Princess F.L. Gooden's Blog

I have written several blog post in the last few weeks. You wouldn’t know though. I punk’d out. When it was time to share I hesitated because I was concern that the people reading it would feel some kind of way about my words.

Today as I write I don’t care. This is my life . This is my testimony. God has been and continues to be good to me. He allows things to happen in my life because he knows I don’t mind sharing. That is, when I’m not worried about anybody leaving me or cutting me off because of it.

Then I realized people will cut you off or leave you for just about anything. You don’t have to say words to be snatched up and dismissed. You can breathe hard and be placed in the trash.

One day you can be “God’s gift”, the next, “God’s punishment” to them. And all because you didn’t do what was expected or not expected. Shoot, I don’t know which.

Another thing I recognized is that not all people have access to the button that deactivates my joy. I normally don’t allow people that much control but like most humans I struggle with  wanting to be accepted and  loved “for me”.

I guess I could blame that on the “lack of” my biological father, the absence of a hard working single mother, and the jacked up relationships I had from the past, but I won’t. I’ve moved on and my regrets are tangled in the same web that holds “the stank attitude” that I use to walk around with. It clearly just wasn’t meant and I can’t and won’t cry about it. I was taught to be strong. So I should be able to deal with any and everything. NOT.

Anyway, let me get back to my point. Why do we concern ourselves with what someone “who is not perfect” thinks about what we say and do when we serve a God who loves us in sin, with flaws, making multiple mistakes, and regardless? Why do we chase after the love of people when God’s love is better? Why does it hurt so bad when we are rejected by people? We are always loved and accepted by God.

I have an answer… It may or may not pertain to you. But I get it as it pertains to me. We are human. We desire to love and be loved back. We need to share our hearts with people that make living this life better. We need hugs and kisses because they soothe the aches of the soul. We need for someone to come when we call. We just can’t want the love of man more than the love of God.

So I’m regrouping. I love my husband, children, family and friends, but I realize that my heart belongs to God. Through him I can love them. If I meet God’s expectations, he will cover me from the “sting” of not meeting all of theirs.

Lord, I long to see you one day. But not right now. I’m not ready. I’m trying to fix my life so you’ll be pleased and it seems the more I try I fail. I try to do right by the people you placed in my life and most of them aren’t happy with me. I work on me. I seek your face. I ask and accept your help. I apologize now more than I ever have in my life because I don’t mind being wrong as I long as I don’t lose the people that I love. I just want to be accepted. I want the good I do to be noticed, not just by you but the people I’m rendering it to. I know you are the only one I should be concerned with because you will be the judge, but I’m human. I need to feel acceptance. Not by everyone but the people that I love. Help me, O God. Have mercy on me. Hear my cry and give me peace. And if I am never accepted please give me the strength to continue this race. I don’t want to feel this way all of the time.

I need you now. I’m broken.

I am going to own up to some truths from my past. Some things that I got tired of trying to say because no one wanted to believe me. I am only going to say what is comfortable for me. I can’t worry about other people’s feelings right now. I’m sorry if you can’t deal with my truths. I let you sit on the front seat of my brain long enough. And to those of you that I did try to tell and you act like I was just making up stuff (only to cover yourself)- well I’m going to just let God deal with you at this point because I need to be freed of you too. I will apologize when I feel the need to.

I have never been in love with anyone but Reginald.

I didn’t start my healing process until after my first divorce. I wasn’t capable of loving anyone because I didn’t love myself. I lacked companionship and you filled a void. No one should be mad because they weren’t good relationships anyway. Half of y’all cheated. I thought if I did what my mama and Bigmama taught me (you know that catering stuff) I would feel like the woman I should. The problem was trying to feel when I should have been trying to be. Sorry I put such a burden on you. You didn’t have the right tools to fix me. Only God, and he is still working. While I am over you. I still have issues. The only reason you and I ended up together is because I was messed up. I ain’t blaming my biological father but he is the first man that I longed for. From there I thought I could fill in what I lacked. Desiring to be wanted because I thought it would feel the voids of him not wanting me. I ran into your arms and you didn’t even have your arms out. I was even open to pretending. Life won’t let you do that for long.

Sadly I kept picking the same kind of men. Each one having a piece of my father. I didn’t have sense enough to realize that I didn’t need anymore of what he was. I needed more of what he wasn’t.

All of these bad experiences, challenges, issues, and hurt squeezed out the little bit of love that I was able to share.

Even in high school. I remember thinking what’s the use of wasting time with love when you ain’t gone do nothing but get hurt. When you can’t have sex…they gone leave you. When you can’t hang out…they gone find someone that can. When you write a love letter…it ain’t gone have no meaning. When you cut them off and move on you get accused of being a “ho”. When you meet that someone, you’ll be in love for a year, married for 30+, and living in two different rooms waiting to see who leaves first. Most of the time death comes knocking. These were my thoughts because this is all I saw. There were very few people in my view that were truly enjoying one another.

I didn’t have no problems cutting you off because I never turned you on…

I just wanted to be the one picked but I never wanted to stay. I was already broken. So I guess it’s good you all saw nothing in me, and that you didn’t choose me.

At the time I didn’t see that it was good for me. I just saw rejection. Constant rejection. (That hurts when all you want to be is accepted.) But that is not your fault. Life taught me that I will get over it and be okay. I spent a lot of time praying and seeking God because I didn’t understand the two sides that I was dealing with. How could I care and not care? I didn’t want to spend my life afraid that no one would ever “love me true”, so I made bad choices. I had to pay for all of them.

I realize now that no one will ever love you more than God, and that you should be next in line. If any more love is to be given see it as a bonus. Always be honest with yourself and your mistakes. Accept that you can’t make someone give you something they don’t have for you.  Truth Heals Hurt.

I feel foolish sitting on this porch, claiming to write the truth today, knowing that I can’t say what I really want to say.

As soon as I sat down to write what was on my mind I started thinking  – “If you say that it will make such and such feel bad”, “If you mention that such and such will think you are still holding on to…”, “somebody is going to read this and take it the wrong way”.

At some point in life we all deal with this… Our truth is head back or in because of someone else’s feelings.

It would be nice to face truth and the things that hurt you and tell it whether people like it or not.

Then we get into “whose truth is truth”. Who would really know the truth? The person that was hurt or the person who did it? Is there always going to be a third person or others to tell the story so it won’t appear to be one sided?

No… so how do we get to the truth?

There’s this picture in my head that represents what my life should look like. What’s funny is everything is in place for it to be the way I see it. But some kind of way something happens and it goes blur. I am so use to rejection that I expect it. What’s funny is – I should be immune to it, being that I’ve spent so much time with it. It travels with me like luggage. Like a shirt that I must have or better yet a bra. Growing up I was told that I needed it in order to appreciate the things I have. My question is “How much of it is enough?”

Why is it constantly showing up on my door step threatening to take away anything that makes me feel special? Why is it playing peek-a-boo with my emotions? Why does it always arrive at my destination before acceptance does?

Am I asking for things that are too complicated? Have I not presented myself worthy of my request? Oh I know I’m not perfect, but who is? And even if I was I’ve learned the more I try to do right, the more it appears.

It comes as a flat out no sometimes. Then there’s the excuse version of it…

“You would have been or were, but….”.

“I love you but I can’t be with/ deal with you.”

“So I’m leaving” or “I’m staying but I don’t want to be bothered with you.”

“I forgot to call, text, send you the info…”

And others. Either way you get left out, dismissed, turned down, ignored, etc.

And it hurts!!!

I know God can do anything but fail. I understand that he allows certain things to happen. I get that I am going to help someone else go through what I have experience. I am not complaining. Just hurting. And. Wondering. Why so many closed doors? Why so much distance between my no and yes? Why am I limited to the bare minimal when it comes to an approval?

Just because I’ve learned to deal with it doesn’t mean I want to live with it.

So today, I took it to God, I’ll let you know his answer when he gives it to me.

One lie led to another, but neither of them led to a man. Now, after one dating disaster after another, this woman is fed up!

With the bare tips of my fingers, I lifted the red

thong from my husband’s suitcase, slowly, deliberately as

if it were a pit viper. My lips parted into a wide O as I

stared at the lace underwear, panties that I’d never seen

before.

It wasn’t like I was searching for trouble; in the

twenty-three years of my marriage to Sheldon, there had

never been anything close to drama in our relationship,

especially not this kind. The two of us were solid, the

kind of couple that Ashford and Simpson sang about back in

the day when as a teenager, I dreamed about the man who

would take my hand after my father walked me down the

aisle. That man had been Sheldon Hudson – and he’d kept

every single one of the vows we’d shared on our wedding

day.

At least that’s what I’d always thought.

I took a deep breath, just to make sure that I was

still alive.

Why am I still holding onto these? I wondered.

But even as I had that thought, I could not release

the death grip the tips of my fingers had on the panties.

In my mind, I imagined the woman who owned this strip of

material and I could almost see myself – twenty years

younger. I could hear myself – with a high-pitched tone

that belonged to someone who had not yet fully stepped into

womanhood. And worse – I could see Sheldon – grinning as

the tramp sauntered toward him wearing nothing more than

these five inches of silk and lace. And maybe a pair of

matching stilettos.

http://www.amazon.com/Touched-Angel-Victoria-Christopher-Murray-ebook/dp/B00Q3N8HVC/ref=zg_bs_6190459011_4