I turn away when I see Oprah’s insignia on a book. I respect her, but I’m not a fan of her show or her magazine. She’s well-accomplished, gives great advice, but again I’ve never been mesmerized by her like others are. Nevertheless, I quickly tuned in when I saw on People.com that she’s dedicating a show to battered women as a result of Chris Brown beating up Rihanna, then finding out that they are back together.
Listen up. She speaks the gospel.
“Love doesn’t hurt. I’ve been saying this to women for years: If a man hits you once, he will hit you again. It makes me so sad that I said to the producers, ‘I want to do a show about it this week dedicated to all the Rihanna’s of the world.’ I’m so worried that she’s sending the wrong message to the fans. And him, too.”
While it is all so fresh in my mind, post-dating, just into my new relationship, I want to write a letter to my future daughter. I’d tell her that Oprah is right. That love doesn’t hurt.
For the longest time, I’ve known that something was wrong with me. I grew up a dark, somber girl, constantly crying, never thinking I was good enough. I believe I inherited my mom’s depression. So because I was broken, I’d have to work at every relationship. I thought all the fighting was normal. That’s just the way it was. A broken girl couldn’t have a happy relationship. So I persevered. The fighting continued. I broke off relationships, I got back in. I fell in love, fell out of love. It was all part of the process. I never thought I would find happiness with someone. I’d only find it after a lot of hard work, after years of therapy, after couples counseling.
But I’ve found it. And I would tell my daughter that if she had reservations, if she had issues early on, then it wasn’t meant to be. Because when you’re with someone who loves you and you love him, then there wouldn’t be any questions.