Daily Prompt: Truth or Dare?

Is it possible to be too honest, or is honesty always the best policy?

I believe honesty is always the best policy. Now on to the truth of the matter: WE ALL LIE! 


I show you these stairs, this handrail and the closed door as an example. Throughout my life I was in a “Oh, woe is me” mode. I felt that I couldn’t do this or that, because of that or this, or because this happened and not that. I lied to myself. I am realizing this lesson at the mid point of my life. Pointing fingers and shying away from the mistakes I’ve created as I bungled along, thinking I deserved better, therefore I will hurt others like I have been hurt, was my policy for a long time. At the time, I made those mistakes because it was the only thing I knew to do. I thought it was the right thing at that point in time. Yet, as I mentioned in a previous post, I Am Not My Hair, I declare “I am not your expectations and I am not my mistakes”. I look at this tattered, ill- taken care of landing and closed door as a visual of how I use to view my path in life. Walls are an illusion and so is the closed door.

Telling the truth all the time opens you up to being vulnerable. Owning up to your mistakes though is the best thing you can do; for yourself and others you care about. The truth hurts, but honesty is the best policy. Facing the fears of knowing I have messed up and owning my truth has hurt temporarily, but helped me immeasurably. Getting through each day is hard when you are still dealing with the mistakes of your past. I am slowly seeing that all barriers are illusions and my path is relatively clear. Everyday I strive to do my best. Even when I made mistakes I thought I was doing the right thing. It is easy to lie. It is hard to face the truth, even the ones that lie within. At the end of the day, truth wins out every time.




Expectations… I try so hard to lose them out of the proverbial bag of sorrow strapped to my back. I try to loosen this bag, empty this bag, one feeling at a time. Take it out and examine the reasons it is there.

Marriage = communication = acceptance

None of that really happened the way I expected it to. Especially the communication part. My Interpersonal communications professor once said in a lecture: The message communicated is in the power of the receiver. No matter how I communicated my message, he received them in a convoluted manner. Somehow I was viewed as intelligent but insane. A manipulator. I honestly didn’t see this in myself, yet knowing the blinds pulled on my Jahari Window, it is possible it was something I never saw but others did.

Marriage = monogamy unless both parties agree to keep the door open.

Marriage in retrospect is a union between 2 people ONLY. My mother and sister were right on this one. If we wanted to open the relationship door we should have never married. Still, had we never married, my son, my precious little man, would have not been born. The butterfly wings would have moved the wind in a different direction. Do I regret having relationships outside of our marriage that he initially agreed to? Yes and… no. I caused a lot of pain not by my decisions, but because of my ignorance in the manner of relationships.  I thought I did a good job in keeping my relationships outside of marriage separate. Many times he did not. Sometimes, so blinded by attachment to another, I refused to let the outside relationship go. At fifteen years of being married he asked me to leave and I left. He asked me to come back and I did, as a monogamous partner. I kept to this promise until the end. 

Straight versus Bi-sexual versus Lesbian

Straight = monogamy ( or not) to a man ( I am a woman)

Bi-sexual = love for both a man or woman, monogamous but often not

Lesbian = monogamy to a woman ( I am a woman)

Open marriage = multiple partners = affairs

This statement has been the hardest one for me to digest. My expectations in having both a husband and wife (singular) was that it closely resembled my bi-sexuality and sexual needs/desires/wants. One did not threaten the other, or at least I felt. As the receiver he saw this differently when his expectations were seldom met.

Divorce = A family separation; me separated from them

His family is one I adopted as my own. After establishing our open relationship, my mom and sister had nothing to do with me. My mother tried to keep a superficial relationship going, but I expected more and wanted more. My sister wanted to and succeeded to cut me and my family from her family’s existence. I never expected this. I fought hard to keep to my path, my desires, my true self and keep them, all 6 of them in my life, my children’s life. Until I came out to my sister about a relationship I had formed with a woman, we saw each other daily, her children and mine were very close. The fabric tear was so complete that the only way I can describe it was as if her family perished together in a horrific manner. I/ we lost them all suddenly and completely. Had I remained closeted, keeping my bi-sexual nature under the winter clothes, way in the back corner of the closet, perhaps I could have not made such a mess of things, both in my marriage and in my family relationships. The pain is so compounded and acute. 

I struggle not to sob from the pain Expectations, like jagged glass, have caused my soul, my being. 

Today I meet with my husband one last time as Husband and Wife. My dear friend said why didn’t you have the lawyer just mail him his copy? I need this tangible ending. I want to end it with physical evidence that I will always hold in my heart. I need to feel the raw emotions of saying goodbye to a 20 year relationship with this man to move on. It might mean that I also have to say goodbye to his family or at least move to let go of the expectations I hold, that nothing will change. His family = his family, not mine. I see them struggle to keep neutral and the pain it causes them. Change is constant and not always pain free. Still, if done right, it will not cause my foundation to falter. I will be strong and say goodbye, look toward the future with wonder and without the expectations that sometimes hinder my forward movement. I reside in God’s lap and there I am comforted. 





I don’t remember taking this picture. I kind of know where it was though.

I got a call from a dear friend this morning. She is coming for a visit. That is ok, I didn’t have much planned today anyway. I thought I’d make myself do a couple hours of school work. Instead by the time she called and said she would visit today it was 10:30am and I had only just finished watching a movie, did my rounds onto my social networking pages and was thinking about taking a bath. With the call and the fact that she could only stay for a few hours to drive the hour plus back home, I did what many people ( I think others would also do) might do, I tidied up the place and took a bath. I had been wanting her to make the 60 mile trip because she hasn’t yet seen the new place since I moved out. I was ‘giddy’ ~ I even think I said that to her~ that she was coming. Thing is, it is now 3pm. Her cell isn’t working and I am wondering if she decided to stay home after all and wondering if she is broken down between here and there. I’m not worried in a sense; she drove to NJ from Florida once with her six children and broke down in another state and made it through with the help of strangers that night. Still, it is the second day I am struggling with unmet expectations. I feel out of sorts since I basically came to a halt with the flow of my last day off work. Having three days off in a row has given me a sense of having a vacation, allowing me to relax in this place for the first time since moving out. I’m beating myself up mentally because I am comparing myself to the person I was in the not so distant past. That person would have stayed on task, doing what needed to be done. This new person going through so many transitions and has a case of “dragging her ass.” Sounds like an Indian name. 

I wrote to my aunt this morning before my friend called and told her how I missed those little, seemingly unimportant interactions with my family on a daily basis. I’m feeling like an unanchored boat adrift in the ocean. A needle in a haystack… you have the mental image. I’m not a part of a whole any longer and without a community; a church, a full-time job or even nosy neighbors i have years knowing on some level, I am finding that if I don’t force myself out of the house, I could easily become recluse and depressed beyond my state of adjusting to singledome. 

I named this post Wanderlust because I have the desire to just go from place to place only to receive some other human contact. I feel stuck here even though I love it, even though my landlords have been more than kind. She told me today, “We so hope you don’t leave anytime soon!” and he told me a few days ago, “We love having you there!” when telling me that his wife would be here this week to spring clean the upstairs.She even brought me some violets that she grows as a hobby, to have in the home. They want me to stay, hope I’ll stay and I’m forcing myself to make changes, and plan for things that I hope will transpire in the future. Hope for something different, and not to go stagnant by not planning to travel over the summer. 

I would have loved to have shared the day with my friend. It doesn’t look like she is coming after all though. I must transition again, resist the urge to get a bottle of wine, come back to an empty home and find my happy place while mending a part of me that is disappointed in all of the expectations I unconsciously set. I seemingly have had many that weren’t met as each night fell. I feel the weight of those unmet wants and needs heavily tonight. I work tomorrow and am off on Saturday; perhaps I’ll feel better after some interaction with co-workers and customers, so my next day off goes better. 

Definition for Loneliness: A relational deficient