Just a small town girl ...

Valentine's Day or Saint Valentine's Day is an occasion celebrated on February 14th by many people throughout the world. In the West, it is the traditional day on which lovers express their love for each other by sending Valentine's cards, presenting flowers, or offering confectionery. The holiday is named after two among the numerous Early Christian martyrs named Valentine. The day became associated with romantic love in the circle of Geoffrey Chaucer in the High Middle Ages, when the tradition of courtly love flourished.


Personally, I do not celebrate the 'holiday'. I realize that many people, especially of the female gender, live for this day but why I cannot fully understand. I realize that everyone loves to feel wanted and loved, but what makes this one day unlike any other? Why should we set aside one day to do things for our significant others to let them know how we feel? Hogwash.


I don't play into all the hype around February 14th and I typically don't even leave my house on that day. That is just a personal choice though. Some of my friends think its possible I have just never had the 'right guy' to spend it with and some are with me on my anti-2/14 rant. I just think it is silly, plain and simple.


On to another subject. This whole Rihanna / Chris Brown situation is very discouraging. It makes me sad and very sympathetic. When I was 19 I was in my first abusive relationship. Abuse doesn't stop at physical violence. Abuse can be verbal, emotional or physical. I, unfortunately, have experienced all. In my case, the physical came before any of the others. You could say that it scarred me in a way, but I was able to run the other way very quickly. It happened twice. The first time really did seem to be an accident. It started off as just friendly banter, playing around. Things got a little rough and I had a bruise. No big deal I thought. The second time I wasn't so stupid. There was a time where I could give you an exact play-by-play and even though the details are engraved in my brain, some of them have been put in 'storage'. Basically, we were in the kitchen playing around the suddenly he took my arms and held them behind me, much like a police officer does when he / she is arresting someone and he held them there. He insisted that I admit that I was a "stupid bitch" (mind you, this came out of nowhere) to which I refused - I am a very stubborn girl. Next, after much refusal of such admission, he kicked my legs out of me causing my shoulder to break. I had so much adrenaline running through me that the next few moments are somewhat of a blur ... somehow I ended up in the bathroom, packed up all of my things and walked out to my car to leave. He came chasing after me doing the whole "apology bit" but when I showed no signs of backing down he got angry. I walked right up to him, and with all my might I gave one swift kick right into his baby makers. It hurt me like hell, but it was so worth it. It felt so good.

I never joined a support group or really talked about it. I just started talking about it in recent years. My mother and my sister are the only two souls that knew for a very long time. I knew that if my dad found out, there was a very good chance he'd wind up in trouble for trying to kill the guy. Everyone in my family is over-protective of me, but especially Daddy. I dealt with the pain on my own and never pressed charges. That may have been stupid, but it is what I chose to do. I have a weird way of getting over things. I don't think I even shed a tear after the drive back home. In my mind it was as if something bad never even happened.

I am an emotional ball of sap. I cry more than any other person I know. Not because I am depressed or sad all the time but because things affect me differently than most people. A lot of people think I make up for the lack of physical pain I feel with my emotions. I am the most sensitive person. A few weeks ago I sent out an email asking everyone to describe me in just one word. Though I got several different responses (all being quite accurate) the one that was most true to me was the response from my dad: "sensitive". Oddly enough though, I have this amazing ability to get over things very quickly. If I am sad, I cry a lot and cry until I can't cry anymore. If I am happy, I laugh a lot and laugh until it hurts. If I am touched, it is a combination of both tears and laughter. I realize that I don't have the most orthodox ways of doing things, but those ways work for me and I have a knack for sticking to what I know - at least where my emotions are concerned.

I have seen what repression and suppression can do to people. It tears them apart. Leads them to believe that the past is dead and gone when in fact it isn't. It is just hidden in some deep dark corner just waiting to jump back out and haunt you. That is why I deal with things as they come. There are no delayed emotional responses to anything that has happened to me in my past for the sole reason that I faced my problems head on. It just kills me to see these women blaming themselves for what has happened, for the bruises and the blood. Now I will add a little tough love. Although a woman should rarely (I don't dare say 'never' because that would make me a liar) blame herself for any type of abuse, there does come a time when she should blame herself for staying. There is a line you have to draw. There is a fork in the road. You either stay on the path of bruises, blood, name-calling and emotional pain or you take the road to freedom. The road to freedom isn't always easy, but it has the best outcome. I can assure you of that. Very few abusive individuals are capable of rehabbing themselves, therefore making them a danger to anyone who might cross their path.

On a lighter note I did have quite an eventful weekend. It was non-stop mayhem from the time I left work on Friday. I went for my first dress fitting for my best friend's wedding that will probably be the event of the year - and I mean that. After my fitting, my sister and I went out to the church that we grew up in to celebrate my Great Aunt Jimmie-Ruth's birthday. We seriously walked in, made our rounds saying hi and bye to everyone then walked out 20 minutes later to catch our movie. We met my sister's boyfriend at the theater and saw "Taken". Phenomenal movie. I would highly recommend it to anyone, except maybe the kiddies. After the movie we went to one of my very lease favorite places, Chilis. We met up with some friends and I went from being third wheel to seventh. The great thing about the people there is that they never make me feel that way. After Chilis we made our way home and into slumber. The next morning I woke up, went to the bank, went to Bed Bath & Beyond to purchase yet another bridal shower gift and made my way to the Pancake Festival to meet up with my dad and step mom. I sat patiently while they ate and we left just as fast as we had arrived. I headed straight to Eaglebrooke for the bridal shower for my sister's future sister-in-law. I indulged in several mimosas and even managed to win a game - don't mess with me at word scrambles. I am a champ. After the shower I did a few errands and made my way to the movie theater yet again. This time I saw "Push". Another good movie and I walked away with a sure feeling that there would be a sequel. After the movie I met up with some friends for an anti-February 14th dinner at Gator's Dockside. After a basket of fries we decided on game night and off we went. I managed to come out ahead at Scattergories and my sister & I dominated at Cranium. I promise you have never seen such a sight like what you could have witnessed that night. From making Buddha out of clay to humming "Take Me Out to the Ball Game" to acting out 'model airplane' to spelling words correctly aloud it was a night of laughs and even a lead-in-the-eye incident. You want some free entertainment - come to game night. Sunday was supposed to be a day of relaxation by the pool but that was badly interrupted by a cloud of gray fog and dense air. So we did the next best thing - went to Publix, came home and read the paper on the porch with a cup of tea. My sister and I rented "Nights in Rodanthe" and both let the tears flow. After the movie I headed to dinner and my third movie at the theater in 3 days. This time seeing "Coraline" 3D. Yet another great movie and yet another I would not recommend for the kiddies.

And now it is time to get back in the daily grind. Playtime and wishful thinking are over and its back to working for The Man.

If you have learned nothing from this post then hear this: February 14th is a ploy for Hallmark to make millions and for loser boyfriends / husbands / girlfriends / wives to have an excuse to be jerks the rest of the year - because they have a single day set aside to be sweet and shower their honeys with gifts of 'love'. I swear its not a bitterness thing. It's just the way I have always felt. You want to shower me with love? Do it the other 364 days, unless you are my daddy because he is the only one that has always given me gifts! :)

Now shut up and love.