when baggage is a good thing

bag lady, you gone hurt your back dragging all them bags like that
i guess nobody ever told you, all you must hold on to is you
one day all them bags gone get in your way, so pack light

bag lady, you gone miss your bus / you can’t hurry up ‘cause you got too much stuff
when they see you comin’ niggas take off runnin’ from you
one day he gone say you crowdin’ my space, so pack light

Erykah, Dr. Phil and potential suitors have all cautioned me (and others) against holding on to relationship baggage. The warnings are strong.

“If the last guy cheated on you, don’t assume that the next one will. Give him a chance.”

On the surface, this is good advice. Each person is different and it’s true, the new dude shouldn’t be penalized for the last guy’s infidelity.

But is it wise to forget the last relationship entirely? Of course not. People who are older & less dumb revisit past relationships. We examine them. And in turn we examine ourselves.

So, if the last guy cheated, he was probably a jerk. If the last three guys cheated, this situation may deserve further analysis. (Note: At no time should that analysis include any “all men are dogs” nonsense.) The hard kind of analysis that involves getting real with one’s self, fully examining the places within where we’d just as soon not go.

Baggage often causes us to operate in extremes. I had a long term relationship with a man who wanted nothing more than to sit around getting high, drinking & playing video games with his friends. Seriously, he didn’t want for anything else. Nothing. Except maybe, like a sandwich or something. But otherwise he was just content to pretend he was 14 instead of 34. When that relationship ended, I immediately got involved with someone who had no interest in games or sitting still for any extended period of time. At first it was a nice change of pace. After a year or so, it became a recurring argument.

Turns out, honoring the baggage of the 1st relationship didn’t mean that the opposite circumstance would be inherently better. No, sir, it meant that I had some self examination to do. Why did I get involved with “Sit-Around-Guy”? Why did that suddenly become unacceptable? Why wasn’t “Let’s-Kick-It-Guy” just what the doctor ordered? Trust me, I have had four years to answer these questions and deal with myself. And the baggage of these past relationships has the potential to be the crippling type that Erykah sings of – making me unable to see myself and the people I choose to partner with. This baggage also has the potential to be a perfect springboard for self-awareness. So much so, that it almost seems unfair to call it “baggage”.