Just A Blog

Women in power is a privilege, not a right. "With great power, comes great responsibility."

There's a warmth and graciousness in your air,

A kindness and a protective heart wherever you roam.

Like the day is long, with each passing moment and hour

Body language that tells me all I need to know, and maybe some more.

I miss her laughter, her once insecure ways although this may be better.

She now loves herself, although she could never love herself like I love her.

The little throws of laughter on top of my words to complement some of my attempts at humor. The little tosses of looks my way, reminding me how gentle and delicate she really is, as she takes my breath away. That's it: She takes my breath away. I can't breathe as she prances around me beautifully, reminding me that this is what life is about. Her. Me. Us. LOVE.

I miss her essence, more so, I miss her presence.

As the day lingers,

on a Tuesday afternoon

Where he and I meet

For a rendezvous

Then years later

on a Friday Morning

You remained a mystery

As we discovered each other everyday

And you only let me, get as close to you

As you'd let me

Twists and turns of mazes

I ran to discover you

Yet you held yourself from me

How could I know you...if you'd never let me?

Goodbye was always in the cards, for us

Your last kiss lingered on my lips for a lifetime

Your touch became a cold sunburn to me

In the shadow of the truth you left me

Yet you still continued to protect me

And the curve of my face, then he gazed

There was a whole lot of love in AshenVille. Rob/Tuck and I were always together during our big year, our year before high school began. From every raindrop to every sunrise, we counted how long we were together, and I prayed it would never end. We were the happiest we had ever been because we found our groove and we successfully moved as one within our worlds. He had put up with a lot of stuff with me and now I was ready. He had seemed to understand all along, and maybe he was too mature for our age. I wondered what the days would bring and even imagined us getting married someday. I felt this was it, he was the one for me for the rest of my life.

The Measure of a Man/Woman

I once believed that the men held all of the answers. That they knew right from wrong and would do right, no matter what. Well life is filled with all kinds of seeds, some not too kind. I didn't even think a woman would try to do what is right after being put down most of her life! How could you be a woman without being persecuted?

The Measure of a Man was an easy definition in my mind. The Measure of a Woman, in my mind, was a bit higher than that of a man. She has to be perfect. Why? Because men are allowed to make mistakes. However, I find too assertive, emotional and demanding women to be endearing and perfect.

For the rest of the world, The definition of a woman, well, here we go:

If a woman is too assertive, she's manly.

If a woman is emotional, she has to be on her menstrual cycle!

If a woman is demanding, she is a b*tch. NOW LETS FLIP THIS:

If a man is too assertive, he's aggressive but he wants to get the job done!

If a man is emotional, wow! He's sensitive and amazing!

If a man is demanding, then you must not be getting the job done.

Not every man who holds these ways is a good man. However, it is a double standard we live. I have literally lived this, daily. These are perceptions of women in today's society. However, why should a good man be put down in lieu of anyone else? A good man should NOT be put down in lieu of anyone else. This example serves as a point for women who are viewed in high disregard for trying to make a difference.

So, while maintaining the utmost respect for men, we can also learn to appreciate a woman without distorted perceptions, eh?

Why do women have to climb ladders to Guam and back to be respected? Why do women have to be proven to be taken at their own word? Why can't an idea be just that? Why does the measure of man mean more than the measure of a woman even when a few men ask YOU to respect women? I've seen woman work twice as hard in physical labor than a man out in the field yet be disrespected fourfold for being a stay-at-home-woman. I know men in the field who stress tenfold with responsibilities not even in the job description, always trying to do the right thing. Women know disrespect so well that they have to choose to pick their battles. Save the energy for the important ones. This is not an ideal world. I know women who should be treated no less than the highest Queen you have ever known. Yet they are treated as Jacks. Well, there are a few cards out to defend the Queens with each other, or alone, whilst the King is busy defending every other number out there. I'm not saying that any card should be treated as less, however, I am saying that your problems are my problems at the end of the day and my problems will become your problems too if we don't solve them together. I'd like to see those words put into action - challenge.

You can be a great journalist, you can win awards that speak to your vanity and you can even cover every great story. Being a bad person and also throwing your successes in someone's face because you never felt that they were good enough in any way showcases your insecurities and negativities. It has nothing to do with the other person, this much is clear. It has to do with you, and only you.

When re-evaluating yourself, you might want to try a new metric. Not metrics based on shallowness and independence, because we all know you didn't get there alone. If you feel you have something to prove, then prove it to yourself and stop tearing others down because you feel like it. Obviously you had sources, but you didn't quote us. Nor have you protected us from the downfall of exposing what we knew. And if you thought it wouldn't be tracked back to us, then you're not as great a journalist as you think you are. And the damage is already done - there have been abuses, not just verbal backlash from your devaluation of others and from your low-level ethics, if you even have ethics. Like I said, I already reported this -years before you- and because nobody heard me, I didn't receive my due. Yes, people have listened to you on your "Sorrowful" platform, but you weren't the first to realize this story. So be careful, stealing someone's words may be plagiarism, but stealing someone's story is more than thievery. Now you're messing with life and all of its virtues. I guess you never figured out morals are more important than everything you try to write. Some things are better left unsaid. Ethics also come into play, but you don't follow them. You think getting a story is your bone. Too bad you won't discover the wishbone.

Morals, ethics - how do they fit into rules? Your rules aren't based around these beautiful parts of life. Your rules only present protections based on the law, and don't play into protections for those helping you and those moments that don't have a voice to speak of the protections they need. Inanimate objects matter just as much as the living.

I know many things that I think I know

However, my memory isn't failing me - it is saving me.

"Imagination is more important than knowledge." - Albert Einstein

Then I wonder, where would we be without this knowledge?

AshenVille wasn't filled solely with cute, popular people and emotional torrents. AshenVille has this peaceful stability you can't know about, unless time has passed. It is my private home, a house lost in the field, the only home I've ever known as my own. I try not to let negativity reach this home, because I know of true negativity. True negativity is not only inherent to an individual, it is also dangerous for others. True negativity seeps out of this person in vibes, words and looks. True negative people are the kind of people I try to avoid yet they have a tendency to gravitate toward myself.

He was there. With this song that wouldn't debut until ten years later--it's like some man read my mind and understood what I needed to hear. Rob understood me but I needed to hear his words even with those gestures to validate that what I was seeing, because I was seeing yet I wasn't believing. He was my hero in every word he spoke and every gesture he made. I had promised myself to you.

I'm waiting for you.

And then life opened up a bed of roses in front of me and my sister was trimming and priming each and every flower. I was taken aback by the beauty she shared. Golden rays of sunlight washed over her and showed every moment - I'm not scared of a single thing she says, although girls cringe at her words and boys retaliate like it's some kind of war. She speaks her mind and my walls just fall down. I've found somebody who speaks to me. She is not even talking at me, but I hear her soul and I fall down into the bed of roses hoping to be discovered. She walks around me - does she even notice I exist? I think I was born to make her heart heard. Every wavelength makes it through to me, I've finally found you - the sister I need in my life. The sister I need is finally here and I understand everything in life, again. Life is complete. She brings a new life to me. But when she leaves, it's like a dry burn from a ray of light. So tell me, when will she come back?

And she tells me that I need to grow up on my own,

Here, in my undiscovered brew are a few secret ingredients. There are the missing pieces to the puzzle, people who remained missing because they didn't quite know where they fit in. These are the unknown home-schooled kids. While everyone went to the blacktop to play basketball, I stayed in the field until an unknown homeschooled kid wandered into my area. At first, I was scared. I was ten and a half years old - It was about stranger danger, not about how strange he was. He was looking around the field like he was in a wild jungle setting. Of course, our middle school doesn't look very sophisticated and how some of these kids spend their recreation period is questionable. I was sitting on the grass reading a book.

This mystery stranger I was about to turn away from, because I was unsure of how to feel, was just like me. "hello. I am brady." He introduced himself. I stopped myself from walking further and turned back around. "I am Michele." If first impressions ever taught me anything, here I was schooled in how wrong a first impression can be. I had taken one look at him and judged him to be like the other students, as Hal was now fast explaining. "She doesn't get along well with others." He was saying.

"Well she won't get along with others if you don't let her try." Brady had some things to say. He continued, "I've seen you playing with others. You're not sure how to interact with kids your age. She still needs to know how to interact with kids her age." After seeing his defensive glare, the kid asked, "What will she do when you're not there?" As protective as Hal was, he had to admit that this kid was right. I was sitting with my nose in my book, feeling lightyears ahead of the rest of my peers when developmentally I was probably on the same page, maybe even falling behind. I didn't want to listen. I was happy and this was my bliss. I made Brady know. "But if you never interact, how will you know what else is out there?" I was put in my place. I looked to protective Hal, who sadly nodded and then I knew I had to try. I had to step outside of my comfort circle and learn others' ways. I looked at Hal and said, "I will try." The kid said, "I'll be taking you up on this."