Author: Amber💘

I don’t think that my clumsy, fiddling hands were made to hold delicate butterflies.

I posted on my facebook:

“I am so unbelievably glad that I realized that I am a lesbian. I legitimately feel bad for straight girls because what do you mean you’re attracted to your number one predator? 🥲”

It was supposed to be tongue in cheek humor. An honest, vulnerable personal truth followed by an empirical fact phrased in a bitchy, silly little way- like I do.

I didn’t expect a big response. Twelve people liked, loved, or cared for it- mostly straight people (of both genders).

I had a quick, thoughtful exchange with a gentleman who questioned if it was satire because he was worried it was a dangerous idea. He seemed receptive to my honest response.

Before that respectful exchange with what is basically an internet stranger, one of my closest friends commented something that truly upset me. She said something like “Not all men are evil. Women are just as bad. I hate everyone. lol” I’m paraphrasing from memory because she deleted her comment shortly after.

I was already irritated with my teenagers for bickering with each other. I was having a really painful period. But I rarely post about being a lesbian so this really rubbed me wrong.

I texted her.

“Please don’t “All Lives Matter” me”

“I’m not really sure what all you’re implying, but I don’t think it’s fair to think that every single man is a predator”

“Who said that? Because I didn’t.”

…

“Women are not all innocent. Because they are a woman. All you have to do is listen. You know to some true crime. A lot of men become violent because of very bad mothers. That’s a fact.”

“Babe, no one said that. And don’t do that. Don’t blame women for shitty men.”

“I’m going to just leave this conversation because I feel like this is one that it doesn’t matter what I say. You know it won’t matter so I’m just going to leave it right there.

I just simply don’t agree with you saying that women are innocent and don’t do anything wrong and men are the sole thing that is wrong. I don’t believe that or agree with it. That’s what I’m trying to express to you and that’s it.”

“you are feeding words into my mouth that I never said. You misunderstand and misinterpret me, but it doesn’t matter. You don’t want to find understanding so ttyl”

“You let me know when you want to talk again. I’m willing to do that when you’re ready. But I just don’t want to argue with you. I love you too much. I’ll talk to you soon”

“You came onto my post celebrating myself to defend men like I attacked them when I stated a fact. And you keep saying that I said “all men and bad and all women are good” when I never said anything like that. I’m not arguing; i just don’t understand the point. It hurt my feelings.”

“I never in a million years want to or will ever try to hurt your feelings. Our friendship means the most to me.

I don’t think that post was designed to celebrate yourself. It definitely came across as a jab at men. And women who like men.

And I understand I took it to the extreme of all Men are bad and all women are good. When you did not say that. and I’ve thought about that and I think that’s just how you made me feel recently by various conversations over time. You have become very man-hatey and it does bother me because I do love men and I do know there are good men and I’m trying to raise a good man.

The point I was simply trying to make is that not all men are predators. There are plenty of women predators too. And I don’t think it’s fair to blame one gender. That’s all.”

“You don’t get to tell me what my post is designed for”

“I’m happy we’re able to talk now. I was stressing we weren’t going to speak for a long time. And I don’t like that thought.”

“yeah, I’m not so happy that I continued the conversation honestly”

“I have to cook dinner anyway”

“you think i’m man hatey, i think you are man centered”

And that was Thursday.

I want to understand her perspective and keep this friendship. I value her greatly. She means so much to me. But today, on the following Monday, I sent this:

The number of problematic opinions that you displayed in our prior exchange blew my mind. And I need to get a couple of things off my chest if we are going to move forward as friends. I thought you were a feminist. But arguing that they aren’t our predators when women are murdered by men literally 85% of the time feels willfully ignorant.

Let’s start at the beginning: women as a whole are absolutely not nearly as evil as men. We have the same access to firearms and weaponry, but we don’t commit half of the murders, independent nor mass nor rapes nor battery. Men are the number ONE perpetrators of ALL violent crimes and statistics across the ENTIRE globe.

No one said all women are innocent; I know that women (particularly us white women) are one of the greatest tools of the patriarchy. Women hate women, too. It’s part of the patriarchal culture that we are raised in; constantly pitting us against one another.

I don’t think every single man is a predator; I know and love a handful of men. You met about 20% of the good men that I know at my birthday party. But I also think that it’s common sense to approach every unknown man like a loaded gun. If not then let your teenage daughter go see a random male masseuse alone. Or hire a boy babysitter for your infant daughter. No? Why not?

“A lot of men become predators because of very bad moms” Yeah? Well a lot of bad moms become bad moms from abusive, rapey, and/or absent fathers- their own and their children’s. Notice how the father’s responsibility was never even mentioned? Men’s bad behaviors are their responsibility alone, not the women around them. That feels very “what were you wearing”. Again, a problematic part of this patriarchal rape culture.

Furthermore you telling me what my intentions are on a post that I wrote is rude as fuck. Ask me; I am a very honest & blunt person. I have never lied to you because I have no care to lie.

Yes, YOU took it to the extreme. You took it as a jab and that’s something you should reflect on; I am not responsible for your triggers. We are all responsible for our own feelings.

But honestly, I think it’s kind of shitty-as my friend- to insinuate that you have been having secret negative feelings about me, but not said anything until now. If I have been man-hatey, then why wouldn’t you say something when you were bothered? I think a good friend would.

that you are thinking of me.

That’s why you chose to peek onto my TikTok page instead of any other platform. To be certain that I would know without your directly reaching out to me.

But I’m beyond these games now. If you had caught me six months ago, I would’ve been weaker. There would’ve still been a strand of hope to pluck at on my heart.

Getting over you has been the 2nd hardest thing that I’ve ever dealt with in my whole entire life. I can’t afford to falter now.

Maybe one day we will be friends again. Maybe one day we can be in each other‘s life in some way that is healthy.

Maybe not.

But I’ll have to be in love with someone else before I would ever consider allowing you back into my life in any capacity. What we had was magical. Yet, it wasn’t meant forever in this timeline.

It was meant that we each could learn and grow and become more of ourselves. We are each separately and uniquely, supremely special. And I will always love you because of your heart, in spite of everything.

I wish you so much joy. I wish you so much healing. I wish you so much happiness. I truly hope that you’re cherished and appreciated and that you receive more love than you can imagine.

But I’m not ready to reconnect with you.

“We do not have a justice system; we have a legal system.”

And legality has never equated morality.

“It’s not my business. Not anymore.

Maybe not ever.

She was never really mine.

There was a moment when she might have been, when I could see a future spinning out between us, but things ended before that nebulous fantasy could be realized.

There’s no going back now.”

My sister was talking about the possibility of having more babies today. She goes back-and-forth between whether she wants more. My nephew, Asher, will be five on October 30 and my niece, Rayleigh, just turned one in September. They are perfect.

She mentioned today that with finishing her nursing degree, she might be too tired to have another one once she is back in the hospital. I told her two might just be the perfect number for her.

She said “but I really want to give Rayleigh a sister.”

“She already has her brother and he’s more than enough entertainment,” I replied.

“Yeah, but I have three pretty good brothers and one absolutely amazing sister, and let me tell you what- they are not the same.” 😂

I don’t think she will ever know how much it means when she lets me know what a good sister I am. I lost the first one; I’m certainly going to cherish the one I have left.

“Worrying is wishing for something you don’t want”

“If you speak, you disturb the dream, and if you remain silent you disturb your soul. — When you speak, when you choose to name what others deny, you risk being cast out, and not always gently.” -Alan Watts

means outgrowing old habits, old ways, and old learnings. But it also means outgrowing people and places that were once very comfortable. I had to learn to be uncomfortable with the unfamiliar and unknown all the while clinging to a deeper knowing that it will be well in the end. I’ve had to let go of friends and lovers- my choice and theirs- because we grew differently. Some decide to bonsai themselves, but I refuse. Some refuse to know themselves or be true with themselves. I can’t and won’t.

I look in the mirror and I know that I have changed so much and it is for the better. I am braver and kinder than ever before. I am bold. I am vibrant. I am honest and messy and overflowing with goodness. I am not perfect, but I don’t have to be. I have grown. I am still growing and still doing good. Life and I are both more beautiful for it. I pray that the kindness and good that I do echoes through eternity.

“The average age where a woman makes a career pivot is 39 to 42.”

“Oh you mean you don’t believe that old book written by goat herders before we discovered what germs were?!”

“ …let go of those old obligations. You do not have to live up to your fucking potential”.

“The price of deep sadness is deep joy…”

“Oh so gang signs were made to be viewed negatively so we wouldn’t use them” (re: mudras)

“and if we outside and you kill a bug minding its business, that’s all I need to know about you…”

and this whole thing:

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTyUyQQR1/

There is an evolution happening within me. The pain of so much loss really is transformative.

I don’t know if it is a cause or effect: my being reactionary or it being the proper reaction to the growth, but I have begun to assess & intentionally cull my relationships in the last few months.

Like anyone my age, I’ve had friendships and connections that have ended. Most of the time it feels natural and just part of the progression of life.

But lately, I’ve been intentional about pouring into those who pour into me. And removing myself and my energy and time from those who are unable or unwilling to reciprocate. I have too many good people who love me and care about me. My energy is precious. It is a gift. When you have a community that recognizes it, it is hard to accept anything less.

I bought myself a stuffed Stitch from Target like six years ago. I freaking loved it and slept with it every night for like a year. My little brother who was about eight at the time also loved it. He slept with it every time he came to my house. He mentioned how much he liked what a good cuddler it was & that it smelled like me. So I sent it home with him and ordered myself a replacement online.

Fast-forward to this week: he’s nearly 14, an angsty teenager going through puberty. Life looks different these days. I’m helping him clean his bedroom and I notice the Stitch sticking out from the edge of underneath his bed. I joke about it being abandoned on the floor. He says “Leave him there; I still sleep with him sometimes.” And my heart secretly swelled.

I’m raising him now. I’m no longer his favorite person in the whole world anymore. (Or at least it doesn’t feel like it most days.) That’s what happens when you shift from big sister to full-time sole parent. But in that moment, a small glimpse of the sweet baby boy that loved me so much peeked out and smiled at me. And I remembered who I am doing all of this for 💙

“I realized hating my body means hating another woman who shares this one”

It’s been complicated lately.

I met someone and it was like a matchstick (kinda).

She was kind-hearted, good intentioned, and intense. She was bold & deeply into me. But she was surrounded by drama. And she waved red flags early on… (I am catching them sooner this time!)

When I described her to my friends (& my therapist), based on her choices, they expected her to be in her twenties- not a year older than me. But she raised her brother after her mom died 10 years ago (relatable). And my mom died on her mom’s birthday (coincidence? turns out, yes). She was sooo interesting! And dating a trained chef sounds like a literal dream. Plus she was tall, cute, & had fantastic boobs. And did I mention that she was deeeeeeeply into me?!

But I cut it off around three weeks. We hadn’t even slept together yet. The red flags stacked up and honestly, deep in my gut, I felt ambivalent to it all. I enjoyed the attention. I thought she was nice enough and cute and I thought it would be good for me to finally move on.

But I couldn’t talk myself into it. It felt toxic early on and it didn’t feel good to my nervous system. I know what magic feels like. I can’t settle for less or I’d still be fucking men (which means I’m probably not getting laid anytime soon 😩).

And I haven’t slept with anyone since my ex 🫠 Maybe I just need a rebound… It’s more complicated now that I’m fully swearing off of men. Sex with women is so much more intimate. Or maybe I am not as over her as I wish I was. I don’t freaking know… Guess I’ll explore this more in therapy tomorrow 🥲

I have a tattoo of her portrait that is older than she lived to be.

It’s been 18 years. We were only 18 months apart.

She was 17 when she passed.

My witness for the first portion of my life was wiped out in an instant as quickly as a car wheel turns.