The past still haunts me when I pull into certain places. I can still feel your grip. I thought I made amends with it, but it still makes itself known as a horrible nightmare that won’t go away. It’s been seven years now and it can still make me cry. You probably don’t even remember.

I had been running errands all day and had to stop and use the restroom. The closest one available was the one I didn’t want to stop at. Damn! That would mean I would have to go out of my way to find a different one. It had been seven years since I had been in that gas station. God, I don’t want to go in there. This is so stupid! Jesus, it’s been seven years. That’s it I’m going in. I am so tired of you still dictating where I go. You probably don’t even remember.

So, I parked my car, and stomping my feet I went in. As soon as the door shut, I was brought back to that night. I honestly don’t remember why you even got mad. Wait it’s the reason you always got angry. Jealously of some made-up thoughts or ideas in your mind of me being with someone else. The funny thing is I was always with you even when I didn’t want to be and that was a lot of the time. I remember you dropping me off at Walmart and threatening to leave me again like you did. So I ran to that gas station. You probably don’t even remember.

You would do that a lot drive around endlessly never taking me home. I felt like I was in your car for days staring out the window…oh wait I was. I remember you asking me “What are you doing?’ I said, “reading all the signs.” I thought if someone could hear me then they would know where I am and maybe they will find me. You know if I ended up dead. You would then threaten to leave me at some faraway place with no phone and no money. Standing there in the parking lot helpless and hopeless. You probably don’t even remember.

God what is that smell…oh I’m still in the bathroom. I was pretty sure you were going to hit me again. So, I locked myself in that nasty stall, so I felt safe. Then the knock came along with your voice and as scared as I was, I let you in. Damn, why did I always let you in? You pushed your way in and grabbed my neck and shoved me up against the wall. I honestly can’t recall what you said. My mind just shut down and then you left. I slowly opened the door and went out I didn’t see your car thank God. So, I ran to Walmart only to find you there. Looking left and then to my right not a car in sight. Damn, why did I always get in? It’s finally starting to fade the memories of you. Thank God I can’t make your face out I guess my brain is shielding me from you.
You probably don’t even remember.

Why can’t I love him?
He makes me all tingly in the morning leaving me begging for more.
Why can’t I love him?
His Cheshier smiles draw me in and hypnotizes me.
Why can’t I love the way he kisses me?
As if my kisses alone are the fountains of youth to my soul.
Why can’t I love the way he speaks?
With that accent that leaves me like putty in his hands.
Why can’t I love the way he cuddles me in his arms?
He shields me from the world.
Why can’t I love the way he laughs?
His laugh Ignites a spark in my heart that brings me pure joy.
Why can’t I love the way he takes care of me?
He makes me feel safe for the first time in a decade.
Now tell me why I can’t love this man.

Today I was driving rushing and running on my 30-munitue lunch break. Hurring to get back to work to eat my fried shrimp and for a moment I thought I saw you. For the first time I didn’t get scared. Anxiety didn’t run the show, and I didn’t have to stop my mind from going down that rabbit hole. Instead, I parked the car smiled to myself the biggest smile and almost cried. Not because I am sad but because for the first time, I didn’t get scared. I realized just how strong I am and the scars that you left have healed. I didn’t get that pit in my stomach, and I didn’t lose control. I held my head high, stood my ground and I didn’t have to fight with my former self. For the first time in 6 years, I didn’t get scared. Anxiety didn’t run the show, and I didn’t have to stop my mind from going down that rabbit hole. Today was the day I realized I was free.

A symbol of love , a reminder of warring bloodshed,
Such is the dichotomy
That lies in the power of the color red.

Red is willpower, the mind of “She”

She who is openly strong
She who is secretly kind.
Cheering from the front
But lingering 2 steps behind.

Red is bold, the exclusivity of “She”
She who is reclusive
A rare treasure to find.

Red is danger, the strength of “She”
Red is this fiery woman
The little girl has dared one day to be.

Red is desire, the passion of “She”
A shade depicting her struggles,
A sign of her unwavering, rebellious thought.
Color of the scars from all the battles she fought.

When she needed to stand out, it was her color of choice,
The color of celebration,
Color of her freedom, her will, her voice.

“The two important days in your life are the day you are born and the day you find out why”-Mark Twain.
Life’s numerical milestones have changed .
I view 46 as 30+ 16 rather than 50-4 Mathematically and philosophically.
46 was a nameless nobody . Turning 46 just meant a step closer to the golden years and nothing more than that.
But now , this previously insignificant number has a whole glamour quotient of its own. A modern day new kinda big deal .
Feeling “ 45+1” or “almost 46” does sorta have a grounding undertone to it. A settling sense of self assuredness.
Chances are at this juncture, you are where you shall be for the rest of your life..atleast in most aspects of your life.
So it’s best to acknowledge all of it , embrace it, celebrate the done-its and get over the have-nots.
My so-called big birthday beckons me in a few days. And I feel fine. In reality, I feel more than just fine.I feel feisty and fine. Each day bringing with it an epiphany of sorts. The realization that aging gracefully means learning to detach and step back . Ironically, learning the art of detachment is not a lesson in learning to let go.
It actually involves quite the opposite. It involves recognizing and holding on to all that is relevant and enriching. And no , age is not just a number. How we wish it was! It is way more layered than that.
Physically, the 45 year old body is not and organically should not be what it used to be . Aging naturally is the sign of a life well lived. Trying to reverse age, is trying to relive a life that wasn’t done right the first time.
Mentally, growing older is freeing. With my absolute abandon and unapologetic arrogance , I sense and honestly quite like the new me emerging-subtle silver streaks, sagginess, striations , self love et all! I feel old enough to recognize my mistakes but young enough to make some more!
So bring on my birthday baby, let the wisdom grow and show! On my face, on my cake!
My dear age-Add those candles with each passing year as you wish, but you can never blow out the fire that gets fiercer every minute within me!

Dear little me,

This is not even a dream that you know you have yet, but oh how I wish I could tell you how brave you are going to be one day! How you will burst out of the role you think you are meant to play. A lot has changed since we were small, but the goodness inside you was a part of it all.

In your twenties, on a seemingly random day and not in any way planned, you will get to come out to mom and dad. Notice I said, “get to,” because for awhile you will think that no one needs to know. Being honest with ourselves about it was such a fight in the first place. Then gradually we told a few safe people, dear friends and allies who embrace us fully as we were. And we feel so lucky. But there is still some fear in expressing it to others, including some family, so we steer clear.

But then, on a day that did not start of grand and then continued to feel like it was getting more out of hand.. when mom tries to ask you what is going on inside, you start to open up about some questions and doubts you’ve been hiding. Then all of the sudden, without any warning, you blurt out, “Oh and by the way, I’m not straight!” It was probably a bit jarring.

You wait for the questions and badgering to start, but instead they let you talk and they listen with fairly open hearts. After that, I’ll be frank, it is not sunshine and roses. Along the way to understanding there have been plenty of bumpy roads.

And I know what you are thinking, because I think it a lot: why did we get lucky when so many do not? I wish I had an answer to that query, but the truth is that sometimes the answers can be very elusive and maybe some answers do not exist. There is a lot we still do not know, but let me scratch something from the list.

I know I am not a mistake, and that I deserve acceptance and kindness. I believe that is universal, no matter what some may say in their blindness. And while I am still growing and changing and discovering myself, I am learning not to hide away on a dark, shaded shelf.

Hugs to you, little one.

Dear readers,
Living your dreams is something we are told to do as children but, the second we realize what our dreams are, they seem impossible to achieve. Nursing school is hard, 4 years of medical school, 4 years of residency, you graduate to be a teacher only to realize teaching is not all it’s cracked up to be. But, with the right support of your friends and family, your dreams are possible! You will become the neurosurgeon you’ve always wanted to be. You will be that special education teacher you’ve always dreamed about. My only advice I have is to Live Your Dreams and Never Give Up!!

Dear Unsealers,
I don’t ever want to be empowered. Please don’t.
If you give me power, you can take it back.
If you find me in a place where I can’t find my power, help me search.
If you find me in a place where I lack courage, teach me something I couldn’t do before.
If you find me in a place where I have more reasons why I can’t, help me discover why I can.
If you see me sitting with boxes of self doubt, with bags of trauma, with a cart full of other’s opinions of me, don’t tell me what you think.
If you stay along side me, ask me what I can do, ask me how I triumphed over my trauma, what I think of myself.
If I understand what I think of myself, what I can do, and how experiences have created in me a richness of strength and emotion that is uniquely mine.
I will know these things are the rich colors in the tapestry of my life.
I will understand the knowledge of myself is far more accurate and important than the things i am told about me.
I will exercise and give strength to knowledge and the skills, confidence to be myself, in every way.
I will know the power that comes from within. I will give myself permission.
When I know the power of myself it cannot be taken.
Please don’t empower me.

At one point in my life I lived in my safe comfort zone, it was a great space at lease I thought it was, it was a fortress it even came with guard that kept a vigilant watch over my thoughts that occupied my brain telling me constantly that failure would come to me if I tried anything new and my best bet was to stay within the confides of the comfort zone don’t dream don’t envision anything outside the zone.

But I knew that I did not want to live a mediocre life but I wanted a life full of extraordinary things a purposeful life staying in the comfort zone became harder to do when there was much I wanted to do and become. Until one beautiful day I decided to take the leap of faith and drown out the voices that kept me bound stuck in time not moving forward at all. I enrolled in classes at an online university and took he leap to get my Bachelor’s degree in healthcare management, I first enrolled in classes not even having a working lap top computer, I knew I had time to figure that out later the classes were not going to start for another few weeks, but the first step was made I had left the comfort zone. I realized that nothing ventured nothing gained the first step is always the hardest. For the next two years I took my online classes toward my degree. It was an arduous journey faced with obstacles along the way so much happened in those two years, I learned many things about myself it tested my resolve and stretch me to capacity. I thank God for his grace I thanked God that he always sent me to help me with assignments when I have confused he sprinkled help along the way, I received support from family and friends that encouraged me when I wanted to quit and give up when the hills where to high and valleys were too low, they kept on track when I wanted to retreat and run back to the comfy zone closer to the shore, not out the middle where the tides and the currents where not always in my favor. Last year I graduated with my bachelor’s degree in healthcare management class of 2023,

What I learned along my educational journey and leaving my comfort zone: is the first step is absolutely the hardest and that no matter what I have something that nobody can take from me, and that knowledge in myself knowing that I can be anything I want to be and move forward no matter how small the step that I can have a purposeful life where I can help other people along this journey and that the next chapter of my story will be better than my first. To God is the glory the author and finisher of my fate.

what if you could not speak for two years
you only had your two ears
now you are listening to your peers
checking out Instagram, it appears
they got plenty of souvenirs, but yet volunteered in their careers

too afraid to be the engineers to forge a whole new frontier
paid education can teach us to adhere to the profiteer
head hunters poach us and sell us to the highest-bidding auctioneer

shit appears severe,
but you are a pioneer, fuck that career
this is the year to do something for the world that is truly dear to your heart
You are too smart not to start,
failure may come, you might have to restart
your heart be pure, but fear can outsmart
telling us that shit is too hard
don’t be jarred the universe has pulled your card

your ancestors are standing guard,
telling you to manifest your wildest dreams, they will safeguard
jump into the deep end the universe is your lifeguard
sending you messages in your dreams like postcards

When I was younger, I was enthusiastic about becoming an adult. I remember accompanying my mother to the stores and appreciating the attractiveness of women, notably those wearing high heels. I couldn’t wait to wear high heels someday, seeing them as a mark of elegance and maturity. However, as I grew older, being a woman quickly became a maze of anxiety and doubts. High heels went from emblems of grace to traps, rendering me too unstable to flee from danger.

I used to love happy meals with colourful boxes and amusing toys, but now every meal feels like a battlefield, with each mouthful swallowing every single thought in my mind.
I used to refrain from applying makeup because I felt desirable without it, but now I pile it on like a cheesecake, with each layer acting as a mask to conceal my actual nature.
As a child, I used to fall asleep at night fantasising about becoming an adult and falling in love, but I soon realised that love is unexpected and frequently chaotic.
The clothing I’m wearing now seems like chains, and I wish I could burn off my skin to relieve the misery.
My lips never feel full enough, my brows never look right, and the scars on my body convey things I’d rather forget.
My small love handles, once a source of innocence, now seem like anchors dragging me down.

Being a woman seems like walking a tightrope, with each step posing the risk of falling.
It’s a dance in a hall of mirrors, and each reflection changes my perception of myself.
I’m always balancing expectations, attempting to come to terms with who I want to be with and who society expects me to be.
My body feels like a battleground, and I’m fatigued from fighting.

The transition from childhood to maturity can be compared to traversing a deserted space, where the illusion of who I believed I would become vanishes with each step. My childhood dreams have faded into shadows under the harsh light of reality. I’m just tired of navigating this maze, where every path appears to lead to a dead end.