Notice that in the title I used the word can’t… not won’t…. because one literally lacks the power to break free.
Let me paint a picture for you.
Imagine a beautiful, colorful butterfly floating freely in a meadow. It dances across the tops of lilies and violets fulfilling its purpose in life without any care or concern in the world, but one… the search of love. In its course of duty the butterfly crosses the path of a dark, mysterious spider who weaves a silken web of words and deeds to win the butterfly’s heart. Butterfly, naive as it may be, is still cautious of getting too close to the spider… after all flies get trapped with those things. Not beautiful butterflies! Nonetheless, butterfly is intrigued by spider’s enticing and glistening web. What’s more is that spider has eight arms with which to hold our floating friend…. and many eyes to see the need in butterfly’s longing soul.
Spider entices butterfly to lean in for a kiss, and weakened by the words and gentle caresses of our savvy antagonist, butterfly finds itself trapped in spider’s web. For a while, it seems nice to have another close by… But as spider closes the space between them, butterfly finds itself even more stuck in spider’s web. Butterfly enjoys the feeling of security. I mean, who wants to fly freely when you can be so deeply and passionately loved and appreciated? Relishing the feeling of being wanted, butterfly spreads its wings to embrace spider and finds itself completely and overwhelmingly entangled…
Butterfly croons “This must be love.”
Notice in the tale above there are no “he’s” or “she’s”. I realize that most of us will associate butterfly with a female, but I’m just using it to illustrate the well-meaning, but weak character who longs for love and will settle. Guys, if it makes you feel better, you can be a dragonfly.
Spider, well… you get that! Spider is the charmer that reels you, tells you all the things you want to hear, and gets you trapped! What’s more is that a spider will leave you stuck in the web, build a web elsewhere, trap some other well-meaning insects, then come back to feast on your self-esteem when it’s hungry.
So are you a trapped member of the lepidoptera phylum? (Nerd speak… sorry.) This entry is for those entangled and unable to let go of someone who only creates hurt and shame. Am I speaking of romantic love? Possibly… but I feel that entanglements can happen in ANY relationship. At the moment, I can say that I have female friends with which I’ve become far too entangled in their affairs of life. Instead of being a support system, I’ve become the source of life… They suck me dry!
But romantic relationships are, by far, the trickiest. How can you tell whether there’s real love in place versus an unhealthy attachment of souls? Let’s go back to our characters and study their habits.
I doubt that anyone who’s read this can honestly say they’re free from ANY entanglements. Naturally, some are good, but we must relieve ourselves of relationships that leave us empty and unsatisfied. Some of us are entangled in more than one web which truly explains why we have no inner peace or confidence.
I didn’t write all of this just to leave you dazed in your circumstances… but the first step to freedom is acknowledging that you are, indeed, entangled, and not in love. Love gives, not takes away.
So how do we become free? Well… I need more time to think about that. Until then, let’s all investigate those closest to us and figure out who’s got the wrong kinds of strings attached to our wings.
Love you all… and with that, I bid you goodnight.
P.S. Special thanks to my Jiminy Cricket who gave me an idea of the butterfly and spider relationship…
Why? Because it’s too funny not to tell and enough time has passed that I can laugh about it without being too embarrassed. Don’t worry… precautions were taken to protect the feelings of the gentleman who will be utterly shamed and embarrassed in the story I’m about to tell. He’s a nice guy, and I really don’t want him to see this.
So I met this fella online via a very sketchy site introduced to me by a close family member who also had no business on the site. If I told you who the family member was, I’d be dead by morning. (Mama, NO!)
Back to the guy… He was super tall, handsome, and gentle-natured, but dumb as rocks. Normally, I find some sort of intelligence in a person and honor that, but this guy wasn’t working with much at all. To put it simply, he was a muscle head. But after chatting, texting, talking, and inappropriately flirting for months, I decided to meet him anyway.
Anyone who’s ever done online dating will tell you that there is a MAJOR difference between what you see and hear via electronic devices and what you see and hear in person. Well… I could say I was pretty lucky. Mr. Man was just as kind in person as he was on the phone. Unfortunately, he was twice as dense. I remember asking him a few questions and getting blank looks instead of answers. Every few minutes he’d giggle and say “Yeah, girl…” I’d just giggle back.
We ordered our lunch and ate between a few more failed attempts at intelligent conversation. He enjoyed a dish that was covered with tons of melted cheese, onions, and peppers. (Bad date food if you ask me…) I’m sure I ordered some kind of salad pretending to be health-conscious. He paid the bill, and we left… hand in hand.
On our way out of the restaurant, my date stopped to admire our reflection in the glass.
“Don’t we look good together?”
I’m not sure what he saw, but my head reached a little over the top of his belly button and I thought “He’s got to be kidding.” My second thought was that our heights were inversely proportional to our intelligence quotients…. and I just can’t be with a dumb man. (Let me qualify… there are many different ways to be intelligent, all of which are praiseworthy. Everybody has something; but if you have little to nothing, I can’t work with you.) So I could see us going no where fast, yet I remained agreeable and continued to smile. There really was no reason to be ugly…
Our next stop was a movie… something action-oriented, loud, and exciting. The title? I don’t remember. What I do remember, however, was his giant self squirming in the minuscule seat. We tried the cuddling thing… didn’t work. I would lay my head on his shoulder, rest it a few seconds, and then he’d push me up. Not long after, I started hearing tummy gurgles so loud that they made the movie’s surround sound seem a mile away. I wondered why my stomach was so active. Even if I didn’t like him all that much, how embarrassing would that be for me? Then it dawned on me… squirming and gurgling… It wasn’t me! It was him! (You know how it is when you’re sitting close to someone, and you can’t really tell whose stomach it is…) Lucky me…
Right? I mean I am lucky that it’s not MY stomach gurgling. It’s his… Wait a minute. This could turn into something very bad at any moment. Ain’t it funny how luck turns on you?
So the movie ends, and we hop in his super clean car. He heads for the highway. I inquire as to where we’re going next. He says “Just relax, and enjoy the ride.”
He types into his TomTom and heads for 95 north which happened to be seriously backed up. My sensibilities kick in (kinda late, right?) and I insist to know where he’s taking me and why, all of a sudden, he’s acting so strange. I pushed until he answered.
“I need to use the restroom. All that cheese got to me…”
“Are you lactose intolerant?”
“Heh heh… yeah, girl.”
Now I can’t type what I really said to him at that moment… but here’s the censored and listed version.
*Bleep*, are you serious? Why would you order something with all that cheese if you know your body can’t digest it? And if it looked so good and you had to have it, why would you have it on a date? Here’s a McDonald’s you can go there. Why’d you pass the McDonald’s? The Hardee’s? Target’s right around the corner. Where the heck are you going? Don’t you see this traffic!
He wasn’t hearing it. We crept at a mere 25 miles per hour for about 20 minutes passing several exits with blue signs showing places with available RESTROOMS. Dude was stubborn, and I was BEYOND ticked!
All I could do was plan my route of escape just in case noxious gas leaked from my date. Because is this really an IF situation? No… said person has gas, so it’s not about IF he lets it out, but WHEN! The only results from a planned escape would land me stranded outside his car or half-dead inside. I started praying…
A few miles later, he takes an exit off the highway and heads to a hotel. He runs inside and tells me to wait outside. So I’m waiting… and thinking. Thinking… and waiting.
Is this some kind of game? Did he already have a room booked here? He better not ask me to come in if he does. Is he so desperate to get me inside to pull some crap like this? And since when do you have to use a pristine bathroom to do your dirty business? Why am I here? Maybe I can call a taxi back to my car…
Just as I go into another round of the same questions, my text notification sounds…
“So….you wanna get a room while we’re here? ;-)”
You know what? I can’t tell even anymore of this story… let’s just say he and I haven’t seen each other since.
I will say this… Despite the utter embarrassment and shame I felt up to that point, the rest of the date wasn’t a total waste. I just had to redirect his “romantic inquiry” *gags* to a sensible, yet riveting game of UNO at a local park. We did have fun with that.
Moral of the story? Heck if I know… if you’re creative, daring, and punny enough, leave one in the comment box below.
How about this? Don’t lead a brotha on and think ANYTHING will stop him from trying to get the cookies… no matter how sh*tty the situation.
That’s enough foolishness for tonight… I’m looking forward to hearing back from my readers.
For shame, for shame… I’ve found myself in the same crappy situation. Lonely and loveless, I’ve given too much, and there’s nothing to show for it but my tears and seething anger. I can’t really decide whether to be angry with him or with myself. Since I’m an introvert I turn my anger inwards and eat too much, then eat too little, work out like a maniac, sleep all day, stir all night. I envy the extroverts who speak up for themselves and beat the fool out of their men. But either way, there’s no rest and no peace because once again, I’ve been scandaLIESed.
Did I misspell that? Of course, but for good reason. Am I speaking of myself? Yeah, but the krazier me…. the one that couldn’t make sense of simple truths about other peoples’ intentions. I am no longer that person.
Too many of us find ourselves trapped by bad decisions. We’re left with the guilt and embarrassment, and often, weightier consequences like unexpected children and infections. (My personal experience is that even unexpected children are a blessing, most infections can be cured with a pill, but the guilt is earth-shaking for YEARS! But the bloood of Jesus is more than enough!! *Gotta get my preach in there a little bit…*)
When I think back to those situations, and there were many for me, I come up with the same answers. Somebody somewhere told a lie… let’s start with the first responsible party. You… Oops, I meant me.
I know I’ve left myself wide open for judgment and criticism, but the truth must be told. Everyone makes mistakes, but women are often left feeling powerless and ashamed after letting down their guard, even when we have the best of intentions. Don’t try to think like a man because you can’t. Think like a woman that has good sense. Give no room to lies whether they be from you or another person because, in the end, you are the only person responsible for your well-being.
Believing the lie empowers the liar. Be bold and confront the liar, even if it’s you, with the truth. The best liars mix deception with a bit of truth to draw you in. Rightly divide, and press on. If all else fails, hang up, delete, and block. No one can argue with silence.
Sisters, it’s time to rip off the scarlet letters that remain from jilted love and lust. There is life beyond the foolishness we’ve encountered, but you have to set the framework in truth and wisdom. No more lies. No more scandals. Open your eyes.
Two final points… not all men do these things, and some do them with good intentions. Just protect yourself from the fella with good intentions that doesn’t know how to follow through. And lastly, some women pull this crap too. I’m just learning how insane some women are, so please be patient with me as I learn to present the full picture.
Now that I’ve poured out, I want to hear from you. Talk to me people. Let me know you’re following…