Is the darkness hidden well?
Or can you see its all show and tell?

How troubling is the mind-
Exploring all the broken pieces,
And crevices abused with time.

The joy and innocence of a little girl stole-
Tears and fear did she meet in her bed,
Wishing instead of life, she were dead.

Day after day,
Night after night,
Little by little,
Her light was snuffed out;
Love- a word, she began to doubt.

Wanting to fight and push on she did,
But the pain broke her and so she hid.

Not knowing who to trust,
Or where to turn,
Confusion masking lessons learned.

Abused around every corner,
Men lusted and adorned-her.

Ridiculed with guilt and shame,
No-one but herself to blame.

The pain just increased and increased,
Until all hope within her finally ceased-

Filled with such disgust and self-hate,
She began to suffocate-

Unable to accept reality,
With crippled mentality-

Only one place left to run,
Falling to her knees before the Son.

Sin at his feet-
She lay,
Begging for forgiveness-
She prays.

Wiping her slate clean like never before-
Gods love is the one and only cure.

Broken are the chains,
Alleviating the pain-

Free is she-
And mighty is Thee.

Dearest Readers,
Have you ever wondered what life would be like without family? I haven’t because I have lived it. Picture this: One Christmas morning, a young teenage girl goes into labor and has a little girl 3 months early. Some time later, she takes that little girl without a thought on how to raise her. After a few, not so nice years, that little girl and her younger sibling was taken away to what was supposed to be a nice home only to find out, this home wasn’t much better than the last. A few months go by and they are placed with a loving couple who are already raising their youngest sibling. Less than a year later, all three children are adopted and taken to their forever home. 25 years later, that place is still home and that loving couple is still their parents. It has been the best life anyone could ask for. Farming, animals, good schooling, sports, etc…That day in September of 1999, was the day the music came alive for the first time and it has never faltered.

I think a question that a lot of us ask in the post break-up mess is

Why do they get to move on so quickly when they hurt me? Why is it so easy for them to find someone new as if nothing even happened?

I’ve realized that the answer is present inside the question.

They.
Hurt.
You.

You were the one left traumatized by their action or inaction. Their manipulation and abuse. You are the one left with the healing to do and the pieces to put back together again.

To them, the new girl is just another caught in their path. They’re not moving on, they’re just moving along toward the next source of energy they can drain. The next pretty thing that can make them feel okay bc looking for external validation is always easier for the unhealed, uncaring, and unbothered than just taking time to look inside. They don’t care, and they never will, until the day comes where she gives him that stare.

Manipulation and codependency are not on your registry. They’re not a part of your energy and are far off your radar. It’s not taking you “too long” to move on. You’ve been drug through the depth of hell and have clawed your way back out tooth and nail. So why wouldn’t you take precarious caution and detailed attention into your next ‘mate’?

They’re just moving on to the next,
we are building our future.
We are laying down our foundations to success & prosperity in all fields.

Anything that doesn’t bring us peace
Is a liability that we cannot afford
because we’ve already gambled away too much of our time, too much of our spirit, and too much of our love to only end here.
We are looking for partners and plans.
(…and the occasional one night stand bc we’re all human here 😉)

But we don’t dare waste our time with another who only intends to use us to fill the voids they refuse to heal themselves. We heal ourselves so we never become them and never put anyone else through what they put us though. We are walking illustrations of selflessness, patience, and unconditional love.

Deep down inside, we know this time is meant to love ourselves unconditionally. So when the right one comes along, their love will only add to the self-love that’s already strong inside of us. It won’t need to complete us, because we are complete on one own. We aren’t 1/2, we are the whole and we are all the better for it too.

So my love,
Please know that true love
Genuine love
Unconditionally
Healthy love
Is already abundant inside of you
And when the time is just right,
He’ll come along and add his share too. <3

After the loss of my mother-in-law, my youngest daughter brought up the topic of starting to wear the hijab (a scarf that covers the hair, denoting our humbled nature towards God, and empowering our rights to protect our modesty in a world filled with immodesty). As a mother, who wanted to give my daughter a better chance at a larger pool of the ‘marriage mart’, my husband and I convinced her to wait. However, she brought up my inner need to wear the hijab myself and be a better practicing Muslim, because the hijab is a constant reminder of my connection to God. By wearing it, I’m reminded to always be grateful for what I have, not to envy what others do, work harder to achieve my desires within the dictates, rules and regulations given to Muslims through the Quoraan. I’ve also found that the acceptance I’ve received in this Western Country, Canada, was overwhelmingly positive and empowered me to stay the course of my beliefs. Now, I’m proud to say that my struggle to strengthen my belief is a daily occurrence, that I do my best not fall under its depressing weight. Struggling to unite people through the hijab is an uplifting experience, as one shares their experiences and problems, which in turn help others find solutions for their own set of issues.
My favorite comment when people meet me, is that I have a certain glow to my face that comes from the power of my faith.

Journey

Has it really been thirty years
since that first trip to the Bahamas?
Since I had to white-knuckle
turbulent skies and roiling seas?
Wasn’t I afraid to make such
a journey alone?

Did I expect my singlehood to be
satisfied by the billions of
stars in the night sky?
Or by that diamond tennis bracelet
I purchased, no longer in style?

Did I think my loneliness would
be relieved by my friend, Tom Clancy?
Or maybe by the stateroom upgrade I
was offered as a first-time cruiser?

Was it desperation that led to
sex with a stranger I picked up
among the pulsing and gyrating
of the disco?

I know it was courage.

Due date was in August of 1992, but her druggin’, smokin’ & Lord knows what else made me quickly exit the womb.
Three months early I made my debut. All odds stacked against me, in foster care, sick, having seizures. The doctors didn’t think I’d make it through.
Eventually I was adopted by a family who wrapped me in love. As I got older, they became poison, having me question the plans written up above.
God, why did you let me end up in a home with such abuse? Sure I’m the golden child; and, no one would ever see a bruise. Yet, the mental anguish, lies, and cutting words made me cry.
Over the years I starved myself and even cut my legs and thighs.
God are you sure this is your plan? Why didn’t you let me die when you had the chance? Eventually, I came to see I could stew in how I felt; or, I could take the harder path and make the most of the hand I have been dealt. So, finally I made a choice. To speak hope rather than just gripe with my voice.
In 2016, it got hotter by another degree. I majored in counseling psychology. I’ve seen many clients over the years. I’ve heard many stories and seen many tears. Some overcame, sadly some were found slain. Though my strength still waxes and wanes, being able to plant seeds to help others bloom, even on days when my inner sadness looms, I am reminded my struggle was not in vain

Dear, Unsealers:

The following poem is a flashback to November 2015…

In the early morning hours
I stepped off the plane in Madrid
After a long, turbulent flight across the Atlantic

As I see the window ahead of me
I’m on the other side, en el Aeropuerto Barajas
With daylight yet to break

It doesn’t look like I’m in Spain
But indeed I am!

All the waiting and anticipation led here
To these eight days, my first trip away from home
Madrid, Toledo, Granada, Sevila & Cordoba await

To think, this wouldn’t have happened
If I wasn’t told months earlier, “no”.

I didn’t know it then….
I would learn to love traveling solo, joining group trips

This was a celebration of turning thirty!

I spent my adolescent years
immersed in ‘boyish’ play–
no Barbie dolls or dance premieres
to soften village frays.

Each night I’d fold my hands and pray
with mud-caked fingernails
for God to send a girl my way
to play act fairytales.

Alas! The years absorbed my wails
and dimmed my purest dream
while fate allowed a shift in scales
with daughters’ rosy gleams.

One winter day I witnessed screams
beside my gray-haired mom
and felt the wings of Seraphim
apply a healing balm

to bygone tears and white-pressed palms
of unremembered faith
with preemie eyes of panicked calm–
her entrance worth the wait.

My heart embraced her strung-out state
and set my blood ablaze,
though I could never kindle hate
when selflessness outweighed–

a mom agreed for mine to raise
one precious baby girl
and on that raw December day
my sister changed my world.

Addiction eased and pith unfurled,
revealing spunk and grace
and though adulthood duties surged,
I doted on her perfect face.

From pageants to a high school play,
I’m still her biggest fan
despite not sharing bedroom space
or crowded minivans.

I hope I’ve shown her that she can
rely on Sissy’s love
through any bind or muddled plan–
our bond surpasses blood.