I don’t hold a degree in medicine or psychology. Nor do I have a professional license as a life coach or marriage counselor. I don’t claim to be a beauty guru. But my friends have been nothing but encouraging when I told them I wanted to do this blog focusing on advice for women.
Skeptics ask me, “What makes you capable of ‘polishing’ women?” My friends are only too happy to respond.
I have been their shoulder to cry on, the much sought-after advisor about troubles in their love life, the go-to-girl when they need to know what shoes to go with what dress for a specific event. My name is topmost on their minds when they need to figure out what hairstyle suits them best. My phone rings off the hook when they need to know what food to eat or which diet to follow to lose unwanted pounds.
I figured that my loyal friends embody ordinary women who face the same struggles every other woman out there in the world must face – young or old, married or single, rich or poor, slim or plus-size.
So, what makes me capable of ‘polishing’ women? Simply my life experiences – a vast and rich resource of hits and misses in relationships, sex, beauty, love, and life.
I love women and I love being a woman. I love being surrounded by beautiful women and I believe every woman is attractive. I want to help and witness women evolve into their desired selves. We just have to learn to express what is within and to let out the essence of our beauty from our core.
I love men too, but I grew up in an environment where men cheated. I studied men and practically used my own life experiences to understand them. Or, at least I attempted to understand them.
From first-hand knowledge, I have grasped the possible reasons why men do what they do. When my parents separated, I had to learn to fend for myself and my siblings. I did modeling jobs at an early age, entered show business, and later on branched into talent management for other women aspiring to proverbial fame and fortune.
In my younger years, I ran with the wild crowd. I partied, rubbed elbows, dated and slept with the rich and famous – politicians, actors, Hollywood stars, models, celebrities, sugar daddies, and what have you. I have had fleeting relationships with all sorts of men from different countries and of different races.
Through trial and error and in the most painful way possible, I eventually uncovered a good sense of what I did not want from a man or in a relationship. The constant vicious cycle of loving and hurting got me somewhere in the end. After all was said and done, I became wiser. So the woman you see today is the product all these experiences combined.
Then one day, as I was on my way to becoming my ‘polished self’ – smoothing out my ‘rough edges,’ ‘buffing’ my exterior so that I would glow, and cultivating the gem that was my innermost being — I met my polished man. He was like a chivalrous knight in shining armor who swept me off my feet in one fluid movement.
I wasn’t looking for love when I met my husband. We were both simply ready to fall in love. Everything happened so fast that our common friends doubted that our relationship was real. But there was an unexplainable connection that I did not have with anyone else before. Also, what was most important is we had both been on this ‘polished journey’ so when we met, we knew we were meant for and worthy of each other.
After a few months of dating, we got engaged and made the trip to the altar in the presence of family and friends. We now have three beautiful children and after 12 years of marriage, we’re still crazy in love with each other.
But we are far from perfect. Like all married couples, we had to strive hard to fight temptations and trials. Complacency has no place in a marriage or relationship. Nothing, not even the number of years together, can guarantee success in a marriage. Marriage is hard work. Never put your guard down.
This blog had me finding my purpose. I want to be here for all the women who need to hear the voice of reason, a voice I have painfully come to know first-hand. I want to impart the wisdom I have gained in my own life.
Polished aims at only one thing: To redefine modern insatiable women – To find feminine in feminism..
I have secrets and I am ready to reveal them. I invite you to come follow me.
I am a girl struggling to define what love means. In the past, love for me represented some sort of exciting, torturous relationship that led me on a whirlwind of big ups and downs. The familiarity of these types of relationships were so exciting to me that I could not open my mind to something else. Anything else would have been too boring.
I now know that I need to find a different definition of love. The problem is, I don’t have one. Sometimes I feel too broken to be able to give or receive love. However, with my friend Jessica’s wisdom, experience, and presence, I know she can guide me towards the kind of love I’ve been longing for.
I was 29 when I met her. She was 39. We were a good 10 years apart, but she looked so young that damn, we might as well have been the same age. We were both on our way to celebrating our one-year anniversary of moving to Los Angeles. Jessica had just moved to LA with her handsome husband of eight years and their three kids. I had just moved to LA from New York City with my sexy Brazilian husband, whom I recently married and was quickly divorcing due to his newfound love for coconuts.
He moved to LA before me because he was transferred there for work. Being a total New Yorker, I despised the idea of leaving my best friends, my big Italian family, and my work behind. But I was loyal to my husband and knew he needed this opportunity. So off I went to lala land, giving up everything I ever worked for. That is what you do for love, right?
When I arrived, my husband was a changed man. He could not have sex with me as he was trying to reach a higher power, and sex would have interfered with that. So I concluded that we were not going to be making babies anytime soon. I also learned that he gave up all alcohol and caffeine, and was now a vegan. He joined a crazy cult. It was a secret society that, he said, I was not worthy of joining. My husband completely abandoned our marriage. I felt lost and alone. All of a sudden, at 29, I was in the middle of a daunting divorce.
I was jobless, lonely, and desperate to do something with my life. Since I was an actress who taught theater to kids in NY, I started a little theater group for kids in Hollywood. Jessica and I met when she registered her two kids for my first production of “Oliver”. Little did she know that when she enrolled them, they were the only two students I had. I was petrified, but I took her money anyway because man, did I need it! I had faith that more kids would sign up and lucky for me, 23 more children joined our show.
Meeting Jessica was kind of like love at first sight. She was breathtaking. She was everything I wished I could be. Her skin was golden. Her body was rock hard, and she had the legs of a supermodel. Every facial feature she had was perfect. And her clothes…oh her clothes! She was the perfect blend of sexiness and class all wrapped up into one. She was like a Vogue magazine coming to life in front of my eyes.
My favorite thing about her was her smile. She had this laugh that could liven up anyone who was depressed. She must have been the happiest person I’ve ever met. I wanted to know who she was and what in the world made her so happy. I was hoping she could not tell how miserable I was. But this goddess knew and felt all. She quickly revealed to me what she saw.
I do not know why I was surprised to learn that Jessica knew how unhappy I was. I first was made aware of this when she came to the theater with a present for me. She had told me that her husband, David (whom I had never met), wanted her to buy me something nice. It was a dress! It was simple and sexy, and I wanted to wear it everyday. As she gave it to me, Jessica told me with a smile that I was pretty and I should fix myself more. At first, I thought it was a rude comment. Who says that? But when I looked at my untied sneakers, frumpy looking workout pants and chewed up fingernails, I kind of knew this Filipina goddess just may be onto something. And did I mention that I did not have an ounce of makeup on and my hair was thrown in an ugly thing that slightly resembled a bun on the back of my head?
I thought to myself, I’m broke and extremely depressed and this woman is rich and extremely happy. Of course she looks like a million bucks and I look like two cents. But Jessica did not give up on me. She was one of the first people I ever met who asked me questions — not in an intrusive way, but in a way where she genuinely wanted to get to know me more. I found Jessica’s interest in me to be so interesting. I was a wreck and she could just as easily have wanted to spend her time in the shoe section of Neiman’s, but she didn’t. She put her time, energy, love, and soul into getting me to open up to her.
So I did.
Jessica and I started going out and I spilled everything. I told her about my failed marriage and the new abusive, fat and balding Moroccan man I was seeing. She never once said “Poor little Jovanna.” Instead, she would raise her voice and emphatically tell me in her cute Filipina accent: “What’s wrong with you? Why would you be with a man who treats you this way? A man is supposed to love you and give you everything!” I would argue back: “He gives me love!” Jessica would look at me as if I had ten heads. She told me that I was crazy to think that a man who could not call me his girlfriend and instead called me names would ever be capable of loving me. I heard everything she said, but I was incapable of listening. She was happy, so how could she ever know what I was going through?
I am not going to bore you with all the little details that followed, but I will give you a glimpse of what happened next. When I finally reached the point of no return (and this was way after the relationship with the Moroccan guy) I was already in another destructive relationship. Jessica showed up at my house and had to break into my apartment as I would not open the door. She found me on the floor, devastated by my new boyfriend who took in a hot female roommate just days after we talked about getting engaged.
Jessica peeled me off the floor, took me to a cafe in Beverly Hills, and asked me why I loved men who did not treat me well. I wanted to answer her, but I couldn’t. Maybe it was because her five-carat diamond ring was blinding me. Maybe it was because I was delirious from not eating, or maybe it was because I had no frikkin idea how to answer her question. Because if I did answer it, I would have had to be honest with myself and give her a reason, and this made me feel pathetic.
I finally asked Jessica for help. And so, my polishing began.