Self Realization – Let's Build Futures

The first maybe I allowed in my life was at 15. I let an ex use a maybe like a semi-colon. Pausing our relationship but not our love. He was convinced that in that moment in time he couldn’t give me what I needed, wanted, or deserved. Maybe we could be friends. Maybe when the dust settled we could find our way back to each other. Maybe once he was sure he had what he needed in life we could continue our relationship. Maybe this wasn’t the end, it was a semicolon. I held onto maybe for nights after that. Held it close like a security blanket. I needed to not feel completely discarded and alone. It was hope. The last maybe I accepted in my life was exactly the same in every way. He was convinced he couldn’t give what I needed at the time. I couldn’t let go. So we pressed pause. Maybe was like a promise. A future but not a present. I clung to it as the last shread of my emotional heartache gave way. I needed something to anchor me.

Then something CLICKED.
Late one night as I held myself and felt the tightness of grief, heartbreak, and anxiety swell. I finally realized maybe did absolutely nothing for me. It didn’t dig me out of my dark places to tell me about the light.

What their maybes didn’t do was wipe my tears when my heart flooded inside. It didn’t calm me down during 2 am panic attacks. Maybe didn’t speak life into me or make sure I got to talk about my day. Maybe didn’t even choose me. It just put me on pause. Frozen and keep me tucked away for a rainy day. Maybe didn’t see me. Understand me. Fulfill me.
So, I took that semi colon and turned it into a period. I made an unsure thing sure. I gave a finish to an unresolved. I declared “I’m nobody’s fuckin maybe!”
This is a rallying call, a declaration, a battle cry, a period. For men and women who choose not be paused.

You don’t have to accept half love from half people. You don’t have to be a future option for someone’s lineup. You deserve a full person with a full desire to have you and love you FULLY. Someone who shows you extensively and one who chooses you as if you were the only choice. Forget that maybe in the background the keeps you on a dusty shelf. We no longer believe in “what Ifs” anymore. You have a choice. You can choose whether to accept maybes into your life.

I’ve gotten to a place where I’m full. I have room for no more maybes. I only want certainty in my love and confirmation in my relationships. I’ve taken myself off that dusty shelf and closed the glass door. I’ve even set the bridge on fire. I let too many maybes convince me that that’s all there was to love.

What did maybes do for me?

Maybes keep me in a situationships where I tried to convince the guy I was enough.

Maybes were there when another I was dating kept dropping me for his ex.

I let maybes ring in my ear like sweet nothings because I was sure I couldn’t do better. This isn’t bitterness. I’m nobody’s fuckin maybe is freedom. Freedom from the idea that you have to wait for one person to love you right. Freedom from allowing yourself to believe you have to wait. Freedom in seeing who you are and trusting what you deserve. Freedom in knowing that love doesn’t pause but neither do people. I’ve opened up the door of glass case of the shelf that so many maybes have placed me on. I move now. I live and dance. I am not a collectible. I am a living breathing thing who does not wait for love but one who gives it to herself every.single.day. I am a definite. I am no ones one day. Possibly. Collectible. Good girl. And I’m damn sure nobody’s fuckin maybe.

I am EVERYTHING.

To someone. To the right one. To myself.

I choose me. In this moment and every moment. Period.

Builders! DECLARE YOUR WORTH! Tell me what you’re not by using “NOBODY’S F*CKIN —————-!” Comment below and Share!

I was “good,” I was really good.

I didn’t raise my voice too loud or ask too many questions. I didn’t probe or pry even when my curiosity wanted just a taste of the truth. I was always nurturing. Always ready to fix the broken thing. My flat chest would swell with pride whenever I heard someone refer to me as “the good girl.” I knew it would mean that I was revered. It meant that more effort would be put into the pursuit of me. It meant I was special.

What I didn’t know was that it would be a cage, a trap, and a way for others to not see the full spectrum of me as a woman. Years ago I killed the idea of myself as a “Good Girl,”

and it has been the most freeing decision of my womanhood.

You played yourself

I played into the idea. I wasn’t particularly voluptuous or well-dressed, but I could be good. I could people please until everyone fell prey to my kindness. I tried on the label like makeup, thinking it would enhance me in some way. I found that the act of being a good girl helped to place me on a pedestal in the minds of boys whose attention I was desperate for. It also meant that I would have a longer distance to fall once they realized I wasn’t perfect. I allowed myself to be trapped in the ideas that other people had of me. This meant that cursing was not acceptable; modesty in the way I dressed was expected, and I always needed to be gracious even when wronged.

But ooooooohhh Chile, I got real tired of feeling like a couldn’t stretch the length of my personality, thoughts, dreams, and desires. And I realized that CONGRATULATIONS I had played myself all those years that I performed as the “good girl” because I was so much more than that label. I’ve allowed myself to be defined by a phrase that never captured the truth of who I am.

Peeling back the layers of the mask to reveal my truth underneath it has been shocking for many. I say FUCK now. A word that so clearly captures my mood but one that I just allowed myself to write and speak. I wear clothes many people think of as scandalous and I feel powerful in my sensuality because of it. I am not a “good girl.” I am the best contradiction you could ever hope to experience. Mellow and fierce. Shy and sensual. Soft and powerful. Trap yet contemporary. Introverted but assertive.

Most of all…I am a real ass woman, with real ass needs, wants, dreams, and feelings.

I shed the good girl label like a bad wig because there is no box that could hold the magnitude of my existence.

Take a STAB at it

The first stab came with my assertiveness. The second with my opinions. The third with my self-awareness and actualization. No one likes a mouthy “good girl” who challenges things and knows herself well enough to know that “good” and “girl” don’t come close to describing who she is.