I love you
in the future, present, and past
You were my first love
and you will be my last
I love you deeply and truly
Like no one else will
If you were someone else
I’d love you still
I love how beautiful you are
I love how sweet you smell
I love your soft touch
And the stories you tell
I love everything you do
And I love what I see
I love that you’re you
I love that you’re me

I’m broken but who isn’t

I’m broken but who isn’t we’re all just trying to make things right, for the religion was believing in yourself and to find just a piece of light.

The story of a lost soul, trapped away.
A soul that’s hope has withered away.

I just want to feel alive,
I just want to feel at peace,
I just want to feel the ease where I’m able to see..

Chained down by endless defeat.
Giving up when things get to hard,
For being controlled was all we are.
What a bad thought to have yet it stirs up ever so often, where I have nothing left inside, feeling worse than broken, but pulled apart, asking the question why does life have to be so hard?

I used to love to dance and be free, I was a wanderer of the stars, always waiting for a time for me and my spark, then awakened the dark.

Looking back to something long forgotten, yet there it was etched upon my skin making me itch and burn and feel weary and thin. Feeling as if I was the one forgotten, and everything was a lie, making me close my eyes and cry. Scared to fall asleep at night.
Then one night a storm passed by.
Howling long and strong with contentment, and a breeze that made you think back to a time of trials and testaments, yet time went by and the noises had settled. A deep sensation had risen over me,
For I was the phoenix rising through the finer things, reborn, steadfast and strong.
I grew to accept my nature as the light of the sky,
And of the night. The one who works up the fight.
The one who never gave up without a try.

Life goes on, they say you don’t know
Until you try, look into a deeper sight.
Stand tall, keep your head up.
Your dreams aren’t as far as you think.
Even when it seems like a wink,
A thin link between the cracks, my life had been but a dream, far beneath reach, but I decided for me there is always a new time and beginning to past defeat.

Then one day i found the missing key,
A key that had been stored away for safe keep.
I found deep inside, an ember of light.

To get up, and to fight, a calling sent from above that can’t be ignored for this call is for more than me, a call for all of us to see..
The dark and the light that t are a never ending fight. This story has no end because the journey has just begun, we will start again, and forge ahead.

Thought of trial and tears, all the distraught fear,
Picking up pieces of a puzzle that was set in place.

For only god knew what you went through.
For through the dark is where we find the light.
The saying goes deeper than words.
Everything does truly happen for a reason,
Phenomenon of the truest stories and lessons ever
heard.

I’m broken but who isn’t,
A thought that crosses my mind.
From time to time, whispers of shattered dreams linger, and souls bear burdens hard to reconcile,
Yet in the mosaic of brokeness, we find,
A common threat that binds.
Each of us carries wounds unseen, in the shadows where pain has been seen. For who amongst us has this fear of despair, the seeds of our own.
In these moments of darkness, we search for the light, to guide each of us through an endless night.

The story unfolds, for every battle fought does not go untold, we still stand, hand in hand, so don’t let the broken parts of us decide who we are, for this is the canvas of our hearts. We are beautifully imperfect creatures from the start, we are the symphony of struggles, a dance to begin,
For in our brokenness we find our song,
A melody of resilience, mighty and strong.

One of my earliest memories takes me back to when I was around six years old and at Geauga Lake (look it up kids!). I am there with my Gram (who is still kicking to this day and certainly an authority on overcoming hard times). I can remember even then her saying… “If something is too good to be true, it is. You can’t skip steps.” That was a constant refrain followed by constant warnings against kidnappers.

But I am too busy walking off the Big Dipper near closing time, and I notice there is no line. Decked out in a neon fanny pack and my best jellies (again, look it up!), I feel like destiny is shining upon me. Everything in my short six years has been leading up to this moment. I am positively on top of the world despite needing to use the restroom and failing to tell my Gram of this plan. I don’t bother with a pesky line – no way! I simply skip it by crawling underneath the ropes, zigging and zagging between turnstiles and proudly presenting myself for one more ride. I am so caught up in the glory I don’t think of the much needed bathroom break nor the woman who firmly believes every amusement park is a cover for the bad guys to kidnap me.

I never make it on the ride because my Gram is screaming for me, and I am so flustered that I trip on the way back out, more zagging than zigging, and fall face first on the concrete. My glory is gone. Gram is still screaming about not skipping steps – and lines! – and she’s still right today. You cannot skip steps and should always look out for kidnappers.

I draw your attention to this anecdote, because her lesson was was twofold. One, you have to surround yourself with people who want you to succeed and act accordingly. I didn’t know back then how important relationships and building them would be, just that I loved her. Find a person who is in your corner, and don’t burn that bridge. A mentor can take any shape – a priest, a teacher, a neighbor. It is a beautiful gift when you find non-romantic relationships and build your support system. However, I still wasn’t listening as much as hearing about this not skipping steps stuff.

I am not going to pretend my life has been hard. That came later. I was a child to whom everything came easy. Not homecoming queen but friends with everyone. Not the smartest but top of my class. Went to college, studied abroad, attended law school, passed the bar the first time, met the love of my life and had a spectacular wedding. But when it came time to have a baby, my body quite literally betrayed me. I was told I would never have kids. And it was like I was face down at Geauga Lake all over again, but I still wanted to race to the finish.

I see now things were too good to be true because I hadn’t built a foundation to deal with the overwhelming changes – the IVF treatments, added expense, and fights with insurance companies. This was all before I could even get pregnant. Gram and I discussed a quick plan of putting in the work and staying positive. That meant quitting my prescription medication, cutting out drinking and working out. A voice in my head whispered But you aren’t pregnant, you can skip that.

I’ll tell you the second prong of advice now. The first being to find a person who supports you and gives good advice early… and then you actually take it. I didn’t realize how difficult dealing with infertility was going to be. And I was so angry. Is this privilege? Absolutely, and when I commit to something, I really commit. I didn’t stop my medication, oh no. I took extra. I didn’t stop drinking; I poured another while scrolling social media and tormenting myself with Instagram gender reveals. Positivity? What was there to be positive about when I couldn’t get what I wanted easily?

I fell so far in my marriage, my career, and who I was. I know now from working out, eating right, getting sleep, and doing meaningful work that I could have kept my mind and body aligned for the journey to motherhood. Instead, I turned up at my Grandmother’s door much later than I should have, lost and scared in a way I never knew. She held me while I words failed me. It was sadder than being told I couldn’t have kids.

That day was both not very long ago and also another lifetime. I am back on my feet, a practicing attorney who can walk 5 miles a day, can make more than reservations for dinner, and show up in my own life. It is because I live every day grateful for having a support system. Putting in the work and not skipping the steps to wellness, for me, has been tough. But I am different and more present and joyful because I know I can handle the toughest of times.

I will be seeing Gram tomorrow for our weekly lunch date. I won’t be late, and I won’t have to cancel. I do not skip steps when it comes to what matters and neither should you. Six year old me would be proud of this woman – a mom to a silly golden retriever who hasn’t given up on the hope of motherhood and also wears a fanny pack to court.

To whom it may concern, might you share in my journey of perseverance…!
At 30 years of age, I can say my entire experience has been a testimony. My grandmother raised me. My mother passed on when I was just about four years old, and my father spent most of my childhood years in another city or state. As a child I was extremely curious! I was also gifted, charismatic and reserved. It was evident that I was different. It took me a while to really understand that the only opinion that mattered was my own. Not in a defensive way either. More so, I know what I am, who I am and whose I am. If I want to change something about myself, I have the strength, wisdom and discipline to do so. As long as I love myself through the process, no one’s judgment can harm me. I’ve outgrown internalizing someone else’s opinion of me. This has become the center of peace in my life and is the reason I can live my life in the way that suits me best! My upbeat life began in early childhood, at roughly 5 years of age. I danced with 2 dance companies until I was 13. I am soon to be 31 and I still dance! I’ve studied ballet, tap, jazz, majorette/dance line, contemporary and modern dance. Independently I perform and I teach dance during the school day. I began to teach myself how to do nails and study the craft in elementary school when I’d gotten my nails done for the first time and my grandmother told me that she wasn’t going to pay for me to go back. In 2014 I obtained my nail technicians license and in 2021 I obtained my master educator certification. I currently have been running my exclusive nail organization since 2017! I allowed my growing pains to be a compass in helping others understand their thoughts and emotions by becoming an inspirational speaker. I’ve learned how to use my voice by way of writing my own music. I release creatively through crafting and painting. Sharing these intimate parts of myself with others. My gifts gave me purpose and everyday I put my best foot forward to secure the promise of my legacy! Learning how to be a serial entrepreneur while also being human is like learning how to juggle in real time. With no experience. I’m learning how to manage 5 entities under my LLC series. It’s a lot but I’m doing it anyway! It is difficult some days and a breeze on others. I’m still committed! Nothing worth having comes easy! I have been blessed to be able to keep going and so I am. May you be inspired and motivated to answer the call to your greatness!
– Sincerely, Porsha

To all the young quitters of the world,

I was born a hoarder of mediocrity, dispirited by even the most menial of tasks. Gifted with abundant aptitude—cursed with atychiphobia. What use is a cat without sails, hopelessly set afloat in a sea with no current? When faced with a challenge, I’d give up before contemplating the reward. I was a winner of few, loser of none, for I could never lose a game that I’d never play. I too was a quitter wholly, by heart and mind; complacent, satisfied— safe.

Coddled by this mentality, I drifted aimlessly through grade school, consistently settling for participation awards. If it didn’t come to me naturally, I’d quit each sport my parents put me in by my second season. My room lay riddled with numerous abandoned projects. By middle school, quitting came to me as soaring does a peregrine. Only when I’d discovered the joy of making art did I learn to persevere.

My eighth-grade art class diverted me from a lengthy path leading to one destination— life-long unfulfillment. Tasked with creating an acrylic flower portrait, I finally accepted a challenge. I’d finally tried to move the boat. My vision translated from my mind to my hands to my canvas. This was it, I thought. This was what I was made to do. This was something I wouldn’t desert. Just shy of a few weeks of tedious editing and revisal, my painting was finished. I gently propped the canvas against the board, but when I stepped back to get a better view, my smile faded. My face contorted as I fought the oceans-worth of tears welling my eyes; I’d failed.

I’d ruined, disrespected, mutilated the flower’s image. Water started pouring through the crevices of my fatally flawed vessel. As I slowly tore away from the world, the sea of chagrin engulfed me greedily. Instinctively, my muscles relaxed as I began my descent; I’d already given up.

Just as the sky began to fade away into the murky sea, a small, wooden row boat floated into view.

“You’re a natural-born artist”. As if one compliment from my teacher had unturned years of defeatist ideals, my body began to propel itself to the surface. My hand gripped the ledge of the boat as I pulled my body over the side. I moved like it was something I’d always done. Before gathering myself, I briefly stared at the sunken catamaran below. With a scull in each hand, I started my next project.

This time I’d set out with a new mindset; this time, I controlled where I’d go. The subsequent project turned out as wretched as the last, as did the next few works I’d produced. Still, I would not quit. Art is a passion that would’ve laid dormant if I’d quit when I wanted to. It mattered not the quality of my work, but the slow improvements with each piece. I learned that like most things in life, art is not something perfected on the first try nor the second. It is not until the hundredth try that an artist starts to appreciate their work.

To this day, my art does not meet my standards, and it likely never will, but I’ll never stop creating. I’ll keep rowing until the water parts and my feet can touch the seafloor. Even then, I won’t stop moving. I’ll keep running until I can no longer endure because quitting is a comfort known only to the ordinary. Set sail with the propellant of a thousand ships and may your ship be unsinkable.

I’m not giving up right now.
A middle aged white man calls on a Friday, letting me know I don’t have a chance.
Let it go, this won’t go well for me.

Wait, what?

Finding that spot within myself, where my ego jumps ship.
I’m not giving up simply because it’ll be hard to prove.
I’m not giving up because it’ll be hard on you.

I’m not giving up, but I understand why so many do.
I’m not giving up because I know my truth.

There’s no holding me back,
I’m not confused anymore.

Despite being scared, exiled by friends.
I’m standing up for myself.

When I testify on Monday, I may be scared.
But I will not back down,
I will set the bar here.

And when I am mocked and told it’s not a big deal,
I will think of myself and every one in this place too.

As lonely as it feels, I know I cannot be alone.
I will hold up my stop sign, and trust in myself.
I am not stopping at green,
Because I’m learning to go.

It’s so easy to give up
Nowadays too many people count you out
Before you can even start to pursue your goals
But if there is anything I’ve learned
There are situations,
There are challenges,
There are distractions,
There are difficult times,
All of which will test you,
Teach you,
Mold you
Or prepare you for life’s biggest blessings
I remember back in 2018
I was partying with my family on Memorial Day
The next day I struggled to get up for work
On May 30th, 2018
I got a call while at work that my apartment was on fire
Everything was a blur
Taking a cab all the way to Brooklyn
Not even sure what it cost me that day
I was headed back to the remnants
Of what used to be
It was the last place my mom called home
As tears filled my eyes
I could smell the smoke
As I approached my door
I didn’t know exactly what I was in store for
The beautiful memories on the wall gone
Much of the pictures that we all treasured
Much of the priceless artifacts we retained from traveling
Much of the furniture
Much of my mom’s last purchases
Much of my family’s history
Lost in piles of ashes
Several days and months went by
Thankful for the love and support
Of family and close friends
I was able to stay positive
Trying to rebuild from scratch
‘Cause what else was there to do
Creating a go fundme page was suggested
But my pride wouldn’t let me do it
I worked tirelessly
Drowning my pain and sorrow
Feeling hopeless
Losing sight of my reality
Numbing my depressed mind
With gifts
Not trying to guilt trip
Possible scenarios
Left me realizing
I had to stop feeling sorry for myself
Instead, find hope
And persevere
I had to remember to make my mama proud
Though rebuilding takes time
I knew I had to start to make my remodeled apartment
My home again!

There are very few things about myself that I take pride in
But at 26 years old, I can say I take pride in the fact that I’ve never gotten into a fist fight.
I mean aside from the lack of appeal in the concept of consenting to another person damaging my face, it all just seems so kerbobbled.
It’s also because I think, I may, probably, possibly, definitely lose.
However, Theres always an exception. And in my case, two.
I know when it comes down to a fight for my siblings, I will not lose.
My brother, more gold than that bridge spanning across the San Francisco Bay, I’ve found my god and those promised pearly gates through the beam in his eyes.
My sister, nothing less than a generator of majesty and the receptacle of my divinity’s origin, She is the source of light my destiny clings to.
Both, an embodied compilation of so many of my victories, I have yet lost a fight when it comes to them.
I fought for our sanctuary to remain a home even after the invasion and crumbled into a warzone.
I fought for innocence to remain the outfit we could still wear because trauma didn’t quite suit us yet.
For our skin to remain as sacred as an impromptu roast session or a 3-man bedroom party.
For arguments to remain as simplistic as who hid the TV remote when everything around us was out of control.
For hugs to hold us together while we fell apart.
For laughter to be the portal that returned us bring us back to each other on the days we didn’t know who to blame or to hate or where to start.
I fought against the lonely that lingered in the shadows of a 3am, for it to never distort us into believing a 6am sun would never rise in us again.
My siblings are the breath and life to every one of my words that became a corpse muted by the midnight valley known as myself.
I’m 30 now and while the list of things I take pride in has expanded exponentially, so has my understanding in the realization that I’ve actually spent my whole life fighting.
Its been 509 days since my sibilings and I have been apart and lately it seems I’m only fighting for my desire to keep fighting.
My mournings feel like eternities of disbelief.
My daze feel like seas of grief.
My knights feel armored with defeat
And yet,
Time reminds me that fighting is revolutionary.
It pays homage to our ancestors who fought for us before and preserves our legacy for those who are sure to come after.
If we listen close enough, we can hear the wind whisper that it’s almost 6am and we’re so close to rising again.

Even everything
is nothing until it is free-
Stability in insecurity.
Dependable: independent.

Exhausted: motivated-
Weakness mirrors strength.
Liberation & flexibility
strength is having no needs.

Resilience- divine
breaking silence,
power through pain.
Vulnerability- resplendent.

Humble: malleable
peace through pain.
Adaptability is key,
shedding of the ego.

Admitting the desire
to change and grow
asking for help;
while retaining pride in yourself.

Get back up, through all of the shouts and pain

Forgive your faults and ignore rude comments

Through only your eyes can you see your gain

Walk out of the dark and own the moments

Show them who you are, it’s time to commence

Your wants are vast, and all achievable

Stand up tall, like a horse in its stable

Now try and try as you must persevere

You can win this, you are more than able

You won’t give up and you cannot stop here

My childhood had exceptional ups and crummy downs. I also wasn’t the most well-mannered daughter. My mom always did the best that she could with what she had. Those are some of my best memories. Working 3 jobs and I was helping her with one. I could’ve done better, but I learned my lesson. I understand now that is how life is. One thing I also know now that I didn’t know then was that parents understand you. They know what they are talking about when they are having an important conversation with you, so make sure you listen. It’s for a reason and it doesn’t make sense at the moment. It makes little sense until later, when you least expect it.Ever since I can remember, we mainly lived in apartments and my mom was usually the on-site manager. It was always small communities, but it was home. I always enjoyed helping my mom and I would see my mom and how she was with the residents. At 16, she started having me help with a few tasks like answering calls, setting up showings, collecting rent and writing out the receipt. I hoped to be outside playing with my friends. Whenever my mom would ask me to help her, I would make faces. I was thinking my mom wouldn’t see. I just found out a few weeks ago that she knew all along. We can laugh about it now   It is something that I feel she was pushing on to me and was looking for other options to do after I finished school. I did one fast food job, which wasn’t for me. I had one retail job which also wasn’t for me. Since I had helped by mom, I had some experience in office work, so I got one job in property management. I was the leasing agent and who would’ve known that I would be so good at it? I stayed there for almost a little over 2 years.I moved and did retail pharmacy for 6 years; I did because I had to, not because I wanted to. The only bright side is I would see my coworkers. Property management was still a topic I would like to discuss. I’d offer advice to the customers when they’d mention something about the apartment they were living in. I quit my retail pharmacy job and didn’t know where I was going to next. It seems like no matter what I did, my heart was always with property management. I prayed and believed that if property management was truly my calling, an opportunity would present itself, considering my 10 years of experience.  I got hired by a temp agency telling them I wanted to try this again. Since it was a while, I preferred to go the temp route. I went to one position and I remember how excited I was to be there. That specific situation did not feel right, so I called the agency and they switched me right away. Speaking up instead of remaining silent was a moral decision, and I’m glad I made it. Because I respectfully advocated for myself, I accepted a temporary position with another company. I love to help and learn as much as I can, so I was excited to be a temp with this company. I have a tendency to ask what feels like a thousand questions. The people I would talk to were so helpful, understanding that I had limitations in my ability to help. I had to keep learning and continue to wait for an opportunity to show mainly myself that I can do it. The opportunity to prove myself showed up, and I showed out. It felt amazing to know I was on the right track. I got hired by the company. I worked for the company and gave it my all so much that my 1 year review was proof that I sure can do this and I succeeded. There was another opportunity that appeared and it was a company that I had worked for about 10 years ago. I love how life comes full circle. I didn’t have the experience back then that I did now.I ended up getting a job as an on-site manager. Once I was moving in, I called my mom. I told her thank you for showing me at the age that she did and for believing in me. I apologized for my behavior from when I was younger. It seems like my mom knew what she was talking about. She had seen something in me I didn’t and it took me time to believe that I can do it. I am so proud of myself for not giving up and believing in myself and being able to be a part of a community, just as I always have been. Home is where the heart is and for me, that’s being a part of a community. I am proud of myself for not giving up. It took sometime to believe in myself like my mom believed in me. I’d always remind myself that nothing worth having comes easy. If it was easy, then everyone would do it. That’s why it feels so great when you achieve it. Only you know how much you worked for that. No one sees your struggles behind closed doors and those are the toughest battles, but it’s ok you can do this because you deserve it.

That Time I didn’t give up.
I was in crisis feeling lifeless, but that didn’t mean that I loved life less. I just know I had to pass life’s test.
I had more blessings to go in my cup.
I had so much love.
Which is why I’m grateful for that time that I didn’t give up.
That time I didn’t give up.
Let me count the ways.
I gotta give God Praise.
I cherish my life that can’t be erased.
Remember you are strong and you are more than enough.
This life is so crazy rough.
Which is why I’m grateful for that time I didn’t give up.