An open letter to young women in unhealthy relationships.

Dear Young Woman  Lost,


 When  we older women try to tell you to walk away, to leave him alone, we know you won’t listen because we didn’t listen when they tried to tell us. More often than not when we are in love, we think we’re different, that we will prove the naysayers wrong. Consequently, we end up regretful and hurt. For some, it becomes a valuable lesson in personal growth. For others, it becomes the start of a vicious cycle of unhealthy, abusive relationships. Some become better women and others become broken. It is my hope that all of you reading this will be the ones who become better. And while you will have to navigate your own journey, let me leave you with some gems. 

1. If you feel alone, guilty, hurt, afraid, smothered, or any negative emotion a majority of the time, odds are you are in an emotionally ( and hopefully not physically) abusive relationship. It will not get better no matter what you do or don’t do.  Love certainly has its up and downs, but it shouldn’t have more downs than up and it shouldn’t frantically go up and down on a daily basis. So many people think that because he doesn’t hit you, it’s not abusive. Threats, constant cheating, intimidation, name calling, and isolation from people who love you are all forms of abuse. Hurt people hurt people… Don’t let him break your spirit!
2. If is not your responsibility to fix him or to make him happy. If he isn’t already a happy person, then once again, nothing you do will matter long term.  Don’t be guilted into staying because he had a difficult life, or because he has no family, or because of “all” he’s done for you. He’ll be alright, and if he isn’t, at least you will be. This also means you don’t allow him to be solely responsible for your happiness. That’s your job. Work on you instead of trying to fix him.
3.   Just because you have children together does not mean you have to stay together.  I know... you want it to work; you don’t want another baby daddy.  Here’s the reality. Happy mommy equals happy kid. They feel your energy, they know when you are hurting and they absorb it. Even worse, they learn what they see… that men are supposed to hurt women. You are your child’s first teacher, set an example. 

4.  Don’t compromise who you are under any circumstances. That means you don’t:  stash his drugs, do sexual favors that make you uncomfortable, quit doing what you love, not take care of your emotional and physical health. Once you lose yourself, it’s hard to get back. Don’t let your relationship or its status define you. 
5. Most importantly, YOU WILL GET THROUGH AND OVER THIS. Surround yourself with people who are positive models for healthy relationships and those who know how to do single like bosses. They are proof that it can be done.


          You are beautiful, you are enough.  And know that I am here for you when you are ready and if you have questions  Stay up ladies. Love you.


Here is an additional source:  http://www.loveisrespect.org/is-this-abuse/types-of-abuse/

Hold on

I can officially say that the second week of January 2017 was the most emotionally draining I’ve had in a long time. But if you know me, after I have time to refill my  cup,  I reflect and figure how what's next…. how do I make it better? What can I do differently? How can I help?

Tragedy and Trauma (with capital T's)  were the words of week as I found myself needing to be there for others while internally dealing with my own emotional response. There were very few people who actually checked in to see how I was doing. Then there were people I called and they focused on how they were feelings. I ended most of my days on my couch in a catatonic state, followed b restless sleeping and wearing my mask at work. Now that the week has ended, and I've had time to think, I've learned at least two major lessons this week. The first is I've learned is ...  ask for what you need. There are some of us ( like Me) who are perceived to be these strong people who may bend but never break. And while I do consider myself to be resilient and adept at self-care, this week I really needed a shoulder to cry to on because I spent my days hugging & comforting crying teens and young women during the day, and texting, instant messaging and calling them by night. All of this after news of a successful and then thankfully an unsuccessful suicide attempt, sexual assault on video, hospitalizations and mental breakdowns. All in a matter of days. 
In the mist of it, the innate nurturer in me just wanted to make sure everyone was okay, so I sprang into comforter mode.  But when it was all done, there were about three people who called to check on me. Then I realized it’s not their fault, they assumed that I got this, because most times I do. What I should have done was said was, “Listen I’m emotionally drained and heartbroken, can someone come get my 5 year old so I can have moment to cry."  "Can someone cook me hot food because I just want to lay here."  "Let's a have chocolate or wine and talk it out."  But I didn’t, so I cannot be mad that I didn’t get what I didn’t ask for. My commitment is to make sure from now on that I ask for what I need and I teach my students and mentees to do the same because no one should suffer in silence and so many people do.  As I was there this week  for one of the strongest people, this truth was reiterated.

 This leads me to my second lesson. Early last week I learned that I’m not done with major surgery.Nope. Because of my hernia, I in fact will have to endure another 6 hour surgery, a couple of days in the hospital and 6 weeks of recovery. I was devastated when the surgeon explained why a simple laparoscopic surgery would not be enough. After a small temper tantrum in the car on the way home, I realized. I will get through this as I did all of the others, that that is just the way life works, if you don’t give up. You will get through it and come out on the other side, most times stronger, better, and more beautiful. This is also what I remind myself… and what I will teach my students and mentees as well.  It’s definitely easier said than done, especially when your world is crumbling and you don’t have emotional support or coping skills, like many of the young people in my live. I just hope that by persevering and sharing my story they can see that it is possible. Depression, illness, death, loneliness, etc. It is possible to come out on the other side. This too shall pass.  As I type this I can hear that Wilson Sister’s song in the back of my mind... "Hold on for one day, things will go your way." It’s so true, and until they can hold on to themselves, I’m going to be there to help them hold on. 

Dance with My Mother

I’d be dishonest with the world and myself if I didn’t admit that occasionally I feel a sense of envy and hurt when I see the relationship some of my closest friends have with their mothers. They party together, gamble to together, or live across the street from each other. I can’t help but think that if my mother was alive, she’d dance with me at family parties; I’ve been told all my life that she could cut a mean rug!

Sometimes I wish that I could crawl up in the bed with her like I did when I was three and be vulnerable with her. I’m come along accepting this loss, using my poetry to deal with my emotions, honoring her with my pen name and a tattoo, and having a zest for life so I can live for both of us. Anyone who knows me, knows that I believe in spirit and that much like water, we humans only change form, but our spirits, our energy never really dies. I know her spirit is present, and I get little signs every now and then, but sometimes I just want that physical presence, arms to hold, neck to smell in an embrace. I even get the bigger picture, I wouldn’t be who I am if I hadn’t suffered the loss.  I wouldn’t have ever picked up a pen to process my feelings and written words that I can truly say have inspired others to write, reflect, or do better. I wouldn’t be the type of teacher or mentor who is on call 24/7 for babies. I wouldn’t have this relentless desire to inspire women and teens to take power over their futures instead of being consumed by the past. I know her time was limited, and her purpose was fulfilled in those 23 years (according to two different mediums and my own intuition), but sometimes it doesn’t make it any easier, and sometimes I become overwhelmed with emotions and tears fill up my eyes and I let out a broken cry. This is the reality. I never want to sound ungrateful, I’ve been more than blessed with an enormous family, surrounded by love and mother like figures, something I’m sure other people wish they had.  The older I get the more I come to understand the bigger picture, which is why 90% of the time, I can tell my story to a crowd without even a lump in my throat, but other times, l find myself wondering what would certain moments be like if she was physically there instead of just mentally. 

My mother, looking exhausted after giving me a bath

Bittersweet Choices

   

     Even though I’m consumed with
 my dissertation, I am also

 preparing for the biggest, most complex surgery of my life; my mind and spirit are all over the place.  First off, I am beyond grateful that because of technology I am able to take steps to prevent the breast cancer that took my mother away at such a young age. But when I look at my toddler, I’m sad because my sister and I were so close to his age when she passed away. My baby is 3 ½ and he comes looking for me in the middle of the night. I couldn’t imagine not being there for him, and knowing that I was dying and wouldn’t get to see him grow up. My oldest son just graduated high school, and last week I took him to get his college ID. My mom missed that. My grandmother missed that. And so many other things in between. So lately I’m extra attached to both of them (even though the teen is totally not feeling mom). 

    Then I feel blessed again because it was my choice to wear 

my fabulous wigs, and to chop all my hair off, and it wasn’t the case for my grandmother. I remember coming home from school one day and she was sitting on the couch with a pile of hair in her lap. She explained to me that it was an effect of her chemo. Looking back, her wigs were in no way as beautiful as her once long dark hair.  And when it grew back, it looked a lot like mine does now, just gray. I have options, and it’s amazing, and it’s still scary and bittersweet.

      Then there's my mortality, something I struggled with so

much as a young person, so much that I refused to wear bandanna scarves because I remember my mother wearing them while she was in treatment. 

Now that older, and I’ve outlived my mother, it’s coming into a play again.  I’m going under the knife for 10 to 12 hours. YIKES!!! I’ll be in ICU;  in the hospital away from my baby for 5 days. I’ll have to look at my breasts without nipples or areolas for about 6 months. I will have a huge horizontal scar across my abdomen; I’ll try best to look at that with gratitude because I have a choice. That choice doesn’t involve radiation, chemo, or not being here to see my sons grow and evolve. I have a choice, but it doesn't mean I'm still not apprehensive.

For the Loved Ones

With the holiday season in full bloom, many people are in the mood to celebrate. But there are those of us who are suffering because the holidays remind us of the loved ones we've lost. I myself used to always get depressed after Thanksgiving because that was the last holiday I spent with my grandmother, even though she was bedridden. She died on Christmas morning in 1991, and since then my mother’s side of the family has not actually celebrated Christmas in the traditional sense. Without really acknowledging this, we just began to celebrate on Christmas Eve by coming together to exchange gifts, eat, drink and well…be merry.   On Christmas we all kinda do out own thing. 
   As time has gone on, I've been able to avoid this seasonal sadness, and really begin to celebrate. This is not to say that I don’t think of my grandmother everyday, because I do. But I hold my memories of her so close to me that I cannot help but smile when I think of her. I may cry, but they are tears of joy that I was so lucky to have her in my life, to have her love so unconditionally.

So for those of you out there who feel that emptiness because it’s that loved ones birthday, or anniversary of their passing, I encourage you to fill up on the love, the memories, and cherished time you did have. Easier said than done, I know. But it is also my belief that we are all energy, and energy never dies, it just changes form. So talk to your loved one, acknowledge them through candle lighting,  by going through old photos. or playing music (My grandmother loved Temptations’ Silent Night).  If you pay attention, they will communicate back, through that song on the radio when you first turn on the car,  that scent that you smell out of nowhere, or in that baby bird hanging around suddenly all over your yard, or that feeling of warmth that suddenly consumes you. They are always with you. 
My Ga-Ga is always with me.


"The things we love stay with us always, locked in our hearts..."- Josephine Baker

"The Only Thing Constant in the World is Change."

This is an interlude I listen to regularly from India Aire's sophomore album. It's something  I have to remind myself when I  find I'm resisting what God had planned for me. It's easy to accept change when it's something you have planned and wanted. Okay, easier I should say because I have definitely been guilty of hesitation and procrastination when I've gotten close to have something I've always wanted. Self-sabotage, fear, feelings of inadequacy ( Do I really deserve this?) Of course me being, The Queen of Self-Esteem, after a few minutes of reflection and meditation and I can say, Hell yeah I deserve it! or I'm going for mine, if I fail, so be it, I'll just keep going!  
But what about the change you're not ready for? Like when I was 13 and I had to move in with Aunt because my grandmother's illness and my bad attitude was too much for the household to handle? ( When she died, this situation would become permanent.) Or when I got pregnant my freshman year at UMASS and I had to transfer to a more local college after I had my son?  Or when I realized after 7 years together, and five months before our wedding that I could not live a fruitful life if I married my first love and father of my son.  All things unexpected, all things they made my life wonderful in the end.
With the unexpected changes that have taken place lately in my life, (both physically and career-wise)  I initially went into panic mode. Fear, anxiety, frustration, and a bit of depression. All along in the back of my mind, I know surrendering to the bigger plan is what I must do, but it still doesn't stop my juvenile-like personal response. I have to have my private temper tantrum, give myself a timeout, and then SURRENDER. Who I am not to trust the divine plan? Yes, I have free will, but I'm just a small part of an elaborate design. So I lace up my big girl boots and I get ready to take on the next big challenge, that in the end, will make me a better, stronger person.  And then I say, THANK YOU.