A Letter To Single Parents

Dear Single Parent,
I’m writing this letter to you in appreciation of everything you do. Male or female, you have stepped up to the task, and decided that no matter what, you are going to raise your child to the best of your ability. So despite what society tells you, and despite how frustrated you can become, please know that there is someone out here in the world that really sees you, and sees your efforts, and applauds everything you do!
I have to admit that it angers me to see you all out in public, alone, doing everything by yourselves, because this is not a one-person job. This job was meant for 2 people…..an equal split. But for whatever reason, it didn’t happen that way, and here you are, doing the best you can……just to stay SANE. Please know that I see you going to work, and working very HARD, just to make sure that the baby can have a nice birthday party, or that new game system, since he/she has been so good lately, or even just providing the bare necessities. I see you going to the soccer games, basketball games, gymnastics, traveling baseball league games, all while keeping a smile on your face. I see you cooking, cleaning, helping with homework, driving car pool, and doing the last minute Science Fair Projects…..I see you!
I see you taking care of an infant, and being so frustrated, you just want to cry because this is NOT the way you planned it, and damn sure wasn’t what was promised! But nevertheless, you stand, be still, and do what you have to do for your baby. I see you loving your child unconditionally, and not really understanding how anyone could turn away a baby as beautiful as yours? I see you getting up in the middle of the night, with the colic, and the stomach viruses, and the I-just-don’t-want-to-sleep times. I see you trying to make a dollar stretch as much as possible, just so the baby can have the BEST of everything, even when it means settling for less (or nothing) for yourself. I see you!
I see the days when it hurts so bad, you just want to bust the windows out his car, or roll up on her and her new dude, and just start some ish. But you don’t….because you think about the baby, and you don’t want them to see you in that light. I see you crying in the midnight hour, because you just can’t take it anymore, you just can’t do it anymore, and yet, God sees fit to get you through to another day. I see how badly you are in need of a “Girls Night Out” or “Boys Only Night”, but instead, you rent the latest cartoon, and watch with the baby. I see you making plans for the baby’s future, and really getting excited about going broke on their college education 
But most importantly, I see you loving your child as only a parent could…..I see you being grateful that God has blessed you with a most special task….parenthood. I see you crying tears of joy, because God has blessed you with a heart of forgiveness towards the other parent. I see you rearing your child in the ways of God, because that is what is commanded of you. I see you being proud to be their parent, because there is no other child on this earth like yours. But most importantly, please know….God sees you, and so do I. 
This is dedicated to single parents, past, present, and future…….

Daddy Dearest........

So once again, I’m taking to the blog to let out some stuff. I thought I had it all out, and I was cool, but a while back, some things reached the surface….I thought they were buried and gone.

Those of you that know me, know this story, so just bear with me. I’m the product of Dwanna F. Raney Jones and Nathaniel Dyer. I was born January 22, 1982, to these proud parents. Unfortunately, I wouldn’t grow up with both parents. For whatever reason (I’ve been given a few over the y ears), my biological father (BF for short) decided that the whole “family” gig was too much for him, and he needed O-U-T. So, out he went…….never looking back….never asking to be back…..just GONE.

Fast forward to 2003…….I’ve been raised by Dwanna & Jeffrie Jones (RIP), I’m in college…doing my thing. The phone rings, and it’s my mom….she tells me, “your aunt saw Nat today”. My first thought was “Who the devil is Nat?”. Then it hit me….it was him, my BF. Just like that, he was back on the scene…..after not seeing his first born child for 19 years, he was there. Apparently, his job had moved him to my Mother’s home town (see how God has JOKES), and my aunt saw him in the store. After thoroughly blessing his soul for being a sorry excuse for a father (yay Auntie!), she took his number and passed it along to my mother. The very fact that my mother was WILLING to pass on this information just further proves her character. This man left her alone, with a sick child, and started another life….and NOT ONE TIME did she bad mouth him, speak ill of him, or even degrade him. Her only response to me was “Baby, he just wasn’t ready.”

I have this phone number…..after all these year, I have the power to reconnect to a person who I’m genetically linked to. A million questions ran thru my head……I was bursting with excitement. I really thought I’d have a “Daddy” again. Since my Daddy passed away in 1999 (way too soon), I had this hole in my heart that was nagging at me. I desperately wanted to be a Daddy’s Girl again. I wanted someone to protect me….to badger me about boys and my grades, and not driving to fast. Could I really have this again? Am I really that lucky? To have TWO MEN to be my Daddy? I closed my eyes, and I said a prayer….and I dialed the number…..

That initial conversation with my BF was very awkward. I don’t believe he thought my mother would give the information to me. After exchanging pleasantries, he instantly apologized for being a bad parent. I thought we were off to a great start! We already agreed on something! (LOL). We went on to discuss the past, and how things unfolded, and though he was careful not to blame my mother, he never really accepted much blame for himself. His excuse was that he didn’t have an excuse…things just happened because they did. Now, as an analytical person, I wasn’t buyin that AT ALL. I truly believe that everything in this world happens for a reason. Whether it’s our own free will, or divine intervention, there is always a cause. I should have known at that very moment that the relationship with my BF would NOT be what I was hoping for.

Over the next few years, I tried extremely hard to be his “little girl.” I called to check on him, I asked to get in contact with my siblings (yep, that’s right, I really wasn’t an only child….I have a brother and a sister!), I wanted him to visit me in my new city……but with each phone call, and each suggestion, there was always a bit of disappointment. There was never enough excitement about me….he was very nonchalant about a lot of my accomplishments, and he never called me. That always bothered me. I don’t think my BF has EVER initiated a conversation with me. Wasn’t the parent supposed to stalk the child? LOL. The grits really hit the fan when I needed my wisdom teeth pulled. Although I was covered on my Mother’s health insurance, there was a fee to the oral surgeon to anesthetize me. We were unaware of this fee, and not prepared to pay it. So, my first instinct is to call my BF….after all, parents take care of their children. That’s what my Mom always did….that’s what my Daddy always did….and this was my BF….so surely he would do the same. After much reluctance, my mother called him and asked him to pay the bill. His response was “No….I don’t have it”. Not, “hold on, let me try”, or “Where is the nearest Western Union”. Now, to play devil’s advocate, he might not have had it, but I SERIOUSLY doubt it. Once again, he was opting out of parenthood.

So to say the LEAST, the lack of relationship with my BF has caused me much anguish and pain. I’ve felt inadequate, unworthy, unwanted, and brokenhearted, all at the hands of my BF. It’s amazing to me how much power our parents have over our future. I never thought that I’d have issues with abandonment and neglect, because after all, I did have a Daddy. But having a Daddy, never answered those questions that often ran through my head “Why didn’t you love me enough to stay?”……”Why didn’t you choose me?” These feelings cause me to doubt if it’s possible that I’ll ever really be loved unconditionally by a male. If my own father, the man that is genetically responsible for me, chose not to love me unconditionally, how can I expect a stranger to? I once posed that question to a male friend of mine, and he said “But you did have that….your Dad married your mom, and became your Daddy…..in one day, he went from an outsider with no children, to a married man, with a daughter…he stepped up”. And yes, he’s absolutely right……….but I never understood his love for me either. I knew it was there, and I miss it terribly….but I don’t comprehend its existence.

But most of all, what really, really makes me angry, is that I don’t have the relationship I desire with my siblings. My brother is almost 19 and my sister is 7 (you do the math…LOL). I didn’t have the privilege of growing up with them……I wasn’t able to be a “big sister” to them. I don’t have childhood memories with them, I don’t have pictures with them, I don’t even know what their favorite and least favorite meals are. That hurts me…..every brother and sister, regardless of how they are related, should grow up together. I shouldn’t have to play “let’s get to know each other” with my siblings. I’m angry about that. I don’t even know where my sister is. All I know is her name, age, and birthday. Strangely enough, all of my BF’s children are born in January, within the same 1.5 weeks (Jan. 22, Jan. 23, and Jan. 31).

It goes without saying that I’ve been forever changed by this experience. I’m sure God chose me as a vessel to experience this, so I could be a light to someone else, but that responsibility is HEAVY. I’m thankful to have made it through that storm unscathed, and polished, but the journey was ROUGH.

So how do I feel now about my BF? Most days, I don’t……..I don’t feel happy, I don’t feel sad, I don’t feel anything about him personally. His actions have caused me pain, but there is no connection between us. It has been nearly a year since we last spoke, and I’m ok with that. Do I still yearn to be in relationship with him? No….I’ve moved passed that time in my life. I don’t believe he can be what I need him to be. I will always acknowledge and respect him as my BF, because God commands me to do so. I’m just glad God didn’t add in “and you also have to like it”…..otherwise, I’d have some issues…..

"In Between"

After much soul searching, I finally broke down and joined Facebook! (LOL). For the longest time, I proclaimed that Facebook was the DEVIL, mainly because all of the users I knew were completely and totally addicted. I’m already a “Crackberry” addict, so I didn’t need anything else to check. But, I did it anyway. To my surprise, there were some folks out there looking for me…..people I hadn’t seen since high school or before. It was cool to see what they looked like now, where they worked……If they had gotten their act together (we all know some people that just don’t want to grow up!) But what shocked me the most was all the people that I knew that were MARRIED. Almost all of the female friends that I found from high school had a hyphenated last name! Initially, I didn’t really pay attention to it, but one day, I started thinking about where I was in life, and the plans that God has for me…..and I realized that I felt like I was in this “in between” stage in life. I’m still single and enjoying it, but the desire to be married, and have children is getting stronger by the day! I felt like I was “in between” contentment with my current situation and the desire to be in relationship (marriage) with someone.

I’m very blessed to have a mixture of friends. I have quite a few friends that are both single and married. It’s very funny when we all get together, because the married friends are always telling the single friends to “stay single”. Now the irony in that is none of them, not one, is filing divorce papers, so clearly, SOMETHING IS GOOD about married life. So there it is once again….this “in between”….to be single and live it up, or to be “wifed up” and settled? Some days, I feel one or the other, some days I feel both, and some days, my head hurts from just thinking about it all.

I’m only 27 years old, (28 soon….LOL), which is still considerably young for society standards, but I always thought I’d be married by now. I’m not sure who’s gauge I was using to determine the “proper” time for God to bless me with a husband, but I all I knew was that the plan was NOT to be single for this LONG! LOL. I keep telling myself that God is either preparing me or He’s preparing my husband, but either way, I’m getting ANXIOUS. It’s very possible that the plan for me is NOT to be married….and that’s a bit scary to take in for me. I guess this is where my faith in God and Him knowing what’s best for me comes into play.

Still, I can’t help but wonder…..where’s my hyphen? Is he out there? Is someone going to come into my life, and uplift me? Am I going to be the wife and mother that I aspire to be? The kind of wife and mother that my mother was? And should I be worried about any of this now? At what age, should I be “nervous?” This “in between” thing is really amazing!!!

One Sunday at my church, a guest speaker said “If you are married, thank God that someone is willing to put up with you, and if you are single, thank God that you don’t have to put up with NOBODY!” I guess I should be grateful about not having to put up with anybody……but I still hope and pray for the day that I can say “He gets on my NERVES!!!” Until then, I’m still hangin “in between”…………..

What's "My Size?"

So, I’m in my room, cleaning out my closet, when I see a commercial for “Plato’s Closet”, a well known boutique that you can sell “gently used” clothing to. A light went off in my head….after all, it is a recession….LOL. I packed up about 10 pairs of pants (some with the tags still on them….I know HORRIBLE), and a few shirts, and went happily to the store. I go in, and answer the basic questions about if I’ve ever shopped with them before, and do I know the store policies. I was told to wait about 15-20 mins while they sort my items. So, I look around the store, checking out what they sell, and I notice that everything in the store is TINY. Not just small, but super, duper, TINY. Initially, it didn’t bother me, because I’m used to having the “Plus Sizes” or “Women Sizes” or whatever other label they put on it in the back of the store, or mixed in with the clearance.

As I approach the cash register, I notice that most of my bundle is STILL in the laundry bag. I ask the sales person why, and she says “Oh, we don’t go up to your size here”. **Insert extreme shock, and a few profanities, but only in my head**. I simply gathered up my items, and took them to the car. Now usually, I would have felt defeated, because yet again, society is telling me there is something wrong with the way I look….but instead, I got PISSED OFF! How dare they deny me! What is wrong with “my size?”. Are there not women out there that want a good deal on clothing that are “my size?”. Outrage was an understatement for the way I felt. But it got me thinking: Why is there such a distinction in clothing and fashion? Why don’t designers make clothes to fit EVERYONE? I know that fashion is an artform, and every artists needs their muse, but seriously, I only know about 3 people that are below a size 10. LOL. So in theory, these designers are LOSING MONEY by NOT manufacturing for the masses….imagine how much money would be spent if YSL (Yves Saint Laurent), D&G (Dolce & Gabbana), DVF (Diane von Furstenberg), and Chanel, all made clothing to fit EVERY WOMAN. The fashion houses wouldn’t be able to keep up with the demand!

But what’s even more scary, is that there are young girls out there, who (for whatever reason) aren’t “small”, and they are facing this type of rejection. I’m a grown woman, and it was difficult for me to deal with. So, what are we teaching the generations to come? That they should do whatever they can to be thin, so they can enjoy fashion like everyone else? Or, that they should feel ashamed and damaged because they AREN’T supermodel size? I remember being that teenager….and although my confidence was through the roof (still is…LOL), it was very HARD to see past all those images, and appreciate M-E.

A friend of mine once told me to get my “swagga up” (Swagga is a term used to define your presence…LOL). When I asked him why, he said because there was nothing wrong with me, and that the only person that my size mattered to was me…….now, coming from a man, that was DEEP…..because I had/have confidence issues in that department. He went on to say that men love confidence……and that a confident woman will always trump the skinny woman! LOL.