What If?

What If I had ran out of the clinic that day? What if i didn’t go through with it?Well I imagine something like this…………

I ran out of the clinic to save your life, it’s because I had fallen in love with you. It rained on my head, but it didn’t matter, as long as you had a safe secure place inside me. I vowed from that moment on to protect you, no one would ever harm you. On my way home I strategized, I planned. I started feeling nervous, then sad, happy, then mad, I was preparing for your arrival. Your Grandma is going to chew me out, but it will be worth it. She will see the beauty in you too.

The first trimester, and I’m I was constantly sick. Nausea over has taken over my body. I can’t keep anything down. I cry lot over the simplest things. When I Misplace items, when I can’t find clothes that fit, when I’m  stressed from work, rubbing my belly is the only form of comfort. I talk to you like crazy, I even bought headphones to place on my tummy so you could hear Miles Davis. The second trimester is the home stretch.

My stomach has become rounder. My breast feel full and tender. I could finally eat! Pizza was a definite favorite. At night, when you move around I play Stevie Wonder’s “You and I” you love that song, so much that you stop kicking. You absolutely love music.

Its time, your almost here, mommy is scared. Will you be healthy? Will I be able to make it without an epidural? I am embracing the the birth process, as long as I got to hold you in my arms. Exhausted from pushing you finally are here. You are magnificent. I gave birth to a superhuman that I will love unconditionally. You have ten toes, ten fingers, lots of hair. When I hear your cries, I cry. It’s not because of the pain, or worries, I cry because I almost ended you life. You chose me to be your mother. I am so proud of that. You grew perfectly inside me. The nurse handed you to me. I looked righr into those eyes. A cosmic Feeling took over my entire body, a feeling hard to explain. It felt like the earth had shifted, I started too see and think about things clearly. Everything made sense, you made sense.

Watching you sleep, changing diapers, kissing your soft cheeks, holding you when you cried, I enjoy every moment. I am fortunate enough to to be apart of your development. I smiled from ear to ear when you took your first steps, clapped when you could hold the bottle in your own. “That’s my baby”! I would yell, your grandma loves it too. I became even more happy when you started to talk, can you guess what my favorite saying of yours is?  You shouting “Mommy”! over and over with a innocent smile. When you learned the word, I would become overwhelmed with happiness and joy. You bring me happiness. When you cry I immediately tend to you, you are my first and only priority.  I hate to see my baby cry, whether you Fall down, or just not getting your way. I kiss your soft chocolate cheeks and tickle you. God I love your laugh it reminds me of what I created. You are so smart, kind, curious, and helpful. God couldn’t have blessed me more. I will teach you about life. I will teach you what it is to be a generous human. I promise, i will be there beside you at every important phase in your life (first day of school, birthday parties, Zoo trips, prom, college).

I don’t know what my life would be like without you in it, and i couldn’t imagine being without you.

What If?

Featured Photo: mapodile/Getty Images

 

Reverse

I hate that you’re happy

Hate that you moved on

Without, me

Satisfaction becomes of you

So content, in control

How am I? you ask

Happily miserable

How can it be that

It’s not the other way around?

It is me to who fills your position

I take on the weight you carried

Weight that is now invisible to you

You walk proudly in it

You brag and stop people in the street you yell “look at me, Look at me, I’m blessed”!

While people continue to move when I appear

Energies transfered in the same wake of sexual pleasure

Passing your vengeful demons unto my sacred place

I beg to God for your sins

May I wrap it in gift wrap for you?

Sorrow in a pretty decorated box

Let’s switch shall we?

I will indulge in life

You indulging in isolation and silence

Shifting reaccuring

I want your power

The ability to love without consequence

must be nice.

 

Poem: Me

 

Hey Girl (Pt.2)

It was a beautiful summer night. The stars were shinning, the 80 degree breeze felt wonderful, and crisp. My top remined down on my new mercedes benz truck. Snob Alegra’s “I want you around” played through the spkeakers. I  couldn’t help but to sing along, this was a beat. “I want you around, around, i want you around, around, i want you around”. I was excited.  Excited to see Don, and excited to get a little loving. I knew Don and i were just having “fun”, but I’m starting to feel Don, i might want to take it further than just some great casual sex.

I made my exit on the highway, i started feeling nervous “I know Don looking too good, i thought “I hope he likes what I have planned”. Before making my way to Don’s I stopped by Bevomo for a alcoholic beveragered. Wine is my drink of choice, well wine and tequila. When I walked inside, it was empty, i expected it to be slow, judging on the time of night. I went on a search for a sweet red wine. They didn’t have any wine that i liked, so i decided on Apothic Red wine. I grabbed two bottles and headed for the cash register. The female clerk at the register was rude as hell. She chewed her gum loudly and had the nerve not to greet me. I had to initiate the greeting.

See, my mother taught me about manners and speaking to people, obviously this girls momma and grandma didn’t teacher her shit. Staring her in the face i slightly yell “Hi, how are you today”? She looked at me popped her gum and “Good” she replied with a snarky attitude, she started to swipe the wine bottles across the scanner. I thought to myself “damn this place has terrible customer service”. She then pointed to the small screen, and said dryly, “That’s your total”, she replied after scanning my wines I was outdone, this chick was a damn trip. “Is your manager here”? i asked “No”. I looked to see what her name was on her badge. “Well Ebonye,  it seems like you have an attitude”. She sighed “M’aam I don’t have an attitude “. “You must, you didn’t speak, and you damn near broke my bottles of wine swiping them hard across scanner, how can i reach your manager, is he or she available”? Miss Ebonye smacked her lips, grabbed a pen and a sticky note. Aggressively she  wtote down the number and handed it to me. “You should be happy you have a job, but you have the nerve to have an attitude”.  Ebonye crossed her arms, “Anything else ma’am”? “Yea, yo ass need to attend customer service training too”. She then stared at me, not saying a word. “This heffa here” I thought. I searched my Gucci purse for my wallet, i took out my credit card out and inserted it into the machine. Once the payment was approved I placed my debit card back into my wallet and zipped my purse closed. Miss Ebonye was lucky I didn’t knock her ass off in this establishment. She’s lucky I’m a christan woman and i have a dick appointment, or else we would have to move all the alchol back.  Ebonye printed out my recepit and dropped it in a plastic bag along with the red wine. She looked at me, she said nothing, not even a “Have a great night”. I was going to make sure to call her supervisor on Monday.

As i grabbed my bag, and said these words to miss attitude, “Get happy sweetheart, it will suit you better”. I then picked up my bag from the counter, twirled, and walked out of the double doors. No one was going to kill my vibe tonight………….

Part 2 of 3

Hey Girl!

(Story Contains Graphic Language)

“Damn”! i shouted as my Gucci Bloom perfume slipped from my greasy hands landing on my hardwood floor. Looking down at my ringing  phone was Tanisha, “I just talked to this heffa an hour ago”. The sound of “life is good” by Drake and future played as i started to shake my ass in the mirror. knowing the song would be over i decided to pick up “Hey Girl”  i let out a deep breath, “Tanisha, did i not talk to you an hour ago? what’s up? “Um, excuse me! i can call my best friend whenever i damn well feel like it, i don’t care if it was ten minutes ago, why do you have an attitude with me tramp”? “I don’t”, rolling my eyes “I’m trying to get dressed for my date with Don tonight”. i hear utter silence, did she just hang up on me?  “Uh, hello Nisha you there”? Tanisha sucked her teeth “Yea, i’m still here”, “Didn’t you hear what i just said”? “Yea, Yea i heard you, i was trying to think of how i was going to respond”.  This bitch was starting to piss me off “Go ahead say what you have to say, cause i know you have something to say, Tanisha”. I could hear the hesitation in her voice “Spit it out bitch”! “Okay, look i know you feeling Don and all, but i just have a feeling about him, i just don’t think that he is really interested, i think he is looking for something more, casual”. This bitch had her nerve, when she first met Eric i supported her, when Eric proposed, i was there, when she found out she was pregnant guess who was there? Me! this bitch was in the delivery room witnessing the worst horror show ever and now she wants to tell me about my relationship? Nisha was my best friend, my sister but i needed her to shut the fuck up, and support the Dick movement. “Here we go Nisha, same shit”. “Look i know, but when we went on that double date to the bowling alley, don stayed on his phone, he seemed like he didn’t want to be there, i just don’t want you hurt like the last time”. Water started to fill my eyes remembering what i went through with Dre. Shit i’m gong to mess up my freshly done make-up, i did an extra special beat for tonight.  i grabbed a tissue from my nightstand and dabbed my cheeks. ” Neesh i know you are worried and your looking out for me but i’m a big girl, i can handle whatever, its nothing serious, anyway we just having fun okay”?,  “Alright i’m not going to say anything else, i’m zipping my damn lips, you are right you are a big girl, a horny ass big girl, but none the less a big girl”.  I let out a chuckle “Shut up tramp, all my sexual needs will be met by the end of the night, don’t be jealous cause Eric had that little incident and ya’ll cant get down for another two weeks”.  Nisha gasped, ” I thought we weren’t going to bring that up”, she whispered “You know he is sensitive about that, plus he has a mouth, the dick is just a bonus”. ” Ewwww too much information”! We both laughed “Well i’m going to let you go i’m still trying to put the finishing touches on my hair”. “Alright now, that shit gone be all over your head in the morning anyway”. “Ha Ha! Whatever”!  “Be safe Simone”. “Okay Nisha”. “I love you”. Nisha replied  “I love you more”.

After the phone call i went back into the bathroom to apply edge control to my edges. I looked damn good tonight, i’m sure Don and i will get it popping when i hit the door, fuck it we can eat afterward. Laughing out loud i make my final twirl in my full size mirror ” “Simone you are a sexy bitch”. I blow a kiss to myself, grab my Gucci overnight bag and purse and head for the door.

Part 1 of 3 part series

Featured Photo: Innerbeautysavage.com

I Think I Need Therapy

Since the COVID-19 pandemic, the stay at home order, The death of George Floyd and global protests, things have been uncomfortable and difficult to cope with. I found that my anxiety has taken a toll for the worst. I have heard that with this time of isolation, it should be viewed as an opportunity to slow down, rest, regroup, re-prioritize, and to sit in whatever your feeling, positive or negative. I sat way too damn long. I found myself being swallowed by thoughts that i don’t usually have when i’m occupied. The thoughts are not really thoughts at all, but memories. Good and bad. Don’t you just hate good happy memories? i mean think about it, all the good memories that you may have experienced with people who are no longer in your life. The of laughter, peace, fun, excitement, great sex. Those memories are ingrained forever, they weigh out the bad memories. Scientist explain memories as “formed proteins that stimulate our brains cells to grow and form new connections literally rewiring our minds’ circuitry. Once that happens, a memory is stored in your mind, and for most of us, it’ll stay there as long as we occasionally reflect upon it or revisit it”.  “In fact, every time we revisit a memory, that memory becomes malleable again, the memory remains there as long as we revisit it from time to time,and is reset stronger and more vividly than before”. Isn’t that something? i know some of you wish that there was a way to erase the bad memories, some of the good one’s too depending on who is in it. It sounds silly imagining myself lying under a large magnetic device to swipe my memory hardrive, or taking a prescribed pill with the name “memory be gone” on the bottle is rather weird, but in a way, i wished that they both existed. I’m pretty sure i’m not the only one that experiences this often am i? Memories get intense, especially when you have nothing to do. I mean, its only so much cleaning, organizing, and reading a girl can do. I find it exciting and stimulating when there is noise all around, people here and there, kids screaming while they play, but it’s been a ghost town. This quarantine has opened up memories that i tried so hard to forget. When i sit in isolation, i take a deep journey into the unknown, the most dangerous place, my mind.

Finding out that i will be reunited with co workers, students, and parents on June 15th, made me jump for joy, Finally! i can become so immersed in my occupation that i wont have time to think of good or bad memories. If i do begin thinking of one of my many memories, my little alarm clocks will go off, (my students) and they will bring me back to the current moment. I will be able to center myself and fill my thoughts of tasks that need to be completed for that particular day. But what happens when i’m alone again?  what happens when i have completed all my tasks and my “thoughts” start to wander? Realizing that i may have to let go of a person, the memory of them, and the good times that were created, is painful. I want to relive that period in my life. I find myself fantasizing and creating new memories around the ones that remain there, as if i’m a director of my own movie. But the only thing about fantasy, it’s just that, a fantasy, a story that you create in your head, that in most cases never come to fruition. Acknowledging my thoughts and fantasies, and what i create in my head can trigger anxiety, trigger depression. Before the quarantine, i thought i had been mentally prepared to take on whatever fear, i thought i was prepared to sit in isolation.

Though Prayer, bible reading, and writing, kept my attention, my soul longed for something else, someone else. The progress i made with past therapy sessions and retreats had all of a sudden dissipated. I became “Her” all of a sudden. I Thought i had gotten rid of her, years ago, but she is still remains with me. So, since i am having a difficult time managing my “thoughts” and living in my own a mental prison, i decided that i should try therapy again,specifically CBT ( Cognitive Behavioral Therapy). This time around, i hope to focus purely on my  “thoughts” and how they can manipulate my decision making. I so desperately want to learn how to let go of the past memories and make better one’s. I want to learn in depth how to control my way thinking. I want the undivided individual attention of someone who will  listen and remain judgement free. According to the conversation, an online article, “Cognitive Behavioral Therapy is one of the most scientifically reported treatments for anxiety disorders, But unfortunately, a recent us study indicates that in around 50% of patients, old fear memories resurface four years after CBT or drug treatment”. “Put in another way, the old fear memories seem impermeable to erasure through gold-standard therapy or drug treatment”. I wish to not become apart of The 50%. look forward to going back to work the week after next. I look forward to having a daily routine again. (can also trigger my anxiety)

When i return to work to see those adorable little faces, maybe the memories will decrease, maybe they won’t, but in any case…….I think i need therapy.

 

 

Featured Photo: Madamenoire.com

Newall, Carol, and Rick Richardson. “You Can’t ‘Erase’ Bad Memories, but You Can Learn Ways to Cope with Them.” The Conversation, 2 Mar. 2020, theconversation.com/you-cant-erase-bad-memories-but-you-can-learn-ways-to-cope-with-them-103161.

MacDonald, Fiona. “Scientists Already Know How to ‘Erase’ Your Painful Memories… And Add New Ones.” ScienceAlert, Fiona Macdonald, 15 Feb. 2016, http://www.sciencealert.com/scientists-have-figured-out-how-to-to-erase-your-painful-memories.

Surrender

He praises my body entirely 

stomach round about curves

I stand in front of the king

naked as a jay bird, shy as a school girl 

He kneels on one knee to look up at what he is about to devour

He’s hungry, his eyes say so

His chocolate skin glistens from the candle light

Shoulders, back straight,

biceps bulging from the roots

His height ass tall as Hyperion

My stomach in knots

but i have yet to surrender what’s rightfully his

his lips soft as soapstone

i can feel him breathe

his tongue reminds me of waves swishing back and fourth 

wet and quiet moving with the tide

He is able to stimulate the vulva without touch

i call him the magician

the weight of his body and skin

fit perfectly on top of me

I surrender

i surrender

he covers every inch of my neck

He inspects it with his tongue like a doctor 

a form of punishment, as he smiles

enjoying the sight of my torture

My breast taken in full, freely

into his mouth

light moans can be heard from, the kingdom

i offer him a gift, i know he wont return

he accepts 

i can see heaven his eyes

his scent excites me 

nipples grow intensely like mount Kenya

i plead for him to enter me, my life depends on it

now feeling great pressure, pain, from 

easing slowly into me

gasping for air 

our bodies are now connected,

My womb the source of our children, his seeds a blueprint for our family tree

in, and out each stroke harder than the first  

both hearts beating, too quick to count

he says “wrap your legs around me”

Let me in, let me in

I comply

my pulse racing faster, and faster 

King pounding like Djembe

I surrender

I surrender

uterine muscles become tighter, his stroke faster

wetness becomes overwhelming

Centering apex, i no longer in control

King and i surrender

he clutches all of me into his arms

him and i reciting softly, “imekamilika”

 

Poetry By: Me

Imekamilika is Swahili for: It is finished;complete

Djembe: African Drum

Featured Photo: Pinterest 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Visit To Darkness

I Find myself going deeper and deeper

Where the dark goes

Total silence, excluded from the elements of the earth

Disconnected from all things

Body limp, spirit broken, thoughts paralyzed

Confused, where do I go?

Can I make it to the light?

The darkness invites me in

Throws over me a warm blanket

I find myself cozy here

Darkness and I talk daily

The warm blanket that once kept me warm, now suffocates my senses

“I want out”! I say thank you for letting me stay

Darkness pouts

The blanket has lifted

“we shall meet again” he says

Walked miles and miles to the light

I’m free

I’m free

I’m finally free.

 

Poetry By: Me

Featured Image: Tumblr

 

“34 Excuses For Why We Failed At Love” By Warsan Shire

I’m lonely so I do lonely things

Loving you was like going to war I never came back the same

You hate women, just like your father and his father, so it runs in your blood

I was wandering, the derelict car park of your heart looking for a ride home

You’re a ghost town I’m too patriotic to leave

I stay because you’re the beginning of the dream I want to remember

I didn’t call him back because he likes his girls voiceless

It’s not that he wants to be a liar; it’s just that he doesn’t know the truth

I couldn’t love you, you were a small war.

We covered the smell of loss with jokes

I didn’t want to fail at love like our parents

You made the nomad in me build a house and stay

I’m not a dog

We were trying to prove our blood wrong

I was still lonely so I did even lonelier things

Yes, I’m insecure, but so was my mother and her mother

No, he loves me he just makes me cry a lot

He knows all of my secrets and still wants to kiss me

You were too cruel to love for a long time

It just didn’t work out

My dad walked out one afternoon and never came back

I can’t sleep because I can still taste him in my mouth

I cut him out at the root, he was my favorite tree, rotting, threatening the foundations of my home

The women in my family die waiting

Because I didn’t want to die waiting for you

I had to leave, I felt lonely when he held me

You’re the song I rewind until I know all the words and I feel sick

He sent me a text that said “I love you so bad.”

His heart wasn’t as beautiful as his smile

We emotionally manipulated one another until we thought it was love

Forgive me, I was lonely so I chose you

I’m a lover without a lover

I’m lovely and lonely

I belong deeply to myself.

 

 

Poetry By: Warsan Shire

Featured Image: Getty Images

Dear Black Men (Black Lives Matter)

Growing up I didn’t have many male figures to look up too. I thank God that I was blessed with two older brothers and a few male cousins. My mother took my father’s place because he was absent. I had uncles, but one was killed before I was born, and the other in and out of jail. I didn’t know the role of a Black male, I just knew that the women in my family loved  black men. There had always been a longing for me to connect to a strong Black present male. Growing up in Richmond California Black men/boys were all around me. Most struggling to survive, some fighting to make it out the hood, and some became a product of what they lived in, what they were exposed to (drugs, gang, violence, crime, sex). The odds were meant to be against them since they were born, the system was set up in a way where the Black male were destined to fail. Drug dealing, pimping, hustling were not what our black kings were meant to be. It was a way of survival, to eat, to make sure grandma and nem was straight.  I witnessed Black men in the community always becoming a victim of police brutality and they were constantly harassed. I always saw a Black males getting arrested and shoved inside a cop car on the daily, most times for no reason other than standing on the corner, simply walking, or driving.  I always observed police becoming hostile and alert when they interacted with a Black man.  I always wondered, why is it always the Black man? Aren’t they getting the short end of the stick already? Have they not been oppressed since they brought us from the motherland and across the seas? 

What was it about black men that cause the white man in power or the oppressor so uncomfortable? Their smooth melaninated skin? their knowledge? The fact that they are hip to the racist agenda?  their big broad shoulders? Their swag? Their demeanor? The size of their…….? Seriously, I could go on and on and on about my Black kings. It seems, they despise our Black men so much that they are willing to to kill, earn power, and recognition for it.  What makes it okay for a person who is obligated to protect us from harm, kill our father’s, sons, grandfather’s, cousins, and uncles? Where are the consequences? Where is the justice? enough is enough!

Image:
Tony L. Clark holds a photo of George Floyd outside the Cup Food convenience store on May 28, 2020, in Minneapolis.

How do i, a Black woman, protect my Black kings?  How do I advocate for Black men’s lives? According to US statistics, Black men and boys face the highest risk of being killed by police at a rate of 96 out of 100,000 deaths. By comparison, white men and boys face a lower rate of 39 per 100,000 deaths, despite being a bigger portion of the U.S. population. The risk is greatest between ages 20 and 35 for men and women overall, and men are far more likely than women to be killed by police”.  These statistics are frightening! this is excluding the count for the black women that have also been murdered. 

ahmaud-arbery-1588598208With recent slaying of George Floyd, Ahmaud Arbery, Sean Reed, Steven Taylor and countless others. The pot has boiled over. It has gone to the point of no return. People are outraged, just as they should be. I am outraged, broken, and furious that this continues to happen over, and over again, with no justice, no dire consequences. This could easily be my brothers, my uncle, or cousins. Condemnation and outrage aren’t enough. We, as a nation, black or white must come together to push for systemic change. I urge law enforcement and governments to join efforts and name the system of white supremacy that accepts acts of violence against Black people and other communities of color. This transformation must include thorough investigations into police assaults and killings, acts of brutality, reforms in state laws on the use of force by police, and nationwide changes in law enforcement hiring practices to expose implicit bias and meaningfully diversify staff with more women and people of color.  I believe that within the police academy it should be mandatory for recruits to take courses on racial sensitivity. I believe that there should be psychological assessments to determine if the recruits have have prejudices against other races. Officers who have more than two disciplinarian incidents involving police brutality need to be terminated and punished to the fullest extent.  We have been enslaved, we have been lynched, raped, and held down for too damn long. NOW is the time for HUMANS, regardless of cultural and racial difference to unite and fight for change. Change Is Now!

DEAR BLACK MEN,

I am deeply sorry that you’ve had to encounter so much hurt, pain, discrimination, obstacles, and backstabbing from those who look like you and don’t look like you. I’m sorry and acknowledge that you don’t receive affirmation, or value as a black man. Your not always edified by woman who look like your sisters. You are hated by most, not acknowledged as being great because of your choices and circumstance. You are portrayed as “evil” to the world based upon societal trickery and false images shown by the media (killers, aggressive, rapist, cheaters animals, liars, lazy, broke etc). 

If you have never been affirmed, i am proud and always ready to affirm you respectfully. You are valued, you are not your past mistakes. You are loved, appreciated, the head and not the tail. You bring have a valuable life to bring to the table. You are uniquely made under the image of god, your strength speaks volumes. You are supported through prayer, and protected by the almighty god. You are wonderful fathers, brothers, sons, grandfathers, uncles, god fathers, friends, business owners, creators, inventors, teachers, and helping professionals with something valuable to add. You are the epitome of god’s first creation, the rib that can never be shun behind closed doors of those “history books”.I personally would like to thank you for adding value to brown women like myself, and it is my due diligence to salute you, because you deserve it.

 

 

                                                                                                               Sincerely,

                                                                                                               A Black Woman

 

 

 

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Breonna Taylor-05132020

 

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Aye Yo! Play that Solange “A Seat At The Table” Album Right Quick”!!!!

Solange_-_A_Seat_at_the_Table

 

 

 

References:

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/A_Seat_at_the_Table

https://www.google.com/amp/s/abcnews.go.com/amp/US/family-man-killed-police-walmart-angered-lack-notification/story%3fid=70284327

Santhanam, L. (2019, August 09). After Ferguson, black men still face the highest risk of being killed by police. Retrieved May 31, 2020, from https://www.pbs.org/newshour/health/after-ferguson-black-men-and-boys-still-face-the-highest-risk-of-being-killed-by-police

Feature photo:https://www.positive.news/society/i-am-not-a-stereotype-the-photo-campaign-that-celebrates-black-men/

Pic Credit: https://minnesota.cbslocal.com/

https://abcnews.go.com/US/cellphone-video-shows-georgia-jogger-allegedly-ambushed-gunmen/story?id=70509641

Breonna Taylor Photo: Google

Sean Reed Photo: Google

The Conclusion

Before i get into the conclusion want to say thank you to everyone who has supported me during this difficult time. Thank you to those who have taken the time to visit my blog and read my story. Thank you to those who sent beautiful uplifting messages saying that i helped them get through their healing. Thank you for your positive comments, and well wishes, i really appreciate it, and again i started this blog to help others and continue to heal for myself. I did not expect the great responses that i received from many SO THANK YOU!

 

Wow!! we are finally here! it took me almost a year and a half to finish the conclusion. I wouldn’t consider this the conclusion to my story because there is always room to grow. I have so much more to learn and experience.

 

So, Let’s Get To It Shall We?

The retreat was something i had never experienced before in my life. I received so much support from the people i met there, and from him. God lead us there and i received redemption. My faith in god had been restored, my spirit had been purified and reborn. I left Rachel’s Vineyard hopeful and ecstatic for what God had in store for me, for my life. Months passed since the retreat. The next event that happened shocked and surprised me, my ex had requested me as a friend on Facebook. I thought “really after all this time?” I was in a good space, I was beginning to forget about him completely, but i wanted him to know that i was content, that I made it through my healing. I nervously accepted. Two minutes later i received a message from him. He apologized for what he had done to contribute to my situation and Blah Blah Blah. He said he wanted to see me so he could tell me how sorry he was in person. Butterflies flew in my stomach. I took this as an opportunity, screw my pretend “Letter” i had written to him, it was my chance to tell him how i really felt in person. We decided to meet.

My ex and i  met at a local Starbucks. He and i sat at a table outside. When I saw him, I feelings started to return, i missed him. He complimented me, telling me how beautiful and good i looked. I thought “you damn right i look good, you could you missed out on a good woman”. I skipped the pleasantries and dove right in. I took advantage immediately, i knew that this was the last time we would see one another. I started to express my feelings. I felt empowered, i felt like i could finally advocate for myself. I explained to him that when i had to go through that experience alone, i experienced major trauma. I also explained that what he and i contributed to, turned my life upside down. He listened, but i just didn’t think it changed  him like it had changed me. His body language was so caviler. I then realized that maybe he wasn’t as affected as i was, maybe to him, it was just sex. I was the one reading into it, trying to make it more than it was. I think he felt relief not having to deal with me anymore or my “problems”. We left on a good note. I hoped he had changed, I hoped that he would ask me to be with him, I didn’t want it to be officially over.

I left the meeting that day realizing that i couldn’t depend on another human being to help me heal, I couldn’t depend on him to love me. I realized that people you truly cared about at one point can be so cruel, so careless. I had to take that journey alone and that scared the crap out of me. My ex has moved on. It hurt me to know that he happily moved on and built a family and has more children. He found someone that he could love. I realized that even though I had my own space, an education, a kind heart, and wonderful profession, he still didn’t want me, I was invincible, everyone else saw my beauty, my spirit, but why couldn’t he? The selfish part of me, again wondered why he was able to move on so quickly. What made this woman so damn special? why wasn’t my child good enough to live? why wasn’t I good enough?

Time had passed. God had finally brought some peace and quietness to my life. I no longer needed therapy at that point in my journey. My depression and anxiety were well managed. My mood started to change, i started to enjoy things that interest me before, and new things that had not interest me. I started to live, i started to speak up. I felt stronger, i felt like a new me had been born. I had so many tools that i gained from the retreat, my therapy sessions, and my anxiety management group sessions. I put in the work to bring Cecilie back. I was no longer the young naive, gullible young girl i had been two years prior, i was better. God transitioned me, he was preparing me for bigger blessings and opportunities. There is still more work to do, and i still have difficult days. I still cry, I still mourn, i still blame myself, i heavily regret what i did, but i cant go back and change what happened. I can only learn from it, pray on it, and and try to continue to move on.

In many ways my abortion has changed me as a woman, it changed me as a person, it has changed me as a human being. I view the world in a different light, a different angle. God intended for me to improve, to open my eyes and to come to him. To lean on him, to depend on him and only him. 11 years later and and there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about my child.  I admit it’s been more difficult for me to cope with my depression/anxiety due to the COVID-19 Pandemic. My job had to close down it’s centers. I’m anxiously waiting for the “stay at home order” to be lifted so i can get back to my babies and regular life. I’m going crazy! I think we all are.

I try to protect my space, try to occupy my free time. To distract my self I watch movies, read, play SIMS 4 on my console, write, and have my occasional glass of wine. Jhene Aiko is my spirit animal so she is constantly playing throughout my place. I do feel lonely most times. It becomes quiet and my thoughts start to become so loud. I have a tendency to go into my head and stay there. I really would like to start meditating again on a regular basis. I also think that I could benefit from some extra therapy to help me with the ex part. I’m not able to see my family and that has been the most difficult. I thrive being around people, when people aren’t around I have to face my thoughts. I also can’t go out and buy sneakers and shop like i want(LOL) so i do it online. Shopping is also a distraction. I  look at This pandemic as an opportunity, An opportunity to reset, an opportunity to take care of cecilie.  I am able to write more,  clean, and organize my space. I am able to pay attention to my body’s needs. I am able to pamper myself when I’m in the mood.

I had a difficult time sharing each part of what i went through. I was embarrassed, and ashamed of what i had done, i was ashamed that i had an abortion. I was ashamed that I didn’t have enough dignity to move on and let my ex go. I work with children, i love children, that is my passion. I went to school to learn about child development. How could i want to be a teacher? how could i look at these innocent faces each day knowing what i had done? I questioned myself often if i should have even worked with small children at all. It broke my heart. By writing I opened up a wounds that i thought had healed. When i think that i’m okay talking about it and opening up, i end up being in this sad, dark place. I cry at night most times, my thoughts start to race, i go into feeling guilty again. At times  feel like i have taken 20 steps forward, and 40 back.  I think of what “would have”, what “should have”, and “what if” When i started the first part of my story i felt anxious and feared what others would say.  I acknowledge that i used a platform that millions of people utilize each day to share what i went through. People will read my experience and judge. Many will read this and say “it’s not a loss, it was intentional, she meant to kill an innocent life”,  i say yes, it might have been intentional but to me, I experienced loss, i felt grief. I did not have support, i was given one option when i should have been offered more than abortion. I had no resources at that time to help me, i sure wish i did.

My hope is that other women and young girls will read this. I hope that my testimony will inspire others to share their story also, not just about abortion, but about heartbreak and loss. There are so many women/Girls who suffer in silence. There are many that didn’t suffer at all and felt at peace with the decision they had to make, and that’s okay too. But for the ones who don’t have the courage to come out and say “Yes, i had an abortion! i want to tell them “It’s okay, i support you, give yourself time to heal, come out when you are ready”!

If you are considering terminating a pregnancy or need emotional support after experiencing abortion call these numbers below:

  • Option Line(after abortion support): 1(800)712-4357 you can also text HELPLINE to 313131
  • Exhale: Text: 617-749-2948

Sunday 3 p.m. – 7 p.m.
Monday 3 p.m. – 9 p.m.
Tuesday 3 p.m. – 9 p.m.
Wednesday 3 p.m. – 9 p.m.
Thursday 3 p.m. – 9 p.m.

  • All Options
    1-888–493-0092
    Monday through Friday, 10 am – 1 am Eastern
    Saturday through Sunday, 10 am – 6 pm Eastern
  • Connect and Breathe
    1-866-647-1764
    Tuesdays through Thursdays 6pm – 9pm Eastern
    Saturdays 10am – 2pm Eastern
  • Faith Aloud
    1-888-717-5010
    You will reach a voicemail. Leave your first name and phone number; a counselor will call back.

  • National Suicide Prevention Hotline
    1-800-273-TALK (8255); 24 hours; English (other languages vary)
    1-888-628-9454; 24 hours; Spanish
    1-800-799-4TTY (4889);24 hours; TTY
  • Rachel’s Vineyard: 877 HOPE 4 ME (877-467-3463)
  • National Hotline for Abortion Recovery: 866-482-LIFE (866-482-5433)

You can also Join my Facebook community Page @blackgirlDiaries

“There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.” – Maya Angelou

 

 

Pic Credit: templebethmiriam.org/