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

✍🏼🧝🏻‍♀️

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…

✍🏼🧝🏻‍♀️

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

✍🏼🧝🏻‍♀️

Loose ends

One day, you were there and the next, you were just gone

Abandoned and all alone, no one left to call on the phone

Closure was not a word she had ever heard

She walked through her days like a zombie in a haze

Is this how life is supposed to end, suddenly and tragically with no foreseeable way to mend

It hurts like hell that thing called death, taking her down to what feels like her last breath

It’s happening again that familiar heart wrenching rip, like she is losing her grip

She never gets to tie up those loose ends, they all just disappear, leaving inside gapping wounds and that endless fear

Where does she turn to, with unanswered clues, she is left shattered, understanding the fucking blues

Memories flood her to the very soul, questions erupt as they take their toll

What cowards, who up and leave, every last one of you, open wounds seeping through

The wreckage is smeared and scattered all around, dead or alive you are buried under ground

She will create the stories in her mind, putting the puzzle together one piece at a time

There is no decency left to recover, only freedom from the hurt she works to discover

Run away from all you’ve left behind, including the girl who cannot escape your mind

You’ve all done wrong and there’s nowhere left to hide, it’ll catch up to you as you take it all in stride

Loving those of you who slipped quietly away in the dark, on some ordinary day she will be singing like a lark

You never said goodbye, just left her there holding her heart, leaving her to cry

She revisits the stages of grief, lather, rinse, repeat

Unfinished business leaves grief that doesn’t end

Closure is the gift of maturity that brings comfort to a friend

✍🏻🧖🏼