» Vessel. Voice. Visionary.

Because, its my time.

Side Piece

I'm sorry; when did being a part of "#sideni**anation" and "#sidebi**hnation" become a thing? As a matter of fact, when did being a side piece to a relationship become something to strive to, to settle in, to be comfortable with? It's nausea ting to watch people, of course of my generation/age glorify the position of being a side piece. Why? Because it's not cool. There's nothing respectable about it. It's not an accomplishment and definitely not a honor, yet I see post after post, status after status, picture after picture with comments corroborating the foolishness. What happened to our morale? Our sense of monogamy? Our pride in being someone's only, not main or number 1 of many? 

Maybe you'll say I don't understand. On the contrary I do, I've been in those shoes, both as a side piece and as a main girl. As a main girl, it crushes you. You find out your boyfriend is stepping out on you & building something else with someone. It makes you question "why", "what does she have that I don't" "what do I do that makes you wanna do that" and ultimately, "why am I not enough". It makes you feel inadequate, makes you question all the qualities you do and don't possess. It embarrasses you and puts you to shame. You constantly flip flop on whether he means enough for you to give him another chance or walk away. You try over and over to forgive but it breaks your heart because you don't know if you want to. As a side piece, the experience is not too different. At first, it's cool, maybe even cute, like "yea your man runs to me & you don't even know" or you feel good cause he tells you "you get me. She doesn't understand me the way you do". He whispers the sweet nothings in your ear & makes promises of leaving her for good to be with you. And then, reality sinks in. Time passes, and then more time, and more time, and you realize you guys were no more closer to being together than the first day. You can't ask questions like, "where are you going" when he steps out or "who's that on the phone" when it's ringing at 1am. You can't be seen with him in public, so while he's flaunting his main girl, you're off to the side, getting into your feelings, knowing you don't have any authority to voice them. You don't meet the family, the friends, the nothing. I get it. I know what it's like to be in both positions and I never want to know again. 

But why would anyone want that to be glorified? Why would anyone want to willingly sign up for that? For a life in the unknown? Having "hoes" isn't it. Being a side piece isn't it. Grow up. Make up your mind. Act like a responsible adult. By signing up to be a side piece, you settle for way less than you're worth. You rob someone of the opportunity to love you and only you with the all of them and treat you how you should be treated, like royalty. By getting a side piece, you string along someone who thinks they're getting the all of you, not allowing them to be free because they deserve better. Either position isn't fair, and it just isn't worth it. Love yourself enough to love yourself and not settle. 

Side pieces are not, will not, and have never been something to attain to. Stop.

Cut the String of Brokenness

Growing up, I had a lot of "friends". It was never an issue to make them because I deemed myself a social butterfly. Talking to people was rather easy for me, and subsequently making friends was too. Being older, the same isn't true. It's not that I've lost my charm for talking to people, it's that I allowed my circumstances to push people away. You don't realize how much things hurt you until you look behind you and recognize the string of brokeness that follows. I had broken relationships with people because of how hurt I was. I pushed those that cared away because I lumped them with those that appeared to but didn't. Now I look around at the lack of friendships I have, and quite frankly, it makes me sad. I want to have friends that I can call and say "get dressed, we're going out" or vice versa. I want to have friends that if my boyfriend goes out or my closest friend/roommate is with her friends or out, I don't have to be lonely, laying in the bed watching tv. I want to have friends that I can be transparent with, have fun, without worrying about whether they're thinking about how "holy" I should be. Going away to college was a great experience for me in that it taught me to be independent and such, but the experience also took me from my home, my friends, and my family. I know I have them, but in Philly, they aren't tangible. I can't go see them or hang out. That's what different about now. My boyfriend and roommate are both "home". Seeing their friends or family is as simple as a drive or train ride. I don't share the same simplicity. My journey takes more than three hours to another state. Maybe that's the saddest thing--when I am most in need of my comfort, it's out of reach. 

BUT, the point of this post is not all about being sad about not having friends- it's about this: cut the string of brokenness. Too often we get so wrapped up in situations and people that hurt us that we go out and sometimes unintentionally, hurt those around us. We don't let people get too close for fear of hurt, or we push away those that care because we don't see why or how they could. We lump everyone together and think the world is out to get us, when in actuality, either a small insignificant number or frankly no one is. Living in hurt hurts. Living in hurt stunts growth. Living in hurt limits the possibility of truly enjoying life and all that it has to offer. Living in hurt continuosly gives control to the source of the hurt. I lived in hurt so long and was so deep into it that I didn't see that I was isolating myself until it was revealed by others and ultimately by myself when it was too late. I realized I had isolated myself when I could scroll down my phonebook, or better yet, look around the room and realize there was not a single person I had an actual substantial friendship with. I realized I had allowed my hurt to consume me to the point where "are you okay?" wasn't even a question anymore--it became the statement of "oh she's just having another one of her days/moments". Living in hurt robs you of the ability to love and I think more importantly be loved. It's okay- you're human. But at the end of the day, you're not the only one who has ever been hurt and you surely won't be the last. The hurt that you're going through isn't unique unto you. Others have experienced debilitating hurts, and yet, they manage to still love and be loved.

Bottom line: Be mature enough to realize that as long as there is life within you, there is life to be lived. Forgive. Forget. Move on. Most importantly, never lose your ability to recognize, receive and reciprocate love.