Check your Bags

 My work with young people who have experienced trauma has opened my eyes to the traumatic experiences that many adults (friends, family and strangers) have dealt with and continue to do so daily. This ability to empathize with their struggles has made me much less judgmental and a better listener and understanding my own trauma is why I choose to do what I do. I write about it in more extensively in my memoir. But there are so many people who have yet to address their trauma and it’s a detriment to their health and happiness. Some people drag their baggage around everywhere they go, some try to force others to carry their load. Then there are those who wear all of it like they are trauma brand models.  Oh, and let us not forgot who try to disguise the baggage as fancy accessories, concealing the pain and hurt. In the end, none of it does us any good. While everyone is not going to go for their checkup from the neck up as I previously suggested, there are steps you can take to begin to unpack.

1.   Be present-  Especially when you are about to make a decision. What is it you are doing or are about to do? Pay attention to your body’s physical response and ask yourself why. As someone who struggled with eating disorders in the past this has helped me significantly with my emotional eating.  I ask myself why I really want to order Chinese take out, is it because I’m stressed out about work, or a project? Possibly feeling resentful towards someone? Or is it because I’m hungry and I haven’t had any in a while and I really just want some beef teriyaki?

2.   Reflect instead of deflect- Particularly after a conflict or in a moment of regret. Have you looked at the situation from the other person’s perspective? Was there something you could have done or said differently (in my case it has been that maybe I shouldn’t have said anything)? Ask that WHY once more. Why did you respond that way? What were you feeling? Were you hurt or embarrassed? What were you trying to obtain in that moment?

3.   Reframe your negative experiences- I actually have a full workshop on how to do this. It’s basically the step following reflection. You try to determine the lesson in the experience and find a silver lining. You got laid off?  Perhaps it’s because it’s time for you to chase that dream you’ve been putting off? How has your pain helped you become stronger, or set a positive example of resilience for others?

Our baggage plays a major role and how we came to be who we are today but it doesn’t have to dictate who we will be tomorrow. That is totally up to you!

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

Jumping the Gun: More Fipple problems

It's almost six o'clock on a Saturday and I've just been able to peel myself off the couch...kinda. I was so excited to finally see my new fipples, which look like they will be great once all these stitches dissolve. This was exactly one week after my surgery. My surgeon removed all of the bandages and instructed me to lubricate all of my wounds.

With bandages...don't they look perky? Relax they'll drop some later, but they are smaller

He used skin from underneath my foob to create the fipple

Here I am all oiled up. Can you imagine wearing a bra over this?

He forewarned me that it would be tricky finding the right bra for now, and for some reason, I didn't quite absorb that until I tried to actually wear one. On one hand I was told not to wear anything that could flatten out my new nipples, like the sports bras and  tanks with built- in bras I've grown to love. Then with my lovely  stitches in the uncomfortable spot underneath my breast, no underwires, or hell, any kind of bra. With my green light to go back to work I surely couldn't show up with my headlights beaming. So day one I wore a cupped Victoria's  Secret bra to allow room for my fipples. Unfortunately my day was filled with anguish. Firstly, I was back to driving and turns and backing out hurt all over. Secondly, that expensive ass bra sucked! It cut right into my sore spots, and it wasn't as supportive as my surgical tube top, so every time I bent down...ouch.
 After work I did what he had suggested in the first place, I got some nipples protector cups; the same ones for breast feeding mothers. i wore those with my go to sports bra and it was a better. However, by the end of the day, I was sore from the nipples protectors. Those things are not meant to be worn for 9 hours! So here I am exhausted from only 3 days of work, and uncomfortable unless I'm laying with pillows propped under my arms. It's surprising and disappointing to me
because week one went so well with the bandages and the tube top. No bra= no support, bra= support but flat nipples, or support but pain to my stitches. So I'm laying here for this reason and because  I'm tired. It I may even be slightly depressed; not at my fipples, because they are awesome, but because I'm not 100% and everyone that knows me, know I hate to slow down. I just have to remember that this is temporary, and by summer I'll be more back to normal. Damn Patience!

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