Self love (smacks tongue)
I love me (smacks tongue)
That tastes… bittersweet
I’m proud of me but this is weird
When I was younger and feeling myself I’d be shut down
Chill out, you’re not all that and a bag of chips
But I meannnn
Look at these hips
I am indeed, all that and a bag of chips, the dip, plus more
I’ve learned that self love is the best love
It took a while to learn that lesson
I went looking everywhere for someone to express in
I let anyone be that person
Letting anything slide which just led the pain to worsen
I didn’t know how to be alone
Alone I felt I was in the dark drowning in my thoughts
A pool of mean words which led to mean actions
Mean towards myself
God forbid I was mean to anyone else
At 10, I began to hurt myself
A razor became my best friend
8 years later that friendship came to an end
Drugs and alcohol took her place
5 years later and I finally beat that case
A long, hard fight filled with tears
I had to rewire my brain to treat myself as good as I treat others
I deserve that more than anyone
I am all I got
In pain I heal myself
In sadness I pick myself up
In anger I calm me down
In poverty I work my ass off
I am all I got
In all things I know I am self taught
The best lesson I taught myself is self love
I no longer play about me
Treat me right or get left
Respect me or leave me be
Words are powerful
So now I speak life into me
I am beautiful
I am smart
I am important
I can do anything I put my mind to
Actions speak louder than words
So I take care of me
I have a routine for day and night
And that helps my light shine bright
I can’t pour from an empty cup
So I focus on me until I fill it up
Everyday looks different
Some things stay the same
Each day I give me grace
I give me forgiveness
I give me love
I give me patience
Each day I exercise and eat right
Health is wealth
I deserve the love I give to me
I deserve to be anything I want to be
I focus my mind and attract
I enact in stealth
I move quietly and mindfully
I’m making my own dynasty
The strength inside of me shows up in everything I say and do
Sometimes I surprise me, I realize I really had no clue
Self love is the best love
I now can finally say proudly and confidently
I love me

You, you yeah you, the girl in the mirror. I’m so proud of you for seeing clearer, you’re a goal digger, making your dreams a reality, no longer a spectator, opening your heart to love, no longer dwelling on the naysayers. You emerged from chrysalis, all those you cut out are missing it. It’s their loss not yours, you’re true only to those who rode the waves by your side as you swam towards the shore. You once put up with so much with all the toxic bosses, so-called friends and wounded souls that made you want to scream and holler. Now you wear a crown, hold your head high, and forsake all that bring you pain, knowing Queens don’t belong in squalor.

J.S. -Jessica Shanel

My dearest one,

I don’t know where you are,
Or where you will be going.
But I know where you have been.

You have been lonely.
You have been languid.
You have been lost.

I don’t know what to call you,
Or what you will be called by others.
But I know who you are.

You are observant.
You are optimistic.
You are obliging.

I don’t know why you left,
Or what you took with you.
But I know what you carry.

You have vision.
You have victory.
You have vulnerability.

I don’t know how this will reach you,
Or if you’ll even read it.
But I know you.

You are educated.
You are enthusiastic.
You are enough.

Sincerely,
Your soul

I am 29 years 6 months and 22 days old.
Yet despite my youth and what I can only hope to be the late morning of my lifetime – I have been a thousand different people.
And certainly, not all of them have been easy to love.
Or really even tolerate.

There is me as an innocent child collecting crabs on the shore.
Then a pre-teen, taking the wheel of the car on the way home from school because he was too intoxicated to safely drive. Sitting on his chest in protest waiting for my Mom to get home from work after he told me in the most loving tone that he was about to commit suicide in our basement because life hurt too much.

Going to Weight Watchers before I got my period, because my body was already wrong.
Going to fat camp, but feeling devastated when I realized fat camp didn’t fix my body.
There is me standing in front of the mirror naked staring at my stretch marks and budding breasts and hating everything I saw.

The adolescent whose Father died on a cold winter day.
A day I refused to hug him when asked, out of anger and teen angst.
There is also the version of me that grew to carry that choice with me as my deepest regret to this day.
The teen who got more angsty after his passing, angry at the universe, who snuck out and dated men over a decade older than me because surely no boy my age could understand me.

I think of the determined college student I became. Starry eyed and falling in love. The bride on her bachelorette party who got a little (okay, a lot) too drunk at a winery. The passionate young adult starting her career. The young twenty something helping her bestfriend move. Me who I would consider a good friend and wife.

Then there is a psychotic version of me, stripping down into a hospital gown for a psych ward stay while male staff sexually harassed me, and a counselor taking me to the “sensory room” to calm down.
Me stuck there for weeks that felt like an eternity as I questioned my reality.
Me whose trauma filled mind and heart became so engrossed in misery that the goodness previously described seemed to dissipate.
There is the me that didn’t believe in divorce.
Me who now does.

Stealing morphine left over from my family member’s time on hospice to numb myself and play Russian roulette with my life, just to see what would happen and if the lights would turn off.
Now there is me who is grateful for faulty light switches.

There is late twenty me who decided to burn the whole house down, metaphorically, to build an entirely new one.
This version of me is strong, resilient, and liberated.
Me who decided to travel where I wanted and when I wanted.
Who fucked a stranger in the ocean and jumped out of an airplane.
Who fucked another person I had just met and got pregnant by surprise, but fell in love with.

Next there is me when I took the form of a Mother.
Watching in awe as my body changed; both in ways I found joyful and in other ways I found (and still do find) hard to accept.
Me who rocked my newborn to sleep while I tried not to fall asleep myself.
The version of me who watches Lion King while I watch my now toddler soak in life.
Me whose heart could explode with love for a little boy I didn’t know I needed.
This is my favorite iteration of myself thus far.

The same me sobbed when I thought my Mom had cancer.
And then when she didn’t – stared at her selfies and glowing effervescent smile in Iceland to see the Northern Lights (because cancer scares light a fire to check some things off of your bucket list).
The me who still grieves her in advance, because I’m all too familiar with the hole that losing a parent leaves.

There is current me who is both empowered and still ashamed to detail all of these iterations of “me”.
I am a living scrapbook.
Some pages are beautiful, and others are hard to look at.
It is striking and messy simultaneously.
When I ponder, “Do I love myself?”, a film plays in my head displaying scenes of the people I have been.
There have been times I found it impossible to “love” the current version of myself, but as I sit here in this moment – I do.
Not only that, but I can find love for the past versions of myself now, as well, for her determination to grow.

I have spent most of my life trying to learn how to love myself.
After leaving an abusive relationship in January of 2001 I was a complete mess. I was a single mother of three little ones that needed me to pull through. There you will find your strength. Someone, somewhere, still loves you. Deep into your core. Do not be afraid to be who you are, because YOU are love.
I started to write poetry.
One lonely night, after my kids were in bed, I started to reflect. The darkness seemed to slowly fade away, and the following words flowed freely, and opened up my closed heart.
I felt compelled to share it with The Unsealed family. Here goes my heart.
Someone, somewhere out there loves you. They love you for who you are, and they love you for your heart. They love you for everything that you stand for, and that you believe in. They do not hurt you, but encourage you to follow your dreams. They will not tear you down, but will wipe away the tears. when you are too weak from crying, they will hold you. When you feel as if your heart is breaking, and you do not think that you can go on, there, you will find your inner strength. Your power, your truth. do not ever be afraid, to be who you truly are. YOU are loved by you.
You will embrace the changes, the struggles and those pains. Please, don’t you ever feel like you need to change to be loved. Love is who you are.
Your road has been hard. It has been paved with loneliness.
If being lonely is what it takes to find YOU again, then let it be. Don’t be afraid to travel this world alone. take time to observe all of humanity.
You have found that we are all different on the outside, but we all bleed the same. Broken people will hurt you often due to their own pains. You will learn to spot them. Careful who you let in. Do not be cold, that is not who you are. Expand love within.
When all is said and done, you will find that you have walked many journeys in solitude. Alone. You have learned that people, are people, they trip up just like you. You have learned that holding onto bitterness, and anger is a huge mistake. It will only hurt you. Knowing that you are unstoppable. You keep moving on. At the end of the road, you will find that someone, somewhere, has been with you through the battles and that they have loved you all along…

I wrote these words the night that I found myself again. When I realized that all I needed to do was to love myself. It is still an every day battle at times, but I love the woman that I have become. Thank you for reading. I hope that it makes a bit of sense to someone.

Why do I love myself? I don’t think it’s a question that can be simply answered, and that is due to the fact that there is nothing simple about navigating the long, messy, imperfectly cracked road to loving yourself. I also believe there isn’t one correct answer to the question of “how do you learn to love yourself?”, but maybe multiple correct answers from all kinds of people who are working towards the common goal of finding true love in who they are. So, while I believe this isn’t the only answer, I’ll provide a glimpse down the long, messy, imperfectly cracked road I walk along every day to try and achieve loving myself fully.
For me, it starts with forgiveness. Forgiving each era of myself that stacks upon one another like a wobbly tower made of unevenly cut wooden blocks. Forgiving the lonely little girl who never asked for help. Forgiving the shy little girl who was too afraid to speak her mind. Forgiving the confused little girl that made the decisions that have brought me here where I stand today. Choosing every day to love that little girl regardless of her mistakes, and understanding that she and I have so much more in common than I can wrap my adult brain around.
Like her, we are both learning as we go. Born into each today as someone who knows more about ourselves than we did each and every yesterday. By forgiving and understanding her, as well as all the version of myself that came after, I repair that wobbly tower of blocks, supported by the love that I couldn’t give to them at the time. Because how can I find it within myself to love who I am without loving how I got here?
I keep in mind that I am still very young. Eight-teen years old really just means I’m a teenager with a longer leash, the right to vote, and to blow my paychecks on tattoos without a parent signature. Someday I’m sure I will look back at who I am right now, and probably find dozens of reasons why I need to forgive her. However, with a more stable foundation of love for the versions of myself I’ve forgiven, comes the ability to see the parts of who I currently am that I admire deeply. Like the fact that I am extremely creative, I have a huge heart that I plan on using to help people for the rest of my life, and I am an incredibly determined individual who will give one hundred and ten percent to anything I am passionate about. My words are never empty, and my heart and mind are always full.
I am positive that I will pick up handfuls of reasons to love myself as I understand myself more and walk this road hand in hand with the girls I have been, and the women I have yet to step into.
On this long, messy, imperfectly cracked road, I will find brightly colored, unique flowers growing in the cracked pavement. And when I reach the end of my road, I hope to have a magnificent bouquet to show for it. One that I can hold up proudly in front of me and say, “this is me, and I absolutely love her”.

My love;
I’m sorry for never seeing you
For constantly gas lighting.
Every time you tried to speak;
I silenced you like suppression.
You cried while I turned my back
I couldn’t even stand to see your reflection.
“LOOK AT ME!”
With salt stained cheeks and blood shot eyes
I finally see that its been you,
Staring back at me.
This beautiful, kind hearted piece of art;
Your strip wrapped breast & thighs, your tattoos
Tell me stories of your journey thus far.
Your mind is magnificently filled with knowledge; to mend the wounded.
I’m excited to finally fall completely in love with you
After all these foolish, wasteful, distasteful years.
Always yours; Forever mine
-Me

Dear Flower Girl,
Love is the warm mud
your ran through
with bare feet.
Love is woven
in the synthetic threads
of lavender silk.
In the weedy bouquets
you would leave
on neighbors doorsteps.
Sticky curls chewed with baby teeth.
How time-out was just more time
to daydream.
And when anger shook the house,
your magic made cupcakes
that shrunk you down
to hide in photographs with safer strangers.
Your tawny flesh could melt into the earth
Disappear inside a circle of mushrooms.
And all the angels and Fae would whisk you away—
the way the dawn exhales over the dewy mist
is the way your innocence wrapped you.
Immune to hatred
Blind to greed
So tender to the saplings and baby-things.
As if all of nature was a mermaid’s mirror
and you wanted to help everyone
with synthetic threads
and warm mud.

Dear Fair Maiden,
Love is the adhesive
that binds the heel
to your platform.
In the body beneath your tube dress.
Skin so fertile
moss could sprout from your pores.
Your flirty laugh
others would glance at;
sensing it
like expensive perfume
Smells wet and hot.
You teased them all
Made them squirm.
Teetered in the twilight
between summer and autumn.
Between playtime and foreboding.
A mysterious temptation
all apex predators grow into
from being wild for too long.
With a fickle, feather-light weight
dancing from
one shade of red
to the next.
Leave a trail of black pepper and rose and
breadcrumbs of lovers
who search for your shadow
under their pillow.
As if trying to catch a clever crow.
Even your evilness is love—
those fearless talons dig into life
squeeze the prey out of everything.
Remind them what life is.
Leave them panting.

Dear Medicine Woman,
Love is the taproot
that spreads and sprawls
below your feet.
The deep network of
your steadfastness.
Down
with all the centipedes and mycelium.
In the heart of the earth
where goddesses are born.
You are one with it all:
daughter, maiden, mother.
How her joy bubbles with
mineral baths and
songbirds in December.
Each is a present
she graces you with.
Every spark celebrates
the brilliance
you’ve become.
I cannot love the earth
without loving you
The womb of the universe
in every breath you draw.
Brave and beautiful
Wise as willow
Bear the harvest full of fruits
Use your mortar to make medicines
Turn little girls to flower girls
Give the mountain to the maiden
and spread the seeds around your home.
Cradling her young
Forgiving her shadow
Delicate as lace and strong as oak.
Sweet lady, I love all of you
Until love is shown in the bones of your hands
and your skin is dust.
All that is forever—
the reminders life is kind,
the lessons love is hard,
the bouquets on the doorstep,
the hearts that churn at night.
From the baby-bud
to the ancient tree—
and all that’s in between is
the gift that is you.

Is it considered taboo to want to research the very parts of me?

A primordial sphinx on the hunt for freedom.
A rainbow warrior with the glow of a fire fly.

I wanted to see the world and be the difference ever since a child. I couldn’t find the words to express but I knew deep down this life was far bigger than you and I.
Society wants to chain our mind and keep us bound, but I reject that notion through the shield of mirrors. There should be A level of quiet respect to the highest form when the ancients make thie face appear in the rising skies above.

Not a heavy soul can grasp the magic of this love for self, it’s a ripple effect to the elect .

“They deem it selfish” Only because boundaries were set after unmasking the strings of lifeless puppets due to Geppettos scheme.

As a child it made my insides scream but now I’m back as a Samurai ready to cut the veil as I snatch my voice back !

Cause Regardless I will stay poised. Like wind chimes with a silent sound , a rhythm pumping through my veins harmonizing sweet grace.

I AM urbane.

I will not settle for less than anything I deserve. If I’m honest it’s true to say there were many lessons learned. My heart became open the more I got stabbed in it.
A shock to the sight. An implosion of a madriasis to a gapping Truth . The hurt we experience as a poison we ingest
Most tend to glorified as they justify with that same unchanged behavior. Triggering an unstoppable velocity of the most gruesome Mary go round with acceptance like a token of appreciation to the repetitive cycle.

It’s scary

Those red flags tingle on the inside like a ping pong shaking my electrical receptors alerting every meridian as I raise my fist in deflection.
I’m Sensing your bullshit underneath that trench coat of shadows you wear like the latest fashion coat .

So Mote it Not to be

So yet again I denounce that decree. Cause for so many years I’ve shed many tears for the joy of kissing happiness.
My Celibacy amplifies my potency to having that .
I find it easy to Disarm the ego of the shallow man.

Through every mirror I walk past, when I look into my own eyes I fall deep
No succubus or strays I deserve the real thing.
A beauty that desires the same love as me, the same beauty that when I look at HER, I see me .
The more I say no to the world outside the bigger the battle comes to oblige.

No worries, “Why do you think Arch Angel Michael carries a sword at his side?
I Just close my eyes and quantum leap. As The Angels heal and protect me, while i sleep”.

I’m On a psychic voyage , navigating through intuition. Writing down my dreams that are often a premonition
I’ll cut that cord within the quickness, calling back my energy if it brings me discord, as i recalibrate.

There shouldn’t be a war between two worlds based off my decision to walk away as my will is free.
Its my sanity I’m protecting and my heart I’m cleansing from the past of a treacherous journey .
These years of silence helped me through my mind as I roamed the inside like a tomb raider.

Removing those chains , picking locks. Warring to denounce those words these dark guardians spoke over me to forever be shackled in hurt ignoring Gods knock .
Even though the little girl was Drowning in tears, she was guarding my purity from the start .
-A captor for my love, a wise old wizard at heart.

She knew the struggles and the Abrasions they would cause, but never even to this day would let me die without basking in the ambience of heavens poetry.
it’s a schism

Like A war of the hearts

… “The fire has got to cease”
( I smile as I listen to the beautiful Sade Sing)

There is enough grief in this world as is.
I’m tired of battling THERE schizoid antics through covert tactics that over time made me walk further away from the beautiful parts of me.

After so many years of searching and finding it took 33 years to find me.
My battle scars are these dark circles under my eyes . Saying “ I love you Ashley, it’s about time we found you in I .

Like hidden scrolls I dove deep inside cement walls just to access these very parts of me. Of course there’s more to come for my life in the now is just the beginning of my true self.

(This is why I love myself )

Note to the world of readers and writers:

“There is a series of major lessons that must be learned each life time, one is the walk within. Boldly choosing the shear beauty of seeking the love of self, beyond a stellar dream is the key to your heart,… YOU are the key to your own heart. Once you choose you, everything meant will fall in line too ❤️”

It’s easy — isn’t it
To look back on our life & remember all the worst
All the worst times of our life that always seem to come first

Like the first time — I experienced racism
The first time — I experienced bullying

The first time — my love was used against me
Or the first time — my heart was broken

There was a lot of first of “THE WORST”
But likewise — there were many first of the best

Like the first time — I got the job I really wanted
Or the first time — I graduated

Or the time I won my first real fight with ease
Or the first time a family member came home from jail surprising me

There’s been a lot of good moments
but I seem to have forgotten a lot of them

I’m doing my best now — to live in the present moment
—To soak it all in

Cause I know there is so much to be grateful for
—There’s always been

Like my mom choosing peace & safety over toxicity — for her children

No matter what — she never let fear stop her

She was unbelievable
She was unstoppable

She did the best she could with the hand she was dealt

Like getting that job that not only paid the bills
but also provided us with a warm free house

Or that one time she pointed out to her lawyer — how she was wrong

That was only one of the many steps she took — to obtain our freedom

I still remember the first time she met my little boyfriend

She offered to give us some money
—then suggested we go to Barnes & Noble
to drink some coffee

At the time it was so embarrassing—
But looking back now— She’s so funny
We were like 14 — Not 40

I still remember — I tried to avoid repeating history
but somehow history didn’t escape me

One day — I had to text my mom discreetly
I asked her to please come save me

I won’t go into detail — but that day she rescued me from hell

I remember the times my brother and I would go skating

Or this one time we decided to try out this game — where he had to try to make me pass out

& it actually worked — he did

Except I think he thought he killed me
I don’t know — but that shit is funny

Some of them were good memories
& some were bittersweet

I wish I could remember them all
but disassociation got the best of me

So here’s a few more that easily come to mind

Like when my first love never made me feel pressured
— Simply loved

Or when my second one spoke a prayer over me
That felt majestic & empowering
— Like freedom

Or when my friends and I thought we were cute — walking around the east side

Just waiting on the cute boys to drive by and say hi

Haha— those sure were the good times.

Then there was that time an important figure in my life somehow ended up in jail
Managed to post bail & still make it back in time to my baby shower

Or when that amazing teacher who quickly became family
Went out of her way to pick me up for school daily

Or when another amazing teacher who often went above and beyond

Was touched by some writing assignment I did
& surprised me with an unexpected gift

So yeah—

It is easy to remember all the worst — but there is also so much to be grateful for

I’m grateful for every glimpse of heaven I’ve ever received

I’m grateful for a badass mom & her vision to always
Push forward & succeed

I’m grateful for the village that helped raise me

I’m grateful for any friend who served a purpose in my life
Even if at some point — our lives no longer aligned

I’m still grateful for the good times & the memories left behind

I’m grateful for the short-lived respect & pure love I received —from my first love
My impossible baby

I’m grateful for the amazing son — my second one gave me

There is so much more to be grateful for
even from all the worst that were followed by the best

Or I don’t know — maybe fue al revés

Either way— I thank you God — My best friend

May I always be able to shine the light on the better side of perspective

May I continue to be able to see all the good that still lives within the broken world we currently live in

May we not only see the trauma we’ve endured through our struggling

But the perseverance & resilience we received simultaneously

So for both the good & the bad

I gotta be grateful for it all — and I am