Reflections From the Heart

January 17, 2018 · 10:14 PM

Fairy Tale or a Cinderella Complex?

Excerpt from Chapter 12 of
“Running in Heels: A Memoir of Grit and Grace“

He pranced round the corner.

His arresting, mystifying air captivated me: suave, debonair, and oh, quite a looker. I thought, I’ll stroll on by and check him out. Quickly making mental notes: tall, dark, high cheekbones, broad shoulders–

He turned with a mischievous grin, showing dimples! I averted my eyes and sauntered on by. He whistled. A warm sense of elation swept over me as I thought: He seems older; more mature than the other boys I’ve dated. Surely, this one has already sown his wild oats. I didn’t grasp how much older until later. But at the time I didn’t care.

He was a native of West Indies, thirty-two years old and born on June 6, 1943. If he had claimed that a year after he was born they had named a memorable day on his behalf, calling it D-Day—the “D” standing for Don—I would have believed him. Starry-eyed, I hung on to his every word. He could have said he hung the moon, and I wouldn’t have doubted him.

Cinderella-and-Charming-cinderella-and-prince-charming-31472131-900-654

photo credit: Brianna Garcia

That was me in another life.

Once upon a time, I envisioned men made decisions and had more power over women. So when he came along, I depended on him for my sanity, security, and stability. He would make me whole. Do you know, this theory makes women choose to stay in dysfunctional relationships?

I’ve since read that some women fear independence. Say what? Yep. Oh, they may think they’ve got it all together and are brave and self-sufficient enough, but the bottom line is they have an unconscious desire to be taken care of by others. This was obviously me!

I thought I had found myself a knight in shining armor and allowed him to whisk me away, and soon became a teenage bride to a sweet-talking, hard-hitting man twice my age. He didn’t show much love, nurturing, or tenderness, but was harsh and fed on my low self-esteem. His motto: “I’m the man, you’re the woman.” He had a twisted notion of submissiveness. Before I knew it, I was like a doormat, constantly being walked on and becoming subservient to his every whim. I did not respect him. I feared him. Yet, I remained in that relationship for fifteen enduring years.

My smile hid the pain in my heart, as makeup hid the bruises on my face. It would be years of trials and four precious children later before I found the courage to stand on my own two feet and the courage to walk away from an abusive marriage.

A few years ago, the best help book I was given on marriage was “Love & Respect” by Dr. Emerson Eggerichs. He refers back to Ephesians 5:33: “However, each one of you also must love his wife as he loves himself, and the wife must respect her husband.” There are many nuggets in this one book. Eggerichs suggested that love alone is not enough for a successful marriage. In a nutshell, a wife has one driving need: to feel loved. When that need is met, she is happy. A husband has one driving need — to feel respected. When that need is met, he is happy.

I am happy to report that I eventually remarried after being a single mom. For nearly 24 years, I’ve been married to a wonderful, caring, and loving man. God does answer prayers! I am grateful that, through all our struggles, we remain committed to one another, no matter what. I’m no expert, but I can say no marriage is so good that it can’t be made better. We continually work on cultivating love and respect, as well as forgiveness, because neither of us is perfect.

So I ask you:

What practical ways make a healthy marriage?
What is your idea of how love is expressed in marriage?
How important is self-worth?
Define some unrealistic expectations.

And while we’re on the subject of fairy tales … maybe I’ll touch on my thoughts on the Peter Pan syndrome at a later date.

11 Comments

Filed under Cinderella Complex, Relationships

Tagged as Cinderella Complex, Dr. Emerson Eggerichs, emotional problems, Ephesians 5:33, fear, love, relationship issues, respect, self-worth, unrealistic expectations

January 11, 2018 · 1:33 PM

French Toast

A neighbor, a hefty woman with floppy arms, lived alone, and liked children. Whenever I stopped in for a visit, she’d have a treat to offer me. She handed me a large chocolate Easter bunny once and then asked what I wanted for breakfast.

“French toast!” I sang, bouncing up and down. The neighbor put on an apron and shooed me out of her kitchen with her jiggling arms.

In the dining room, I sat on a chair with my legs swinging. I got up to stretch. I walked around and traced my hand over a flower arrangement, almost knocking the vase over. My eye caught a candy dish that sat in the center . . .

“Don’t you touch anything,” the neighbor called from the kitchen.

“I’m not,” I replied and returned the purple jellybean that I had licked.

A black cat-shaped clock hung on the wall. I followed the big, moving eyes and long, swinging tail—back and forth, back and forth, tick-tock, tick-tock. I gazed across dusty photo frames that filled the shelves and windowsills and wondered if any pictures were of her as a child. I wanted to thumb through her assortment of worn-out picture books and Life magazines stacked on bookshelves and floor. But I didn’t dare.

The aroma coming from the kitchen made my stomach rumble. I heard footsteps and raced to sit back down. The neighbor put a plate in front of me stacked with golden-brown French toast. She poured warm maple syrup over the fluffy slices of sweet bread. I knew I never smelled or tasted anything so delicious. My one regret: eating too fast and becoming full too quickly. Then I watched, horrified, as she collected my plate and tossed the rest into the trash, because I had eaten half a slice and tried to hide it in the bottom of the stack. I would have brought the rest home to share with Mama and eat later.

picture credit to 12tomatoes.com

(An excerpt from “Running in Heels – A Memoir of Grit and Grace“)

Reflecting on 2017

Hello fans and followers! Happy New Year! I hope you had a wonderful Christmas… I thought we would do something a little different for this week’s blog post. Something more interactive… As we move into the New Year, let’s reflect what the year 2017 has been for us. Please post your reply in the comments below.

2017 was the year of _____________.

creativity

relationships

growth / learning

financial development

other (please specify)

Happy-New-Year-Sayings-2

4 Comments

Filed under New Year

Tagged as 2017, Happy New Year, personal, reflecting, reflections

December 29, 2017 · 10:04 PM

My Reasons for Writing

One of my cousins from across the miles posed a couple of great questions, giving me food for thought. He asked:

Why do you write? And why do you write about the family?

My answer to him:

First of all, I write because I know I have a story to tell. As a kid, eventually, I discovered we were dirt poor. In my teens looking back, I realized that I was neglected and forced to grow up too fast. I was ashamed of my childhood and bitter for being my mama’s mother. As I “matured,” settled down, married, and had children of my own, along the way I found I was a stronger person because of some of the things that I endured as a child.

Once I embraced the God of my grandparents, I became a much better person, too. NOT that I had it all together; I still had a few things to learn. But I learned that it was much better to let go of the bitterness and to forgive than to hold onto the junk.

I also learned that I didn’t have to be a product of my environment! I could rise above the ashes like a phoenix and become so much better. That was my freedom — still is — and God has called us to liberty, not to be in prison. Sure I made some mistakes along the way, but I learned from them as well. It starts with a made-up mind! While I’ve managed to confront my past, I believe my past hasn’t spoiled me, but has prepared me for the future. I may not be perfect but whenever I stumble, I can wipe the crud off and walk on. I share my story that I might help one person – and if I have done that then I have done a good thing and God gets the glory. Photo Credit: LifeOverCancerBlog.typepad.com

I mention family because the little girl growing up — although she may have felt like she was alone most times — she was not an orphan and did not live on an island unto herself. There were others around who helped to nurture her in one fashion or another, even, the antagonists in her story. And yes, some were heroes. She cannot tell her story without mentioning those she looked up to. For it to be truthful, she had to address some real and raw emotions and mentioned the flaws — the good, the bad, and the ugly.

The story is not fiction. It is written about how she remembers the events that took shape in her life as a child, a teenager, and into her adulthood. All the memories do not take her to a happy place. She has had to dig deep to find them. To some, those “happy” places may be simple and insignificant, but to her, they were her lifeline.

His response:

I am keeping this to remind me what it takes to be selfless.

Thanks

I did not expect THAT answer

7 Comments

Filed under Memoir, writing

Tagged as Family, inspiration, memoir, memories, Musing, personal, rambling, writing

December 15, 2017 · 10:00 PM

Saying Goodbye for Now

It doesn’t get any easier, folks. I had to say goodbye to another precious saint of God. Mary Anne Copelin, my spiritual mother, mentor, and friend, was 91 years old.

This woman of God was a true doer of the Word, believed in having a prayer life, and always sitting on ready. She was a Bible teacher, a missionary, an author, a powerhouse, and a force of nature! She touched all who came across her path. She knew the Word of God and flowed under the anointing. She always said she’d rather miss God in trying to be obedient than miss Him in not trying.

Mrs. C first came into my life some 35 years ago. At the time, I was an empty shell—broken and undone. Mrs. C picked me up, dusted me off, and took me under her wing. Then, she loved me, schooled me, and encouraged me. She allowed me to cry countless times and bare my soul. I didn’t always like or agree with everything she suggested, but I respected her knowledge and sound wisdom.

I learned much from her; some lessons took a while to sink in. I came to the realization that I am a spiritual being. I need to be who I am and not try to imitate someone else. I need to love myself first to love others. The self I need to reject is the “flesh” which dominates my soul. The flesh will abuse or misuse my personality. To have a healthy self-respect, I must see myself as a person of dignity and worth. The one with no self-worth or self-esteem tends to hide behind a mask. Been there, done that.

Over the years, I’ve met and have come to know many wonderful and dear sisters in the Lord; many are friends to this very day. Through Mrs. C’s ministry, I met another saint of God, Elizabeth Bearden, whom we also grew to love and even cared for her in her later years until she crossed over to be with the Lord.

Yes, I am grateful that this one woman enriched my life and instilled in me hope for change. Throughout my struggles and setbacks, she pushed me forward and taught me the importance of God’s grace.

So, Mary Anne, I say so long for now. Thank you for your life and for treating me like a loving daughter, even when I didn’t feel so loving. I thank God for knowing you and for being a vital part of not only my life but also the lives of my family. We will miss you until we see you again.

18 Comments

Filed under Legacy

Tagged as character, Christian, death, dignity, friendship, good bye, Grace, legacy, ministry, personal, self-worth, so long, Spiritual Mother

November 30, 2017 · 7:12 PM

Running in Heels: A Memoir of Grit and Grace, Mary A. Perez — RED HEADED BOOK LOVER BLOG

Perez has written her story in a way which speaks to the reader. At the core of her story is the tone of refusing to be a victim and that there is hope, even after a traumatic period. Her inspiring words and lessons laced throughout…

24282279_10215517555479857_866293258_n

View original post via Running in Heels: A Memoir of Grit and Grace, Mary A. Perez — RED HEADED BOOK LOVER BLOG

Thank you Aimee Ann for the warm and wonderful review. I felt you grasped the true meaning of the message throughout the pages!

Thanksgiving Poem

Thank God for everything!
Help spread thanks to others.
A time of thanks and a time for family and friends.
Never forgot what the Lord has provided unto us.
Knowing we are blessed by our Heavenly Father.
Serve each other with Thanksgiving.
Give to one another.
I thank you God for all that you hath done for me.
Visit others and share a time of being thankful.
In everything we do God the thanks.
Now is the time to thank God, do it everyday for all things.
God be given the glory forever and ever. – Amen

By Steve Patterson

187306-131-1D18F8C1

Down. Not Out.

FACES. HARSH. AND GRIM.

Countenances from every lifestyle.

Frozen in time. The daunted old. The impulsive young.

Uncertain of tomorrow. Unsure of today.

Did they come from broken homes? Torn marriages? Abusive relationships? Addictions?

How did I get here?

As I waited in the line that stretched out the door into the hot sun, I swallowed what dignity I had left. When my turn came, the woman behind the window shoved stacks of papers my way.

“Next,” she called out in a gruff voice.

“You know, I’ve never been here before. Just need some help.”

She rolled her eyes. “Next.”

I scuttled away to find a chair, and thought, Lord, give me the grace to endure or get me outta here.

Reluctantly, with trembling hands, I filled out the food-stamp forms.

(excerpt from Running in Heels – A Memoir of Grit and Grace)
*** LIMITED TIME OFFER *** .99cents *** Kindle Edition ***

* Amazon UK ** £0.90 ** LIMITED TIME OFFER ** £0.90 ** Amazon UK *

The moment I started it, I had echoes of ‘The Glass Castle’. This is recommended for anyone who loved Walls’ memoirs, as they have some strong parallels.” – Kath Cross (blogger).

1 Comment

Filed under Memoir, Running in Heels

Tagged as charity, destitute, humbling, indigent, memoir, personal

November 8, 2017 · 10:06 PM

No Guts, No Glory

When he drank, my husband became an overwhelming monstrosity. One drink was one too many, ten never enough. The more I tried to be supportive, the more he was in denial, declaring, “I can quit anytime I want.”

Emotions carved a hole in me like the machete Donny used to slice at the shrubs, vines, and lurking snakes. I hated seeing my husband in a drunken stupor, losing touch with reality. But when he was sober and in his right frame of mind, I became goo-goo eyed, in love with him all over again.

The paradox of my heart.

One foot in front of the other—that’s how I kept my sanity intact. Much too encumbered to mull over my plight, I tended to my girls and even began thinking about babysitting other children for extra income.

By then, Donny threatened much, delivered less. I tried to ignore his childish ways whenever he became too tipsy to do anything but slur and stumble about.

Except for maybe once . . . or twice.

I opened the door and knew full well what to expect. Glassy-eyed, with his newly grown mustache over a silky smirk, Donny was swaying back and forth. My Prince Charming had turned into a frog. He mumbled and staggered in. His pores reeked of booze and a sour odor permeated the air.

“Where have you been all night?”

A snicker and a sneer were his only response.

“You’re drunk as a skunk,” I said in disgust. I watched him trip over his own feet and throw himself on the sofa. “Do you know what time it is?” I persisted.

“Shut up, woman!” he slurred, rolled over, and sprawled on the couch, out cold.

Enough is enough. I’ll show him. I’ll teach him if it’s the last thing I do!

I went into the bathroom. Donny’s shaving kit beckoned.

Images of a masterpiece ran wild in my head. With purpose in mind and a razor in hand, I stood over my prince-turned-toad, still snoring. Most likely, he dreamt he was a young Nimrod, back in Antigua chasing skirts, for all I knew.

Ever so cautiously, I leaned forward and began to give him a wee bit of a trim . . .

Come morning, I sat across the kitchen table from Donny, my gaze fixed on his slouched frame, forehead glistening, eyes bloodshot, hands trembling with white knuckles as he gripped the coffee pot. Suffering from another painful hangover, I observed while he poured.

I glared, poker-faced, amazed by my own bravado. Suspense was killing me.

“How’s your mustache?” I asked.

Nonchalantly, he brushed his fingers over his lip and started to rise. “It’s fine,” he croaked and downed his coffee. He refilled his cup and headed out, slamming the door behind him.

Oh well . . . I did try to clue him in. I went into the kitchen to make breakfast.

An hour later, I answered the phone to the anticipated call. “Hello?”

“I’ll give you this one,” my husband retorted. “You’re getting to be a gutsy broad. I’m getting picked on here by all the guys at work.”

I snickered to myself. “Kinda surprised you didn’t notice anything this morning, Donny.”

“Well, you got me. Have to admit, this is a good one.”

I placed the receiver down and sat back on the recliner. A smile twisted the corners of my mouth as I replayed the events of the night before . . .

I’d bent to my task but had frozen when he stirred and muttered something. I backed away and ditched the idea of finishing. I left him asleep in the living room and crawled into bed.

Over coffee this morning, I figured he’d take a hint. Instead, he went straight to work with half a mustache.

I confess: such rare acts of sweet revenge gave a natural high.

(excerpt from Running in Heels – A Memoir of Grit and Grace)

“The moment I started it, I had echoes of ‘The Glass Castle’. This is recommended for anyone who loved Walls’ memoirs, as they have some strong parallels.” – Kath Cross (blogger).

4 Comments

Filed under Memoir, narcissist

Tagged as alcoholism, memoir, narcissist, personal, relationship

November 1, 2017 · 5:28 PM

Hear Ye! Hear Ye!

The moment I started it, I had echoes of ‘The Glass Castle’. This is recommended for anyone who loved Walls’ memoirs, as they have some strong parallels.” -Kath Cross (blogger).

If you like Kindle, you can now save 80% on my memoir –
it’s just .99c at the moment, was $4.99.