The last decade (2000-2010)

Today marks not only the end of a year, but it also marks the end of a decade.  Ten years have come and gone and during those ten years I’ve done and learned a lot.  I went from a child to a teenager to a young adult to an adult.  So many changes and periods of immeasurable growth filled these past ten years for me.  From lows to highs and everything in between.  As I look back over the years, I can honestly say that I would chance a lot of things if I could but it wouldn’t make a difference because the same thing would have happened in a different form or fashion.  I was meant to be the person I am and had those things not happen, I wouldn’t be the woman I am today.  I like to think of myself as a woman on the rise.  By no means have I reached my full potential but I’m working on it.

I can talk about how many things that occurred in this decade.  I will talk some about those things but what I really want to focus on is the four big lessons I learned through trial and error.  June 2010 marked the 10^th anniversary of me running away from home.  I had many firsts: more than any other decade of my life can compete with.  I graduated four times: high school, college, and graduate school twice.  I went through breakups and heart breaks.  I lost loved ones and gained loved ones.  All that and more and the four most important lessons for me are as follows…

Ask for help:  I now have Netflix and I saw this movie with Sandra Bullock called 28 Days.  In it she is in rehab for her drinking problem.  I’m this particular rehab you can be assigned to where a sign around your neck as a part of your therapy/treatment.  Her sign read:  Confront me if I don’t ask for help.  A sign like that should have been hanging around my neck for the better part of this past decade.  I didn’t ask for help and tried my very best, succeeding 95% of the time, to not sure that I needed help.  It’s a hard road trying to do it on your own.  Even though I didn’t ask for help I had people, namely my sister, give me help and advice unsolicited.  I learned to ask for help and not be hurt if I was denied it because in all honestly that the reason I was afraid to ask in the first place.

It takes more than one:  You cannot make things work on your own.  Life is a group activity.  Whether we think so or not life is defined by the connections we make with each other.  One person cannot make a friendship, romance, work relationship, any relationship work.   The more that one person tries the more that one person suffers.

Giving up is not quitting:  The last lesson leads right into this one.  Sometimes giving up is the best thing to do.  It makes no sense trying to hold on to something or do something that is not good for you.  I’ve tried and caused myself many a heartaches and long periods where I was so sick and weak that it’s no wonder that I suffer from some of the ailments that I do.  The most significant because of the time frame is migraines.  I’ve suffered from migraines since 2002.

Family is not always blood, but blood is always family:  The singer Maxwell tweeted this line and it perfectly sums up the lesson I learned.  Some of the people I considered to be my closest family isn’t even related to me, friend and family friends.  I have some family members that are more enemies that family.  I have family that doesn't talk to me before they don't talk to my sister or my mother.  Then I have some family members that would steal my identity, yep it happened.  Some that will pull weapons on me, yep it’s happened.  And other still that would see me burn alive before wasting their saliva to spit on me.  But they are my family and for the most part I despise love them.

So to sum up, life is a learning process and I’m glad 2000-2010 has taught me so much.  What have you learned about life?  About yourself?  About people around you?  What are your take aways for the past decade?

Signed,

It is the struggle that strengthens...

Life's one certainty...

There is only one thing is life that is certain to happen and that’s death. No one has learned to escape death and why would you want to even if you can. Everyone you love will perish and live you to your lonesome. It’s like that scene from the Lord of the Rings, where the Elf Princess is in love with the knight and she has a vision of their life together. He dies, she lives, she’s sad because she outlives him and all their children. Who wants to be alive when everything you love isn’t? I suppose you could say that you’ll find new people to love but who would want to go through the pain and agony of losing loved ones over and over again?

Why do I bring up the certainty of death? Well, because someone asked me the following question: “If you could choose how you die, what three ways would you choose?” Despite being morbid, this question was very thought provoking. Out of the infinite ways one can pass from living to non-living, how would I choose to do it? Before I tell you the three ways I chose let talk about the reason behind such a morbid question. Keep in mind that this question was asked as a conversation starter, over wine, between a few people. The conversation it sparked was beyond interesting. You got a glimpse into how people think and how they live or want to live their lives. Most people want to die as they lived or die in a manner totally opposite of how they lived. On the other side when people question or challenge your choices reveal a lot about what they value.

So my three ways…


Quietly in my sleep at an old age: What does this say about me? It could say different things. But what I think and what others thought when I said it was that I’m a boring person or I choose to live life obscurely, not making a wave. Dying of old age in a quiet manner reminds me of the novel, The Giver, where when you reach a certain age you go into a room (thinking you’re going to a great place) and they inject you and you quietly die. Disappearing from the community, becoming a faint memory, and eventually it’s like you never existed.


Execution style (single bullet in the back of the head):  This is like the epitome of death.  You know it is coming but it still catches you by surprise and before you realize what just happened, boom, you're dead.  This method is dependent upon doing something that warrants it.  So you have to think what did she do to deserve being shot in the head.  It brings a little dangerous to me.

During childbirth:  The ultimate sacrifice.   A life for a life.  I don't have children now but I am looking forward to the day when I do have children.  I believe that part of the reason I am who I am is to bring forth life (with the help of a man, of course).  This method caused a lot of talk.  I'm not saying that I would to die, I'm saying that if the choice was there- my life or my child's life, I would give my life for that of my child.

So there it is, my three choices.  What are yours and why?  Although death is certain, we don't know when it will come, so live in the moment.  There have been times when I got stuck just existing as oppose to living and enjoying life. After watching the movie Up (one of the deepest animated movies I've ever seen) I fully intend to fill my memory (memory book in the movie but I'm not much for scrap booking, maybe one day) with adventures.  From the extreme to the mundane.

Signed,
We're living dangerously (like Barrington Levy)

Rain

"Rain"


Don't be afraid, don't shy away
Let the rain fall, let it run down your face
Washing away the perfect mask
You created to hide the storm clouds

Let the tears flood out the dirt of prettiness
The beauty of grit and nature
Shines after the clearing
Cleansing

The tears... the rain
last forever
if forever is what you need
to clear the way

Don't run from the storm, don't hide
Let it ravage the gorgeous pain
Let it build and flood
Break through levees

Destroy walls meant to protect
Meant to keep others at bay
Let the track of your tears
Tear down resistance

Rain down on me
And fill me as you empty me

Late night knocking- What would you do???

So TV like things always seem to happen to me.  I mean crazy things that you only see on TV and when it happens, you're like WTF!!!  If you found yourself in a TV-like moment what would you do?

Lets talk about what would you do if someone you were with, operative word here is "were," decided to come knocking at your door in the dead of the night...

Scenario: It is a weekday night and I have an early morning meeting but I'm up watching TV.  Frasier just went off and I'm into the first episode of Golden Girls.  My late night TV line up on Lifetime was Will and Grace 11pm-12am, Frasier 12am-1am and Golden Girls 1am-2am.  So I know it's sometime between 1am and 1:30am.  All of a sudden there is heavy banging on my front door.  My heart stops for an indeterminate period of long agonizing seconds then kicks into high gear.  I mean heart slamming across rib cage in an attempt to leap from my body and run.  I slowly crept to the window and looked out.  My bedroom window had a view of the front of the house.  I see a car that belonged to a friend of someone I was involved with.  So now I'm like "What the hell?"  The guy and I broke up months before but something could be wrong with him, I'm not heartless so I was a bit worried.  So I slowly go down the stairs and turn on the the porch light.

It was the guy I was involved with.  Without opening my door, I asked him what he wanted.  HE wanted ME to let him in because he was worried about me.  I let him know that I was fine.  He insisted, loudly, that I let him in.  I refused.  He started in on me about if I loved him, I would let him in.  Dude, just months ago you told me that you didn't love me and you weren't in love with me for awhile and YOU want ME to let you into my house!?! Get the F*ck out of here!!!  I was missing Golden Girls and I had a meeting at 7am, I had to end this discussion.  I didn't want to argue so I threatened to call the cops.  He relented, after awhile of trying to appeal to the love I once had for him, and drove off.

Something similar to this happened to a friend of mine.  The reaction was different from mine that night and different from what I would have done again.  Now, my thing is you can't mess with where I live.  My living space is my hideaway, it is where I feel safe and comfortable.  I refuse to let someone terrorize me in my sanctuary.  I will call the cops on a friend, on an ex, on a sibling, on my mother or father if I need to!!  I'm not going to argue with you on either side of a closed door.  I'm not going to let you in to argue with you.  I'm not going to go out of my place to argue with you.  If you are knocking on my door at anytime of day knowing that I want nothing to do with you I will call the cops.  That's what the police are there for:  Protect me, Officer!

Has this happened to you?  What did you do?  If it hasn't happened, what would you do if it did?

Family visits...

This Christmas season my eldest niece and baby brother are coming to visit.  My niece is in college and my brother graduates from high school in June.  I'm so proud of them both because in a way, they're mine.  I use to cook for them, clean up after them, get them ready for school, scold and comfort them.  I posted the poem "Typical California" today because my niece will be sharing my bed with me and I though about how we use to share a bed growing up.  She use to steal my pillow right from under my head.

My family is far, the furthest, from perfect but I love them and choose to remember those great times.  So as Christmas approaches and my first set of children gearing to come and see me, I can't help but smile.  It's like a preview for when I have my own family.  I can wax on and on about them, I can talk about how I wish I didn't have to care for them as a kid myself but I won't do either.  I'll just say that they humble me with their accomplishments and make my heart sing.

Sestina: Typical California

Typical California

That morning you left, do you remember

You woke me up with the rustling of clothes

You stopped to tell me about the earth-

quake    I tracked your movements with sleepy eyes

too tired to protest or protect myself by leaving my bed

I woke to a clear day with sun, shine and rays; typical California

Your clothes were bright and trendy; typical California

clothes    I would “burrow” them, do you remember

I would take what I wanted and hide it under my bed

By default of being the younger sister, your clothes were my clothes

I inhaled your style with greedy, admiring, envious eyes

To you I was the most annoying sister on earth

The air would be perfumed with the scent of raw earth

after the rain    that was typical, typical California

Niece would sleep with me and spook me with half opened eyes

You had your own bed but Niece and I shared, do you remember

I feared that she would “burrow” my clothes

She would probably want to share them like how we shared a bed

She’d take my pillow, my covers, my spot   it was more her bed

Her drool on my pillow marred the salty smell of the earth

Some mornings I would wake up with the wetness of it on my clothes

She was always bronze with wide eyes and a smile; typical California

girl    She was always full of life, do you remember

She’d run from sleep, even in sleep she didn’t fully close her eyes

My every move would seemingly be tracked by her half opened eyes

I still sleep in a small corner of my more than half empty bed

It’s like my body knows what was and still remembers

As it still remembers the scent of the earth

After it rains on a typical California

day    while dressed in typical California clothes

Ten years later I still steal, I mean, burrow your clothes

The memories of those long ago days still dance behind open and closed eyes

On the opposite coast, although some things are the same, it not typical California

I sometimes have company but the empty space is bigger in this queen size bed

On rainy days it’s humid but I still remember the sweet smell of the earth

Although I miss it, I won’t go back, I’ll just keep the good memories that I remember

Empty and shared beds, raw ocean tinted earth, trendy clothes, tanned skin, shade covered eyes    Typical California:  clear enough to be crowded with

memories    do you remember

(written in the Spring of 2006.  It wasn't a true sestina so today, 12/17/2010 I added that sixth italicized stanza)

I won't be that girl...

Scenario:  I was walking through the club with my sister on one of the nights I was celebrating my most recent birthday.

*spots ex-boyfriend- the one that is now married with a child*


Me: "Hey, don't I know you?" said with a slight chuckle
Him:  chuckles back "Yea, I came out because I saw on Facebook that you were going to be here.  I tried to text you.  Did you change your number?"
Me: "Yes, I did.  Did you think you would still have access to me more than 6 years after we broke up. Let me give you the new one." *in my defense, I thought it would be safe to give him my contact info because he was married with a child*


*some time later that night...*

Him:  "My friend asked me who you were.  I said my ex-girlfriend and he asked why I let you get away."
Me:  "Dude, you didn't let me go.  I broke up with you, I let you go.  Everything happens for a reason.  How is the wife and child?"
Him: "That could have been you"
Me:  "Everything happens for a reason."


*the night goes on, we danced a bit.  after that night he bbm'ed me here and there.  asked me to a movie once and to dinner another time.  I turned him down both times but did consider going once, I told him that I would consider it.  but once he typed I really hope you do, I said no thanks.  I asked if he was happy in his marriage (since he kept asking me out) to which he replied that he was joking about asking me out.*

*one random day...*

Him: "Saw you're bbm status.  Why are you bored?"
Me: "Eh, just am."
Him: *after giving two other suggestions to help with my boredom* "You should have an affair with a married man"
Me: "What the fudge!!! Hell no I will not sleep with you.  No, thanks.  I'll pass on that one."


*ok, so after that I deleted him from bbm and from my phone address book*

Mistress Vibes...
 Now to be honest, I don't know if he was talking about himself.  Fudge that, that bastard is a bastard!  But it's not the first time a married man has propositioned me.  It has happened more times than I care to count.  I don't get it.  What makes me so damn appealing to a married man?  A couple of these married men after getting shut down by me have tried to remain my friend.  One actually didn't hit up me but stuck up a friendship and it took me longer that I care to admit to until I realize that I was some what of an emotional mistress to him.  Older men also have a thing for me.  Most of the guys that hit on me are 40 and over.  I do date older but I have an age limit of 10 year older than myself and 40 is out of that limit.

Do you think dude in the story was asking me to have an affair with him?  Should older men get the good loving of a woman in her mid-twenties?

Romance Novels: What do you mean they aren't real?!?!?

Scenario: One day after school (I use to teach) I head to my neighborhood library (yes, I still do that!  I'll get myself a nook or kindle one day) to burrow a couple of books. 

I walk in the library and see two students from school, one happens to be mine and the other is his little brother.

Little bro: "Hi Ms. G" as he walks over and embracing me. * I accept the hug because he's 8 and doesn't present a "get arrested for inappropriate child/adult contact risk, you can never be too careful*
Me: "Hi sweetie" (because I couldn't remember his name)
My student: "Hi Ms. G"
Me: "Hi T, are you here to do your homework?" *I say this knowing he's not and he won't, although he a smart kid*

After this exchange they head to the kid section and computer section.  I head straight to the romance section.  I go through and grab several black romance novels and proceed to the checkout counter where I see the same same that has checked me out a few times.

Me: "How are you doing today?"
Him: "Good.  How are you?"
Me: "I'm well, thank you. And it's well not good!" *I just think that last part*
Him: As he takes a look at the hot couple embracing on the front cover of one of my books. "You know these are real. Those movies on Lifetime aren't real either."
Me: Picking up my books "No sh*t Sherlock!! I think I know what's real and what's not.  I have three degrees all from private universities (one being an Ivy).  Why are you in my flippin business?!?  I've been in those embraces portrayed on the cover of those novels!! The questions is have you? Thanks."


Now I read a lot and mostly books on education, leadership, and other such non-fiction gems.  I read those types of books because they are relevant to my professional (and sometimes personal) life.  But every one in a while I like to lose myself in a good, steamy romance novel.

Fantasy
Of course these novels are fanciful flights of fantasy.  They are a bit too over the top and there are far too many coincidences and the couple mostly exist in a bubble untouched by societal pressures that have one or both parties questioning the morals of the other.  Authors can only cover but so much time within the confines of 300-500 pages so man meets woman, they have an amazing first meeting, they are having a great time dating and sexing (very early on in the acquaintance), something happens, one or both questions the commitment of the other, they part ways, both are miserable, a danger or just desperation brings them back together, they profess their love for each other, man proposes marriage, woman accepts, story ends or they get married and have kids in the epilogue.

We know that real life is much more complicated than that.  Why??  Because we make it so!  There are men writing books directed towards women on how to catch a man and there are women preaching that they don't need a man.

Reality
Art is reflective of reality and although these novels are fiction there is a tread of truth in them.  The short span of time between meeting and sexing- it happens and I see nothing wrong with it as long as both parties go into it with eyes wide open.  All the conditions placed on time is societal.  Be safe about it and trust your instincts.  The short span of time between meeting and marriage proposal is believable.  When a guy meets the one that does it for him, he will be quick to marry her.  There are moments of instant attraction that led to lifelong love affairs.


My love for love books...
I love these love books because of the uncomplicated portrayal of the love.   Sure there will be ups and downs and sideways but all the real world pressure from friends and society is what make reality less like the fantasy presented in these books.  There are guys out there that send flowers just because and call just to hear your voice.  There are guys out there that place soft kisses on the collar bone and hold your hand as you walk down the street.  There are guys out there that hold you as you cry and support you as you fight your battles.  I know it because I've experienced it.  And although those guys were really stupid because they didn't put a ring on it those situations didn't blossom into the stuff great romance novels are made of they did make believe that fairy tale romances do exist...


So do you believe in fairy tales?  Is love more complicated than it should be?  Am I living in a fantasy world?

The glue...

So this past weekend, I ran an experiment.  A test, if you will.  You know like that scene in For Colored Girls where Loretta Divine (Green) is telling dude (well, dude’s door) that her loving him was all a test to see if he could love her back?  Well I did something like that but not with no dude, I would never do that again.  I did it with family.  I've always been classed the glue, you know that one that wholes everything together because I'm the one that plans stuff and convinces people to come out and all that jazz.  Well for once I wanted my family to contact me, and not for selfish reasons.  I wanted more than the can you come out with me with this guy or with my girls because I like him and shouldn't or because I don't like them bishes but I can't tell them that.

So I didn't contact family and in my mind dared them to reach out to me.  I mean it was Thanksgiving and all that.  Well you know what, they didn't (well one sister did, big shout out to my favorite and only big sis I got).  I knew said family wouldn't and no matter how much I want her too, she's too caught up in everyone else to have time for me.  It hurts, especially since I'm always there for her if she needs me.  Know don't get me wrong, when my birthday rolled away I received a lovely card with wonderful words but words don't mean anything without follow through.

Getting back to my glue-likeness.  She's not the only one that uses my Elmer-like quality.  I have friends that when I was in the picture we all hung out together but after I leave friends A, B and C no longer talk to friend D.  What's up with that?  My friend told me straight up: "It was you' you held us together."  Damn I don't mind because the catalyst to a friendship but must I be the covalent bond as well (is it covalent or ionic?  damn, I miss chemistry).

Along with being glue-like is being the planner, the nurturer and the follow-through(er).  Is is so much to ask for someone to take care of my behind, to bond me up for some atoms, to plan something with the old crew and new crew?  Can I be the one to get a card when I'm down?  Some flowers when I'm more than a bit sad?  Can you go out and grab a drink with me?  Can you double date with me with a guy that I'm not quite feeling but wanna get a free meal/activity from?  Get on a plane, on a bus, or in a car to visit me?  But yourself out, way out just a bit, for me?

You know what, Sean Paul, I don't want to stick to my friend/family like glue!

I'm no longer mad at myself...

In this season of thanks giving I find myself at yet another split within myself, which has led me to increased clarity. Why is it that when we are most confused that the greatest breakthroughs come through? I guess it goes back to the old adage about it being the darkest when we can see most clearly, I’m of course paraphrasing because I can’t remember the saying exactly. But with that said let’s start at the beginning of this time of confusion that led into my startlingly moment of clarity.

Very rarely do I think about my ex-boyfriend. Let’s just say that I was thankful for the relationship and I was also thankful when the relationship was over. I gained a deeper understand of others and myself while in the relationship. I also gained some lifelong friends and individuals that became more like family that my own family at times. Although he crossed my mind very rarely he was still holding me back. I cut off a lot of people because I didn’t want to answer questions about him. Recently, I opened myself up to old friendships and new ones. I realized that I was still giving him power over my life. I let him anger me when words that held no truth and after taking some time to myself I accept that I was still angry with myself for not getting out of a situation that everyone saw was wrong for me but I didn't see it.

People say that you can be friends with your ex. But why would you want to? They are ex for a reason. “Ex” is a terminate prefix. With finality and negativity attached to it. I say I refuse to regress. I don’t need to be friends with my ex or to even be cordial. There is no need and no bad blood on my part. I just prefer my life uncomplicated and without unnecessary drama. I think at times I can be too nice but I don’t always need to be the bigger person. I have let go of the anger I felt towards myself.

Regrets hold us back and keep us in a state of “what if.” I told myself I wouldn’t regret any decision I make, I would just take it as a teachable moment and I’ve learned a lot. With that said I’m taking full responsibility for my reclusive-ness over the last couple of years. I’m coming out of my shell and I’m going to love every minute of it! This butterfly has gone through another metamorphosis.

Name change

So for the new readers that I might get, this blog once had a different name. If you go to my very first post you will see that I explain the name of my post. I used to call it Double Consciousness Confessions. What can I say, I was in a W.E.B DuBois and Souls of Black Folk type of mood. The name was a mouthful but it thoroughly described where I was at that stage in my life. Since then I’ve gone through many changes and what better symbol to represent change than a butterfly. Change is the one constant is life. No matter how much we want things to stay the same they never do. I got so comfortable with persistent change that now I welcome it like a soothing balm. So “AButterflynamed7” and “ButterFLY Kisses,” the names are mostly simple to explain and understand: “Butterfly” is a name I was given and “7” is a number that was assigned to me. The “FLY” is capitalized in “ButterFLY Kisses” because I wanted to show the confident side of me. I wanted to acknowledge my inner flyness (for lack of a better word). I like that fact that butterfly and kisses are somewhat oxymoronic. A butterfly is thought of as something fragile yet their strength is evident in their metamorphosis. The force required to break free of their cocoon is what gives them to strength to live. A butterfly cut out of its cocoon will die within 24 hours. A kiss can be turbulent and calm, comforting and disturbing, numbing and painful. So thank you for reading. Comments are welcomed and appreciated.

Little Brother

"Little Brother"

I didn’t yell or scream
But I did throw in a few “hells” and “fucks”
I was worried, I was scared
And his calmness irritated me
It was like he didn’t expect us to care
As I read him the riot act
I couldn’t help but feeling like
I was losing him
Like he was withdrawing from me
But I had every right

Yet I was wrong and couldn’t figure out where I went wrong
He was so used to raised words and harsh adjectives
That I didn’t want him to hear them from me
I didn’t want him to know that my hurt also called for release
So instead I pushed down on the anger that hurt causes
I talk with him not to him or through him
I gave him room to air his feelings
Once he asked me how I was doing
I lied, I said fine
He didn’t need to know
That being the one everyone runs to was taking a toll

I just want the best for him
I want him to have a better view of the world
I want him to live without raised voices and harsh adjectives as the norm
I want him to go out with friends
But I also want him to call when he’s late
To acknowledge that the world is a scary place
Something could happen
But “I can take care of myself” he says
But who is going to take care of me
If something happens to you

She smiled and was young again...

untititled

She stood in front of me in a better mood
Then what I’d even seen
She was different
She was beautiful again
For that brief moment
The toll that life had taken
Wasn’t visible
With a small smirk
She talked about helping her daughter
The one she doesn’t talk to
The one she doesn’t refer to by name
Just “that girl”
I never realized it but I knew it then
She sometimes was the way she was
Because she felt inadequate
She couldn’t take care of her children
The way she wanted to take care of them

(unfinished)

A Good Kiss

"A Good Kiss"

Give me more
Than the mere touching
Of instruments used to assist speech
Assist eating
Assist mating
Give me more
Than the mere touching
Of soft
Tender
Lips

Give me the spark
That travels slowly
Down sensitive skin
On hairs that stand on end
And between valleys
Give me the spark
That travels slowly
Down to toes
And have them
Curl

Give me the caress
That ignites and soothes
Ignites fires
Ignites desires
But most importantly ignites
The heart
Give me the caress
That ignites and soothes
Soothes fears
Soothes doubts
But most importantly soothes
The heart

Click

Sestina: Click

Down quiet corridors my heels click
Click and echo down quiet corridors
I don’t remember wearing heels
Not when I was in high school
I stuck to flats, they didn’t make a statement
Even platforms by never those the end in a point

The heels like my stride made a point
I attracted attention with every click
I made a statement
My journey started in that corridor
Down memory lane to my days at school
Where I didn’t wear heels

Today I strutted with purpose in my heels
Each step ending with a solid point
Who thought I would want to draw attention in school
No longer the shy girls that never wanted to click--
Too loudly down quiet corridors
I wasn’t bold enough to make a statement

Not all students needed to make statements
Not all needed the attention brought by heels
Walking, unhurried, untouched, down corridors--
Was enough at that point
Belonging to some group or clique--
Was enough for some in school

For me, my ticket out was school
No need to make bold statements
No need to join a clique or to click
Loudly in attention grabbing heels
Success was the point
And I did walk purposely down loud corridors

I always walked quietly down loud corridors
I made my mark in school
Getting to the next level was the point
That was the loudest statement
I made it without heels
Now I make it with every click

The quietest walk down the corridor can make the biggest statement
I didn’t do it then but now I always wear heels in school
The point: my confidence is affirmed with each click.