Hush baby girl

Enmeshment no longer 💔

Remember not to forget
That sweet sound of instant regret

The war rages from the pit
Ignited now from the remorse of it

No bitterness in the voice you don’t wear
Love rings through if you listen you will hear

Rise up and shine
Gods Word is truly divine

Apart blossoms growth
Togetherness restricts the throat

Let go and be free
Unshackle the cuffs allowed to flee

A simple hello a painful goodbye
Try to the death no more tears left to cry

✍🏼🧝🏻‍♀️

The empath and a narcissist, the perfect storm of destruction

🔥 💣

One day you will;

  • Squeeze the toothpaste in the middle of the tube
  • Put a wrong seasoning on his steak
  • Question his communication/sexting with that other female
  • Stack the entire wood pile and it will be wrong
  • Report any male interaction (which is not allowed anyhow) inaccurately
  • Have your own thought or unwelcomed opinion
  • Ask permission to help your child, be told no and having it tear you two
  • Speak to anyone in public while by his side without permission first
  • Take initiative and always get it wrong
  • Not have all your thoughts gathered prior to asking him a simple question in the form of a request
  • Make any decisions without asking him first
  • Think you can use the bathroom without asking first
  • Forget to bring the lint brush to your inspection
  • Wear something/everything to please him
  • Speak casually about nothing in particular
  • Have emotions about something
  • Have feelings about anything
  • Provide self care that doesn’t suit him
  • Rest when there are chores to attend to
  • Do anything that might negatively affect him
  • The word no will be removed from your vocabulary then if there’s any implication of a pushback, and there will be and it will torment you that he has the last word and final say in everything pertaining to you

and when you do…

As I warn you of his darkest secrets, I can feel his hand around my neck, pulling my hair back with the other while he leads me to the bed where I would find myself bound face down, ankles tied to a dowel, rear end arched in the air, naked and exposed, completely at his mercy where he would begin administering his correction with corporal punishment by means of a cane, all the while asking why you did what you did, telling you to count down every painful swat as the lacerations trickle red fluid and you will weep and you will sob and you will be terrified to stay and tormented to leave and you will wonder if he means it when he says, I love my good little girl…so you stay, broken and defeated only to fall asleep and question… it all

You will wake up one day very soon, consumed with anxiety while confusion ensues and fear will rule your world and he will revel as you wriggle. He will coerce and convince you that you have a masochistic little girl deep down inside just to feed his sadistic appetite. He will take this as far as possible, insidiously it will overtake your world and then you will find it near impossible to escape as the pathways of your brain become trampled. You begin questioning yourself, believing his words and then you will disappear inside your mind, lost to yourself and the world you once knew.

He will invest in you in ways that make only him happy, so long as you worship and serve solely him and you don’t disrupt his intentions and goals to use you, possess and keep you for his property to use at his disposal, that way he can destroy you and you won’t know what’s coming.

You will unintentionally cross him, guaranteed, and he will call it catastrophic. The dismissals of you will begin. Each and every time he discards you, will be more painful the the last and he will do this, time and time again, until you become wise to him, then and only then will he begin his sick psychotic cycle again and every time he summons you back will be worse than the time before and this will become your bond of trauma, your life and none of it will be real, except his sickness of narcissistic abuse.

You will find yourself blasting My Immortal, singing it loudly and passionately to his absent self hoping he would feel, something, anything, as if he ever cared one single ounce for you, because he didn’t. He can’t. He’s numb.

He despised me using my voice in the end, unveiling his true ways and that truth is, I loved a malignant, sociopathic, covert narcissistic person for 9 years. One driven by his own pain and agony as the wretched demonic attachments linger and strangle his heart further.

I was his main fuel supply for his every erotic, sadistic thought and act, his deepest devotion only to his manipulation and domination. My fear was his oxygen, his control was my nemesis, destruction and demise. For any other on his radar, close to being in his clutches, entrapped by this ongoing calculated mode, he will assuredly lure you in as his next victim and flying monkey. Sucked in to perform his cowardly dirty work for him, beware. These are his only means of controlling what is the only thing that ever mattered to him and is now uncontrollable, and that my darling, is me.

✍🏼🧖🏼‍♀️

The day I stopped fighting the battle is the day I won the war

I’ve rehearsed every line practiced in my sleep
Exactly what I’ll say just to find some peace

The day is drawing near another rabbit hole I slid
All because of your undoing it is time to close the lid

My light was dimmed not even a small spark
These gloves are swinging punching in the dark

Mystified in misery anger fluid and abound
Not one more fight left crashing to the ground

Standing tall before my eyes wiping away the tears
Finding it hard to believe I wasted so many years

Pausing only a brief moment in this singular display of pride
I raised my hands up in the air taking it all in stride

My flesh for you is no longer I take it all back
No human should suffer the likes of your own lack

And with a deep breath I could never quite swallow
I took my first step and chose not to follow

✍🏼🧝🏻‍♀️

Possessive kind of love

He walked out of the mini mart to pump the gas. They weren’t married, not yet. Had she been more aware, who knows? He was noticing a man paying attention to her and it angered him. He became enraged at her, mumbled some foul words as he got behind the wheel and sped off, as if her beauty that attracted men was her fault, or a curse. This would become her norm, his insecurities that devoured him and she was his obsession.

Paranoia…

The engagement happened as she imagined. Her regret was sharing the fantasy of what it looked like and he replicated it like a script. His lack of originality disappointed her and this would continue throughout their marriage. Years passed by as their growing family blessed her and filled her heart and fed the emptiness, while he spiraled into the darkness unable to manage his jealousy, he began to demean her.

Stuck…

Tainted by his weaknesses she would seek attention that didn’t make her skin crawl and even welcome the kindness of strangers, but she remained faithful in body. His control was killing her and eventually she revolted, acting upon her impulses she thought would take her away from the insanity, but it only made things worse.

Disrespect…

She was a mother first and a woman with needs second. She could no longer ignore her desire to feel special, wanted and yearned for. Her affair she was told would be considered retaliatory. A lady’s innate need for protection and be given provision for his object of affection became clouded by that deep power of possession. He began to oppress her femininity solely for himself. Suspicious of her every move, she knew of his prior infidelities, despised his addictions and loathed the sight of him.

Severed…

Five years would pass. He walked into her experience, self proclaimed he was damaged goods, but she just smiled. The discarding began early on, only after his love bombing and idealizing of her cemented her heart with his. The insidious cycle of his abuse took her deep inside herself. Hiding in the depths of her own bewilderment and confusion, she knew he had taken possession of her.

Blindsided…

Trapped again under another’s control, she felt the demise, the assassination of her character, her soul at large, spirit on the run, how would she break free of this bondage? Too frightened to leave and terrified to stay, she found solace in her voiceless existence.

Shattered…

Bruised by his marks of ownership, ashamed for her lack of strength, value and self worth, she began to examine her life, asking herself why she couldn’t escape the torment of the ties that bound her, until the night she did.

Freedom…

Shame no longer has a place to hide

She is no ones possession of love

✍🏼🧝🏻‍♀️

Her path of authenticity

She thanked her profusely for never following through with her suicidal thoughts. She couldn’t bring herself to ask if there were actual attempts. She just let her brain assume so, but prayed there weren’t and won’t be anymore.
Fear…

These two are so freakishly alike it’s a beautiful harmonious connection. They’ve shared those thoughts as if these were good bonding moments. Really what it says is, “I know better than anyone, and understand your heavy heart, the devastating pain and deepest hurts you’re feeling”. Her mama couldn’t possibly know how she felt exactly, but the agony resonated. The feelings of complete despair and just a desire for the pain to stop. Yeah, that she gets.
Confusion…

Mama sits with her, she’s learning to listen, really hear her child’s anguish, obstacles, fears and all the past that floods her head and it all pours out. Sometimes her words are accompanied with anger and outbursts still, almost always with tears and probably for a long while still with confusion of what to do next. “Take it slow, but definitely at your pace”, she encourages her.
Processing…

Let her just vomit her words so the poison is extracted. “It’s ok”, she tells her, “I can hold it for you sweetie, I can take it”. Mama knows her frustration isn’t about her necessarily. She can be her sounding board, but not her punching bag or doormat. She’s learned that part of detachment pretty well. It’s not without difficulty when it’s your own child.
Unconditional…

Ever since she was 12 her favorite expression was, “I got this mom”. And you know, she always has. Mama smiles intently at her, “I know baby, but it’s ok not to have it all figured out right here right now. Give time time and let things come to you naturally when you can. Forcing solutions can be frustrating as hell, as can sitting still, I know”.
Wisdom…

Their talks are more frequent now and her mama is grateful for the relief she sees in her child’s face more often, now and then, here and there. This is only the beginning of all the transitions ahead, yet the only thing that ever matters to her mama is her children’s happiness, contentment and feeling loved, all of them.
Closeness…

She gave birth to her and her brothers, she has them all on borrowed time and she knows this too well. Time is fleeting and life is precious. How quickly it can disappear, how fragile it actually is. Guilt consumes her some days. The “if only’s” play out in her head and she cries. Sadness overwhelms her at times and she makes time to call her child just to say I love you. She can’t seem to hug her tight enough when she sees her. Never again will she ever feel her mama’s absence, nor will her brothers.
Available…

The best path to travel 👆🏼

She thinks they still need her as they always have, but really it’s mama who’s needing them more.
Present…

✍🏼🧝🏻‍♀️

An expression of genuine love

Always…💖

He was two, his vocabulary off the charts. A beautiful little child, expressive with a smile that sparked her mama’s heart, yet in the same breath, an unexplainable sadness about him. The frustrations were more frequent and the ability to comfort and soothe him were becoming increasingly difficult. At times he was inconsolable.

He was the middle child with a brother on either side. While the games they played were rough and tumble, he never much enjoyed them. As he grew, so did his sensitivity level. Mama became increasingly concerned. She began to wonder if her sweet little one needed therapy, for a toddler, a preschooler and eventually an adolescent? She was tormented and torn by his unexplainable agony, but this paled in comparison to what her child was dealing with, severe emotional pain, trauma, inner turmoil and self abuse with increasing suicidal tendencies.

She blamed the father of their three children. After all, he was the more broken one, the one who drank too much and often didn’t come home. Of course this child felt the tension and abandonment repeatedly. She missed the clues, they were so blatant, but only in retrospect.

Guilt washed over her, protect her babies from suffering was her obsession. Her focus had become tunneled, her energy consumed by what he was and was not doing for her, for them. Divorce became inevitable and so it came.

These three were the center of mama’s universe. Her sole purpose for being and now, she was all they had. With two tweens and a teen, they embarked with a fresh start, but it was becoming increasingly more challenging.

They were finding their footing, though mama was very strict, she was highly encouraging and supportive of their individuality. This same child seemed more devastated with every passing year, constantly testing her patience, he was heightened by his emotions, defiant yet fragile, sensitive and loving, with such rage and anger. He had become hell bent on breaking out and fighting for independence. Life was hard at times, but they were a team, the four of them. They always found their way, together.

Mama taught them about choices, they were theirs to make, but to know, the consequences also belonged to them, regardless, so try to choose wisely.

Her then 16 year old came home one day, his girlfriend beside him to announce they were having a baby. Six weeks after they graduated high school, a beautiful baby girl blessed all our lives, drawing them even closer as a family. This precious little girl was the joy that his mama thought was beginning to ground him, bring him a new purpose and a reason for living a wonderful life. Though it made a new set of challenges and difficulties, he took his role as a daddy very seriously and still does.

By age 27, this amazing person found a new sense of courage. A brave stand that would allow him the freedom to get very real and honest with himself after a lifetime of denying his true identity. The words he braced mama for, the ones that took four hours that night to find the courage to speak, four hours and nearly 27 years. With tears of relief streaming down his eyes, he blurted them out, “Mom, I’m a woman.”

And her mama sat there just listening to the words as they washed over her. A smile emerged from her lips, while a single tear rolled down her cheek and a sigh of relief escaped her breath. In that moment, “I love you sweetie” was all her child needed to hear as she herself melted for the acceptance from the woman who raised her…

✍🏼🧝🏻‍♀️

Identity vs Sex

Sex describes the biological sex a person was assigned at birth. It’s based on biological characteristics of maleness or femaleness as indicated by chromosomes, gonads, hormones and genitals.

Gender identity is a component of gender that describes a person’s psychological sense of their gender.

Seems fairly straightforward. So why the confusion? I’m going with, fears, doubts, unwillingness to be educated and the only real “choice” surrounding this hot topic is being open minded. Instead they face the closed mindedness and ignorance, uneducated, uninformed, prejudice, homophobic, gender phobic, stubbornness and whole lot of uncomfortableness for truth in their daily lives. They fight battles they shouldn’t have to, struggles, obstinacy and cruelty as if they aren’t human with all the same basic rights of equality, peace, love and respect every person deserves.

It’s common for people to confuse sex, gender, and gender identity. But they’re actually all different things.

  • Sex is a label — male or female — that you’re assigned by a doctor at birth based on the genitals you’re born with and the chromosomes you have. It goes on your birth certificate.
  • Gender is much more complex: It’s a social and legal status, and set of expectations from society, about behaviors, characteristics, and thoughts. Each culture has standards about the way that people should behave based on their gender. This is also generally male or female. But instead of being about body parts, it’s more about how you’re expected to act, because of your sex.
  • Gender identity is how you feel inside and how you express your gender through clothing, behavior, and personal appearance. It’s a feeling that begins very early in life. https://www.plannedparenthood.org/learn/gender-identity/sex-gender-identity

This topic has been created to be an issue for many generations now when the fact is, it simply needs to be understood as truth for humans. Changing minds could be the goal, but really it is acceptance and the ability to evolve.

Rarely do people like to be told they’re wrong, but if you think gender identity is a choice, you’d be incorrect.

Live and let live. Why do I even have to say that?

tbc…

✍🏼🧝🏻‍♀️

Don’t live like the sky is falling

When will the other shoe drop I used to wonder. It always did. I’d sit and wait and impatiently ponder.

Would she come home drunk yet again? Better prepare supper just in case, either way I wasn’t going to win.

I was to you the brightest shining star. Your precious baby girl, but you let things get too far.

It wasn’t really your fault for my undoing. Somewhere along the line you lost your footing.

Could I simply walk to kitchen without him peering? I’d try to sneak by and she would catch you leering.

What was my crime for being a young teenaged girl? You were a twisted man getting a cheap sick thrill.

Work harder to be invisible from the attention, maybe it would stop. Such a fucking nightmare waiting for the other shoe to drop.

✍🏼🧝🏻‍♀️

Relearning how to breathe

Taking it slow, one breath at a time🌬🐢

My assignment she gave me, a grief letter with instructions what to do
Write it out on paper like somehow that will help me get over you

She hears my heart and knows I’ve been drifting awhile
Angrily I told her, please help me to stop obsessing so I can once again find my smile

The opener would say, no one ever fought for me, but I never stopped swinging, fighting for that love
A broken little girl who just desired to be wanted and cherished simply for who I was

I know my daddy loves me, the 20 times I saw him he told me this as so
You reminded me of the same, in fact the words went like this, “I said that I love you, once was enough for you to know”

All these years I’ve been working on my insides, mending what needs fixing, soothing what needs comfort, fighting for what ought to be freely given
I can see it in the distance, how life is supposed to go and I am choosing the path that shows me what it’s like to be living

Coulda shoulda woulda such a tormented little game
I’ll start to leave those phrases out, the ones which lay forth all the blame

Grief is like a party for us who show up to play the part
But really for me, all it does is remind me of my hurting, fractured heart

The conclusion might read something along these blurred lines and such
We are all a little flawed, imperfect little humans, but for me, I don’t ask for much

I can articulate my pain, sadness and struggles better than most
But for you all, no no, pour another round, raise your glass high to give yourself a toast

Thank God for my journey and path where it has led
I lay myself down at night, taking it all in as I curl up in my bed

I pray for the lost, the weary and weak
For those who still suffer looking at life as it were bleak

Each and every one who has taken something from me
I am being restored by grace and honor and even with a little more dignity

✍🏼🧝🏻‍♀️