A Better Frequency

If love were as green and easy as eating a scoop of ice cream, we’d all be in a glossy-eyed state of jaded bliss. Love takes work, faith, maturity, courage, and a lot of other branched out things.

I was actually worried about the weight thing. I think my friends were upset as I was about the weight thing. I was sitting there, thinking that I was going to have to risk my relationship to be healthy. I was mad with a stress headache, upset that I was going to lose my man. Confused that if he loved me as he said he did, then why would my losing weight be unattractive? I know he likes bigger women, but I don’t intend on being as big as I am now for the rest of my life. It’s already hard enough for me to find shoes that fit. Yay, cankles.

So, we talked.

At first, I didn’t even want to. He asked me about the text I sent, which collided with mushy feelings he wanted to express. So that got put on hold. What I didn’t like was that he kind of didn’t respond for half a day, but, whatever. Independence Day. He asked about it, and at first I just said let’s not, because I decided that I had to be selfish on that. My health determines whether or not I’m actually here to be loved. I decided that instead of asking, I was going to do. If the chips fell, and people couldn’t handle it, maybe it wasn’t meant to be.

I told him how I felt. I pretty much said that instead of asking, I was going to do. I would hate to risk things, but my parts are sums of my existence. There’s more to me than parts. The love should be there. He’s telling me he’s worried I’m going to “get Nia Long super skinny”, and I’m squinting like….no. 145-150 is my goal range. And I’ll still be curvaceous with the perks of what he likes about me. But I don’t intend on being some kind of nutty gym rat who drinks smoothies from a bowl. What I want to do is incorporate better habits and lots of movement into my life. I want a natural, happy experience.

I don’t know what kind of experience he went through, but I don’t plan on losing my head or myself in a sea of vanity. I’m conceited and a little self-absorbed now, and people have a problem with that. I mean…I spent all my teen and tween years sitting in the corner all sad and moused up. I want to sing the body electric and celebrate the me yet to come, damn it. I am 31, and I’m seeing a lot of things in my life with a greater clarity than I thought I ever possibly could. I want to live as much of that as possible with my mate, and myself.

I think he understood, and hope he found assurance. I don’t know if he lost someone because of that, but the only think I can think of that would make me leave is if he cheated on me. That’s an automatic game over.

Then he goes deeper.

The idea of cohabitation attracts him. How he hated how the month was over before it got good, how I took care of his house…and him. He liked that feeling, and starts telling me what I can do to help with my part of the rent. It’s all music to my ears, and I find myself missing the noise of his open-mouthed snoring, and the way he looks when he’s deep in thought. I miss the itch of his facial hair against my face, and the warmth I feel when he takes me to one of his special places. I feel myself itching closer to the idea that life without him is not worth it. I can’t live without him.

Yes, he gets on my nerves sometimes. We confuse each other, we have long talks to find clarity….

But he’s teaching me about accountability and the razor sharpness of the world, while I would like to think I show him tenderness and the coolness. And I think with time and polishing, we could be great.

I knew I loved him long before he did, and accidentally said it. I felt love because he gave me concentrated hope and a different way to see things. He has given me the ability to find grounding on shaky terrain. Despite my wacko shortcomings, he has faith in me. He wants a life with me, and is willing to help me step up to get there.

Where has he been all my life?

It’s so hard to stay mad at him, because we talk things out. We figure things out. I write to get shit out, but for the most part we talk. (Sometimes bark and bite)

When the smoke cleared, I felt better. When he told me he wanted me there, so many things rushed through me. Warmth, happiness, ambition.

I want to pull my weight, of course, but to be in paradise with him and not have to go back to Paris (TN) or Chicago….I would be so happy. Starting a life with him would be absolutely amazing. I’ll take whatever job I can get to support the effort.

That’s a wacky scene change, I know. It really was, but the way he understood me as soon as I laid it all out sort of made the transition. As soon as we left that topic, he began expressing just how much he wanted a life with me. I know that was the answer to my question if I mean more to him than…what I am. I mean, I know he’s got a type. I also know that sometimes people use you and sort of target you.

When A was telling me he wanted me to live with him, and that he wouldn’t mind if I had a part-time job, I realized that yes…this man is nuts about me. It’s more than what he did for me when I came to visit–he wants me around permanently. He wants to make a little love nest with me, and not these now and then trips when we can see each other for a week or a month at a time.

When we moved on to that topic, he talked to me in such a way that let me know that I mean a lot to him. And even with crazy debt, he wants an “I” to be come “us”. I sat there, spinning, thanking the universe and myself for being patient. Sad, yes. Depressed sometimes, yes. But never truly giving up on love. And even if I lose it all tomorrow (PLEASE NO), I will have loved and been loved. I waited, I suffered, I felt like no one would or could ever love me…

Then he comes along.

Here’s love, snark, friendship, GOOD AND AMAZING SEXOLA HOLY CRAP, nerdship, Blerdship, good political talk….razor sharpness….but the maturity and reliability I’d been asking for and praying for all along.

It’s….odd sometimes, but it’s pretty damn great most of the time.


Mixed Signals

I know he likes big women. I know he has been with bigger women than me. He can’t shut up about that part when it comes up. Still, knowing that I could lose him just because I want to lose 60 pounds and keep going until I am 150 pounds….that hurts. And this is what he has said to me. He will no longer be attracted, and that he wants me big. “We will find a happy medium”.

I don’t want that.

I mean, yes I said I was his and my body was his. But consider the context of that. Spiritually, as partners. Physically, as lovers. I’m still in charge of my body. I want to be healthy so that we can have kids. So that I can live my best life, not tied down to asthma or gout. So that I can feel better about myself. Sometimes I feel great, sometimes I do not. This is a personal battle, but now I have to consider the fact that I could lose this guy, because “one of the reasons” he chose to be with me is because I’m big and tightly stacked?

The fact that I’m kind, funny, passionate, wacky, and full of empathy means nothing? The fact that I’d do anything to love, honor, and protect means nothing? The fact that I took a chance to be with him, despite the distance….means nothing? If I lose weight, it’s all over?

I guess this confuses me, because at the same time my weight and physical ability has been commented on by him. He didn’t believe me when I said I had an asthma attack going up that huge hill to take out the garbage. Granted it was good exercise, I could have passed out. His nonchalant response was to get over it and do that one little thing he asked…even if it was uncomfortable. Then he laughs and jokes about me being allergic to healthy food because certain granola (the one in KIND bars and Honey Bunches of Oats) makes me itch. THAT HURT. I love fruits and veggies. He kept joking about that, but got hurt when I quipped about him thinking he was a guru because he works out.

At one point he even talked about wanting to see me healthier. But when I talk about direct goals? Oh no. That’s too much. Why should I stay obese? Because nobody else could possibly want me? Because if I’m fat, I won’t go anywhere? And although he told me my long profile is what attracted him, and he wouldn’t have done all he did thus far if he didn’t love me….

The weight loss comments have me screwed up.

I want to lose weight.

How is that a threat or a risk to our relationship? If we are really in love here, none of that should matter. Me losing weight to be a steady 145 or 150 should not be an issue.

If you love me for me, and not for what I look like.



Vital Information For Yo Romantic Life

Listen to Roni.

Stop. Talking. About. Other. Partners.

I don’t want to just say “other women”, because there are lots of relationships out there with people who identify as a certain gender, or do not identify at all. But in my case, it’s other women. I’m tired of it. I get that conversation takes two people to work the back n forth, but the last thing I want to hear about is some other chick and what she did/who she was.

This is the Roni show. You tuned in to experience life with me. If I’m tuned to the Partner I Chose show, extend the respect. I don’t. Want to hear. What some other woman. Would have done. In my situation.

I don’t!


I don’t want to hear about how limber she was, as I’ve told you I feel like my weight is holding me back in some ways. That’s why I joined Jenny frickin’ Craig. I want to lose weight. I want to be as limber as I was when I was younger and smaller. I DON’T care that she was bigger and she could do it all.

She ain’t me.

You’re no longer tuned to her channel. Unsubscribe.

I don’t want to hear about how some other chick was able to take pills. Or that she took a bunch a day. WHATEVA. I don’t swallow them well. I always have to hide them in something to swallow them. I need pills for very few things. Her story isn’t helping.

She ain’t me.

You’re no longer speaking, right? Why’s she on your mind?

My thing is this–I don’t feel comfortable hearing about other people in this way. It’s different from sex stories and things that help me understand what I need to do to show you I am a caring partner, and not a total harpy. It’s different from things that help me learn why maybe you might be cynical, uneasy, or closed off about certain things. It’s different, because those things are relevant.

If I’m exposing a part of myself to you, that is not an open moment to tell me about someone who is able, someone who might be better, or someone who just is different. If they are all in the past, what are they doing in the future? What does this have to do with anything else?

The rub is that this is indeed insecurity. I can own up to that. It makes me uncomfortable, because I already feel like I’m this super different, super young idiot who hasn’t been in a relationship in about 9 years. I’m trying to not be so rusty as a sensual, easy going, all in wit the flow kind of chick. I will always do my own thing and be myself, but I’m trying to be a decent girlfriend. I am not a put together person. I am 31 and still feel like I am stuck in my 2os sometimes.

Hearing examples from these women, who at some point made the cut and probably had jobs and lives and their own apartments…..

….and I’m just trying not to get into argument 900 with this outspoken guy….

….and I want to be happy on a fair, even playing field.

Is this just my crazy ass, or is constantly hearing about other people in irrelevant situations just truly annoying?


I’m insecure and trying to live and be strong.

Have understanding.