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…

✍🏼🧝🏻‍♀️

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

✍🏼🧝🏻‍♀️

Your influence murdered my spirit

I once was lost, but now I’m found…

He needed me desperately so. The way a child cries out though grown now, his suffering remains and you said no.

How could I know what was lying in wait? Then you came along, pretending like I mattered, you actually told me I did, I was stupid and took the bait.

She was lost and sinking below, her hand stretching out, please don’t let me fall.

Lock all the doors and close the windows tight. If she comes by to get in, she’ll find it a colder dark night.

You cruel heartless man I let into my life. How dare you make me choose between you and my children causing nothing but strife.

You fooled me every step of your dark way. How I cried and caved in to your insidious hurtfulness.
I was nothing more than your prey.

My spirit was shattered believing the promises that were spoken. It took valuable time and hard lessons to learn I was nothing more than a token.

So much time has passed and been forgotten but not for me, reliving the homicide to my
soul that was broken.

Resurrection takes place a little at a time, restoration precludes all the damage that’s done, repairing the splinters I hold in my hand.  

They all forgave me without a moment to think. Each understood the callous contempt, yet unforgiveness darkens their heart.

I’m what matters most in their world, you were a mere space in time, evoking from me every pound of flesh you could possibly grind.

I dare to be overdramatic, but true. Be gone with you my love, no more. I turned around to see that I’ve finally closed the God damned door…

✍🏼🧝🏻‍♀️

This is how life goes it ebbs and it flows

Matthew 7:6 🙏🏻

What is right or even wrong, it’s all in a song

An angry little girl searching where she fits in
Her teenage self not so gangly yet thin

Boys attracted by her flirtatious smile and blue eyes
What they don’t see are the walls of her disguise

She learned early on how invisible she can be
Colors change with the wind and so could she

Who you need is what she will become
Transformation is how it’s all done

Submission was taught and equally expected
Relinquish all control or she would be rejected

At least then she felt a sense of belonging at last
To whom was the question quickly becoming her past

So much to think about, reflect and discern
A variety of things have helped her to learn

When does it stop, this death sentence lives on
Flip the music on, the answers are in that song

✍🏼🧝🏻‍♀️

RIP to her former self

Human rights validated by the One Who Created us all… 🏳️‍⚧️

The struggle she faces so torn up inside
They knew from the beginning how to divide

This upheaval of emotions riddled in fear
She couldn’t find the words so her secret she held near

As she grew up to question her true value and self
She learned to conform with her feelings on the shelf

The rage burned within while she cried and she screamed
Life was getting harder than she could have dreamed

Since the day she was born it was known only to her
The truth of the matter was more than a blur

Her pain continued to grow with every passing day
Nothing ever felt quite right but how could she stray

Amongst the many battles she had to dread
None of them compare to the one inside her head

The worst part of all that rips at her heart
Is the lack of acceptance that tears her life apart

This road she travels has been worn by others shoes
They’ve trekked long before and still they fight to prove

Get over your fucking selves you judgmental, close minded, ignorant ones
Human race filled with indifferences, these are our daughters and these are our sons

Intolerance will start a war blatantly with hate
At the end of our lives who’ll be the ones standing at the gate

✍🏼🧝🏻‍♀️

The architect of my own nightmare

Trust in You 🙏🏻

Sleep the illusive one why must I chase you down
Trap and wrestle you to the ground

My heart it feels every crack, fracture and break
Isn’t it enough for my unsettled mind to escape

Every bait and switch was a work of art
You had me going right from the start

Today is just another wrecking ball sized blow
These fucking memories simmer and glow

Once twisted inside like tangled up knots
Have now become my everyday thoughts

They beckon and howl like a wolf in the night
Come play it out with me until we get it right

I saddled and rode this mystery out to the end
We lost more than the other was willing to bend

✍🏼🧝🏻‍♀️

I miss loving…………(You)

Our love is at rest, i gave my very best… 💝

He didn’t open her door when she stood beside it, but only for a moment did she wait. She climbed in her seat there beside him, she seemed content and I thought of you…
(Opening my door as I skillfully slid into my space next to you while you pulled out my seatbelt so graciously handing it to me)

They arrived at the restaurant, again she exited the truck, meeting him around the back where they made small talk heading to their destination and
I thought of you…
(I remained still, grinning as you walked over to my side once more, opening my door, offering your hand, I emerged as we made our way)

She stood outside the door looking at the sign, he said, “Allow me” as he grabbed the handle to the door, she stepped inside and
I thought of you…
(My hand never touched a door as long as I was with you)

They were seated, the menus presented and the question, “can I start you off with a drink” and
I thought of you…
(One menu was all that was required, my drink was chosen along with my meal, handled with care)

He picked up the check not a word was exchanged except when she offered to pay her share. He reached for his wallet thanking her, then stating he’d have to give up his man card while handing it off to the server without hesitation and
I thought of you…
(One of our first dates I noticed the price and you thanked me for being thoughtful then assured me it would be alright, the cost wasn’t an issue. I relaxed, feeling special)

She thanked him for treating her to a pleasant evening and wondered what to do next so they left out the door and she casually laced her hand through the bend in his arm and
I thought of you…
(Next to you I felt taken care of, protected and safe, looked after and thought, I felt loved)

There was the truck, the one they open their own doors for, the one they return home in, to the house they reside and
I thought of you…
(Again you pull open the door, buckle me in, my hand on your knee as it slides up your thigh, a peck on the cheek, with a twinkle in my eye. I thank you for a lovely evening, for treating me like your queen, I can hardly wait to get home to show you all the love in my heart)

He flips on the TV and she checks her phone. Divided by some walls, back to their own separate interests and distractions, it’s like the spark and the magic were left somewhere far behind and
I thought of you…
(We barely made inside with our hearts beating deeply, your hands all up in my hair, the door closes quickly as clothes fall to the floor)

She makes her way to the chilly room where she lays her head. At some point he will take his place beside her all cozied up in their bed. She’s fast asleep and he’s quiet while he slips between the sheets and
I thought you…
(We walk together down the darkened hallway to find that safe, familiar place, the warmth of your body comforts me while mine stirs up all your deepest desires)

They closed the door to the wonderful night without another word, he turned off the light, she rolled over, her back turned to him, now he lies there staring at the ceiling asking himself where have you been and
I thought of you…
(Engulfed in your arms I feel your hot breath, it smells like tequila, I smile to myself being pulled in closer, I don’t want to breathe if it means loosening your grip, I exhale, we are immersed, becoming just one, please don’t let me wake. I know you feel loved and I do too) and
I thought of only you…

✍🏼🧝🏻‍♀️

It’s done, it’s over, it’s in the past

Waited time is not wasted… 🕰

She sits alone in her web of hope that once was her destruction yet his to spin. They never understood how she could stay, but stay she did far past the expiration day.

The song played faint in the background. Dance with me please just one time before we go. He looked through her like a ghost reaching behind as she sunk so low.

In the light of day he still posed as her lover but the reality was he was just another thief in the night roaming the streets undercover.

Her thoughts were more clear when he crossed over into her mind. Who was he now and where had he gone? The man she waited and prayed for hoping he would come to find.

It took many years of trials and even an unsavory reason. She watched and she listened, observed and blew wishes when she finally understood, it was only for one long season.

✍🏼🧝🏻‍♀️