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Hi- What this Blog is About

Welcome to my blog. Thank you for reading.

I’m sure that many of you are asking the same questions that I have asked at times, ” Who are you and why should I read your blog???”

I’m just a woman trying to learn how to live the life of my dreams, and I’m aware that after reading my writings you might think I’m arrogant, or silly, or just downright stupid. For a long time, the thought of not being accepted has stopped me from doing the one thing that I love to do most: write.

You know what I realized, though? One day I’m going to die. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe ninety years from now. And nothing anyone thought about anything I did will matter. What will matter is whether I lived my life doing what I thought was best.

So I think it’s best that I write this blog…

Where This Comes From

In about January 2010, after yet another break-up with a man I thought I was going to marry,  I had a major breakdown. Nothing in my life made sense any more. I didn’t know what to do or where to go for help. I was crying every day. Over something. Over nothing… I felt like I was just floating in the middle of a vast ocean.

I really don’t know how I made it through that time, but about a year later,  in January 2011, I realized that I had made it through the hardest year of my life without dying and so I decided that it might be worth the effort to learn how not to cry every day, since I was gonna be here for a while.

I told a good friend of mine that I was going to do a self-experiment with becoming un-depressed, and he suggested that I write about it while I’m going through it, noting that most people forget what it was like over here when they get to the other side of happy. Sounded good to me, so for a while I did that. I wrote my friend a journal-esque entry every day about my adventures in not crying. That worked out at first, but then it didn’t. So I stopped. In the meantime I learned some things…

We write in our journals and hide them in the deepest, darkest places, closets, drawers, even under our beds, pretending all the while that we don’t want anyone to read them, when truly it is the only thing we really want. For someone to care. For someone to clean out the drawers and find out who we really are…

Why This Comes

My hope for this blog is that it will help. Both you and I. I think the world will be a better place when people can be honest about who they are and get over this notion that we have to be ashamed of the struggles we have been through. We’ve all had issues and oftentimes, our struggles are the greatest catalysts for our forward transformations.

It makes me happy to share my life with others and feel connected to people, and, since I mostly eat dinner by myself these days, I hope that I can come home and tell you how I’m doing.  Your interest helps me to be accountable for continuing on an authentic path of integrity …

Structure

This blog started out with two categories, but has since evolved to many sections.  It starts with “How Not to Cry Every Day Then”, which are the original writings I sent to my friend when I embarked on this adventure in January 2011, and  “How Not to Cry Every Day and then Some”, which are written in real-time. It then continues on to “How to Live With Integrity” “How to Blossom” and on. The topics change as major shifts are made in my life and the current topic is “The Initiation”.

It is organized by days. Although the most current blog is on the top of the page, the story begins with Day 1, and I invite you to read whatever interests you. I started off writing an entry every day, but I have stopped crying every day a while ago, so now I just write when I am inspired, but they are still numbered by days. Every blog heading is titled with something I learned on that particular day, and they are in order from Day 1 until Day…

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There is a place in the in between. The space between a thought and an action. The space where you know that the thought you just thought will come to pass. Insha’ Allah this is going to be good…

Day 553 – Loop Ends (Be Good To Yourself)

Y’all. I wrote this whole long post for the first time in a long time, and then it all got deleted. I talked about letting Grace find you, being good to yourself, and Loving yourself like you would Love yourself if you were your own child. And not being fixated on issues with others. Being all right with having a good life even if people didn’t like you or forgive you or approve you or even if people never said sorry or made amends or acknowledged your pain.

We have been prisoners. No judgement. But we have been prisoners. Today, for the first time in weeks, I am off the bed and productive. I’m using my imagination to imagine what it would feel like if Grace found me. How would it feel to just not hurt anymore. I know there are so many good things I have not experienced, but would I allow for the possibility of experiencing something good? Could I choose to practice something good.

I also made an announcement. The days of being dominated by negative emotion are over. Finally. Now. Today. The days of pushing away myself and not accepting myself and living for the approval of others is over. Now. Today. Not in a mean way. Not in a me against the world way. But in a committed way. Mainly to forgive myself and be good to my own sweet soul. And to treat myself as if I was my own child, with Love and Kindness. At some point I’ll treat others that way, too. But start with myself. I’ve needed it for far too long. Build an unshakeable foundation of inner integrity and well-being.

And be good to yourself, OK? This is so not as deep and raw as what I originally wrote, but it’s time to go now and face this world. I ask you, God, to help me as I am finally ending this loop. Cutting this chord and breaking free.

Ameen.

Day 553

Loop Ends (Be Good To Yourself)

Day 552 – Something’s Got To Give

Hey. I’ve been sitting here trying to figure out what to do with this day. So many things pulling for attention. Part of me wants to hide forever. Throw in the towel. I am tired of this world. My beauty has been a curse. My gifts and talents have been a curse. My love has been a curse. They only make people want to take from me and resent me when I don’t give what is wanted of me. I do not get to paint my toenails yellow and put shea butter on them without someone I love feeling jealous or someone I don’t want feeling angry with me and withholding because I won’t be with them and let them touch said feet. I don’t get to have my skillset without everyone in my life feeling like I should use my skills for their agendas without having fulfilled my own agendas for myself. I don’t get to love without others feeling like my love is only for them and I don’t need any true love in return. And getting angry and hurt if I dare seek love for me. I have hurting hurting hurting. Probably hurting for a very long time, but feeling it deeply these past few months. Crying every day. Feeling trapped and stunted in my life. Not really knowing how to solve problems. Not really wanting to face problems because all answers seemed to lead to pain and more pain. But the problems are not going anywhere. They are just compounding. My WhatsApp is buzzing alerting me I have messages. It is only people wanting stuff from me. Stuff that has nothing in it that’s good for me. I’ve retreated into numbness and apathy. It is easier than feeling the pain of feeling so un-loved and feeling so used. Something funny? The nicest person in my life right now is the last person I ever would have guessed. My brother. I never realized how Loving my brother was, but that is another story. He’s nice to me. He treats me with respect. He helps me without me having to ask. He sees me without me having to tell him things… I am grateful for that small Grace, Allah. I want to to dump. Sorry, this might not be a motivational post. I need to talk to someone. Someone who understands. Someone who sees me as good. I want to be right. I want to be seen as good. I want to be understood… What happened, you ask? So much has happened at one time. But family stuff mostly. Situation(s): Where to start? Family. Sisters. I went overseas. To heal the world. The world was broken and full of shit. I guess that’s part of the heal the world premise. You’re going into broken stuff. Moana stuff. Demons throwing fireballs at you. I didn’t factor that whole part into my overseas ambitions. The demons throwing fireballs part. And the fact that you might get hit by fire. And the fact that it hurts and might kill you. And the fact that most people will not understand the depths of your pain or sacrifice because they have not faced off with demons throwing fireballs that almost kill them. But anyway. That happened. I went overseas. To start a relatively small venture. Some people didn’t like it. They wanted the land I was using. They were jealous because I did what they had wanted to do but couldn’t. There was much backstabbing, betrayal, etc. It was a lifestyle. Men wanted me. Not because they wanted to give me anything. Because I was a possible meal ticket. Possible sex ticket. Possible way out of the land of fireballs. My grandma had died. I knew her life was in danger but nobody listened to me. And six days later she died. I was sad that I couldn’t save her. Nobody wanted to really know what happened to her, at least nobody demonstrated it through action. They didn’t want an autopsy. They didn’t want to videotape conversations. They didn’t want to press charges or go to police to investigate. They didn’t, through action, show interest in knowing shit. The person whom I suspect was responsible for my grandma’s death is a family member. I suspect he wanted her dead because he wanted her house. Shortly after my grandma’s death, my mom had the audacity to say she was thinking of giving the house to said person – no investigation needed, no autopsy, no nothing. Because this person was family. I realize I was involved in a looney bin tale. Maybe I was part of the loons, too. But I just couldn’t sit by and let such a grave injustice happen. I loved my grandma. I hadn’t spent much time with her, but in the small time I spent, I loved her so much. She was mean as hell when she wanted to be, but just as sweet as she was mean. She would lay her head on your lap or let you lay your head on hers and hold your hand and tell you stories about life and joke with you. She was deeply loving. And beautiful. She had beautiful hands. And she wasn’t scared of shit. And I couldn’t imagine what really happened to her during her final dying hours. But moreso, if she was murdered, I couldn’t imagine giving up her house to the person who was responsible for her murder. I went overseas. I also had a farm there. I had started the farm with my mom. I loved working with my mom. Our bond. We fought over a lot of things. I almost died and was deeply sad after realize the nature of my relationship with mom. I threw a bottle at the wall at one point and then our relationship shifted. Somehow, my mom and I came to a place of genuine Love and respect. I don’t have to bend my back when I’m around her anymore. I Love her deeply and can be myself with her. It’s been a dream of a lifetime. And she loves me, too. But I knew that after grandma died, everything would have changed. My mom’s reason for being overseas was to take care of my grandma. She may not want to be there after grandma’s death. I may not want to be there without mom. I didn’t know. I really loved working with my mom. She’s a gem of a human being. Don’t get me wrong, she’s got a million issues, but having her on your team in whatever is such a Blessing. Because at the core, she really really Loves you and wants you to win, and that takes precedence over all issues. That’s good enough for me. So, situation. I went overseas. Was there for months. Farm lived. Decided to keep going with it. Joined a film program. Learned about filmmaking overseas. Worked on a script that I had started in the states that had been getting traction. I was working on a rewrite. One of my sisters was helping to sponsor my trip and I had also gotten some money from a grant I had written. And I had a little bit of passive income that was coming in from the states. So that was carrying me. That sis had a project that she was starting in Africa and she wanted me to shoot some videos for her and connect with some characters – I’ll just call them actors – to be in her project. A shot a video and connected with the actors. Put up ads. Made phone calls. Had meetings. A lot happened. Maybe I’ll explain in another blog. But it was time to come home. I don’t even know why I came home. My mom was worried. Other sibs wanted help with stuff. I wasn’t feeling one way or the other about coming home. With all the drama overseas, my life there was a bit better than here, because I was living on my own terms and I wasn’t lonely. The people in my life in America just wanted me back because they wanted stuff from me, and I wasn’t really feeling it… My creative work had gotten some traction, and I had planned to come back to the states, put all my energy into selling the script that had gotten traction, get myself right so that I could finally get a man, and prep for the harvest of my farm before having to go back overseas in the fall to harvest. So, here’s the situation. My sis, who had sponsored me and has also been supportive of other things over the years asked if I could go overseas in early fall to essentially lead the production of her project. She didn’t say lead the production of her project, but that’s how I saw it, because I am the only one on our team who speaks the language of the country and knows how to produce. Having just been in a film program in that country, I know that working there on a film project is a full-time commitment. Also, having worked with the people on my sister’s team before, I know that they are all type A overachiever types and they will be working on the project nonstop from the moment they talk about it. Which means, if I lead them, I will be working on the project nonstop from the moment they talk about it. Which means I will not have the time or mental space to finish my script, get a man and/or prep for my farm harvest correctly, ‘cus I’d be busy with pre-prep for a whole other brand new project. In April or so, I told my sis that I wanted to support her on project and could be more involved at a later time, but for the time being, I couldn’t commit to coming back overseas for her project in early fall because I had these other priorities which I just spelled out and I didn’t want to commit to anything else which might force me to forego my other priorities before they had come to fruition. And my things were time sensitive urgent. Hers really wasn’t. There was no reason for her to come in early fall versus a time when it would be easy for me to help her except that she wanted to. But somehow she seemed upset or hurt that I said I couldn’t commit. And I felt upset and hurt that she, knowing my struggle, knowing my age, knowing my lack of success in just about every area of life, knowing that I had finally come to a place where success was on the horizon and I could very well break through in three months if I just focused on myself – knowing all this… Knowing that I melt down with too much stress and I struggle with keeping my physical and mental health balanced – I send her pictures of my muscles twitching and tell her about my meltdowns regularly, she was backing me up against a wall. Either I work at a super stressful pace: Rewrite a script by a certain time, which would require a twenty hour a week commitment full of high mental energy because I don’t know how to to do it. Plus prep for a farm harvest, which would as well require at least a twenty hour a week commitment full of high mental energy because I don’t know how to do it. I’m done by then as we all know. I’m beat. My energy betrays me at the worst times when I do hard stuff. But get up with my muscles hurting and nerves twitching and get excited about taking classes for a new business sis is starting and writing grants and getting on phone calls with overseas people who love a good scam and making creative plans with type A’s who are on the dominate or be dominated interpersonal vibe. Forget about a man or free time or self care or time for joy with this plan. I was mad that my sis would even want me to be on this plan. When she didn’t have to. I don’t even know if she cares that much about this business. I don’t think she does to be honest. It’s a hobby and she’s just excited about starting a business overseas in general, but she don’t want to run this business. She wants me to run it. And I don’t want to run this business. It’s not feasible or sustainable. Not for me. I’m so not interested in the high paced super busy life anymore. It doesn’t work for me. It makes my muscles hurt and gives me no time to smell roses, laugh or love. My sister lives at high pace and maybe she’s able, but I’m not interested. So that was my one big situation, which is still not resolved. I told my sis about all this and she still wants me to lead her project. Still planned to go overseas at a time that would either make me sacrifice my goals or move at a pace that’s unhealthy for me. So, my only options are to help her at a pace that’s healthy for me and allows me to meet my goal timelines, which is not fast enough for her to be prepped by the time she goes and then her results won’t optimal; or move at her pace and then flop and fail at my timelines and be nerve buzzed and muscle pained to boot. It’s a bullshit situation and I’m mad at her for putting me in it. Because she didn’t have to. She could have everything she’s doing – I could have done it for her even – in a few months after I had seen some success in my own endeavors. The other situation was another sister. She had plans for me as well. She generally asks me to help her with stuff as her first responder and always treats me the worst when I help her and is the most ungrateful and disrespectful and abusive as can possibly be when I help her. While I was overseas, she asked if she and her son could move into my apartment. Whatever whatever happened in her life and it was urgent. I said yes and she had moved in in a few weeks, with the idea that I would be living with them when I got back from overseas. She told me she wanted to remodel the apartment and I was fine with it. She asked me if I wanted to contribute to selecting the decor and I wasn’t interested in contributing – we don’t have the same sense of style and I didn’t even want to try. We had tried before and don’t agree on style. But I didn’t care, because I like her style. It’s just not my style. I told her that the only thing I cared about was the couch. We agreed that we would select the couch together once I arrived. Before arriving, I was on a conference call with her one day and I stepped away. While away, I heard her ask the other person on call, “When is Laydie coming back? Because I need a babysitter.” I was crushed. Here I was actually excited about coming to see my sister and here she was trying to play me as usual. When I came home, my place was beautiful, but there was no indication that any consideration had been made as to where or how I would live there. There was a queen sized bed in room and literally all closets and all shelves in the entire apartment were filled with sis and son’s stuff. There were two work desks in the living room – one kid desk and the desk I used to use now had my sis’s big desktop on it. My sis had panicked in prep for an event and ordered a couch before I got there. She said that she ordered it before consulting me because I was traveling and she couldn’t reach me. She hadn’t tried to reach me and could have reached me had she tried. The couch was cute enough but not functional. You couldn’t sleep on it. I mean, she could have gotten a futon. She could have gotten a sofa bed. She could have gotten a king bed. She could have gotten anything that would indicate that she had thought about where I was gonna sleep, but she didn’t. We had lived together before and every time one of us slept in the living room and had closet space in the living room and one of us slept in the room and had closet space in the room. I asked her where I was supposed to live and she started crying. Said she had been used to being coupled up where her and her person shared everything and slept together and she didn’t think any differently when moving in with me. She said I was supposed to sleep in bed with her and son. Or that I could decide. And went on with the waterworks. It was clear to me that she hadn’t thought about where I would sleep, or she had thought I’d sleep in living room. Sleeping in living room could have worked for me if I actually had something to sleep on. But the couch wasn’t appropriate for sleeping on. It was too skinny. On top of all that, she had invited or allowed another family member, my 6’4″ nephew, to come and visit for the summer. So now there were four of us in apartment. One bed and one non-sleep-able couch. I slept on the floor because I don’t believe you invite guests to your house and have them sleeping on the floor or force them to sleep with you unless you absolutely have to. I had a script due – something that could change my life – in a few weeks if I was going to be on track. I would write and she would call me a workaholic. My muscles were hurting. She had planned a birthday extravaganza and had written me into babysitting duty and whatever else on the plans. I fell off a scooter and scraped my arm up real bad and kind of banged my body out of place. She noticed in the moment but forgot about it later. After our neighbor came upstairs and rudely complained about her son jumping up and down, she changed our internet name to a real adversarial name – “***** witches upstairs”. She thought it was funny. I thought it was destroying about ten years worth of relationship building and also I didn’t like the idea of identifying as a witch even in jest, and I asked her to change the name. She didn’t. Had one excuse after another. Thought it was funny. I had a work meeting with a colleague whom I had invited over the house. He wanted to log into the internet. I had to tell him the internet name was “***** witches upstairs”. It was humiliating. Anyone who knows me knows I’d never name my internet that, including my sis. But here I was. I had welcomed someone into my house and I was being bullied, sleeping on the floor, got an effed up internet name, couldn’t do any work because sis acts offended if she’s in my space and I’m not giving her my full attention. I had had a super opportunity to be recommended for this prestigious film lab. I had previously applied for this lab twice and been denied. This third time, I had a shoe in. I was recommended. All I had to do was show up with a project. I had several friends who would have died for me to bring them into this opportunity. But I reached out to my sis, because she’s my sis and I wanted her to win to. Told her I could bring her project in and all she had to do was write it. She was with it, but at the end of the day, she didn’t write it. We didn’t get into the program. She had nothing to say about it. When I brought up my disappointment, she starts crying and talking about how she had gone farther than ever with that project and how she never finishes anything. Never said sorry. Full of shit. While I was out of town, I had introduced her to an ex of mine, who is a neighbor, thinking she could use a friend and she could use some help with stuff. They connected, and she would tell me when they chatted. When I got back in town, neither she nor he would tell me they are in communication, and I didn’t even think they were. Then one day she tells me she’s going running with him that night. I was shocked. I had just spoken to him that day and he had told me no such thing. “How are you going running with him?” I asked. She was taken aback and said “You can come if you want.” I didn’t say anything. My ex didn’t tell me about it. They went running together and hadn’t thought to invite me at all, even though I had been focused on exercise and my sister knew that. He told me it was last minute – that he thought she was going to flake and didn’t know they were going till 10p (my sister had told me they were going around 6p)- and that’s why he didn’t invite me or tell me. She told me she thought he was going to flake and that’s why she didn’t invite me, but I was welcome to come. I was welcome to come???? How is my sister going on a one-on-one with my ex and telling me I’m welcome to come? Some bullshit. My ex told me about an eyebrow raising incident that happened during their run. My sis never told me about it. My ex told me that my sis had messaged him at some point on one of those days asking him to take her to the farmers market because I was asleep. My sis never told me about it. I generally wake up before her in the mornings… And all this time sis is walking around the apartment like she’s doing me a favor by being there. She’s doing me a favor by getting my internet turned on and labeling it a name that makes me feel disempowered, offended, and disrespected every time I see it. She’s doing me a favor by getting us a couch that I can’t even use. It’s the thought that counts, they say. But I’m sorry. I really don’t see any thought of me in her actions. In fact, I see thoughts to hurt me. I call bullshit. So this was my life in June. This was going on while my other sis has designed a whole business model around my potential leadership. My mom is calling me asking me to help my brother and if I tell her about any of my small wins, her immediate response is to tell me to help my other sister, who didn’t make it to the blog today. I am offended. What is she talking about? I stay helping somebody’s sister, brother and friend, but it’s too much. And the worst part is, I be giving blood for people. Blood they don’t get anywhere else, but somehow I am resented by those same people for whatever reason. I don’t get it. Nobody is asking me how I’m doing. Nobody is noticing my drained energy or my teeth chattering or the amount of deep breaths I have to take before walking out of the house. People acting mad and calling me selfish if I dare mention me in a convo… I came to my brother’s house in July. He had gotten an operation and needed help. I needed a place to sort things out. It worked for both of us. My sis eventually moved out of my apartment. But now today here I am. Hiding. Mad. My sis is planning her overseas trip and she’s overwhelmed. She doesn’t know how to do it. She never planned to know how to do it. She doesn’t even speak the language there. She planned on me doing it on her time, even though I told her it wouldn’t be good for me to do it on her time. I actually know she cares for me deeply and she can’t see how this is negatively impacting me. But after being in a situation where a family member was literally trying to feed me what I thought was food poisoning that could kill me – not because she wanted to kill me – because she couldn’t see how she was negatively impacting me, I’ve become a bit hardened. I don’t care if you don’t mean bad for me. If you’re affecting me badly and I’m telling you and for whatever reason you can’t hear me and I’m doing my best to communicate to you, I have to stop and just do what’s good for me. I’m not suicidal. I can’t wait for you to understand. I might be dead by the time you get it. I don’t know where this blog started of where it’s going, but I had to tell someone what happened. Maybe you will feel sorry for me. Maybe you will understand that I am not a bad person. Maybe not. I just received an email that makes me think my sis can do this project without me. I am relieved. I’m sure she’s mad or feels whatever about me, but I’m giggling. Thank God! Wow. Y’all. What a realization just happened. Is happening as I write. They can do it without me. Let them the eff go! Lawdamercy this feels so good. They not gonna do it the way they would do it with me, but that’s fine. They’re smart and talented and even my wanna be witch betraying ass sister got some good qualities somewhere that will come out at some point. I think this needed to be done. I think I needed to fall back so that they could be mad and out of whatever motivation prove to me (and prove to themselves) that they can do shit without me. Oh, Lord, thank you! Wow! I can go work on myself without feeling guilty now. Just in this moment, I am realizing that they can do it without me, and with that realization there is a possibility of hope. Maybe they will approach me for stuff because they want to, not because they feel like they have to. So I did do a good job? I did the right thing. It has been so hard to not be accepted by them or be disapproved of. It has been the hardest thing. It has been the hardest thing in life to not be accepted or approved of by so many. I’ve been a dumb ass sacrificial lamb wanting people to love me or approve of me or accept me, and at the end of the day, I haven’t usually even gotten those things after giving what feels like so much to me. Y’all… We got somewhere in this blog. A spell just lifted. I feel like I can go do me without guilt. And I can get over my stupid sister’s roommate transgressions. I ain’t coming close to her until I see demonstrated action that indicates she is loving and kind towards me, but suddenly, I can get over things. Oh, man, this feels so good! In this moment, I am starting to feel free. I guess telling on everyone makes it a bit better, even if I’m just telling it in a secret blog. But also recognizing that they can do it without me lifts some burden off my shoulders and allows me to think a bit wider. My mood has shifted and there is energy in my hips. Thank you, God. Ameen. I don’t know what to title this entry. This is a long one. And there’s more to it. It has occurred to me that I’ve been over here in the mud for far too long. And I’m over it. I’m so over it. Something has got to give. That’s the title of this entry and this chapter. Not in a romantic fantastical way, but in a way that works. Something has got to give. This life can’t just be about surviving and solving stupid problems and making it through. Somewhere, there has got to be the chance at thriving. Somewhere, there has got to be the chance at something good. Not just the chance. The realization. God help us. Ameen.

Day 551 – This Fire (Good Grief)

Lit or unlit? That was the question my therapist told me to ask myself when making a decision. That was over eight months ago. November 2020. It was the last time we talked. “Fight for your happiness. Or rather, allow your happiness” are the thoughts in the back of my mind.

Attachments. Like scary things on my back. This is the post. I am over myself. A word dump. This life has been a dump for me… The dumps I am down in. I am down in the dumps.

Unlit. That was what I saw when I looked around at my life. “You have gathered your self-worth now. You have passed the test.” I hear My People’s voice. My self worth has left me with nothing but myself. Misunderstood. Hated. Judged. Treated badly. Not always. I am aware that some of this is true and some I am taking too far, but all of it feels true. Everyone feels unsafe, taking, eating of me. Wanting. Always wanting. Not much giving of what I need. No awareness or interest in my needs for that matter. This is how I feel in this moment.

Low… Bitter. Most people think I’ve been bitter for years, but no. It is now, in these few weeks that I begin to know the feeling that I’ve seen on so many others’ faces for years. The bitters. Resentful. I am mad at so many people for asking so much of me that they never would imagine to give. I am mad at the world for not allowing me to be safe and sweet. I am mad at myself for taking so long to see. I am mad that I am not allowed to be mad even when I am mad. These strong girl tears are resented and the ones you have cradled while they were in the mud throwing mud at you are the same ones that have no arms for you in your pain. Instead, they lash you for not being their hero. They lash you for being low.

I am sad. And not delusional again. I say again instead of anymore because it is the thought pattern of the language I picked up from my mother’s land. Broken country. Broken language. Broken English.

“And what are we gonna do now?” My own thoughts taunt me. My own thoughts aren’t even nice to me. I swear to God, I can never get no pity. Not even from myself. So what will we do now?

I don’t really want to run away from anything. Go find some way to bandage pain. I finally admit I am too deep for that. I have been running for years in a circle. What is it I don’t want to face? My sadness? My failures? My inadequacies? They don’t scare me that much. So what is it?

My bigness.

I wanted to reach out today because today felt important. I was going to be brave and have all these talks, but I didn’t quite know what to say. Relationships have been falling apart, but I don’t want to save them. They were founded on shit. Excuse my language. But they just won’t do no more. Not as is. They’re full of shit and holes and so many things that no one wants. And maybe it’s me. Maybe I’m the sh*tty part, and if so, I just won’t do anymore. Not as is.

But something in me doesn’t feel like I’m that bad. Because I am always the one leaving and others want me to stay and are always calling me back. But they don’t love me while I’m there. In fact, they mostly hate me, but love whatever I bring to them. And that is hard to know and feel. What is harder, though, is not knowing what to do about it all. Because I Love them anyway and I wish they loved me, too. For real. Like I wish that I could feel it. I wish that I could feel Loved. I really do.

I’m sure it’s there. I’m sure I’ve done something good in this world and I’m even sure that some of the people that I feel so hurt by Love me… but I wish that I could feel it instead of sitting here crying all the time. I wish I could be happy for real.

It’s been a long time here in the mud, thrashing. Moving but not quite. I will say that I have made progress and find a way to celebrate. I have made progress and come a very long way. I was not even in my body when we started this journey. Was just hanging out on the outskirts trying not to feel pain. A hypersensitive empath coming from a people that are probably the most gangster humans I’ve ever met. What a comedy, God. And then you made me a girl. And super ugly first and then super pretty but not even knowing that people think I’m super pretty. What a set up for quite a story. What I want to get to now is the next chapter. In fact, I want to close this book. The end. The girl died. Yep. Dead. She gave up trying to figure all this painful stuff out and just poofed out of this world. Freedom at last! The ones left behind were just fine. They were impacted by her life and she was impacted by theirs and all for the betterment of themselves.

She failed at some things. She was not the hero they all wanted. She succeeded at others, but she didn’t know what those were. It was not for her to know. The seeds had been planted. And the angels applauded. She had tasted the bitters but they passed through her and did not stain her heart… And then what?

I guess why I am here today is to answer that question. Then what? I can’t really be here forever, in my brother’s room, hiding from decision and action. I mean, I could, but I’m pretty sure that’s not the answer anymore. I gotta say thank you, God. This is what I needed. I needed space where it was okay to be sad and mad and feel and see what was in me and take baths and not be bothered and have clean stuff and food around and at least if I wasn’t loved, to be around someone who didn’t hate me and was appreciative of whatever little I could give. Who would have thought that my brother whom I beefed with for years would be my saving grace right now? He gave me money, too, just because he thought I needed it. And I’ve been helping him, too. He needed help with stuff right now. I am glad to help him. I am realizing as I write this that we have made amends. This is our amends, isn’t it? … Thank God…

I took a break from writing this post. And on the break, I read a Facebook post by a lady claiming her age. She’s older than me, but not too much older. And she acknowledged her “Holy sadness… Sadness (she)… is actually feeling because (she)… knows better than to stuff it.” And I am saved. This.

This part. This is about holy sadness. Not just holy sadness, though. Good grief. Grown up stuff. This is about me finally accepting that I am grown up. I have lived a bit, and in it all, I have learned a thing or two. Not everything. But I have learned how to get out of this sh*t. I ain’t do all this crying for nothing. And yes, I could poof away. That is an answer and that is the answer for some people. I’m not judging them. I have learned, finally, not to judge.

I am not going to poof away. I have already poofed. That Laydie from just some months ago, from years ago, is no more. Nope. She has transitioned and I have been trying to hold on to a ghost. She has become a butterfly, but not really. More like a moth. Or a dragon or something without name. A beautiful wing-ed beast. I can paint the story however I want, you see? This is the freedom. The question I have now is do I want to paint or do I want a story to be painted through me? I am still intertwined in many’s lives and I will always be. I am the one to break the generational curses, I know. My momma been pushing it on me since I was a kid. I don’t know how or why I signed up for this sh*t, but it’s ok. I don’t have to accept this bullsh*t mission, but I can. We’ll see…

Maybe I’ll have sex. LOL. I don’t know if this post is going to make it to published, bc it’s maybe bit realer than I usually share. But, from the start till the end of the post, my mood has changed. The change in mood was instigated by reading an older lady claiming her age and not wanting to be identified as young and infantile, and realizing that that is an issue for many of us. We don’t realize that we are not kids anymore. We are old. Grownups. Not only that, but we don’t realize that we’ve learned a lot and it’s a good thing. We can solve problems differently now. We don’t need to be moored to a bed for years because someone we hoped would feel a certain way or treat us a certain way doesn’t. We can be hurt. It’s ok. This we have learned through our age. We can feel things now and it won’t sink us. We don’t have to escape our bodies like we did when we were little. We can be right here and feel, and the magic is, when we feel the stuff, it passes through us, and then we can feel good stuff again, too. Sometimes it takes a while to feel good again, but we can wait. We know this because we are old and we have learned patience. And wisdom. Wisdom has come. It has always been there, but we accept it now. Slowly. At a pace that doesn’t break us or make us feel manipulated. There are some urgent things, but most aren’t. Tend to the urgents. Just do it already. You don’t have to be happy about everything while you do the right thing. You can do the right thing and be mad. I learned that overseas. It’s a cool realization. But mad and resentful are not the same things. You can have feelings… I hear all my mentors and advisors clapping for me as I write this. I have passed some sort of test, it feels like.

I am finally flirting with the idea of letting go. Finally I felt the pain I had been carrying. I’ve been carrying a lot of bullshit pain. For a long, long time. It was a lot. Mine and so many others’. I had been afraid to let it go. But this will no longer do. I hear my guardian angels telling me to be careful. Just because I have let go does not mean others have. So be discerning. This has been my mistake before. Open up to everything, including the hells of the Earth, or shut down to everything. I can be discerning, because I am a grown up now. And I don’t have to do it all on my own anymore. I passed that test, too. I am so proud of myself! I passed. I was willing to be alone rather than betray my own knowing. I knew – I didn’t have the words, but I knew how certain people felt about me. They would not admit it, until I poked the bear and then they spit it out. I am this, that and the other and so I deserve all the malice and bad treatment in the world. That has been the nasty root of all this nonsense shitty shit shit. And I am sure that somewhere in me, conscience or sub, I have believed the same about them and about myself. That we are this, that and the other and so we deserve bad treatment.

Don’t give pearls to swine, my teachers voice whispers. I don’t know if I agree. If you give pearls to swine, just know that they are swine. Don’t expect them to value them and know that you have given something of great value to someone who will not value. Just do it on purpose for a purpose… I guess what I’m saying is that writing this entry has helped. And I have moved from feeling unlit to lit. Lit inside. I don’t know what to do about my relationships at all still, but I am excited about the thought of forgiving my own daggone self. Letting go of every Blessed debt. Every single one. I have been a hostage to these emotional debts for so long. I feel a bit freed up. And letting go of all debts I felt were owed to me. I have poofed and vanished. LOL. Debts canceled. No kids to take them on.

I will set a new intention now. To be intentional. This is what grownups do. I did not get to see what fathers do too much, but that’s OK. My father loved me anyway. But I know what mothers do. I know what my mother did. She made intentions for us. She didn’t get eight kids out of the ghetto by doing nothing. She planted some good seed in us. She made her own mistakes, but she has my forgiveness, too… I am rambling now.

I’ll post this. I’ll accept this opportunity to start anew and give others the same chance, too. It’s called Grace. But everyone doesn’t get to come back ’round. You gotta be nice to me to get this new frisky smile that’s forming. You gotta actually like me and act like it. And respect. Ooooh, I can’t wait to see what it feels like to be respected by someone near me. Awww man, that must be so awesome. I wonder if I could be one of those women who is cared about by a nice man. Someone who thinks they’re worthy of being held and puts up with all their issues. That would be so super. I keep thinking I gotta go get ready or do some healing to be worthy of like, even thinking that I dare be lit up, but it’s not true. I’ve already done the work.

Can I just say one more thing? I failed. Yep. At many things. Some things are salvageable, but some aren’t. My grandma is dead. Six days before she died, she was robbed and her security cameras were disable. I told my mom, “You need to send someone to the house. They are trying to kill (grandma)” the minute I heard she was robbed. But no one made it to the house. I didn’t make it happen and no one else did. And she was dead six days later. I don’t know if she was killed. Only the people who were there with her truly know how she died… I feel like I failed at keeping her safe and like I failed at so many other things. Like my life should have been better than this by now. So many people looked up to me and look up to me to save the day and pave the way for so much. I didn’t fully realize the scale of superhero-ness with no support that people expected of me till this recent breakdown in relationships. But I get it. I’m big. And people see it in me even if I don’t see it in myself. I’m finally starting to see it. I just want to say something, though, for the big people who fail. For the big failures. I’m not going to sugarcoat it and say you didn’t fail because you learned some lesson or blah blah blah. It’s not true. You failed.

But what is true is that you can forgive yourself. You don’t have to beat yourself up for it for the rest of your life. You can forgive yourself and try again. And if you aren’t able to try again, if it’s too much, that’s ok, too. Sometimes it’s too much. Sometimes you really will die if you try to do certain things in certain circumstances and the thing is not what you’re willing or wanting or needing to give your life for. So forgive yourself, K? Even if the person you hurt won’t forgive you. Say sorry if that’s what you feel in your heart. Make amends if that’s what it’s supposed to be, and let yourself go. Let yourself be free.

I’ve talked a whole big fat mouthful in this blog and I don’t even know where I was going or coming from. I’m not rereading or editing this. Not even going to scroll back up to see where I started. Kind of want to share something raw because I think it helps. This time, it will help someone. I know. I started off thinking about being lit and unlit, with no hope for lighting my fire. But before I finished writing, I see a small flame in my belly that is, in fact, still lit. I’m going to go and find someone to have sex with now. That’s it. To light this fire. I know I’m not supposed to say or share that, but that’s the doggone Truth.

Be Blessed. Stay Well.

Love,
Me

Day 551
This Fire (Good Grief)

Day 550 – Ameen

My last post was “Apply Knowledge” three months ago. Very timely. Hello world. I’m brand new again. Wanted to touch base with you. I’ve been hesitating on telling the truth, even to myself, and definitely scared of telling the truth here because so many people I know read this blog. But I need to tell the Truth so I can move on. My life sucks. It’s amazing, but it kind of sucks. My relationships are not what I want them to be, especially my relationships with family. And if I tell the Truth, I’m gonna say a lot of mean things about family and friends, and maybe they’ll say a lot of mean things about me, too, but I’m kind of carrying feelings that I don’t want to hold, and so I need to unload. I have run away. From my house. Because I have some work to finish and my living environment was not the ideal place to get it done in the timeframe I need to complete it… I don’t want to say too much, except I feel guilty focusing on me all day at home, because I feel like my housemates want my time, attention, and help and they resent me for focusing time on myself instead of doing whatever it is they want me to do when they want me to do it. My key housemate is my sis. Let me tell you bout my sis. Or rather, let me tell you bout this relationship dynamic. When my sis was seventeen, my mom left town for work for a while. I was an adult and I had just faced the first real disappointment of my life. Up until then, I never even realized that everything I had ever put my efforts towards, I had always gotten. I didn’t even know that failure was an option until I failed real big. I had joined with other siblings to buy a big house for my mom, and, through a series of events, we lost the house. I tried my very best. I had did my part to make sure we kept the house, but my partner in the house buying didn’t do her part. And we didn’t have the money to keep paying the mortgage. I found out late. I hustled as much as I could, gathered people together to pay mortgage, but I couldn’t find a job to save my life. And at the time I was in grad school. And grad school was hard. And it was around the time our thesis was due. I failed. We lost the house. I didn’t do my thesis on time. And I took a year off. I had an apartment with my 23-year old sis, and my youngest sis moved in with us. She was 17. Long story short, she was doing teenage stuff and lying about stuff. My spidey sense suspected as much and so I looked through her phone to see what she was up to. I found out that she had had a plan to skip school. Talks of boys and friends were in the plan. And so I fronted her. It was actually kind of interesting. She was supposed to use my mom’s car to execute her ditching plan. I, too, needed to used my mom’s car so that I could go somewhere that day. So I asked her to use the car that day. Said I’d drop her off at school. She made up a bunch of inconsistent lies about why I couldn’t drop her off. At the end, she dropped me off and then I asked her what she was doing that day. She told me whatever and then I asked, “Are you sure you’re not doing such and such (whatever I had seen on her phone)?” She was shocked. She started crying and saying I violated her for reading her phone instead of apologizing for lying and trying to play me. Later, we talked. I told her I wanted us to be sisters and share things. She told me she didn’t feel comfortable sharing things with me… That was many years ago. And that’s the dynamic I feel we’re in today. I had written a whole thing about our issue today, but WordPress deleted the middle of my entry somehow and only left the ending. So we don’t need to talk about our situation today. It’s for the best. The root of the situation with sis is not what’s currently happening. The root of the situation is me not feeling Loved or valued or appreciated or respected… My sis not feeling like I’m there for her and constantly guaranteeing that experience by asking for help at the very most inconvenient time possible with little notice and being downright unpleasant, disrespectful, closed off, sneaky and ungrateful when I’m there for her, thereby shifting my interest in wanting to be around her, ‘cus I ain’t tryna abused or disrespected or taken for granted, and therefore I leave and end up not being there for her or being there for her but not really feeling it… This will be funny to the people who can’t stand my guts. God told me to not change a doggone thing. Learn to forgive myself more. Apologize and/or make amends for whatever hurts you’ve given out and then forgive yourself on behalf of all the people who won’t forgive you. Set boundaries and expectations in your house that include emotional safety for yourself and others. Lead and encourage the youngers to be leaders, too, and stand up and participate in the creation of a positive home life. Now is the time. They won’t believe you’ve changed. Just stay consistent. Forgive yourself, Laydie. Over and over and over. Forgive others. Over and over and over. Don’t hold back Love. Just keep Loving. Even if people don’t appreciate it. Some things – very few – are family emergencies and obligations and responsibilities. Participate and accept those with Love and an open heart. Anything else? Go where the Love is. Go where you want to give the Love. You’re not a martyr, or even a hero. The most heroic thing you can do is be good to yourself and kind to yourself. Don’t worry about being good and kind to others. That’s a given with you. When you are good, everyone around you always wins. And your family? Like Claire says, “(You’re) entire family is blessed by… (your) ability to advance… (your) success and level of influence in the world. At the center of their being, they are deeply supportive of and grateful for… (your) success and fulfillment.”… I’m grateful for this blog. It is a place for me to sort things out. Nothing does it like this blog. Even my journals don’t give me clarity like writing in this blog. I’m grateful for all the gifts I’ve gotten in this world. My journey to this fantasy place called happy has been arduous, but it has been worth it. I’ve come a long, long, long way from where I started and I’m proud of myself. Can I just say some good things about myself for a minute, and then I’ll get offline. I’m proud of myself for this moment. These are life long dynamics that I’m dealing with. An empath with no boundaries is a recipe for death and finally I am learning and healing… You know, I have a friend who reads this blog just so he can judge me. Stop my reading my damn blog and find something better to do with your energy than judge everybody. Let me work through my issues with Grace. Please and thank you…. Please and thank you… Ameen Day 550 Ameen

Day 549 – Apply Knowledge

Hi there.

There’s so much on the mind. I got a lot of inspiration today. Went early in the morning and dropped off some support for a teenage girl that I’m so happy to be helping support. I Love her. Then I met with some people who are helping me to wash my month’s worth of dirty clothes. I went to the beach afterwards. Did some stretches. Let the ocean touch my feet and wash away what it will. I like this ocean. I like to put my feet in it…

Afterwards, I read chapter fifteen of “The Master Key” by Charles Haanel. Chapter fifteen was essentially about applying knowledge. Mind blown. Our task for this week is to look at whatever issues we have and apply the insight and knowledge that we’ve gained thus far to solve our problems.

I meditated a bit, and then went to breakfast after reading Master Key. Interacted with my favorite waiter here, whom I Love, too. He’s mad at me, but not really, for not inviting him to go to the beach with me this morning. Wrote a text to a local man who has been trying to leech off of my life force for the past two years. Just cut him off. I had entertained dating him two years ago – glad I didn’t sleep with him – and he has not accepted our break up for the past two years. I’ve been keeping him as a friend – he’s very talented and animated and fun to be around – but every time we hang out, it ends up bad at the end. He ends up trying to get back together and making some kind of bid. I end up rejecting him. He ends up resenting me. Repeat.

I’ve been here before. With a similar guy whom I actually dated many years ago, before this blog. This is a repeat and it’s time for lessons learned.

I went through another repeat episode with a friend this past week. Eating my energy and betraying me and disrespecting me and trying to control me at the same time. I can’t blame him for wanting to do what he wanted. I got sick this past week, as usually happens when I allow this kind of dynamic. I blame me. I let him eat my energy. This is the point of power. This is the message this is what’s been happening to me. This is what I’ve been choosing. This is the final pattern to be released. But how?

I will do my best. I listened to a friend of mine give psychic readings online. She doesn’t know that she’s my friend, but I’m her friend and one of her biggest fans. Her brother used to be my best friend and now I watch her blossom online and step into herself fully. She inspires me. She gives psychic readings to whoever pays her on random online pop-ups, and sometimes I listen and see if anything resonates with me. She spoke to one client about the idea of giving chunks of her power away to people and constantly seeking approval and acceptance from others. This resonated with me so much.

I have been doing it so much. Giving time and attention and energy away to people who I don’t even like most times. Mostly men. Feeling a need to please others. So much looking for acceptance. Wanting to prove to certain ones that I am good. Wanting them to see me as a good person. Try as hard as I think I’ve tried, it just hasn’t worked. Psychic Friend’s advice was to let that go. Realize that you are not cursed from birth, and your way and your flaws are just your way and your flaws. Others have other flaws, hidden and exposed…

So, I wanted to write something about something because something is shifting and I want to name it now. I have changed. I have grown. I was analyzing my progress in my last entry, and in this past week, I can actually say that I’ve reached the culmination and completing of certain life episodes and certain life lessons. I’m “clear”, as they say out here, and now it’s time to give birth.

I want to tell you that I’ve changed. I want to officially present myself to the world. I feel afraid to say things out loud because I don’t want anyone to hurt me or judge me or tell me I’m not who I am. But I do want to say that I’m not who I was: this wounded, crouched up being, never quite getting or being or giving or experiencing what she wants in life. Always almost there. I have arrived. And how, you ask, have I arrived overnight? Well, it has been more than a decade in the making. And you, you ask, can I say I have arrived when I am still sitting in the same space as I was yesterday?

I tell you I am not. Yesterday, I was sitting in a dark room by myself, full of thoughts of pain and regret. Today, I have no human company as I write this blog, but I am not in a dark room and a fire begins to be lit. I am in a business lounge at a fancy hotel. This is the hotel where president’s and dignitaries lodge when they visit this country. I am eating a spring roll and a pastry with a cherry on top and a piece of chicken that is given in the business lounge. Today, I am grateful for this initiation of the past few months. I wrap myself in Love as I prepare to bring peace to the family by first brining peace to myself…

I have been afraid to be awesome. I have been afraid to be myself. I thought people wouldn’t like me. They didn’t. They said I was bad and sacrilegious and they never really called me selfish out loud, but somehow people always felt entitled to have from me what they would never fathom giving to me and resented me for not giving it to them. And I was never allowed to celebrate. I was never allowed to just feel happy about being awesome or feel happy about having stuff without someone frowning at me or telling me immediately after an announcement of success that I need to give my money or time or energy to them or someone else less “fortunate”. I have been living under the spell of these beliefs – my sweet sister essentially accused me of wanting her to die and slandering her, and somewhere, some family members believed it was true. My other sister straight lied on me and allowed my mom to believe that I violated her house rules and abandoned our agreements and my mom believed it without question. These things hurt me, and I just want to tell somebody. I guess I want someone to say, “Sorry that happened to you. You’re not a bad person. You didn’t deserve all that”. I just want someone to acknowledge that maybe I’m not as bad as people have treated me for so long.

Sympathy without resentment. Compassion without envy. A true hug. The feeling of being held. But I digress…

I just want to tell you a bit of what I’m going through. What I’ve been through. I know you can relate to so much pain. In The Master Key today, I read “Difficulties, disharmonies, and obstacles, indicate that we are either refusing to give up what we no longer need, or refusing to accept what we require.” It resonated with me.

I want to thank you, my dear Reader, for being here with me on this journey. When I have no “with”, no one that I can trust to share my sad things with without reprimand, I write here and I share my life with you, and in doing so, I’m not alone. And neither are you…

And today, since I am claiming change, I am going to embrace this change. Or evolution if you will. From broken to healed. From pleaser to accepting Pleasure. From unloved to Loving. From judged to accepted by others and accepting of others. From bitter and hurt to forgiving and open-hearted. From always in danger to safe and protected. From a deep sense of aloneness to finally belonging. Oh, from keeping all my gifts and talents bottled up on computers and in my mind and halfway done to sharing these Lovely things with the world. My greatest joy.

I want to make this more than a blog post. This is more than a blog post. This is whatever that thing was that they did on Jerry McGuire. I forget the word. A statement. A manifesto. A womanifesto. I couldn’t have imagined a better opportunity for myself. Here. Overlooking an ocean when I wake up every day. Servants. Food prepared for me. Support. People valuing my work and seeing my potential. A farm… So many men reflecting my sorry ass beliefs to me, lol, and finally teaching me about boundaries, about valuing myself. Finally teaching me about self-respect and teaching me to do something all the way or just shut up. You can not be a coward in this environment, or you will get devoured. It’s not a place where I’ve been able to relax into Love (yet), but it is a place where I’ve been able to see all my wounds and see what needs discarding and accepting. I’ve been able to get in touch with what my soul has been longing for.

Oh, and I’ve learned this great, great lesson about taking back my power. This is the most important Blessing I’ve gotten from here. In this extractive culture, a sensitive soul like me will die if I don’t keep my power that I need, and I will also wither if I don’t share Love. And, so, God, you have kept me safe. I’ve been getting used to luxury and getting used to sleeping on a bed. Soon, I’ll get used to having a driver and an assistant to help me with things. I feel afraid to write what I really want to get used to.

I want to get used to Love. I want to get used to comfort. I want to get used to feeling ease in my body. I want to learn how to accept these things without feeling guilty about it. I want to release the bitterness and resentment that I’ve been carrying in my own body and emotional body and be able to feel excited again. And feel passion again. And feel joy again. I want to have deep bonds, and if it’s possible to reconcile with some of the people I’ve loved the most – family and such close friends – and we could have healthy, life-positive, encouraging relationships, then I would love that so much. You tell me don’t do work on that.

– Focus on yourself. Focus on releasing your own resentments and modifying what comes out of your own mouth and trust me to take care of all of your relations. Wish them well, no matter what they’ve done. Pray for them, no matter what they’ve done, but stand firm in your decision to keep yourself safe. You are changing culture. You are cutting chords and agreements planted in realms you know not of.

How now, today, can we apply knowledge? Well, first we choose an area of focus and you know what to do. You are interested in releasing debt and density and you are interesting in learning how to carry power with Grace and humility. You still want to be accepted by your mom, who has a love/hate relationship with power. You still want to be accepted by your brother, who has a love/hate relationship with you. Do you see what your wants are showing you? They are showing your needs and your beliefs. Your love/hate relationship with self. It ends today. Yep. Over. Done. Choose it. 100%.

As we release debts, chains, chords, density, this week, we use our power to cultivate Love. We use our Magic, the word you have been afraid to say, Laydie. But you are pure Magic and you have been rejecting it most of your life so that people will not hate you. So people will Love you and not call you evil or bad.

Let us shift now, into our true selves. Don’t tell anyone. Don’t write it on this blog. Everyone here is not your true friend enough to be privy to this secret secret… Accept what you require… Boss Lady, Laydie, what do you require in order to have a successful business in creative field and also in the agricultural field? Boss Lady Laydie, what do you require? Let Claire help you get in touch with your needs and your deepest desires. Indulge your passion. Let it come alive again. Your sexuality. Yep, I said it on here. Get in touch with it again. I Love you. I Love you. I Love you… Your Love and your playfulness. If you can’t find grown-ups to be happy for you in earnest, go play with some kids.

Have fun, my baby. I know the people whose approval you want said fun is bad. You don’t have to make them wrong. Let them believe what they believe. You don’t have to prove to them that fun is good or slight them with your happy life. Just have fun if that’s important to you, and give them permission in your mind to live a fulfilled life even if fun has no parts of it… I Love you. I Love you. I Love you… Ameen.

Day 549
Apply Knowledge

Day 548 – A Place Called OK (Practice Love)

Welp. Here we are. Navigating. Much has happened. I can’t tell if I’m procrastinating or just needing to sort things out. Feeling Low. Much has happened. Much always happening… I am trying to get in touch with my feelings. Trying to get in touch with my needs. Trying to get in touch with my North Star.

Trying to find the deeper place to navigate this life from. Not feeling anything. Many opportunities abound. In the heal the world country… I have so many feelings going on.

I am tempted. To do something else. I don’t feel good after meeting with the particular person that I just met with. I don’t like him that much. I do, but I don’t. Safety not there. Energy usually not quite right. I spoke with a family member today. A family member calling another family member evil for something I deemed quite trivial. This family member used to do the same kind of thing to me. Call me evil. The sentiment feels so painful to me.

So what I am tempted to do is go to some book or some program or some person to tell me what to do. To tell me what to feel right now. To tell me what I’m supposed to focus on. To tell me what’s supposed to be important to me.

What do you feel, Laydie? I can see that you feel lost. Laydie, what do you feel? I can see that you feel confused. What do you feel, Laydie? I can see that you feel like a non-entity.

I feel like I am missing myself. Not really knowing who I am these days. Something inside has been shifted and upgraded. I want to run away. Watch a movie with a friend. Find anything to do but be present in my work. Should I do my forgiveness work today? Should I set an intention for my life through Feminine Power? Should I complete the tasks in Positive Intelligence about action? Should I read the Quran or Oneness and see what there is to see? Should I focus on the Positive Intelligence task of “harmony” this week and just keep accepting and applying harmony? Should I go and take a spiritual bath and try and see how I can get clean water to come out of my bathtub in this hotel?

I want to run and hug somebody to be honest. I want to be held more than anything. I want to be going somewhere together with someone I Love. I want an easy time. I feel so very sad when I stop and think about it and not even quite sure where the sadness is really coming from.

Rooted deep in me for a long, long time. We’ve been on a ten year journey here with this blog. Have I learned how not to cry every day? Have I made it to the other side of happy? I’ve had a major health crises, almost died three times… my colleague just woke up looking for some emotional labor… I have a colleague out here. That’s another story… He distracts me whenever he comes around, but he always comes around. Literally shows up at my hotel and messages me telling me he’s downstairs. So let me see if it’s possible for me to focus when he’s around or if I need to go upstairs and boot him out. God, is it possible for me to focus when he’s around and not pick up his super hyper anxious tense needy energy? How can this dance be harmonious without me losing power? Almost impossible is the answer, but not completely impossible.

– Grow your energy field. Be ok with radiating your energy field. Do chapter four from Feminine Power this week. Get in touch with Keita. Get in touch with your counselor. Go down the list, Laydie. You know what to do. You know what to do. You know what to do. Now do it. You can do it. I promise you can do it. It’s not as difficult as you think. Tell your friend he should have some fun before he leaves.

That is what is missing from your life. Pure, unadulterated fun… My friend just called me and I realized I had been distracting myself just as I wrote pure unadulterated fun… I am out of sink again, but this is kind of fun. Just being aware of when I am out and when I am in sink. Now I am coming closer to my core as I am writing. And this writing is a tool. “Get what you need” is the whispering thought. Apply the tools.

I am wanting to know if I’ve done anything good, Allah. I am wanting to know if I’ve learned anything. I am wanting you to tell me that I’ve done a good job and that I’m OK. I am wanting to feel Loved. I am wanting to do life “with” someone who doesn’t beat me down. Someone who is feeding me. Someone who I can have fun with and go deep with and someone who I can be myself with? I really really miss my old friends. I feel a bit ashamed writing these things. Wondering how long I’m going to miss my old friends and what I’m going to do about it. Wondering how long I will be in this emotional state. And wondering if I’ve changed any. If I’ve grown any. If anything has changed since starting this blog almost ten years ago.

Have I made it to the other side of happy? Do I know what to do now? Do I need books and people and programs to guide me everywhere all the time? Let’s take account.

I do believe that when I started this blog, I had just come back from Colorado. From moving in with some guy who said he wanted to marry me. I had just finished grad school (kind of) was working on my thesis, was trying to be a screenwriter, and had a really good upwardly mobile job at a production company. The guy lived far away. My job made him feel insecure because I was interfacing with fine, rich celebrities daily. I wanted to be with him. Didn’t want to go another day without him. And so I moved. Quit my job. Went to a dark house in Colorado. Violated my values and lost touch with who I am… Finally, when I got sick of it all, I ran away. Back to LA. My sister bought me a Greyhound ticket. My mom let me use some hotel points. I stayed in the hotel for a few days till I found a room. It was nice and temporary. Then another room, nice and temporary, too. Then another room. Not so nice. An attic. Cold. Mean. Met another man. Dream Lover. Finicky. Fell in love with his promises. Said he would go to the end of the Earth for me, but didn’t see him for two years, though he’d call sporadically… Nine years after he finally ghosted me after planning to go look at houses, I found out he was married the whole time.

Sometime during the beginning of our “courtship”, I started this blog. I had finally gotten an apartment after renting rooms. My life was quite a mess. I am so embarrassed about how my life has been, but I must say, I have indeed come a long way… My life was a mess. My inside life has been a mess. What is the difference between now and then? The biggest difference is that I feel again. Maybe it sounds small, but it is huge for me. I am in my body again. I have been away from my body for a long, long, long, long time…

I have been at the effect of so much for a long, long, long, long time… And so I guess the biggest thing that has happened in the past ten years is that I have finally gotten in touch with some of the dynamics of the relationships that I have. It has been a painstaking process. I have been bumping my head over and over again trying to get somewhere that I hadn’t even defined. Maybe a place called OK, not even knowing what OK felt like or looked like. I am so sorry for so many of us with so much suffering in the world…

But the questions remain: Have I made it to the other side of happy? Have I learned how not to cry every day? And what has my progress been in life since writing this blog?

Let’s start with the first question. Have I made it to the other side of happy? I wish I could say yes or no. But both. Yes, I have. I have come out from under the deep, dank spell of depression that has been the greater part of my life. The journey has been heart wrenching, though, and I’ve lost so many friends and distanced myself from people I love because I couldn’t figure out how to be around them without feeling used and/or abused.

Random thought: I actually met one single guy in this place. I’ve been approached by so many men since I’ve been here, and I was thinking they’ve all been married, but there has actually been one single guy who has approached me. And he actually lives in this hotel. And I actually really Love his energy, although there’s not much else I like about him. But I digress…

The second part of the question is no. I’m not feeling completely happy yet. I feel more sad and full of grief than anything, although I’ve probably had more moments of bliss and ease in the last year alone than the past fifteen years of my life compounded. And so, even though I am not the happiest I can be yet, it is as if lifetimes and layers of such profound pain that I’ve been living with are finally being released. Ease and goodness are ideas for me now, but they have been taking their time to manifest as real pillars in my life. So… The answer to the question is yes. Yes, I have made it to the other side of happy. The happy side where I don’t cry every Blessed day. But I’ve just crossed over. And this blog has been helpful. It is my self-therapy. It is where I cry and process and put things in their place and evaluate and celebrate and make meaning. And I am grateful for these words…

I just heard someone ask me in my mind why I don’t have a man…

So, on to the next question. Have I learned how not to cry every day? Yes! Absolutely. I think I might have to make a cry journal. I’m pretty sure that I spent the greater part of January without crying a single day. And for February, I was very busy and out of touch with my emotions, but still, I was not overwhelmed with crying like how I have been before. And even now, as I slow down and process and feel my feelings deeply, the crying is not like a quicksand puddle being stepped into. It is more like a shower or bath, washing and washing away. The tears feel cleansing, not binding…

And lastly, what has my progress been in life since writing this blog? I am trying to assess whether I have actually made any progress since writing this blog or if I have just been going through motions of progress without any real inner transformation. The answer is, yes, I have made massive projects and major shifts and me taking time to be aware of and feel my feelings has contributed greatly. What is the progress? Firstly, I no longer feel like I have so many hooks in my back. I’m just going to write it like I feel it. I didn’t know it and other people didn’t know it either, but I had been stuck wanting and needing others’ approval for so mach in the past, and so moored in fear and trauma, that I wouldn’t take any real steps towards moving forward in life. I’ve started respecting myself and demanding respect. It is such a huge leap and I’ve lost many friends because of it. I had created a whole relational matrix where people felt it was ok to just use me and not really pay attention to my needs or values. I had dated so many men who cheated on me or abused me or didn’t listen when I talked or treated my like shit and violated me in the worst of ways. I had put others’ needs and wants ahead of my own for a very long time with very little appreciation or acknowledgement and, well, I don’t do that anymore. I had been trying to behave in certain ways so people would approve of me for so long, and I finally cut it out. It’s been messy, but it’s been the best thing that has happened to me since starting this blog. I’ve cut chords of pain. Wounds still remain, but the draining, dulling agreements that I’ve made with so many over the course of lifetimes are over. I no longer date unavailable men. I tell them no. I no longer work on teams that have no sincere energetic reciprocity. I’m not interested, unless I just feel like doing charity for some reason, but even that, I do on purpose.

I assess friendships and relationships for character compatibility. I’m still getting better at it, but I’m kinder with myself and kinder with others and I have even learned these concepts which was heretofore foreign to me: boundaries and letting go. I’m a bit excited about what all this growth means and could mean for me. It’s a lot of progress. Lifetimes of progress. Generational progress. I have a farm in the heal the world country. It’s been hard as hell to get it started, but alas, it exists. I just got invited to do a dream job in this same country.

I want to be held. That is the final point of all this. I got down to it. I’m proud of myself. I didn’t have to read a book or go to a person or do whatever Feminine Power exercise to understand this about myself. I want to be held. I want to hold someone. I want to know what Love is. I want to Love something with all my heart and not have it hurt me – at least not too much and at least not on purpose most of the time.

You say pour all this Love into everything I do. Be kind. And forgive everything all the time. I have learned about boundaries. I have done a good job at pushing away energy thieves. They don’t come my way anymore. Practice Love. Kiss each cell of yours and wash it into Love. Practice Love… Ameen.

Day 548
A Place Called OK (Practice Love)

Day 547 – The Mens (The Energy of Love)

I wanted to say I don’t know what to write about, but the Truth is, I do. The bigger truth is that I don’t want to know what to write about because it feels scary and I’m not sure what to say about it. The second part is not so true, either. I am sure what to say about it, but I feel afraid to say it, because once I say it to the world, it becomes real to me.

I woke up this morning with Love on the mind. Love has been on the mind for some time now. My inability to feel it. My heart has been breaking and breaking and breaking open and I am beginning to feel good feelings again. I hesitate to embrace them out of fear that if I open up to the world and make myself vulnerable, I will be stabbed in the heart and get sick again and almost die and be paralyzed/debilitated with nobody believing or understanding how sick I really am and nobody there to help me without hurting me, too and experience a pain that I just don’t want to feel anymore.

So there you have it. That’s why I feel hesitant to talk about Love. Asshole past traumas… The traumas and their cohorts of false personality saboteurs – the avoider, the controller and the pleaser – took a break last night while I was asleep. They have been taking breaks here and there and in their absence, my mind has wandered into possibilities. Possibilities of being OK for real. (It just dawned on me that I’m going to treat myself, and at least one other person, with the most exquisite Love these next two weeks in preparation for Valentine’s Day. But I digress..) Possibilities of having. “It’s OK to be OK” has been a mantra of mine. I have begun thinking about men. And analyzing my life. On one of my favorite TV shows, the main character, a single woman around my age, has been struggling with Love for many years. This season, which is the last season of the show, the show creators are going to focus on her grounding. Finding her place in the world. Like, being balanced and OK.

What a concept. We have been suffering and hurting and disappointed and heartbroken for so long. In a perpetual tornado. So much so, that we don’t even dare to dream of what we really want. We don’t even dare to think it’s possible for us, because if we do, we risk the heartbreaking disappointments and agonies that we’ve felt before. If you’ve ever had your body break down, then your cells know that too much or too little whatever will make you not work. Will have you not able to think. Or walk. Or talk correctly. Will have you in perpetual pain… So, we have been here. In these caves.

And, we don’t do it on purpose, but in our choices, we find ways to stay in the cycles, so that we don’t have to face the possibility or re-experiencing our traumas. We never quite follow through with the steps that would give us a breakthrough in our dream career and instead dedicate our time and energy towards jobs we think we can succeed at. We keep dating the same type of person over and over again. You know, that person we don’t really like, but feel like they won’t hurt us? The one we’re not really into. We tense up a bit on the inside every time he touches us and there’s always a little dying of ourselves when partnering with him on stuff. We forget about passion and integrity, because at least he doesn’t hurt us. Not that much.

I’ve been thinking about men, and that’s what Spirit told me to write about this morning when I woke up. Spirit told me to write a Love letter to myself. I’m overseas and outside of my window is literally the Atlantic ocean. I hear it’s waves daily. And when the sunrises, I hear roosters crow and birds chirp. I am rich now. I don’t feel afraid to say that out loud (even though my bank account doesn’t reflect as much), because I know it’s possible for me to work and earn money and be rich. I’ve done it before without too much pain. And now I choose to focus on it. Life is just easier when you can have the foods you need and live in the environments that are nourishing. Financial freedom for myself, and then helping others get financially free so that they, too, can have time and space to align with the truth of who they are…

Anyway. I left for a while while writing this and surfed the internet. Can you tell that this is challenging for me to write about? Facing all these doggone demons. So Love. Men. Heartbreak. Disappointment. Redundant patterns. Aging. How am I still single? Will I be able to have kids? I stopped dreaming of those things. Well, actually I didn’t stop dreaming. The dream just became a dream. Something somewhere far away from me. Somewhere in my subconscious, I stopped believing a long, long time ago. My Loves just kept hurting me. My first Love disappeared. I didn’t know that that’s not what you’re supposed to do. My brother did it when I was younger. Just stopped talking to me and acted like I didn’t exist because I kissed a boy and he thought I was bad. He was my best friend before he started believing I was evil. That hurt me so bad. Do you know I’ve been living with that wound for so, so long?

I’m still mad at him. Kind of want to punch him in the face. He grew up to be an emotionally abusive jerk and bully. I grew up to be a bully, too. So there you have it. I wanted to write about Love, but I guess I had to start there. With my first real heartbreak and betrayal. A compounded trauma. A kiss followed by a secret shared followed by being rejected and shunned by the person I shared my secret with, followed by being rejected by my kisser and punished by my mom. And painted as “bad” for the rest of my adolescent and young adult life.

This is the foundation that I built my romantic Love life on. Some unhealed bullshit and dysfunctional pattern. And mostly, my relationships have been the same as the first. Intense connection followed by rejection because of some aspect of me deemed as quite horrible. Not quite horrible in and of itself, but quite horrible if I do it. So how to change a whole lifetime of debilitating patterns? How to reconcile and heal? And the final question, how to finally have relationships with men that aren’t rooted in betrayal and usury… how to have relationships where people like and value me and treat me with respect and I like and value them and treat them with respect?

It’s time for major transformation. The good news is, I am able now. I feel able to face the dark things and not die. I feel able to keep myself safe. For the past few months, over and over again, I have been confronting abuse. I have been leaving situations where I feel disrespected or not liked or not appreciated or not celebrated, or just judged too harshly and unfairly… Where the expectation has been that I will give and be a support at all costs, and in exchange I will be punished and despised if I don’t do what is wanted of me how it is wanted and when it is wanted. It’s been pretty bad. This relationship matrix founded on this false identity of “I’m bad. I’m not good enough. I don’t matter. I deserve to be punished.” That is what my life has reflected.

I’m finally seeing it. Calling bullshit bullshit and seeing how I perpetuate and create these experiences. So, step one was to extract myself from all the situations that just didn’t feel good. Y’all, I’ve been fighting for my life. I’m proud of me. Because it’s been the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I had to let go of so many relationships. People I’ve been walking with in life for so long. And it was hard. And I was scared. And I was so super lonely afterwards. And hurt feeling. And I won’t say I don’t feel lonely or hurt still, but the difference now is that it feels like a scab healing, instead of an open wound constantly being poked. The difference now is that I see and feel myself healing. Like, my brain feels air in it and parts of my body that have been constantly tightened up for longer than I can remember are now starting to relax. When my brother yells at me or verbally assaults, I push back or leave. When others take advantage of my kindness or don’t treat me with respect, I acknowledge my feelings and have conversations, and if behavior is not changed, I separate myself from the abuse. I am learning to forgive and not judge so much. We are all working through our own traumas and trauma responses.

And I don’t even understand anymore, how I could have been in so many bad relationships. I want to throw up thinking of all the things I’ve put myself through. I’m sorry, Laydie. Please forgive me. I didn’t know. These concepts of honoring myself and valuing myself and respecting myself are all new. I didn’t know. But I know now. I can’t tell you why all of this happened. I can’t tell you why bad things happen to good people. I could make up a meaning, but it would be made up, you see. I could say you were learning this or that or there was some divine decree or karma you are paying for or life you were preparing for – learning compassion or nonjudgement or disattachment so you could be a great leader… but it’s all made up. Choose the meaning that helps you be in peace, Laydie. Choose the meaning that moves you towards Love.

Choose to believe in Love now. Now we can talk about Love. And this is a long blog. But I’m going to push through it and write down these things on my Soul. Love. I want to forgive my brother for the painful seed he planted many years ago when he called me “bad” and the actions he’s perpetuated over the years to validate his thoughts of me. Even if he meant it. If he tried to hurt me on purpose. I’m just a little sick of him having power over me and even more sick of sitting by while men destroy the world. I know that’s extreme, but we women have become so complicit. We watch men burn down the world and even help them, hoping they will love us for our sacrifice. I’m a bit over it. I do believe I will stand up to bro now. All my family wants his approval. Because our dad is dead and he is next in line. But his approval sometimes comes at very extreme costs of self-approval… So anyway, I’ll stand up to him now. Not to bring him down. To lift him. That is the secret of the Light warriors. The fight is for lifting up, not breaking down. So I will do that, God, and I know you will show me the way. You are showing me already. Forgiveness and Love.

And today I thought about men. On an online video I watched, someone asked, “Would you date yourself?” My answer to myself was no. Why? I have too many boyfriends and I’m too busy “working”. So, a few days ago, I decided it was finally time. It’s been me all this time. I keep meeting unavailable men, but you know why? I’ve been unavailable. Not wanting to be vulnerable for real. I’m ready now. The thought makes me feel afraid, but I will keep thinking it until I’m not afraid of it. I’m ready to be available. This means I can’t be all caught up in my mind with men who I’ll never be with. When I say I have too many boyfriends, I don’t literally mean I have too many boyfriends, but I do mean that there are too many open doors in my life, either emotionally or in real time, that I’m holding onto. How could I love someone or be with someone when I spend Monday mornings going walking on beach with some guy who wants to be with me and whom I don’t want, and then I spend Tuesdays chatting on the phone all day with some other guy who I really like, but who doesn’t like me, and then I dream about whoever whom I liked way back when and made a promise to be with way back when whom I’m still holding out for. Then somebody’s husband who has a crush on me is still inviting me out to dinner hoping I’ll have an affair with him, and I’m eating the food ‘cus it’s free and tastes good…

And going out on dates with guys whom I know from day one I don’t want to be with… These are not actions that make me available to being with the Love of my life. These are actions that cloud up my focus. And when I woke up this morning, Spirit told me to dream. Write a letter to myself. Imagine what it would be like to wake up hearing the ocean breeze and have someone with you. Someone you Love. Someone who lights your fire. Imagine this was possible.

So here we go. What would he say to you? I don’t even know what it’s like, God. It has been so rare that I’ve been in a mutual moment of Love and care with a man. It has been so rare that I’ve been present and he’s been present at the same time and we’re not hurting each other. So let’s start.

Good morning, Laydie. I know you feel afraid to turn towards me. You think this is too good to be true and that I’ll turn around and leave you or cheat on you or betray you. Not put you first. Not invite you somewhere. Save all my smiles for someone else. Be mad if you’re doing good. Ask you to give all your energy and attention to me. Not answer your calls or talk through challenges. I know that you feel like I can’t hold the sadness you’ve been through, and maybe I can’t. But I can help you let it go. And I’m not going anywhere. I’ve made up my mind about you. It’s you. It’s you for me. And I’m not going anywhere. There are no women in my life that I’m bound to, that I need to check permission from before putting you first. I have done my work and let them all go. I have healed so many things and I’ve been making a space for you. I know you don’t want to believe it, and you don’t have to. I’m going to show you.

I’m so proud of you. I’m so proud of all your healing. I’m so proud of all the work you’ve been doing. You don’t have to do it on your own anymore. You don’t have to be the leader of everything any more. I will help you in the ways you need and I won’t hurt you as compensation. And you don’t have to do anything. I already know about your loyalty. I already know about your sweet heart. You already inspire me with your talent, grace and femininity. With your ambition and your reasons underneath. I am honored to help you. It’s not true. It’s not true that you won’t be able to find a good man if you are too smart or if you do too much in the world. I Love that you have your own thing going on. I Love that you’re smart, because I’m smart, too, and we can talk about things together and I can count on you to solve problems with me.

But this morning, before you go out for the day, before we get started, can I hold you? I just want to hold you. Even if you feel afraid to turn towards me just now, can I hold you from the back? Please? Can I touch those places on your skin that have never been touched with Love? Please? Let me touch your lower back. I won’t hurt you, Laydie. I promise. Not on purpose. Tell me, OK? Tell me if something bothers you and we will talk through things and work through things. And I will be a safe space for you. I know, you can’t believe all this without experience. So, for today, on this sweet, sweet Saturday, in a room overlooking the ocean, let me just hold your back. Let me just touched that spot that feels so wounded so that it can know the energy of Love. Will you be willing, please? That’s all you need. That’s all I need. At your own pace. It’s ok if you make mistakes. But just be willing, again and again and again. Be choosing again and again and again. At your own pace. Be willing, be choosing to know, to receive and to give the energy of Love.

Have a Blessed day. Ameen.

Day 547
The Mens (The Energy of Love)

Day 546 – Commitments and Completions

What can I complete today? Sometimes I feel like a fraud. Others look at me and think I’m doing much, but I look within myself and still feel like there is still so much unfinished business.

I won’t write too long here. I suppose I could just go down the list of unfinished business and finish one thing out a day. I’ve been saying that for too long. I don’t know what’s the deal that I sabotage just as I come close to the last step that will break through everything for me.

I’m so close to so many breakthroughs. And I went to sleep yesterday. Froze on some momentum that I was having. On purpose. Because I was scared. When I had my big epiphany, I thought of making a small documentary, and then doing a training for my team where we learned how to harvest cacao and learned how to make chocolate, and I thought about packing up and leaving this hotel and heading off to this place where I had done a yoga retreat… But then I got scared. I got scared of being a woman and being out in this retreat space by myself in this country… Being by yourself here is different than being by yourself in the US…

I wanted my business partner/mom to be here to join me in the cacao harvest and chocolate training, but she won’t be able to travel due to prior commitments and also due to a recent travel ban where she is. And I don’t have any teammates to do the small documentary with. Sure, I could make new friends and teammates and learn to do things by myself here, but I don’t want to.

You know, we have this narrative. People of my race and gender. We have this “Do it all by yourself” narrative. We are proud of it. Proud that we can overcome all manner of obstacle and do things all by ourselves. But we are not happy with it. At least I’m not. I am not happy in the narrative of the singular warrior woman who does everything alone and defeats all odds. It’s no fun for me. Been there done that. What is fun for me is what is fun. Facing challenges with people you care about. Bonding. Overcoming. Celebrating one another and making it all fun as you go along. Seeing ideas become reality. Loving. I know my farm and creative projects are not just for me. They are for the people and the world I’m serving, but I am so over this idea of being a martyr…

I do indeed need to reevaluate everything. Kind of just put my whole used to be identity on the side of the road and ask God what it is now… The good news is, although I have negative feelings and thoughts, I don’t feel overtaken by them these days. This month has been a hell horse.

What I’d like to do now is get back to doing the work. The work I didn’t do before. Like, the stuff. The unfinished business that has been here all along. It looks ugly and hard and sometimes I just go to sleep instead of doing it. I don’t know why. For once, though, I’m going to give up making meaning of this resistance.

Start over. Start again. Celebrate the wins. There have been many wins. Reach out now. It’s time to reach out. I can do it. I know it seems scary. There’s not even much reaching that needs to be done. People are willing. Let me be willing, too. Let me be willing to receive and Trust. Even if I don’t know how stuff is going to happen…

What’s the next step? Make a commitment. Put a stake in the ground. Do it now. Do it now. Do it now. You owe it to yourself. I know it has been hard. I know you feel like a fake. I know you think it’s not possible. I know you don’t always understand and it’s easier to just not face everything and go to sleep or play your life away or do the things that you know you can do, even if they don’t really do anything for your inner goodness. I know. Trust me, I know that all these things that happened to us hurt so bad… I know. I know how frustrating it is to want to be a way or want to do a thing and just not be able to do it, for whatever reason. I know what it is to feel betrayed and unloved and unaccepted and abused and unworthy and not able to be yourself without backlash and judged and etc, etc. All that sh*t. I know.

But what we gonna do about it? We just gonna be sad forever? And beat down and broken and stuck on our beds or stuck in these redundant dysfunctional relationships? We just gonna have all these cool ideas that we never implement on? We just gonna have this “life is hard and then you die” story forever? Baloney. Pure absolute baloney.

You’ve done well, OK? Don’t get down on yourself. You have done so well. You are doing a great job. I know in your culture they teach you that it’s not ok to celebrate. That it will make you weak if you do so. But we are laying all that down today. Your entire identity before this moment. What it means to be a woman and what it means to be your race and your age and to have your past and your ambitions. We are laying it down to the dust and thanking it all for bringing us here to this breakthrough point. And we are committing now. Today. I am committing to Being the Truth of who I am. Even if I don’t know what that means yet. I am committed to finding out. I accept my Strength at last. I accept my Power at last. I accept my Brilliance at last. I accept my Redemption at last.

So all those things? You know what they are. You have the list in your mind. It’s been running for quite some time. Let’s get them done. Just commit to it. Get them all done. So that’s it. One a day. Yep. I said it. I’m committing to it. One a day. One completion a day. Even if it’s a tiny, small task that’s been giving me anxiety for decades… That is my action commitment. So getting offline. Taking my life serious now. I know it’s all been so much bullshit. I know a lot of bad stuff happened. But I’m still here. I’d like a new experience now….

Ameen.

Day 546
Commitments and Completions

Day 545 – Do The Work

I’ve been struggling. Struggling is an understatement. I’ve been unable to write anything for about a month. My grandma died. Just about a month ago…

Everything changed. Just like that. A lot surrounded her death. Extended family issues. She was robbed six days before her death and the security cameras went out. My mom couldn’t come to see her immediately because she had some urgent commitment that she couldn’t get out of. No one knew she was going to die. I thought it might happen. When the security cameras went out. I thought anything might happen when the cameras went out.

I feel guilty. Like I should have done more than I did. Most of my family didn’t think it was urgent for anything to be done, because, why would they? My grandma had family around her and she had people staying with her. And there was another family funeral right on the day that my grandma got robbed. So no one was really pressed to file police reports or set-up a new security camera system. But I felt it. I felt danger and urgency in my Spirit. I did some things. Asked folks to go by the house. I didn’t ask everyone, though. I asked two people. I wanted to ask three, but family doesn’t like the third person I wanted to ask. He’s probably the only one who would have done something, though.

The other two people whom I had asked to check on grandma didn’t go. They didn’t know she was going to die, either. Nobody really thought that my grandma could die. She had just been alive for so long and seemed immovable.

But alas, she’s dead. Her cause of death is unknown. They put “cancer” on her death certificate – she never had cancer… They had their reasons and explanations. Said she died of natural causes.

My mom is heartbroken. Feeling guilty for things she shouldn’t feel guilty for. Our matriarch is gone. It’s all my mom has wanted to do these past two years of her life – take care of her mom.

My grandma and mom were the chords that kept us connected to this heal the world country. With her death, I wasn’t sure if I would continue my endeavors here. I wasn’t sure how she died or what she died of. I’m still not. Her two present children refused to get an autopsy done. I’m curious about her cause of death, but just the thought of investigating her death offends people, so I let those thoughts go… My family decided to at least file a police report against the cook who robbed her, and me and my cousin did that last week. Confessions popped up even before the report was filed.

Anxiety has been on ten. I hide out in a hotel room and eat breakfast with the staff. Men approach me daily, but most are not giving. They are looking to take, bargaining. Seeing massive opportunity. Love is not a thought. A sweet, young guy who is interested in giving comes to mind. I just messaged him. That would be a real trip. If I married a youngin’ almost half my age who has never been out of this heal the world country and has no clue about the western life… He’s nice and he likes books. Cut from a different cloth. Interested in integrity, but in this society, I’m a privileged girl…

It’s quite interesting, actually, to be privileged. You think differently. I’m not privileged in America. I’m the opposite. Pressed down upon. Just thinking of survival. But here, I’m rich. I stay in hotels where the president’s possee stay. I interface with ambassadors and honorable this’s and excellency that’s and celebrities. My grandma has a big ol’ house in the neighborhood where the governor lives. I drive a car, which is a big deal for anyone here, much less a woman. I spend two weeks’ worth of the average person’s salary on a single meal. It’s cheap by American standards. Actually, not so cheap, but average. About $15. But that’s about two weeks worth of pay for someone here. It’s quite interesting. It’s like those rich people in America who will spend about $500 on a meal. That’s the equivalent. Or maybe even more… I don’t actually have a bunch of money in my bank account, but when I conceive of a project or a mission here, I’ve been able to tell colleagues, family, acquaintances, investors about it, and they believe in the project’s potential, and they’ve been willing to sponsor me so that I can get things done and not have to suffer too much while doing it… I recognize that the people who live like this in America are the extremely privileged. They are able to sit down in their day and think about what they want to do with their lives… I could complain about so much all day long, and believe you me I’m about to do some complaining, but I also must acknowledge the massive good that is my life. I have sisters and brothers and other family members who love me daily.

I’ve lost my best friend and other friendships this year, and my “withs” have all together disappeared, and that saddens me so much, but I’ve also had friends and support from places I never imagined.

So there is much going on in my mind. I’ve felt afraid to face it all. Somehow I face it all when I write here. I had this big vision this morning about this fantastic new year I was going to have, but when I said the vision out loud, it disappeared and doubt and fear replaced it.

I don’t know what to do about my extended family. It’s all a big mess. There is no one to lead. My mom is heartbroken. So many are heartbroken and trust is nowhere to be found. My mom was the leader. I would be the one to take up what she left behind, if anyone was to take it up. But I don’t feel particularly fit or able or interested to be honest. There’s just so much trauma and drama and danger and hurt. I don’t even know where to begin with it all.

Then there’s my business and the creative things that I endeavor to do in the world. Not sure if any of it makes sense any more. A part of me thinks, “Who cares”. It has been the bane of my existence. This super deep thinking. Someone told me that I think too much.

I want to find my place in the world. Sometimes I feel like I know it, but when I say it out loud, it just sounds so ludicrous that I won’t say it.

I would be lying if I said that I cared about healing the world or even healing myself or being famous or having a bunch of money. I know I’m supposed to say I care about all those things, but at the moment, I really don’t. I wish I had some friends to bond with. I wish we could just hash it out, every single thing, and get over everything until there was really nothing but Love and goodwill between us. I wish there was nothing that they wanted from me that I wasn’t giving and there was nothing that I wanted from them that they weren’t giving. Friends. Family. A Lover. I wish I could forgive and feel good. I wish all my thinking so much would lead to something. I wish there were people who understood me for real. Like, for real for real. I wish I could hug somebody for days and days and days and they would hug me back for days and days and days and not go anywhere and just love me while they can.

I’m glad I finally got to a good place with my mom. We finally are good with each other for real. I feel the deep Love. And it’s getting there with other family members. Not so much with friends. Still not clean energy with everyone.

God told me to come back to the world today. I know it sounds weird to say God told me anything. It’s all make believe. This whole world. It’s just a bunch of stories and agreements that we have. We make it up. These systems. These cultures. The system that says God controls stuff. The system that says there is no God. We find ways to make sense of so much that we don’t understand. Some things can be proven. There are some one plus one science stuff that helps…

I digressed again, researching the science behind vitamins. I’m gonna finish this posting, because it’s been at least a month since I’ve finished writing anything… A part of me feels absolutely terrified to face the world. A part of me feels so, so alone and unable. A part of me believes that I need a person, a “with”, someone to come home to to make any movement. A part of me just wants to be held and let someone else do this life stuff for me. A. part of me doesn’t want to stop crying every day – ‘cus I ain’t stopped crying yet. A part of me is uncertain about everything and feels sorry for myself. With all this potential, how did I end up like this, with so much sadness in my mind? When does it get better? Will I ever just be ok inside? Like OK OK? All the way OK? Who is OK? Is anyone OK OK???? Or are we just masking things and coping?

A part of me misses the days when I was too naive to notice the shitty shit I was living through. I was OK then. I just had no idea about how bad off some things were and it was fine with me. I laughed and smiled from my heart and I didn’t hate anyone. And I wasn’t mad at anyone, except my brother, who had betrayed and abandoned me.

So how do we move through this, Allah? How do I get out of this room and into the world? How do I be safe in the world? What if no one ever comes to save me and hold me? How do I get over whatever else is in me that is so lonely and sad?

The answer that comes in, that has come in for so long, is that I’m going to have to do the work. Just do it. Oh, it hurts to even write that. Like, for real. My whole body swells up with anxiety. But it has to get done… I just started taking action – I booked a room in a new lodging tomorrow – and all mu visions turned to ash. My body froze up.

I’m wondering if I should finish writing this blog or book a ticket to my safe place (prison) in LA ASAP… God says I have to evolve. There’s no way out or around it. I have to evolve. Should I finish this blog or run somewhere? I have to evolve. My head literally hurts. Things stuck in my throat. Overload on the shoulders. Wonder if it’s demons. There’s no hot water where I’m going. Maybe it’s the wrong choice. No room for doubt. Lord, give me a clear answer.

DO THE WORK yells loudly in my soul. Don’t talk to sh*t f*ck else person till you do the work. This is not a punishment. It is training. It is discipline at last. Do the God d*mn work. It doesn’t always feel good. You’ve known the answer for quite some time. You know what to do and you will be ok when you do it. It won’t feel good at first because it’s different. Let. That. Shit. Go.

Stop procrastinating by writing. Do the work. Now. Offline you go. Toodles.

I Love you… Mwa.

Day 545
Do The Work

Day 544 – Acceptance

Y’all. I’m procrastinating. Well, not all the way procrastinating. Somewhat. Yeah, procrastinating. If I take one more step, this will all be over. It’s already over. I’ve been trying to hide from my destiny, but it keeps finding me. I asked for it, but I don’t know how to have it. Except that’s not true. That’s just what I’m used to saying.

I do know how to have it. I’m having it now. Nobody has liked my recent posts… Can I tell you what has happened? So much has happened. So much always happens. First, I’ll start with today. I have a profile on a dating app. This year has been the shits with dating. I have literally had three proposals this year, which isn’t bad. But two of them pulled out and left me high and dry. My year started off fighting one guy that I thought I was going to marry. We were fighting bc he was visiting Cali for the first time, visiting me, and he didn’t want to go to a New Year’s party with me. He didn’t want to do much with me at all. Just wanted to sit at home all day and talk to his friends on the phone. So, yeah, that was that. We were talking about getting married, even got a marriage license, but he pulled out after all our fights.

Then, I got whisked away by family. My little sister came into town with her son and shook up the limbo that me and my then roommate were in. Made me realize that the life I was living just wasn’t the answer. I ended up starting off the quarantine single-mother babysitting my nephew for a while, and my nephew is so lovely. I Loved taking care of him and teaching him stuff. I fell in Love with the idea of being a mother. Had never cared much about mothering before. Priorities shifted. Hung out with sis for a while babysitting and had some harsh realizations about our dynamic. Still processing it all, but left heartbroken.

Came back to LA. Didn’t feel welcome at brother’s place. He didn’t say I wasn’t welcome. I just didn’t feel welcome. He frowns and tightens up when I come around. I was in the sunken place and couldn’t handle anything much less than blatantly knowing I’m wanted and loved. I went to my apartment. Sunk more. Didn’t realize that I was actually taking some skin meds whose side effects were “potential suicide and depression”. The side effects were hitting me hard and I ate ice cream every day and cried on the bed for about two and half months straight.

Finally, when my brain just couldn’t get my feet to move off the bed, I thought that maybe I was going crazy and needed to see a doctor. I looked at the meds I was taking. Reread the side effects. Stopped taking them. My brain relaxed a bit. During that time, George Floyd was murdered. The world was in a state of unrest. We were ordered to stay at home. I had already broken up with most of the people I was living life with six months earlier, and I broke up with the last one that month. A friend who also frowns at me more than smiles. I was on my way to see him, wanted to support him at his business, but I didn’t know where he was located. I called him but he didn’t answer. I messaged him asking for the address but he didn’t respond. I was scared, out on these rioting streets. My brain wasn’t working quite right and I had to really breathe hard and concentrate to make sure I was driving ok. Finally, my friend reached out to me and gave me the address. He said he was busy and I should have gotten the address earlier or looked it up online. He saw my message but didn’t respond out of spite. I should have been more responsible, he said. There was no excuse.

It was just a bit too mean for me at the moment. Broke my heart, actually.

And so, broken-hearted I have been. Wounded. I lost interest in frowns. Frankly, I couldn’t bear them anymore. And so I locked myself up in these walls because I just couldn’t see anywhere in the world that was emotionally safe for me. Maybe it was all my fault, but I didn’t know how to fix anything and didn’t have the energy to fix it even if I knew. I just didn’t want anyone to hurt me anymore.

I met a guy. He was cute and sexy. But I was fat now, since I’d been eating ice cream and crying every day for about three months straight. And I was kind of raggedy. My clothes were raggedy. My legs weren’t shaved. My nails weren’t done. He liked me at first, but then he didn’t. He wouldn’t tell me why. I really think it’s because he saw some fat rolls on my back. I forgot that I had fat rolls, and also that there are people who don’t like fat rolls, and I went on a hike with him with my back out, some short pants that showed the bottom of my hairy legs and some raggedy shoes. I couldn’t hold my pee bc my nerves were shot at the moment and I was acting a fool so we could get to the bathroom. He ended the date early. Then I touched him on the back with Love and he froze up. Called the next day and said we should just be friends bc he overestimated our chemistry, but don’t touch him anymore because my hands were magic and he wanted us to be platonic friends. So basically, he didn’t want to date a fat, depressed girl and said we had not enough chemistry and too much chemistry. I was sad bc I was really attracted to him. It was really easy for me to just like the way he moved…

Blah blah blah. A bipolar guy liked me then acted bipolar when I didn’t immediately respond how he wanted. A guy that I met six years ago and lost touch with resurfaced and we met up down South. He was a perfect catch for me. Single, age appropriate, handsome, tall, no kids, owned a house, worked as a social worker, stable secure life… He wanted me to marry him. Move in first or marry first, whatever I wanted. It was the first time in my entire life that I felt like a man had actually chosen me. He had chosen me. I could feel it. There were no hangups. No secret lovers anywhere. No doubts in his mind. I could feel it.

By the time I had met him, though, I had been working with a life coach for about a month. I reached out to her because my life was not what I wanted it to be and I didn’t even know where to start anymore. I had tried doing stuff on my own, but it wasn’t working. My support systems had fallen apart and I wasn’t interested in rebuilding them as they were before. This life coach had suggested that I be selfish. I know some people already think I’m selfish enough, but she told me to be even more selfish. Consider myself. Consider what I like. Consider what’s good for me before I make decisions. So, this guy was great, but he wasn’t good for me. He didn’t frown at me, but he never seemed to really be listening whenever I’d talk. He’d cut me off. He’d belittle my efforts subtly, calling my amazing farm in Africa, the most challenging thing I’d ever done, some “little plants”. He was really concerned about me letting him lead, and I realized I didn’t really trust his leadership and didn’t want to follow him.

I mean, why would a woman want to follow a man who has shown no interest in understanding or respecting her needs and/or wants. He ain’t leading me anywhere I want to go, because he doesn’t even respect or know about where I want to go. So that was that. I declined his proposal and the next day I met another guy.

Within a week, new guy was at my place visiting him. I thought he could have been the one. His energy was electric. But then we fought. More leadership stuff. Wanted me to shut up and do what he said and also wanted to belittle any and of all of my views that weren’t aligned with his. It didn’t work. We disagreed. He left… I’m writing too long, but I’ve been wanting to write this blog for a while. There’s nothing like writing it for me, really. This is my super therapy.

Which brings me to today. My Electric man had really hurt my feelings by leaving. I wanted him to stay. I wanted us to talk and talk through our issues and get to the other side of a thing… But he left. A little over a month ago. My life coach told me to make a choice: Choose to be lit or unlit in life. Stop waffling. Either choose to do stuff that don’t light me up for whatever reason, or choose to gravitate towards and make choices that light me up… It was hard, because there was very little in my life that lit me up at the time. Nothing, to be quite honest. But I chose to be lit, and then I had to look at how dim my life really was. I cried a lot. I’m crying still…

I ran out of money and stopped seeing my life coach, but I had also had a success coach that helps me with business stuff. So I kept doing my business stuff. And, business stuff moved forward. My mom and sis came in town. I hadn’t seen either of them in almost a year. I faced our issues. Resolved many. I can’t even say I resolved them. God did. But I did put in some work in setting good intentions and being cognizant of my projections and doing my best to communicate with Love. I became aware of the issues with me and my brother, and finally this. This is what this blog is about. This is why I started off by saying that no one had liked my posts and why I’m just overflowed right now.

I realized that it could quite possibly be that my brother doesn’t like me. Stay with me. Maybe he does. But maybe he doesn’t. What if? Right? What if he doesn’t? What if there’s just no way that I could be the fullness of myself and my brother would like me? What if he just doesn’t like women who laugh loud? It’s against his religion? Or what if my smells and my sage and incense and whatever else just offend him? What if he always thinks I’m a potential hell monger because my ideology is not his and so he’s not allowed to listen to me, lest I lead him astray? I mean, what if this is just the way it is? What if I just don’t fit in all the way with the fam? What if mom will never accept my lifestyle or religion? What if bro always frowns at me? What if sisters always have an expectation that I can’t meet? What if friends just won’t allow for me not to be ok? Or won’t allow for me to be too ok?

Would I keep going on doing this and that, not doing this and that, showing this and that, not showing this and that, looking for approval? It wasn’t working anyway. Nobody was approving of me anyway. So – and this was just a few days ago, after my brother said I was bringing spider’s to his house because of my body lotion – I decided to stop living for other’s approval. Soften my hands. This is what came to me. Soften my hands. Be aware of the ways I show up. Start approving of myself. I didn’t get it all right. I got some things really wrong. Forgive myself already. I tried. I could stop beating myself up now. I tried. Even in the places I didn’t try, in the places that were intentionally mean, just forgive myself. See if I could look at all the dark places. Could I Love them? Even if nobody liked my blog, could I write it anyway? Tell the truth anyway.

Don’t worry about saving the world or lighting up the world, You say. I was born to be a light-bulb. A transformer. A transmuter and transmitter, like everyone else. Once the light is circulating within me, unimpeded, all of my relations will know. Life takes on a new flavor.

Yesterday, I made an online dating ad. I just told the truth about what I really wanted and what I had to offer. I didn’t even have my picture on the ad. Just had the picture of the back of my bald head. When I tell you that the finest, flyest men I done ever met have responded to that ad???? Ahimsa: absence of injury.

So today, a super-fly, fine man responded to my ad. He wrote: “The power of words… Reading your words… made me like you even though I have no idea what you look like”.

“The power of words” stuck with me. He didn’t know I am a writer. I never really thought of the idea that words could be powerful, especially mine. I hear the energy of my dead dad telling me to move on now. I feel Matsemala telling me that I can move on now. I passed the test. I learned to soften my hands and soften my mind… Use the power of my words now. Own it. Accept it. Make a definite and firm decision to be lit. Accept being lit. Be OK With Being OK. Accept goodness. Accept that you are good. Even with all the shit you’ve done and all that has happened. I forgive you. You didn’t know. You were just trying to get by. I forgive you. And I accept you. Accept you, now. And Thrive.

Ameen.

Day 544
Acceptance