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| Dear Internet Friendlies, I had a long update that I tried to post yesterday around 4:30 PM, but Xanga all of a sudden was undergoing maintenance and instead of posting that blog, I ended up losing it all. I have to write it up all over again. I'll try to do that this weekend, but I can't say when I will be able to for sure yet. Sorry, everyone! I will update soon, hopefully! | | |
| The Open Wound of My Heart... "So when are you getting married? You are getting to be about that age now." I ran into one of my uncles on the street Saturday morning, and he greeted me with a smile and this line. In response, I thought about mentioning the fact that he himself has never been married in his life, although he is advanced in age and is currently retired. Wisely, I decided to say nothing about that fact (last time I did, we got into an argument). Instead I gave him one of the several standard and shallow answers I tell folk who ask me that question but who don't really want to hear the extended answer behind it: "Oh, you know the black men of nowadays. They want someone who is light-skinned. I'm just too dark for most of them to consider." That is part of the truth, but not all of it. The rest of the truth is more complicated than that. When I think of the word 'love,' I can't help thinking of the word 'lies.' When we are talking about the love that humans give, it definitely seems like most of the time we say we love someone because we expect to get something out of them. I've seen that and I've experienced that for myself. I try to avoid being so selfish myself, however being human and thus fundamentally fallen, I fall into that trap more times myself than I would care to admit. I call myself Ugly Duckling because I almost always feel like I don't fit in anywhere I go... which is outside of church or my family. I guess much of the root of that is how badly and how frequently I was bullied in elementary school. I was backstabbed by friends in high school and even today feel most of my current friends probably hang out with me because they pity me rather than that they genuinely would like to be around me. So in response I try not to burden them too much with my presence in their lives. Most likely it is true that my heart is simply too wounded to ever be able to open up to anyone completely. The most I can manage is to crack it open from time to time. "Nobody loves you. Why, your own mother dosen't love you. Nobody is going to ever love you either." Somebody who I loved very much told me this when I was very young. I think I was about eight or nine years old at the time. With my intellect, I know it is a lie. However, there are times when that voice echoes in my memory over and over and refuses to be silenced. In my heart, those words are buried but remain emotionally true to the inner child who still believes them. I am so thankful that even though I always feel out of place with other people, that I have never doubted God's love. I question the love of other people, but I have always known that God loves me. God's love never fails. And I am so thankful that it is always there, even for people like me who may be always seen as an outsider, the weird one, the one who is different from everyone else. Agape love, that is what it is. Do you know it? I hope you do. Beloved, let us love one another: for love is of God; and every one that loveth is born of God, and knoweth God. 1 John 4:7 More to come... TO BE CONTINUED... P.S. My 90 year old Great Aunt Sis passed away in the wee hours of this morning. Please pray for her and her family and friends during this time of our sorrow. Thank you. | | |
| Dear Xanga Internet Friendlies, Ugly Duckling is back! Sorry I was gone for some time. I was busy getting my heart broken. That's all over now. It was good for me to have that experience. I can counsel people who are struggling with issues regarding love and marriage with a lot more compassion and understanding than I could previously. Once again, I have prayed that I wish to renounce marriage and all that romantic stuff for the Kingdom of Heaven. The goals that I have in prayer set up for my life will be very difficult to accomplish as a married woman because married folk have so many obligations and responsibilities within their family. I am going to start a new series on my blog. This will be titled "The Many Faces of Love." Many of my friends and acquaintances are struggling with issues regarding love and relationships at this time, so I would like to examine this matter as a Christian for the betterment of the Internet community. I have to admit, my perspective is more a scholarly one. I don't have any experience with romantic relationships. I am naturally a loner and even close friendships can be difficult for me to maintain. With the painful memories of others backstabbing me, it is hard to ever reach a level of trust where I can feel comfortable truly letting down my guard around others. I don't think I am the only one like that out there either. AsOne of the pastors who is my mentor told me recently, "I believe we are a nation of emotionally retarded people, pretending that nothing is wrong." As I am 31 years now, many friends in the younger set (the up-and-coming generation currently in their 20's) are asking me for advice. Although I don't have first-hand experience, I have seen many other people succeed and fail in issues of love- even within my own family, as my mother is the youngest of 14 kids. Of course, the first story I tell will be have to be mine. The Apostle Paul, even with all of his vast scholarly knowledge, always spoke first about his own journey to faith. So that is what I would like to do. In closing, I would like to post an article I (am trying to complete) for a young internet-friend lady giving her advice on this matter. Still haven't finished it yet... arrgh I am such a perfectionist. So once again I'm planning to update soon. I mean it this time! Take care everyone~! | | |
| not born ugly she became it in the 1st grade outcast by her own people black people, beautiful people what a shame she lives in the ugli house puke brownish blood reddish ugly duckling that's me
(bullied in the 1st grade at yeah, an all-black school...awful, awful year of my life... ever since then I felt aloof from my own people, I felt like I was never good enough to be with certain Black folk. Internal problem, yes, emotional one, yes. I just knew I didn't fit in – being a nerd who liked to study with funky hair- and I accepted my outcast status. Kicked and punched, on the ground. Still here I am. Standing up now. But on the outside, looking in. Again, again.) " A heart wounded often enough, turns to stone." So said an infamous woman on TV recently, who I'm not gonna name here. I find myself incapable of trusting people again. Need to stop that. Yes, some good people out there. Somewhere. On Memorial Day we went to my grandmother's grave. My momma cried. My aunts cried. I didn't cry. I been sad since she passed away. Yeah. Still, she seems so close to me. I cried for her when she went away. But I don't cry now. Because I feel like she right here for me all the time. I remember all the wise things she told me. They precious in my chest. It's harder to say goodbye to friends. They are still living, yet feel so far away when they are on the other side of the continent, and soon I will be gone abroad and we will be on two completely different continents, separated by an ocean. As you get older, you notice there are fewer people who really can understand you. It is such a treasure to have someone else you have shared many good memories with, some sad perhaps as well, and know that they will always have your back. And when you have a scarred back from people who have lied to you and betrayed you in the past, besides your heart that is also weeping blood all the time, it is so precious to feel that some people do care.
I do deeply believe that everyone has someone who cares about them, besides of course God. God always loves and he don't care if I ugly or what. My family does try to care for me, but sometimes I feel like I am in icy water and I can't hear them very well. I really like my cat. He is insane, whenever he sees me he throws himself down on the ground like he has seen a queen. He makes me laugh. He likes me a lot. I like to pet him. I want to rub him again soon. But I don't like love bites. | | |
| Sorry I haven't updated in a while, ladies and gentlemen. I am still dedicated to this blog, just it's hard for me to think of something to post here which is not overwhelmingly depressing based on my feelings at the moment. I think I should have something soon though. Hopefully by the end of this week. So thank you everybody who has sent me an encouraging message so far. I'm still here. Planning to do missionary work. Just a lot of setbacks and delays everywhere. Take care, Ugly Duckling. | | |
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