Monday Dare: Cashin’ out


Every week, I challenge myself to a Monday Dare. Click on the link to see the complete list of Monday Dares or to learn more about its origin.

This week: Spend, spend, spend

Most of us can pinpoint an event which impacts us so profoundly that anything to the left of that Moment in our timeline is known as the Before and everything to the right is known as the After. I thought I had my Moment when I became a mother at 19. Then, when I married Harv, it seemed to me that having two Moments was also a possibility. If only I had been able to see into the future.

I won some money yesterday. I usually don’t throw figures around, but I’m comfortable being candid with you. Plus, I’m pretty good at bragging, so I’ll just go ahead and tell you that in one day, JUST ONE DAY, I pulled in a little over $14 working the slot machine grind in Las Vegas. People say that the house always wins. Who are these people? Do they know about me? If you want, you can share my story: about how someone you know went to Vegas as an ordinary person and came back a winner. How good things happen to good people. Use my name. I don’t need to be anonymous.

I understand a lot of things today that I didn’t back then yesterday morning. It’s becoming clear who my real friends are. This morning, “Sally” called about a lunch date. Assessing a situation objectively is one of my talents, so I immediately picked up on her real motives. It seems odd that I posted a picture on Instagram of my first payout (three almost-crisp dollar bills) yesterday and she’s suddenly eager to enjoy a meal together, don’t you think? I listened to some bullshit about how she “wants to catch up” since we haven’t seen each other in a few weeks. Even though “Sally” asked repeatedly about my availability, I remained noncommittal.

“I just can’t. I think we both know why.”

“Sally” is probably one of many I will have to cut out of my life. I’m not going to lie. It hurts. To distract myself, I’ve spent a lot of time looking at the windfall (a ten dollar bill, four one dollar bills, and two nickels). “This is mine,” I tell myself over and over again. It’s been fun arranging the bills on my dark hardwood floor: first in descending value, then in ascending value, and finally with the two shiny coins as a centerpiece. A little lonely, but fun.

Unlike “Sally,” my family has been really supportive. When they congratulated me, I could tell by the ease in their voice that they genuinely meant it. It’s hard not to get jealous when fantastic things happen to people around you. Harv and Cal are encouraging me to spend the entire stack on myself. It seems weird to me, but fuck it…YOLO. Carpe diem. Show me the money.

(Note: I feel like it’s not really cool to say “YOLO.” But I guess that rule doesn’t apply to me because I’m rich now.)

Have you ever won anything?
What should I buy? This money is burning a hole in my pocket.

P.P.S. But hey, I’m not going to be one of those lazy rich people. I’ll still be working the Facebook grind on the Flourish in Progress Facebook page.
image via blueq.com

Monday Dare: Payback’s a bitch

Every week, I challenge myself to a Monday Dare. Click on the link to see the complete list of Monday Dares or learn more about its origin.

This week: Speak out

I once gave away my last ounce of dignity and pride while begging on my knees to save a poorly-assembled IKEA lamp, a pink Starbucks mug, and two cushions. The cushions had, at one time, belonged to a couch marked for the donations truck by a rich-as-fuck family because it was the wrong color. I didn’t have enough space for the couch, but I asked for the cushions because, well, they were from Pottery Barn, and I love fancy shit.

I spent most of my teens and twenties giving my power away to people who didn’t deserve it. Not that anyone ever really deserves your power. Sure, a small circle of people may deserve your loyalty or attention or assistance or companionship or love or friendship, but power is a tricky beast to own and tame, and it’s not something that should be given away freely, if at all.

The more I gave away my power, the less control I had over my life. And the less control I had over my life, the harder it became.

And because I gave away so much of my power, I guess it was no surprise that I ended up on my knees one night begging my boyfriend not to destroy the few things I had in the dingy fuckhole I called “home.” I loved those things because they were mine. They weren’t pretty, and they certainly weren’t valuable, but they brought me immense pleasure.

Getting on my knees wasn’t my idea. It was his. I didn’t invite him along when a girlfriend came over for coffee, and he was angry. He had already taken all the power from my insides, and now, he wanted an outward display of what my broken emptiness looked like.

I did it. I begged. I cried. I asked for forgiveness. I could hear some small part of the Me that still remained hissing quietly in my head, “Ain’t no motherfucka your king, bitch. This is some BULLSHIT,” but my sobs were louder. It’s often the loudest voices that get their way, even if those voices are wrong.

He isolated me from the people I loved the most. Even when we weren’t together, he told me that every one of my moves could be tracked. He reminded me often that he could listen in on any of my phone calls, that he had a tracking device installed on my car, and that each of my keystrokes was being logged. For years I saved a threatening voice message he left on my home answering machine. In case I just didn’t show up for something one day.

I spent most of my free time watching Snapped. If you’ve never watched it, I can break it down for you in one sentence: It’s a show about angry women who kill (mostly) men. I don’t watch that show anymore. It makes me uneasy, and it’s only now that I understand why I needed it so much. I didn’t have the balls to break out of the tiny prison of my own life, so I watched these women do the things I fantasized about doing. Not that I advocate murder. Really, don’t kill people, you guys.

I sent my five-year-old daughter away and made up some excuse about a better school district. I’ve never really talked about that before, but there it is. He wouldn’t let me leave. He said if I did, he would kill my mother, and then my daughter. So I stayed, but I sent her to live with my brother across the country.

I spent so many years cowering in fear of you coming after me. You told me never to tell anyone about what you did. But I don’t keep the promises I make to evil people like you. I will never be like you. 
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NEVER give away your power, friends. And never keep the secrets of those that betray you. Speak out.
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Connect: Facebook & Twitter (@ElizabethJLiu) & Instagram (username: flourishinprogress)

image via pinterest