Today + Tomorrow

Some people show greater interest in solving your problems than they do their own. In such cases, what might these self-appointed, habitual advice-givers be revealing about themselves? Actually, much more than you may have realized.

What the chronic advice-giver’s suggestions—often gratuitous and unsolicited—typically betray is a powerful need to prove to themselves that they could deal with your difficulties better than you could ever be expected to. And also that the depth of their intelligence, knowledge and comprehension indicates they seem to have more superiority over you. Assuming that this strong impulse to give you advice is something you’ve also seem them demonstrate with others, such behavior hints at a person whose ego demands perpetual reassurance: That it needs to be regularly reminded that it’s exceptional—somehow of a higher “rank”, “order” or "better than" the one who’s receiving the advice.

Consider that if, deep down, inveterate advice-givers view their worth on the basis of how well they compare to others, they must remain (however unconsciously) in competition with you. One way they can claim interpersonal victory—or gain the relational “upper hand”— is through, authoritatively, providing you with advice. Such individuals, firmly entrenched in the ego-gratifying habit of telling others what they should do, rarely can wait to be asked for their opinion. Routinely arrogant in declaring that they know something you don’t, they’re apt to offer suggestions or solutions prematurely. Not that their remedies aren’t generally well-intentioned. But there’s still a certain element of righteous self-satisfaction in how these opinions are volunteered. Which is why you might harbor vague, uneasy suspicions that what they’re proposing may somehow be meant as much for themselves as for you.

If you don’t particularly like their advice (and haven’t requested it anyway), you may still need to interact with them with considerable care. For since, below the surface, they’re much less self-confident than you might imagine, they could easily become upset or offended because they feel you aren't validating their ego (as perhaps their parents didn’t when they were growing up, which is a trait that can then be passed on to their own children). And—ironically—they may actually care much less about whether you accept their advice than that you value or validate it. Once again, you need to remember that their sometimes annoying habit of “telling you to take control” of your life situation relates more to their underlying insecurity and self-doubt.

It's cool.

Have an opinion.

But don't think because you know a bit more than you used too makes you able to pass judgement on people.

Once you are truly happy with yourself, you won't see the things you once hated about yourself in others and then need to express them. Or use those small details that you have labelled as flaws to shame them into thinking they aren't being their true self.

How dare you.

You should never feel self-entitled enough to tell people how to 'be' - So sit the fuck down, you child.

My anxiety, emotions, everything inside me just was not okay today.

But....

Listen to what Mum said. She's right.

Not with everything, you have to remember to speak up more. Just say it, but be nice, she's still your Mum.

They do love you. Stop backing yourself into a corner.

Be nice to your brother. As much as your hurting he's still your big brother.

Say hello.

I'm sad.

I'm crying.

I'm lonely.

I'm really sad, but I'm okay.

I'm really crying, but I'm okay.

I'm really lonely, but I'm okay.

I'm really hurting.

Editing. Adding. Making mistakes. Proof reading. All of the above.

Making sure the few posts I have are properly thought out. Told in the way I want them.

It hasn't yet been 2 weeks and I'm already building my pride up a little with this blog.

It isn't second nature to me yet but it's getting easier.

Sometimes I feel like I don't have much to say.

But in 24 hours (more like the 8 hours I'm actually awake, lesbehonest) Over a million thoughts would run through my brain. The conversations I have with people could be atleast 2 posts.

Me and a few people I know have been reading our horoscopes lately, and boy-oh-boy has it been blowing our astrological-asses out of the water.

We can usually start a good hour long discussion of what our horoscopes have been.

"I haven't been reading my horoscope lately, I haven't been feeling it" would lead us into the last time we read it, what it said, who we knew it was about, how on-point it was and what we were eating a drinking while we read it.

This discussion will 100% of the time result in us checking our star signs.

I am a Gemini, through and through.

The most emotionally unstable sign, supported the most ferocious inner strength and level-kindness of them all.

I am able to understand distressing situations as I am going through them. I can allow myself to cry and feel the pain while knowing and reassuring myself of the next steps to take and how to let my body go through what it's going.

I can establish amazing relationships and friendships through my sign. I believe in the powers of the stars and the moon through this connection of my Star Sign.

It's almost like I believe in this as much as I believe in the identity of my skin color and what it represents to me.

I am not only strong independent black woman.

Before I start this post, I am stating that I refer to myself as a Black.

Anyway, now that my biggest secret it out, I was just strolling through my Tumblr newsfeed and I stumbled upon a post where it was referencing towards someone as Person Of Color ('poc' was used) and it made me think about labels, and if it's okay.

Truthfully, I am not Black, but what my country would reference to as Brown. A Brownie.

I have been referenced as nearly every shade of the brown-to-Black spectrum and I have always been proud of it. I have taken the stigma and the nastiness of some people's words, and used it as my suit of armor. The color of our skin doesn't define us, it is merely just one aspect of our complete self.

I have friends who say it to me. And I have sometimes been offended, but love quickly gave those feelings a back seat. They didn't mean it, we have joked about these things before so I don't hold them accountable for how I felt. Because it honestly was Me. I was just a little sensitive that day but that's not on them.

We don't really see color as someone's whole being. It is merely the outside of someone, we know the importance of how someone is on the inside, who they are as a person.

And I will admit, I have asked the question they quoted on this post before.

"Are They White".

They said this is what a 'poc' would say if someone had done something and 'fucked up'.

The stigma is there.

Unrequited

[uhn-ri-kwahy-tid]

adjective

not returned or reciprocated:unrequited love.

not avenged or retaliated:an unrequited wrong.

I still miss you sometimes. Not what our frienship had, but who I was when I was at my highest. It’s something I can’t bring myself to be again. To open myself to someone else the way I had. This is the hardest part about everything.

I miss music. The way I knee we could jam a song, or laugh at lyrics. I miss how we would exchange songs and make sure that our favorite was at the moment.

I don’t miss how I felt. Insecure, confused, lied too. Not knowing if what younger telling was the truth. It didn’t feel genuine.

I don’t miss how it felt being that person.

I’m happy about who I have become. Not 100% me, but I everyday is progress.

I don’t miss you.

I have spent the better part of a week at home. Been a few weeks since I have spent so much time at the farm. And it's nice to have some quiet time just for myself.

The outside world has been chugging along and I've been able to clear my head from a few things I needed to work out.

Realising where some friendships and heading, and knowing what I'm just not wasting time on etc.

Goals, knowing who I am now, knowing what I don't have to do, and being okay with that are not going to be my resolutions this coming New Years.

Because these are things I have achieved. The year hasn't even ended yet, and I'm so glad that I still get to enjoy more of it.

I have been naughty lately. And by lately I mean, atleast 6 months or so of not caring about anything I have eaten, and not doing any form of exercise.

And boy-oh-boy do I regret this.

I'm a big guy. Always have and no doubt always will be, but it's the way I am, and I prefer this.

It's the fact that I can feel myself hiding my body the way I was when I was a teen. For the last 3 years I was working and keeping my energy levels up and making efforts towards living a better way of life that I hadn't been. But now, it's like an addict relapsing.

I feel no control. I will gladly eat whatever is displayed.

But I've noticed where my problems lie, so I'm going to have to make my way towards a better and healthier body and body image, and not a block of chocolate.

I chipped my front tooth today.

I am in mourning. Leave Me be.

*Edit 2 days later*

So, now that I have words again, I just want to say that even though the chip in my tooth is not as bad as I first thought, I'm glad it didn't actually get me as down as I thought I would.

Now, I know there is always a possibility that someone may get a front tooth knocked out or chipped, but it's a fear of mine. I would cry for it.

And to be able to actually talk to people and not be scared.

Hid my smile for a long time a few years back, so it's good to know that I won't ever do that again.

Booking for the dentist soon.

Smile, always.

So I'm standing in the kitchen and I had that moment when you've just convinced yourself to make dinner and know exactly what your grabbing first to start.

I had taken one step to get the beef stock from the cupboard when Boy piped and asked "Uncle can you get me these, please!"

He's pointing at the boxed spice container telling me that his school makes soups with these at school.

At first I was like No way Josè - but he was so adamant to do it I eventually caved and handed him some spices.

While I'm grabbing him a mixing bowl he runs with instant speed to the nearest chair, pulls it with ease towards the sink.

"Oh we use these at school!" he tells me.

I think to myself we need a base. I add a bit of water to the bowl and he starts spicing it up. Two spoons of mint, a little of the curry powder that instantly changes the water.

Constantly stirring.

Constantly paying attention to his spoonfuls.

I think I'll give him a few more ingredients. Jazz it up as I would like to say. A few more spices, and a few things from the fridge.

Mustard. The easiest to squeeze bottle is a key ingredient I found. The amount that went in makes it thicker/was fun to squeeze.

One drip of red food coloring.

Tomato sauce, for last. It's his favorite. Not as much as the mustard which I was surprised by.

I am now heavily invested in this soup at this point too.

The color is vibrant. "The red and yellow made...."

"Orange" I said to reassure him that he knew, but also that he was right.

I'm looking at him. And he takes my breath away.

He is such a smart boy. Clever. Funny. His laugh has always melted my heart.

His sister is now with us now. She's tipping water all over the bench. I hand Boy a few eggs. He knows how to crack an egg. He's feeling the textures with his hands and tells me it feel a like goo.

Lol. Goo.

I then crack an egg and show him the yolk. I separate it from the egg white and hand it to him. It's sliding over his hand and he is in awe. It eventually pops so he puts in the soup.

He finally finishes this extravagant soup after some time.

He mixes the soup one last time.

Once he turns away he is done. But I still stand a bit longer admiring his work, so proud of him.

...

Now.

...

...

Oh, that's right. Beef Stock.

…And I know I brought it up, but, am I???

I’m literally not into writing about my own life today. I’m a wee bit worried as this is only my second day on this ‘blogging’ journey and I already have writers block.

I have only ever seen this on movies, but this is feeling way too real. Like, I need a montage of me rolling up balls of paper covered in poorly thought out ideas and throwing them to an already half filled rubbish bin.

I have more of an inner monologue going on in my head then I ever vocalize, which is a good and bad thing.

I know how to hold my tongue but it’s hard to form the sentence of what I WANT to say into a way in which others NEED to hear it.

It can take a a lot to be considerate and very level-headed in a situation where you know the person you are talking to can be very defensive - being attentive and knowing where their headspace is at the time is a biggie.

Before you know it, you have made them put things into perspective.

Sorry that’s a lie. It can take someone 2 or 3 or 4,5,6 examples.

You don’t want to add any fuel that can come with being offended, and feeling like you have to defend yourself.

They just need a certain situation explained to them in a way that can make your brain stop from snowballing a bad idea into an even worse monstrous out-of-control paranoia attack.

I’ve had it happen to me.

It’s just how It goes.

I've done it to myself.

Literally had to tell myself to snap out of some of my thoughts. I snowballed into a dark area in my mind. I couldn’t see things clearly. Only focusing on negative aspects and couldn’t see the good things about certain situations. I felt like I had bitch slapped myself back into reality when I snapped out of it.

…

…

*current train of thought snaps me back into reality*

*notices the writers block disappeared*

…

Okay, I'm ready now.