Diary of A Mad, Interesting Woman

Welcome to the random (and sometimes ratchet) ramblings in my head about life, love and pop culture.

Aints and Saints

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Photo Credit: Alana Dae Photography

I’m going to say something that will be wildly unpopular with “Aints” (otherwise known as Saints that are Christian in title only) and likely give pause to Saints (or true Christians). It’s my opinion. Like it or not, it’s how I feel.

It bothers me when “Christians” use biblical principle to depress and condemn. It further bothers me when The Word of God is used as a weapon. Unfortunately, this behavior runs rampant in the black church (although clearly present across the board). It’s crazy that Black people are so critical and harsh given the freedoms and respect we continue to lobby for. Not too long ago, it was unlawful to marry us if you were of a different race and it was also considered vile to use the same water fountain or eat from the same table. Yet after all of these years, we’ll use God to hurl the nastiest condemnation and draw the harshest lines between “us” (saints) and “them” (sinners). That, my friends, is irony.

The God I know and serve is love. His guiding principles are love, grace, mercy, kindness, forgiveness and redemption. You can live a life of reckless abandon and debauchery. If with your last breath you repent and invite Him into your heart, He will take you in and wash it clean. No questions asked. Just like that. It’s all He requires. Just one moment, of all the moments, He gives you in a lifetime. That’s how much He loves us. That’s how much He’s rooting for us to win.

I was recently ordained as a minister for the sole purpose of presiding over the wedding ceremony of my best friend. As I researched scripture in preparation for the ceremony, the Holy Spirit lead me to search how many times the word “love” appears in His Word. It is actually one of the most cited words in the Bible appearing on average 478 times (depending on the version). The only words that appear more are His name (God, The Father, Jesus) and “heart”. Why is this important? What does that tell me? That even though He gives the responsibility of following and adhering to the rule of his Word, He moves, decides, responds and even rebukes in … love. Our greatest responsibility is to exalt / honor Him and to LOVE.

Now, why has all of this bubbled up for me? Where am I going with all of this? Recently I watched the words shared by Kim Burrell condemning homosexuality and I have witnessed some of the fall out. And while I believe her to be an extremely gifted musical artist, and no doubt a woman of God and believer, she was dead wrong to go “there”. Why hypocritically condemn behavior or a lifestyle that you clearly turn a blind eye to when it plays a “mean keyboard” or directs your choir or stands proudly in your pulpit setting the tone for worship? Why judge behavior rooted in a struggle that you will NEVER understand? Why be so incredibly insensitive and disrespectful? I’m disappointed in her … as a fan and Christian woman. In fact, I’d be happy if the church took it’s hands off homosexuality altogether. I can’t imagine the shame a gay person must feel when they come to church looking to receive God’s peace and be embraced by His love and saving grace, only to be greeted by harsh conviction, biased condemnation and hate. That’s not God. That’s man’s interpretation of God. And it’s wrong.

Let me be clear: Hate speech is still hate speech even when it’s masked by biblical principle. Just because you use the Word to justify your hatred doesn’t mean you aren’t perpetuating a very real, disgusting and dangerous bias. And furthermore, you should check the spirit that’s guiding you to do so. I can assure you it’s not of God.

Rule of thumb: If an action is challenging to perform consistently (i.e. unconditional love, inclusion, acceptance), and you feel resistant to it, there’s a pretty good chance God is in there somewhere. Imagine all of the things He witnesses in every moment of every day and He still choses to love us. Can you imagine? Every rape, every murder, every lie and every heartbreak. He sees it all. And still, He only requires one moment to acknowledge Him … just … one. And in that split second He’ll scoop you up and never look back at one foul thing you’ve ever done. No greater love …

Are you capable of doing the same? Are you capable of loving like that? Well, I’d like to challenge you. Start there. Use your energy to love with wild abandon and do so unconditionally. You’ll win more hearts for Christ that way and you’ll certainly have a much healthier spirit and soul.

Love you. Mean it. No matter who you are and how you chose to live your life. When I make it to the gates and He audits my choices, I’ll stand proud that I practiced love above all.

@AskThePRGirl

Relationship Russian Roulette: An NYE Reflection

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I had a funny conversation with my girl the other day in which she shared that she recently came up disappointed playing the holiday version of Relationship Russian Roulette with her husband. What is that, you ask? Don’t mind if I do! It’s that conversation you have with your significant other where you both agree not to exchange gifts during a particular holiday or special occasion (e.g. Valentine’s, Anniversary, Christmas). As the holiday approaches, us females (and lets be clear, its always the female) begin to secretly hope that you got us something. Why? It’s romantic to be surprised and feel that awareness that you want to go over and above to please us. It’s Russian Roulette because if you get us something, we are on cloud 9 and you get sex. No harm done. If you don’t, we are utterly disappointed and slightly irritated, you’re confused because “isn’t this what we agreed”, and a fight ensues thereby killing the vibe, and likely, a bit of your relationship. It’s a horrible set up. I don’t know why we do it. I’ve learned not to do it over the years. My Hubby Honey knows I want a gift on every special occasion. Every special occasion?? Yes. E-V-E-R-Y special occasion. I’ve pushed out two of your big head kids and managed to preserve my sexy. Yes. I want a gift on every special occasion and every third Tuesday if you can manage it. #realtalk

But, I digress.

Her story tickled me because she’s newly married and it’s really sweet to see them find their way together. It also occurred to me how easily it is to unknowingly set your relationship up for failure based on unfair expectations and failure to communicate. I can think of many occasions where I’ve expected Hubs to just KNOW something that I never shared. And then I get mad because I expect him to react or behave in a way that I’ve created in my mind. It’s lunacy at best, and for some reason, I continued to do it. How much easier would it be if I just told him how I felt? If I told him what I wanted? What is this incessant need to keep our men living in an unending Hunger Games-style emotional guessing game??

Am I afraid he’ll think I’m too demanding? Am I afraid he’ll judge my desires as petty or petulant? Do I just not care to do the work? Maybe … a little of all the above? You wanna know the biggest piece of irony? My profession is communications. It’s what I do All. Day. Long. So, why not with him? Why must he guess?

If I’m honest, part of me wants to feel the imagined intimacy and excitement. I want to feel what it feels like to know that he knows me so well that I don’t have to communicate what I consider base-level, rudimentary things. Another part of me wants the thrill and romance of having that storybook guy who planned the romantic weekend or surprise party or got the gift anyway. Part of me wants to test if he’s paying attention. And another part wants to annoy him as retaliation for some random thing he’s done to annoy me. I know, I know. It’s petty, but it’s real! Stop judging! I’m sharing here.

In the end, I realize that more important than feeling the romance, excitement and exhilaration from Russian Roulette is my desire to protect the integrity of my relationship. I love and respect my husband. And, rather than find ways to weaken that integrity, I’d much prefer to find ways to honor our love. Because it’s good love. Really, really good love. It matters to me that we’ve still got “that loving feeling” after all these years. I don’t want to sabotage that because I randomly felt the need to be surprised with a gift.

I share that because while women are on point 98.7 percent of the time :-), we need a gut check every now and again. If you’re playing Russian Roulette with your relationship, even one that has stood the test of time, eventually that bullet will hit the chamber. And you’ve got to ask yourself, “Is that shot worth it.”

Probably not.

Just food for thought. I figured #NYE is as good a time as any for a little self reflection.

Love you. Mean it. And Happy New Year! May your greatest joy in 2016 be the least of your joys in 2017. 

@AskThePRGirl

When Will #BlackLivesMatter

Protesters take to the streets to bring attention to the push for justice in the Trayvon Martin case as they take over Rodeo Drive on July  17, 2013 in Beverly Hills, California. (Photo by Jose Lopez)

Protesters take to the streets to bring attention to the push for justice in the Trayvon Martin case as they take over Rodeo Drive on July 17, 2013 in Beverly Hills, California. (Photo by Jose Lopez)

#truthtime

I live in an affluent, suburban neighborhood. I’m a model citizen. I drive a luxury vehicle and my clothing reflects my executive level professional position. I am a Christian woman. I am Black. Remember that.

Last year, I ran out of gas. I saw the reminder, but was busy trying to be my own version of Super Woman. I thought I had time. I thought I could make it home. My car shut down while I was on a conference call, at a red light, at a busy intersection. I was just across the street (albeit a four lane busy intersection) from the gas station.

I called Mercedes roadside assistance because they give you just enough gas to make it to the gas station. I started to get out of the car and go across the street to try to get gas. A man screamed to “get my f*cking car out of the way”. It spooked me so I got back in and decided to wait it out with my flashers on. Police arrived. I was THRILLED. Help is here!

The police officer (a woman) came to the driver’s side of my car.

She asked, “Ma’am. Why are you stopped in the middle of traffic?” (note: I was in the lane next to the right hand turn lane with ample space for folks to pass me on either side. It was inconvenient to traffic, but not in the middle of traffic.)

I responded, “Thank God you’re here. I ran out of gas! I’m so embarrassed. Can you help me?? The gas station is right there, but I’m a little afraid to leave my car. I’m not sure if I’m supposed to. I don’t know what to do.”

She said (clearly exasperated and annoyed), “Did you call police? You can’t just block traffic like this.”

I said, “No. I called my dealer car service. They are on the way with gas, but with traffic, I figured I could beat them to it. I just need help. Can you help me get over there and get gas?”

She said, “Ma’am. It’s against the law for you to leave your car and you’re breaking the law by blocking traffic. I’m calling a tow truck. If your fancy car service arrives before my tow, I’ll cite you a warning and you can be on your way. If not, I’ll have you towed. You can figure out the rest.”

I stopped talking and looked at her. Here I am. A woman. Clearly shaken. Looking for a solution. Asking for help. It hit me in that moment that she didn’t see any of that. She saw a Black woman. Someone who had the nerve to disrupt her day with something stupid like running out of gas. Someone she could care less about “protecting and serving”.  She saw a nuisance. Something that fed her prejudice. My husband even called to help (because he’s law enforcement and they usually have a code of helping each other in these scenarios). Nothing worked. She wanted to hurt me. Wanted to show me she was in power and I was … nothing.

The tow truck arrived. Just as they were about to link to my car, the Mercedes rep pulls up.

I said, “Thank God! You’re here!”

I look over to the policewoman and the tow truck guys to say, “Ok. There’s no need to tow me. He’s here. He can give me enough gas to make it across the street.”

The policewoman said, “I don’t care that he’s here. I told you if he arrived before my tow, I’d let you off the hook. But he didn’t. STEP! BACK! NOW!”

Yes, she screamed at me. Like … I’d offended her. Like … we’ve known each other in the past and I did something to her that required retaliation.

I became ENRAGED. And I thought to myself … today might be the day that I die.

It’s the first time something like that has ever occurred to me.

I turned to her and said, “I don’t have time for this foolishness. I have to pick up my children. The gas station is RIGHT. ACROSS. THE. STREET. You want to give me a citation. Fine. I’ll see you in court. But these people are NOT towing my car. Sir, please put gas in it.

She places her hand on her gun and starts to shout.

She said, “You’re going to do what I said do! I don’t give a f*ck about your kids! I don’t give a f*ck about you, ignorant b*tch. You think you can talk to me like this?!”

The Mercedes rep stepped in and began to explain to her why she should calm down. The tow guy walked over to me and said, “She wants me to tow you. How about you pay me a dollar and I’ll tow you across the street to the gas station. Sound fair?” His associate handed me his dirty handkerchief. It hadn’t even registered to me that I was crying.

I began to sob. I’d never felt so stripped of my dignity. Ever. In life. I’d never felt so worthless. So helpless.

She hears the tow guys and shouts, “FINE. Here’s your f*cking license. Do whatever you want.”

She throws my license into oncoming traffic, hops into her car and speeds away.

Thankfully, the men there (both the tow guys and the Mercedes rep) helped to retrieve my license. They got me across the street and even offered to be a witness if I wanted to file a complaint. I declined. I just wanted to get home.

Each time a black person is wrongfully shot and killed in this country, I think of this moment. I wasn’t breaking the law. I simply needed help … while black. And it almost got me killed.

I don’t know what the answer is. I don’t even know how to help this madness stop. All I know is …

I foolishly thought that picking the affluent neighborhood, getting the executive level job and wearing the prescribed “I’m not a criminal” uniform would somehow reduce the likelihood of this happening to me. To my children. But it didn’t. Because I’m black. Because we’re black.

We must find a way to stop this. I don’t have the answer, but it first begins with planting the seed. So, I’m planting it. Petitioning that you and I figure out how we can begin to create a culture of accountability. We must vote. We must speak out. We must serve and protect. We must be the change we want to see. Together.

And in the still of the night when hope wanes, we pray. Pray and believe. Know that He is there.

#RIPAltonSterling #ISpeakYourName

Love you. Mean it.

AskThePRGirl

#PrayforOrlando

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As I read the thoughts and comments surrounding the tragedy in Orlando, I’ve come across more than a few folks asking if vigils and prayer are enough. And while I know anger and frustration about this type of senseless violence can move some to feel that anything less than physical action (voting, boycotting / demanding legislation change) is inaction, allow me to give you something to consider.

For those of us who pray actively, have a deep relationship with the Lord and have seen tangible evidence of His hand on our lives, I can tell you that prayer is quite possibly the most powerful weapon we have. Perhaps you don’t know our Savior like I know Him. You don’t believe He split the Red Sea, healed the blind or saved your soul by giving His life. But, I do. There were times when my despair was so deep that I thought … maybe life isn’t worth it and He sat with me. I felt Him touch me. He has healed my body, guarded my mind and protected me every day that I’ve walked this earth. I know that all things are possible just by believing in Him.

So … yes, we should vote to change gun legislation. And yes, we should lean on our politicians until we see change. And yes, we should rally to stop senseless violence from happening. And we should teach our children love and be beacons of love ourselves. But we should also pray. He hears and He sees all. And while I don’t always understand why He allows things to happen, I’ve learned to never question Him. AND, to live my life sharing as much love and light as I possibly can. Be careful that you don’t reduce the most powerful weapon that we’ve all been given.

“Again I say unto you, that if two of you shall agree on earth as touching anything that they shall ask, it shall be done for them of my Father which is in heaven.” Matt 18:19

To the families and victims of Orlando …

There are no words to describe just how heavy my heart is …

Know that I am praying … for God to heal your hearts. To lift the burden of your sorrow. To guard your minds as the enemy tries to steal your peace. To restore all that one man tried to steal. And to exceedingly bless you …

I love you. I stand with you.

AskThePRGirl

#theLEMONADEeffect

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So … it’s been roughly five days since Queen Bey dropped #LEMONADE and completely flipped my world upside down. Am I the only one out here completely caught off guard by the levels to this sh*t?! Like … it’s day five and I’m still catching new messages, hearing new undertones and experiencing new feelings.

And let’s be clear – it’s been on REPEAT since the moment she released it. I’ve not listened to terrestrial radio, not a nan CD or iPod (yes “nan” … it’s in the urban dictionary) or satellite radio. I’ve been ALL BEYONCE, ALL DAY since Saturday, 4/23 at 10pm. And … I’m amazed. Like for real. Eff if you think Jay cheated or if she’s talking about her Mom and Dad’s story or if you think it’s marketing bullsh*t to sell records. It’s brilliant. It’s deep on the struggle. The struggle of being a woman. A woman in love. A black woman. A proud woman. Even if you think it’s bullsh*t, isn’t it crazy how it has reached deep into the belly of damn near every woman out there (including those who aren’t black) and stirred up this sense of HELL YEAH, I’M HERE?!  And YES, I might be a little crazy. And YES, I might be a little wild. And YES, I love hard. And YES, I deserve you to recognize me. See me. Hear me. Love me. Own me. Claim me. And IF you refuse to do those things, to recognize those things and be cool with them, know that I am strong enough to survive you. Strong enough to thrive beyond you. And let’s be clear, that’s not just in the context of relationships. She’s talking about life. How women are perceived at work, at home and in society. How blacks are perceived in society. And how the solution to all of this struggle, all of this strife is to see one another. Acknowledge one another. Love one another. Embrace one another and be open to the complication it brings. There is redemption to be found there. There is healing there. There is a fresh anointing there.

Levels man …

Bey showed us levels.

If you can’t see that, I’m sad for you. If you can’t hear her, I’m sad for you. Whether you’re a fan or not, you’ve got to give nod to the deep saturation of profound thought behind the lyrics. The social themes. It’s crazy!!

I’ve actually cried several times through the album. Thankful for the place and space I operate within my life, but also grieving a place and space I didn’t even realize needed to be grieved. Grieving the dry lands and constant mirages I face as a black woman in Corporate America. Grieving the loss of past love.  And then simultaneously crying joyous tears for the love and overwhelming happiness I feel daily. The redemption God has blessed me to experience. The “exceeding abundance” He’s given me in life. My family. My children. My beautiful husband. My thriving career. My girls. My guys. Not to be cliché but, “I can see clearly now, the rain is gone.” And I honestly feel like #LEMONADE bubbled it all to the surface and gave me … release. A deep sigh. A blessed recognition. I feel … seen. Heard. Not in the way I feel it with God (not trying to say that), but like someone collected every woman’s inner thoughts and emotions, and gloriously exposed our heart. Maybe that’s it. It’s a crazy take on a new age love note. One to us. One to this country. One to our loves (past, current and future). I dunno … I’m still processing.

Levels …

Welcome to the world of a woman. A black woman. And while the struggle is real, the journey is beautiful. Complicated. Necessary. And this my friends, is the #theLEMONADEeffect.

#selah

Love you. Mean it.

AskThePRGirl

us

Today, a good friend asked via Facebook, “Why is marriage hard?” She wasn’t asking to be funny. She really wants to know. She’s single, beautiful, worldly and beginning to consider the idea of a covenant. Honestly, more single people should consider marriage this way and seek to understand its nuances. Well, I don’t think there […]

just a kid

I’ve worked really hard in my career to reach a certain title. I’ve literally been blinded by nothing but TITLE for the last three to four years. And now that I have it, I have no idea what to do next. I’m not even sure I’m happy or fulfilled with it. Standing in these shoes […]

I Applaud Chris Rock (and You Should Too)

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Let’s just put the sh*t out there so that I can say my piece and be done with it.

I think Chris Rock did a phenomenal job hosting this year’s Oscars. It was racially charged, awkward and poignant. It was direct and uncomfortable. It sparked every single solitary feeling you need to have about racial injustice, discrimination and lack of diversity in this country. And for those of you who thought, “It was a little too much” or “he should have quit after the monologue” or “I don’t get the Stacy Dash thing”, please find the nearest chair, church pew and / or bench and have several seats.

You know what’s too much? Oh, I don’t know, selectively removing a WHOLE RACE OF PEOPLE from consideration for great work. Killing unarmed black men and women unjustly. Systemic corporate racism that promotes the less talented and requires literal rock science from minorities to be considered for a job they could probably do with their eyes shut (considering we’ve been working twice as hard for YEARS to achieve the same corporate visibility). Sitting through a monologue in which you have to uncomfortably feel the result of your complicity isn’t too much. I dare say it’s the least you should receive for turning a blind eye and saying its “no big deal”. You do realize that racism and discrimination are not always blatant offenses, right? You DO get that complicity still holds offense?? Please tell me I’m not saying this to you for the first time?? And while you might want to argue, just look at the TONS of people that are willing to shout, chant and support Donald Trump as the Republican nominee for PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. Are. You. Serious?! So you can’t sit through a monologue in which Chris Rock definitively points at the freaking dancing, neon-colored elephant in the room, but when Donald Trump talks about building walls, minimizing women and “taking back our country”, it’s just politics?? Am I missing something??

Oh. I see. So because you’re not related to Sandra Bland and Tamir Rice and Trayvon Martin and the Eric Garners of the world, you’ll sit comfortably on your sofa and watch black people die. And you’ll say, “That’s a shame.” But you won’t talk about it. You’ll watch us work hard to show our talents and when given a chance to acknowledge the work, you turn a blind eye. It’s semantics, right? Perhaps ALL of the films brown folks worked in / worked on just weren’t as good, right? Right? And when asked, you’ll simply shake your head and say, “the world needs to change”, but won’t lift a hand to create that change. You wouldn’t dare open your mouth to facilitate the conversation that will shift us towards that change.

Get this straight. If you are not a part of the solution, you are part of the problem. Instead of finding reasons to tear apart Chris Rock’s performance last night, applaud him. Champion him. Put him on your shoulders and parade him triumphantly through the streets for having the balls to go on one of the world’s largest stage and “tell it like it T.I. IS” (as they used to say back in my hood). Don’t run from it. AND, if ANY part of what Chris Rock did or said made you uncomfortable, run towards the solution of it. Dig it out and get to the root of it. Otherwise, you’re complicit … and you might as well metaphorically grab a rope, gasoline and pitchfork because you’re no better than those that did once upon a time.

In the words of Spike Lee, “WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAKE UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUP!”

Change starts with you. And when given the chance, you ought to be as brave as Chris Rock. As least he was able to add in a little comedy for levity.

Love you. Mean it.

AskThePRGirl

Mommy’s Morning Musings

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Happy Monday! This year I’ve decided to make a better effort, no matter HOW busy I am, to post at least once or twice a month. Feel free to hold me to it! 🙂

To start, instead of a long stream of conscious, I thought I’d share my Facebook post which I wrote after spending a GRAND night on the town with Hubs, my brother and his GF. The next morning, I quickly realized why married Moms of two, stay their asses at home and watch young people live “that life”. Yeah … here’s my “morning after” post:

Gooooooooooood Mern-ting to all of yous. You and you and you AND YOU! How long have I been up? Well, thank you for asking! After creepin (and I do mean creepin) into my own house with the Hubs, Brandon and Brittany at 3AM (so that we didn’t wake the kids), Lillian wakes me up promptly at 645AM with a rebel yell that said, “Hey! HEY! I’m up, Lady! I don’t care nothing bout yo punk a** ‪#‎aboutlastnight‬ situation. Come feed me and change me! NOW!” So I did … and let me tell you, I’ve never experienced a brighter or more vivid sleep pain in my life (you know that pain … that feelin when you get up too early and HAVE to concentrate on what you’re doing but it’s HARD AS HELL CAUSE YOU’RE BODY IS SCREAMING, “B*TCH/NINJA – GO. BACK. TO. BED.” Mmmhmm … that’s my current sitch (that’s short for situation … you heard it here first). And my knees hurt. And I slept in my contacts so my eyes hurt too. And I didn’t wash off my makeup so my face … looks like WHY?! And my hair … ‪#‎fixitjesus‬. Between the sweat from the club and the “The Show, The After Party, The Hotel” shenanigans from Mister Haley (and yes, after his performance you MUST spell out Mister … *winks at Bae*), I’m a wreck. Happy Super Bowl Sunday, Fam. Let me get in here and straighten up. Got ninjas coming over to watch the baby smash cake. Sh*t.

Fun was had by all and penance was paid by me. My body is still recovering. You know the sad part?? I REALLY USED TO BE ABOUT THAT LIFE!! I was a HOT girl! Party ’til the sunrise girl. Knew all the late night hot spots girl. The All Star Weekend shut DOWN girl. #AboutLastNight was a REAL thing for me … 10 (maybe 12 years) ago.

Today, I’ve watched Disney’s Frozen more times than I’ve actually had a night out with Hubs. A decent meal is chicken nuggets, fries, fruit and a good glass of wine because my kids have such fine palates as you can tell. A sexy night is when we don’t have to have hushed sex so as to not wake up the children. Although, I will say, my husband and I keep it steamy so hushed sex ain’t so bad. Sleeping in is 7:30am. If the kids sleep until 8am, we wake up SHOCKED, but so refreshed.  “Me time” is going to the bathroom alone (note: I haven’t used the bathroom without my kids interrupting or feeling the need to sit and watch since before Noah was born. That’s FIVE YEARS AGO!!!).  “Me time” is also my morning / afternoon commute to/from work. Honestly, I tend to think about how I can fit in a good night’s rest before I think about ways to have fun and get out of the house.  A friend invited me to a movie screening a few weeks back. When he called to see if I was ready to go, I was already home and in my pajamas. His response, “BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Really?!” My response … ‘Ye shrug. I was beat.

So as you can see, life here lately hasn’t quite set me up to be the out to 3AM type girl; but, I must admit, it sure is fun when it happens. And while I could NOT live that type of life every weekend, I’m thankful that every once and a while, Hubs and I get to remember what it feels like to chase the night.

Until Next Time,

AskThePRGirl

What Do I Do?

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Hey Loves!!

It’s been a while since I’ve blogged anything for a few reasons:

  • I only want to blog when I have something to say and for a while there … nothing relevant / thought-provoking came to mind. I mean … there’s only so many times a girl can talk about the “ratchetness” of reality television
  • Career + Mommyhood + Being the perfect Wife (#shedidthat) + Pregnancy = all-consuming. There’s almost not enough time in the day to bathe let alone come up with something pithy to say to you guys
  • I’ve been working on self which requires silence.  You can’t hear God if you’re constantly talking.

So, while I probably lost some faithful readers, I needed this time to adjust.  And you should always know that I’ll only speak when I truly have a topic that will benefit you, or at the very least, make you laugh. And moving forward, the posts may not be very long.  Just enough to get you thinking.

Here lately I find myself back in the midst of a relationship issue that’s giving me … pause.

Ever felt like something wasn’t quite right in your relationship (friendship, marriage, GF / BF, brother / sister, etc.), but you can’t quite put your finger on it?  Actually you can put your finger on it, but the “issues” are small and appear unworthy of attention … until you add up the issues and the time you’ve been dealing with them up and you realize … “SHIT! We’ve been dealing with this for a while!”

Yeah … welcome to my world. My favorite thing to say to people right now is that I’m “dealing with real world sh*t” in my life (like raising kids, juggling my career) and thus I’m a bit slower to catch on to things. *Ye shrug*

How do you address an issue with a loved one that you know is there, but have no idea whether your loved one is feeling the disconnect?  How do you even broach the subject? To have a formal sit down is too formal. To bring it up randomly during a get together is too … random.  When a relationship means the world to you, how do you address an issue that could potentially cause irrevocable harm if not addressed?  Especially when you’re dealing with someone who would rather chew off their own left arm rather than confront it? (I mean hypothetically … which must be said after that last Scandal episode with Olivia’s Mom. Good Lawd!)

That’s it. I don’t have the answer.  If I did, I’d tell you. I want you to tell me.  Hit me back in comments or tweet me (@AskThePRGirl).  This is important to me.  This time … I need your perspective. I mean, this is no one-sided relationship. You’ve got to pull your weight! 🙂

I look forward to hearing from you. And once I’ve sifted through all of the comments, I’ll be sure to come back to you all with the solution I chose and it’s outcome.

All the best, AskThePRGirl

P.S. I’ve missed you.  We should chat more 🙂

P.P.S. Don’t I look cute pregnant?? #SHEDIDTHAT (photo courtesy of @JennBinsPR)