Happy Mother’s Day

I am grateful. I am blessed. I have walked in my healing. I have purpose and peace.

I used to be a revolutionary. All power to the people. I wanted so bad to help my people. But then when it came time to save me I wanted to know where was my people at to help me?

I am a survivor. Of domestic abuse. Now wait. Lets sit this right here. So many women who love abusive men would like to tell me it was my fault. My mouth shouldn’t have been so big. I shouldn’t have this or that. But I never have the power to stop anyone from using their body to harm another.

That was his self control.

Or lack thereof.

But. As a result of leaving behind a relationship that caused physical, mental and emotional harm I had some setbacks.

Maybe my setbacks were necessary for my comebacks.

I lost everything. But my daughter. She was my rock through it all. She kept me pushing towards greatness. She kept me focused on a better life for us.

There were times I wanted to leave her behind but I couldn’t. I couldnt bare the thought of my baby not seeing me for extended periods of time. Besides where would she go?

My mother passed away September 2008. My family disconnect already being high from the religion that kept us separated had me trying to figure things out on my own.

But maybe not on my own. God had always been there with me. He ordered my steps.

I will never forget the shelter my daughter and I lived in right after walking away from her father. That’s where the healing began. That’s where I learned community amongst women. We would take turns cooking for each other. We had chores. We walked the streets of Evanston as a family. A group of women who were strangers to me in the beginning but friends and sisters at the end.

I made sacrifices. I didn’t have the support system of family and friends to turn to. I had to make a way. Or I had to let the way be made by the steps that had been ordered by the Lord for me.

In losing it all I lost my dreams. Being kicked out of UIC the year I was in the abusive relationship, then turning to care for him while he was unable to fend for himself, and care for a newborn, and work part time, and go to school full time. I damn near lost my mind too.

I thought I made as many good choices as I could.

My daughter’s father was only chosen in my grief induced state of despondency and despair.

I was missing my mother and afraid of living this life alone.

But I lost it all.

Now when I look back I realize maybe it was all Gods plan.

Philippians 3:8 What is more, I consider everything a loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them garbage, that I may gain Christ.

I lost a lot. But I gained this relationship with Christ!

I used to drink my sorrows away. I used to smoke the pain away. I used to sleep with men to rid myself of the numb feeling I had inside. I used to be an attention seeker. I used to do all the things to fill the void of my Lord and Savior.

Listen. I am not a perfect mom. Maybe you don’t feel like you are either. All moms don’t always have the emotional health and support needed to raise a child according to the standards society has given us. But do your best sis.

And when that’s done ask God to show you how to be better.

I am grateful. My mother asked me on her death bed to show her I could do more with my life besides drinking and smoking it away.

Success!

I am a mother. Missing my mother on mothers day. But I plan to shine bright for my diamond like treasure, my daughter.

I am fighting a new cause. Fighting to heal to remove toxicity from me for my daughters sake. I am fighting to heal so I can show my sisters how to.

I am still revolutionary. But how can I change the world when I can’t even change myself. I have to be my best self to give that to others to show them how to be their best as well.

So I do.

As a mother. As a sister. As a friend. As whatever I can give.

And I know you can too!

 

 

I’m not cocky but bet I can make a cock a doodle

I have found out recently. I have a gift.

I never knew I possessed such abilities. I tried it once before in my lifetime. Success. Four years ago. But. The good Lord saw fit to pull me out the mess I was slowly pushing myself back in by allowing a car to hit the back of my work truck. He warned me in a dream. He showed me how resources would be tight by showing me shopping at a second hand store. But i took faith that I would still be financially able to care for myself and my daughter. All the while not being able to indulge in certain proclivities of the flesh because of bulging discs in my back.

I get it. The Lord has been trying to pull me out of sexual sin for a long time.

I will never forget the year I lost my virginity.

I had just left my mothers home and my boo. My mother had me afraid to even kiss a boy explaining I would get herpes by kissing a boy and if I got pregnant I had to go.

I was afraid of my mother. Not too afraid to fight her but definitely afraid of getting pregnant in her home.

Not only was I afraid of that. My teenage bestie’s mother was living with AIDS. I saw how the world shunned her. How the same people that shunned my bestie as a child are the people she cliques with now, shunning me.

Shunned people, shun people.

I digress. Having sex was never on my agenda. Not until marriage. And I didnt really want that hearing all the horror stories from my grandmother’s tales from the woeside.

Besides the boo I had that year, my first real boo. Two movies every Saturday, meet me up at my job drunk as ever boo. Speaking to me in his beautiful lilting Trinidadian accent, licking his lips looking like a West Indian version of LL Cool J. Yes. Boo. That boo. He told me some women you sleep with and some women you marry. So since he wanted to marry me he wasn’t going to sleep with me.

I was still a virgin. It wouldn’t have been that easy.

And then things fell a part. And then the one he was sleeping with took his attention from me. So I went to Chicago. And gave away my 🍊s to a fool I would never 💘 for real.

I didn’t want to be attached and dependent. So I gave it up to someone I could easily walk away from.

That being said. Either I was in a relationship giving away my 🍊s. A couple of randoms. But mostly these situationships. Situationships that never lasted too long. I believe was all the Lord’s doing.

And here he is doing it again.

Pulling me out of sexual sin.

I met a ðŸšđ. A beautiful ðŸšđ. Everything I wanted in a ðŸšđ. Giving me scriptures ðŸšđ. Not letting me touch a door, ðŸšđ. Helping me get to my destination, ðŸšđ. Kind and consideration, ðŸšđ. Who when falling into his sexual sins liked to pull me into them with him and stick things in my face to. Well you know.

And I being one to never turn down a challenge, so good at what I do. Well. The rest. Is. History.

I overheard a married 🚚 telling this man you’re single until you’re a married 💑. Hmmm. I thought. If he was my man. And i overheard this. I would be using my special 🎁 to make sure you’re single while you’re married. I’m just saying. If he was my ðŸšđ. And if you were using your manipulative prowess to get him to change God’s mind in him. I mean. It’s hard enough out here as it is amongst single women. Now i got married women tag teaming for their single friends?

Let God work things out. What is your motive?

So here I am thinking back. I once helped a married man fall in 💘 with me. I never used my 🎁 to make his cock a doodle. But. I know how to please a man. Grandma explained a few things to me. She doesnt condone making 🐓 crow, cock a doodle. So I used the other tricks up my sleeve.

On my behalf. I didn’t find out he was married until the day before my mother’s funeral. I was already in love. He was already my best friend. It had been a year already. Technically he was my man. So when he moved out of their place and into his own space. The seeds I had planted had already produced roots.

He was gone. Maybe it was me. And my tricks. Or maybe it was his perverse desire to taste a snatch while on the rag. And that’s why I tell my guy friends, don’t let her cook nothing for you that’s red or brown or green without being in the kitchen with her. And watching her open every jar. The spiritual warfare is real. But this man wanted the soul connection that came from the choice he made. The choice he begged for.

Another reason to forego marriage watching him and his red splattered shirt leave my dorm room.

There were so many reasons to be thankful for what the Lord kept me from and to whom much is given much is required.

I made an oath out loud at the end of a poem that I was awaiting marriage.

But everytime I try to do what’s right what is wrong is right there. Is this the thorn that will keep me on my face before the Lord?

So here I am. Making 🐓s crow cock a doodle. Do. Because of being asked and being eager to please. I have never. Not like that. Not on repeat, ever.

But one time. Long ago, okay maybe not in four years. I was never really as promiscuous as I made myself out to be in that poem.

It’s just. If you are having any sexual encounter outside of marriage from my former Jehovah’s Witness standpoint that was promiscuity. But people out here real live having sex with new partners daily. Weekly. monthly. gasp.

I go years without sexual encounters. And not to compare when I fall, after two to three years of celibacy I believe the devil’s lying words calling me a whore.

Oh the horror.

I hope y’all getting tested out here.

The truth of it all is maybe I dont like men that much. They have caused too much pain around me. But don’t 👏 for me and the lesbian lifestyle I can’t say I put down because I never picked it up because I loved Jesus too much to make that choice.

I never kissed a girl. Had a wifey that could’ve let me try. But I always figured at least with this man maybe we can get married and make some babies.

I am not bashing your lifestyle. Just acknowledging a choice I had but chose not to make. A love so deep for my savior who you may not know and that’s alright too.

But here I am with another struggle. Making 🐓s crow cock a doodle. Do. Making me all too confident and cocky in this newfound ability. I never been a prostitute or a call girl either but I am finding out all this struggle I have right now I wouldn’t have at all.

A rich white man sat in the back of my car during his lyft ride and as I explained to him the ways I treated this last boo of mine, he wondered what more could a man want.

Exactly.

Any other man would be thankful. But I always choose the insecure that are more interested in what others think about how they think they feel. Than actually feeling how they want to feel. So they choose based on success and aesthetic as opposed to how a 🚚 makes him feel as a ðŸšđ.

My 👎. Thought he was different. And I thought my actions would cause me to be chosen.

Instead I’m out here 🚎 stressed to the max about a man who keeps pulling me into his sexual sins with him and has no good intentions towards me. He just want to have fun. I’m supposed to be a good time 👧, no questions asked. Just make him geel good and relaxed and have no responsibility towards me.

He really don’t mean me no good.

Listen. My last time should’ve been my last time. Now I pray my last time is my last time.

I don’t want no 🐓 crowing for me.

Cock a doodle. Don’t.

I want a man of God that sees me as a woman of God no matter how hard it is for me to fight my sinful nature. That man will protect me from that nature instead of trying to push me and make me fall into it. And if I fall, he will be my Hosea to help me through the mess calling me out of my sinful nature to Boaz me and make a name for my child and children to be.

Ladies. 🚚. We don’t have to settle for the man who will willfully watch us fall and not flick a wrist to try and catch us. There is a man. He is waiting for us to take notice. He may not have all the flashy titles, accolades, life accomplishments. But what he has is a desire to see Gods will be done on earth and in us.

I used to be a mess. Struggling to overcome my messy states. And desiring not to go back from whence I came. I am still a mess. I just know how to acknowledge a Savior whose one desire is to present me and my mess to His Father by His grace which is sufficient for my broken place and inevitable falls.

I know. There is someone out there patiently waiting on me to get up. I applaud you. I hope I recognize you soon.