You spin me right round'

While its not the first time this year that my peace has been broken, it is the first time i gave in to the swelling wave of anger as it began to overtake me.
Luckily, I didn't allow it to completely engulf me, I made the decision to remove myself fron the space for the sake od our children. Knowing that to remain would only have driven me deeper into rage. Having to stand and listen to his justification for the past as if it is still relevent or valid. Knowing full well that  to have destroyed my equipment, some very expensive equipment, was wrong. Even moreso because in destroying my beloved camera, he destroyed my business. The single secure revenue stream that I had from my art. The thing that would have allowed me to produce the additional funds he now demands I pay on top of child support. Its not as if he doesn't know I can't afford this additional expense that he himself can not afford. He knows. But as always he doesn't care. Because nothing matters outside of what he wants. What he thinks is the "right" way to raise and care for our children. The children I bore.
He casts my opinion and facts aside for what he sees fit. Again leaving me feel foolish for willingly giving him the benefit of the doubt. For thinking he was ready to really make progress co-parenting. All I asked is that he helps pay for the camera he broke. Help restore the business he destroyed. He quickly reminds me that he helped me pay for the camera the first time. While just as quickly forgetting that at the time he called it an investment. That he believed in my talent and drive. He saw it as helping me empower myself to do for myaelf as he has done with his business'. He easily forgets all the free work I did for him which could (and would) have easily cost him between $800-1500 with any other photographer. Whether they liked the work or not. Whether they had to be therenfor guidance or not. They would have had to pay for a profeasionals time. The fact that not only did I shoot for hours, I also scouted locations, aquired and scheduled talent. Half his frikin site. But does he see the value? Does he even appreciate the work? Doeabhe consider our debt even? No.
Furthermore I don't understand how he paid for half when the money came fron our joint return that was to be split 50/50 between us. I was told it came out of my half. So how is it now that he paid for it? If I were a malicious and hurt filled person, I would simply take the money I need before giving him his half of this year's return. If I was that vindictive and mean spirited still, I would give him what I deem appropriate. I could but I won't because what would it really solve? Hoe far would that set back our relating if I acted like him instead of allowing him to choose to be his better self? Deapite him rarely choosing to be, its the choice I still make. Why? Because I don't need him. I don't want to be him and frankly I realized with this venting that I am beyond him. Not better then, just beyond. As in nothig he does can/will hurt or hold me back ever again in life.
This year again, we have the opportinity to put ourselves back into a responsible position by getting an apartment. Either individually or together. One way or another, I will create a physical home for myself and our children. I am creating a place of love and comfort so my children do not have to unnecessarily suffer in her house anymore.  If it means that I will have to assume full custody and primary care, so be it. I will not adibe by my children being forced to overhear her talk about me as if I am the worst human alive because I overslept after working an 8 hour overnight shift and a weekend where I had a total of 9 hours sleep over 3 days. She condemns me to whatever spirits she talks to without remembering my children, our children are in the next room. Rather then eliminate the problem of being there, he'd rather continue to enable it. I offer to get an apartment with him, he rebuffs the idea as if I offered him bed bugs. Easily forgetting that we would most likely never be in the same space at the same time. That if we were to co-operate and truly coparent, our children could have both of us in their lives everyday. They're wouldn't be a 3rd party non-parent in the background constantly undermining out discipline and ideals. He wouldn't have to hear her complaints all the time about every avoidable financial problem under the sun that she has. Our family would have healthy meals every day. Our family would have a roof over their heads. By no means am I trying to remarry hin or fix our broken past relationship. I am simply trying to ensure the physical, mental, and emotional well being of our family. As far as she goes, she is a relative who has been more then generous with her house. I am and will always be extremely grateful for that but she is not apart of our family. Same as my parents, they are spectators, outsiders when it comes to our family. Our family, the sanchez family, consists of 4 people. Hom, me, k & ni. Everyone else is irrelivent. Today he says to me that if she allows Pepo back into the house he'll take our kids tp a shelter and move out. WTF!????!!?!? Why not move out now, stand on your own two with me. Lets build. No one says this apt would have to be forever but it would be a great help in us keeping a better hold on how our children are raised. On what they take in. On how they.process our new relation. It will make a difference on how they act, talk, and think. Like right now how they are stuck in the pattern of playing the go-between game. If it were just he and I parenting them, they would know we are a team. That they can't go get their way by trying to get someone else to give them what they want. But right now they barely listen to us because she is there always ready to say yes when we say no. It undermines us as parents. But he sees nothing wrong with it. I recognized today that he is extremely comfortable enabling her because she takes care of him. And still he is not confident in my ability to be responsible and adjust my life/ambitions for our children. Also he's stuck in the past still. Its a shame. He won't even consider it because of what he wants. He wants to stay at het house and hear/deal with her shit. If not, why else continue to endure it? Why keep yourself in a situation that is not changing. Even if he brings up my inability to pay support on time, if he thought about it, and got out of the past, he'd realize that I remain workinf through every hardship. As much as I don't pay support, its because I pay for everything. I pay rent to my father to live in a chair, buy 2-3 meals a day, phone bill, storage, student loan payments, child support plus any additional activities or neceasities they need that he can't afford, & transportation; it all comes out of my check. He doesn't want to let ne use food stamps to buy some food and reduce how much i eat out but he will allow her to fees the church, baby showers, and any other event she is asked to cater without any compensation. Come on. What irks me is that these are current practices, not a past actions.
All of these things remain the same, year after year. He is okay with it. If he wasn't why else perpetuate a cycle you have the power and opportinity to break, better yet to end?

Love & Light,

C. Joi Sanchez
www.jsanschez.wordpress com

Finding Love in a Hopeless Place

It is a new month. February. Black history month. Celebrations of love. Valentine's day soon approaches. And while I am seriously single for the first time in forever, I am not hating the thought of spending this time alone. I am not afraid of it. As a matter of fact, I am excited by the prospect of celebrating  this feeling I seem to always feel and occasionally embody. Love.
Last year, I spent Valentine's Day 3000 miles away from my partner. At that time, I didn't know we were at the beginning of the end of our relationship. I was sad. I was depressed to be with someone but so seperated. I spent the day enjoying the sunshine of my princess. We crafted and colored cards for her brother and father back in new york. Together we made a red velvet cake, and healthy dinner of shrimp alfredo with steamed broccoli. Then, joined by our third generation, my mother, all ate dinner together. Us three lonely hearts clung to one another as supplement for the loves we were missing. As I reflect on it now, it was probably the beginning of the beginning of my current state of being.
Meaning the ability I have aquired over the last year to be content with myself. To be happy with my own company. To be love in the depths of my thoughts. Everyday I wake up now with an energy I can't explain. I am filled with what I can only describe as love.
Case in point, this weekend. Friday night while intending to run a simple errand in Brooklyn, picking up my photos, I ended up in the middle of amazing conversation with beautiful minded artists & thinkers. Maybe because it was unexpected, maybe it was because my spirit craved the company of people. Whatever the reason, something so simple, was made amazing in my memory. After a while I make my way to leave to head to a going away party of a good friend who is leaving this week to begin his new life in the US Army. I'm so drunk off alcohol and good vibes that I'm walking down 55th street freestyling on video. Nearly at my destination, I notice an ambulance ahead, and like any nosey human, I stop my recording to see what happened. And for a moment time stands still as I recognize the face of the injured, bleeding man being taken away is my wasband. Upon my brains regiatration of this fact, I am knocked back into sobriety. Yet I hear myself saying, "I am his wife. What happened?". I know its no longer a position I hold, yet I keep informing the paramedics about his medical history. I know its not what I am anymore but I claim it anyway, begining the motions of emergency protocal. Holding his hand so he knows he's not alone, checking for coherency. I  thought it was the alcohol but I realize its the love inside of me. This energy that has consumed me since the Universal time shift last December (more on that in another post). This energy guiding my actions and thoughts. This energy allowing me to not get caught up in past facts, lets me love him still without the need to possess him. Its this energy that reminds me that I will always be his wife, and its okay for me to care for and about him because its my selfish need to care for him. Because no matter how far we go or who else we come to love and share our lives with, he and I will forever be connected. So it is okay to love him. With this distance, I am able to love him more. Love him correctly, the way I did originally, freely. Without necessity to control, possess, judge, prove, pacify, condemn, or obligate. In this space, we are fulfilled & happy individuals. I remained by his bedside all night until I could be sure it would be okay to leave.
My Saturday began with a cup of coffee as the sun rose over John Jay Campus. I get uptown in time to share a snack of fruit with our kids before we get ready for Ni's first day of 3 year old journey. We go and enjoy ouselves, come back for lunch and naps but I can't sleep. I'm still worried, becoming more and more concerned with the state of their father in the hospital. So as soon as relief comes, I return to his side. His condition has worsened from when I left 9 hours prior. As necessary, my love once again transforms me into former roles of health care provider & advocate. Spreading my disappointment around the emergency room until the doctors & nurses take notice
of this man in need of care. I learned he had been ignored for hours. Thought to be discharged and simply awaiting a ride, he was left to suffer on the side of an empty pit desk. His bed, so low, the counter blocked any visability of him. He went unexamined or checked up on from 1:30 until I raised a stink around 6pm. They finally take action and allow me a moment of relief. I go outside to call family and update them. But as soon as my face meets the winter air, I crumble. I slide into a low crouch, hug my knees and cry. For the time it takes me to smoke a cigarette, I cry without stopping or shame. I never like crying, especially in public. I always feel wrong because I always hate to not answer passersby who always want to know "whats wrong?". Because what do you say when nothing is wrong? Maybe the truth, that its a natural reaction to stress. That I am afraid he may die. That I am scared that he will relapse. When really the truth is, I am crying because I fear my love is still wasted on him. That once he is better, he may come to forget how much and how well I cared for him when I didn't have to. He may make decisions that hurt more then help because he feels protected by them, yet not realize all I still do to protect him. And that I do all this out of love because I want to not because I have to, I cried for all of this and for him.
Once I pull myself together, I return to assure him I'll be back and remind the doctors that I'm watching them. Then its back to Harlem for  the nightly ritual with the kids. Dinner. Bath. Story. Bed.
Emotionally wound, I find my release on a stage at tge S.W.A.G. Open Mic in Brooklyn. I did one freestyle, 1 written, and received so much love in return. So much appreciation that I was renewed. I continue on into the freshly falling snow to attend a good friends first saturday party. She lives across from the museum and opens her home for all of us to comnune. Usually inviting some wonderful, little known, artist to adorn her walls. Surrounded on all sides by beauty, art, love, and intelligent conversation reminded me to do a shout out to my life. That I am blessed beyond compare to have people and spaces and outlets in my life that keep giving me what I need exactly when I need it.
I went home alone. Spending my last bit of pay on a much needed cab home. Collapsing into the big, warm bed, I drifted into sleep almost instantly until 3pm the next afternoon. I can't remember what I dreamed. But whatever it was, it was a most peaceful sleep. Renewing. Reviving. It was during my phone call to the hospital to check up on wasband I realized that I had not slept for two days. I know I didn't register that fact until that moment, so I could be reminded of the power love gives me. The stamina & fortitude it fills me with so I may be all I need to be for those I love. In that moment, I also realized, whether he appreciates or ever chooses to acknowledge me for what I do for him doesn't matter. Because I don't do it for recognition or  for a pleasant attitude or even for him. I do it because thats what love demands. I am satisfied knowing he still draws breath. That he will be here another day to continue being a great father to our children. My love contributed to that. And so I am fulfilled. I am happy. I am thankful.
Had this been a different time, he would not have been a second thought. I would have passed him on the street that night, seeing he was with his friend. I would have been the "uberbitch" people tell me I should be with him. When I imagine having acted like that now, the thought makes me sick. I am seeing how far I have come and how much I have healed. I am not bitter, resentful, or vindictive. When he decided on divorce, I was full of rage for so many things, mostly because I had lost hope. I had let my hurting lead me to believe that I would never feel love like this. In my hurt, I believed that him leaving me was a sign that ni one could love me and vice versa. As I write this, I laugh with my spirit as if it was an inside joke. Because I was wrong. I found love in a hopeless place. I'm now perfectly at peace. For that I smile.

Love & Light,

C. Joi Sanchez
www.jsanschez.wordpress com

The Consequences of Truth

The other day I wrote some truths that i had been feeling and denying for a long time about a show I was associated with. Please note the past tense language use is not a typo. We are no longer associated. Purely a decision on their part.

See after writing and posting my post, I meditated on it. Knowing this piece of me was on display and they still had no idea how I had felt, was troubling to me. I felt like eventhough the feelings had passed with my writing, that the residual energy mixed with their unknowing would poison the circle when i entered it. So I lit my candle, said my prayer, did a meditation for several days. What came to me as an answer was "share your truth, so truth may show its face". I took it as a possibility to spark conversation with people i had grown to care for. An opportunity for us to have a real conversation about how alienated I am made to feel sometimes in this space I love so much. I thought, clearing the air before Friday was necessary. It would be a good thing.

So I shared my post. With explination of why I write in my blog space. Because it is my safe space. It is the only place I feel my truth is accepted and not judged, because well. ... Lets face it, i have a readership of 2. One is my faithful unknown follower, the other is me as I proofread for gramatical errors. Even with the unpredicted occasional browser, its not a blog that can/will ruin the life of anyone. It is just me, documenting my time in this transitional place of my life. [I'm digressing.]

So I send them the link to my post. What follows is silence for most of the day. Until late in the night, like almost 2am when the angry phone calls begin. I pick up because I am awake and I am thinking, cool they want to talk. No they don't. (I am paraphrasing, as to not rehash the almost anger i had at the time) They call to dictate to me what I will and won't do. They call to tell me I'm crazy. That I am no longer welcome even as a paying customer in the space. That my measly, insignifigant blog was damaging and hurtful to them, thus burning bridges. WOW!

Never had I imagined this response. I truly thought that they were of more rational minds. I found I was wrong. As I recounted my motivation for writing and eventually sharing my post, my lady friend refocused my attention to the answer I had received. I thought about my feelings. Searched my spirit. I knew this was their truth. That with these late night phone calls, and many early morning text messages, they had finally shown their true face to me. And I am okay with that. I am okay with them not being apart of my life any longer. What now?

Our paths are bound to cross in the future, we have many of the same aquaintences and friends. We attend many of the same events. I will even be serving on a Board of Directors with one of them, so eventually we will interact. But I am not worried about it. I am at peace with all of it. You may ask why? What could/would allow me to be okay with a loss I considered major? The difference is me. It took a day of cuddling with my bubbly princess, an early morning meditation, and the council of a trusted friend for me to remember that I am different. I am not the same woman I was last year or even last week. I am certain and strong in my character. The people that are genuine will not abandon me because of someone else's biased opinion of me. I know who I am. Better yet, I love who I am and know that other love me too. I know who I want to become and I am well on my way to becomming. I am no longer the broken woman, desperate for attention and love. I am love, at least becoming it. People are attracted to my energy.  I do not need to go to that specific space to meet someone, I am confident enough to venture out to other spaces alone and talk to people that are interested in me. Because I am interesting. My life is full and satisfying, and beautiful and complete in its ever evolving way. So it is okay to let go of this space. Whether to form my own or simply discover new ones, it is okay to let go. This space doesn't need me and I don't need it. We'll be okay without each other. And I golden with that.

Love & Light,

C. Joi Sanchez
www.jsanschez.wordpress com

Respect

I'm no good at making demands. One of my toughest challenges in this life has been confrontation and getting respect. I used to ( and still do) believe that if I was nice and respectful of others, I would receive the same in return. It wad how I wad raised. What I was taught. But the older I get in this technological based world, I am quickly learning that is not the case at all. There is no longer lessons of courtesy or manners bring taught in homes. So far gone is our society, that even some of our elders have forgotten these basic lessons. I find what is considered courtesy & respect varies from culture to culture as well as between sexes and sexualities. Respect is no longer a universal language. Its now broken into bits, digested according to individual ideas. Its become such a complex and complicated system to navigate that half the time, I can only seem to show respect by holding my tongue. Shrinking my presence to the satisfactuon of others.
But what does that leave for me? What does that mean for me? If in order to respect another, I feel I must disappear? In essence, disrespect myself.. I ponder this fine line between courtesy and respect deeply as I watch my children play the game all children figure out eventually. I call it playing against the middle. They ask one parent for a thing, if that parent says no, they move on to the other parent or another adult until someone says yes. Eventually someone says yes, and that is the moment the inital parent must decide if they will allow it to happen or intervene and be cast as the "bad guy". Usually I let it be, unwilling to get entangled into the fruatration that will come from it. I often wonder if that is the "right" choice. If I am teaching my children a good lesson or if this is a major contributor to their misbehaving. But then I remember how great my kids are 90% of the time.

C. Joi Sanchez
www.jsanschez.wordpress com

A River Ran Through Her

Today I received some of the most disapponting news of the year yet. A show that I regularly contributed to, lets call it, WoCC, let me know that for the next 3 months, they wouldn't need me to perform. They didn't want me to perform. They had already gotten something/one else. 

Reading the news via text, I wad stunned. Until the next text came saying, hey if you have sitter issues, you don't have to come at all. See these next couple months, I am also House Managing this same show. I.e. I am responsible for the space while they put on their show. Which to me is something I no longer look forward to. I now dread having to sit and watch someone else do the thing that each month I would meditate and put a lot of deep thought into doing. Cause I have no idea how to watch it without bitterness in my heart, losing something that means so much to me.

Considering this change came a week before the show. It was sudden like the crash of a tsunami wave. I could see the swell happening subtly, yet failed to be able to predict it coming. It is disheartening.

Its also a reality check; A reminder from "leaders" of a community that I will never fully be accepted. Because women like me are considered in varying regards, none of which are good. Its the type of reality check that makes me wish I wasn't this freak of nature queer woman. That at some point prior in life, I would have made a decision about my sexuality one way or the other. I feel wrong to be who I am, a woman that simply loves people. I refuse to make a distinction based on body parts. Men, women, and everyone in between us nothing more then a soul wrapped in flesh. Flesh that will one day not exist, so why should I choose whom I will love based on that?

It also makes me wish people could own up to their bullshit. Stop claiming a friendship that only seems to exist when they want something from me. Stop saying how concerned and hopeful you are of me when all of your actions and words prove otherwise. Don't tell me how lovely and attractive I am yet, condemn me because a few of my former lovers are men. Don't say you believe and support my art but never attend a performance or go so far as to lie not to come. . Don't tell me how much you love children, and care for mine but can't stand to be bothered with the reality of my life. See.. Its a cancerous clusterfuck that only spreads if I let myself feel all the things it brings up. So I write it out of my system. Leave these negative feelings in this page and hopefully wake tomorrow with positive thought and love in my heart once again for WoCC.

I sometimes wonder if I brought my girl child into this environment and not my male child, if it would be better received. If because of the speratist views held by the powers that be, would they be so annoyed by the presence of a female youth. Would I still be confronted by their insecurites (for lack of better phrasing) if the cutness I cared for while balancing my monthly commitment to them was feminine and not masculine. Except that is a senario that would never happen because my daughter is not in school. She does not require me to pick her up an hour before show call. She has someone to be with her all day, everyday when I can't. So as lovely as that theory is to ponder, it is an unrealistic senario that won't ever be tested. Furthermore, my son has plenty of feminine energy. He idealizes his mother and all the other strong women that surround him. And I'm 60% sure he will grow up to be a gay man. But I'm digressing and that is another post.

This is about WoCC dropping me and how I feel about that. I must admit again, I don't feel good about it. I do not like it. And as the anger leaves my fingertips, my spirit is reminding me that I probably needed the break. That perhaps this space and the people that hold it are not my community. Maybe I am meant to form my own community. A community where people truly do accept one another regardless of their life decisions. Where support, real support is not a "friend" acknowledging your homelessness,hearing how you've been sleeping on the trains and hoping from couch to couch,  having a  room for rent yet saying they can't/won't rent to you because of a perceived fear of your crazy ex or the inconvenience of your children. Yet in the same breath, proclaim how they plan to procreate. As I type this out my system, my spirit is reminding me that a true friend will never tell me lies and spread gossip behind my back. She won't abandon me when I am down, and she definitely won't steer potential love interests away from me because if what she believes about me.  No, my spirit reminds me that this is not my space. Regardless of how connected I feel to it, it will always take more then it gives. It will never compromise its position or beliefs. It will not conform or make room for a queer girl like me. This space will suck me dry if I let it.

This situation is a heavy one for me to process. Partly because I recently lost a long time friend that introduced me to this space. She, much like these women, held certain beliefs about me that she never cared to talk with me about. She just consulted herself and concluded that 15 years if friendship wasn't worthy of a conversation nor clarification. And that was that.
The other reason this is hitting me so heavy is because it is within the community if this space that I reclaimed my joy, found myself, and came out of a deep deep depression. Although, I wonder sometimes, if I  would have done those things on my own. Without the wonderful people I have met through chance encounters.
Also, I am alone. Completely and utterly alone and as free as I am, I can't shake this lonliness that is beginning to set in. I can't change my awkwardness enough to aquire a companion that accepts me. I fear that in the pursuit of my art, I will always be alone. Maybe thats how it has to be in order for me to succeed. I'm okay without a relationship. But I would like to have sex with someone other then myself. I would like to kiss a set of lips I didn't create. I want to be held at night. I want to feel loved, if only for a night. Is that asking too much?
Lastly, my art is personal. Intensely so. Every month I push myself to create something people feel. To send out a piece of my soul. To connect with goddess spirit and be her incarnation for those 7-10 minutes that I occupy the stage. It was important to me. And it was told to me that it was important for me to do this because of who I am. Because of what I am. I am the mother of two perfectly blended children of ancient ancestry. The pieces I create represent how linked the two cultures are despite the denial of that fact. The first time I was asked to do it in September, it was a convenience sort of thing. I was surprised and humbled to be asked to continue it month after month. I finally felt a connection to something bigger then me, as if I mattered. I took pride in the creation & execution of each piece. Without it, I feel disconnected, useless, & unnecessary. Like before, as if I am in a place I don't belong and am unwelcome in. 

Maybe its just me and I'm overthinking. But is it really foolish to listen and express one's feelings? I can't help but think this is it. I will never be asked back. I will be forgotten and go back to being the unappreciated dormat I felt like prior to my infintismle rise in promenance.
Maybe it's all in my head. And now thats its out, i am thankful. I am appreciative of the experience. 

C. Joi Sanchez
www.jsanschez.wordpress com

Respect

I'm no good at making demands. One of my toughest challenges in this life has been confrontation and getting respect. I used to ( and still do) believe that if I was nice and respectful of others, I would receive the same in return. It wad how I wad raised. What I was taught. But the older I get in this technological based world, I am quickly learning that is not the case at all. There is no longer lessons of courtesy or manners bring taught in homes. So far gone is our society, that even some of our elders have forgotten these basic lessons. I find what is considered courtesy & respect varies from culture to culture as well as between sexes and sexualities. Respect is no longer a universal language. Its now broken into bits, digested according to individual ideas. Its become such a complex and complicated system to navigate that half the time, I can only seem to show respect by holding my tongue. Shrinking my presence to the satisfactuon of others.
But what does that leave for me? What does that mean for me? If in order to respect another, I feel I must disappear? In essence, disrespect myself.. I ponder this fine line between courtesy and respect deeply as I watch my children play the game all children figure out eventually. I call it playing against the middle. They ask one parent for a thing, if that parent says no, they move on to the other parent or another adult until someone says yes. Eventually someone says yes, and that is the moment the inital parent must decide if they will allow it to happen or intervene and be cast as the "bad guy". Usually I allow it to just be, out of respect for my elder and an unwillingness to enter into unwanted frustration. But I sit in wonder, if this is the right course of action. If my silence is the transformative power turning me into a dormat. And what is the lesson my children extract from my inaction? Do they recognize my constant need for peace? Or do they too learn, to take their mother for granted?

C. Joi Sanchez
www.jsanschez.wordpress com

Wake up & smell the coffee [12.31 delayed post]

Today someone told me I needed to "grow up & accept life", as if believeing that two people that love each other, is childish. I should have known better then to talk to this person because she is a friend of my (soon to be ex-)husband. She is not my friend. She is also blessed to have someone in her life that actually loves her. Her spouse seems to understand that you must work through problems together to solve them. While my spouse is content to run away. To dump hope and vows on the waste side and move on to ruin someone else's life. What she, and he, and everyone else telling me to "be strong" fail to realize is that divorce had never been an option for me until he forced it on me. I never considered it as an option. Because a broken home is/was not an acceptable station in life to put my children in. Its weak to say I can't do better then this for them. To say that our family is not worth the effort or time it takes to have a real and lasting relationship.
I know I just saying this because I am hurt. I am dead on the inside, to the point where I would prefer to not live through this. Everyday I wish I'd have just let him kill my body three years ago so that my heart, mind, and children didn't have to go through this now. I hate this. But it doesn't matter. What i want, believe, hope for. And as much as I am magic, I can't conjur a solution that doesn't result in him still leaving me.

C. Joi Sanchez
www.jsanschez.wordpress com

NWW- Wants

Right now I want to be angry. At him, at myself, at her; the failure of my marriage, my loss of home, sense of security, threads of mental stability, the lies, betrayals, abuses, absurdities and lack of regular sexual contact with another human.
But I can't.
I literally can't. I feel the emotions begin to swell from time to time but dissapaite by the time they've reached my brain to be processed into words. I don't know how or when it happened..  Maybe New Years Eve?  possibly from the moment I took off from Vegas.. I have no clue. I do know that somewhere in this past month, I turned a corner. I am not a desperate, lonely, fearful, angry, spiteful girl. I am a quiet, motivated, inspired, driven, focused woman following her vision. I'm not hung up not tied to my past any longer. I see past mistakes before I repeat them and have consistantly chosen a different response.

Case in point: A week ago, I was able to endulge my stalker fantasies and dillusions of marital duty, and loom on J's FB page for the first time since July. Back in the summer, he deleted me to "protect his company from our personal bullsh*t storms"; which had escalated to previously unseen heights. (lets just leave it at that;  it was bad). I understood that, and thought nothing of it since I still shared a computer with him & could loom on his various pages any time I pleased. However, once both laptops were broken, his phone became the only source of internet available. Fast forward to last week. I'm cruising along on my stalking spree, when I scroll back through his post to September. There it sits, a picture of our children; my children hugging & playing with O. My daughter draped from her neck like a Jesus piece on display. My son, our son, hugged her thighs, his tiny hands probably cupping her ass. Looking at that picture, reading all the "congrats" from people I had once considered friends, seeing J flaunt her with our kids, praising her as his saving grace, his "tomorrow"; I damn near passes out from the flood of anger spreading through me.
At this point, you may be saying 'aren't you two divorced?" Why get upset?"  The picture was dated 2 months before I was even informed that he had decided to move on with his life . Meaning he was parading our kids through his new relationship, without ant regard for the marriage he was in. People I thought were friends,we're just as fake as he was then. It hurt that he was out and about with her explaining away a marriage he preferred not to have. Replacing me with her without a second thought. At first I was embarassed to be the last to know. At that moment though, looking at that picture, I was defeated. I had been made a fool of and  Now I can write about it with no shade. That night, staring at that picture I had a choice to make. I could get upset and blow up or I could leave it be and continue to move on with my life. I chose the latter, it served me well.
Even now while he continues to act in the same manner as before ; i.e. combative & secretive, I remain cool, calm, & collected. Viewing the bigger picture for once. It serves me to be calm and remaun focused. I channel my energiea into my art. Eventually I will love again, probably not the same way I loved him. No one will/can ever again have that much of me but eventually someone will prove I am worth it. And it will be a love that both serves me and deserves me.

C. Joi Sanchez
www.jsanschez.wordpress com

#newyearnewview

"when you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change"
A timeless truth to life and the universe. For about 20 mins I was bumbed because I had thought that the circumstance if having no money, would have hindered my ability to have a "good new year."
Believing in magic and superstition as I do, I believe in the theory that how you begin your year is how you spend it. And I thought I would be spending 2013 stuck, if I couldn't get to where I was going. Then, ever so wisely, my dad said to me "maybe you'll just be travelling this year". Bing! Bang! Boom!  My mind flashed. I finished his sentence, the above quote. So now I am on the train to brooklyn. Rethinking everything about my situation.
  Its really time for a new view. Not a new me, just an adjustment in how I look and react to things. A change to the energy I carry, distribute and receive. A change to how I become the person of greatness I see myself becomming.
Starting with today. Today it becomes official when I go to sign the divorce papers. For the last year I've been crying, allowing myself to attribute it to love. From a different view, I see it has been my spirits way of mourning a lost love. He woll always be the image I hold in my heart because at his.core, he is a good man. But maybe he's not the right partner for me. From this alternate view, I am okay with that. As of today, my ties to him are gone. I know because of the shift I feel inside my skin. I see his face and no longer see that man I loved. And I'm ok. Even better, I am good. I know its okay to let go.
Today I am free. I set myself free from worry, guilt, fear, doubt, hypocracy, arrogance, anger, jealousy & irrational hatred. I will become the change I want to see in the world. Starting with this:  changing my view.

C. Joi Sanchez
www.jsanschez.wordpress com

Happy Anniversary

Today was my 3rd anniversary. A day most couples celebrate with equal or greater excitement then the actual day they were married. Most couples.
But I spent today alone. Working and continuing to mentally prepare for the journey ahead. Out of sentementality, I called him up for a late dinner. A last ditch effort for peace between us. Now I'm wondering why I did it in the first place. Why I would expect my tears to fall on anything but deaf ears and dirty floors.
I listened to him speak tonight about his job. Let him drone on and on, drowning out the voices around us. For a few moments it was like normal. It was a glipse of the past, yet lacking none of the present tension. At first I did well to hold it in. I wouldn't let myself close my eyes and get lost in the silky tone of his voice. I didn't let my mind wander off on fantastical flights of fancy. Hoping for a change of heart in this heartless being. I even asked him to pay for his meal. Resisting the temptation to spend what little I had on us, as if we are still a real couple. Then he walked me to the train, and as hard as I could, I asked questions I needed to know. Bad mistake. I only led myself down the path of being tormented by words so old that it was made absolutely clear exactly where he is. He is in the past. As if wrapped up in delayed anger, he  sends razor blades to still my heart. Still justifying his obvious need for total control with things I said two & three years ago.

I fall supseptable to my own curiosity once more. And while I have no idea what I want, I now know for sure that I no longer want someone who doesn't want me. I am sure that I'd rather contibue through this hell alone then hope for redemption from ny bleeding heart. I'd rather be his villan then his victim.

C. Joi Sanchez
www.jsanschez.wordpress com