This is the year.

The year I let moss grow over my feet.
The year I bathe in the clouds as they kiss the ground.
The year I stretch my fingertips to tickle sun beams.
The year I sleep in the cradle of stars as they whisper lullabies.
The year I let raindrops dance around my smile.
The year I paint over my scars with dandelion wishes.

This is the year:
The year I inhale peace and exhale you.

There is a quote that stood solid in my sight one time after looking up quotes and writing them in my notebook when I still lived with my mom. Mahatma Gandhi is the author of the quote: “My life is my message.” I was staring at it for a while as if I needed these words engraved in my memory and they were engraved forever in my mind & soul.

Since I am the one who lived it, I would tell people my story growing up, which I saw as normal. I remember when I told my son’s grandma about my past to what I thought was normal and she stood up & shook her head because she couldn’t understand it. I told her it was fine because I was here with my head held high and able to tell my story.

I was never ashamed of the things that took place or the people in my story because I understood it was all part of my journey. I can look at the bird’s-eye point of view and always try to put myself in the other person’s shoes to understand why that action or reaction took place. Everyone has a story and sometimes we have to not judge the book by its cover and realize that there are chapters prior that we don’t know.

For example, when my dad took me from school without telling my mom about it, even though my mom had won full custody of me when I was a baby. My dad had done before and kept me away according to my mom. All this time I thought it was a vacation until last year or so. I remember telling my mom how I went from one person’s house to another and how fun that vacation was. Her response was, “Oh honey, that wasn’t a vacation. That was your dad keeping you from me. You were 5 years old, & he took you without telling me.”

My mom never once spoke ill of my father to me or in front of me. My dad on the phone said once that my mom was crazy. I told him then that means you say that I am crazy, dad because both of you created me and if she is crazy, then I am part crazy. He stayed quiet and retracted his statement.

With the years passing, I put myself in my dad’s shoes and understood why he did what he did. All he wanted was to keep me close and protect me because my sister, his first daughter, had passed at 15 in October 1989, which is also the same month that I was born.

When people ask me if I enjoy doing spooky things for Halloween or seeing a scary movie, my immediate response always is, “No, because life has been scary enough.” I know I have the God given gift of compassion and empathy to understand the person’s action & reaction. To put myself in the other person’s shoe and see them for who they are. To deliver the message of my life because it is my message. Just as your life is your message because it will inspire someone to give them hope of a deserved happy life.

I understand it is not about why is it happening to me but more of a what is this teaching me. I know God won’t put us in a situation that we cannot overcome.

I have overcome a few things that, without them, I wouldn’t be in the mindset that I am in. My miscarriage was my message to understand my dad’s actions a bit more. I have the power to do what I wished my dad had done & I am in charge of my story. I know that nothing worth having comes easy, but after all, I am worth it.

All these thoughts spinning me lies
Wringing me out and leaving me dry
Blinded by the blackened skies
Shadows and haunts creeping by
What- ifs and worries cloud my eyes

Eating me through from the inside out
Chewing me raw giving me doubt
Like termites in a log, gluttonous they flout.
Stewing in stench as rotting trout
Smothered in silence I can’t scream or shout

Hurricanes and stabbing rains
Try to tell myself it’s all in feign
These knotting pits drive me insane
Churning my stomach writhing in pain
Wish I could flush them down the drain

Driving safely down the street
Intrusive thoughts that can’t be beat
I should be dead, no reason to be
No right to cry or even to breathe.
Hit the gas, then swerve into the tree.

Is it real or make believe?

Drowning, twisting, squirming, tight
Tingling, torture, stinging, fight

Biting, choking, scorching, spite
Dead-end turns, endless plight
Waste of time, waste of might

It’ll be ok, I’ll be alright.

I wish I had seen; I wish I believed
truthfully
You have no power over me!

My childhood had exceptional ups and crummy downs. I also wasn’t the most well-mannered daughter. My mom always did the best that she could with what she had. Those are some of my best memories. Working 3 jobs and I was helping her with one. I could’ve done better, but I learned my lesson. I understand now that is how life is. One thing I also know now that I didn’t know then was that parents understand you. They know what they are talking about when they are having an important conversation with you, so make sure you listen. It’s for a reason and it doesn’t make sense at the moment. It makes little sense until later, when you least expect it.Ever since I can remember, we mainly lived in apartments and my mom was usually the on-site manager. It was always small communities, but it was home. I always enjoyed helping my mom and I would see my mom and how she was with the residents. At 16, she started having me help with a few tasks like answering calls, setting up showings, collecting rent and writing out the receipt. I hoped to be outside playing with my friends. Whenever my mom would ask me to help her, I would make faces. I was thinking my mom wouldn’t see. I just found out a few weeks ago that she knew all along. We can laugh about it now   It is something that I feel she was pushing on to me and was looking for other options to do after I finished school. I did one fast food job, which wasn’t for me. I had one retail job which also wasn’t for me. Since I had helped by mom, I had some experience in office work, so I got one job in property management. I was the leasing agent and who would’ve known that I would be so good at it? I stayed there for almost a little over 2 years.I moved and did retail pharmacy for 6 years; I did because I had to, not because I wanted to. The only bright side is I would see my coworkers. Property management was still a topic I would like to discuss. I’d offer advice to the customers when they’d mention something about the apartment they were living in. I quit my retail pharmacy job and didn’t know where I was going to next. It seems like no matter what I did, my heart was always with property management. I prayed and believed that if property management was truly my calling, an opportunity would present itself, considering my 10 years of experience.  I got hired by a temp agency telling them I wanted to try this again. Since it was a while, I preferred to go the temp route. I went to one position and I remember how excited I was to be there. That specific situation did not feel right, so I called the agency and they switched me right away. Speaking up instead of remaining silent was a moral decision, and I’m glad I made it. Because I respectfully advocated for myself, I accepted a temporary position with another company. I love to help and learn as much as I can, so I was excited to be a temp with this company. I have a tendency to ask what feels like a thousand questions. The people I would talk to were so helpful, understanding that I had limitations in my ability to help. I had to keep learning and continue to wait for an opportunity to show mainly myself that I can do it. The opportunity to prove myself showed up, and I showed out. It felt amazing to know I was on the right track. I got hired by the company. I worked for the company and gave it my all so much that my 1 year review was proof that I sure can do this and I succeeded. There was another opportunity that appeared and it was a company that I had worked for about 10 years ago. I love how life comes full circle. I didn’t have the experience back then that I did now.I ended up getting a job as an on-site manager. Once I was moving in, I called my mom. I told her thank you for showing me at the age that she did and for believing in me. I apologized for my behavior from when I was younger. It seems like my mom knew what she was talking about. She had seen something in me I didn’t and it took me time to believe that I can do it. I am so proud of myself for not giving up and believing in myself and being able to be a part of a community, just as I always have been. Home is where the heart is and for me, that’s being a part of a community. I am proud of myself for not giving up. It took sometime to believe in myself like my mom believed in me. I’d always remind myself that nothing worth having comes easy. If it was easy, then everyone would do it. That’s why it feels so great when you achieve it. Only you know how much you worked for that. No one sees your struggles behind closed doors and those are the toughest battles, but it’s ok you can do this because you deserve it.

Finding faith, Feeling high,
Figuring out Falling low,
Falling asleep Finding flow,
Having doubt (is this a haiku?) Making more room to grow.