Everything happens for a reason. I use this statement alot. I think in the moment of certain situations, events, memories. Past, present, and future. We think that things will never get better, feeling all sorts of emotions whether that be sad, angry , or frustrated. And why did this have to happen to me or that wasn’t fair or I don’t deserve this but what we don’t know the impact it will have months from now, and years from now. It is all planning a course you don’t know. All that teaches you a lesson or to make you be able to handle something harder than you know of. So you don’t make the same mistakes again. Gives you a whole new insight. And you will realize that it was meant to happen to be able to fight through to get to the other side. You can’t go back to the past but you can look at it and figure out how to change it. It won’t be easy and you may have old habits to break but its all about retraining your mind to be all that you want it to be and more

Kid, you’ll move mountains! Today is your day! Your mountain is waiting. So get on your way!

– Dr. Suess

I spent so much of my life comparing myself to others.
Talking myself out of things that I’ve craved to uncover.

I struggled to believe in myself, despite my best efforts.
I couldn’t think straight while being under so much pressure.

I settled for being comfortable, avoiding the unknown.
It wasn’t easy for me to step outside my comfort zone.

I lost myself for a while trying to love someone else.
Unconditional love is forever, but conditional love melts.

I made the ultimate sacrifice and left everything behind.
It was time for me to reclaim the life that was always mine.

Starting over can be frustrating, but there’s beauty in the madness.
My true purpose shined through in a time filled with sadness.

The attitude of gratitude kept me going through the pain.
Sometimes you have to lose, that’s just part of the gain.

A little progress each day adds up to big results.
You win by being humble, not acting on impulse.

It took me a while to finally believe, that I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.

After the pain I learned to value my worth.
I’m no longer in last place, I place myself first.

If I can move mountains, so can you.
Dreams are reality disguised as a source of truth.

I’m conquering my mountains one day at a time.
I’m on the road to success, it’s my time to shine.

I breathe in anxiety.
I breathe out peace.
I hide from society.
I have no release.
My feet halts in its tracks
Because confidence I lack.
My belief system is faulty,
I don’t belong in this party.
I open my voice to speak,
But suddenly my words become meek.
They lodge in my throat;
This pain that I tote;
My voice is gone
And I can’t go on.
My non-belief inflicts pain,
And my anxiety drives me insane.
I breathe in doubt.
I breathe out peace.
I scream and shout.
I have no release.
Succeeding is my desire
Writing is my fire.
Though sometimes I get stuck
Because I feel like no one gives a f**k.
It’s hard to believe in me,
When nonchalance is all I see.
“Why you wanna do that?”
They say as we chat.
No uplifting words for me;
Then wants my money for free.
Their words is invading,
Scared my goals will begin fading.
I am held hostage in my mind
And it’s all because of my family line.
So on bended knee I pray,
To believe in myself today.
As I weep and I sit
A voice says Just Do It.

10-1-2024

Dear Dad,

Did you know what you instilled into me when you taught me to “keep on, keeping on,” as Bob Dylan crooned so many years ago? Sure, he sang of a woman he couldn’t free from his mind, but you taught me I need to free myself from my own mind. Took me decades to realize what weight those words held for me, how it pushed me through tough times, how it caused me to question each comfort I found in some new demise, and that I can – but must not – give up.

The first time you quoted this quip to me, I don’t even recall what fall I took. Must have been something light, merely a flesh wound (as another quote chides). Perhaps I
scraped my knee or fell off my bicycle. Whatever it was, it caused tears to roll down my cheeks as I processed the shock of physical pain. No whining though, just tough tears that I brushed off like a champ ready for the next bruise or abrasion, as I told myself to “keep on, keeping on.”

Next time, as I recall, was a bit closer to the heart. A so-called friend turned the other way when she found a prettier face or personality. No longer was my playmate knocking on my door or calling the house. I was yester-year, a has-been, a thing better left in the past. My ego took a big hit, but Dad, you lifted my head and bid me to keep it high, to look ahead and not behind and to “keep on, keeping on.”

As my mind and body grew, so did the darkness deep inside. I did not know if this aching was how everyone lived their lives or if I was alone in my depression. Too young to fairly compare, but too old to not notice the smiles and laughter that mocked the feelings I held hidden. Even you, Dad… I did not know if you knew what I had become… this black ball of misery and confusion just trying to “keep on, keeping on.”

Over the following years, which creaked by like rusting gears, I realized, Dad, that you too struggled to keep on. You’d come home late at night from work, with a grimace that sometimes scared me. You had your own darkness to work through. I wish I could have helped, but I was still so small and powerless, and drowning too. But I still remembered what you taught me – you must just “keep on, keeping on.”

When I finally reached adulthood I thought my new freedoms, that were denied to children, would open up my world and free my burdened soul. I fled the nest and forgot the past – even you, Dad, I had put behind me. But no light leaked through the hardened barrier I had built around myself over those tender years. Like the ants that creeped into my room, people crawled in and out of my life without much notice, rarely getting through my tough exterior. Meanwhile, as sour grades turned into expulsion, turned into low-paying jobs, turned into another existential crisis… I became deserted in my own hole of Hell. It was lonely without you, Dad, but I didn’t forget to “keep on, keeping on.”

Eventually though those words started losing meaning or got scrambled in my brain. I wanted to “keep on” but for what, I did not know, and each moment carried with it more questioning, suffering, and dread. It was as if I was drowning, trying to hold my breath in the midst of it all so as to not swallow in the deadly waters surrounding me. I found some things to help me hold my breath a little longer – drugs, sex, and cutting. You did not approve, did not understand, would not tolerate and so I pulled farther away from you. Then one day I found myself very close to death and you were there for me. You stopped judging me. You simply reminded me that I must “keep on, keeping on.”

That wouldn’t be my only brush with death and the third time I landed in the ER you had lost your patience. How could I explain that even though I held Bob Dylan’s words close to me, there was a part of me that had to self-destruct? It was as if a monster had sucked me into his very bowels and all my fighting was turning out to be worthless. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to “keep on,” it was more like I had lost the motivation and tools to do so. I was not just sick but broken beyond all repair… or so I thought at the time. Even though you couldn’t fathom my disease, you found for me a place where I could find wholeness. In a multitude of other languages, I relearned your old soliloquy to “keep on, keeping on.” I found old and new tools for fighting the monster that had taken me and slowly but surely reclaimed my will to live again. My healing and repair were not completed there, maybe it never will be, but I got to a place where I could breathe again. Since then, I have ventured further into the ocean depths of living, riding her waves with bits of calm to regain my courage. Sometimes it is barely enough, but those words to “keep on, keeping on” beat like a drum in the jungle synching along to the rhythm of my own heart. No matter the obstacles in my way or the enemies beating me down, I believe I will stay on the path of living and never fall backwards again.

Love,

Your First-Born Daughter,

Kara

There is a quote that stood solid in my sight one time after looking up quotes and writing them in my notebook when I still lived with my mom. Mahatma Gandhi is the author of the quote: “My life is my message.” I was staring at it for a while as if I needed these words engraved in my memory and they were engraved forever in my mind & soul.

Since I am the one who lived it, I would tell people my story growing up, which I saw as normal. I remember when I told my son’s grandma about my past to what I thought was normal and she stood up & shook her head because she couldn’t understand it. I told her it was fine because I was here with my head held high and able to tell my story.

I was never ashamed of the things that took place or the people in my story because I understood it was all part of my journey. I can look at the bird’s-eye point of view and always try to put myself in the other person’s shoes to understand why that action or reaction took place. Everyone has a story and sometimes we have to not judge the book by its cover and realize that there are chapters prior that we don’t know.

For example, when my dad took me from school without telling my mom about it, even though my mom had won full custody of me when I was a baby. My dad had done before and kept me away according to my mom. All this time I thought it was a vacation until last year or so. I remember telling my mom how I went from one person’s house to another and how fun that vacation was. Her response was, “Oh honey, that wasn’t a vacation. That was your dad keeping you from me. You were 5 years old, & he took you without telling me.”

My mom never once spoke ill of my father to me or in front of me. My dad on the phone said once that my mom was crazy. I told him then that means you say that I am crazy, dad because both of you created me and if she is crazy, then I am part crazy. He stayed quiet and retracted his statement.

With the years passing, I put myself in my dad’s shoes and understood why he did what he did. All he wanted was to keep me close and protect me because my sister, his first daughter, had passed at 15 in October 1989, which is also the same month that I was born.

When people ask me if I enjoy doing spooky things for Halloween or seeing a scary movie, my immediate response always is, “No, because life has been scary enough.” I know I have the God given gift of compassion and empathy to understand the person’s action & reaction. To put myself in the other person’s shoe and see them for who they are. To deliver the message of my life because it is my message. Just as your life is your message because it will inspire someone to give them hope of a deserved happy life.

I understand it is not about why is it happening to me but more of a what is this teaching me. I know God won’t put us in a situation that we cannot overcome.

I have overcome a few things that, without them, I wouldn’t be in the mindset that I am in. My miscarriage was my message to understand my dad’s actions a bit more. I have the power to do what I wished my dad had done & I am in charge of my story. I know that nothing worth having comes easy, but after all, I am worth it.

“Sometimes, true sophistication Is the ability to just be present and to let the rest just be.” Brianna Wiest

When I let things just be, I can invite more of what I was too distracted to see
Leaving behind the subconscious habit to judge and criticize
Letting the silent stillness of love and creativity to magnetize
Allowing wisdom and peace to be the filters I use to prioritize
I come out of my disguise
No longer letting compulsive thoughts rise
The emotions flow like breeze through the trees
And when I’m really present, I can hear the buzz of the bees
Because nature is always whispering and inviting ease
This is the time to just listen and receive
To gaze and retrieve
Letting self-evaluation and correction seize

Dear Unsealers,

My man MLKJ had words for days,
I could go on and on listing quotes worthy of praise.
But it’s not just the way with words that he plays,
It’s not just his insane innovations in turning a phrase,
It’s thanks to his actions that those quotes seem to blaze.
His word and his deeds, piercing lights through the haze.

The marching and rallying making change to our ways.
The boycotting bewildering and melting the glaze.
Eyes are drawn to light, thus his fight drew the world’s gaze.

Throughout all of our history, through all of us living,
The mightiest heroes are the one who never do give in,
Who rather than that show us the gift within givin’-

Givin’ your life for a cause, for your sisters and brothers,
Makin’ the choice to do right, in spite of having countless others.
Lookin’ fear in the face and granting it grace,
While firmly commanding it to keep to its place.

And that’s the same lesson, Martin taught through this quote,
That’s the truth he lived and that he shared in these lines he wrote.
The call to bring light to the darkest of places,
To break down the walls blocking us from seeing true faces,
Fear builds them so high, so we’re missing the traces,
Of the love which pervades and unites us as one,
The light of the day, of each rising sun,

This love and this light is what matters the most.
Light in fact stars in the quote that I’ll post,
Martin’s light become love, I pray you’ll make it your toast.
Please do your utmost to spread its luminous lesson from coast to coast.

“Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.”

To: My amazing Dad
From: Your Daughter living with Turner Syndrome

My dear dad, I know it’s been a while, and I don’t thank you enough. Recently, you shared with me a quote from Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream: “Although she be but little, she is fierce”. My depression lately due to feeling invisible and different due to my disability is robbing me of happiness and weakening my optimism. Since birth, you have shown me the world’s reaction to my positive spirit and compassion for life. This unfortunately is lacking presently. Let me explain how Shakespeare’s quote has lifted my spirits from a dark depressed mood, to feeling more joyful every day. My feelings were that of an empty soul, and there were days when the tears would not stop flowing.

Recent frustrating times are in addition to the many challenges endured living with a chromosomal abnormality called Turner Syndrome. In fact, it was a miracle my birth even occurred. As you know, only 2% of women make it to birth. I had to overcome other challenges, in addition to short stature, including infertility, social anxiety, and heart issues.

My feelings of invisibility increased lately as some people who I thought were close and trustworthy, turned their back on me and attempted to affect my relationship with you. Just know that no matter what happens, nobody can break our bond. I will remain resilient.

It is definitely a blessing to know that I was raised with a beautiful heart and a very strong soul. You have stressed that the sky is the limit. You have also encouraged me to accomplish anything I desire in my life, and to just continue to be the resilient and independent person I was born to be. To transform from my current state of mind to a more fulfilled existence, the decision was made to educate people about Turner Syndrome. Too many healthcare providers did not seem familiar with this. Happy times resulted meeting other women with Turner Syndrome and developing friendships. These activities were recognized by my family and friends… and even my hometown.

My advocacy work spreading Turner Syndrome awareness was finally recognized by the local news station, which was super exciting. Here is where Shakespeare’s quote impacted by life. I thought positive, and kept a fierce determined attitude that I was going to be interviewed. Five days later, my dream came true. The title of Shining Star was awarded to me for spreading awareness of Turner Syndrome. This was accomplished by participating in local health fairs at various hospitals. Along with advocacy work, the goal at that time was to start a local Turner Syndrome group. My efforts have not been in vain as while on this unstoppable journey, many wonderful people have surfaced along with new friendships.

The highlight of the past year was the distinguished opportunity to meet the mayor of our city along with a photo opportunity. This also resulted in the mayor awarding me a proclamation declaring that the month of February within our city will be recognized as Turner Syndrome month. The month of February may have been chosen, as women with Turner Syndrome have short stature. Not bad for the ‘shortest’ month. Sorry, dad, I couldn’t resist.

I will always be your loving daughter, and although I am small in stature, you told me that I conduct my life with determination, grace, and zest. I have learned to be brave and strong while being bombarded with difficult situations; however, I now believe my attitude no doubt inspires many people, which is wonderful.

Thank you for sharing Shakespeare’s beautiful quote. Every time I read the quote, it will serve as a reminder of my many challenges and the steps that were taken to meet each challenge with an unstoppable outlook. I am very proud to be your daughter, and want to keep showing this beautiful world my true colors.

From your empowered daughter,

Eileen

To the little girl next door,

There weren’t many kids on our block, but I knew you existed on the other side of that old wooden fence. I was a rough and tumble tomboy that played with my brothers and you had your little sister to play with. One day, I saw you peer around the fence while I was sitting on my front porch steps. I smiled and waved. You waved back. We asked each other’s name. I recalled your little doll with tangled blonde hair.

We began playing every day, then every other day until we no longer played. I didn’t know why, we just stopped. And I went back to playing with my brothers.

Years later, I brought you up in a conversation with one of my brothers, wondering why we just stopped playing. He looked at me curiously. “You don’t remember? Her Mom said she couldn’t play with you anymore because you’re not Black.” That blew me away. To this day, I still wonder if I was so traumatized that I erased it from my memory. I wasn’t angry; I was perplexed. Not only was I shunned because of my brown skin; my family was faced with many adversities; an anomaly in a neighborhood with only a few Asian households.

I think that was the moment that formed my want of connectedness and understanding of differences in opinions and beliefs. And It was summed up when I came upon this quote from Rumi:

“Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, there is a field. I’ll meet you there.” -Rumi

In that instance, I wanted to have a conversation. It had to be something more than not being Black. I wanted to know more. I wanted us to come to an understanding of each other and form a connection. That’s how I move through life now and a significant amount of my writing comes from a place of empathy.

Little girl, if you would indulge me for a moment, I’d like to share a poem that I wrote. In my career, I worked in human resources and conducted exit interviews. In this particular organization, I noticed the same word came up; silos. The repeated concern resulted in individual offices not being open to collaboration, even though the collaboration would be a positive push towards the organization’s overall mission. This led me to create the following poem:

Silos
Towering into the blue sky
Seen from afar on a country road
What do you hold?
Contained in concrete countenance
Are we the same but cannot speak?
What if we opened the doors
And let the grain spill out
What a beautiful mess
Feeding all that stop and wonder
Let’s talk

After I wrote this, I came to the realization that this wasn’t just about a particular organization’s communication problem. It’s bigger than that. This is about what is going on in the world today; deep seated religious beliefs, political dissension…divisiveness.

“Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing…”

Little girl next door, I’m not mad at you or your Mom.
I just wish we could’ve had a convo, but turns out rejection turned into catapulting me into the world, with a hunger to understand and the need for finding what connects us and not divides us, with meaningful respectful conversation.

Be well, little girl next door. I hope you are safe and doing fine in life.
Maybe someday, we’ll see the same field.

“I’ll meet you there.”

Out of all my Mother would try and tell me, “Treat people the way you wish to be treated,” stuck in my mind the most over time.
Countless times experiencing new people, realizing “What goes around comes around”. I began to see how “We’re all reflections of one another”, intentions for another person are setting yourself up for a boomerang; so it seems in the end.
Thinking of someone else, thinking of yourself, either way, it all comes back around, returning to sender the way we handle different experiences. The most complicated being the times when we’re expected to “be the better person”, even to our enemy. Forced to see past the personal disturbances, before becoming what we hate, after it mariates in our subconsciousness.
My middle school to college friend was diagnosed with Weed Induced Psychosis. It took our friend group by surprise; Each outburst was talked about over Gossip and sips of Iced Coffee.
The closest of her friends knew Schizophrenia was hereditary in her family, but it took over 1500 mg. of THC one night to cause the Psychosis to be noticeable, and eventually diagnosable.
One by one her friends left her because they didn’t want to deal with the outbursts, that came with her struggling to quit weed completely. I understood why, everyone our age smoked at the time, it was hard to escape what triggered her episodes.
Regardless I made sure she had a place to stay, a friend, and someone who knew her before the diagnosis, that would treat her with respect.
Our friendship ended when she tried to ruin my reputation by spreading lies, that formed out of thin air, then proceeded to want to fight after running into each other months later. I had to understand it wasn’t a personal vendetta, only the Psychosis, and I ended our friendship. Even after running into her later in life, I had to express, “We didn’t leave off on good terms, please just stay away from me.”
One day, her friend was my server and told me how she smashed the window, to my first car while I wasn’t home. I always had to understand, she doesn’t have control over her thoughts and actions. She’ll always be my friend, but as we evolve as people, we also grow apart from one another.
Leaving off on the best foot possible is hard, especially with someone who makes you hate them. Treating people the way you want to be treated, is the best way to make the world a better place, simply by setting the example.

If beautiful was printed from a negative it would be the silhouette of a rose
Because roses are sculpted from the hands of immorality
Breathed from the marble no one saw as a flower
Every petal flaunts the gorgeous of galaxies
Positively Divine
The eyes of roses are ocean deep and sky blue
They see life the way we’re supposed to live
Balanced in duality, Life and Death
A marriage with as many anniversaries as time
The two need to become one so fear may bloom into confidence
A rose might be one of the few things to achieve perfection on earth the way its attraction reflects the heavens
The way it’s smile ages like the innocence of a child until its aroma becomes the wine from 35′
The way it freezes death into a Picasso Dali Esque piece of painted poetry
A rose understands the heartbeat of death and the silence of life in humility
That’s why they are used during and after life
Have you ever seen such grace command hell ?
Roses make the marble soft, the concrete cry, and anxiety strong
And that is why I say, “you remind me of a rose, an absolute rose.” (Daisy Buchanan)
You are and can be everything you want to achieve
p.s. it’s never too late to sculpt your rose…

This quote from The Great Gatsby has inspired me since my high school years. As a passionate admirer of flowers, particularly roses, I aspire to embody the metaphor of sculpting my rose from concrete. Life presents various challenges, and I have faced significant mental health hurdles along the way. However, this quote serves as a powerful reminder to embrace the strength that can emerge from pain and success. I am committed to personal growth and believe in my capacity to improve each day. That is what I wish to communicate in this poem and inspire others on their own journey.