I used to feel undesirable, like I was the end slice. I was passed by like those who blow right through the yellow light. Time and time again the ones who set my heart of fire, never saw me as the one that they desired.
“I’m unloveable, inadequate, who would ever want me?” Those were the words of my personal truth that were more deep-seated than the deepest sea.

On Valentines Day especially, I thought I would like a teddy bear, a rose, and hearing an, “I love you.” It’d be nice to add my name to a waiting list as a party of two.

Then, one day reality hit. I changed my thoughts, my ways, and rewrote the script. How could I expect to be loved by someone else if I did not even learn to love myself? I became my own lover. No, not like that. Get your minds out of the gutter. I just realized that self-pity was wack.

I’m my own Valentine. I don’t need a man to wine and dine. I take myself out, knowing that no matter what I do. I deserve to see and experience things I’ve always wanted to. I don’t need a better half, for I am whole. Keep your empty words, and trinkets. I’m worth more than gold.

“Oh, just one?” the host asks in a tone of voice as sad as he or she thinks I should be. “Just one” is plenty. A party of one is still a party; and, I can enjoy just being with me.

Remember these words when you too are down about not having a hand to hold. It truly is a choice whether or not you create your own solace in solitude, or a prison where you feel lonely and left out in the cold.

A gem that hasn’t been claimed or adorned, is still a gem nonetheless. Self love is a daily choice. It’s not easy, like Britney, I too must confess.

The reality of life is that many won’t always catch your vibes and want you by their side. However, there will be those who reciprocate and draw nearer. Overall, what matters most is that the one who knows your worth is the one looking back at you in the mirror.

I was born three months early to a drug addicted mother. My foster parents, who became my adoptive parents, showed me all the tender love and care I needed to help me get healthy. They kept me from meeting a fate of becoming a vegetable or dying, both of which the doctor said were my only two options in life.

While I appreciate their many sacrifices, I know that what you do for someone does not make up for what you do TO them. I experienced nearly every form of trauma in my life as I got older. I also witnessed a great of trauma.

All of that to say, I became an extremely miserable person. I was constantly depressed, I suffered from an eating disorder, (trigger warning) and even engaged in self-injurious behavior.

I recall praying to God to be someone else, whether it was a schoolmate with whom I was enamored, or a member of my favorite girl group. I was so disappointed to wake up as “just me.” I recall thinking God had let me down, allowing me to be abused in the womb, and “rescued” by a family that would later disappoint and harm me, while on the outside we seemed like a happy family.

One day, God did make me someone else; but, it was not in the way I had hoped. Through allowing positive individuals to speak hope and encouragement into my life, and shifting my perspective, I realized that I could not change the hand that I was dealt; but, it was up to me whether or not I would wallow in self-pity or use my story to inspire others.
I realized I could seek to live a life of success and happiness, as opposed to being a victim of my circumstances.

Therefore, I decided to learn how to become my own friend, rather than own worst enemy. I learned to express gratitude; and, rather than see difficulties as confirmation of my lack of favor with God, they became opportunities to learn, to grow, and to inspire those that cross my path.

Professionally, I became a mental health therapist. Personally, I learned to be more compassionate, as well as someone who can make others laugh, not just someone who always complained and sought sympathy.

Want me to prove it? *Ahem* Why did they make Finding Dory? I’d say it’s because if Nemo kept getting lost, they’d have to call CPS. Actually, Sea PS.

(Admit it, you smiled) Being able to use humor to cope, and mustering up the courage to fight against my insecurities to start my modeling career in 2021, does not mean I do not shed tears and experience physical and emotional pain.

I’ve learned what I wish everyone could learn early in life, which is that you may have your problems; however, your problems don’t have to have nor define you. Whether you experienced bad womb service, abuse, poverty, you name it, tragic beginnings do not mean you cannot choose to create a triumphant trajectory in life. I say create intentionally because I also realized I could wish upon stars and pray all day long, (I swear my guardian angel must be exhausted). However, it is up to me to actively form meaningful connections, pursue the opportunities I desire, and choose to give myself that glimmer of hope through a favorite song, a walk, or whatever my soul craves during the darkest moments.

His legal name is Marcus, to my sister, Pops.
To me he’s always been Nam, from the age of 3 and 4 to even when I was working at IHOP. Large in stature, and quite a clown. I was seldom sad with him around.

When I was a little girl, you were the greatest daddy in the land. Over time, we grew apart, I saw the chinks in your armor, you saw my attitude. Sometimes I thought life dealt me a bad hand.

You see, I like your humor and your deep belly laughs. Sometimes I needed deep, serious conversation when I would beckon, “Dad?”

Through the lessons in life and the things I learned in school, I realized despite your shortcomings, to deny your love for me would make me look a fool.

Seldom would a tear come to your eye; but, you cried rivers when you thought there would be no more you and I. My bio dad said you wept on his shoulder begging him not to take me away. You received new hope and faith when you learned I was back to stay.

You were there for my operation, and when I was so weak from my ED I needed to be spoon-fed. Helen Keller could see how much you love me; and, how fortunate I am to call you Dad. I know now you couldn’t give the kind of support you never had.

To think I could unlove you was such a mistake. When I read the words, “He has cancer and three months to live” caused my heart to break. I came back to the nest to be by your side. I held your hand, played your favorite songs, and listened as you cried.

You told me the song you would want to hear for the father-daughter dance on my wedding day. It pains me so to know you won’t be able to give me away.

You always sailed through life, never as rigid as I. Therefore, in your honor, as I end this, I’ll resist the urge to rhyme.

Nam was but a mere nickname without meaning for so long; but, realizing that we share are connection so deep that is never beyond repair, here’s what Nam now stands for:
Never give up
Always have faith
Miracles happen.

Instead of Namaste, Nam, I’ll stay cherishing the many memories of you. Our journey inspires me to stay strong knowing that no matter what, love is the most powerful force that can keep me afloat amidst the most trying times. As you’re looking down on me, I’ll keep moving forward with my head up.

Jess, dry your eyes. Don’t let the haters dim your light. The negative things they say about you are a myth. Realize now that you are worthy just because you exist. That chick who sees you in the hall, who laughs and glares, she like many others cannot handle that you’re rare. Don’t let them get to you. Stop believing that you need to morph into someone else. They’re no authority on who you should be. They don’t know or love themselves. You’ve always been a fighter since before you were born. Abused in the womb, three months early you debuted, nurses held you and were forlorn. You’ll learn to light that spark in you and turn it into a flame. Your story will bring others hope, the battle won’t be in vain. Hang in there. It may feel at times like your darkest hour. If only you knew, the struggle is real; AND, so is your power.

I’m grateful that what once would have shaken me to my core, now shows me I’m
destined for more. Believe it or not, even after losing a full-time job unexpectedly, I’m in a state of peace and flow with the universe. I may have anxiety and depression ; BUT, now, they no longer have me.

Every little thing IS g̶o̶n̶n̶a̶ ̶b̶e̶ alright. 🧘🏽‍♀️
My faith is being tested immensely on the brink of some significant changes; but, I know everything falls in place for my highest good. Life has shown me that often the longer it takes for me to get what I’m asking for, things work out better than expected. The space in-between the flows of abundance, and how you use your time and energy matters just as much, if not more than your winning season. Instead of sulking in despair, I’m enjoying life with friends, new and old, and giving thanks for what’s to come, knowing that what is meant for me cannot come into my life until what is not for me is removed.
This season has given me a deeper appreciation for unexpected blessings, generosity from others, and I’m constantly reminded that just like the Phoenix rises from the ashes, I have always been stronger than anything that has ever had the potential to break me. The 22nd of this month was the anniversary of my father’s passing & my cousin’s heavenly birthday. I have cried over their transitions; but, I also take heart in knowing my team of guardian angels is stronger than ever.

My nickname for my dad was Nam. So instead of Namaste, Nam, I’ll stay in my peace as I allow things to fall into place, piece by piece.

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

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