5 Things Every Black Woman Needs To Hear from their significant other.

 

20190216_133539_0000As a black woman in today’s society it’s hard for some to  acknowledge struggles that black women face in society and have faced for years. We are wives,  mothers, daughters, friends, and entrepreneurs, but yet i feel that we are not acknowledge enough by our people and by our men. We work, go to school, bear children, cook, pay the bills, contribute to household disaters, do the shopping. We are expected to do all this and perform to the highest standard in the bedroom. But there are rewards and incentives that should be implemented in order for us to continue to feel loke we matter, that we are needed and wanted. Everyone needs a little Positive descriptive acknowledgement(PDA). I learned of this through my early childhood education trainings. The term (PDA) or positive descriptive acknowledgment is basiclly praise we give children when they act on a positive interaction or behavior, it is used to build a child’s  confidence and to encourage more of the positive behavior. I believe adults need this also. Who wouldn’t want to hear praise in great detail? I know i would feel warm inside if someone acknowledged my good actions and qualities. To use PDA on a woman is Not just saying this,  “man babe that fried chicken was good” but describing the positive action or behavior “babe dinner was delicious i appreciate you taking the time to make this meal for the family”. Not only do you try this with your signifigant other, but try it on your friendly cashier at a local grocery store, your bubbly waitress at your favorite restaurant, even a helpful retail employee, i promise it does wonders. Take notes! Black women need to feel appreciated! Which brings me to number 1:

1. I appreciate you

From picking our kids up from school, to grocery shopping, doing laundry, cooking, making kids their lunch, making the husband his lunch, it is in us to nurture and take care of our family. When we do meet needs of our family and go far and beyond we just need a little something to show that the people we take care appreciates our acts of care and pure well being. So when a man comes home to a clean house, dinner, and some booty to end the night. It also helps to let your lady know “thank you babe” be specific on what your thankful for “thank you for cooking my favorite meal, thank you for cleaning the house, thank you for putting the kids to bed, i really appreciate everything you do for us”. Women need to hear this daily!!!!!!

2. You Are Loved

Women need to know and hear that we are sexy no matter if we have wide hips, big behind, or flat chest. We as women tend to pick our bodies apart and compare our bodies with other women’s body, i know i do, but when you have a man that loves your weight, stretchmarks, saggy breast, flabby arms, wide thighs and much more you realize that what society considers beautiful doesn’t matter because you have a man that thinks you are the most beautiful in his world, the beyonce to his jay- z , the jada to his will. When i have one of my days where i’m not feeling what i’m wearing, or i’m feeling down and  self confidence is low i hear this ” you are right for me, every part of you is beautiful,you are enough, you are my queen”. When i hear these words something inside me rises, my confidence goes from 0 to 100 and i feel confident in my own skin, not only do i know i’m sexy, but my significant other knows it too.

3. You Are Respected

Would you ever disrespect your mother by calling her a bitch? would you want a man or woman to call your daughter out of her name and abuse her? So why do we do it to other men and women? I have been called a bitch, and i have heard women being called bitches. The same women that you are calling a bitch is someone who contributes to this world. As women we need respect, we want respect, we demand respect. Respect is what we have earned, people respect all women/men no matter what decisions or experiences that women have gone through. When there is no respect shown, that can’t  be reciprocated. We have to set an example for the younger generation. We have to teach society that women carry a lot of power, a power that men alone cannot hold. Women, we also need to set boundaries for ourselves when it comes to us respecting ourselves and other women. When a man/person acknowledges that you have boundaries and expectations it leaves no room for disrespect. My favorite author and life coach inyanla vanzant stated ““We have such a rich culture and in that culture, there are roles and purposes and powers. And we live in a society now where women are commodities, where women are demeaned, diminished, demoralized in ways that we accommodate, And if we really understood who we are as feminine representations of the creator of the universe, some of the things that we experience in life — like crying when the unemployed boo boo leaves us , if we really understood who we are, we wouldn’t be so apt to let other people define us and confine us. We are out of order!”. Ladies we must respect ourselves, we must carry standards and believe in our morals in order to gain the respect that is deserved and necessary.

4. Its Okay

As women we are expected to be superwoman, work, school, raising our children, preparing meals, cleaning, laundry, picking up and dropping off,  hold down the house AND while the husband is away, still keeping our personal dreams alive, but at times it can become overwhelming mentally and physically. Some of us might be depressed, drained, and loose sight of our own happiness and what we want. When we hit a stump in the road and we feel like we are not incontrol, when it’s too much pressure, too much demanded tell her it’s okay, tell her she Dosen’t have to take it on by herself. Every great man needs a greater woman to stand next too. Becoming a team and keeping open communication supports the union and love between lovers.

I can’t do this without you

So many responsibilities are put on “The man of the castle”. Whether it’s his job,  bills, household repairs, men can’t do it all without a strong woman behind him. Just because men are deamed strong Dosent mean that they can’t feel or become overwhelmed. At times i belive that men can be just as sensitive as women. Men go through challenges, hardships, loss, and self doubt often. Men need a woman that’s going to listen, a woman who is loyal and honest, a woman that is going to give him the gut wrenching low down dirty trtuth.Men need to feel like they can trust their woman with everything. When a man feels secure and know that you are down for him with the utmost  loyalty, they will want you there hrough all lifes challenges. When he is down on his luck he will to his woman to pick him up, when he gets laid off his woman should do whatever is necessary to make sure the family is taken care of while her man looks for work. He shouldn’t have to carry the load in his own, he needs the live and support from his woman. When challenges and obstacles arise, women should hear “i can’t do this without you babe, i need you”.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mental Health Awareness

Once i was in a very dark place. I lost hope, i lost, confidence, and i lost my mind. Growing up there were no therapy sessions, or someone to check in on you just to ask if you were okay, you were considred week or mentally ill. I took my depression as something that wasn’t normal, i wasn’t supposed to feel a heightened sense of dread, worry, pure and utter sadness. I didn’t know at the time why i had those feelings and how i could climb out of the dark ongoing realm that was my life. The feelings i had were so intense, and so powerful, that i contemplated leaving his earth. I thought “I can’t see a theapist people, friends would think I’m weak, they will think I’m crazy. It had gotten so bad that my body was here on earth but my soul had left, my soul changed. I never could comprehend why so many other people in this world  were depressed, how could something like depression intervene with everday life, Could it really stop time? Could it really stop you from living a normal healthy life? Could it effect the way you think? Hell Yes! That definitely was the case for me. The picture you see above was taken on a pretty bad day. I was highly anxious, just had taken my anxiety and depression meds. I figured that i could capture myself in that moment, so if one day when i conquered this sickness i would remember what i felt in that moment. This picture was taken in 2008. I still remember the day, what i ate, what i did, how i felt. I forced a smile to let outsiders know things were perfect.

See, i was good at putting on a facade and potraying perfection, i did it quite well for awhile until i couldnt any more. It started to shiw within my character, and sad enough, my eyes. Loved ones knew something in me had shifted, my shift was infinite. I looked in the mirror and i couldn’t recognize this who i had become. I was full of life, i shined when the sun didn’t, i was bubbly, i was innocent. I saught help and started treatment. My spirt reached a breakthrough with the help of god, prozac, prayer, writing, and persistance. I’m saying this to say if you are ever in a place where you want to harm yourself, if you get to a place where you feel dread, worry, and severe anxiety, talk to someone. You are not alone.

According to NAMI (national alliance of mental illness) “Although anyone can develop a mental health problem, African Americans sometimes experience more severe forms of mental health conditions due to unmet needs and other barriers. According to the Health and Human Services Office of Minority Health, African Americans are 20% more likely to experience serious mental health problems than the general population. Common mental health disorders among African Americans include:

“African Americans are also more likely to experience certain factors that increase the risk for developing a mental health condition:

  • Homelessness. People experiencing homelessness are at a greater risk of developing a mental health condition. African Americans make up 40% of the homeless population.
  • Exposure to violence increases the risk of developing a mental health condition such as depression, anxiety and post-traumatic stress disorder. African American children are more likely to be exposed to violence than other children.In the African American community, many people misunderstand what a mental health condition is and don’t talk about this topic. This lack of knowledge leads many to believe that a mental health condition is a personal weakness or some sort of punishment from God. African Americans may be reluctant to discuss mental health issues and seek treatment because of the shame and stigma associated with such conditions.”Many African Americans also have trouble recognizing the signs and symptoms of mental health conditions, leading to underestimating the effects and impact of mental health conditions. Some may think of depression as “the blues” or something to snap out of. This is not something you can just ignore and sweep under the rug. If you notice that a loved one is not themsleves and you notice a shift, step in, be there, listen, it could be a matter of life or death. If you feel down and need extra support please call  (1800)-662-HELP (4357 you really don’t have to exprrince pain and fear by yourself. I made it through my storm, at days it can be challenging, but I’ve gained the tools and knowledge to manage my major depressive disorder. Don’t let life stop when that light goes out, find another source of light and let it carry you to utter happiness.

A letter To My Unborn

1031261394
sputniknews

 

 

 

Dear Love,

Please don’t be upset with me, i did it for me and daddy. I know it sounds so selfish but i was scared, alone, and had no support. I think about you all the time, i always wonder what you would have looked like? would you have looked like me? would you have looked like your father? would you have those big beautiful brown eyes? or chocolate dark skin like me and daddy. Most nights i dream of you, you come in my dreams in all white, you touch my face with your tiny hand as i am down on my knees, you look at me in my eyes and say “mommy, i’m okay, god is watching me until you get here”, i cry when you walk away and take tiny steps into the white light, i want to hold you, i want to feel you. I’m sorry you had to feel the pain of being ripped apart, it was painful for mommy too, i thought about your tiny brain crushed, you little legs broken, your heart disconnected. I’m sorry i couldn’t protect you, i’m sorry that i didn’t listen to my first mind telling me to keep you.

I loved you from the moment i heard of your presence, but mommy wasn’t ready and daddy was just as lost as i was. I know you heard me crying at night, did you hear me? did you feel me rubbing you? telling you i love you? I can imagine your laugh if i tickled you all over. i can hear your cries from a fall, i can hear a coo and see your bare smile when i make funny faces. I can hear your cries, i can smell you. Can you forgive me? can you forgive me for ending a precious life before it begun? You would have been 10 years old by now, now that i think about it i could have made it work, you coming into this world wasn’t a curse or a burden, but a beautiful intricate gift from god. Mommy got help from your loss, i tried so hard to forget you but you remained in my mind, in my heart. No amount of medication or therapy would keep me from you, it didn’t matter what i did, you were always on my mind, In the morning when i would wake, until the evening when i would close my eyes. At night i pray that when i leave this world i can go straight to heaven to see you,  if you see me in heaven will you recognize me?  Mommy has healed and it took a lot of work on my end to come to terms with aborting you. Now all i can do is hope and pray that i will be blessed with another intricate gift from god, your brother or sister. Even though i never had the chance to meet you i love you like i would if you were here.

 

                           ♥♥♥ Thinking of you daily, love always

                                                                                                                         – Your Mommy

The Healing (my abortion story pt. 4)

At this point in my life i focused on getting mentally better and becoming spiritually  stronger. I was anxious about rachel’s vineyard but i knew that it was what i needed to heal. Being in a relationship was the furthest thing from my mind, i really just wanted to be alone, i wanted to figure out what kind of woman i was going to become after the storm dissipated. My aunt invited me to take a trip to New York city. My anxiety screamed hell no, but my gut told me to go for it. I had never been out of northern california, i had never been on a plane, Shocking right? but i thought what else can i lose? So in 2009 at the end of summer i took my first trip to New York. I enjoyed the trip, it was fun aside from the rude new york people. I was ok, i had no panic attacks, no depression, i was actually able to enjoy my surroundings. Before my new york trip i met a guy on myspace, Did you hear me? myspace, yes, myspace. He seemed really nice so i thought what would be the harm in just talking platonically. We exchanged numbers and we started to talk daily. We even talked while i was discovering new york. This guy was different, he sure in the hell wasn’t andre. He listened and he was consistent. I really liked him. I knew that i had to have “the talk” with him when i returned from new york but that that moment i enjoyed manhattan and harlem. I saw so many people and seen so many beautiful things my senses were occupied with something other than nervousness and fear. I had so many thoughts running through my head about this guy, Would he think that i’m weak? would he think that i’m crazy? is he going to accept my skeletons if we get serious?

When i returned to california i came back a new person. I looked at life differently. Even though i was only in new york for four days i felt free, i felt liberated. I was confident and the anxiety and depression not once visited.  The day that i returned home i agreed to meet this guy in person. We met at a bart station and he rode the train home with me. He was handsome, sweet caring, and very patient. We talked the whole train ride, it was something about him that put me at ease, i was able to be my new self around him. We continued to talk after our first encounter.  We went on dates but i knew that i had to tell him the truth before we went any further.

I was nervous and thought the worst before i told him, but if we were going to get serious he needed to know my truth. One night while we had one of our intellectual conversations i told him. His reaction surprised me. He didn’t judge, he did not criticize, he just listened. From there we went on romantic dates, he would bring me flowers, we would talk and laugh and enjoy eachothers company. I knew he was the one because he watched one of my favorite romantic movies “The notebook”, i don’t think any other guy would have taken a chance. As months went by we grew close, we were connected at the hip, wherever he was, i was. He had turned into my best friend and my man.

As i continued to heal and overcome my depression, i started to feel normal again, i figured the prozac was starting and already had taken its course, working through my bloodstream and making its way to my unbalanced brain. As i started to feel normal i received a call from christine, she let me know that there would be a post abortion retreat and that it would be beneficial if i attended. She gave me details about the retreat and what things were going to take place for my healing, i agreed, but i feared that the new man that was courting me wasn’t going to take to it…………….

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Black Boy

 

tumblr_oir22lphAy1voya57o1_540
Credit: captain america civil war(2016)

Dear Black boy,

I can see your broken, i can feel that you had no one to guide you. Were you missing the man, the king known to be your father? did you hear his voice? did he put his masculine arms around you? did he tell you to stop crying when you fell? did he play ball with you? did he teach you about Malcolm X? Dr. King? Huey p. Newton? I have a feeling he didn’t, i can see you, a little black boy lost in a world full of racism, judgement, and discrimination. When i look at you i don’t see a grown man with facial hair. I don’t see height, or your broad shoulders, or your masculinty and a smile that can open the gates of heaven,  i see a boy, a scared boy, a boy who was forgotten, abused, unloved, and used.

I can tell he wasn’t there to talk to you about a queen, and as in queen i mean your mother, sister, aunt, cousin grandmother great grandmother,  the future mother of your children. He never told you what you needed, what you deserved, how, when, and where to love a woman. Did he talk to you about intimacy between a man and woman? did he teach you to protect yourself? did he teach you to be patient? follow her lead? did he teach you to never ever call a woman  a bitch or a whore? Naw, he didn’t. Now your a boy who has fathered children with women who hold no self-worth. You can barely teach your sons and daughters how to survive, how to  rightfully demand respect from society and the opposite sex, let alone how to have respect for themselves.

Did he teach you to ride a bike? count change? open a bank account? Did he encourage you to study hard? find a job and help your mother with household responsibilities? did he teach you how to tie your shoe or fight for your life when you were getting bullied? did he encourage you to read the bible? hold the door open for women? attend sunday service? Did he sign you up for sports? did he attend your games? was he cheering you on? did he help you study? did he teach you the words of langston hughes, Gil scott Heron, and james baldwin? did he teach you about your people? your ancestors who were brought here on ships, sold into slavery? Did he tell you what they died for? what they fought for?  did he teach you how to drive? Did he teach you to say “yes ma’m and and sir? did he teach you how to tie a tie? Did he hug you? Did he pick you up after a heartbreak? did he listen to your hopes and dreams? but most importantly, did he teach you to comply with the law? No, he didn’t because your jobless, uneducated, lack motivation, scared of you you are and what you might become can become. No, black boy, you’re robbing and stealing,and grinding, for a ticket to sit on that pedestal so you can shout from the top beating on your chest “SEE ME! I’M RIGHT HERE!  No black boy, your laying up making children, not married, cussin women, degrading women, the same woman you came from, THE BLACK WOMAN!

Oh, black boy i’m sorry that your father left you stranded to figure it all out on your own,  i’m sorry black boy that he left you for his own selfish reasons, and now you’re another statistic, a disgrace, another “black man of the system”. I feel for you black boy, but i can also heal with you, carry you, support your goals, listen to your worries, your fears, share your responsibilities, i will help you build our empire.

Black boy ,a wise man once said “Father” only means that you’re taking care of your children that’s what it is to be a father. “Father” doesn’t mean that you’re havin’ some babies. Anybody can have a baby. Havin’ a baby does not make you father. Anybody can go out and get a woman. But not anybody can take care of that woman. There’s another word for it: It’s called ‘responsibility.”    -Malcolm X

What you need to hear black boy is never kneel, look up and Stand, you are a king”.

 

My Abortion Story Pt. 3

The meds that I took daily started to take effect. I started to feel less anxious and more normal, even happier. My mood changed from hopeless to hopeful. I started to live again. My mind was so much more clearer. I read self help books, books on mindfulness and meditation. I felt healthy and fit practicing yoga and Thai chi. I lost weight, I started watching what I was consuming as far as food and liquids. I went to the gym everyday to help me free my mind of anxieties. Meditation was part of my daily routine. I still went in once a week for my counseling sessions but I still felt like there was something that I was missing.

When I took up the offer to stay at my aunt’s house for the weekend  I was able to breathe. I felt at ease with my surroundings. There were no racing thoughts, no worries, no hopelessness. My aunt lived in a beautiful home in the hottest city of the North bay. I would go into her backyard in the am, look at the yard filled with grass, a canopy and a swing and I just breathed. I paid attention to the sky, the way the air smelled, the way the sun hit my face. It was like I was with god himself.  I was at peace, i took advantage of the smells, the wind, the sun. I paid attention to how the cement felt under my feet. My aunt and I talked I opened up in more detail about Andre and the abortion.  One day I had her house to myself and I was surfing the web I decided to look up support after an abortion. The clinic had resources for after abortion but at that time I didn’t think I needed counseling. I got a few numbers and was interested in a retreat strictly built for women who had abortions. Was I ready to open that womb again? It was so nicely stitched shut, it didn’t make sense to remove the stiches, but I had to dig in there to find healing. Was this the cause of my mental downfall? I left that weekend feeling a sense of relief and calm, I finally felt that there was hope.

Once I settled back in at home I decided to call the hotline, I was so nervous and scared I didn’t know what expect. I called and i was connected with the sweetest the sweetest woman. Her voice was calm and she was very attentive. She asked me questions about my abortion and if it had any effects on my life. I told her I’m not sure but I had been recently diagnosed with severe depression and anxiety. She explained that lots of women experience depression and anxiety after an abortion. I felt relieved that I wasn’t the only woman who has experienced depression and anxiety after a traumatic experience such as an abortion. She gave me a number and a website to visit so I could do more research on what this was that I was experiencing. I looked up the website for “Rachel’s vineyard”. I was immediately intrigued. “Rachel’s vineyard a place to go to heal after an abortion”. I thought to myself “wow, this type of place exists”? The other detail that caught my attention was the description of what Rachel’s vineyard was. It was a place of healing, a place where there would be no judgement, a place for all of God’s children to come and ask for forgiveness. “Wow, I need to call this number”.

Was this a legit place? Was it some kind of secret cult? Was it a pro life organization that were going to tell me that I was going to go to hell? I prayed before I called and hoped that I would get the answers I looked for. A woman m an and I started to talk, the woman who was sent from God to help me heal. She explained to me that what I did at the time didn’t define God’s love for me. She didn’t judge, and she didn’t quote scriptures, she listened to my testimony. Christine answered all my questions and she even went out of her way to mail me a packet with more info on the retreat. Before we ended the call she asked “Cecilie do you mind praying with me”? I don’t know what came over me but I started to weep. I knew what I had done was wrong considering my strict Christian background. Not only did i sin by having sex that didn’t take place within marriage, but I had killed a human life that God put there himself. I just knew God was punishing me for killing my baby. Christine prayed with me and at that moment I realized God loved me, he loved me so much, he knew what would take place, he knew the obstacles that would  have to face, anything to get me closer to him, he planned already. God wasn’t punishing me, he was preparing me for abundant blessings that were coming my way. Rachel’s vineyard would be the place where I found healing and the everlasting and unconditional love from my almighty God.………………….

My Abortion Story Pt. 2

After the procedure I purposely looked down to see if I could see remains of my baby, I saw nothing, I know it sounds disturbing but i needed to know that it was done. The nurse helped me to my bed in a recovery room where the other girls were. Some girls laid in their recovery beds crying and some threw up from the meds and probably from the whole ordeal. I felt like a part of me left when my baby was ripped from me, but i had programed my brain to think that this was for the best and relief would sustain me.  I laid for 30 minutes, after the nurse gave me the green light to get dressed and go home, I was prescribed pain meds. My mother was there to pick me up and from there I headed home. My best friend waited at the Bart station, my mom picked her up on the way home. I looked to see if there were any missed calls from Andre, nothing. Once I got home I changed into comfy clothes and took my pain medication. I called Andre and on the first answer he sounded bothered by me calling “where were you”? i asked in tears “man, I will get there when I get there”, he hung up on me. The feeling that I had after the phone call was a feeling I had never experienced in my life. I felt alone, stupid, sad, angry, and lost, If my best friend did not come that weekend I don’t know what I would have done. Andre, I never talked after that, it had been months since we talked again. I convinced myself  the abortion was the right thing to do and that I should feel relieved that I didn’t have to carry that burden alone. Amy Winehouse was my roommate as I recovered those 4 months, her album “back to black” was the soundtrack of my life. I tried to move on with my life and I tried to push the abortion out of my mind, so I wouldn’t have to think about it. Amy helped me with that.

Months later i tried to put the abortion behind me. I worked with children so it was hard to look at them and not think of the life that was inside me. I had no appetite so i lost a good amount of weight, but i thought that’s a good thing at least i didn’t turn to food or other things that could have affected me mentally and physically.

It was a surprise when  my best friend jamie let me know that Andre was looking for me. Jamie dated his friend at the time and she always mentioned that dre would ask about me. When she asked my permission for her to give him my number I was nervous but mostly mad as hell, he had big balls to ask about me after all these months.  nonchalantly i said “Sure, give him my number I have a bone to pick with his ass”. He called me later that night, he claimed he wanted to come see me and that he wanted to apologize for the way things went down between us. I agreed to meet him outside of my apartment building. When he first walked up I felt a blood rush of emotion, anger, love, sadness. “you look good cc”. “thanks” was the only reply that I could mustered up. He spent a half an hour apologizing and the other half hour trying to get into my pants. “Typical dre” is what I thought to myself. He did not get into my pants that night, but he got into something much worse, my heart.

We tried the relationship again for a month things were okay until a girl started to call my phone frequently saying that dre was with her too. I asked him about it and of course he denied it. I spent the night at his house one night and the next morning the same girl who was stalking me and calling me daily was at his door, she came to fight, she came to draw blood. Till this day I don’t even know if she knew I was there I was too busy thinking of a way to escape the apartment he lived in. Andre physically fought this girl and her brothers, I was looking for a way out to run. I didn’t do this, this wasn’t me to fight over a boy. I was scared, I didn’t know what this girl would do once she found out I was there. Andre came back into the house five minutes later with bloody knuckles and scratches on his face, I then asked him to take me home. After that I thought things couldn’t get any worse but sure enough it did. A few days after the debacle dre and I were on the phone, he sounded weird, “cc I have something to tell you, I got my ex pregnant”. Coldness ran through me “she is keeping the baby, so I have a kid on the way”. My world stopped, my heartbeat raced. “I’m so sorry cc I fucked up, but I have to take care of my responsibilities”. “Are you fucking kidding me? So, you got this same girl who has been calling and harassing me pregnant? And you’re saying you have a responsibility”? I cried hard and thought about my child and what made this woman so special that she got to keep hers with his full support. I couldn’t bear talking to him, the thought of him made me sick so I hung up and stopped calling him  I didn’t’ want to be a part of the drama, I could only take so much from dre.

Moving on was hard. I loved dre but I couldn’t be with him. Months went by, my life went on as it should, I started to smoke cigarettes and drink occasionally. I was ready to put all this behind me. On Thanksgiving Day in 2008 things took a turn for the worse. One night I felt like I was dying, my heart was beating out of my chest, i thought i was having a heart attack, at my age that couldn’t be possible. I told my mom to take me to the emergency room. When I got there, I was sure they were going to say heart attack or stroke, it was neither, it was a panic attack. I stayed in the hospital overnight and when I was discharged a nurse gave me a paper describing what panic attacks are and what I can do to help alleviate symptoms. When I arrived home, fear swept through my body, I was scared to be left alone, I feared that I would have another panic attack. Things went down from there. I was anxious all the time, I couldn’t concentrate at work or at home. I felt like I was outside of my body and that my sense of reality was distorted, was I going mad? It came to a place where my symptoms would be so intense that I thought I would lose control and go crazy. I decided to see a therapist to find out what was going on with me. The first visit to see my therapist was uneventful. I Had one hour to explain why I was having these scary panic attacks. I was hoping that she would tell me what was wrong with me. My therapist then referred me to a psychiatrist for meds. I didn’t want to take meds, I didn’t know how my body would react to them, so I declined.

 My anxiety progressed, and the outcome was both anxiety and depression. I wanted to take my life, there was a feeling in me that I couldn’t explain, I can’t even explain it today.  I was hopeless, afraid, sad. I cut off important friendships, loss great friends, I was a recluse.  I turned down invitations, i missed important events in my friends lives, i stopped calling them and would ignore calls that came from them. I was ashamed, i was embarrassed, i didn’t want them to see how weak i had become. The sweet, funny, enthusiastic cecilie that they knew had gone. I considered taking my own life, but after thinking about my mother, if I were to leave this earth her daughter would be no more, and she wouldn’t be the same. I was scared to leave my house, my thoughts ran a mile a minute and I had no one to talk to about it. My mother even noticed that I was not the same. Instead of being a coward and a sinner I turned to the lord when I had suicidal thoughts, I grew up in the church, so it was time for me to ask for god’s forgiveness and mercy. One day I just got on my knees weeping, i started to pray “lord god whatever this is inside me heal me from it, make me stronger”. I prayed so much that getting on my knees was routine. I started reading the bible and getting into the word. I knew that if anyone else wouldn’t be there, I knew Jesus would be there. I reconsidered medication, things had gotten that bad. My psychiatrist prescribed 20 milligrams of Prozac and 40 milligrams of Atarax, after he diagnosed me with severe depression. At this time, I wasn’t sure why the chemicals in my brain had changed, I never once thought that it could have been because of the abortion. My therapist and I talked about the symptoms but we both didn’t know the cause.

I took the Atarax as prescribed, but it just made me sleep, it made me numb and I didn’t like that feeling. My anxiety was at an all-time high, racing thoughts, thoughts of me going crazy, I was scared to be alone, I feared the worst. I had to do something to get relief, so I did the thing that I should have done in the beginning, I went to god, I got on my knees and the tears started to flow “god what is wrong with me? Heal me? I know I’m not perfect, but I’m tired I don’t know if I can take this any longer”. I remember going to my mother in tears, I think she was worried and fearful to see her daughter be this vulnerable, this sad. I asked her to pray with me, and she did. We both got on our knees and she held my hand while I wept uncontrollably, after the prayer she wiped my tears and told me that god would take care of me. From that day I started to read the bible. I was familiar with my religion, to prayer, I grew up in church but sometimes people lose their way and lose sight of what god has planned for their life, so they make their own stories, and that was me. I picked up my grandmother’s bible and started at genesis. Every day I read a chapter and made a point to pray all throughout that day. I took an anxiety class at my local clinic. I started to read up on mindfulness and how to use certain tools for the anxiety, I even took a yoga class on Saturdays, yoga was now apart of my daily routine. I never would have thought that I would be meditating, taking yoga, and reading the bible faithfully, me?  but this was my life, this is what I needed to recover. My mother wanted to know more about anxiety and why it affected me the way it did so she joined me in one of my counseling sessions. She asked “why is my daughter going through this? What causes this”? she asked all the necessary questions a parent would ask about their child mental health and wellbeing. My therapist told my mother “Sometimes people go through stressful situations and trauma, the brain reacts in such a way that our anxiety heightens”.  My mother and i never made the connection of what trauma could have took place. I had a great childhood, I was loved, my father wasn’t in my life, but it didn’t affect me in any kind of way, so what trauma took place?

My aunt who helped raise me worried about my mental state. She had no idea that I was in a deep depression and wanted to take my life. I sat and talked to her, I let her know i wanted to leave this earth, tears ran from her eyes “I had no idea, that it had gotten that bad, maybe I could have done a better job at supporting you”. I knew that there was nothing that she did, she loved me like a daughter. She wanted to see me happy. She suggested that I come visit her for a weekend, so I could get away from the environment that could have caused the trauma. I accepted. I’m glad that I went to visit that weekend, god knew what he was doing, my aunt’s invitation led to how i discovered the root of the anxiety and depression…………

The Beginning (My Abortion Story Part .1)

9a9bbfebbcca73362417de697f341398--positive-vibes-quotes-black-women-art
credit: google/kirz art

The inspiration for me starting a blog was this reason and this one reason only…. I had an abortion. Like many women i suffered from depression and anxiety due to a situation in which i felt i had no say. I’m putting all the bullshit aside, and i’m being completely honest about my abortion story. I have already payed for my sins, i have already gone through the storm, but for myself, i have to expel all the emotions and memories that still reside in me from a decision i made almost 9 years ago. I suffered from anxiety and depression after my experience with abortion. After you read this just keep in mind that many women who have terminated a pregnancy were backed into a corner, they felt like they had no support from family or their significant other. I can honestly say i had neither and that is what contributed to me making the decision i made. Do i regret it? yes, was it wrong? yes, do i still blame myself for not following my heart and mind ,YES! but i want to share my results after having an abortion.

It was 2007 i met Andre through a friend and immediately we hit it off. He was tall, dark, handsome,had a beautiful smile, and masculine. I loved our conversations and when we spent time together it was as if we knew each other for years. We got physical rather quick and i loved  being close to him in that way, i loved the intimacy. Protection was used the first time we were intimate but after that we stopped using protection. I figured i was only with him, i trust him with my body, i know he wouldn’t do anything to hurt me. I did have some anxiety about sexual transmitted diseases. The images of diseased filled vagina’s and penis’s popped into my head from sexual health class that i took my senior year of high school, but i ignored it and trusted him anyway. I didn’t fear pregnancy because i never had consistent cycles so that i wouldn’t risk much. My interpretation of the relationship when i look back now, was strictly physical. We had great sex, but i let our physical encounters make my mind think that  it was something more, i assumed that because i had let him inside me that we were automatically in the serious monogamous relationship. we never went on dates, we never left the comfort of my apartment complex. I had only been to his house once and that was drama filled. The “exchanges” that we had were incredible but i wanted more. He was 21 i was 20, me being young of course i would connect good sex as a relationship right? i was so naive. Dre knew all the right words and the right things to do to me to give him what he came for each time, and that was sex. Even though we didn’t go on dates i just enjoyed being in his space. I believe he loved me but he didn’t now how to love me correctly, not the way i wanted to be. He had his background story and i realised why he couldn’t give himself to me fully let alone another woman. I tried to show him support, and listened when he confided in me about his rough childhood. I promised that whatever he told me i would secure it with my being. I tried to be the supportive “girlfriend” asking him about this feelings and fears, but he would never open up we would just end up having great sex and those things were forgotten. It had to be official if he had met my mom and sister. i thought to myself”oh yea Cecilie we got this in the bag he wouldn’t hurt you he has met your mother, your safe girl”. That was far from the truth.

I noticed a change in dre later on, but then again i thought i could fix him, i thought that i would be the girl he stick with because he had shared so many personal details about his life. In November of 2007 I remember catching the Bart to Fremont at night, on my 21st birthday to go see him. For my birthday he had given me a christmas egg, you know the ones you can buy from rite aid or cvs by the candy isle? i thought “ok, a christmas egg, he has giving me an egg for my birthday.”  (Red Flag) that meant he really didn’t know me at all but i know he meant well. After the egg exchange we had sex and that was the night i got pregnant.

Months later nothing changed between him and i. He would come over we would make small talk and to the bedroom we went. At the end of january in 2008 i was in for a surprise. One day at work there  was a potluck and i had ate something that didn’t agree with me, i figured what i ate was probably spoiled. The day after the potluck i called in sick because i felt really nauseous. I decided to drink a ginger ale to take some of the nausea away but i was still nauseous. I called up my best friend and mentioned to her that i felt sick and that it must have been what i ate the day before. she said to me “um you might be pregnant”, i laughed and said “I don’t think so, i can’t get pregnant i don’t have consistent cycles”, then she laughed and said “girl i think you should take a test”. It didn’t hurt to try. I was certain that it was just the bad tacos that had me feeling sick. That weekend i caught the bart to my best friends house, we went to the Walmart inside of the mall, i bought a test and she insisted that i go to the bathroom quickly to take the test. I thought “this is crazy, i’m not pregnant, we are both  going to feel so stupid once the results say i’m not”.  We went to the bathroom and she followed behind. I chose a stall pee’d on the stick and waited for the negative results. “what does it say”? she asked “can i wipe my ass first”? I replied. After i took care of cleaning myself i pulled up my pants I knew by this time i would see a result. I glanced over to the tissue holder and saw a positive result “oh shit” i thought “this can’t be”. “What does it say!?” my best friend yelled loud enough for the whole mall to hear. I stepped out of the stall “positive”. “girl you lying!”. I handed her the test “look!.” she looked down “oh shit it says positive, maybe you should take the second test” at this time i was i shock, i just knew this wasn’t right. I didn’t have any more pee to test with so i waited until we got back to her house to take another one, and long and behold the results were positive. i couldn’t believe it “what you gone do”? she asked as we sat on her bed “i’m not sure, i have to call Andre”. i called him and let him know that i was pregnant. His reaction didn’t surprise me he said “i want you to be happy, do what your heart tells you”, that wasn’t much help. I called my other best friend and she expressed that i should have the baby. In the end it was up to me to come up with a plan, and fast. Now the challenge was me breaking the news to my mother.

I felt nervous, just as any young girl would before telling her mother that she is knocked up. I told her and the look on her face crushed me “where will the baby sleep? how will you take care of it”? “did you tell dre”? i busted out in tears, she said “having a baby right now is not good for you, or dre”. She then suggested that Andre come over so we could all talk about our options. Of course the first option was abortion. Dre and my mother really leaned against that option, but for me i was hoping he would tell me to keep it. That night we all came to a decision to abort the life that was growing inside me. I knew that i didn’t want that but what other choice did i have? If that would keep dre and i together then i would do it, i wanted to take that risk. Before i could go any further i wanted confirmation with  blood work, inside  i was still hoping that the tests had a glitch and that i really wasn’t pregnant. My co worker at the time knew something was up. she approached me on my lunch and asked what was wrong with me, i remember she walked into the break room with taco bell and the smell of meat at that time made me very sick. “what’s wrong? you look different”. i looked up at her and somehow she knew right away “you’re pregnant”? i nodded. “does the father know”? i nodded “what are you going to do”? she asked “i’m not sure”. Then she says something i will never forget she said “you have so much to offer the world, you’re so young, do you really want to become another statistic? a young black single mother pushing a baby in a stroller”? i looked at her with sadness in my eyes,  i shook my head “no”. “One day it will be the right time you’ll get married and do it the right way but right now do you think you could take care of another human being? is he ready”?.  After i cried she lent a helping hand, and ear, she even drove me to the doctor so i could do blood work . The blood work came back positive and all my fears had been confirmed. Immediately I had to get rid of this “problem”. I received a referral from my primary OBGYN physician, once i told the nurse over the phone that i wanted to terminate the pregnancy, she gave me a number and i called that day to make an appointment. The day of the appointment was nerve racking, Dre didn’t seem to enthusiastic about joining me at the clinic for my consultation, in fact he didn’t answer his phone and he showed up late. The lady took me to a room told me to stay in the room until the video was over, it was watch a video telling me what to expect. I admit i was terrified, but i thought once this is over me and dre will become more closer. After the informative video i did blood work and did an ultrasound. The nurse told me to remove my pants and underwear, i layed on the exam table with my feet in stirups, she put a condom on a wand looking instrument and did a vaginal ultrasound i noticed she  faced the screen away from me. “It looks like your nine weeks”. I tried to look at the screen but it was turned to far. she then removed the instument “You can put on your pants now, i’ll be back”. She printed a photo of the ultrasound and placed it into my file, i peeked inside my file, There it was my “little burrito” that’s  because it looked like a burrito, my eyes started to fill with tears ”oh my baby, i’m so scared, look at you, you’re so small”. The nurse knocked on the door, i hurried and closed my file, wiped my eyes  and she led me to the counselor’s office. The whole time this lady talked all i could think about was the “little burrito” that was growing inside me. I thought ” do i really want this”? a lot of girls my age have babies it’s not the end of the world”. I was interrupted by the counselor “Ms. anderson do you hear me”? i looked up at the councilor “yes”. she asked me if i was sure about my decision i told her yes she then set up the time and date to come in for my procedure. I walked out and saw Andre sitting waiting for me in the waiting room. The walk to the bart station was quiet. He kissed me and promised that he would be there for me on that day. I kissed him back said i love you and caught my train home.

The day after my consultation i let my supervisor know that i would be out friday due to minor surgery, i let my co worker know who was in a way my second supervisor and she said that she would cover for me, i was grateful that she showed me so much support and she made me think of the future.  I was scared, nervous, doubtful,  and felt alone. I didn’t know what to expect. My best friend jamie promised that she would be there when i got home from the clinic  and she was. I called Andre the night before the procedure but he never answered. I couldn’t wait on him though, i had to go through with this alone. That day was so grey, the skies were filled with dark clouds and rain. My mother drove me to the clinic, she dropped me off and told me to call her once i was done. When i walked back into the clinic there were other girls there too with the same look on their faces. They looked terrified, one girl even sat in tears. Once i checked in the nurse called me to the back, i changed into my hospital gown and put a spandex belt around my waist to hold the pad for for after the procedure. I wanted to run, i wanted to keep my baby but dre was i all i could think about. How the fuck did it come to this? how could i have gotten here? what the fuck am i doing? how could i have been so irresponsible? The nurse led me to the operating room, i climbed on the table, my feet rested in stirrups, they put anesthesia in my IV not to make me sleep, but to “relax” me and to make the “procedure” more comfortable. One nurse numbed my cervix, then the male doctor came over explained what he was going to do and promised that it would be over in five minutes. I started to feel the local anesthesia. There were to nurses in the room with me. One nurse in particular sat next to the operating table, she was nice, she asked me what i did for a living and what were my favorite things to do, i knew it was a distractionbut in a way i felt comfort. I started to feel extreme pain, extreme cramps the nurse held my hand and told me to breathe, the cramping became more intense i yelled in agony. Once the cramping subsisded it was done i had aborted my baby, my baby was gone………..

 

Fatherless: How I identified Love

 

tumblr_my88rhP15j1s6mz0eo1_500
Credit: tumblr

By the time I graduated high school  I expected to attend college, and leave my first high school love behind. I moved to another city and I was not prepared for what my high school love had planned for the both of us, so i reevaluated and made the decision to leave.  I went through a tough in transition, I really wanted to step outside of my shell and experience what life could be like without him, my gut told me that it was time to start anew. I applied to a university in the city in which I lived, that didn’t go as planned so I tried Jr college.  I didn’t know what I wanted, or how I was going to get there. Not only was I having trouble figuring out who I was, I was figuring out the male psyche. When I look back I was quite naive, gullible, and just dumb.  I never wanted anything serious since my high school breakup. I wanted to experiment, see what the universe had to offer. I wanted to find out what type of guys I was into, I wanted to find out if the guys I took interest in took interest in me. I met a few suitors but they just weren’t too my liking, there were phone conversations, meet ups, and make out sessions but nothing serious. I was just how do the old folks say? “Hot in the drawers” what 18-year-old girl isn’t? From 18-21 I was looking for something in every guy I encountered but I just couldn’t identify it. You know how they say every fatherless girl looks for their father in the men she chooses? Well I had no idea who my father was , I just knew he was a coward for l leaving me and my older siblings, so I accepted any attention that was brought my way. I identified love as intimacy, sex, a physical connection. I had no idea that love didn’t omit sex. I thought sex was the love. That’s what I thought the first time I had sex, he must love me enough to sleep with me right? He picked me, little old innocent me when he could be pursuing another other young naive girl, he must love me.  I didn’t know what love was, I equated love with sex and lust. I figured if I gave my body, a piece of me away that love would come eventually.

But the love never revealed itself, instead insecurity set in, lack of self-esteem stepped in, Shame and hate filled me, not love. I wasn’t given the tools by my father or any male figure on how to identify love. How could I have known? How was I to know what to look for? Not having my father around set in around my middle 20’s. So I reached out and my father and I started to build a foundation but it still wasn’t enough for me, it lacked substance and meaning. Reconnecting felt rushed. I blamed my father for every heartbreak. I thought “if only my dad was around to comfort me and pick me up after a boy broke my heart I wouldn’t be this broken this gullible”. “Would he defend my honor? Would he dry my tears? Would he say “baby girl daddy’s here I got you”.

black-father-giving-piggy-back-ride
credit: mybrownbaby.com

 

I needed to hear him say it, I wanted to hear him say it, it was necessary. My mother could only convey what she felt about men from a woman’s perspective. She put up her best effort to guide me but the fact of the matter was I needed a real man, I needed a father. After a life altering transition my eyes became open to what men had offered, pain, heartache, and lies. My eyes grew wider with each passing moment, and as they grew wider my heart became cold and dark. My life no longer upheld light and serenity. My life became a place for depression to dwell. Through my depression came clarity, through clarity came self-love, through self love came, forgiveness, and after forgiveness came healing.

There were books that I read that helped me transition. Iyalnla vanzant’s “in the meantime”  and Elizabeth Gilbert’s ” eat pray, and love”.  A quote from Iyanla’s book really stood out she stated “When you need to be loved, you take love wherever you can find it. When you are desperate to be loved, feel love, know love, you seek out what you think love should look like. When you find love, or what you think love is, you will lie, kill, and steal to keep it. But learning about real love comes from within. It cannot be given. It cannot be taken away. It grows from your ability to re-create within yourself, the essence of loving experiences you have had in your life.”  I learned that loving thyself was the first step in healing. I had discard anger and resentment, I had to recreate myself in order to experience love. Our perception of love was distorted and unrealistic. I’m sure many black women who grew up without a father experienced so much worse than I did. I know many black women who have faced the same issues I have faced because we were fatherless. It’s a cycle that needs to stop. Little girls need their daddies in order to love themselves and to reciprocate love to a man. I know that my life experiences would’ve been a different  if I had my father in my life.

 

Why Friendships With Black Women Are Important

source 3
credit: Insecure/www.giphy.com

We all have that ride or die girlfriend who we can call after a one night stand, a break-up, and when we want to get revenge on our ex’s.  We share our most intimate details of how we get down in the bedroom, and what their lover is lacking in the bedroom. We call to talk about shitty co-workers, shitty boyfriends, big dicks, little dicks, and so much more. But nowadays its very rare to find that one girl friend who you can trust and one that will ride or die for you. For me personally it’s hard to build friendships with some black women Everything in this moment in time is about competition, who has the best closure, the best job, more followers on Instagram. I have witnessed black women look at other black with so much hate and distain as they walk past each other.” look at her she think she all dat with them fake ass lashes” “Girrrrl you need to see this bitch walking up in here like she Beyoncé, she is not cute”.

source.gif
credit:Giphy

I admit I have said some of these things and I have heard them to but I had to step back and look at myself and figure out what I didn’t like about myself and what was missing with in me. Why hate on another black woman who is doing her thing? Why not compliment a sista when she looks bad as hell in a dress or pantsuit? just tell her, when you see she is taking care of her business and running her own shit, tell her, when that closure is sewed in tight and the contour is on point TELL HER!!! . We as women have to be secure in our own world and in our own bodies. I’m curious to see how black women in slavery days got along with one another. I would assume they took care of each other because they were all fighting for the same purpose. As woman we also have the right to have other women in our lives to help with emotional and mental stressors. Issa rae from the hit show “Insecure” shared why friendships with between black woman are important . In her interview with  essence magazine she stated “I think for such a long time, I just was not seeing great black female friendships on television. It was constantly about tearing one another down or throwing shade. There are elements of that, but for the most part, black women are essential to my life.” (essence magazine April 2017)

giphy.gif
credit:hboinsecure/www.giphy.com

What happened to tight friendships that were represented on the hit Show “Girlfriends”? “living single”? hell, even my favorite “The Golden Girls”? why is it so hard to connect? What are we showing the younger generation about black women and friendships? let alone relationships in general? Why is it so hard to initiate friendships with women as we get older? We still have the same friends we had and elementary, middle school and high school and that’s great. But what happens when friends grow apart because of life circumstances? a new baby, marriage, busy work schedule, a busy school schedule? why can’t we ignite new friendships? how can we connect?  how can we meet new sista friends without coming into it with so much negativity and apprehension.

images_1491876617457-1491876831337-635856277427340824-2012938571_hug.gif
credit:Giphy

It starts with realizing that as black women we already face many adversities. As black women we are not able to enjoy casual sex without us being called a whore. The job market in some ways are still male dominated.  Black women need to unify, we would come out much better if and much stronger if we participate and make a joint effort. We must not hate on our sistas, we cannot divide, we can’t disconnect. When you spot a single mother who is carrying a baby in one hand and grocery bags in the other, help her, compliment her on what a wonderful job she is doing and strong she must be. If you see a black woman with her own business in your community support her.  So the next time you see a black woman doing her thing, looking good, and holding her head high don’t take it as she is conceited or cocky, but confident. Compliment her, help her become the best woman she can be.  If you’re accepting a compliment give thanks and appreciate the sincerity.  The less hate, the more love we can give to ourselves and to each other.