All men are stupid. If my son is a male then one day he will grow into a man. And if everyone who grows into a man is a dog, cheats and lies then that would mean my son would be a lying' cheatin' dog. And once I rejected that idea, I made a choice from that day forward to evaluate each man individually based on the virtue of his character.

I, with a deeper instinct, choose a man who compels my strength, who makes enormous demands on me, who does not doubt my courage or my toughness, who does not believe me naive or innocent, who has the courage to treat me like a woman.~Anais Nin

Therefore, I with this newly found appreciation, choose a man who compels, calls forth, invites my femininity. A man who makes enormous demands on me to be totally and completely my best self physically, spiritually and emotionally. A man who understands that demand is defined as 1. a requirement or need or 2. the state of being sought after according to the online dictionary. One who understands the power and necessity of pursuit.  A man who has faith in my courage and resilience to stand my ground and get the job done. A man who does not see me as naive or ignorant of what it takes to be a good woman of sound mind and judgement. A man who is wise enough to appreciate ALL OF MY softly powerful, modestly sexy and lovingly supportive WOMANLY SELF.

Lessons vs. Tools

When I first started on my path of enlightenment, I took great pride in wondering "now, what is the lesson in this experience, person, trial?". So through being in hot water, stuck between a rock and a hard place, livin' on a prayer and my back against the wall, I learned a lesson in patience, love, tolerance, faith and hope. Through having a large family, new friendships, graduating from Cal, my travels, being a single mother, and being attracted to different cultures, foods and languages, I learned a lesson in patience, love, tolerance, faith and hope. For years I would see the world through a lens which enabled me to find the silver lining no matter how ominous or glorious the cloud. I guess some would refer to this as being optimistic. A pretty important trait to possess if I might say so myself. My motto..there are no coincidences. Oh yeah, and we must not forget the role of my favorite word/lesson...Serendipity (an aptitude for making desirable discoveries by accident).

Lesson, something learned by study or experience as defined by the Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary. This was actually easy for me..the whole looking for the lesson in every situation. In a strange way, I became almost robotic with it. Using my optimism like some iPhone App. Believe me, I am not complaining about this. I will always see that proverbial glass as half full. But, on February 20, 2010, my world was turned topsy-turvy. My thought process was challenged. I was asked to stretch, rethink, go back to the drawing board, rewrite the script and change the lens. You know like the picture of the bunny and duck which sort of shift as you tilt your head. Same image, different perspective. I remember the date because I was sitting on the left hand side of the bed in one of the guest bedrooms at my sister girlfriend's house on a cul de sac in Northern California. Sister girlfriend was sitting at the end of the bed near my feet and my Road Dawg for life was sitting to my right. The room is filled with feminine energy and the bonds of sisterhood formed from shared experiences, memories and time.


Here, with these beautiful souls, I could be vulnerable, raw and real. You see, they cried with me during those moments when I was stuck between a rock and a hard place and they accompanied me back to Cal for the first time after 17 years just so I can buy a sweatshirt that says "Berkeley Alumni". As we were recapping our wonderful weekend, sister girlfriend says something to me which could be interpreted as "Jodi, you may just have to kiss a few more frogs". OMG, for really real? That's what my inner voice said as I rolled my eyes. I try to quickly reel in all that emotion so I cover it up by saying (this is not verbatim mind you more like a grossly negligent paraphrase) "Okay, so what could possibly be my lesson in kissing more frogs"? As I say this, I was sitting on the left hand side of this bed literally racking my brain trying to figure out what grand qualities I would acquire through these experiences. So I say that, to my little self-help squad..."what is the lesson in that"? That's when sister girlfriend lays a bombshell on me!

"Jodi, the frogs aren't lessons honey they are tools"! The record scratches. Pump the brakes. Back it on up. Or as Arnold would say "What 'chu talkin' 'bout Willis?". She advises me to change my perspective. In order to see them as tools, I have to change my position. Now let me clarify for you. I understood immediately because I know the heart of sister girl. She did not mean for me to use people but rather to absolutely have fun with my femininty. She was referring to the meaning of tool which closely resembles the word "implement" (noun not verb). Here is a quick lesson..a tool is defined as something that helps gain an end. An implement, more specifically, suggests a device designed for a specific job that may require some skill on the users part. Well, this just changes everything. After much thought, I realized that I just became empowered. I am in the driver's seat. So as not to disappoint, the lesson is that I am to use all of my head knowledge (the books and blogs presented in my last post) and apply them. How liberating is this?!

"I mean I didn't even know frogs had lips. How 'bout a nice firm handshake?"
~ Princess Tiana

Ooh La La....Red nail polish!

While "picking my color" at ProfessioNail, a customer approaches me and strikes up a bit of a conversation....

Woman: Oh this is a lovely color (showing me a mauvy pink)!
Me: Yes it is but I am leaning towards red today...It's so glamorous..sort of old Hollywood!
Woman: Well personally, I have always thought Marilyn Monroe to be a bit brassy!

Me: Um, yes she was (with a wink and a smile)as I pick up Vodka and Caviar by OPI! 

It's been awhile since my last post. I have been traveling. This trip was sort of spontaneous. It just kind of came about. I saw a romantic comedy (It's Complicated) which left me in a teary eyed blubbery mess. I needed some guidance. My sister-girlfriend called me and immediately asked "what's going on with you girl?". I share my heart. She tells me of a friend who read something somewhere about the love secrets of French Women. Sister girl couldn't remember all of the particulars but advised me to find it. I did. This trip has changed me and my life will never be the same. 

Serendipity (fortunate accident) occurred. Google is amazing. One search lead to another and nothing short of a revolution has taken place. The following has reshaped my womanhood:

theartofbeingfeminine.blogspot.com/  

www.jamiecatcallan.com , author of French Women Don't Sleep Alone

 

Intriguing, captivating and oh so feminine. Several weeks ago, I considered making my blog private. I shared with a good friend of mine considering the same thing that she had too much to offer the world to make her writings private. Since then, I have learned some things. I respect her choice. I have chosen not to hide. There is a delicate balance between sharing your heart and protecting yourself.

When I started this posting I expected to go in a totally different direction....so I will end with some seemingly random items. Believe me they are not!

There is so much pressure on American women to be happy. To sweep away all traces of loneliness, to forget who you are in your search for a lover or a spouse. In France young girls learn that happiness is elusive; we learn that happiness is less important than passion. ~ Debra Ollivier

Juliette Binoche

"As girls we Americans sit in our fields of daisies and pull off petals with, " He loves me, he loves me not, he loves me, he loves me not".  Meanwhile, French girls sit in their Meadows with their marguerites and pulls off petals with: "He loves a little. A lot. Passionately. Madly. Not at all."" ~Debra Ollivier

Courtesy of Gasoline Alley

"It is here, in the realm of relationship, that women receive the most joy and the profoundest sorrows. The friendships of women inhabit a terrain of great mystery… Although often quoted in weddings, Ruth was speaking to a woman when she said, "Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God my God" (Ruth 1:16). There is a fierce jealousy, a fiery devotion, and a great loyalty between women friends. Our friendships flow in the deep waters of the heart where God dwells and transformation takes place. It is here in this holy place, that a woman can partner with God in impacting another and be impacted by another for lasting good. It is here that she can mother, nurture, encourage, and call forth life." ~Captivating John and Stasi Eldredge

 

Most messages for men ultimately fail. The reason is simple. They ignore what is deep and true to a man’s heart, his real passions, and simply try to shape him up through various forms of pressure.~ John Eldredge

 

Dita Von Teese

Out of the mouth of babes

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IvDaJaU5My4 (Unfortunately Sony has removed Sade's Soldier of Love Video for now as the album is not yet released ). The lyrics are powerful. Do Enjoy the song!



     I am in the process of being deprogrammed. Everything I thought I knew about men, romance and relationships was totally, utterly and completely wrong...

When my son was about 7 years old, he attempted to "school" me on what men want. Seriously though. Being a 31 year old divorced single mom, I quickly discounted the well-intentioned advice he so eagerly shared. What could he possibly know?

So the story goes like this-I was excitedly packing outfits to wear on my premier cruise. I pulled a few items from my closet and prepared to do a one woman fashion show. My son was in the bath tub playing with his Power Rangers. First outfit, I stroll into the bathroom to check my image in the mirror. My son glances up quickly and then continues to play with his toys. Turn to the left and to the right. Try on three different pairs of shoes. Okay, this will do. Outfit number two, mirror check complete, my son raised one eyebrow a la The Rock (Dwayne Johnson) fashion. What was all of that? Oh well, it's late and I have to get packed. By my fifth appearance on the cat walk, he says very sternly "MOM"!

"Not now honey, mommy is very busy. Time to get out of that tub already".  It got really quiet in that room. I turned to look into my son's big brown eyes and my heart softened just a bit. "What is it honey?" He softly says, "Mom, I just don't want to say it because it might hurt your feelings." So I reassure my boy that he can discuss anything with me. My baby, my seven (7) year old male child then says "Momma, what I'm trying to tell you is that you DON'T know how to dress to get a man"!

It took a few moments for my mind to wrap around this whole scene. I thought my ears had surely deceived me. So, I asked my boy to repeat himself. And sure enough, that 7 year old broke it down. And this is what he said...

• Men care about what you wear. They like women to look pretty and be like a girl.
• You should wear your hair down more often
• Don't wear too much make up
• Pick better shoes to wear

I can honestly say that I started laughing out loud from my gut. At this period in my life, I was so far removed from being worried about what men want. I was on the fast track to independence. I was just starting a new love affair with traveling. I lived in my own space. Paid bills when I wanted and could come and go as I pleased. This was my world. I packed what I wanted.
As to not to offend my son, I politely thanked him for his advice while mentally moving that list to the recycle bin icon in my mind.

A month later, we were visiting my dad in Philadelphia. We were invited to a catered brunch at the Omega House (African-American Fraternity). As we walked in, I could not help but notice the number of rather attractive men at this function. My son gets his plate, sits down at the table and then it happens. I wanted to crawl under the table however, decided that would probably bring more attention to myself. In between bites he yells "Mom, maybe you can find a husband in this room. There sure are a lot of guys in suits here"! OMG...for really real! I just put my head down shaking it slowly from side to side in disbelief. From the outburst of laughter at our table, I assumed everyone heard. But, he just could not stop there..could he? Funny what a responsive audience will do for the ego. He added..

"I am going to start a lemonade stand and with  the money I make, I am going to buy my Mom new shoes so she can get a man"! Mortified is not strong enough word to describe what I felt at that moment.

Fast foward 7 years and I can finally acknowledge that my son was on to something. I have spent the last ten years traveling, hanging with my girls, dating, starting and stopping relationships and raising my son. I grew fiercely independent subconsciously promising myself that I will never be vulnerable enough to be hurt again in love. I built walls of protection around my heart. Not fully understanding that those same walls blocked the good as well.

Yes, much of my independence developed out of necessity, however it did not start that way. I allowed seeds of negativity towards men to germinate. On the outside, I was pleasant enough practicing the whole treat others as you want to be treated. But, inside I was a mess. And as I attempted to grow relationships it was as if an invisible wall prevented me from doing so.

I am fully aware now, desiring liberation from the ties that bind. I confessed to a confidante recently that I have been divorced for nearly ten years and just realized that it was truly by my own choice that I remained single.

I have become a student again. When you are ready to learn the lessons, the teachers really do appear. I am listening, expanding, purging, welcoming and trusting. I am becoming that woman who cares.

Vulnerability...capable of being physically or emotionally wounded

Normally, my need to blog will come from some inspired word or deed. Today, feels a bit different. I am not writing from some place where the lesson has been learned and neatly compressed into a colorful display of paragraphs. I am in the passenger seat tonight so let's see where this goes.

I have resumed my workout this month. I am so focused on becoming whole that I so don't care who sees me in my bathing suit as I move from the locker room to the pool. I pay no mind to the other swimmers in the lanes next to me or the group of men chatting loudly in the spa. My determination to create a healthy self overrides my fear of exposure and my need to hide my unfit self. My vision of what I want supercedes my need to be in control of other's opinions, perceptions and judgements.

Yes, I want it that bad!

Vulnerability is an interesting word. A noun. Just thinking about it gives me a little flutter in the pit of my stomach. Somewhere along my life's time line, I grabbed hold of the reins, white knuckled it and threw caution to the wind. Determining (I assume) that life is much better relying on myself. I am in control in the driver's seat. Miss Independent! So yea, I'm the driver, the trip planner, the navigator, the cost estimator, gas purchaser, window washer, tire pressure checker and dialer to AAA (or my brother) when I get a flat. As the driver I am in control..but, of what??

There is a strength in vulnerability. "You know what..I am just gonna move from the driver seat to the passenger seat now" I say to my friend Veronica last week. SHOCKING!!!! Scary, um no more like TERRIFYING!!! But, I have reached a point where my need to control is no longer a need. My desire to release the steering wheel, slide over to the passenger side like those girls in the old movies and simply enjoy the ride cancels my need to run things. Being vulnerable is not a bad thing. Yes, I am capable of being wounded but, I am also opening myself to experiencing an incredible blessing. Imagine the view from the passenger side. No need to check the rear view, put on the blinkers or monitor the gas gauge. Top down, feet on the dash, hair in the wind, hand out the window singing an old 'Retha Franklin song.

Puts a smile on my face....With the all of the possibilities and capabilities of being wounded, I just sit back and enjoy the ride...and the company!