you

Dear Cutie-Pie,

Recently, your mother and I were searching for an answer on Google. Halfway through entering the question, Google returned a list of the most popular searches in the world. Perched at the top of the list was “How to keep him interested.”

It startled me. I scanned several of the countless articles about how to be sexy and sexual, when to bring him a beer versus a sandwich, and the ways to make him feel smart and superior.

And I got angry.

Little One, it is not, has never been, and never will be your job to “keep him interested.”

Little One, your only task is to know deeply in your soul—in that unshakeable place that isn’t rattled by rejection and loss and ego—that you are worthy of interest. (If you can remember that everyone else is worthy of interest also, the battle of your life will be mostly won. But that is a letter for another day.)

If you can trust your worth in this way, you will be attractive in the most important sense of the word: you will attract a boy who is both capable of interest and who wants to spend his one life investing all of his interest in you.

Little One, I want to tell you about the boy who doesn’t need to be kept interested, because he knows you are interesting:

I don’t care if he puts his elbows on the dinner table—as long as he puts his eyes on the way your nose scrunches when you smile. And then can’t stop looking.

I don’t care if he can’t play a bit of golf with me—as long as he can play with the children you give him and revel in all the glorious and frustrating ways they are just like you.

I don’t care if he doesn’t follow his wallet—as long as he follows his heart and it always leads him back to you.

I don’t care if he is strong—as long as he gives you the space to exercise the strength that is in your heart.

I couldn’t care less how he votes—as long as he wakes up every morning and daily elects you to a place of honor in your home and a place of reverence in his heart.

I don’t care about the color of his skin—as long as he paints the canvas of your lives with brushstrokes of patience, and sacrifice, and vulnerability, and tenderness.

I don’t care if he was raised in this religion or that religion or no religion—as long as he was raised to value the sacred and to know every moment of life, and every moment of life with you, is deeply sacred.

In the end, Little One, if you stumble across a man like that and he and I have nothing else in common, we will have the most important thing in common:

You.

Because in the end, Little One, the only thing you should have to do to “keep him interested” is to be you.

Your eternally interested guy,

Daddy

———

This post is, of course, dedicated to my daughter, my Cutie-Pie. But I also want to dedicate it beyond her.

I wrote it for my wife, who has courageously held on to her sense of worth and has always held me accountable to being that kind of “boy.”

I wrote it for every grown woman I have met inside and outside of my therapy office—the women who have never known this voice of a Daddy.

And I wrote it for the generation of boys-becoming-men who need to be reminded of what is really important—my little girl finding a loving, lifelong companion is dependent upon at least one of you figuring this out. I’m praying for you.




***
This is from a website, http://drkellyflanagan.com/


Thanks, dr. Kelly Flanagan.
Good man.


Love, always.
M.

for you

I just want to thank you, from my heart and soul to yours, for somehow reminding me who I actually am, and more importantly, how much it's worth.

Maybe at some point in this life I'll somehow be able to show you how much that truly means.
And how much love I have for you.
I once said it's the greatest gift anyone can give another person.

I am good just the way I am.
I am worth loving just the way I am.


I sometimes used to forget.

But now I don't want to anymore.
I don't ever want to stop seeing what you saw.
And, I think, what you still see.

Maria

stupid

Okay, this is ridiculous.
It's time to stop being stupid and focus.

Feeling lonely is boring.
Feeling crappy is boring.

So why be boring.

Like, SERIOUSLY.


DREAMERS
DOERS
BELIEVERS
THINKERS

Visuals.
M.

learning

i will tell you, my daughter
of your worth
not your beauty
everyday.
(your beauty is a given. every being is
born beautiful)
knowing your worth
can save your life.
raising you on beauty alone,
you will be starved.
you will be raw.
you will be weak.
easy clay.
always in need of someone telling you how beautiful
you are.

“

—	emotional nutrition, nayyirah waheed I have so much left to learn. With love. M.

artwork

The thing is.
I've completely gone off track with the eating and nutrition and moving and working out, moving, whatever.
I miss feeling that active, and light, and responsive.
These past few months have just been a pause.

However, after "pause" you can absolutely press "play" again.

I think it's time I start taking my body for granted quite this much and consider it something much more special.
Strength, endurance and flexibility.

Artwork.
M.

if in doubt....

...GET SOME EXCITING PLANS OUT.
(This is currently the stage of unofficial excitement.)

But more about this later on.


So.
I noticed that for some reason I have started giving myself the worst possible chance of success.
Because "if it's easy, it's not worth it"? (big fat whatever, doesn't actually matter "why", to be honest..)

one day.
it would take me one day to catch up with everything that's lagging right now.
just one day.
and I've been putting off this one day for like, what, a week? More than a week?
It's ridiculous. and just a whole separate level of sheer stupidity.
and if I don't catch up, it will give me more reasons, more excuses later on, to say why something didn't go like this or like that.
it's like I'm cushioning my own failure, ALREADY.
So as opposed to saying "heck, I tried, I really tried", I'd have to opportunity to say "weelllll, there was thiiiis, there was thaaaat... blah, blah, blah"
Madness.

Why not have a fresh cup of screw-you, aaand actually help myself?
Why not just for once give myself the ultimate best chance of success? And not turn myself into this pitiful charity case? (which I'm SO not.)
Why not?
What is this fear of failure?
Cause surely, every goal is just a step in itself, not a finite point. So okay, yeah, whatever, you failed at point A, but then there's point B, and point C, and point D, and (surprise-surprise!) point E, you catch my drift. So surely, preparation for each point only makes it better for the next one. And these points don't end at Z. They end when our lives end, because that's the point. You go, go, go, go, go, go. You do things, until you don't.
Fear of failure... Why? And failing at what?
(loads of noises indicating "being irritated".)

So fear of failure is just so. f*cking. stupid.
(and also very aggravating stuff.)

ps. I'm going to read this tomorrow morning. Maybe out loud, for good measure.
Peace out.

helping yourself
M.