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

I’m broken but who isn’t

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

To all the young quitters of the world,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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