Let's not forget........What led me there in the first place.

I can get wrapped up in how much my life has changed over the years, but it is only because it is so hard to contain the excitement that I have about sharing the lessons I have learned! I desire to relate to anyone I come in contact with because I have seen what can happen when we share what has led to the decisions we have made. I feel like Mario Bro.'s 2 in the game I love! Collecting mushrooms and coins to beat the bad boss at the end of world 8.....Ah the good ol' days.....um not so much but ya get my drift. I've collected all of my mistakes to show you how I've filed them back in my brain after accepting the responsibility for everything I did and said. I take it you're wondering how such a cute thing like me could only have one boyfriend before marrying the wrong guy?! You would be wise in asking yourself if we skipped a few parts in the story. This is the story that goes on and on and it gets ever more exciting as we go along. Remember I told you that when I was just barely out of the womb I was kicked out of the house for the "Jezebel Juggle" I was accused of at the ripe age of 17. I had begun a dark spiral right after my high school graduation. I had some how managed to find some guy to fancy the feet even I couldn't see due to the belly I had been growing since birth. Sarcasm? No. Only the part about the guy, that was made up. My parents were convinced since I wasn't running home like an episode of Little House on the Prairie, then my only options were sexual deviance. I have shared with you that even though that wasn't the case I have since learned a valuable lesson on what was really going on in the house hold. Moving forward I knew nothing was going to please my parents since they were hiding their own secrets- it was easier to place blame on me than to own up. It didn't matter, let's be honest, my journey was mine and even though I was making a mess of it by dating a Muslim man while making it to church at leassst 4 times a month, It was my mess and I liked it that way. I don't know that I would have changed it much, since I was the one making all the choices back than as well. I did have great times with my boyfriend, playing relationship games on the weekends. Ya know the ones where you make time to watch movies, talk, or to make out on the couch. Ha! I was 20 going on 21 when I knew things weren't going to workout. He wasn't into meeting my family and my family wasn't into getting a new photo for above the fireplace. Come to think of it, they never like photos where we have new people in them. Keep that in mind as we go through this mess one blip at a time. I could see the independence coming around in me. I felt like I could pull away more and still keep a boyfriend. No we didn't have sex. Just get that out of your heads. I'm not saying we didn't do things that I would like to stand up in front of church and announce but (I am proud to say) I never did crude things with my mouth and he never asked me to. I take it many of you are not up on the Koran. If he had kept my virginity(which I did) he deserved a long life in a 7th level of some form of heaven that he believed in. Although Christians do not believe in this level heaven stuff, I did like it he never tried to have sex with me. I was afraid of sex, shamed of sex, confused of sex, afraid of sex, scared of sex, and did I mention afraid of sex? Yes, this sexy thing at one time was mortified to ever think of having to be sexual and NAKED.....I WAS HOOKED ON THE "HAVE TO BE NAKED" PART FOR A LONG TIME. You eventually get over that if you get counseling, or drink. I don't drink. Lord have mercy no. This extrovert has never had alcohol, for good reason. I don't need it. Anyhow I needed to move on and he was trying to settle down, now was a good time to collect my altered ego and scat. He was starting to talk marriage and I thought for sure I was going to end up in someone's basement making burkas for people I didn't even know so I started to make him mad to put distance between us. It was hard to let go of someone you didn't fight with. What was there to fight about? He worked ridiculous hours and I worked ridiculous hours, by the time I finally saw him either to eat dinner together after 9 or to see him on the weekend after my workouts, what's to fight about? We both loved our jobs and loved our independence, but something changed and it wasn't going to be the same ever again. I made sure of that. I don't like being told what to do. Maybe you have figured that out by reading my blogs. That's not what it sounds like. I don't like being barked at like a dog, I love conversation and a strong leader type, but no barking orders. I had that crap at home, I wasn't going to take it from a man (said in the most urgent of female viking voices to declare my independence). The pivotal moment came on a Saturday afternoon in the late summer. I could never forget this day no matter how long ago it was. He wanted to talk to me about going to the gym and out dancing with my friends when I turned 21. I was getting so excited to go to dance clubs because ASIDE FROM BEING A FABULOUS DANCER, I LOVE TO DANCE!!!!!!!!!! He was forewarning me that I wasn't going to be able to go out and shake my body around other men. I was immediately appalled at his accusation that I would even do such a thing (which I would later do 6 nights a week to be exact). I told him as we were sitting on the couch that he was going to have to trust me because I've been waiting my wwwwhhhhoooolllleeee life to be able to do this and I was going to do it. Period. He turned and slapped me across the face. In that moment so many things rush through your head. Is it going to escalate? Is he going to hurt me? Is he going to yell? Is he going to kill me? I didn't say all of those things were rational, but remember I was 20 years old with childhood baggage and dating a Muslim man while I was sober. The whole big picture wasn't pretty. I'll never forget how intense I got after that. I stood up and he told me to watch my next move very carefully. My stomach was in knots, I wasn't sure if he knew exactly who he was messing with. He was lucky that day, because I let him live while I planned my revenge. Once the line is crossed there's no going back to before hand. He had slapped me so hard I remember seeing the lines across my cheek when I used the bathroom. I knew then we needed to break up and I needed a killer plan to do so. I've always tried to be one step ahead of the toxic behavior in my life and then was no different than now. So I had a lot of long nights ahead of me and I hadn't seen my boyfriend for a few days after the wretched slapping he gave me. He asked me to come over for a picnic on the following Saturday and I agreed to go. I was patiently awaiting my birthday which was just a few short months away and I decided to make my move slowly away. I wanted to get him back in such a way that didn't make it a bad breakup but more of a way to help him since I clearly was weighing him down and wasn't the right fit for him. So I have always loved to cook and to this day love casserole's. He worked in food service so he loved it when I cooked. I knew part of his stringent religion was to NEVER EAT PORK. Look it up, it's a thing. Pork's always been a favorite of mine in any form (even at the farm show the baby piggies are my all time favorite)!!! I made sure to incorporate okra which was one of his faves, along with everything PORK. He had no idea that down to the broth, was from the pork roast I made and told him it was turkey. Ha Ha! "Slap me again and get roasted with that pork" was what was going through my mind. I put tons of cheese and veggies in to mask the pork and of course he ate it up. Every bite he looked up at me with glee that I had really hit something here. I just smiled and said to myself "Laura......you're good honey, you're real good". He asked me at one point what the delectable flavor was and I told him it was my claim to fame cooking skills. I just played it off like he didn't get out much! That there is a whole big world out there full of flavor he doesn't get to see because he's always around the Subway subs. I then sat him down and looked him in the eye, and let him know I had been thinking. It was clear to me that he needed someone worthy of him and his "ways'...yes, yes, yes. I used reverse babble on him, but it worked. I told him that the journey of being his girlfriend had come to an end and it was time to part as friendly as we could so he could find the perfect person to compliment his life. I told him our religions didn't match and my independence would get in the way of someone taking care of him. Blah blah blah! He bought it hook, line, and sinker. He went to hell in a hand basket from eating my casserole but the breakup went easy peezy. No hard feelings, I think we both knew it wasn't going anywhere and we were fine to let go of what was. Could it have been worse? Sure, I was a lucky one who didn't get wrapped up in some weird cargo ship back to Egypt. I am not belittling anything I have been through but not everyone who has come to this country wants that kind of ending to their story either. I have run into my ex from time to time over the years and there is still no hard feelings and I feel we both won in the end. It didn't destroy us, which is pretty cool considering the circumstances. It didn't take long for me to get into a new kind of groove on the weekends as I prepared for my time to be 21! I was never so excited for an age as I was then. I never wanted to be older than 20, other than to go dancing with all the other people like me who wanted to be out there feeling the music on the dance floor. (Not to mention feelski's, you gotta watch out for the grabbers) I was so naive. I was also so strong of a woman that if someone did try to touch me on the dance floor I put it to a stop with just a look. Ohhhhhhhh, the day I could hear the music on the outside of the building I remember I would get chills just to get on the floor and dance my heart out. I would get there early when all the guys were still getting all the alcohol out and stocked at 9 pm. How was I supposed to know that the party didn't start until around 11:45 pm. I would guzzle coffee right before I went out at 8:45 so I could stay awake until the music became one with my bones to keep me up. There was nothing like the rush of the cold dance floor with the music pumping through my veins until more people arrived. I did this for months just loving the intense rush I got every time I was able to dress up and walk into the club every weekend. I must say if I had to do this now, I wouldn't love it at all. I've wised up over the years to just how lucky I was to not get hurt by some scum bag trying to ruin my night. I made a lot of friends over the years, well, more like acquaintances. I had a name for myself. "Dancer Girl". I take it I got that name because I was ALWAYS there at 9 pm to dance and NEVER DRANK anything but bottled water. Some of the best years of my life were dancing it out in my 20's. Whether it was me all by myself or with a friend, I didn't care. I had a pleasant surprise a few short weeks into being 21 when my girlfriend from Beauty school was going through a divorce and wanted to tag along and find her groove that she so clearly lost during her odd marriage. I knew we would have a fantastic time dancing it out together. We always got along perfect. No drama with us. We didn't like the same guys and we both loved to dance so it was a no-brainer that hanging out together was a great gig for us. She didn't care if we went early to dance at 9 either. She was a keeper. Those few short months where we danced our hearts out are still some of our best memories. THEN I SAW HIM.............