REWIND: Blocked.

The following is something that I wrote a little over two years ago; it’s just my first time sharing it publicly. So, in reality, it’s old news. Though, as I post this, there are current implications that I will discuss at a later time (and a whole other reality that frames this messy situation). There is a lot of drama associated with this person, and to be honest, it was pretty hilarious to read how caught up I was in a situation that not only ended up being futile, but very slimy, deceptive, snaky…and just wrong. As I share more about this story, it may seem disjointed (the sequence), so you’ll need to work with me. This seemingly innocuous post sets the stage for the fuckery to come.

Words of wisdom from my wiser, younger sister.

So, I think it has ended with a man with whom it should never have begun (awkward sentence, but I digress).

I “met” him online. He was one of the only guys who  had the balls to respond my (intentionally bitchy, sarcastic and off-putting) profile. His message was thoughtful (taking into account the free “dating” site we were on). Instead of a simple “Hi” or “Hey beautiful” (which I explicitly warned in my profile would not garner a response, but again, I digress), he reached out to me with a very clever message. We hit it off and eventually exchanged phone numbers. Before we exchanged numbers, though, he felt compelled to be honest and tell me that he had recently been released after many years in federal prison. It should’ve (perhaps?) been a deal-breaker, but he was attractive & witty. And I wasn’t looking for a relationship. Plus, he served his time. Case closed.

He lives about 40 minutes from me, which isn’t ideal, but I really dug him. Plus, it felt good to wake up to “good morning” texts, etc. — after all, he was the first guy for whom I let my guard down since my last (debacle of a) relationship.

I will save the gritty details of our friendship with benefits for another post (or not). Suffice to say that I think it’s “over”. He was all wrong for me, but for the first time in months, I felt…protected/appreciated/admired. It felt good.

Fast forward.

Our last interaction was harsh, and I said some not so nice things. I swore I’d never talk to him again, but I swallowed my pride and reached out to him. There’s been no response to my calls and texts for going on three days. Now, I’m sad. Or perhaps my pride is wounded.

I (think? I) am sure he’ll reach out to me in due time, but I’m impatient. So, I’m going to “block” his phone number for a while. my pride doesn’t want to know how long he will hold out. Or, if he will for good.

I caught feelings, and I hate it.

The Power of Intention.

“Intention is one of the most powerful forces there is. What you mean when you do a thing will always determine the outcome.” – Brenna Yovanoff, “The Replacement”

“What the eyes don’t see, the heart doesn’t grieve over.”– Some old saying…not sure who said it

While many people disagree with the sentiment behind the idea that what you don’t know won’t hurt you, I kind of buy it.

Life has shown me that there are many things with which my mind would’ve been better served not knowing. I could’ve saved my heart a lot of pain if I would’ve let sleeping dogs lie, so to speak. The mind can really fuck up a heart (and nerves — read: rumination and anxiety fueled panic attacks and sickness). Our minds are powerful…at times, to our hearts’ (and bodies’) detriment.

I am in no way condoning betrayal. I just don’t completely buy some people’s mumbo jumbo about the heart being able to feel every action that the eyes don’t see.

Especially as it relates to infidelity.

This may be my way of justifying (some people’s definition of) morally questionable behavior. That said, I have experienced situations in which I’ve found out about (the means of discovery are irrelevant) a partner’s infidelity. I can say, with certainty, that if the affairs were completely physical (and didn’t **produce a human life, or a disease), I may have been better off not knowing. This isn’t ideal…deception is deception. But, society’s definition of fidelity & commitment (in relationships) is relative.

This may be because I am a firm believer in the power of intention — not the hokey stuff you probably think of when you hear the phrase, but work with me here. Assuming that my hypothetical significant other was put (or put himself) in a situation that lent itself to solely physical gratification (provided it did not produce the things mentioned above), and there was no intention to hurt me or betray our emotional commitment, I’m not sure it would be worth me knowing.

Additionally, I feel that my partner should feel the same way about me and my actions (and intentions).

And being perfectly honest, I think that this is a conversation that should be had by every couple before any action has been taken. I am a firm believer in trust (because regardless of intention, being lied to, or intentionally deceived is a deal breaker for me). I am also a firm believer in choice. Give me the choice of deciding whether or not I’m okay with whatever you’re thinking about doing (that could potentially impact me or our relationship). I would do the same in return. Then…we are both armed with the information necessary to decide whether or not it’s acceptable to us, as individuals. Yay or nay? Stick around or move around? Acceptable or nah?

I speak from experience and from reason. And of course, what I describe is ideal. Lovely in theory.

I am not foolish enough to think that subjective things like feelings can be rationalized. But, commitment can be. We are human.

That said, I think the power of intention cannot be underestimated.

But, it has also been said that the road to hell is paved with good intentions.

Maybe I don’t know shit.

Excuse me as I step off of my soapbox.

“The man who knows something knows that he knows nothing at all.” – Erykah badu, On and On

** Producing a human life, from an “affair“, is a topic worthy of discussion, at a later time.

Door Slam. For Good?

Perusing Pinterest yielded this gem; it’s spot on.

I’m an INFJ (Introverted iNtuitive Feeling Judging — Introverted Intuition with Extroverted Feeling) if you don’t know what this means, look it up. In any case, it’s a rare personality type (based on the Myers-Briggs personality test — its framework based the work of psychologist, Carl Jung), and I was taken aback when someone, who I was only casually acquainted with (at the time), quickly (and randomly) called it out. This person happens to be a mental health and educational professional, so her observations had credence to me.

The conversation quickly shifted to something called the “INFJ Door Slam”. I had never heard of the term, but upon learning about it, **and further research, I completely see this defense mechanism manifesting in my life. As I think about it now, it explains so much about the very extreme (and painstakingly drawn out, yet final, at their resolutions) choices I’ve made (and am making) as it relates to personal relationships (context will be provided when I am not as emotional).

According to the Introvertspring website:

“The decision to resort to a Door-Slam is one of the hardest moments an INFJ will ever face. This is our last resort, our absolute limit. When we do it, we don’t look back. At that point, we are done. This is our ultimate defence mechanism.”

Case in point, be gentle and conscious with the INFJs in your life. Respect our boundaries and our emotions. The boundaries to which I refer are emotional boundaries. If you truly know your INFJ, you know how we tick. You know what sets us off, or more importantly, what we just can’t sit with. Respect that. Our only resort, when we’ve exhausted all other recourse (second chances, trying to rationalize emotionally disrespectful behavior, tolerating spirit vultures, etc.), is to slam the door. For good.

** Trust me, I am not suggesting that the internet — moreover Wikipedia — is reliable research; it just provides context.

Here I Go (Again).

My return to leisurely writing has been a long time coming. It's been over ten years. I initially started blogging back during the days of Diaryland and Livejournal (many of you likely have no idea how significant these now, essentially defunct and archaic, blogging platforms were). Those were the days when Blackplanet was the thing, and Myspace was up and coming. I don't think Facebook existed (or if it did, it wasn't nearly what it is now).

AFROTRAVESTY was actually the first domain I ever bought (I was trying to be like the cool kids -- no longer satisfied with the "free" sites). Oh, backing up a bit...back in those days, "blogging" wasn't really in the popular lexicon; "blogs" were actually called "weblogs", or journals, or diaries (you get the picture). My, how things have changed.

In any case, I was feeling nostalgic, and decided to see if AFROTRAVESTY was still available (I let it expire about 15 years ago). It was, and here I am.