Wednesday, July 28, 2010


When I sing I can bring the entire audience to silence. There may be murmurs when I start, but by the end of the first stanza, everyone is listening. And the standing ovations and cheers at the end are phenomenal. I have that kind of voice. I have the voice that doesn’t mix with the choir. And it never has.

So what I’m trying to understand is why have I spent most of my life trying to mix with the choir? There is one choir called “The People Pleaser” and the other one is called “Please Accept Me.” I can do a stint here and there in each one, but I don’t belong in either of them. Because each time I try and sing with them, I change the essence of my voice just to fit in and stop singing the way I was meant to. Why didn’t I recognize earlier that being the soloist fits my personality much better than being part of the choir?

I have spent most of my life trying to prove what I am. I am a mixture of cultures and have always felt one foot in and one foot out in each of them. I have tried to be more Arab and tried to be more Latin, instead of realizing that this is already part of me. I don’t have to try and I certainly don’t have to prove it to anyone. I have spent these past few months asking questions and realized that these things that I wanted so desperately for people to see are already there. People have called me exotic and classy and exceptional: traits that I never knew I exuded. Looking at myself through others eyes has led me to discover that I am far beyond what I wanted others to see.

I now realize that I don’t have to fit in. In order for me to be happy, I just have to be me. So the problem is, with this voice that I have, how do I make it sing again? How do I assimilate all that I have learned this summer so that I can be the one who gets standing ovations in real life and not just on stage.

There is another voice. The one that is so soft that I tend to ignore it and push it aside. This is the one that I need to start to listen to the most. The one that tells me in my gut where I need to go and what I need to do, the one that brings me a sense of peace when I listen to it. If I can start hearing that voice and make it stronger and blend it with the other voice, I know I could be VERY successful. And this is not the success that comes with money, but the success that comes with fulfillment. That is what I want. I want to come home, at the end of the day to loving arms and know that what I did has made a difference for someone. And I want to do it knowing that I did it with my unique voice.

Friday, July 2, 2010

What a Difference a Day Makes

So on the heels of our declarations, DF and I had our first misunderstanding. I went from being blissfully happy to a raving lunatic within a matter of hours.

I have to admit that I handled the whole thing rather poorly. Oh, I rallied at the end of the day, but during the breakdown of communication; I sucked. I sucked so badly that my friend actually told me that I was forbidden from calling him or going over because he couldn’t see the “crazy” me quite so early in the relationship. I actually don’t think I would have gone quite so overboard if it wasn’t that time of the month. Not that this is a defense, but it definitely plays into my emotional make-up.

Of course things are “fine” now. Again, DF has proven that he is exceptional among men. And while things are “fine, they still don’t feel quite “right.”

You see, DF is going through some big changes and apparently needs some space to process.

If we were further along in the relationship, I’m sure this wouldn’t bother me quite as much as it does. But I miss him. I miss our long talks and our time together and when we did finally speak last night; it felt sort of strained.

I hope that when we are further along, we will have better lines of communication. It is not that he doesn’t communicate well, but that it comes too late sometimes which leaves me sad and confused.

The other fallout from all of this is that now I’m feeling a little more guarded. I’m nervous about seeing him tonight, but it’s not the butterflies-in-my-stomach-because-I-can’t-wait-to-see-him feeling. It’s more like, I’m nervous because I’m not sure how tonight is going to go. I don’t know quite what to expect. I’m a planner and since I don’t know what to expect, I don’t know what to plan; or maybe more aptly, what to plan for.

Logically, I know that everything is going to be fine. I know that things will get back on track. But emotionally I’m a little sad that real life had to throw such a curve ball in the beginning of our relationship and leave me feeling so unsure of what is going on.