Growing Apart

Sailboat

It’s interesting how backsliding works. One day your seeking Jesus’s face; the next day you’re out in the middle of the ocean. You don’t know how long you’ve been out there; you haven’t even noticed that Jesus isn’t within view anymore. It just happens to be that you catch yourself staring out at nothing, wondering how long you’ve been out of touch with God.

You start asking yourself how much time has passed since you were last with Jesus. Has it been a day, a week—two or three months?

I would say it’s been months, and yet somehow, I think it’s been longer than that.

At least, that’s what it feels like.

I saw all the signs, but it didn’t become real for me until I read the verse Psalm 40:8,

“I delight to do thy will, O my God: yea, thy law is within my heart.” (Ps. 40:8 KJV)

As the Lord had me meditate on the verse, I began to see that my passion for God had dwindled, if not died. I recall a time when I used to be excited to write poems for Him. I had a bad habit of waiting until the last minute to do the newsletters, but I gave it everything I had. I pushed myself to get the latest issue out even if that meant having to release it late because I missed the date.

I remember having a desire to read and study His Word—a need to study His Word. I can think on those mornings when I started making point to begin my day with prayer. Or when I took my ministry seriously and the assignments the Lord charged me with.

Then somewhere along the way the poems became fewer and fewer. I studied and read less and less. Other things became more important to me; other things were more interesting to me.

And eventually Christ became irrelevant altogether.

Going to church and listening to the message was the highlight of my week. Now they seemed to be dragging. Bible study was a must until it became a monotonous routine that didn’t seem to hold my attention. I struggled to take notes for both Sunday and Wednesday nights.

Even now I recognize that I’m under attack, but I haven’t grasped it because it doesn’t feel like I’m under attack, “I mean, I’m not really suffering; I feel fine…so…”

But that’s one of the devil’s best tricks, isn’t it? The power of deception and making you feel like everything is okay when it’s really not. The house isn’t burning down, so you’re good. Meanwhile the largest hurricane is on its way towards you and you aren’t aware because you’ve been lulled to sleep.

It’s time for me to wake up now. Time to wake up and get back into the fight again.

I need to rediscover my joy for God, to reset and focus back on my purpose, my calling, my ministry.

I need to get back to what’s important. Right now, that is God and my relationship with Him.

If you are in a place right now where serving Jesus seems more like a chore or seeking righteousness genuinely makes you roll your eyes, consider the scripture and what it says. Be honest with yourself—where are you really spiritually? Are you still in love with God?

Or have you found yourself pushing Him away?

couple-standing-far-apart.jpg

Taboo

Woman-Hand Over Mouth

Photo source: Google Images

This being brave thing is harder than I thought…

(Before I go any further) What I’m going to talk about might be a bit much for some people, so if you’re one of those who gets grossed out easily then you’ve been warned. Don’t worry, I’m not going to post up any photos…that’s a little too personal for me.

Now then…

I’ve been inspired to start another blog focused on women’s health after my latest ordeal: an incessant yeast infection that shows up every month since around late last year.

(Some of you might be wondering, “And what does this have to do with Jesus?” Hold your horses. I’m going to get to that; just let me open up about this first.)

Studies show that 3 out of 4 women will have a yeast infection, and it’s relatively normal to have 3 or 4 a year. The first time I had a yeast infection was my sophomore year in college. It was bad, but no biggie. I took over the counter medicine for it and went about my way. Although later on in my life the infections became more persistent. One year I remember it got so bad I couldn’t sit or walk normally. I couldn’t sleep due to all the discomfort. Eventually I had to see a doctor and was prescribed some very strong antibiotics (I can’t tell you the name; I couldn’t pronounce them even if I tried.)

It seems as though I’ve found myself back there again, seeing as how terrible it’s gotten and the over-the-counter medicine isn’t working (I’m schedule to see a doctor next week.) It has pushed me to read up on yeast infections. I came across some very startling things: one being that diabetes could be a reason for why I’ve had so many between last year and this one.

I’m afraid.

I keep telling myself to think positively, but the one thing that keeps echoing in my head is, “Even if the doctor gives you a bad report, do you will still trust God to be God? Do you still believe that God is able?”

While researching I wondered why women tend to be so hush-hush on these things, “Shouldn’t we talk more about these kinds of things?” Then I read an article of a woman’s struggle with bacterial vaginosis (an aggressive form of a yeast infection.) In her case, she seemed to keep getting it from her sex partners. At that moment I thought to myself, “She’s nasty…really, really nasty!”

Woman-Stink Face

Photo source: Google Images

Then it dawned on me why a lot of women don’t open up. No one wants to be seen that way and the fact that she was honest about her order was very courageous. It wasn’t as if she had multiple partners—and let’s be clear. In NO WAY do I encourage premarital sex. PLEASE WAIT FOR MARRIAGE—but BV (bacterial vaginosis for short) isn’t an STD or STI. Women can get it from any of the following:

  • High sugar, carb intake
  • Sexual intercourse
  • Clothing (skinny jeans, unbreathable underwear, wet gym clothes or bathing suit, etc.)
  • Low pH levels (possibly from stress or menopause)
  • Use of body sprays, scented soaps or fragranced/perfumed products on the genital area
  • Low immune system
  • Diabetes

Allergies or an allergic reaction to something can also be a factor. What’s worse is that BV can end up becoming a chronic illness, therefore a change in diet may be necessary. So for me to react the way I did was me being judgmental of her.

I think about the woman with the issue of blood. How many people do you think looked at her as though she was something disgusting? Back in those days, the law said she couldn’t get near anyone—no one was allowed to touch her because she was considered unclean.

She didn’t let that stop her from seeking her healing from Christ though…

Truth is a lot of us are very ignorant when it comes to women’s health, myself included. We could learn to be more understanding and take the time to educate ourselves on this stuff, women especially should. Why be ashamed to share or talk about it? I’m sure there are plenty who might disagree with me and suggest I keep these things to myself.

But I think about women all over the world dealing with this stuff in silence, and I said to myself yesterday, “I’ll do it. I’ll speak up, and if they’re too scared to, I’ll be a shield for them. I’ll gladly take on the criticisms and vile comments if it means it’ll help bring more women together to discuss with one another.”

As I said before, being brave is harder than I thought.

Yet somehow, deep down inside, something tells me it’s more ungodly to shun women for sharing their health stories than it is to write about it. I think it’s more ungodly to encourage women to be quiet and deal with it alone, quarantining them into isolation, than it is to say, “Hey, you’re not alone. I’m battling this crap, too. It sucks, but we’re in this together!” Long as Christ is for us, it doesn’t matter what people say or think; there is no condemnation in Christ Jesus.

Going back to that woman with the issue of blood, she wasn’t worried about the whispers or the looks she would get. All she thought was, “If I can just touch the hem of His garment…” She reached out in faith knowing that God was going to heal her.

What’s so beautiful about it is that not one time was Jesus offended by the woman’s condition. He recognized her faith, He blessed her—Jesus LOVED her anyway.

Regardless of what your condition is, whatever report the doctors have given you, do you believe that God is? Know and understand He’s not going to judge you; He loves you and He’s more than capable of giving you the healing you need. Continue trusting in Jesus.

Woman Group On Blue

Photo source: Google Images

BOOK UPDATE: To Whom It May Concern

Big news folks! To Whom It May Concern is now available for purchase as a PAPERBACK book. So for those of you who’ve wanted a physical copy instead of the digital, you can buy it here:

To Whom It May Concern (PAPERBACK)

TWMC_Front Cover(resized)

The paperback is 600 pages and costs $25, but I’m giving a 20% discount for two weeks from APRIL 13, 2017 TO APRIL 27, 2017. After that it will go back to regular price. You can still buy the digital copy (PDF, 587 pages) for $15 directly from me. Just click the link down below:

To Whom It May Concern

To Whom It May Concern (DIGITAL, PDF)

Fantasy VS Reality: Part IV (FINAL)

poison_apple_by_cuteemo6923

Photo source: Google Images

Why can’t you grasp it?
I kept asking myself this
You know it’s poison
Slowly killing you from the inside
Out
Like buying the sweetest candy
Known in the world
Hard, crunchy shell
Soft, delicate center

Its glimmer makes every mouth
—water
Its shimmer so appetizing
You feel compelled to take a bite
And you bite
Only to discover it’s rotten
Down to the core
But still,
You continue to eat it
You keep buying that garbage
Even though you know
The result is you reeling in sickness
Head stuck in the toilet
As you upchuck every bit of that bag
Of false delights you wasted time,
Money
And energy on…
You know this
And yet
You still keep doing this
So
Why?
Why do you keep doing it
If you know it’s only going to make you
Sick?
Yeah,
I keep asking myself this
Why do I continue to buy into the lie
When I know it’s only going to result
In heartbreak, heartache
And more and more grief
Why, oh why, O’Lord
Do I keep doing this
To me?

I remember sitting down one night and I began writing to God. I wanted to better understand why it was I kept falling victim to romanticism. Why did I continuously catch myself up in a snare when I knew the result would mean disaster? I knew ahead of time that runaway fantasy would never come true, but I continued to by into the lie anyway. I went through an episode of this about a week or two ago. I began to grow fond of one of my language partners; it was so nice talking to him everyday, and eventually I started entertaining the thought of “what if.” It didn’t take long before I got ahead of myself (for the infinite time) and had thoughts of us as a couple…until I found out he had a longtime girlfriend.

This is constantly happening to me
I wind up breaking my own heart
For putting all my hopes and desires
Into something
That is non-existent
Like taking all your precious
Treasures and riches
And throwing them straight into the
—abyss
A black hole that devours it
Void of any emotion or sympathy
You can’t even say it enjoys it
Because it’s just simply doing
What a black hole does

—Snippet from “Dark and Twisted Nature”
by Jacqueline S. Sadberry

I was hurt like I had been in times before, but this time was somewhat different. I was extremely angry and bitter, too. I felt myself spiraling into a dark place, thinking, “I just want to be happy…why do I have to go through this crap again? How do I always manage to do this to myself? Why? At this rate I’m always going to be alone! I don’t get it—not again, not again…” After getting everything off my chest, the Lord told me I’m addicted to the fantasy because “everything is perfect. You’re complete. Real life isn’t like that; it’s messy…”

Sometimes the truth is hard to swallow, and ultimately, we don’t want to believe it. We just can’t accept it for what it is so we continue to wallow around in denial. We keep eating that poisonous waste disguised as something delicious. “This time will be different.” “That happened with the last, but this one is sure to work!” “I know I’ll find love this time around. Just wait and see.”

Even when the truth is right there in front of us, and Jesus reveals the devil’s deceptive tactics—detailing every move—we fall for the trap again and again.

cold_medicineFlickrellie

Photo source: Google Images

I wish I could say that I’ve conquered my battle with romanticism, but I can’t. Right now I wrestle with embracing the truth; God’s Truth.

I have moments of clarity from time to time, “God’s love doesn’t hurt like this.” “The love of God will never deceive you.” “There has to be more to life than fairytales gone bad.” As of late, I realize that I can’t reach the root of the issue for walking in circles around it. Part of that is because I want to know, and then again, I don’t. I’m sure if I can handle it… Somehow I sense once Jesus reveals it to me, it’s going to send me flying.

But I know that I desperately need to end this. This isn’t something I want to take into a marriage…

I can’t un-see
What I’ve already seen
He made his choice
He made it well
I must now go back to waiting
For someone to make that choice
For me

I want to be the one a man chooses
Not out of convenience
Or because it felt right at the time
Or because we’re both two single,
—good-looking people
With nothing else to do
But because
He actually fell in love with me
When he looked at me
He saw me right away right as his wife
And he somehow knew
That I would be

I will be
Someday
I will, you know?

—Snippet from “Dark and Twisted Nature”
by Jacqueline S. Sadberry

Over the time I’ve been writing this series, I’ve come to see this isn’t something that will affect me and my future husband. My friendships and relationships with my family have been affected to a certain degree, too. It takes; it has taken away so much from the people in my life who deserve more from me. This self quest for self-gratification has damaged me in more ways than one. Therefore it’s highly important that I do something about it TODAY, rather than bury myself in the façade once more.

I may not be completely delivered of this—I honestly didn’t expect this series to go in the direction it did—but I’m glad that I finally listened to the Lord and wrote it. It’s helping me to come to terms with what’s going on with me. I’m not in denial about it anymore.

Time to stop walking in circles and looks towards gaining a healthy future, both naturally and spiritually.

road-into-sun-rs

Photo source: Google Images

Fantasy VS Reality: Part III

ye-ole-lock-and-chain-fraida-gutovich

“Ye Olde Lock and Chain” by Fraida Gutovich

If you’ve been keeping up with the series (Part I, Part II) then you know it’s been getting increasingly more intense. This one is no different.

Needless to say, it becomes harder and harder for me to continue this so I earnestly ask that you pray with me for courage to face the things I’ve been avoiding. To remember that this is all bigger than me. When people need a word, I don’t have time to waste on waiting until I feel ready to go forward. That’s not right and we shouldn’t do that.

I wrote a poem today, and in a way it sums up how I feel right about now, but I’ll share it later.

Remember what I said last time about still born children?

Eventually we all have a day when the fantasy comes to an end. It begins to crumble piece by piece, and while the high you’re on is amazing, once it comes crashing down it’s the worst experience of your life. No matter how great those fluttery, passionate waves of desire felt, they were unimaginable to the blows I received when the mirage vanished.

 

So what happens when you come down from the high?

Pain is right there with its arms outstretched to greet you. They are metal, sharp and pointy blades that slice you up into several pieces. Sometimes you’re chopped, other days you’re minced, and on rare occasions you get sliced so fine you almost like like a whole person from a distance…

Almost.

Before the pain catches you, however, your thoughts begin to drift in the fall. I have constantly and consistently wonder every time: Why do I always do this to myself? Why do I always have to make myself feel like this?

And for a split second, reason comes to mind. The Holy Spirit speaks to me through this reason and helps to rationalize things, “Jacqueline, this was never real anyway. It wasn’t meant to turn out the way you hoped for because this was not meant for you. It was never meant for you. There is someone else better in store for you—just wait,” but once I hit those blades at full speed all those dark thoughts come creeping back, “You’re going to always be alone. Did you really think this time was going to be any different? You’re so pathetic. There’s no one out there for you.”

Shattered Heart

Since there’s no solid foundation I accept all that nonsense. Truthfully I am impatient and impatience leads to disobedience. Disobedience lands me in a world of trouble and I end up hurting myself. When Jesus is not what you’re standing on, and you are tormented by the agony you feel, you go right back to what got you there in the first place.

“Oh well—he has a girlfriend. Time to find a new guy to pine over.”
“Dag, that didn’t work out the way I planned. Back to my celebrity crushes.”
“Hmm…maybe I’ll stick to thinking about my dream guy then…”

As I’ve stated before, romanticism is a pacifier. It’s used to distract you from the fact that you’re slowly dying inside, that you need healing and Jesus Christ is the only one who can give it to you. All you know is that the pain is unbearable and you want it to stop. All those sweet thoughts and fantasies become idols—it all causes you to ignore what’s going on inside. You ignore the fact that you are hurt, angry, confused, shattered.

I’ve come to the conclusion that I haven’t fully received the report. I’ve heard for a long time now that Jesus is better than any arousal I get from lustful thoughts, what I sought after when I masturbated. He’s better than what they sell on TV and in film about sex, better than any man will ever be to me. Jesus is better—I’ve heard this more times than I can count, but I don’t believe it because I have yet to fully experience that for myself. I experienced His goodness in the midst of depression, in the midst of my fits of rage that skirted on the edge of violence. I know how good He is when I’m sad, when I’m dealing with the loss of a loved one. What I have failed to experience is His goodness and how infinitely great He is in the parts of my love life, in my singleness.

Though even now I think I’m beginning to catch a glimpse of it. While I have fallen off into those blades again, the Lord reminds me of His grace.

I fell down earlier this week, and I told myself today what I said then, “Not again…not again…not again.”

But for the first time in a long time I’m finally embracing my wounds. I’m acknowledging the hurt. I still wrestle with confronting the issue and going back to pretending like everything’s fine, but still I’m learning to embrace it.

Slowly, but surely, I am finally positioning myself to let Jesus heal me.

Surgical Tools

Photo source: Google Images

Fantasy VS Reality: Part II

FANTASY VS REALITY: PART II—FACING DRAGONS

tunnel_light_painting_fantasy_dark_cave_abstract_landscapes_1920x1200

Painting done by: BelleDeese

Approaching this topic makes me brings a certain image to mind: I’m walking on a dirt trail. It’s a bright and sunny day with fluffy, white clouds in the brilliant blue sky. Then suddenly the trail dead-ends into a cave that is pitch black and looks ominous.

I don’t want to go inside, but in order to get to my destination I HAVE to pass through.

Facing yourself and dealing with your inner demons can be one of the scariest things for you to do, but it is necessary in order for you to move forward.

And so, the adventure begins…

I’ve tossed this around in my head, you know, “When exactly did this all start? Was it when I was exposed to sex too young from watching R rated movies? Was it the music I used to listen to growing up? Where there certain kids that just rubbed off?” What, when, where, how, why—those are things I could spend my whole life trying to figure out. Going back to Part I of this series, romanticism is a subset of loneliness. It’s a device that Satan uses as a pacifier to temporarily distract you from how lonely you feel while simultaneously tainting you: your thoughts, the way you view things, your values and morality. It distorts truth until the lie (romanticism) becomes a truth for you. The devil even lets us customize it so that it suits what we think true romance, love, passion and intimacy are.

My loneliness…my loneliness was birthed from Satan himself. It is something I don’t want to touch because truthfully even now it hurts. I have never had a child, but I would equate loneliness to carrying a child inside of you for nine months. All the screenings come back clear, doctor visits are giving a great outlook—seems like you’re going to have a health, beautiful baby—only to give birth to a baby that had been stillborn the entire pregnancy.

And somewhere, deep down inside, you wonder, “What went wrong? What did I do? I don’t understand how this could happen—everything was FINE!” It leaves you with a bitter sting; tears seem to permanently stain your face even when you’re smiling because people can see you’re not okay, regardless of how much you say you are.

From my father who wasn’t present in my life as much as I wanted him to be, to so-called friends who used me and deserted me, to boys that overlooked me because I didn’t look as pretty nor was willing to sleep around…I always felt discarded somehow. I recall always feeling like an outsider even around family members. I can remember those times I felt like a ghost, especially during my time in college, “No one hears me, no sees me, no cares.” All these things cemented what the enemy had been whispering in my ear for a very long time: You’re nothing. You’re worthless. No one loves you. No one wants you. You’re trash, you’re ugly and you’ll always be alone.

Certain things are catalysts; they set the stage for what becomes a stronghold in your life. Something led you to do what you do; something led you to go where you are now. No one just wakes up one day and says, “You know what? I think from now on I’m just going to feel lonely so much that it makes me hate everything about me. I’m not going to trust people when they befriend me or say they care about me because I’ll feel so worthless and irrelevant that I’ll think they’re all lying. I will let loneliness consume and completely destroy my life.”

No, that’s not how it works.

Lucifer is very crafty; he searches for weaknesses and openings until he can find the tiniest sliver of cracks. He carefully and steadily works his way in, and finally, you wake up holding death wrapped in a blanket. One after another, after another, after another…

What I didn’t know then was that it was me, but it wasn’t me.

I made the choice to masturbate. I chose to indulge in lust. I entertained thoughts of perversion. I’ve never watched pornography, but I watched sexually explicit films and shows with graphic sexual content. I made the decision to read books with vulgar depictions in them. I even recall searching for pornographic images once when I was in my teens—I didn’t anything out of it though; the images I created in my mind were way more exhilarating.

So yes, it was me but the reason for why the loneliness was there wasn’t because of me. It wasn’t that I was a mistake, or that I was undesirable or unlovable. It was because the enemy has a job to do and his goal is to kill us. I sought out those things because I thought they were what I needed to fix the problem. I thank God that it didn’t get as far as having multiple sexual partners (looking back, I think I was in danger of heading down that road.) I’m still a virgin, but my purity has been damaged. Spiritually I have damaged myself because I failed to realize then what I haven’t quite grasped still today:

God is all I need.

I have a relationship with Christ, but it hasn’t become personal to me, not yet. It’s what makes the difference between an acquaintance and a very close friend. I have many acquaintances, some of whom I call friend, but I don’t have very many close friends. A close friend is someone you has seen parts of your ugliness. They’ve seen what a horrid mess you can be at times and still love you despite it.

Jesus wants to be even closer than that to me.

The thought of this frightens me so terribly, that even at this instant, I can feel the anxiety rising. I know that He already knows everything about me—He created me. I’m aware that Jesus loves me anyway and He accepts me, yet it’s still overwhelming. I know can’t hid anything from the One who knows all, hears all and sees all but I still find myself trying to do so. Makes you wonder why, doesn’t it? Why do we do that?

Truthfully, I think we aren’t ready to see ourselves for who we truly are.

Broken Mirror

Photo source: Google Images

That’s why when every time the moment comes for us to walk through that cave full of monsters inside it we turn back down the trail. When the season approaches for us to actually walk through our own “valley of the shadow of death” we come to a halt, reconsider and back away.

I’m beginning to see that God is literally right there. I don’t even have to go far to meet Him because He’ll come to me. All I have to walk towards Jesus and He’ll be right there to swoop in and embrace me. I just don’t like having to deal with those hideous truths I’ll have to walk past while they stare me down. I don’t enjoy the thought of having to fight the same fire breathing horntail I’ve been feeding all these years because I’m not sure if I can beat it…

…or if I even want to.

So, like many of us have done, I choose to run. I neglect to consider however that every time I do that, the trail doesn’t recalculate itself to a more comfortable route for us to get to Jesus. It remains the same. We drift further and further from Christ and head straight to Satan, gladly accepting those chains and shackles.

Because we’d rather allow the devil to be our master and wither in bondage than to accept the truth for what it really it is.

Fantasy VS Reality: Part I

FANTASY VS REALITY: PART I — THE DANGERS OF ROMANTICISM

infatuation

Photo source: Google Images

Who knows why I chose to keep pushing this off for an insanely long time. Perhaps because I still wrestle with this a lot, even being as old as I am.

And I also suppose it’s because most of the time I like writing pieces about things I’ve overcome rather than things that are current stumbling blocks.

Although, isn’t that the point of being an effective witness?

It shouldn’t always be about looking picture perfect or being spot on, but helping those struggling to know that you have your shortcomings too. It’s a necessary reminder that even the best of us need Jesus.

Frankly, If we’re being honest here, even among the best of us, no one is truly the best. We’re all broken people being rebuilt by the Savior and each of us is doing the best we can to get better.

So I shouldn’t be ashamed of that. I’m just simply doing my best and that’s what counts.

And truthfully I haven’t been myself lately…mostly because of this thing I’m going to talk about:

Romanticism.

What does it stem from? Where does it come from? What does it evolve itself out of?

The simple answer is loneliness, but for some of us it isn’t quite that simple is it.

There’s nothing like going through life thinking you’re the most content you’ve ever been until certain things come and tamper with that belief. I blamed being around people complaining of being single and desperately wanting to be in a relationship as the cause. I pointed the finger at my recent obsession with K-Pop music (both of which did play a small part, but ultimately were not the true factors for what I am about to share with you.)

You see, it’s easy to make romance songs, movies and books the scapegoats. “Man, I need to stop (reading/listening to/watching) this stuff! I was fine until I started entertaining all that!” Perhaps you are right. All the things mentioned, including those things listed above, can be triggers for loneliness.

But were you actually fine? Were you really okay or did it take those things to expose what was already there?

magnifying-glass

Photo source: Google Images

These are things I’ve had to ask myself recently.

Romanticism in of itself seems straightforward, but in actuality, it’s more complex than you think. As it is defined, romanticism is described as something that borders on imagination. An idea that is impractical or unrealistic, and eventually, becomes belief. In a way this is true, but I think it’s even more than that. Romanticism not only can cause you to lose touch with reality, but it can also cause you to objectify people. It has you lust over traits and characteristics that you either attach or associate with that person while simultaneously stereotyping them. Romanticism can be quite disrespectful when you think about it because once the thrill gets cold it moves on to the next well of desire. Then once that well dries up, it moves on again, and again, and it never takes the person into consideration.

In some ways, I think there are some of us who have not only been victims but have created a body count of our own through romanticism…

Still, we have something like romance right? Romance between two people—scratch that—two MARRIED people isn’t a bad thing, is it?

I would say (going off of what I’ve heard from married folks in healthy, strong marriages) that romance without God in the picture is nothing more than lust. It’s fickle. If the romance is birthed from false pretenses and/or does not have Jesus Christ as the foundation then it’s an infatuation and a relationship that will soon be short-lived. Romance is nice, it lights the fire, but it takes Jesus, work and love to keep it going (and to get it going again when it’s burned out.)

We all know where lust leads us…but back to my point.

I remember all those times I fell into a whirlwind of, “Oh my goodness…(sigh)…If I could have a guy just like that…” every time I saw my celebrity crush in some film, saw his music video, etc. I recall watching Stomp the Yard and desiring a man who was a mixture of Brian White and Columbus Short. He’d be black, in a BGLO (Black Greek Letter Organization), and attending an HBCU.

Do you know how many Black men fit into that category?

LOTS people, LOTS.

And when I ran into a guy who happened to fit into this makeshift, spellbound wishlist, red flags were sure to follow. Here’s how it would usually go down:

Holy Spirit: He doesn’t believe in Jesus. He doesn’t believe in commitment. He’s got a different girl almost everyday of the week
ME: “…eh—I think I can make it work. He just seems like such a CATCH you know?”

To be clear, there are PLENTY of Black men who DO believe in Jesus, commitment and aren’t playing the field. I kept missing them though because that what Satan does. Through romanticism, he leads you to what you EXACTLY wanted for yourself. You miss out on the good ones with flaws but are great and decent men because they don’t fit into the stereotype of what you think he’s supposed to be.

nice-guys-finish-last

Photo source: Google Images

Yeah…I could go on about that for days…

Flash forward to today.

Somewhere down the road, I started doing the same thing with Asian men. I’ve done it with every man in every race, each having their own separate category of unrealistic expectations and—as I’ve said before—”romantic” stereotypes, but Asian men specifically have become the new well. The more I think about it though, junior high is possibly the earliest time this fantasy began. Where I live we didn’t have a lot of Asian guys around, so to come across one was like witnessing an amazing sight (for me, at least.) “Oh my goodness—he’s Asian! And he LIVES here?! He kinda cute too…” I think the only reason my first crush was Asian (still to this day we don’t know his exact ethnicity because he didn’t either) was simply because he was something different from the usual. “What would it be like to date an Asian guy? Oh the possible possibilities!”

And now that I take all that into consideration, I think it’s partially been my motivation for learning Japanese…

GEEZE—I can see why I didn’t want to talk about this now! It’s humiliating to admit this kind of stuff…!

I thought it was rude for someone to say they “loved” Asian guys but didn’t know anything about the culture or had any real respect for it. They just were basing it solely off of dramas and music songs from that culture. Taking a hard look at myself I’m really no different. If it weren’t for studying the Japanese language and learning about the culture, and reading my issues of the Inheritance magazine (which talks about Christ and Asian/Asian Americans and their testimonies, experiences) I still wouldn’t know much about Asian culture.

It’s contradictory, because as an African American woman, I hate when we are objectified. I hate the idea of a man solely approaching me because of my race—not my personality, not because of my character, not even because we share similar interests—but ONLY because I’m Black. He sees me as an opportunity to go exploring and see “what all the fuss is about.” I hate when that when it comes to romance and dating, there are all these superficial, stereotypical and degrading things associated with women like me. In fact I’m angered by it because I’m not a person anymore; I’m a conquest and he became interested because he was bored, I guess…

womans-silhouette

Photo source: 68.media.tumblr.com

However that is the same level of disrespect I have shown to my ALL my brothers, not just Asian. Regardless of what race he is or what he looks like, he’s still a person. At the end of the day, he’s a man and a human being like me. I need to recognize that; to treat him or view him as anything less is a disservice and a slap in the face of all men.

What I’m beginning to realize is that my issue was never with watching too many YouTube videos, or listening to too many K-Pop songs, or entertaining too many “someday my prince will come” conversations.

The real problem is, and has always been, that I became entranced by a warped idea of what I think love looks like and what it’s supposed to be.

And rather than addressing the problem, I chose to bury it instead.

Well, I can’t bury it anymore.

It’s grown too big and I’ve run out of dirt.

To be continued…