Emotional Bondage, ugh as if?!

Posted in Uncategorized on October 17, 2016 by Veronica Graham


Thomas the Train music is blaring through a small flat screen T.V. A toddler is playing with blocks and eating breakfast. Veronica, feeling content, sips her coffee.

I recognize this feeling, a clear head with no pollutants. I have had periods of success in life where I was super focused and sober, then WHAMMO! I fuck up. I’ve had series of spells where I’ve lost control of my emotions and targeted whomever was near and practically lived in fear afterward trying to make it up to them, at any cost to my self esteem. It happened a lot, so much that it was a part of me and people around me accepted it and took advantage of it. Oh yes, people love to capitalize on other peoples mistakes.

I worked with a makeup artist years ago who suggested that my problem was that I haven’t mastered my lessons in life and that God will present the same lesson to me until I get it. She worked with Eminem as a dancer or maybe she was just near him at a concert. I don’t remember but she definitely had my undivided attention after that name dropper and when I asked if I could touch her arm because she was near him, she let me. How cool is that?! Obvi- I didn’t take her advice but she had this unseen internal strength, Princess Diana style, and I wanted it and still do.


Finance and Emotion. If finance represents my father and emotion represents my mother, then the colliding of two extremes created my skewed reality of the two. Right?

sexWhen I was dating a special person who lived in New York I forked over the cost. I paid when I got there, I bought the coffee, the food, cooked, cleaned and was ok with it for awhile. I felt like I was in a episode of Sex in the City every time I travelled up North to be with him. I let my imagination run wild and ignored the red flags. I cared deeply for him and I compromised my entire financial stability to be with him. He never asked me to pay for everything but he sure as hell never tried to stop me. Did he have money? I don’t know. I do know that he didn’t have money for me. You catch my drift. Who doesn’t like gifts, free food and money?! I was so hooked on him that I had his account information saved at my bank and would transfer him money a time or two. I’ve blogged about him before. He was the actor-guy that was too cool for me to write about. YES! I was a fucking dip-shit paying for a man friend with benefits. I believed that if I treated him the way I wanted to be treated he would eventually do the same. It was an investment I was wiling to make because I believed the return would be doubled. Pffft.

When I was with Southern Gentleman, not once in the entirety of our relationship did he post a photo of us without me suggesting that it was done. I never made it to his profile pic but he made it to mine. He kept a partially nude photograph of himself as his profile pic for “networking” and I swept my feelings about it under the rug. narcHe sought his acceptance and love else where and emotionally abandoned me. I believed that we could get past the hurdles, remember? This too young to be a parent in your 20’s or have a job, or be emotionally tied to someone, or have boundaries, is just a fucking cop out. TOTAL. UTTER. BULL SHIT. It contributes to the Adult Child Syndrome that so many people, including myself have had to deal with. I may give social media the middle finger, but if you’re not mentioned in your partners news feed, little to no photos of the two of you together are current, no relationship status on fb (complicated is a cop out that suggests the other person is fishing elsewhere), no stupid fucking instagram photo of the two of you sharing a milkshake or fly fishing off the coast of Columbia, then “ YOU AIN’T THE ONE” and you need to cut the emotional ties of lies that you have created in your mind to that person. We are spirits in a media crazed world and social media is a part of our relationship goals now and forever, don’t even fake like it isn’t.


A revelation happened and Veronica was happy.

I spent 14 years living with a mother who complained about everything and the world was bsagainst her. No matter how many people tried to help her it wasn’t enough to satisfy her needs. Everyone was the bad guy, except for her. Even now she is still the victim. From as early as 5, I can remember her fits of rage and sadness. She was so beautiful and ugly at the same time. No ones basic needs were met under her roof because she couldn’t break free of her own emotional demons. Her selfishness and child like view of life made living with her hard to be a kid. She was talented but too focused on what she didn’t have. Trying to keep up with the Joneses made her nutty. There wasn’t room for me to have a bad day, a good day, or an OK day because I was being emotionally drained by her. Luckily, I have been able to break the curse and her manipulation tactics don’t work on me anymore. THANK ya’ very much, MA! I am finally able to utilize her manipulative ways to avoid others trying to sneak into my bubble today.

When I arrived to my fathers neck of the woods I was expected to be grateful and appreciative of the value of a dollar, understand and apply the benefits of hard work to schooling and know the significant difference between dollar store brand clothing and designer brand. I didn’t. I barely had any life skills, let alone an understanding that my father was well off because of his work ethic in business. I was left to my own and was shamed when I didn’t perform like I was expected. I lived in a fancy cluelsslittle neighborhood with a fancy little car and was clueless. Eventually, I found solace with friends who made me feel comfortable. It was a rowdy crowd but that’s where I felt accepted and later rejected for being too crazy, as if?! My father and I have an understanding now and I understand the value of a dollar. All that he gave me growing up wasn’t meant to be interpreted that that’s how you show people love. I literally just didn’t have anything when I moved in with him and parents are supposed to care for their children in more ways than just popping them out. I have also learned that leather seats in a car are better than fabric, investments should only be made in the stock market (not people), Bose have the best speakers and the dollar store is great for everything else.


Everyone has their own cross to bear. No one gets a free pass to avoidance of life’s bull shit. Remember, bad things happen to good people and good things happen to bad people.



Lift me UP!

Posted in Uncategorized on October 13, 2016 by Veronica Graham

brForgive, forget and move on. Yeah ok. I’m the type who says they forgive but really it’s just another word that I try to understand. I say I forget until I remember. All these recent lessons in life make it sound like I have seen the light but realistically it’s more like a sparkler with a limited time span. Mostly, I’m just a little bitter and still trying to cope with being back in my hometown. I read God’s Promises about anger and got angrier. I pray and then yell, cry, pray some more and wonder if I’m praying correctly? Are you allowed to yell at God?  Does God have enough modern listening skills to hear me or do I need to contact Jesus through prayer and then he can forward my messages? Furthermore, do I really need to go to church?! Christianity in America is like a fucking Baskin Robbins and we all know that no one can pick one flavor, for all of eternity.

I started reading the Bible back in 2013 almost entirely out of spite. Honestly, you need a bottle of Ascarface-remake-directordvil to sit through an Evangelicals sermon and a Red Bull to sit in the pew of the others. Currently, I’m in the book of Psalms and its been a painful read from… In the Beginning. After 18 chapters deep God seems less unicorns and bunnies and more anti-government and pro-disturbing the peace. My interpretation of what I have read puts him on a whole nother level of gangster. I’m still in the Old Testament but I think Jesus is going to be a lot more chill than God. God seems kinda like a mob boss and if it wasn’t for a select few who prayed in previous chapters to keep his people safe he would’ve gone scarface on muthas.

The most satisfying part of reading the Old Testament is what I have found by reading ‘Understanding the Old Testament’ by the late Bernhard W. Anderson. I stumbled upon his wealth of knowledge after a brief conversation book-dustwith my Dad. After spewing off all my contempt for the church he handed me this book from his personal collection and that ended my rant. He is truly a man of limited words. I must say I was pretty impressed by how he diffused my nuttiness. This super old book still has that old library smell oozing out of its pages. My brain swells up when I think to0 hard so in my newness of understanding the Bible most of this entry is just me babylon…

Everyday living used to feel like a whirlwind. I was in constant survival mode emotionally and it was exhausting. Living in my own skin was literally unbearable until I became a parent. I couldn’t find my voice and am still searching… It’s not a bad place to be, just an interesting place. Finding stillness in the hustle and bustle and acceptance of where I am is an on going process. However, how long am I going to hold onto the past? When can I truly forgive, forget and move on.


Valley of Wasps

Posted in Uncategorized on July 16, 2016 by Veronica Graham

waspYea though I walk through the valley of the wasps, I will not fear its sting because Thou art with me, Thou hast a fly swatter to the right and Raid to the left of me, trying to help a baby mama out! Praise be to God.

With tears in my eyes, the only relief I can feel other than running a mile is praying and writing. I have a time line to get shit together financially and its like aaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh! SG just dropped the ball on something that we had a verbal agreement on. Go figure. If only this, if only that, you know the mantra. I feel like how Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz must have felt when she stared down the hour glass in the wicked witches castle, wondering how the fuck she was going to think her way out of her nightmare.

How did it get to this point? Why didn’t I walk away in the beginning when I new SG wasn’t the one, why did I hold on? Why was I so convinced I could make someone want me who didn’t and why did he spin me for a loop and convince me that I was the one and that we could make it work? I recall sitting in therapy shortly after our little one was born and him stating that he didn’t want to be with me. It was a gut wrenching blow to me because it was the first time he was honest about us. The way he said it was so matter of fact and cold. After that session the “I love you’s” between us stopped. I put my blinders back on and continued to focus on my child.  WOZ

I truly believed that SG and I could co exist. Arranged marriages do work and the idea of two strangers being thrown into parenthood and a relationship is not crazy. This was how I was able to justify our situation. Although we lived together it was completely over for him. I felt that SG was with me out of convenience, similar to a lot of relationships I have had.

When our lease was up in Summer of 2015, I made a deal with SG on our way to Georgia. I asked him for 6 months to allow me to network and then we could split and live separately. He was from Georgia and had a network there. Our lease was already signed for the new place and I couldn’t bring myself to let go of him completely. Georgia has a huge film industry, affordable living and I felt that I was making the right decision. I figured that no matter what happened between SG and I, I would still be able to provide a comfortable life for my little one and somehow I could manage to create a healthy environment for our child, with both parents in the picture. EPIC FAIL. Two weeks after we moved into our new place he was out the door and not without making my life a living hell. No matter how many times I willingly looked the other way or even tried to deny his affairs; I effortlessly caught him in lies because of how bold his actions were.

I was in auto pilot and just kept going thinking that I could handle being a new mom in a new town with zero friends. My Godmother lived on the North side of Atlanta and I wasn’t entirely alone, thank God for her. We chose to live on the South side of ATL to be closer to SG’s family. SG was so convincing that he would give me time and support, he was a great actor on and off screen, in addition to being a fitness model. His entire family seemed like simple, small town folk with heart. The Southern Charm wore out quickly once I got on their turf. Their gloves came off smooth as honey when they realized that I wasn’t going to just shut up and let this egocentric man hurt me any longer. It took me moving to Georgia to finally see this guy for who he was showing me he was. It was the day after Father’s Day that I got my balls back and chose to be a single mom.

We just finished spending a lovely Father’s Day with his family and we were getting along that day. On our way home that evening I was extremely exhausted and he said he needed to run some errands and would clean out the car. Traveling light doesn’t exist in my book and I appreciated his efforts to help.  I put the little one down and went to bed myself. The next morning was a slow motion playback of a previous incident we had in VA. I found him passed out on the floor with an empty bottle of red wine spilled everywhere. He, the bottle and his half empty klonopin bottle looked like a crime scene. It got worse once he woke up. Luckily, in midst of a heated argument my little one slept peacefully.

I had to call someone…Remember Hazel from previous blog entires? Well, she finally got me back, in her own way. While I was on the patio frantically asking Hazel what to do, SG walks up to me while I was in mid convo and placed his phone in my eye line of what appeared to be a thread of messages between he and Hazel. In my weakness he found a way to make my pain sear like a filet. I read the messages, snapped on Hazel and hung up. Hazel is an old school ho, the kind of woman that will buy your kid an outfit, be their for you and stays real close to your man faking like she’s only trying to ease drop on him for you. Watch out for the clean cut ho’s! (that’s another entry in itself). I wrote it off as bad karma on my end….Let me help another baby mama real quick, stay away from your undercover-clean-cut- ho-gal-pals especially when there you’re homegirl from way back when Guess jeans were cool.cryface

In the eye of the storm it dawned on me that I was bearing the brunt of this guys pain, whatever it was. People who go out of their way to hurt you are hurting themselves. I realized that he would keep dishing it until I broke. I did break. I fell hard and wept with an ugly cry face. I realized that I was in over my head, big time and I had 11 more months to go in the South. I needed to pray like I’d never prayed before because it wasn’t just about me. I had to do right by my child and not hold on to a heartless man.



There has always been a wasp in my life waiting around the corner and I feel like they have always struck at the best times and even now as I am writing SG has struck again from the Dirty South. Thankfully, I am back on somewhat solid ground in Virginia. All the wake up calls I’ve had the past year are exhausting. It’s been a never ending cycle of letting go and moving forward and it’s still going……………

But, But, But, I’m a BAD ASS…

Posted in Uncategorized on June 30, 2016 by Veronica Graham

I have experienced a lot in the past few years and plan to share it with readers. I want to help others in my own weird way and give pointers on things that I’ve learned and continue to learn. Freethinking and grammar mistakes are a part of my process. If the flow of my writing irritates you, if its too choppy, too crass, too righteous, too whatever, that’s on you. I cannot control how you feel. However, if you happen to be the Editor in Chief of a publishing company with a handsome book deal… I might be willing to sell out my bad ass persona and enroll into an English class.

gods-hands-holding-childSouthern Gentleman and I knew that our baby was our gift from God and a chance to be the parents we always hoped we had. I believe that all new parents in some way or another, feel that they can do a better parenting job then their own parents. SG and I chose to walk hand and hand into a family with no previous relationship, why not? He gladly moved back to Virginia to be with me and I was receiving help from the government with pre-natal care (Thanks Uncle Sam!) and working.

Industry folk gave me as much work as possible and I was fortunate for the continued support I was receiving from my own family. The struggle is real and I’m eternally grateful to those who booked me while I was pregnant. Can you imagine a 7 month pregnant lady bending over to create a knife stabbing scene?! It was a sight, to say the least.

preggerOur families gave us two thumbs up, multiple baby showers and other gifts to help us make it. We had all the tools to be a power house but no foundation as a couple. I was literally living with a hot co-worker that I barely knew. The age difference wasn’t a problem (I’m not the most mature person) and we thought we could build a relationship along the way. We were playing house. I loved it. I really did. I took the whole mommy-wifey role very seriously. I was faithful to a fault. I thought I could will it to work and dammed if I didn’t try.

SG and I hoped to utilize the help we were receiving to launch us into the world as a family. He stayed with a mutual friend of ours upon returning to Virginia and I was renting a room near Pleasantville…(Kimmie and I went our separate ways permanently February 2013). In December of 2013, I moved in with SG and our mutual friend. He and I were already having problems but it was such a new experience for the both of us that I gladly swept all the bullshit under the rug. We lived with our friend, who generously opened their home to us until May of 2014. Luckily, we were approved for our own apartment before the birth of boo boo.

After a year and a half of living together in Virginia we both decided that a geographical relocation was a great idea. We didn’t see eye to eye on what it meant to be a couple. However, as parents it seemed we had the same views. Then again, maybe SG just ‘yassed’ me to death to keep me quiet.  The three of us did a lot together, we travelled for work, attended a church, worked out together, planned family outings and more. The outside appearance seemed to look great but behind the scenes we were unravelling fast. After a series of outbursts I started to realize I was the only one who wanted us to make it. Bummer. My picture perfect image of a family was fading and quite fast. I wasn’t any better than my own parents (harsh truth). Me being me, I moved to Georgia with Southern Gentleman. I ignored the small whisper that is either Jiminy Cricket or the infamous Holy Spirit telling me ‘Don’t Do IT’.

I thought I was tough shit and my Southern Gentleman had all the answers I needed to hear. He has a way of saying all the right things, in any circumstance. He fits into any mold easily and at times he seemed to be genuinely happy with his choice to be in my life. For the record, I gave Mr. Southern Gentleman an out when I decided I was going to be a mother, but he was adamant about being in my life. There are lots of single parents but you know, I always wanted a family so I was happy that he wanted to stay with me. By no means was I trapping this dude, so don’t start thinking negative shit about me. I had all my ducks in an unbalanced row and didn’t want to be with someone for the 100,000,000 time that didn’t want to be with me. He said he wanted to be with me and have a family, naturally I believed him.

Moving to Georgia after our cherub’s first birthday was my last attempt to turn my dreams with SG into a reality. Or maybe it was my last attempt to try to hold on to someone that I believed loved me, who knows at this point? This was the grand finale and I was the fat lady singing. I literally thought I could waltz into a production office with my resume, get a job, have a man, be a supermom and spin miracles in The Empire State of the South. Going against my inner voice, I gladly entered into what turned out to be my ‘Moses in the Desert’ experience.


uncle samDon’t ever look down on a person using food stamps or receiving Medicaid from the government. Without the prenatal care I received and classes I attended on how to be a mother, breast feed and take care of myself; I wouldn’t have survived. It is insanely hurtful when a cashier shames you for accepting help for food. I learned to get over the looks and at times snapped on a fool. I talked shit and judged women back in the day so don’t feel sorry for me. I now know that the struggle is real and am a better person, after being knocked off my pedestal.

The Stork and the Womb

Posted in Uncategorized on June 26, 2016 by Veronica Graham

Sitting on a bench wondering where this three tier cake of a stomach came while reflecting on what being a size zero shopping at 579… Aww, look at Pumpkin-Spice-Latte-FFthem, the cute girl that’s nuzzling her face into the chest of her lover, the unsuspecting hand holding of the couple behind me, that weird guy that always holds the door to the coffee shop, peeps taking photos with a Nixon thats too advanced for them, old goats walking with canes and of course… The married couple with gremlins latched onto their calves and cheerios, everywhere. I can smell Fall around the corner
(the pumpkin spice latte was a give a way). It’s 2013 and I’ve wrapped with a production and just got my license back. After breaking the law a couple times in a row the fuzz took it away for a while. I was able to use the BMW though… Bus-Metro-Walk. (DON’T test a cop, you will lose). I had one of the best summer vacations in the Outer Banks with a girlfriend in the biz and I snuck in a sporadic-solo-road trip to Greensboro, NC to meet a man-friend… Being on the road felt good, it felt damn good.

While FB stalking my Southern Gentleman (SG for short) one night I realized how much I missed him, he decided that moving back to Georgia after a bad business deal was best for him (the industry is full of bad deals and if you’ve never been fucked over then you’re not legit). After our online chatting we devised a plan to meet half way, between Virginia and Georgia to have one night together… No pressure for a relationship, right?!

Fast forward to a couple weeks after the damn- good- solo-road trip:

With what seemed to be my third pregnancy test while sitting in the stall of a grimy restaurant I was working in, my legs went numb once the test read positive, again. I don’t know why I had to use more than one, it’s just what I do.  I left from my shift and headed home.  My instinct had already led on that I had a bun in the oven but you know, I’m not psychic and the truth usually takes awhile to set in with me. Scared, shocked and alone I called my sister for support, not such a good idea but whatever. She met me at my place with a smile and hands filled with leslie mannPopeye’s, Peruvian food and the “look”. You know the look I’m talking about, the half assed I am not judging but really am judging you look. I thumbed through my dvd’s and we sat in silence. 17 Again, great movie, seemed fitting, Leslie Mann is the greatest. As I start to unravel the details lil sis proceeds to eat all the food, sympathy pain I guess.

What seemed like a sleepless night turned into a sleepless morning of waiting in a women’s clinic to get the official low down. After filling out paper work I was asked to dish out 120. Man, not having insurance sucked. I rarely get sick so it wasn’t a priority of mine at the time. After all, according to an Ex-Irish boss I once had, I was a “Work Harse” and that translates into a person who is unstoppable. My first journey down this path wasn’t picturesque… Now I have the chance to chose a different path. Come hell or high water I was having my baby! Why was the receptionist tapping her pencil so loudly? It still irritates me years later. In my uneducated opinion,  all women’s clinics feel like hells waiting room.

The doc walks in and asks the usual, I tell her the truth about my situation. She raises an eyebrow an assures me that everything will be ok and she can determine who’s it is based on the dates I’ve given. Laying back onto the table she does what she does and shows me a picture of the baby. I was 4 weeks pregnant at the time. She prints a picture, tells me to get dressed and leaves. Thats it!  I thought. I stared at the photo dazed and confused of what looked like a kidney bean. When the doctor returned she assured me that my Southern Gentlemen was the father.

Oh shit! Finding out you’re pregnant with someone you’re in love with is awesome. Finding out you’re pregnant with your husband of 5 years is fantastic. Finding out you’re pregnant by a model who’s 10 years younger than you is what happened to me. We started as friends who worked on a lot of sets together and now, well, that’s another entry…

Walking in a haze to my car I saw one of those asshole dudes holding a sign stating that abortion kills, It sure does Captain Obvious! What’s up with people these days? For fuck sake you don’t have to agree with peoples lifestyles but you sure as hell should respect their rights as individuals and mind your own business. If you’re not part of the solution then don’t be part of the problem. You gotta get your facts straight if you wanna be the pied piper!pied-piper-art


Children have a way of teaching you how to be selfless, wake up with a sense of purpose and not just living for the moment. I can see it now… I will be sitting on the beach one day and my little boo boo will look at me and say thanks for choosing life you crazy lady, now get me a snow cone, a hermit crab with one of those cool cages and charge my iPhone25, okay MA!

Guess who’s Back?!

Posted in Uncategorized on May 1, 2016 by Veronica Graham

My slutty antics and need for redemption led to the upheaval of my past publicly in 2011. I was a certified ho and not proud of it. I ripped through a year of pain and shame with a smile. Now I am 34, slightly wiser and have a fat stack of pent up stories itching away at my brain to be voiced. closedTo recap the past few years in one entry is not my style, so much has happened that has shaped me into the fighter I now know that I am.

I recently read through the past entries and saw something that I hadn’t noticed in the thick of it. If you let people tell you who you are and what you are then you are not living to YOUR full potential. I let people define and shape who I thought I was. I let sex turn from a loving bond into a shameless need for affection. I was a raw and damaged adult-child who idolized the select few I held close to my heart. “If you live for peoples acceptance than you will die by their criticism.” This phrase pierced to the core of me. I accept that I was broken and looking for love in ALL the wrong places.

SOooo much time was wasted looking toward someone to throw me a bone and save me! Yeesh, how sad. I had received all the therapy money could buy, gone to countless AA meetings with a fair amount of leaps off the wagon in between. I still didn’t get that I truly needed a higher power. I was a lot of talk and no action. What I did know was that the more I focused inward the more I felt like shit. I was making money, my career was poppin’, and I looked damn good doing it with the help of botox and bleach. I was still incredibly lonely and felt completely empty and lifeless. My exterior didn’t match the inside and shortly after the last entry in 2012, I slowly fell into my old selfish ways.

I was doomed, or so I thought…

SJWhat brought me to me knees wasn’t the loss of my friendships, self respect or families approval. I became pregnant in 2013 and it was the biggest blessing I have ever had bestowed upon me. I began to beg God to help me help myself. In that moment of pure weakness I knew what it meant to be powerless. I was bringing a new, precious life into the world as an unmarried, single washed-up woman and was scared shitless. What I was experiencing was divine muthafuckin’ intervention and luckily I was able to get my head screwed on straight, well straight enough.

If talents are God given, no man can hide its light.






LAST ENTRY: “How to Turn a Ho into a Housewife”

Posted in Uncategorized on April 20, 2012 by Veronica Graham

When I started this blog a year ago, I was desperate to find love.  I was about to go have sex with Arab Prince after things had gone south with Latino Hot Lips.  I was approaching 30 and single, with no husband anywhere in sight.  I had fucked Northern Virginia, Southern Maryland, and the Northwest Sector of DC.  I realized I had a problem with how I treated sex.  I was looking for love through sex and a whole lot of it.  A year later…  I broke things off with my man-friend and I’m single once again.

Good.  I’m happy.  Fuck it.

I am currently three months sober (almost, Cinco de Mayo will be my three month mark.)  It was a rough start, but I haven’t been able to think this clear in… well, ever.  No alcohol, no weed, no coke, no pills, nothing.  Only an ungodly amount of caffeine and cigarettes.  It’s funny that at the end of this journey I have NO Man, a GREAT job, GREAT Friends, NO substances, and a little sex.  Yes, I’ve had a LITTLE sex this year- not the 365 days of pure celibacy, but I did “slipped up” in September with Mr. Nice and the Pathological Liar (Looking back it must have been a desperate attempt to hang onto 29) and I did have sex when I entered a relationship at the last stretch of this journey.

I see now that sex was not the issue (Okay, so I shouldn’t have been such a SLUT) but my issues delved much deeper than just sex.  In the very few things I can control in my life, alcohol was one I realized I needed to give up.  The hard days at work and the occasional heartbreak made me realize even more how unhealthy my relationship with drugs and alcohol was- so I joined AA and NA, kicked the booze and drugs and I can see things clearly now- well, a lot clearer anyway.


I think about when Kimmie and I were first friends.  In my memory, we were fast friends, going out, enjoying our youth, and the men- er, boys- that would pop in and out of our lives.  The truth is, we weren’t fast friends.  It took a lot of time before we were hanging out on a regular basis and an even longer time before we were truly enjoying our singledom as the awesome twosome we were.  This is the longest and healthiest relationship I’ve been in.  Why is it that I expected things with men to be different?  I’ve dove in head first, proclaiming that this (insert guy’s name) IS the ONE, and therefore, must spend every moment and share every detail about myself with this person.  He’s the ONE, after all.  Well… In my giant lineup of men, I’ve had many Ones. The Arab Prince, Latino Hot Lips, Iago, Rich-Married-Man, Pathological Liar, High-School-Sweetheart, Homeless Hottie, One-Night-Film-Geek, Work-Crush, and Mr. Nice.  Yes- with every last one of them, there was a little part of me that believed that they were the ONE.

So, how do you turn a Ho into a Housewife?  Despite my love for sex, I am no longer a Ho and I’m no where near a housewife.  The thing is, I’m not sure I’ll ever be a housewife- truly, anyway.  I’m not sure I’ll ever be married, ever have children, or any of that.  Kimmie disagrees, she thinks I’m still bound to run into the guy that will be my future husband… but does stress how little things are in our control.  If there really is this chosen someone in the future for me, then I don’t have to TRY to make any of these guys the One… Eventually, One will get down on bended knee and be it.


Looking for Mr. Right gets you nowhere but heartbroken with all your expectations unmet.  Mr. Right Now is so much easier to find.  If life is about moments to moments and life is short and all those other quotes people read in order to motivate themselves to feel young and do spontaneous things, then why are we running full speed in order to eventually hit a plateau and have things slow down and settle?  Why are we ignoring the moment and living in the future?  Mr. Right Now is someone you can have a fantastic evening with, maybe some good conversations, and that’s it.  Or not- Mr. Right Now can develop into a great friend along with a steady bang.  If very little is in my control, like someone else’s heart or will, then eventually ONE of these Mr. Right Nows will become Mr. Right– naturally.

There’s this really lame saying that goes something like, “If you love someone let them go, if they never come back, they were never yours.”  I’m not looking at this in a romantic way, but in life in general- with all my relationships.  I think about friendships and how they tend to naturally develop… the reason being is that there is no expectation early on that this friend will brand “BFF” on their ass within the first few months of knowing me.  It always starts with enjoying the company of that person, then enjoying the company a lot more, go through trials, figure one another out (buttons and what not), and learning how to deal with one another to better enjoy one another’s company.  Before you know it, you have a pretty damn good friend.

I’m not sure where in my twisted logic I thought being in a relationship with a man would be different.  It’s a natural progression and it will take time and it will happen without me trying to force it.


I have ruined 100% of my relationships with expectations.  I expected Arab Prince to make me his girlfriend because I was sleeping with him… he never gave me any reason to have that expectation, but still, I expected it and when it didn’t happen I would cry and make him very confused and uncomfortable.  I expected Rich-Married-Man to leave his wife and marry me:  There were no divorce papers, he didn’t have a diamond ring on my finger… there was no solid reason for me to have that expectation- but yet, I did in my fucked up fantasy head in the world of “How Things SHOULD Be” and when my expectations didn’t happen, it was all his fault and I was just the innocent victim in his infidelity.  Ugh, it’s gross just thinking about it.  The expectations are gross.

Expectations are fucked up.  It’s a fucked up thing to do to someone else when it’s not warranted.

No Diamond ring = No Expectation of Marriage (crazy, huh?)
No “I’ll call you tonight” = No Expectation of Phone Call.
No “I really want to give this a shot and I think we should be exclusive” = No Expectation of being his Girlfriend.

Don’t get me wrong- this goes both ways.  I don’t expect random-hookup to be my next boyfriend and he should not be expecting me to be his next girlfriend.  Guys are guilty of this too.  It’s just we girls tend to be expectations whores a whole lot more than men– we’re constantly expecting ourselves crazy until we lash out on these poor unassuming guys.  We use our expectations to back up our insanity.


“One Day at a Time.”

With Alcohol, With Drugs, and with People.

I love my work and spend so much energy there, I can’t and I won’t spend anymore energy on men and on finding the One.  If it’s in the cards for me, he’ll be out there and I think I’ll find him just fine by focusing on enjoying each day with him… One day at a time.

At this point I don’t feel the need to write anymore as I am vowing to “Let go.”  That includes resentments, my past, and my expectations.  I have nothing more to say other than Thank You for everyone who has been there for me.  This blog has changed my life:  Not in the way that I originally planned, (I thought I’d be with the guy I’d be married to at the end of this), but in a better way.  I’m better for this blog, I became sober out of it and I’m happier living each day.

Here’s to NO MORE DAYS, Veronica Graham, This Ho is just fine not being a damn Housewife.