I had been imprisoned once, held captive by the powers that be. Small and alone within a cage, biting and clawing to find my way out. I felt lost, alone and filled to the brim with despair. Within the fortress was a tiny barred window fixed above. A tiny spider dangled from a web and the sun shone through a film, years of grime and dust painting the cell in rose gold bathing me in its warm light. Washing over my external self and soothing spaces where hurt and sadness had filled prior. I prayed in my bed staring at concrete walls and begging God to help me heal and find a way out of the mess I had found myself in. I had been stripped of my housing, my children, my lover, my family and all worldly possessions and all that had remained was me in this space with a thread of hope to either hold on to or hang myself up with. In these moments I had two choices. Grow bitter, cold, hard and uncaring or remain soft, innocent, compassionate and loving. I chose love. And the door swung open to my cell allowing me freedom to rebuild that which had been lost. I nurtured myself daily, wiping ash from my brow and cheekbone and allowing them to settle where they had belonged. I attended classes and therapy, taking all that they had offered in. Learning to set goals and work on them achieving things I had thought id never achieve before. Prior to being imprisoned I had no idea what would become of me. Had I continued on my path those around me would surely have influenced me into my grave. Misery loving company old aged cliches. Dusty being that had given up on the search for threads of hope and change. Stagnant and never growing out of the pit they had found themselves in. I found myself a cozy apartment with a ball and chain around my ankle. Keeping me imprisoned again but this time within four rooms and a hallway. However I was content and happy as many windows allowed the light to shine through and caress me in its healing warmth. I wrote poetry, and kept to myself, cutting off the ties to the past and starting to begin again. I began building my credit and paying the bills. Eventually graduating from that stage of my life and purchasing a home instead of renting a four roomed dungeon. At first I was angry and bitter at the men that had come to place me in captivity. But seeing the brighter side of things I see it had turned my life around. I grew, flourished, found myself to be hardworking and a achiever. Unsure of the future but content with the path I had been set upon. What had left me caged for a period of time could have very well of been the very thing that had saved my life. My emotions gentle, swirled watercolors against a bright open canvas. So much to add and little to take away. Forever grateful for my higher power and those who pulled me from destruction.

Dear Unsealers,

The moment that changed my life happened on a random Thursday in August of 2002. However, when it happened, I didn’t know my life would change.

But I’m getting ahead of myself here…

We have to go back to the summer of 2001.

I had a pair of surgeries on my right leg. This was the third round of surgery on my leg in an attempt to fix a deformity that had been with me since childhood. The most profound complication that having cerebral palsy brought into my life. Seven stitches and three pins in my middle toes. I was bedridden for most of the summer and at a shallow point. But I knew that I couldn’t give up on myself so easily.

Nine months of physical therapy would follow. Twice a week after school, I would travel to the Hospital For Special Surgery on the east side of Manhattan. It wasn’t easy, as my knee stiffened up in the process. In time, I would go from a wheelchair to a walker and a cane before ultimately ending up with a brace on my right leg.

On this particular Thursday, I went to visit with my surgeon. At the end of the appointment, he uttered these words: you can take the brace off.

I looked at him dumbfounded, and a bit terrified. I hadn’t taken a step forward without help in some time. But he wasn’t kidding, I could take the brace off my leg.

As I did, I took the first step forward. A beaming smile came across my face and so did it on the face of my mother. I took a few steps more after that.

All the memories of doctor’s appointments, orthopedics, and surgeries faded away. I could feel my self-esteem starting to come back after a lifetime of feeling terrible about myself with all the other complications.

With perfect timing too, as my senior year of high school was close at hand. I couldn’t wait to show everyone my leg without the brace there.

This was the moment when I was reborn.

To know you now, is to know you then
…even if I didn’t.

I thought I did, but now..
I’m certain that I didn’t.

I felt the love, the way you wanted
until,
I just…didn’t.

It hurts my heart,
what I thought was you and now I see isn’t.

To know you now, is to accept
what I didn’t see
what I wouldn’t hear before…

and wonder if you can finally feel
all that is unspoken…
forevermore.

To know you now, is to long for all that could be…should be
that and so many memories more…

But in the end,
to know you saved me
and also crushed me to my core.

I don’t think I will ever have THAT kind of strength again. As I review every month in my mind – my eyes water, my heart stings, I can’t breathe.
With each passing month, I ebb between gladness and sorrow. I push through. My mind fogs some, and I’m grateful. Clarity hurts. To believe in Truth and then have it snatched away is a punch, confusing at best.
I know that stillness heals. Not at first, but in time. Though kindness is at bay, I reach and hope for connection.
When darkness falls, I refuse to give in. I stay alert. I stay here.
I am tender under the weight. I see you too. There is more. The work, the very hard work, and the claiming pay off. Let’s finish well. Forgive.
Jump start tomorrow. Keep believing this path is good and necessary and yours. Announce it. The line no longer matters.
I hear the cheers. 5, 4, 3, 2, 1
© Stephanie Connors
Midnight written March 2020

life how quickly and swiftly things can change within a snap of a finger your life can never, may ever not be the same the day i got questioned into thinking my thinking wasn’t even my own thinking

of being on earth but listen there’s two things in this world being sane or insane but crazy is what most people would say or label you just because of one bad episode you had within your own television show

you watched that personal day the show wasn’t really that good but in the ending why did it end badly?

Like some people would question and say but that’s just like people who can’t help but control majority of their emotions and feelings when they don’t know what’s GOING ON , ON, TURN ON!!!!

that television for what’s about to happen that day but then comes drama in every show

now all of a sudden all things change the character, the time, the places, the plot even the EPISODE NAME but CRAZY is what you, you, him, her, she, them, they, whatever what people would say

because you don’t recognize change you don’t know how it feels to be sane then insane then
crazy for that specific day but SPECIAL BEING, Great individual, Intelligent person, caring, motivational, humanitarian, lovely is one word to
call it

Especially when it comes to me Tionna Elandria Hilliard you don’t recognize or could even acknowledge mental health as being crazy or insane like almost every ignorant person would think to say or rub off on special being in a way

The gravitational pull
To something merely as
The birth of a star,
Could it be the poisoning rain
With the parasitic thoughts
That suggest otherwise?
Or the light that illuminates the darkness
That never had the empowerment
Of a savior to its own?
How about the adrenaline
From a sky dive momentum
That compels your weakness
To be worn as a tattoo…
The art of letting go precisely
Beckons the angel of death
Despite the strength to walk on water.
It is apparent to the bravery
Against the war ahead?
Nothing is ostensible
When it harbors a purpose.

To my Mother,

I wanted to tell you that I love my job and I love my home. I love my jeep and my boat and my 2 little dogs and my husband. For the first time in my life ever I feel like I’m on stable ground. I feel secure in my job and in my marriage. I make really good money and my husband supports me and cares about me.
What I wanna say next is gonna be hard for me cuz it brings me back to the evening I called my lawyer and told her I don’t wanna fight for my daughter in court anymore. I cried into the phone pretty much broken and I told her that I’d rather be happy than be right and that’s what I really want. So you are right! I chose a man over my kids. I chose to move on from my divorce to marry a new and really kind man. You are absolutely right! It’s not an easy thing to say cuz you did that to me and I’m so unbelievably sorry if my you feel that way. I know how that feels. It like breaks you from the inside out. I really wish you didn’t feel like that. What I really wish is that you knew how much you mean to me. Cuz if you can feel what I feel, my heart is pretty much broken without you!

I chose a man over my kids! I will say that a million times if it means that I will break that cycle!

You told me once that I study the word from my mind! Maybe you were right about that too but not anymore. I just wanna know why I never ever saw a Bible in your hand. You never studied all the heroes from the past. You never told me that after Noah got off the ark that he got drunk and fell asleep naked outside his tent. You never told me that David’s family never believed in him and was even condescending to him. You never told me that Joseph forgave his brothers for selling him into slavery only after their acts of repentance. And you never told me that when you choose to give your life to Christ, a certain conviction is released in your soul that transforms who you are. All you ever talked about was “forgive and forget!” Tell me why I shouldn’t practice what you preached now. That I should forgive you and forget you too! All my life, I have been searching for a lifeline and I thought it was you but it wasn’t cuz you cut it in half over and over and over again.

You told me once that I was nothing but a crybaby and you know what. You were right about that too! But at least I cried! And you were a really big part of that. I can’t go around acting like nothing is wrong anymore. I can’t bury things under the rug anymore. God can’t forgive anyone if it’s still hidden under there! With absolutely no acknowledgement, no repentance, no answers. No change!

I do agree that this huge division in our family comes from judgements. My daughter judging me, me judging you! Everyone in the family judging each other. Honestly it’s easy to bring up what happened 30 years ago when I’m the one being judged today. Especially since it’s never ever been resolved. I guess in the end that really doesn’t matter. What matters to me was that it was a really terrible thing that happened but I was the only one who stood by you after I had to testify to put my stepfather in prison for sexually abusing me. I was the only one who defended you for years. I never cared what your part was in it because the only thing I saw was how much it hurt you. I would never wish that on anyone. But you did that to me because of a judgment that was never ever resolved. That you never resolved. You agreed to testify against me in the custody trial over my daughter’s custody case just so you can prove that I’m just as bad as you. If you need to portray me as this person who’s just as bad as you are, then I’m good with that. I’m human and I know I make mistakes. I’m flawed and I’m not always right. But I never agreed to testify against you. That was never ever my choice and it destroyed me for years after. You turned her back on me and helped my daughter judge me after I stood by you for so long. We are not the same.
But I do forgive you for my own peace of mind. I forgive you, like I always have!

Matthew chapter 18: 21-22 says that Peter asked the Lord how many times may my friends sin against me and how many times must I forgive them. The Lord answered him, I say to you not 7 times but 70 times 7.
When I think about this verse, I think about you!
I really don’t want to forgive you. But I will. I will because the devil don’t want me too. I will because I’m done with my walk of shame! But most of all, I want my freedom like God promised! I will because i choose Grace instead of retaliation, like you! I’m doing it because you don’t have much longer on this earth & I want both of us to have Peace before you go!

And honestly, what I have learned in the whole grand scheme of things is that I want to do it for nothing in return. I don’t need your approval. I don’t need your validation. I don’t need your acceptance. I don’t need your apology. I don’t need your respect. I don’t even need a response. I don’t need it from anyone but myself! Anything you have, I don’t want it anymore. I used to need all of that in a bad way. That’s why I kept going back to you. But I know now that you can’t give me what you do not have!

Your Daughter!

Dear You,
From the day you were born, you had trouble.
Your parents always told you, “if you were the first you would have been the last.”
Your siblings always called you “fat lips” or “venus fly trap.”
Your friends always criticized you for asking “stupid” questions.
The hard truth is, you just didn’t know.
You thought you were going to be the highschool dropout, the failure of the family, the
kid that people always called “not the brightest crayon in the box” because you couldn’t read, or
write, or count, or do anything in particular.
Your looks were average, your learning capabilities were below average, so what could
you do to make it to the top of the food chain?
Absolutely nothing.
Cry yourself to sleep, harm yourself until your Mom screams at you and your Granny
tells you how disappointed she is. But it’s okay, you only wanted the attention anyway.
To feel loved, really.
You went from school, to school, to school.
Teachers could not teach,
Kids laughed at you for getting the answer wrong,
And you hated yourself.
Your favorite color was blue, you loved to read, and lacrosse was your escape from
reality.

You finally found your way up the food chain, you were athletic, you were called a
daredevil for the crazy things you did, but sometimes, you felt scared.
Mom and Dad wanted you to play lacrosse in college, but you were barely getting
through elementary school, middle school, high school. Everything was so pointless and you just
wanted to lay in bed until your Dad yelled at you to do something, anything, anywhere.
You found joy when you got two kittens. You named them Sassy and Buddy. They helped
you through the pandemic.
You got to snuggle them and they would never tell you anything that you didn’t want to
hear.
They only ever loved you.
You were diagnosed with mental disorders and learning disabilities.
Buddy had emergency surgery. He didn’t make it. Neither did your old dog, Lexi. Your
world shattered.
You vowed to cherish your animals for as long as possible. You vowed to take photos of
them whenever you could. You never know when they will leave this world.
You tried to be happy for the people around you. For your friends, your siblings, your
parents and teachers and anyone else who cared. It was always so, so hard.
You rediscovered your love for writing. Your teacher at your new school cared about you
and looked out for you. You made new friends. You committed to a college to play lacrosse. You
felt like you were healing.
You got into that college. You went to a suicide victim’s funeral, and then another. You
became angry at them, for leaving such a beautiful world. But then you remembered how ugly it
had been to you.

You moved away to college. You went to your Grand Dad’s funeral. You had a hard time
fitting in. You had to put down one of your horses at home on the farm. Your confidence was
faltering. But your academics were the only thing that mattered.
A’s and B’s. No more, no less. If you fail, your whole life would be for nothing. Your
dreams would be lost. Fail and you lose.
You enter your second year of college, and you confessed to your teammate that you
weren’t happy. You confessed to yourself at that moment, and you cried. She tells you that she
loves you, and she’ll help you get through this. Your other teammates are nicer to you, they talk
to you and involve you in things. It makes you happy to feel loved.
Even when it may not be real.
In your heart it’s real. It will help you feel better about yourself.
You vowed to love everyone so they never feel how you did for your entire life.
You vowed to heal.
Your journey isn’t over, and you have a long way to go. But through the ups and downs
you finally feel like you’re ready to find peace with yourself.
Dear You,
Thank you for loving you when no one else would.
You’ve been through so much.

Best,

16 years old being taken from my mom.
”what did I do mom?”
moving from place to place.
asking my caseworker if I’ll ever be happy again,
never getting an answer.
some places I would have to stay at,
I would get my life ripped from me.
even times where,
they would hurt me.
but every caseworker I ever had,
if I told them I would be told,
”you’re just looking for attention.”
but I wasn’t.
when I turned 18 they couldn’t find me a placement.
so they told me
we are probably gonna leave you,
to live on the streets.
that terrified me thinking, am I that horrible?
I decided I would go get a job.
if they won’t help me, I’ll help myself.
but right as I got a job
my caseworker told me I’m apparently
not allowed to get a job.
I told them I understood but kept the job behind their backs.
eventually they found a place for me.
so I packed my one bag together and went with them there.
right from the start I had my guard up.
I went to independent living apartments so I was stuck with workers still.
at least I have my own little apartment.
continuing to push myself in work and school.
learning to count on myself instead of others for help.
starting in my free time writing.
reflecting on what has all happened.
”I still don’t understand why I was treated like this.”
”this is why I wanna be a caseworker”
”show kids more respect and what kindness feels like”
now 19 years old starting college late September
moved into an adult foster home with lovely folks who I consider family.
starting to experience what happiness and love actually feels like.
loving myself for who I am.
knowing nobody needs to change for others.

Cold, antiseptic air crushes down upon my chest
as barely padded steel pushes back from the other side,
effectively pinning my teenage body to a table
in a darkened room I don’t want to be in.
A heartbeat pounds in my ears— too fast
to be mine, yet instantly mine.
I watch the screen flutter with blurred vision,
regret for what I was there to do soaking my shamed face,
igniting a fierce protectiveness older than time.
My mind reaches outward to thank God
for orchestrating my enlightenment
and the pressure dissipates, replaced by determination that’s both weightless and dense.
Visions of my future shift faster than high-frequency sound images freeze and unfreeze,
their light searing fate’s Morse code into my consciousness
and I know with absolute certainty that any plans I had dreamt up
before this moment were imagined for an alternate self—
one who wasn’t yet strong enough to tackle life for two.

Holidays, After school,
Just because or just for fun,
Anyday; was always cool.
Grandma cooking,
Granddad pranking,
Cousins always laughing, playing.
Backyard baseball, candyland,
Power Rangers, boy life was grand.
Summer vacation, so much fun!
Theater, theme parks;
the ocean, the sun!
Years go by, now moved in.
Granddad gets sick, starts to forget.
We’ve all grown, life continues,
Now Granddad is gone.
We passed the tissues.
Grandma kept cooking and caring for cousins.
Then spent nearly a year exploring and living her fullest
Sadly soon her children would go to war over her possessions.
I sat alone in that house that helped raise me and the other generations.
Watching the walls and shelves slowly go bare
Crying, no one to answer my questions.
Where will I go and who will be with me?
Who could replace the persons now missing?
Not a drug. Not a drink.
Not a man. Not a shrink.
Now, a decades gone by and the lessons grown clear.
Genetics skip a generation.
So their greatness would be saved for those they held most dear!