The Way to Grow

By Breanna Asada

About a year ago, on March 12th, I was at my best friend’s 21st birthday party. And my biggest worry was a job I interviewed for. “It’s been a few weeks and still no call,” I told one of my friends.

By the next month over; my best friend and I were going to have a night out. She ended up bailing on me for work. I was mad at the time; I didn’t text her back. I wonder now if I had back then, maybe I would have known what could have happened to her. The week or so after that; I ended the friendship with the girl I was at odds with. I’ve never done that before, but then again I’ve never felt freer. A month and a half later, I got the job.

Three weeks later in July is when I realized that I hadn’t heard from my best friend and couldn’t get a hold of her. None of my friends could either; not even when I asked the girl I was at odds with. I started posting video’s trying to see if anyone could find my best friend.

August second was the day I got my license and my Grandpa caught a bad cough. I was scared that he had finally got Covid. One week later I had gotten my license and he was diagnosed with cancer. And on August 15th was when my friend and I realized that my best friend had ghosted us.

September. Grandpa had started treatment. It took a toll on his body. He used to love cooking, but once Kemo started; that’s when we started to get takeout. October 14th is when my Dad and I got into a screaming match. I can’t tell you why; I don’t remember. What I do remember is the long drive I took afterwards. It still sounds so Grown-up of me. Riding to the next city over then down the strip.

October 18th, I was going to visit my Grandpa; at this point, he had been asleep for a few days straight now. This was my last chance to see him. I was in my car driving out of my neighborhood with a small vase I had made for him… I couldn’t do it.

I turned my car around and stayed home. I asked my Dad; who was already heading there, to take the vase with him… He forgot.

That night, around two a.m. I awoke to a shiver that covered my body and a loud ringing in my ear. That’s when I knew he was dead. That morning on October 19th, I stayed in bed as long as I could knowing that as soon as I stepped foot out my door, I would see my Dad’s face covered in tears, and he would tell me to sit and talk for a bit. I couldn’t wait any longer; I had to pee. So, I open my door and…

No one was home. I knew then too but my mind wanted to deny it. Even when both of my parents came home.

I had one last therapy session before my insurance was up. I felt guilty as to what I told my therapist; I told her of how I felt so relieved now that he was gone. How the stress and worry disappeared. She told me that people reacted to death differently and that it is normal to feel how I felt.

November. Sometimes, when I was alone; I would feel the need to hold something tightly to my chest. Even when I did; it didn’t help. I think that was the last time I left a voicemail for my ex best friend; at some point, in that month; I was angry and let her voicemail have it.

January. I was told that my Grandpa’s dying wish was for us to take my Brother to Disney World. I wasn’t really excited about this trip. But I kept wondering why he wanted us there; it had to be more than just Disney World. I am not a fan of a change in scenery. I soon realized that I was scared of the change.

That trip made me realized that growing wasn’t the cause of my Grandpa death. It wasn’t me getting a job or my license that started this chain reaction of events. My Grandpa would have still died this year even if my friend group didn’t end. That’s when I realized that I always stopped myself from growing; thinking I could outrun time but in reality; this is the way to grow. Rather time or myself; the clock is always ticking.

Before I realized it, a year had passed.

A year since the party.

March 12th.

Happy Birthday.

2 months before walking down the aisle

2 years after saying “yes I will marry you”

12 years after saying “yes, I’ll be your girlfriend”

I said “We can’t get married”

I loved you more than I loved myself
I thought that you loved me that way too
I grieved hard the next year believing you didn’t love me
I realized you loved me the way you knew how.
You loved how I treated you, how I made you feel, how I helped you grow.
I thought that was love.

2 weeks spent packing up the apartment we lived in together

2 hours spent moving boxes with my best friend and dad

2 eyes I had never seen before while you watched as I left.

I reflected and admitted that I didn’t know who I was;
tried new things and spent time with new friends,
started up old things and spent time with old friends.
I spent time by myself, with my old self and new, learning who I was.

3 weeks after moving out you crossed a set boundary

3 times I had to practice staying strong and upholding it

3 months you didn’t pay rent on lease you chose to keep and refuse to take my name off

I grieved, I cried.
I felt stupid and ashamed
I felt taken advantage of and small
You didn’t get what you wanted. I didn’t give in.

4 months into 29 years of life

4 months into a new relationship

12 months after saying “we can’t get married”

I love myself more than anything else
I am loved the way I deserve to be loved
I’ve grieved that I have accepted less. I’ve learned that all of me is loveable.
I’ve grieved that I learned that it was okay to accept less.

2 times a month I see a therapist; I’m learning to trust myself

2 months from now I will have lived on my own in a new city for a year.

12 years from now I don’t know where I’ll be but I will forever be grateful for the things I learned along the way.

I said “we can’t get married” and I changed my world.

We first saw her picture in a book,
In the days before everything was online.
She was a face among many
On one of a hundred plus pages in a kid’s catalog.
Not a book for kids to enjoy,
Filled with enticing toys and games.
But a catalog of kids,
Children that needed a home,
And we casually leafed through it like a store’s advertisement.
I don’t recall why we stopped on her picture,
But we did and made plans to meet her.
We felt the stares when we arrived at her foster home.
We were the minority in her neighborhood.
Her foster home was busy
With children running throughout,
Seemingly too many for the house to contain without bursting.
We planned to take her away for the day,
And she willingly joined a family of strangers
For her first trip to the grand museum on the city’s lakeshore.
I doubt she appreciated many of the exhibits,
But she loved the chicken nuggets after
As she fell asleep after her big outing.
We brought her back to her foster home,
And we agreed to discuss a second visit
To determine if she was a good fit for our family.
At the time, it seemed a practical plan.
Looking back, knowing what we know now,
It seems ludicrous that there was ever any doubt.
We said our good-byes and headed out,
But the noise made us look back.
We saw her inside the house,
Pounding on the door and crying.
She was almost two
And didn’t yet speak,
But she sure could scream.
And scream she did,
At us … for us … to take her with us.
There was nothing we could do
Except continue home
And call the DCFS office.
The next visit was quickly planned.
It would be our last.
We would bring her with us
To her new forever home.
The next time she left was when
She went off to college,
A vulnerable teen.
No longer the child without hair
Who walked with a limp and didn’t speak,
But still vulnerable.
She would return to us as a strong adult,
A beautiful dancer and learned scholar.
But most importantly to us,
She returned home as our daughter
Whom we love dearly.

Dear Daisy,

I anticipate your stems sprouting from the ground every spring, and I can feel you again. When summer approaches, your petals will showcase their beauty in the sunlight. I will close my eyes and take a deep breath, and for a moment, you are here in my arms. I imagine your bright blue eyes mirroring mine. Your smile is the brightest star in the sky. Your laugh roars, filling the earth with glee as you play with the other neighbor kids in nature. It is easy to get lost in the daydream.

Before you, I was giving my body away to men who didn’t deserve it. Drowning underneath insecurities and self-loathing, allowing myself to be treated as a piece of property that could be used and abused by men. Convincing myself that I wasn’t worth love, I kept telling myself that this was how I wanted to feel: worthless and nothing.

My period did not come. I kept telling myself, no, it isn’t possible. I was in denial. Adults have a superpower of lying to themselves, so incredibly powerful that they believe it until they can no longer outrun it. The truth will always rear its head, and it’s heartbreaking.

That morning in June, I awoke with intense cramps. I convinced my twenty-six-year-old self that my period was coming… three months late. Treating it as a typical day, I went to work. As I was Chatting with my coworkers, one of them being your father, about planning a fun night out, I felt a cramp, and a gush of blood erupted flowing outside of me. I ran to the third stall in the bathroom, and I saw it. I could no longer deny what was happening. I was losing you, Daisy.

Turning back into a childhood state of mind, I called my mother, and she rushed me to the hospital. Blood was seeping me through like a waterfall. When they came to tell me I was losing you, my heart tore in such a way that I am still unable to put into direct words. I hadn’t even developed the courage to tell your father you were coming; now I would have to say to him you were gone just as quickly as I accepted you were alive.

He was kind enough, but wasn’t the emotional support I needed then. He didn’t understand why I changed and didn’t want to be a “coworker with benefits anymore.” He got upset with me when I wouldn’t fulfill his desires, even though the doctors told me it wasn’t safe for me to do until I stopped bleeding. I did not want to be an object of his desire anymore.

I bled from June to August. Part of me didn’t want to stop bleeding because that would mean you were truly gone. I wanted even those parts of you to stay. The day the blood stopped, I put my hand on my empty womb and wept. It was two days past my twenty-seventh birthday.

I had spent most of my life avoiding any feelings of vulnerability. Losing you was the first time I felt every emotion in my body: sadness, anger, regret, and eventually relief. The truth is, Daisy, I wasn’t ready for you, and I will never know if that could’ve changed in time for your arrival. Granting myself to succumb to my emotions took me from a shell, and I embraced the complete existence of myself as a person and a woman.

After hours of self-reflection, I realized I was not stuck with anyone. Cutting the ties, I focused on building myself as a strong and confident woman. I promised myself never to give my body away until I could say to myself, “I love you.” Somehow, I got there. I felt the wind hit my face, and you said, “You got this, Mommy.”

Experiencing a miscarriage has given me unwavering strength to tackle obstacles that dare come my way. I am intelligent, I am kind, I am important. I am grateful for every ounce of pain and emptiness I felt in my body. Never again will I throw my feelings into a drawer and pretend they aren’t there. I can articulate when I am hurting and ask for support from people around me. The experience made me a whole person, not the robot society deems the most acceptable. My strengths and weaknesses make me whole, just the way I am. And Daisy, that is the most freeing feeling anyone can be. Through you, I discovered how to love myself.

You are the world, Daisy. I never gave you a name. I planted the prettiest seed to remember you, and will continue to bloom for you and me.

I Love You Always,

Your Mom

Today at work, I surprised a fellow associate when I told him that I had been born with cerebral palsy, which had affected my left side since I was a child. He had a surprised look on his face since he could not detect that I had anything wrong, much less a disability. I am a fire safety officer with the security department ata New York City hospital, and my job requires that I be ready to rumble and jump into action at a moment’s notice. But had you seen me when I was 4 years old, you probably would not have thought that I would go that route. In those days, in the middle 60s, my mother had her hands full taking me to the hospital every 3 months to see the doctors at the prestigious Hospital for Joint Diseases on 124th Street in East Harlem. One of the first things we’d do is go over to see Jimmy the cop. Jimmy was a security officer in the hospital, and he always made me feel like a little giant whenever my mom brought me to see him. Then it was on to the doctors where we’d do the same exercises over and over again to see if I needed any special tools to button my shirt or tie my shoe.
As a result of my condition, I walked with a limp, and I also dragged my left foot behind me. When I was three and a half years old, I was fitted with a metal brace on my leg to alleviate this condition.The brace was attached to the ugliest looking Brown looking brown orthopedic shoe you ever laid eyes on. I was always pleading with my mom to let me wear sneakers like the other kids, but she would just console me that one day soon she’d buy me a pair. Along with this special challenge was the added pressure of being a small kid. But, as I was soon to learn, my challenges did not define the size of my heart and the scope of my mind. Starting in 1967, I was part of the national United Cerebral Palsy telethon held at the Ed Sullivan theater in New York City. I remember the special party events we would attend in those days before and after the late autumn telethon. The Christmas parties were a kid’s dream. Even though it was a lifetime ago, I can still remember my name being called, and walking with my mom down the center aisle to meet Ed Sullivan, who shook my little hand. But nothing could top the candy at these parties. Yep, candy was life for a 4-year-old kid. Everything was larger than life when seen through the eyes of a four-year-old. I still walk by and the glance through the windows of the glass door of the old Ed Sullivan theater on West 54th Street which years later became the setting for the David Letterman show in the early eighties. I remember meeting Edie Gorme and her recently deceased husband Steve Lawrence. Every year they supported the telethon and all the kids. Our moment was when they paraded us on the stage and one of the hostesses would sing her song every year.Look at us we’re walking, look at us we’re talking. I can still hear that voice in my head. But it was in 1968 when something happened that made me see things differently. That summer, my sister and cousin were entered into the Little Miss America Pageant at the Palisades Amusement Park, and my mom put me in a several weeks long sleepover camp for kids with CP. I remember arriving at the camp and seeing all these kids who had it much worse than I did. Many in wheelchairs, and some severely disabled. But they smiled and laughed, and did the best they could in the face of their challenges. The counselors were so friendly, and my first crush was a 20 something year old blonde who I thought had taken a special liking to me. Well, at least that’s what I tell myself nowadays. Then, one day it happened. We were at the pool when she shattered the illusion.She proceeded to unstrap her left leg and hop into the pool. My little four-year-old mind was mortified. But she could really get around in that pool though, I’ll tell you that.
As I became familiar with all the kids, I tried my best to help when I was able. Helping them in their chairs, or making life easy whenever I could.
One fine summer day, we were sitting in the group playing our kazoos. There we were, just drooling along to Peter Paul and Mary’s only number one hit song, “Leaving on a Jet Plane”,
when I spied one of the kids 50 ft away on an embankment, tossing rocks at a tree. I left the group, and limped over to where he was in his wheelchair. As I got closer, I could see that he was throwing stones at a hornets nest. I tried drawing attention to us as to what was going on, but it was too late. As I approached his wheelchair, he let loose with a stone, and struck the nest. Faster than you could say lickety split, we were surrounded by hornets who zeroed in on us, stinging to their hearts content. I struggled with his wheelchair trying to roll it down the grassy hill, but try as I might, I was no match for the grassy hill or the hornets. Help arrived, and we were hurriedly rescued by a couple of counselors and taken to the nurse to be patched up with calamine lotion. But the events of that day stood with me for the rest of my life, because it taught me that with great power comes great responsibility. Yeah, I know it sounds cheesy, but I have always tried to live up to that awareness.The next year, I had my leg operation, and the brace came off. I finally got those sneakers. They were skippy’s, but wore them proudly. All these years later, I became a hospital security officer where I continue to make a difference. I especially like to go up to the young kids that are wheelchair bound or get around with the aid of a walker and give them words of encouragement. I’m no Jimmy the cop, but if you need help escaping a hornets nest, I’m your man.

Battle-Tested
Fact: Trigeminal Neuralgia is a nerve condition that affects the face. The pain is so severe the person sinetinrs cannot eat or drink.(Cited from John Hopkins Medicine)

Why you always frowning?

That’s the question I get when I
am out in public spaces
The appearance of disdain
Does not match your assumption in form of a question
So let Me explain my position

I met TN in 2015
AKA Trigeminal Neuralgia but will preferred to be called the name that is well-known to us TN Warriors the Suicide Disease
She leaves an aura of a profound phenomenon so dreadful
As a result she reeks havoc in your life
Dims your light, kills your strength, and leads to a path of toxic thoughts that is so dark

I had a good face card
Always smiling that drew others to my light
Now these days the frown you see upon my face
You would assume this my natural resting state
But inside I am going through a turblent cycle of zaps
So stong as lightening bolts
Sending waves of painful shocks
That it makes you consider for a second
Is really worth living

Toxic thoughts takes center stage when the pain goes on and on
Your spirit wants give up in dispair
But your soul feeds you strength and willpower to fight your most darkest thoughts
Before experiencing this strange unique phonemional I was proud of my smile
But after being on this journey
I became proud of my strength

I didn’t choose this experience it chose Me
God saw that I was best fit for this war
I wear the crown that is heavy, however I have blossomed into this beautiful courageous warrior

So how is this experience profound?

I stand as a bold surrivor
Who has talked, walked, cried, released in constant sharps shooting pain that is never ending
While still living my life out loud and still complete the daily responsibilities that I am tasked with
I still show up with my soul smiling
I proudly say to TN: You still didn’t win.

For years my life was a contradiction.
Preaching the good book but living for addiction.
I sold my mind, my soul and myself short.
My sins building around me, an impenetrable fort.
An unholy war raging in my life every day.
If I met the Good Lord, what would I even say?
Nothing but silence, no matter how hard I tried to shout.
Water pouring in, no words getting out.
Trying to scream, my face painted with despair.
Holding my head above water, gasping for air.
Fighting to breathe, body consumed by pain.
Endlessly treading water in the middle of a hurricane.
Growing tired, my mind begged me not to stop.
But my body didn’t care, it had been through a lot.
Slowly slipping beneath a crashing wave.
Giving up all hope of being saved.
I swallowed the liquid, my lungs on fire.
My entire existence easing into desire.
The water encased me and pressed into my bones.
My world got darker. I was all alone.
I quit fighting and closed my eyes.
I had made my peace, I was ready to die.
But his hand reached for me, and pulled me back to the surface.
A voice cried out, you haven’t fulfilled your purpose.

A Letter to the Girl I Used to Be, to Say Goodbye

Dear Girl,

When I look back on who I used to be, there are so many feelings that come to the surface. While the girl you are now doesn’t hold a candle to the woman I am today, you were still a badass and deserve to be celebrated and recognized for all that you endured. You faced each day with a rigor and enthusiasm that has been somewhat subdued, but is still apparent in some of my actions. Let’s break down your life up until now, and look at both how far you have come, and how far you still have to go.

Everything you know, or think you know, is a byproduct of someone else’s experiences. Yes, you have had a few adventures, in Florida, Marine Corps boot camp, and working in the “real world.” But you have yet to be in the trenches, and have yet to develop the grit it takes to fully form into an adult. You are so free and have your entire life ahead of you, do all the things you can now before your marriage and your son (not necessarily in that order), tie you down. Do not get my wrong, having your son is the best thing that could have happened to you, but your strength will act, as per usual, as a double-edged sword. It will hold you up and allow you to persevere, but will cut you down at the same time.

You will pour everything you have into your family and first marriage, and get very little in return from your husband. He will incorrectly assume that you have everything handled, which you will, but you will need love and support that will not be forthcoming. Renee, you deserve better.

Right now you have surrounded yourself with a tribe of people who feel like your second family. Embrace them, love them, relish every moment and every experience you have with them. Go to every bonfire, stay up all night talking, and never ever take them for granted. While you will have close relationships and intimate friendships in the future, it will never be like it is now. Some of these people will be in your life forever, but the camaraderie and freedom you share with them cannot be recreated. You are lucky, count your blessings and love on them as much as possible.

The last thing I need to emphasize is to spend every chance you get with Dad. Answer the phone every time he calls, when he asks you to dinner, go happily, and tell him every chance you get that he is the best dad and means the world to you, and that you love him. The same goes with Mom. They will leave your life before you are ready and they made you.

Renee, you are beautiful, you are worthy of love, and your life turns out to be pretty great. You have a loving husband who is willing to work through the hard times, and three miraculous, hilarious, solid humans who you will be charged with guiding, teaching, and loving with all of your heart and soul. Let them, and their love, change you, do not fight it.

I have to say goodbye to you, because even though you are working on qualities now which will serve me well in the future, the person you are now doesn’t really exist any longer. At least not in the same way you did, back in the day. I also want to thank you for everything you have gotten right, but more importantly for all of the things you have gotten wrong. Those were important lessons and your pain becomes worth it in the long run, trust.

Take care of your heart Renee, it is one of your best qualities and people will break it every chance they get. What those people won’t get to see, is your ability to rebuild from the ashes of heartbreak, and the way you will love better, stronger, and more fiercely than before.

I’ll see you in my memories and sometimes my dreams. I offer you peace, kindness, love, strength and respect.

Yours truly,

Fully formed adult Renee

Rose, rose

Petals wilted
Colors faded
Stem flaccid
Retrograded
Burnt edges
Roots grounded
To the Waters
To the Mountains
Growing alone
Never seen
Time slows
In between
Two worlds
On my own
In the Earth
Beneath the stone

A rose as sweet as it smells, soft as it feels has thorns like every other rose
With every day the petals fade, to remind us of how life grows

Rose, rose is about overcoming the obstacles & tribulations life bestows upon us
Indigenous women must adapt to our environments
By remaining connected to who we are & where we come from
To stay strong & to hold on
To keep going & to keep growing
To succeed in the worlds, we live in

By Tweesna Rose
Mills

(Align poem in the center of the page to be displayed in a image of an arrow)

For what it’s worth
The weight of the soul is measured in grams
The sale of my soul was measured in grams
For what it’s worth
I arrived here broken and dying
The parts of me so long gone
Alone, scared, hopeless
For what it’s worth
You never need feel this way again they told me
For what it’s worth
Hope is found here
God’s grace is found here
For what it’s worth
Miracles abound
Moment by moment, day by day, year by year
For what it’s worth
Joy in the ordinary
Change in the pain
Glorious journey
For what it’s worth
More than could be fathomed
More than could ever be spoken
More than I ever deserved
Indeed that is what it’s worth

I always knew I was different, yet the ability to articulate exactly what I felt eluded me for most of my life, especially the early years. I grew up in the 80’s, pre internet, so I didn’t know there were other people in the world like me. When the internet came about, I learned that I was a crossdresser. Though that didn’t exactly fit me, it was the closest thing I had to an identity.

As a teenager I would go through a form of conversion therapy which resulted in burying my feminine side and trying to brace hyper masculinity. It was nothing more than a mask that I would wear for the sake of others. For if I could fool them, one day, I could even fool myself. I thought I was rather good at it, yet there were many days and nights she would be just below the surface, screaming to be let out. Every time I would silence her and go about life. The smile on my face was a poor attempt at hiding the sadness in my eyes.

Decades would go by and with each passing year I marveled that I was somehow still alive. I could never picture a future where I existed, where I had happiness, genuine happiness that persisted in my day-to-day life. I would become depressed over time which led me to one of the most life altering choices I would ever make. Instead of going through the motions and simply existing every day I sought help from a therapist, not just any therapist, but one that also specialized in gender identities, transgender people.

I would finally have answers to my questions. I finally had the language to define who I was. I wasn’t a boy; I wasn’t a man. I am a woman, a trans woman. What did that mean for me? How can I do this at the age of 41, I asked myself. With my therapist’s guidance I was able to answer these questions, navigate this transition and all the added pressures it would bring on someone that has a family, job, and lives in the bible belt.

It wasn’t easy by any means. Depression would set in at the knowledge of being different than the rest of the world. Yet I would plug away. I think my most defining moment early in my transition was the loss of a dear friend who was also a trans woman. The pressure got to her, and she took her own life. And I was scared, terrified, because only weeks earlier that was very nearly me.

My employer had exclusions on gender affirming surgery in the company Healthcare plan, so I was at a loss of how to pay for these surgeries. So, I would keep asking my employer to remove said exclusions. Each year the answer was no. Each year I would send a formal request to corporate and each year I would get a different reason why they wouldn’t remove the exclusions. After 4 years of this I reached out to an attorney for assistance and after a year of back and forth, my employer at the urging of the EEOC removed the exclusions on gender affirming surgery.

I had my first surgery in November of 2023, a breast augmentation or as the community calls it, top surgery. And my bottom surgery was in March of 2024. You’ll hear people say that gender affirming care is lifesaving. And that’s really a hard concept to grasp unless it’s something you’ve experienced first-hand. I even didn’t fully grasp how life altering it would be until my first surgery. Yes, I had gender dysphoria regarding my body. Yes, there were times I hated my body so much I wanted to hurt myself. Times spent in the shower, in the dark, just crying.

And then you have corrective surgery. To many, it’s a small thing. A small step. But when your body is foreign to you, when your body has betrayed you and you wake up from that first surgery and see the results of it? I cannot fully describe the amount of joy I felt. Finally, my body was starting to look like it should have all these years. Finally, I felt at home in my body. I started to stand up straighter. The was no longer this unseen weight on my shoulders. Finally,, I was me! I was happy. I am happy! My body was finally mine, not some impostors. More importantly, when I try to imagine what the future looks like, I can see a world where I exist in it. Transitioning, and gender affirming surgeries, gave me another chance at life. I’m both lucky and grateful to have been able to see the world from two sets of eyes.

My former self was fueled by mental illness and trauma. I was a prisoner inside my own mind. I felt burdened and weighed down with life, that life itself was torture. I was always inconvenienced, and everything triggered me. I was wrapped so tight that when I unraveled I would fall completely apart and I’m frantically would gather them all back up. My anger consumed so much of me that everyone had to walk on eggshells in my presence. I was so lost I couldn’t comprehend my left from my right most days. I was a total mess. A lost cause, a mistake and everything else that replayed in my mind that someone else had told me about myself. I couldn’t live with myself, yet I expected others to come make me whole, to protect me and provide for me, to show me I was worth something and that I mattered! Time after time, I bleed all over them until they had to abandon me to save themselves. I struggled daily trying to convince myself this would all be worth it one day. Even though all the fighting to stay alive was not paying off, it only kept getting harder. I kept fighting.
June 12th of 2022 I received the call that my Mother’s journey had come to an end. Standing outside my mother’s apartment knowing her physical body was lifeless on the other side of that wall and now her story was fully written was bittersweet. Her book had closed, yet for me it was a chapter ending.
I knew at that moment I had no choice but to live life differently than her, again. My mother and I shared a mental illness diagnosis that was not easy to manage or live with. Her passing was a heartbreaking loss yet also a breath of fresh air. I knew she finally had some peace and rest after all those years of searching for it.
Her passing fueled a new fire inside of me. I grew a desire to taste happiness. I wanted to know what joy felt like. I needed to feel comfort and gain stability. I finally had the chance to truly heal and this chapter of my life was over. The ending of my mother’s story gave me a new beginning. I allowed myself to fully unravel and fall apart. I took a long hard look at the mess I was in. I knew this is the time I would finally clear out the junk and could organize what parts of me were salvageable. I began piecing myself back together with the pieces that made me, me. From there, I began to build a masterpiece from my brokenness. I grasped hold of patience, which allowed me to no longer be inconvenienced.I stopped being angry at life and that allowed me to grow softer and embrace the beauty I hadn’t seen before. I got to know, understand and grow intimate with the feelings that had been neglected underneath that thick layer of anger. I began to have peace and love within myself. My mind became my sound. I learned to be still and let the universe be my compass. Piece by piece I am still coming together and I fully am enjoying this part of my journey.
I get to live out the beauty in exchange for my mother’s ashes. To honor that duality, I choose to live life today, tomorrow and all the rest of my days since my Mother couldn’t. For 35 years I struggled with my own mental health; My mothers struggle was an additional 24 years harder. I spent my whole life making sure I did everything opposite of her, so much so, I became all the good I am today because of Her!!!

Thank you mom for paving the path so I could find my way out of the darkness and be the light for so many others. I seen you, I heard you, I understood you and I still love you today!

Your daughter,
Noble Storm Famous Warrior

Everything is happening at once yet nothing is happening at all the overwhelm feels like I’m drowning but I still stand tall regardless of the pain that I feel except someone once told me only love was actually real but why do I feel the anger and the sadness so deeply it feels like a part of me and inhibits me to see clearly why is the love i feel attachment why do my words not match my actions why do I confuse suffering for being noble why do I lack trust but continue to be hopeful for something that doesn’t exist because I’ve created someone even I can’t be safe with only to come to the realization that I’m the one who made this happen the exact way that it did to save myself in the end to learn that love is your greatest weapon to use or else it’s abuse to know it is to be it I became it so I could defeat it, just incase you needed a reason.

-Your Will to Live

Dear Unsealers,

I worked as a hostess at the same restaurant for 13 years, which is extremely rare in the service industry. My mind, body, and soul were exhausted at the end of each week. I grew to hate my job. I had friends who worked at other restaurants; they were friendly and went out with their coworkers. But, all of my coworkers were married or had significant others, so they did not want to go out and party like me, a single woman. And most of the small team was lazy and difficult to work with; they left me to pick up their slack and perform menial tasks like clearing off tables and running dirty dishes to the kitchen.

To make things worse, I worked this job as a college graduate with a journalism degree. I was embarrassed that I could not find a job in my chosen field. In some ways, I hated myself for settling into a job that would go nowhere as much as I hated the job itself.

Then, the COVID-19 pandemic hit. Due to both local and national lockdowns, the restaurant closed temporarily, so I lost my hostess job. I did not know it at the time, but it was one of the best things that could happen to me.

I already worked a part-time remote job as a proofreader. The freedom of working from home appealed to me greatly. So, I sent out resumes and applied for hundreds of jobs. I finally was hired as a copy editor for a company that produced online newspapers. I was ecstatic that I had found a career job in my chosen profession. My self-esteem grew and I no longer hated working.

In addition to finding a new job, I started several new hobbies during the COVID lockdown. I began to paint with watercolors and acrylics. I worked on cross-stitch and embroidery kits. And I had more time to write in my journal and describe my innermost feelings, dreams, and desires.

Many people became ill with COVID or stressed due to the lack of social activities and mental stimulation during lockdown. But, I excelled at my new job and pastimes. I am a loner by nature, so it was not unusual for me to go days or weeks without seeing friends or family members. I thrived during the government-sanctioned quarantine and got to know myself better.

I enjoyed the time alone, especially after spending so many years working in a restaurant, where I had to deal with impatient and aggressive customers. I learned that you have to work to make a living, but it is possible to have a career that is fulfilling and lets you use your skills and talents.

My advice to my younger self would be to keep striving to achieve my goals. I know myself best, and I knew that I was capable of and deserved a job that would make me happy in addition to paying the bills. Because I lost one job during the pandemic, I was able to accept another that I felt comfortable in and was great at.

October 17th 2006…
Gave up on the old life-it just could not exist.

I was using, drinking, abusing-Trying self to die
But though I was overblown-was some thinking in mind.
At the end of the night-substance and alcohol gone
Came this thinking of life stinking-maybe I was wrong.

Wait a minute here-I should be crumped,
These gasoline fumes just may be dumb.
Tomorrow, my only daughter…turns five-
And I’m not wanting to be alive?

How could one steal a life to others real?
When this world came to life-was it a flip deal?
Had not my best friend-escaped again,
To the hospital room from my hole-sunk tomb?
Emergency fair-I’ll wait…Have not my best friend there.

Then like God spoke:
Put the gas can down-may new life, have wrote…
So, I went next days’ recovery-
Burned out and bent; but God had reality!
…And this could all be good?
Wherefore means the little engine that could?

Therefore I obeyed that very next day,
And glory halleluiah-God had better/No, the best Way!!!
And no-have not had there-street life goodbye
Along with witchcraft involved in drugs…
I was simply chasing the wrong place/wrong love.
God, I thought You hated me-so I hated You too,
I for all along had been deceived-I’ll not type what needs You.
But thank You later for taking me, to the alter of grace…
God, once again-You were on time, because You’re never late!!!

8:41PM
4/15/2024
Monday

That moment I chose myself & my path of destiny
The path that was made for me
Was the happiest moment of my life

I no longer carried the heaviness of oppression & my generational strife
I no longer had to pretend I enjoyed being an ordinary housewife

I ran towards my truth quicker than the wind could blow

I could finally smile and exhale my ancestral whoas

I chose to be the person only a seer could see
I chose to stand tall & SING

I AM no longer a blackbird, but a phoenix of almighty power
I watched the clocks speed up by the hour

As I flew into the unknown above their racist towers
With a new perspective of self-love & dignity

As I sat there resting, finally able to drink my tea
And basque in the glory of who I could BE

Embodying the path that was made for me

Celebrating that I chose,
My heavenly destiny

Distant:

While it seemed as if the world was falling apart, In 2020, the deepest parts of myself were drastically coming together.

Strikingly, my spiritual reawakening shifted the entire trajectory of my perspective, including everything else that slowly led to this rare occurrence.

All within that same year, I had an epiphany that came to pass nearly a year later… When a close friend of mine had just moved to Texas, somehow I intuitively felt that I was soon going to as well. Although, I had never been there or even thought about it prior.

To some degree, it was beautiful to share this news with close relatives about all that I was experiencing spiritually and planning to do.

That still came with some disheartening moments and conversations. No one else fully understood or related to me and I had to accept that they may never will.

Instant:

In 2021, The opportunity finally presented itself. I was asked if I would like to move to Texas and take the leap of fate as my best friend’s roommate… and I did!

With the expectation to do Real Estate, I had no clue what would unfold there. But, I moved from Michigan with only $1k saved for my road trip and received angel numbers reassuring me I would be assisted with everything else I needed. The divine used strangers, signs, and miracles from every angle.

I had never driven a U-Haul before then. Ironically, there was a shortage going on at the time. I had to drive a 20″ truck, which was very intimidating!!! While prepping for the move there, my best friend offered to fly in to drive with me towards my new destination.

It was one of the BEST things I could have EVER done. It has created literal direction and purpose (for each area of my life).

I was able to dive deeper into my healing journey. All while closely reevaluating my life and where I truly desired to, which seemed to have been a challenging journey before and throughout arriving there.

Comfort:

After living in Texas for almost two years, I am forever grateful for all of my learning experiences there. It felt like some sacred spiritual retreat for both of us to be present and within our freedom. I loved it! It has helped shape me while experiencing the purest joy, even during occasional harsh storms of other emotions.

I’ve had to make peace with the sacrifices I have made throughout this path… Letting go of old friends, distancing from toxic family members, being willing to be somewhat isolated for deeper introspection, and going to lengths without a set income, to name a few.

Throughout my life, I haven’t felt as connected to seeing anything regarding purpose within jobs, schooling, and other things.

However, I undeniably committed to follow through. It’s been nothing short of a blessing to receive the exchange of what’s on the other side of it… Unlimited possibility.

Many things in life come at the cost of facing many truths, changes and growing while in some uncomfortable moments.

Although I am unchanged at the core, I’ve grown so much as a being! This happens to be a lifelong journey I am willing to go the distance to explore.

I DON’T HAVE PTSD
[in Southernspeak]

When I wake up in the mornin’
most any day
everything isn’t broken
lying about in ashen heaps, the smell
his buddies dead or dyin’
one smokin’ wheel of the sideways chopper still turnin’.

I can have
an already-always appreciation
of a new day. Most any mornin’
rain, or sun peering at me
there’s blue sky in between the clouds
and the coffee is good.

I don’t have to clean up empties
or wipe up dog poo cause I didn’t let it out
in time
that time of not bein’ to forget, all encompassing.

My good friend has it tho
and it never fully leaves him
the self recrimination either
whar forgiveness ain’t
nor the compassion jus’ be missin’
he fight this time an’ next for the clear blue.

My friend has seen mor’ o’ the dyin’
than I will ever
even after a career of hospital intensive care work
where my role in it were to stop tha’ dying.
His was to cause it, that ther’ black
when we look each other in tha’ eye, we know.

Coffee.
Window watching.
Staring.
Seeing.
Always coffee first.
Sunshine. I see sunshine.
My eyes and brain and spirit
are very happy.
I go to the nearest chair
on my quasi-porch
and slowly absorb the coffee.
Ah hah,
I am ready:
messy red sneakers
and happy socks,
whooshy pants,
and a bright pink tank top.
I’m going to my version of heaven,
an island
still underdeveloped enough
to be magical.
I know it won’t be long
before it’s buried under the selfishness
of people,
so I put in all the time I can get.

I drive the bridge at illegal speeds
and sincerely hope
the State Patrol is nowhere
near me.
I notice other cars
and wonder if the passengers
will run over my spirit
by getting off at my island.

Well far out,
they keep going
and I’m the only car heading to the gates.
Used to be a state park. Now Real estate.
Good Real estate.
Still gated.
Good real estate.
Getting pricier.
Good real estate.
I have a sticker on my windshield,
so the gates part for me,
like I’m Moses at the Red Sea.
I drive
carefully;
State Patrol is everywhere
on this side of the gate.
They even have a building and parking spaces
near my first stop, the ladies’ bathroom.
Door slam #1.
Now, more able to drive carefully,
very carefully. SP everywhere.
Left turn into the historic district.
Yay, parking space.
Door slam #2.
Keys attached to the medallion around my neck.
Yay, I’m free.

I walk through the commercial area,
with the signs and stores
and quick cafes and outdoor
seating and price signs
everywhere.
Rabbits, squirrels, and I.
No people yet. (I’m not people.
I’m a leaf.
I’m a squirrel.
I’m the air.
Spanish Moss.)
No people. Yaaaay.)
I walk.
Small breezes pat my face,
fluff up my hair,
blow out my whooshy pants.
I shuffle along.
No people. Too early.
I walk.
I hear me breathe.
I walk.

I smile.
I watch the waves
dance in and out
and hear them bark at me,
welcoming me
as long as I don’t talk back.
I don’t. They carry on.
I hear seagulls.
I walk.
I see trees.
They see me.
Oh no, a human coming at me
from the opposite direction.
Yay. A non-chatty one.
A brief-waver. A smiler.
A me-form.
And we pass.
I walk.
I sniff.
I walk,
I stare and smile. I walk
I walk until I realize
I’m sweating
and thirsty
and sweating
smiling.
I find the water.
Walk. Walk.
Smile. Sniff.
Part human, part dog.
A friendly labradoodle thinks we’re family.
Owner is not pleased.
I smile and move on.
Dog wants to continue talking
so I wave. Owner waves.
Dog smiles. Dog gets it.

I finish my travels
as the hotel-stayers
and visitors
and locals
decide it’s time for breakfast
and begin to make too much noise,
so I find Luther, (the car)
and put on The Grateful Dead,
open the sunroof and
say goodbye to the family
and let them know
that, like Arnold Schwarzenegger,
I’ll be back,
whether they like it or not.
Like family.

Dog and I say so.

For a long time I have always felt silenced. I go to speak and no words come out. So I hold it in. I have held my tongue for many reasons. One of which comes from childhood where I was told ‘do not speak when grown folks are talking’ or ‘don’t speak when I speak’. And they are always speaking. Another reason for why I have held my tongue is because of my speech impediment. I say my R’s like W’s so whenever I speak people find it comedic and disregard the words that I am actually trying to say. So I hold it in. I don’t speak and I disassociate. But that was my childhood. I am grown now and I can’t keep being quiet. I can’t keep getting walked over and I can’t keep tolerating disrespect. I believe that I try to be gracious to people and even when they are wrong I try not to judge too harshly. I give grace, but it is not received. I get evicted, lose my car, move back in with my parents and it is all his fault. Apparently. Even though everyone in the family has suffered a loss, has lived through failure. However, the person that I love must be perfect and never, ever fall. The person that I love has been judged and I stay silent. The person that I love has been treated and talked about unfairly, but I have no words. If I don’t know how to speak up for myself, how can I speak up for others? The moment that changed my life for the better is when I was punished for loving someone. I had to suffer and go without because he is a little rough, he curses and he’s not perfect. Getting punished for something you cannot control is something that I couldn’t hold it in. The words and emotions flowed out of me. The words stung and I knew it, so I just pressed it in deeper. I wanted to speak on all of the times that I didn’t speak for myself. I wanted to remind them that I was always last on their list and how I was always overlooked. I am never invited out and never included, but the person that sticks beside me and that is with me every day is villainized. He is not perfect, but neither am I. Or you. Jesus said that he that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her. It seems like those with the most to say and the most to hide are the ones always casting the stone. So, I threw a stone when you made me sit outside in the rain when I was in college, but you let some random guy roomate with you. And I threw a stone on the time that I was stuck in the middle of nowhere and you refused to get up because you were in for the night. I am better now that I know that I don’t need to hold my tongue to be a part of a family. I am better since I let you have it. I am better since I stepped to you and made you realize no matter how much older you are than me, I will never tolerate disrespect from you. The moment you took the car away that you gave me because you didn’t like my boyfriend it changed me for the better. Ten days later, I got approved for a car with no money down. Punishing me for who I love will never work because God will show up, show out and bless me even better in the end.