My Groupie Blueprint

My Groupie Blueprint

When talking with my oh so Fabulous, Sexy and 'blow them away" educated BFF Lavandria M. Cole ,I came to realize that we do indeed have a different taste in men. She has her type and me, I have mine. What's my type you ask? What kind of "groupie" is RaChelle-Denise? Well...

I am the woman who falls for a man with a poetic and artsy mind. I'm not talking about a Romeo and Juliet type of poetic, I'm taking about that poetic visionary. I, myself am a poet. I write. I imagine. I read. I listen. I learn. I create. Hell, I'm an educator, so of course I am going to gravitate to a man who has a philosophical and imaginative perspective and personality. A man who is comfortable and willing to look past the "wrapping" I come with and hold a meaningful conversation with me. I want to know how you see things, how things make you feel. It surprises people how well and good of a listener I actually am. So SPEAK!

Yes, I am HIGHLY aware that I am attractive; I'm pretty, I get it BUT that's not all that I am. I have a mind, I have a voice, I have dreams. I.Have.A.Story. Which is why I don't really care all that much about appearance. Oh course he has to have style and swagger, he has to be able to hold his own, but that's not all I go for--you have to bring something else to the table for me to consider--make me think, make me wonder. Don't think for a second, that spitting game will get you past the welcome mat. Let it be known that I know the game VERY well and I've played with and learned from the best; you can't bullshit and bullshitter.

So I am not a "football/basketball groupie", I'm more of a "creator/game changer groupie"---if I were a groupie that is.

Yours Truly,

-@BMynroe (RaChelle-Denise)

"The Other Side of Pretty"

“The Other Side of Pretty”

The other side of Pretty,

So neglected but fully visible.

Echoing the question,

“To Be or Not To Be?”,

A question, oh so pivotal.

Pivotal to whether we die

Or whether we live

And how much time and energy we are to give.

The other side of Pretty.

∞   

Beyonce said that “Pretty Hurts”

And Lord knows she spoke nothing but the truth.

The truth you keep hidden,

Only known to the unknown and you.

As little girls we are automatically taught to strive to be Pretty

And to distance ourselves for all that is not.

We are taught to quietly steal the show,

Passively-aggressively fighting for that spotlight.

That’s part of the other side of Pretty.

∞   

To constantly feel the quiet but strong pressure to be the best, To make sure everyone knows and shall never forget your name; It grows into a unasked-for duty and to rebel against it,

Brings such shame.

That’s just some of the tiny fine print found on the “contract” on the other side of being Pretty.

RaChelle-Denise

@BMynroe

Yearning for the Present

Yearning for the Present

A Tale of a State of Mind Gone Awry

“But what if this happens…What if this goes wrong…What if I can’t do it…How will I ever recover…I could have done such a better job…What if they laugh at me…What if?”

I've confessed in the past about my tendency to be self-absorbed. I've confessed being high-maintenance and at times superficial. I've confessed that I am a control freak and slip into living as a double-standard. I've aired plenty of my dirty laundry.

Considering the things that I will forever keep to myself and take to the grave,

What else could I possibly confess?

….

I don’t live in the moment.

         ∞       

As simple as that statement may seem, I assure you it’s not.  I have always strived toward being prepared, cross my t’s and dot my i’s. Call it a Virgo trait but I freak out if the smallest detail doesn't correspond with my goal at mind. It’s something that has become substantial in my personality, to who I am.

Rewind back to some time ago…

In times of self-reflection, the few times I allowed myself to, I began to notice how anxious I had become without warning. Being anxious and in a constant state of perfecting detail had become second nature to me and I have to admit that it took its toll on me. It’s hard enough to be pressured by the world that consists of an everyday routine of being told in some way shape or form that you are, what you’re doing isn't good enough.

And trust me when I say that I get that from people who claim they have my best interest at heart; I find it amusing and entertaining to see people try to sell me such fraudulent perspectives. They try so hard. But the one person who I can’t seem to break habit with is I. The pressure I put and allow to be put on myself should be a crime, its borderline catastrophic.

   ∞       

This concept isn't something that just came to me one day. Honestly, I have been suppressing and hiding this fact for a very long time, years even.

I mean, what kind of sense is there in danger to be the best? How can one possibly be harming oneself by striving for excellence? The billion dollar business of self-help fluctuates every year due to people who want to open that door to begin striving for excellence.  Some just want the hint of possibility that they feel determined and motivated.

So I would ask myself in times of self-doubt: “Why am I complaining?” and I would swallow that lump in my throat and keep pushing.

But I couldn't ignore how more frequent I had to shake the feeling away and how bigger the lump was each time. Something was off; something bigger than my own strength was wearing me down.

Something was wrong.

     ∞       

I finally begin to play with the possibility that I was doing something wrong, that maybe my outlook and perspective was not healthy and that maybe my push for excellence was doing more harm than good.

So I did what I always do when things come into question for me, I researched and self analyzed. I began reading: “The Power of Now” by Eckhart Tolle; “Yesterday I Cried” by Iyanla Vanzart; “The Road Less Traveled” by M. Scott Peck, M.D. ---just to name a few.

Of course I read articles on personality and anxiety; I was in search of answers to questions roaming amuck in my head. They needed to be dealt with and put away. I calculated my health into the equation as well: migraines from hell, high-blood pressure, acid reflux—the list was devastating. I also noted my mood as well. I’m naturally stubborn and headstrong, it runs in the women of my family, I am in the running as #2 but I had to admit that I had become so over defensive and stand-offish that I was like a field full of land mines. Hell, sometimes I found myself walking on eggshells with myself.

You may think that is the dumbest and absurd thing to say but I assure you it’s not. It’s really not.

        

        ∞       

I would go to sleep with my mind running 100 miles per hour, one thing to do jumping to the next, to the next. Forget counting sheep, I counted worries, must-dos and things that needed improving.

I would wake up to an alarm in my head that would be screaming the reminders of the things I drifted off to and the things yet to come. All of this had become normal for me until one day I looked down and saw my Dachshund, Kne-Nu sitting perfectly at my feet; her dark marble eyes staring at me with what I swear to this day looked like concern.

And I remembered this piece of information I had run across randomly, that dogs live in the moment. Dogs do not worry about details, they don’t worry about how they look or the impressions they may give off. Dogs don’t crave much but attention and affection. Their happiness and standards are so simple to satisfy; nothing like mine.

       ∞       

I will never give up my high standards or compromise the pure and true essence of how I am. I would never be able to forgive myself if I did. And I take full responsibility for being a control freak hell bent on perfection, at times.

But what I will focus and work toward giving up is putting up these gigantic hurdles around myself that keep me from enjoying the moment. I will keep myself from internally time-traveling to the long gone past and to the God only knows future.

I have goals that I fight and strive to accomplish but as of at the moment, my only goal is to not care about the goals of the goals…of the goals.

“You must live in the present, launch yourself on every wave,

find your eternity in each moment.

Fools stand on their island of opportunities and look toward another land.

There is no other land; there is no other life but this.”

― Henry David Thoreau

          ∞       

xo, -@BMynroe

(RaChelle-Denise McKinney)

Epitome of 2013

Epitome of 2013

I had been staring at this blank canvass for about a week, watching the blinking cursor mock me. Writers block had become my best friend because I had absolutely no idea what to write. None at all.

 For me, writing isn’t just throwing out words. I use them to tell my story, release all the weight that may seem to be clutching on to me.

And here I was, knowing I had and wanted something to say but had no idea where to start. How could I possibly hold up my tradition of posting on New Year’s Eve a hope for the next year, when I had no concept of what to say?

It’s a writer’s worst nightmare.

So I decided to stop over thinking and over analyzing and just let the words flow however they seemed to come. Eventually, the dots would connect. At least I hope.

v  

2013 was what I call an “introduction to myself”. You know the saying, “I need to find myself”; or “I’m finding myself.” That’s a proven statement which I believe and standby but I cannot tell a lie and say that I have fully found myself, instead I have been introduced to the person that is me.

This year has been a meet and greet for me, not just with myself but to my abilities, faith and endurance.

I have been approached with so many opportunities that went way beyond my comfort zone. I’ve been pushed to limits that were set in my mind by external and internal influences. I’ve been put in situations where I had to question myself; going with my instinct that was all based on hope and faith.

Some precious things that I once held dear about and within me have died and fallen away, leaving room for more productive and inspiring things to be planted. I’ve had to set my priorities differently and put my own desire to the side in order to fulfill the greater good. Some was done in good cheer and others were done with a snarl and high brow but it all was still done.

Never have I felt so unprepared yet succeed beyond expectations throughout it all. It’s a feeling that is quite indescribable but at most very fulfilling and rewarding and I would do it all over again.

My 2012’s New Year’s Eves post was “To Taboo or Not Taboo”. As I read throughout it last night, in an effort to get some type of inspiration, I realized how little I knew about the truth I spoke of. None of the things in 2013 would have ever transpired had I not taken it upon myself to live and go about the year not putting myself in a box and embracing new things that came my way.

Oh, the new things that have come this way!

Life was not the only contributing factor to the new and evolving things spread throughout this year but I, myself have given room to walk through new doors.

I remember, I always remember, the prayers said through tears as I knelled at the edge of my bed. I would pray that I be made a better woman, a stronger woman. And as I look back now, I see how closely God was listening. And how in my most clueless state of mind, I was being given the most; my prayers were being fulfilled unbeknownst to me.

That’s the best type of blessing.

I’ve discovered so much about me. How I relate and react to the world and the people and things that revolve it. I’ve come to understand the many underlying meanings to the confusing pieces I’ve been given and I’ve come to discover even more confusing pieces, meaning yet to show it’s self.

The journey never ends.

v  

So what are my hopes for 2014?

Seeing as how I have already been introduced to whom which is me, now I want to grow and invest into that person. The woman that is the core of me, underneath all of these layers I have to peel back and discard.

And like the peeling of an onion, it’s not always a pleasant experience; many tears are shed during the process.

My hope is that I give more than I receive, that my path and mission is not a selfish one because I benefit most when I put myself aside. As crazy as that sounds, it’s true. I’ve spent many wasted days rebelling and running away from problems or life whenever it gets hard, it’s my fight or flight installment. And I’ve exhausted myself, I’ve done more harm than good by doing such and I just refuse to do that to myself any longer.

So instead, I wish to embrace come what may. That doesn’t make me a victim; it doesn’t make me weak and deemed surrendering to the hardships. Embracing gives character and in character there is strength. Instead of being a rebel, I want to be a warrior.

A warrior who gives her all and sets her mind and eyes on the prize; whatever prizes there is in 2014. But most importantly, I want to stay true and loyal to the woman that I’ve grown to know and love over the course of this year. A woman whom has a story to tell and no matter what or who says differently, she knows her story is worth telling.

So I say farewell to 2013, lighting and lifting a lantern into the sky with gratitude. Watching the light that has guided me throughout this year prepare and show the way to the 2014; which gracefully makes it way to greet me. I plan to be a good hostess.

Happy New Years Loves!

As Always,

Yours Truly,

-@BMynroe

(RaChelle-Denise McKinney)

Attention Whore

Attention Whore

I was driving down a road surrounded by desert, alone. My long, flowing hair was scattered in the wind because I had the top down—unbothered by the sun that beamed down on only me. My shiny candy apple red convertible was the only color breaking up the royal earth tones of the scenery I traveled through. I caught a glance at myself in the rearview mirror and was flattered at the sight: oversized black sunglasses on the face of a woman on a mission. A mission I didn’t know the details to.

I finally got to my main destination, Vegas and resorted to being even more confused—because Vegas, Sin City, was empty.

There were no by standers, there was no traffic, there was no sound—just the flamboyant buildings that made up Vegas—with only me as a possible occupant.

Where were the people who craved the drama and lust of life? Where was the world that this city was known for, the world of the best and the worst, the ugly and the beautiful?

Why am I here, I thought to myself but as much as I myself was lost, my hands knew where to take me as it steered the vehicle from street to street until I ended up in front of a grand apartment complex that beckoned me to come in, as if I belonged and my presence was overdue.

In what seemed like the flash of a second, I was standing in front of a beautiful view. A breathtaking view.  The floor to ceiling windows lined a whole wall that was high above the city. I was taken aback from the experience of the view but an unsettling feeling began to set in my stomach because this view gave even more evidence that I was alone, very much alone. There were no beings scattered about. Vegas seemed completely forgotten and abandoned.

I cautiously walked around the penthouse apartment that was furnished with all that screamed luxury and high maintenance. I made inventory of the flat pool in the middle of the floor that was laminated by a lavender color, mirrors that lined my bedroom and a closet full of diamonds, pearls and shoes for all walks of life. There were clothes made of the most expensive material, all in my size. A vanity mirror that seemed to be my second home, I assumed I had spent many hours in front of this mirror accomplishing a look that would get both hate and praise.

The only person now left to criticize and impress was the reflection in the mirror.

As familiar as this all was designed to be, it could have not been more unfamiliar. How to explain this cluster of emotions? And again, I asked why I was here. Why did I feel like a stranger to something that was clearly mine? Why did it not resonate?

As if a bolt of lightning had struck down upon my head, I realized the underlining motive: I was dreaming. All of this was a dream, a dream that had such meaning that I knew I had to pay close attention if I were to understand.

I was now in the presence and power of inception. A practice and process I know all too well.

I stood still and took inventory of all I could before the fine line of dream and reality broke. What is the message? What am I being told?

I was successful, highly successful. I had all that I desired: money, cars, clothes and living within the limits of that of spectacular, so why did it seem so sad? Why did this seem so unworthy and juvenile? Why had what I dreamed of seemed so pathetic?

Because I was alone in the world, the last person on Earth, surrounded by all the things I strive for in life, real life, and no one to share it with, or better yet, no one to show it off to.

Could the whole purpose of this dream was to note that along with the aspiration to be successful; I also wanted to be seen being successful? I needed an audience along with the success?

I awoke from the dream and remained in the bed for a good while trying to collect my thoughts, emotions and feelings. Dreaming such determined and illustrative dreams exhausts me but it was something I had to been shown in order to ponder.

I’ve heard the harsh criticism of those who seek to be the center of attention, “attention whores” is what the bluntest call them. How desperate those attention whores must be. How lowly we look down on them.

Why is that?

You will never hear someone clearly state that they enjoy or seek people’s attention because no one wants to look petty and superficial. The reason we pick apart those who do is because just the thought of someone wanting praise for such is unacceptable. They can’t do that! How dare they do that, go about life showing off and flashing their success in front of our faces!

There is a thin and blurry line between attention and recognition. There are those who are just flat out obnoxious and need to be brought down to earth, quickly. But does every person who flaunts themselves deserve to be thrown into the same category? Should all keep quiet and dare not assume the position of displaying themselves, even if they are well qualified to do so?

Could it be that the “attention whore” never intended to be one on display but the game of life placed them there? And that no matter how hard they try, they will never be one to blend in, be looked over, fly under the radar?

Could it be that some people are just meant and made to be in the spotlight, while others are meant to be backstage, or in the audience?

One can not survive without the other.

So why break the platform of those headliners by calling them superficial? Narcissistic? Full of themselves?

It's amazing how we are so quick to look down on those who show off, the ones that are branded "attention whores" and whose anthems include that of Kanye West's "Flashing Lights"---they make too much noise, yes? They need to take a seat and stop obtaining too much attention, yes?

I don't believe they are met with rolling eyes because of their blunt and unapologetic sense of superficiality---but because they have the nerve and gall to admit and do it. To admit that you enjoy being seen or to even hint at it; throws you into the fire! You are not supposed to consider yourself in such high regard---right?

We all want attention, even if we claim we don't, we do. That's why Facebook likes, YouTube views, Twitter followers, Instagram reposts hold so much power and control because as much as we may shake our heads, we just want to be liked and popular in someone's eyes. 

You don't have to admit it, I know there are some images out there that need to be maintained but the next time you scoff or give your 2 cents about Beyonce, Jay-Z, Kanye, Kim, Rihanna, etc. or those on the bottom of the food chain such as myself, I dare you to answer the question: "Why you mad?".

“The greatest gift you can give another is the purity of your attention.” –Richard Moss

Yours Truly,

-@BMynroe 

(RaChelle-Denise McKinney)

xoxo

I Pray

I Pray

I quiet myself,

I fight off the voices that seem to overcrowd.

They are not welcomed here,

their protest and hassling isn't allowed.

           ∞       

I block out my falsified justification,

I slowly let down the walls that I allow to close me in.

It’s now time to let the rare listening to happen,

it’s time to let the anonymous prayers to begin.

         ∞       

The eyes of my soul search my heart for words I've yet to know.

I search for situations of people and things that life has yet to show.

I pray for mercy to be given to others

and for forgiveness to come their way.

I pray that strength and peace is given in times of what may.

         ∞       

I pray for those who have done wrong and refuse to acknowledge they did.

Prayer for those who walk with much pride,

those who let their self-worth go to the highest bid.

         ∞       

I pray for those who have lost their way

and have no desire to make it right.

I pray for those who fight inner demons quietly,

late into the night.

        ∞       

There are people who hurt, struggle and can’t breathe

because of the weight that they carry.

Some have shut down and closed off,

resistant in sharing.

          ∞       

There are emotions that run high,

there are roaming doubts so strong.

I pray for their progressive healing

and the act of letting go to come along.

          ∞       

I pray for the pasts of others and I pray for their future,

and the people in wait.

I pray for a better outcome in their present

and if needed, a better turn in their fate.

          ∞       

I ask myself,

Why do you pray for people whom you barely, if at all, know?

I ask myself,

Why do you pray for people whose gratitude don’t and probably will never show?

         ∞       

It’s because it’s my duty,

as a human with a soul.

To strive and find happiness and peace despite it all is the goal.

        ∞       

I pray for others

because I know too, the hardships of this world.

And I pray

that someone, anyone is praying for me,

this one whimsical girl.

-@BMynroe

(RaChelle-Denise McKinney)