My Apology to The Other Woman

letter

I owe you an apology.

Although we’ve never met, I feel like we know each other. Probably as much as anyone can know through the superficial scrubbing of one’s social media profile. I made judgments about you based on your name, pictures & posts, the same way I’m sure you did about me. I clung to assumptions of who I imagined you to be. I side-eyed your pics and trolled your comments. And I questioned some of your hair pieces, as well. And I know that may sound like shade, but it’s not.

I said that to illustrate how my insecurity manifested as an attack on another woman. A woman, who is probably more like me than I’d care to admit. A woman who if I met under different circumstances, I’d probably enjoy having a few drinks & sharing a laugh with.

If you’re anything like me, then you probably enjoy red wine & live music. You’d rather stay in than to go out, but you also love getting dressed up. You’re educated, independent & I’d imagine involved in your church or community, in some way. You see, I’ll bet we have more in common than just his penis (& frankly my dear, I’d like the record to reflect that we no longer share that).

Men are usually attracted to the same type of woman. I didn’t understand that when I first saw you. Initially, I sized you up, wondering how someone could compare apples & oranges. Again, my Sister, this is not an attempt to throw shade, but rather a simple observation of the differences that you & I have.

I apologize for being short on the phone with you that day. And while I’m still going to advise that you never…ever call another woman about your man, I could have and I should have handled it differently. I’m sorry.

In that moment, all I could think about was how you had the audacity to call my phone, private – no less, address me by name and ask me anything, when I didn’t even know that you existed. And before you fix your mind to think that I’m letting him off the hook, I’ve got some choice words for him as well. Thank you. Next.

They say everything in hindsight is 20/20. Upon reflection, I realized that instead of checking you on the phone that day, I should have checked myself. Before I was the woman on the receiving end of that call, I was once the one who made it, so I can empathize with you. What I should have done was what I wish the other woman did to me: assure me that there was nothing going on. Because at the present time, there isn’t. Yes, we have a past & we’ve remained friends. There were even times that I believed we could’ve tried again, but we didn’t cross that line. I think my reaction was more so confusion due to the fact that I didn’t know that he was as serious with someone as the two of you apparently are. That coupled with the fact that I do still care for him was the reason for my reaction. Again, my Sister, I’m sorry.

You should know that I’ve seen your pictures & I think you’re beautiful. I can see why he was attracted to you. You should also know that I haven’t taken his calls or texts & don’t plan to. And this is not out of anger, but honestly, out of respect & (because frankly my dear, I don’t want anymore more drama). If your relationship goes south, it shouldn’t be on any account of me.

I wish you both the best,

TheRealBlackCarrieBradshaw

On Bended Knee

bended knee

I eased into the conversation like, “Hey, I know it’s been a minute since we’ve talked and I’m sorry I haven’t made time for you, lately. I really don’t wanna cry & be all dramatic about this…but,” I began.

God answered, “It’s okay. I’m here.”

As the words began to get stuck in my throat, I decided that this prayer would be straight from my heart to God’s ears. Ordinarily, when it’s been this long since I’ve prayed, I try to be a little more formal with it. You know, get down on my knees and speak to Him aloud. But since words seemed to escape me, I settled on this method.

Before I knew it, my tear ducts runneth over and the only thing I could muster up to say to Him was, “I’m sorry.”

I continued in silence, speaking through only my tears, “I feel like I’ve failed You. I’m so ashamed. It’s not even me this time saying that I want You, God, but I need You. In every area of my life. I want to surrender everything to You.” The tears that were once silent erupted into a desperate weep.

praying woman

God said, “Is that what you really want?” Yes, I nodded, then no. “I do, God… but I don’t know if I can,” I bargained, as if He weren’t the Sovereign One who knows all. “God, I do, You know I do, but I honestly don’t know if I’m ready,” I struggled to negotiate. He replied, “Well, take your time. I won’t beg you and I won’t make you choose, but I’ll be here when you decide.” Almost as if He were saying, “I don’t want you if you’re not ready because I have plans for you that will require your full, undivided attention.”

Lord only knows how tired I am of going back & forth, straddling the fence. I’d heard this notion before, of God wanting us to choose Him, but I’d never understood the weight of that idea until this precious moment.

What was I “afraid” of anyway? What was so great in my life right now that I wasn’t willing to give up for something better? The reality is there isn’t anything in my life so wonderful that it couldn’t be improved. I’m not exactly thriving in any particular area of my life. At best, I’m comfortable. I couldn’t name one thing that I was truly afraid to let go of. I don’t go out, as it is. I don’t like the taste of alcohol. And I’d much rather save myself, my body, for someone who really deserves that sacred part of me. I mean, by no means am I a saint or the virgin Mary, but what I mean is, sex is a highly intense and intimate act that I truly believe should be reserved for someone who values you, rather the few, pardon the phrase here, “nothin ass niggas” that I’ve regrettably & irresponsibly given it to. Ugh.

Before I could get into a lengthy monologue about all of my transgressions, the Tamela Mann tune that was playing when I first started had stopped. I sat there in silence. A few short moments later, I felt a physical peace come over me as a smile donned my face. I nodded. Yep. Then I nodded, once again just to confirm.

 

-TheRealBlackCarrieBradshaw ™

redeemedgirlministries-com

The Right Thing. The Write Thing.

design desk display eyewear
Photo by energepic.com on Pexels.com

I have no idea why but I’m feeling so anxious right now.

Like, I can’t get still. I can’t get my mind still. I’m physically uncomfortable sitting in this chair, trying to adjust my position, shifting my weight, changing the setting on this heater beside me. My focus is out of focus and the only thing that feels right is to write. Continue reading “The Right Thing. The Write Thing.”

Daily Affirmation

I’ve always believed in the power of words. I’m a writer, after all, it kinda goes with the gig. My life is filled with hand-written inspirations of yellow sticky notes in my home, in my car, in my office. In my purse.

For no apparent reason yesterday, everything was going well when suddenly, I felt uninspired and overwhelmed. I wallowed in it for a moment before quickly deciding to change my own mind.

I woke up this morning, unsettled. For whatever reason, he was on my mind. My thoughts almost held me hostage again until I said this aloud, “If it brings you happiness, then it brings me peace.” I like the idea that whatever is bringing joy into someone else’s life brings me a sense of peace, despite the fact that it may hurt or inconvenience me. I’m choosing to put my feelings aside for someone else’s happiness, creating a peace within that. To some people, that may sound extreme. It may seem like I’m choosing them over me. But I find profound strength is choosing to be at peace regardless of someone else’s choices even if it hurt.

-TheRealBlackCarrieBradshaw