Dad - part of the untold story

I don't really talk about my dad. In all honesty, I'll admit that I avoid thinking about him as much as possible. However, my tumulous relationship with him marginally defines my view of men, my fears and my own relationships.
My dad was never really there. For circumstances I can't quite explain, my parents were split for 9 years, which began when I was 1 & 1/2. They did, however manage to get back together when I was somewhere between 9 and 10, and thus my little brother, whom I'll nickname Chino, came to be.
After almost 7 years together again, my parents decided to move to the US from Dominican Republic. Much debate ensued from the idea, and finally, my mom moved to the US and my dad was left behind to finish up the process. Except it never quite finished.
Again, for circumstances I can't quite explain, my dad never made it to the US.
Instead, he found a mistress, whom happened to be a family friend whom we knew from church. Yes, there is ugly in this world, and I'll admit that my dad having such a richeous and do-gooder attitude and character bit him in the ass. This would also be the part where I mention that my grandfather, whom I love and adore, also had a mistress whom was my grandmother's niece. The real reason I mention this is because my dad, richeous do-gooder as aforementioned, was ruthlessly judgemental of my grandfather's affair; and then ended up having to choke on his own words.
Anyhow, my relationship with my father has always been tumultous, conflicting.
I was a free-spirited child. I was, by no means an angel. I was curious as hell, and sneaky too. I will however give myself some credit and say that I was on the good side of things. I was pretty much your average kid.

I don't mean to critize my dad in a negative light,  I understand that as parents, no-one hands you a guide book on how to discipline your kid and how to raise them to be honorable, well-rounded, disciplined individuals. I know in my heart of hearts that he had the very best intentions in mind and that he loves me.
But, as we say Amor no quita conocimiento (love does not take away knowledge). My dad was not the easiest person to get along with. He has such a rough personality, a rough character. He fails to understand the power of his words and his critique, both for positive and negative. In many ways, his harsh ways are part of the mold for my own character and also the demon behind my own insecurities.
In his effort to build a strong character in me, he has also left vestiges of fear and self-doubt that I constantly struggle with. I'll admit that, to this day, I constantly seek for my parent's approval in everything I do, out of fear and respect. This has also caused me alot of pain, and sacrifice, but I just don't feel right when my parents dissaprove of something I've decided to do. I feel hindered, like there are chains over my shoulder. I feel like there is a black cloud over my head wherever I go.
My main gripe about him has always been that he fails to realize that you catch more flies with a teaspoon of honey than a barrel of vinegar.... and quite the barrel he had.

He was a cadet, it was his dream to be an army man, but for medical reasons, he had to drop out. He was always very strict, organized and methodical from a young age, according to what my grandmother has told me. These strict views collided with my need for independence and liberty and space. During my high-school years, I was usually only allowed to go 3 places: Church, school, and my grandmother's house. Other than that, I had to be with either parent everywhere I went.... all the way through Senior year in highschool.
Yeah.... about that. This triggered me to learn how to climb out the balcony, over the roof, walk the wall between my house and my neighbor's and jump over the 15ft fence in my house. Yes, I did. This was my only way to see the world, even if it was only to catch a cab to my bestie's house to sit on her porch and talk bs with a group of people. To this day, I wonder if I really got away with it, or if he turned a blind eye on me and let me THINK I got away with it. I haven't made up my mind yet.

Nowadays, my dad is in Spain. From what I know, he has officially broken away from the mistress. Then again, we hardly ever talk, so what do I know, really?
During the years we lived together, my dad hardly acknowledged birthdays. He would usually wake me up earlier and express, in a very formal tone, that he wished that I had a good day, and I had the opportunity to have many more birthdays. I don't know bout y'all, but to my 11 year old self, this was rather puzzling and quite dissapointing.

This year, however, he managed to remember my birthday, early even. It's this Thursday, and he already called my mom and spoke to her because I was alseep yesterday.
He sent a present this year, all the way from Spain. He also sent a card.
Although many people see this as customary and unimpressive.... it means the world to me.
I'm literally in tears over it.
He sent the meaning of both my first and second name, in little framed boxes.
These have a personal meaning. In my grandmother's house, where I lived for part of my childhood, there were two sets, one for my grandmother, and one for my grandfather; and I would always look at these in awe, because of how simple and charming they were. I remember mentioning to my dad that I wanted a set of my own at some point. Now, I have my own.

The real reason I'm writing this post is for anyone out there with a kid. Anyone out there with a daughter, any dads that might happen to be reading this.
Know that, as a man, and as a father figure, you mold your child's personality and your actions impact very profoundly on their lives. Know that your lack of expression of affection will not go unnoticed in them, and will leave them craving for something only you have: true, uninterested love and aprooval.
Know that you are the stick to which they measure the men they will have their lives, and in your absence, the only other way they end up judging men is through facts, hearsay and trial & error.
So, if you happen to have a daughter, tell her she is the most beautiful child on this earth and make sure she knows you love her.

As for me, I've added my little frames to my wall. I promise to post a picture later on.

Night night y'all.

-Jezz

Dammit, I swear he sets me up! (>_<)

Well damn, where do I begin?
My last post on Jacob wannabe involved hanging out - and flirting- in front of the family.
Things have gotten, well, uhm.. interesting since.


After a minor panic attack and fleeing the scene like a bat outta hell, we did hang out and watch the Soloist, which was a great movie by the way (it's pretty good, but I supposed it's not as appealing if you don't have a passionate love for psychology and the human mind, considering the main character is schizophrenic). We ate some lunch, he got me Ben & Jerry's Chocolate Fudge Brownie without telling me, and saved it for when we watched the 2 hour premiere of House. Well Damn. How dare he go and mess with my head in such a flattering, caring manner?!

Anyhow, the day went great and we were both pretty damn happy. Hurray Hurrray :)

TGIF

I got flowers delivered today! :D

Half the office knew before I did... lol
My supervisor seemed to be thrilled with the fact that someone sent them, I'd say even a little amused; stopping by every few minutes and asking what he tried to make subtle questions about the matter...

anyhow, now they're sitting at my desk :) yay!
and they have brightened my day -despite other matters that came up-

I'm kinda sad that they'll be here by themselves tomorrow though... oh well.
Yes people, this is what my desk looks like, the daily view I get for 10 hours straight.
If you look to the top left, you can see me, all smiles, reflected on the mirror I have there.
on the bottom left, you can see my little monkey, with his cute little tie that reads "I go bananas for you", which was also a gift.
Please excuse my bottle of water in the pic- lol.
And the top frame, my pics, these are the real things, what keep me going not just everyday, but throughout life.

Anyhow folks, it's Friday night and I gots work to do.... so as usual,
catch y'all later punks :P

-Jezz

Love that cannot live but never dies

"You don't know what love is"- John Martyn
Enough Said.

The balancing act

SO I've come to see myself in a different light. (Yes I know I can be self-centered at time, wtfe)

After much debacle about me cutting my hair, and how much I've changed in the last 10 months... after hearing what everyone has to say and thinking of their opinions and how they affect mine.... after my conversation with H.a.S. last night about opinions, choices, priorities, consequences, failures, predicting the future and trying to overshadow the past, I've gain some perspective.

As individuals, we remain, ever changing, continually in evolution. By evolution, I don't mean the kind of changes that alter the biological makeup of our genetics, those take thousands of years of course. I mean, internally, emotionally we continually evolve, be it to better or worse versions of who we are.

That being said, I realize that, as insignificant as it may have seemed to me, I completely changed my values, my beliefs, my priorities, my choices and basically, what I defined as important to me when I cut my hair.
[[Leave it to me, to take something bane and trivial and turn it into the the apple that hit Newton in the head, causing me to discover the simplest of complexities about me. HA.]]

Having short hair made me change my focus. I saw it as an act of quiet rebelliousness. I didn't give 2 fucks about who said what and what I should've or could've done with it when I did it, or if I looked good or bad. I was tired of the stereotyping, the assumptions made about me, the other things that were overlooked about me. I was tired of the prejudice! I didn't care about anything else. I wanted to valued for who I was. I was speaking out, making the boldest statement I could: Beauty is not my main focus. It is only skin deep, and like most things in life, it will pass.

Days later it sunk in that, although I had made a point, there was more at stake for me that I initially accounted for. Turns out that all those assumptions and stereotypes we in fact quite close to the truth. They really were part of who I was.
Having long hair, I gave the impression of being quiet and reserved and shy; and although it was that way on the surface; I had self-confidence; a little fire in my heart that made me a toughened up cookie. I was strong. Fearless. I valued family above all else, I was committed to getting things right, doing things right.
When I cut my hair, I felt like I was a stranger to myself. I feel like I was standing in someone else's skin, being someone other than me. I was confused. I was lost.
Things happened. Life got in the way. I was in different circumstances, in situations I had never seen myself before, in things I could not have imagined. I made choices, I made changes.
Looking back at it, I see that although cutting my hair was meant to be an act of rebelliousness to prove my confidence in myself, to prove that I was strong and fearless, it back fired on me. It did the exact opposite. I became a mirror opposite of who and how I was. Maybe the circumstances I was involved in made it difficult for me, and made it easier for the changes to emerge; maybe they didn't. Who knows.

Fact remains that the confident, self-assured individual I was found itself MIA. I appeared to be strong and fearless at first, on the surface; but on the inside I was so insecure. I put my desires and chose instant gratification over the things I knew I should have been doing, over what once were my priorities. I put having fun and enjoying myself over being righteous and putting my responsibilities before my enjoyment. Live up now and deal with the consequences later.
I was so unsure of my choices I kept second-guessing myself. I knew something was off... but I was too caught up in my life, in everything, to take a cold hard look at the things I was denying. Denial and I are good old friends. We fit in right together. Deep inside, I felt like I was a cheap, mediocre, brittle version of the original Jessica. I felt and saw my life unraveling at the edges, I saw it crumble to pieces, and I didn't even know where to begin to put it back together.

More changes, more circumstances, more choices, more situations around me... and yes, my hair growing out. I seem to be finding elements and pieces of who and how I was and fitting it into who and how I am now. I'm trying to make a holistic version of me this time. A balanced act, not an ignorant fool who will follow blindly, but certainly not one who is oblivious of the consequences of her actions.
My hair is mid-length, slightly below my shoulders. My life is in somewhat of a harmonious balance. I feel empowered even if I am still quite fragile.
I'm still in the works... then again, aren't we all always in the works?
Someone should have told me life was this complicated mad long ago!

-ttys

Looong Weekend

I have to admit this weekend has been nothing short of surreal...
I am at a point where I feel like I stepped into the Twilight Zone (and after hearing soozi talk repeatedly about Twilight, who would'nt?!)
There is just SOOO MUCH TO SAY, I don't even know where to begin.
I also have a whole crazy lot of emotions going on around my head and my heart, which make things aot more difficult. I want to be honest and fair though, so I'll give myself some time to put things together and make my words cohesive and coherent...
but damn... so much in so little time!

Love

In peace, Love tunes the shepherd's reed;

In war, he mounts the warrior's steed;

In halls, in gay attire is seen;

In hamlets, dances on the green.

Love rules the court, the camp, the grove,

And men below and saints above;

For love is heaven, and heaven is love.

~ Sir Walter Scott (1771-1832)

Letting go of Me

oh goodness my dear turtle... the things you do to me!

After reading your last blog post, I have finally, finally, finally found the words that will explain the mystery of me. I have come across the missing piece you had strived for incesantly.

Let me explain (and for the record, there is a 25¢ fee for my thoughts!).

I want to hand you my heart. Completly. And I haven't been able to explain why I haven't done it yet.

See, here is the thing.... My mind is at peace with you...
...but only because my heart has a little tiny corner, the piece of me that is critical for survival, and it's guarded within; in a watchtower with gates and barbed wire and snippers all around.

I've kept this little corner for myself... because I know the power that lies inside it. It contains what little innocence I have left in me; the child we all carry inside that never grows; the part of us that will naively believe anything that is told to us, the part of us that will hope against all odds and that still believes in magic.

You see, that little piece of me is what I had given him freely, innocently, while I was oblivously in love.
After all was said & done in the story of him and I... I learned my lesson.
I can still say that I can love freely, and that I trust you completly....
... but I don't do it blindly; like I once did.

THAT is the reason I don't fear much, that I can trust you so easily, that I understand how you feel, and why you ask me so much: I was there, and I built my defenses against falling there again.

There is that small corner, that little piece of my heart that keeps me together, keeps me sane.
It's almost like I'm not putting my whole <3 in your basket, so to speak.
I'm not saying I don't trust you nor that I don't see a future in out relationship: I do, and I do.
It's just that I've learned that this little magical piece of me is what keeps me from falling apart when times get rough and things go sour.

It's what makes me, the trooper I am.

And I know that in giving it to you, in relinquishing that power, I put myself, absolutly, completly, entirely in your hands.

You've learned by now that I'm a pretty private person. It's not that I'm trying to hide anything, it's more along the lines of me enjoying the quietude of privacy, the joy of not being exposed...
But I love the way you find all the layers of me, and peel them off one by one, slowly, steadily.
I love how you endlessly try to figure out this insane mind of mine.
I love how you crave to know me, all of me: my thoughts, my habits, my mind, my routines, my heart.

And I want to give my heart to you. I feel like I am ready to trust you with it (still; take me one step at a time though!) I feel like I can open my hand and place my heart in yours. I have known I could since the very begining, since the wonderful days of wishy-washy (lol) ... but I'm comfortable with it now. I'm capable of letting go calmly, without that fear, without feeling like a deer in headlights, without being terrified about my desicion. I feel like I'm ready to let go of me; completly.

I hope that seeing all the shades of me, every side, every quirk doesn't overwhelm you; that knowing about all the mushyness housed inside me isn't going to send you into a panic; that realizing the concentration of feelings in that little piece of me won't send you away, because that would ultimatly prove why I kept it to myself in the first place.

I hope you handle it, cause it's coming for you.

I'm giving you my heart, and not only just a piece...

<3