…and then I was interviewed by my siSTARS đź’«
Please enjoy this video of me and Michelle at Me, Intimatelyworded interviewing author and writer Dr. K. E. Garland at Kwoted
In this video, Dr. Garland talks about her writing process and the affect that some of her subject matter has had on her personally.
And YES, my Southern accent is SUPER THICK in this one!
Stay tuned for subsequent videos!
Please comment below!
I usually can’t write about something, unless I’m completely over it. That’s why I have about 6,000 notes related to breaking up with my bff and no posts about it. Ever since June, I’d try to begin my thoughts. Each time, I produced nothing.
But this time, I’m doing it.
We were friends for a decade and a half. Fifteen years is a long time. We’d friended our way through childbirth, divorce and international relocations. If you’ve been friends with someone for this long, then you know the laughs, tears, secrets, and experiences that can accumulate. There are too many to count.
That’s why breaking up was difficult. I felt its dissipation at least three years ago, but I thought it would pass. I figured if I gently expressed my new journey to her then, she would understand and join me. That’s not reality. Everyone cannot walk beside you on your path. Everyone is not supposed to.
And you know what? I’ve learned that it’s okay if they don’t. Equally important, I’ve become a little more conscious about who I am in friendships and what I want in those relationships:
I want to be the person’s friend, not her therapist. Friends listen to one another during their times of need. I get it. However, if all our phone calls include me listening to you and your problems, then that’s not a friendship. That’s a therapy session. Asking me to be your part-time counselor is not fair to me or you. Also, I’ve discovered that my tolerance level is low when it comes to this. Some people find this cold and unfeeling, but it’s quite the opposite. I empathize deeply. I take whatever you’ve revealed to me and literally feel your emotion. When it’s traumatic, it weighs heavy. Until I learn to let go of others’ issues, I need my friends to seek therapy, instead.
I want my friends to grow. Is this fair to say? You all know I’m always seeking growth, physically, spiritually, academically, whatever. If you’ve known me for any length of time, then I’m probably not the same person you first met. I hope this doesn’t sound like I’m saying I want a friend who is a mirror image of me. I don’t. But if we’re friends, then I want to know that you care about your own well-being and that maybe, you and I will help one another get there. Here’s the tricky part. Growth begins with self-reflection. And self-reflection requires looking in the mirror and being honest with oneself. I’ve learned the hard way that I can’t make someone self-reflect.
I want my friends to be non-judgmental. For real. I’ve been singing the non-judgment song for about four years. Now, I’m not perfect. Sometimes I still screenshot the occasional text to a mutual friend and wonder “what in the world is wrong with her?” But not always good people. Other people’s business is not often the topic of my own conversations. That’s because I’m too busy doing #2 ^^^ self-reflecting and growing. If the purpose of you reaching out to me is to discuss when someone else is going to get her life together, then you and I probably don’t need to connect that often.
Over the years, I’ve gained and lost quite a few girlfriends. The main reason is because I’d never thought twice about who the person was when we met. It was more like, you like eating out and partying? Me too. Let’s get together and do that, and then we became friends. The end of those friendships forced me to process how or why we became close. I’ve determined the answer is usually rooted in the energy surrounding me at the time. But I’ll save that discussion for another day.
For now, I’m wondering, have you ever broken up with a friend? Did it bother you? Have you thought about what you want in a friendship? Do you have long-lasting friendships? If so, how’d that happen?
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August 12th was a beautiful day. We’re in Florida so it was 98,000 degrees, but it was a beautiful 98,000 degrees because my friend, Tarra had just returned from China. She’d been singing in a Shanghai nightclub for the past eight months.
WhatsApp kept us close. Text messages, videos and voice-recordings preserved our relationship.
“Plan a day for us,” she texted before her arrival.
I agreed, but I forgot to tell her that I rarely plan things anymore, not entire days at least. She’d find out soon enough.
We began that Saturday with breakfast at our favorite spot, Another Broken Egg.
“Do you mind if I invite John?” she asked.
I didn’t mind. I’d visited John’s home with her last year. Blue crab and conversation permeated the air and left me with a fondness for him. It was fine.
We talked and laughed over fried green tomatoes, lobster and Brie omelets, and shrimp and grits. Tarra’s overseas stories captivated my imagination, and reminded me of every other artist’s story; the opportunity to sing in another country was fascinating, but underhanded business practices seem to be the norm.
Once breakfast was over, a girl outside agreed to photograph our mini photo shoot:
Tarra by herself.
Tarra and me.
Tarra and John.
John and me.
Tarra, John, and me.
I’m grateful for younger people who understand the importance of documenting events. She didn’t ask questions or look annoyed.
A few weeks prior, I’d asked Tarra if she wanted to do a wine tasting.
“I’d love to,” she responded. “I’ve never been to one.”
Doing things that someone has never done before excites me. I dusted off my Cooper’s Hawk wine tasting gift card and we headed ten minutes up the street. My friend had only had an African Shiraz and hadn’t been very impressed. Now, we were on a red wine mission.
As the sommelier poured and explained each glass, I laughed as Tarra’s former educator-self shone through. Check + for Rosé. Check – for Lux Pinot Noir.
We talked about over-40 lady issues, her relationships, and my children. I shared my latest writing projects with her. We high-fived and toasted to achievements and marveled at how we’d attained them in the first place. That’s the type of friend she is. We’ve deemed one another Dream Partners. She was there when I completed my PhD and I was there before she stepped into her calling. Everyone needs someone to say, “You can do it,” especially when you’re not so sure you should, much less can. She’s that friend.
I checked my phone. It was two o’clock already.
“I have a confession,” I began, “I know it’s not like me, but I didn’t plan the rest of the day. I’ve changed quite a bit…not as anal as I used to be. I figured we’d just find something to do.”
“You know. That’s not like you at all, but we can do whatever.”
A thought popped into my mind. “Let’s take a riverboat tour!”
She agreed. Twenty minutes later, we were downtown and looking for the loading dock. We’d also lucked out and could do an hour tour with another group.
By now it was 158,000 degrees outside, plus those eight tastings were slowly taking effect. I fell asleep about 15 minutes in, so much so that when Tarra woke me up just in time to take this picture, I didn’t even remember that I was on a boat. My photog instinct kicked in just in time. And I’m grateful because this is something I’ve only seen from the water.
“You’re welcome!” She said. “I thought you wouldn’t want to miss this.”
“Thank you,” I said, wiping my forehead with the toilet tissue the tour guide had handed me when we first boarded.
Our water taxi lasted much longer than an hour. The captain’s and tour guide’s shifts ended, and somehow, we ended up taking another lap around the St. Johns River with the new crew.
We disembarked by five o’clock and headed to her friend’s get together. There, three other women welcomed Tarra back to the States. One of the lady’s husbands had made blue crab, shrimp, sausage, and eggs, a Jacksonville staple. We sat around the round, glass table and reveled in Tarra’s growth and presence. It’s hard not to leap spiritual bounds when you’ve been living independently overseas.
My phone read 9:00. It was time for me to hug Tarra good-bye and head back home.
I reflected on the twelve hours we’d shared. They were easy. They were calm. They were relaxing. They were exactly how I would expect spending the day with a friend should be.
Hi Everyone! It’s Women’s History Month, so I thought it was the perfect time to release a series of videos that I’ve participated in with two of my close women blogging friends. We call each other SiSTARS!
The first three interviews are intended to help you get to know Lady G a little better. If you don’t already follow her, be sure to do so at seekthebestblog.com! And if you already do, then you understand why Michelle and I had to interview her 🙂
A few weeks ago, a “friend” of mine read one of my FB posts, followed the comments, and then sent me this message via inbox:
You be so fake in your comments.
Or something like that. I can’t give a direct quote because after we conversed, I deleted the message. His unsolicited opinion bothered me that night. It stuck with me because of how I’d replied. Initially, I defended myself. I wanted to show him that I wasn’t being “fake.” It continued to irk me because I’ve worked so hard to be my authentic self no matter where I am, social media, in person, wherever. I’ve made conscious decisions to shine my personal light. Then, it bothered me because it bothered me. Have you ever felt like that?
It lingered in my thoughts for about 48 hours. By that time, I knew I had to remove him and his words from my consciousness. They were both taking up too much space in my mind. That Sunday night, I flipped through don Miguel Ruiz’s The Four Agreements, until I found the one that fit: Don’t take anything personally.
If I see you on the street and say, “You are so stupid” without knowing you, it’s not about you, it’s about me. If you take it personally, then perhaps you believe you’re stupid.”
After reading a few more pages, I meditated, sipped my lavender tea, and let go of the incident.
About a week later, one of the ladies from the book club I’m hoping to join reached out to me and said, “I like your spirit.” This comment elicited the opposite emotion. I was elated. Who doesn’t want to hear nice things said about her personality? And like I’d mentioned above, I’ve worked on portraying my true self. So, I was overjoyed that someone I’d just met noticed a positive trait.
But I had to remember agreement #2. It still applied. You see, Ruiz continues to explain that even if someone says something that you agree with, then there’s still no reason to take it personally. A person’s opinion, whether positive or negative, is based on how that person feels in that moment. Tomorrow, the same person might have something horrible to say.
The first time I read this it didn’t quite click. After receiving two different opinions within a week of one another, it now makes perfect sense. Not only is taking other people’s opinions personally exhausting, it can also be an indication that you’re not secure with who you are. If I know that I’m an authentic person, with a great spirit, then others’ opinions should be neither denigrating, nor uplifting. They should just…be.
Let me know what you think. How do you deal with other people’s opinions of who you are? Do people offer opinions of your personality?
*Edited for Forgiving Fridays. Participate here:Â https://forgivingconnects.com/2017/05/05/todays-forgiving-fridays-i-have-a-question-3/comment-page-1/#comment-3373
Some people will only call; they’ll never visit. Hearing the sound of your voice is enough to fill thousands of miles between.
Some people will only text; they’ll never call. lolz, emoji smiles, and gifs are enough to remind them of the place you hold in their hearts.
Some people will only check social media to determine your well-being; they’ll never text. Reading about your last coffee house visit or your latest societal gripe is good enough to know you still exist.
Some people will allow you to fade into a distant memory, assigning your time together as a seasonal happenstance, relegating your relationship to a blip on life’s journey.
Most will do what they want to maintain a relationship. Who are you? What’s your relationship style?
I have quite a few people whom I call friend. There are friends who I never speak to, but still hold the title. A woman named Mika fits into this category. We’ve known each other since we were six. We went to the same schools, up until senior year. She attended my wedding and I attended hers. Her husband even edited my dissertation for free because I didn’t have money at the time. However, I haven’t verbally spoken with her in about two years. We haven’t seen each other in even more time. Still, I know she’s my friend.
I have other friends who begin text messages as if we spoke yesterday.
“KG, what did I say in this last post that could’ve been negative or offensive?” my friend Calvin asked the other day. Excluding the are you okay because a hurricane is covering your state convo, we haven’t had a real conversation in about eight months. We lol’d and emoji’d for the next few hours. He described how his oldest daughter was doing at her private university and I shared how my oldest is doing living on her own going to community college. In between, we talked about how ridiculous Facebook has gotten, and then hours later we said ttyl and good night.
My other friend, Wanda’s birthday is six days before mine. That’s how our friendship began. For years, she and I would road trip to Atlanta or Orlando with a couple of other women to celebrate. After a while, that ended. But our friendship remained. Currently, we talk on the phone every now and then. We go out to eat occasionally. She was one of my number one supporters when I released The Unhappy Wife book, wearing the t-shirt all around Jacksonville, and holding conversations with anyone who would listen and purchase a copy. I know if anything ever happened, this chick would not only hide the body, but also regulate her breathing so she could pass the lie detector test.
I also have friends that are former high school students. I haven’t taught at that level for eleven years, and it took me a minute to be comfortable with calling these women friends, because of society’s rules. But I’ve had to admit that’s who they’ve come to be. Each is nearing 30, and as individual relationships grow, I’ve noticed that every woman mirrors a part of me. One is eccentric, wishes for no one’s opinion, and lives life unabashedly on her own terms. Another is a goal-setter, with her life paved out. The last one’s challenging home life used to dictate who she was and how she lived, but not anymore; she lives consciously and takes responsibility for her energy and space. Reflection is an understatement. They are me; and I am them.
I have another friend who I’ve never met! I’ve talked about her before. She’s a WordPress blogger named Mek. We haven’t met because she lives on a different continent. For a while, we talked at least once a day through an app. Then, our relationship stabilized and now we reach out when there is time. Our conversations include a lot of riiights and high-fives because, for the most part, we get each other. She knows all about my family’s successes and challenges, and I know about hers. We cheer each other on when there’s something that requires pom-poms and listen when there’s something that requires an ear. Without hesitation, she is my friend.
A few years ago, I would’ve argued that everyone is not your friend. I used to apply a static set of rules to all friendships. How could we be friends if you don’t follow my blog? How could we be friends if I haven’t talked to you in three years? Over time, I’ve learned that’s not fair to the person or the relationship, and it’s a bit unrealistic. People are different, and consequently, so are the ways in which they relate to others.
What I’ve realized is friendships are fluid. While each friendship has been created out of mutuality, no two friends are alike and that should be respected. Because of this, I’ve learned to appreciate each friend’s individual personality as a constant gift of love that ebbs and flows throughout my life. In that way, I’m grateful for each person, no matter how and when they show up.
This is how I now define friendship. How do you define a friend? What makes someone your friend? Have your “requirements” changed over time?
They say a lesson will repeat itself until learned. Well, there are a few experiences that continue to resurface even though I’m sure I’ve been a great student and gleaned all that I can. I just can’t take it no more y’all! Maybe the universe feels otherwise. Either way, here are four things I’m over.
People feeling shitty but blaming it on me. Have you ever walked in a room and immediately felt sadness, then later learned the person who lives there is sad about something? This happens to me quite a bit, except the person who’s wrapped in sadness, anger, or hurt doesn’t realize it and attempts to blame it on something I’ve said or done. I believe the technical term is called, projection. Over the years, I’ve found it’s more convenient for people to point the finger at me, as if I’ve done something to make them feel bad, rather than be still and take account of their own energy field. It recently happened with one of my cousins, and let me tell you…I’m over it. I truly wished we all learned how to take responsibility for our own space and thoughts and then functioned from that place.
This ongoing feud between my brother-in-law, his wife, and me. For over twenty years, I’ve teetered back and forth in a tit-for-tat relationship with my BIL and his wife. He’s done or said hurtful things, and I’ve done the same. The most recent event happened when my dad died a couple of years ago. He nor his wife reached out to me with condolences. I was hurt (again). But took it as a clear message. I told them so in a letter. I thought the situation was over, but recently an in-law re-opened the conversation. I’m over it. I wished we could all clear the air and move forward in the most positive way possible. And if not, then I’m happy to let it go, without further mention.
My family expecting me to continue to visit them. My mother’s side of the family lives in Michigan and Illinois. Every year, they meet at a central house in Chicago for Christmas. Every other year, for seventeen years, my husband and I have packed up the girls and Rascal and driven 1,000 miles there and 1,000 miles back to spend that holiday with that side of the family. It’s exhausting. It’s expensive. And it’s something Dwight and I decided we no longer wanted to do. We’re over it. I can tell extended family is unsettled about the decision. But spending time at my home, with my husband and daughters, around our tree was the most stress-free Christmas I’ve had in my adult life. I wished they could be okay with that and know they’re welcomed at my home any holiday.
Apologizing for past behavior because someone else chooses to live in the past. This one is a combination of the first two grievances. One of my cousin’s complaints was that I never visit her. She was right. So, I planned a visit. But during the entire time, she continued to complain about how I never visit or do anything for her. Huh? I’m here now. I’m visiting now. I’m literally in your space…right…now. You don’t get to say that anymore. Likewise, I’ve had criticisms about my brother-in-law and his wife and they’ve had some about me. However, in an effort to move forward, I’ve apologized, profusely and to no avail. They’ve never accepted an apology from me, and I’m not going to assume why. I don’t know. But what I refuse to do is live in the hurt of past situations with them or anyone else. I’m over it.
Do you have any reoccurring experiences with family or friends? How do you handle family situations or expectations? Is there anything you’re over but keep having to deal with?
On Sunday, November 30th, I received an invitation to a fête scheduled for December 3rd. I almost said, no because one of my rules is not to attend events where my invite seems to have been an afterthought. My friend, Dr. B. had planned this celebration months ago, but somehow my invitation was given less than seven days prior. Another reason I almost said, no is because it is in Gainesville, and I already commute twice a week. By the time a weekend rolls around, I’d rather spend my Saturday without hard commitments. The final reason I almost said, no is because I wasn’t sure I would know anyone there besides the host, and who likes going to an event where they don’t know more than one other person?
But, I said, yes for one reason only. The things I’d made up in my head were just that. Made up. I’m glad I ignored them. My friend’s party was one of the most authentic experiences I’ve had and it reinforced the following:
Just Be. The celebration’s theme was to be. Dr. B’s hope was to provide a space for 20 or so women to simply be. There were no husbands or significant others. There were no children, except hers and one of her friends. There were just women, be-ing themselves, eating a three-course meal with fine linen, and having conversation. Each of us being ourselves, in our own ways. Some women cried as they reflected on their connection to the host. Others revealed insecurities about their journeys, things that many women hold dear and hold in. You know. Body image, motherhood, perfection. Dr. B. had literally carved out a space for authenticity without judgment. Wouldn’t it be great if we each did that for one another every day?
Honor your friends. Because Dr. B. is a self-proclaimed introvert, she understood that most of her 20 friends wouldn’t want to stand up and introduce themselves, so she did it for them. However, this wasn’t just a “This is Kathy Garland” introduction. She individually described each and every person, including their personal connection and why she valued the woman. In addition, she’d recently learned letter writing, so each lady was given a handwritten letter with calligraphy-style address. Acknowledging others for how they’ve influenced your path is important. When is the last time you told the people in your life how much you value them?
Pay it forward. This isn’t a new concept to me, but it’s the first time I’ve heard how other people were affected. The room was filled with women who’d ridden that all too familiar “struggle bus.” They needed one another at some point in time. As a result, these women found themselves asking how they could ever repay their friends? The answer was simple: pay it forward. A lot of times we think we’re required to do some overt action to thank someone. But the ultimate act of gratitude is to help another person when she is in need, especially if you’ve been in her shoes. Is paying it forward a part of your life’s practice?
I’m glad I ignored my perception of the invitation, and my subsequent made-up social rules. That decision alone allowed me to be a part of something heartfelt and special.
