Hello everyone in the Unsealed community! I just wanted to check in and say hello. I hope you’re all doing well, and I wish all the dads a wonderful Father’s Day weekend.

Today is going alright so far. My husband is playing games on his PlayStation, and my cat is hiding in a cool spot, lounging on a pair of shoes. As for me, I’ve been cleaning out my laptop, sticking to my usual coffee routine this morning, and deciding whether to work on some more projects or take a break today.

With the heat wave we’ve been enduring this month, I could use a break. Anyway, I hope everyone stays safe this weekend and takes care!

Dear Community,

This topic I wish to share hits me hard since I’m a mother myself. I want to know what you think about being a mother. I will admit that the parenting choices I made in my life weren’t the best, but I have acknowledged and regretted what I got myself into. However, this isn’t about me today; I want to discuss what you think about a mother who has three kids and another one on the way. Do you honestly think she should be having another child right now?

My story is about a woman in this current time who has two girls and one boy. In my opinion, she shouldn’t have another child at this moment. The reason, you may ask, is that this is what she does all the time: she currently works in healthcare, her partner works at an amusement park, and she draws money from one of her kids. Yet, she complains that she’s always broke. How is that possible? I mean, come on—my husband and I are living on a monthly income, and we have no car, but she can still go to work, go shopping, eat out a lot, or go play at a bar.

Another parenting issue I see is that whenever she wants to clean the house or do something, if it’s an activity that the kids can’t be involved in, she thinks that Daddy has to take them, no matter what. Being a mother, I understand that if you have to work, that’s one thing, but if you don’t, why can’t you take the kids? What’s so important that they can’t be involved in what you’re doing?

What frustrates me is that I understand they need to spend time with their other parent, but what if that parent has things going on too? What if your electricity is out, or your internet is down, or someone is sick in your house? Is it fair to put your kids in a difficult situation, yet you feel justified in getting mad if your kid gets sick or complains about being bored?

I mean, is it so hard to ask your co-parent questions to ensure that the house and surroundings are safe for the child before they come over? Don’t just assume that we can automatically handle things without checking with us first. Don’t get me wrong; I understand that just because you may not be around kids right now doesn’t mean you have forgotten to be a parent. You just want to ensure their safety. Is that a crime?

Hello, writing community. I wanted to introduce myself. I’m a single mother of three kids: two daughters, aged 15 and 10, and a son who would have turned 3 this year, but sadly, he passed away four years ago.

Since I got remarried in 2022, I haven’t accomplished much in my life. I’ve been trying to re-enter the workforce after losing my most recent job due to medical issues and not having a car at the moment. I’ve recently been looking for work-from-home jobs because I’ve been advised that, given my current circumstances, I can only pursue positions that allow me to work at a desk or from home.

I am capable of doing computer work, cleaning houses, babysitting, or caring for pets. However, without a car, it has been challenging to find jobs elsewhere.

Currently, I receive a disability check and live with several conditions, including ADHD, PTSD, ODD, BPD, anxiety, and bipolar disorder. Additionally, I suffer from IBS, GERD, gastritis, sciatica, stress fractures, COPD, bradycardia, and sinus arrhythmia. My life can be complicated, but I do my best to function daily, even though I’m 35 and not as active as I would like to be.
I’m now back in the world, looking for something new. If you’d like to get to know me or comment on my material, feel free to message me anytime.

This is a story about a single father whose life became turbulent after a bond with his children was broken. Following the emotional turmoil, he focused on his routine—going to work, playing games, and taking his medication daily. However, he faced constant harassment about who was watching his kids.

The father struggled day by day. Initially, they had shared custody, with him watching the children on weekends. Yet, that arrangement quickly changed. It felt as though he had to drop everything and attend to the kids’ needs, no matter what. While he understood that being a parent comes with responsibilities, it seemed unfair that he had to handle all the household chores, such as cleaning or running errands, while his ex-wife continued her social life.

The emotional strain intensified whenever there were issues in his home. If he or his partner fell ill, his ex-wife didn’t seem to care. She insisted on having the children with her, regardless of whether there were enough supplies at his place or if the electricity was out. It felt as though maintaining a second family complicated his efforts to move on with his life.

The most challenging moments arose when she unexpectedly demanded to take the kids for educational purposes without considering what plans he had for the day. She would guilt-trip him, insisting that someone should accommodate her wishes no matter what else was going on. It was an endless cycle of conflict and frustration that affected his ability to maintain a stable life for himself and his children.

One Week,
That was all it took
My heart broke completely
24 hours
That was all it took
To stop doing anything that could hurt you
I did everything right
I followed all the rules
I even tried to love myself more so that I could love you entirely
One week
That was all it took
To take everything that was left of me

Hello Unsealed Community,
I just joined this writing platform and to be honest I am not sure what I should say for my introduction. I am socially awkward so interacting with people is very hard for me. Writing is different though. I feel more at ease when I write and can express myself better than I ever could with spoken words. I always loved to write ever since I was little; it is my safe space. Because of this I have been looking for ways to improve my writing and I stumbled upon this community. I have always wanted to find people who loved what I loved. Being homeschooled for most of my life, it was difficult to interact with other people, much less find a group that enjoyed what I enjoyed. So I spent a lot of time by myself with my writing. With that being said, I am truly grateful that I found this community. I hope I can build my writing skills here, as well as meet lots of people and hear all their different stories.

The days are long, but the years are short; I think that is the best phrase I can think of to sum up my experience raising my children. If I think about those words too much, it will stir up powerful emotions in me and bring tears to my eyes. As a mom of four children, an eleven-year-old son and three daughters ages 8-years-old, 3 years old, and 5–months old, I know how busy daily life can get. I know how long the days can feel, but I also know how quickly each year passes and how fast kids grow.

My days are so busy from the moment I wake up to the moment I fall asleep, and even when I take a break, my mind races through every unfinished task on my to-do list. My days go something like this: wake up, get myself and 4 kids ready. After the chaos of the morning routine, I drop my two older kids off at school, hopefully on time. Then, after the short drive home, I juggle housework and office work with entertaining and caring for my two younger children. The hours fly by and before I know it, it’s time to pick up my two older kids from school. Most weekdays we have an hour or two before one of my kids has soccer or tumbling practice. After feeding the kids, we rush to get ready and head to practice. After practice, we head home to cook dinner unless I decide to pick it up because the last thing I want to do is cook and clean up. Homework and bedtime follow dinner unless we are lucky enough to have time to play a game or watch tv before bed. Once everyone else is asleep, I spend a few hours cleaning, doing laundry, and any tasks I can accomplish before I give up and go to bed. After a few brief hours, the alarm will go off, and it will be time to repeat everything.

When life gets busy like this, each day feels so long and overwhelming, but the days turn into weeks and the weeks into months, and the year passes so quickly. Then something, usually something small, will remind me how fast time has passed. My most recent reminder was a newborn onesie. I was sorting through my baby’s clothes and putting away the ones she has outgrown. As I held a tiny newborn onesie in my hand, the memories and emotions flooded my mind, and I cried. I remember going to buy more newborn outfits because the 0-3 size ones were too big. I remember how tiny she was. I remember those newborn cuddles, and how special those first weeks were just like with her siblings. What I don’t remember is how it’s already been 5 months. I don’t remember when she grew out of newborn clothes and diapers; I don’t remember the last time I held my newborn before she outgrew that sleepy cuddling phase, and I don’t remember the last time she wore this onesie. As I put away those tiny clothes I cry, I cry because it’s emotional watching your kids grow, experiencing all their firsts and all their lasts. When I add her clothes to the bin of baby clothes in my shed, I see baby clothes from each of my other three kids. I see the sleeper my son wore home from the hospital, my eight-year-old’s first tiny outfit, and my three-year-old’s tiny newborn hat. I hold onto outfits that I vividly remember buying for each of them. I remember distinct moments they wore each outfit in the bin, and I can tell which child each item belonged to. When I look at the tiny sleepers, I can still picture my kids wearing them as babies while I held them and they slept in my arms.

I can’t control the memories and emotions flooding my mind and weighing on my heart. Memories of sending my son to preschool seem like they were last year, but next year he starts middle school. What seems to be a short time ago, I remember my 8-year-old daughter was learning to walk and now she has mastered walkovers in tumbling. I remember my 3-year-old daughter learning to talk and now she can have a full conversation with you. I have been through this realization before, and it is emotional for me every time. Life gets busy and I don’t take the time to realize how fast they are growing until something little reminds me. Something like a newborn onesie reminds me to take time to enjoy every moment I can with my kids and make lots of memories because they will never be this small again. As I wipe my tears and put away the baby clothes, I’m reminded of how fast kids grow. And I tell myself to remember this important lesson. The days are long, but the years are short; Embrace the chaos of motherhood because one day soon you will miss all of this.

Crying
Diapers
No sleep

Your EYES

Screams
Anxiety
Hair pulling

Your LAUGH

Hunger
Dehydration
Not clean

Your CUDDLES

Depression
Tired
Worries

Your TINY FINGERS

Anger
Restless
Headaches

Your SMILE

Your Scared
Your Hungry
Your Learning

I’m HERE

Nurse
Cook
Maid

I’m MOMMY
in love with every part of you……….

As Springtime starts to approach,
I feel such a relief of frozeness.
I feel such relief of stillness.
Springtime for me is a time to feel alive.
Feel free.
It’s a time to let warm sensations caress the body.
Springtime is about growth.
About planting those asparagus seeds and watching what comes from those tiny seeds.
From what once was tiny to what will be extraordinary.
Springtime is like a crayon.
Soft.
Gentle.
Full of creativity.
Full of color.
Full of brightness.
Springtime is like a crayon.
Leaving your mark on what once was to something beautiful.
To something magical.
For some, Springtime can be a time of transformation.
A time to use their personal napkin to cleanup what was to make room for what will be.
As Springtime starts to approach, I leave winter with this…
“Thank you for the lessons.
I’m ready for the homework.
I’m ready to put the frost bites of my past in the freezer of yesterday & open the fridge of growth for today.”

** 3 word prompt poem: Asparagus. Crayon
Napkin **

Unsealers,

I seem to have a difficult time finding the right words to begin an introduction about who I am because I am still trying to figure that out for myself. I do know that I have a story to tell, and I feel incredibly grateful to have stumbled upon this community where I finally have an opportunity to start doing that for the first time in my life.
Starting at a young age, I had a craving for the fast life. I entered into the throws of addiction shortly after my age became double digits, I was gifted with a laundry list of mental health diagnosis at age 25 including but not limited to type 1 bipolar, C-PTSD, anxiety, and depression; and in turn I have landed myself in some fairly… less than ideal circumstances due to those facts. All in all my intentions are mostly pure, but I have a tendency to take red flags and mistake them for a carnival, and I seem to try every wrong thing first before I finally get life figured out. Some of the shit I have gotten myself into has changed me forever, some of it makes for a hilarious story, and some of it can still bring me to tears just by thinking about it. All of it has brought me to where I am today. I have experienced child birth, divorce (not once but twice), multiple types of abuse (both on the giving and receiving end), homelessness, prostitution, incarceration, and the list goes on. It will be interesting to see going forward how this all eventually gets out on paper, but I appreciate every one of you that are about to guide me through making that happen. I would love to get to know you all, and I am looking forward to reading what each of you has to say.

XOXO, kendy

May this find you all in good health and wellness.
Let me introduce myself:

I am AmbitiousBMarie. (Branching off to a new name soon ***NoireRequiem***
Been writing since I was 13.
I’m a former foster youth and I strongly believe writing played a major role in my therapy during that time.
I’m currently located in York,PA
I was born and raised in NYC, Tha Bronx.
I want to bring people on the journey of my life.

We are the ones who hold the history of this World.
We are the true storytelling animals that write through it all.
And I am here to give my part of the story.

So glad to find community online and I hope we all can find solace in each other’s writing journey.

That’s my pretty baby
Driving mama crazy
Lovely little lady
That’s my pretty baby

Eat your macaroni!
It’s good for your bone-ies
So you can beat up “homies” **
And Mama won’t get arrested by the police!
** [implying self defense, not man hating or bullying]

That’s my pretty baby,
Driving mama crazy,
Lovely little lady!
That’s my pretty baby…
That’s my pretty baby!

(The song is on YouTube! https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=D0z8GSFOhTc&pp=ygUdUHJldHR5IGJhYnkgY2hleWVubmUgamFtZXJzb24%3D )

Her first name,
Korina.
She could shorten it to Kori,
so she could rhyme with her sister’s “Tori”
Or if she’s more of a tom-boy and wants it to sound less girly…
Korina is my female English version of the Spanish word Cariño, meaning affection and love.

From conception to birth, she introduced a new kind of love to me, another rhythm to my heart’s beat, & I created it out of my own body… It was almost surreal.
Her middle names, one her father’s middle name and the other the only word that comes close to describing what she is to me, what it felt like when she came into my life.

Heaven.
Lee.

I wanted Heaven to be her first name, but I was afraid she would dislike it as an adult because of the religious affliction or that it might cause some unintentional pressure to be perfect or something.

So I placed it in the middle, right before her father’s middle name “Lee” so that she might remember she is both Heaven and heavenly to both of us.

Korina Heaven Lee.
Mi cariña heavenly, my heavenly love
Pretty baby.

They grow up so fast… Never pass up an opportunity to gush and brag and feel pride in your child… Never pass up the chance to shower them with adoration and encouragement… Say all the things now that you will regret not saying, even if they already know.
It’s still nice to hear.

77%

Obligated newbie post..
Hello all. My name is Heather & I’ve always found comfort in writing. I’m an avid journal writer for 25 yrs now. It’s my safe place. I just released my debut book/memoir last month. I saw this site as a sponsored ad on my IG. Figured it was a sign from the writers universe due to the fact I’ve been wanting to enhance & enrich my writing skills. Get back into the poetry era of my life. I’m hoping to find some inspiration & motivation thru this app. Thru everyone’s words. 🖤

I am the proud mother of two incredible boys, Kaheem and Xavier. My journey into motherhood began with Kaheem, a blessing I never anticipated but deeply cherish. Kaheem, who has Autism, has faced many challenges, including bullying at school due to both his condition and other medical issues. Yet, through it all, he has shown immense strength, teaching me what it truly means to love unconditionally.

When I first found out I was pregnant with Kaheem, it was just four months and four days before my 25th birthday. I was scared, nervous, and unsure of what to expect. His father suggested abortion, but the moment he did, my maternal instincts surged. “No,” I said. I wanted my baby—he was a blessing from God.

At the time, I struggled with bipolar disorder, PTSD, mood swings, and deep depression. I doubted myself, wondering if I’d be a good mother. When the time came, I was in labor for two days before undergoing an emergency C-section. It was then that my mother faced an unimaginable choice: save my life or my son’s, as the doctors couldn’t stop my bleeding. In that critical moment, she chose both of us.

Even now, writing about it makes me emotional. When it was all over and Kaheem came home, I learned what love truly means. He became the love of my life, and for the first time, I understood the depth of a mother’s heart. My parents stepped in to help, especially my father, who became both a dad and a grandpa to Kaheem.

Three years later, I discovered I was pregnant with Xavier. I didn’t know until I was five months along. Fear surrounded me—everyone was concerned, urging me not to have him because of the complications with Kaheem. But I refused to let fear dictate my choices. Xavier was another blessing from God, and I embraced him with open arms.

This time, my C-section was without complications. I had Xavier on a Monday and, by Tuesday, I was out of the hospital, walking around and shopping for baby supplies. I’ll never forget the older woman at Food Lion who stopped me. “When did you have the baby?” she asked. When I told her, she gasped. “Girl, you need to take yourself home! You had a C-section yesterday—you’re not supposed to be out here!” But I had already endured so much; I knew I could handle this, too.

My boys, Kaheem and Xavier, have been my inspiration through everything. They’ve stood beside me through life’s ups and downs, giving me purpose and strength. Being their mother is the greatest gift, a beautiful duty I would choose over and over again. I love them with all my heart and am endlessly grateful that God chose me to be their mom.

No matter where you two are, you’ll always have a special place in my heart.
My two little rays of sunshine that shine the brightest in the dark.

I miss waking up to you two every single day.
The warmth of your hugs and smiles made everything okay.

You two taught me patience and how to be more responsible.
The bond that we share is nothing short of remarkable.

I miss the sound of your voices and your adorable laughs.
I promise to cherish each moment, no matter how much time has passed.

I’ve always wanted a family, so I was blessed with two little angels.
Your laughter fills my heart with joy, like life’s sweetest jingles.

To my Little Potato, stay true to yourself and don’t ever change.
To my Emotional Butterfly, there’s always sunshine after the rain.

I’m sorry for leaving you guys, that wasn’t part of my plan.
I hope one day you’ll forgive me and try to understand.

You two will always be my babies, no matter what anyone says.
I’ll cherish our memories until we can be together again one day.