My Mama Said…

My mom used to always say, “You better stop thinking fat meat ain’t greasy.” At the time I was a child so it didn’t resinate with me until much later in life. That “later” happens to be now. Karma, meet Kenneth. Karma has a way of finding people who need it most. People, like myself, who has made questionable life decisions since my early youth in Chicago. Ironically, Karma hasn’t kept me from obtaining or accomplishing many of my life goals. In fact, since my junior year of high school, I’d venture to say l’ve lived a pretty solid life. I graduated high school, college, and have had the luxury of working for some of the biggest companies in the world. You’re probably curious about the Karma I’m referring to. That Karma is a successful relationship.

As an adolescent and mostly into my adulthood, I haven’t had much experience being around healthy and successful relationships. Love was always a foreign concept to me. I didn’t grow up in a household where love was expressed. It was actually the opposite. My birth mother (as I was informally adopted in high school by my English teacher), never married. My sister and I had a plethora of step dads who frequently brought toxic baggage into relationships with my mom. We did have one solid step dad growing up, but my mom was so mentally fucked up, she drove him away and into a relationship with another woman.

I bounced around from family member to family member for years and still never witnessed committed relationships or marriage. Talking about feelings wasn’t something we ever did. I took all those negative feelings and suppressed them in an internal vault. I had a difficult time talking to anyone about things that weren’t surface level. But then I met Emily.

Emily and I met in college. We dated while I was in college, broke up after I graduated, got back together some time after I joined the Army, and would eventually marry. Emily would be the ideal woman for just about any man. She’s intelligent, a great mother, has a successful career, and has been the most consistent person in my life since I was 19 years old. Unfortunately, I didn’t know how to love her properly. I will spare the details, but will admit she put up with an astronomical amount of bullshit caused by me. She wasn’t able to empathize with all of the things I’d gone through until that point, but she was supportive and never lacked sympathy. She understood I was troubled and did everything in her power to be the one person that didn’t walk out of my life. She’s one of those women who are loyal to a fault. I mean that in the most positive way possible. Even after all the craziness she’s endured dealing with me, we’ve somehow remained friends. Our son is probably the biggest anchor to our friendship, as our coparenting is top notch.

After Emily and I ended our marriage, I finally decided to seek the help I knew I needed. I went through months of therapy, anti-depressants, and building healthy habits to cope with trauma and codependency. Fast forward to today, February of 2022, and I’m finally in a place, mentally, to finally give my all to someone. I am mentally and physically fit, have a good career making good money, take care of my responsibilities as a father and now have the ability to be vulnerable. But for some reason, I’m still struggling finding a companion. Things go great with someone for a bit and then shit falls apart. I feel like I’m doing everything right; the flowers, the texts, the dates, being vulnerable, and making the person feel like a priority. I check off the boxes but often end up feeling like my efforts are useless. Eventually, the texts become shorter. The consistency and effort from the other person just disappears. The promising feeling of thinking i’ve met the right person eventually leaves me questioning where things went wrong. Then I think of what my mom told me.

Karma. I can’t help but feel like I have to experience the shit I put out into the universe. Being a dog has its consequences. No matter when you decide to turn things around, shit will still come full circle. Feeling the way I made Emily (and others) feel has been a shitty, yet humbling experience. It just goes to show that even when you do get your shit together, you have to pay your dues. Thankfully, I’ve been able to admit a lot of my faults and have come to grips that I haven’t always been the best friend, boyfriend, or husband. I’ve done the work to not be that kind of person anymore, which I’m proud of. So for now, I will let play the cards I’m dealt and hope I get a hand worth playing.