Yesterday the struggle was real! OMG! I can not believe I was having withdrawals from being on Facebook. Today is a little better but I still have urges to log into my social media account to see what is currently happening in my friends, family, loved ones and the world. But! I’m not going to give into my desire. Instead, I’m committing to cleaning my kitchen and eradicating my emotions from the baggage of others.
As God would have it I was faced with choices concerning my torn relationship with my grand daughter. She sees me as a negative in her life and never a friend or a person that cares deeply for her and her outcome. My truth telling has hurt her beyond her ability to see logic. As a result, she tell private things about me in order to gain some type of satisfaction in shaming me before others. As if shaming me will fix what really ills her soul. Well any who how . . . . She has drawn her line in the sand and set her boundaries. They are loud and clear. I must and will respect them. With that stated, I don’t think she realize once she made her choices her decisions created choices for me.
I wish her well. At the moment their can never be a point return. Sometimes you must cut the cancer out in order for the body to survive.
This drug seems to appeal to incredibly smart, talented, and particularly sensitive people. To me one of the most important battlefronts for today’s parents is the prevalence of prescription narcotics and the role they play in the social lives of young people. They’re regarded by young people as “harmless” because it’s just something your mom was prescribed for her back. It’s no big deal. But it’s essentially heroin. And once the prescription drugs are difficult to obtain, heroin is the next best solution. And it seems it’s almost impossible to kick…for many. Thanks everyone, for your kind words, thoughts and prayers. —Rachel McIntyre
Today, I had barely gotten the sleep nuggets out of my eyes when I stumbled to my computer. I needed to check my Facebook message center. I had made a promise to a young woman with a small family that I would teach her the art of couponing. Yes, I will teach others how to coupon. I think all people should coupon [chuckling to myself].
Well any-who-how, as I sat at the computer the first post that stared me in my face was from this guy I feel hates blacks. Honestly his posts usually scream I hate everything and especially blacks. And when he spreads his hate among his 2,000 friends, I try not to make comments on them. And when I make comments I’m usually involved in delusional conversations that sickens me to my stomach. Because from where I’m perched in life, I feel and have seen everyone with the ability to mess up their lives, to want something for free, to think they’ve been discriminated against for various reasons and such.
Why am I friends with him? I don’t know! I have mix emotions about him being on my feed but there are days when I learn from his disdain. There are days when I enjoy his wittiness on some subject matters he and I do agree on. But this post isn’t about him nor me.
This blog post is about the awareness of drugs, drug abuse, and realizing the misuse of drugs can affected anyone. Those who do drugs I keep close to my heart and in my prayers. Drugs are the things in life that do not and will never discriminate.
Drugs are given life when a person takes advantage of another human-being. Drugs are given life when those that feel they won’t become dependent on them take or use them for whatever reason. Drugs are given life when its value is worth more than the lives they destroy. So please take a moment to watch this video of a family tragedy that has turned into a forever heartache.
A couple of days ago I was in the grocery store. And! Yes! I was couponing BIG FASHION! When I saw this guy from when I was young. I first met him through my step-brother. During that time they belonged to a local dance group. Well anywhohow, the man looked at me as if he was trying to place my face as his wife caught my mutual gaze. Rudely, I kept staring with amazement!
I know I should have cared and turned my focus elsewhere. But the ugliness of his wife would not let me stop gawking! I truly could not help myself! Thoughts of days gone by were flooding my mind as my eyes thought someone was playing a trick on me.
I was in shock! Absolute shock! And then my mind finally settled and whispered, “He ended up with that!”
Moral of this story:
I had such a crush on that guy but he didn’t like me [sad face]! And as a young woman back then rejection made me feel extremely ugly. So, to my dismay, I took the rejections of young men to heart. Sadly and eventually, I told myself I was ugly and my wounded spirit believed me. Regrettably, as a young woman I lived a life of not expecting good things; because, again, I thought I was ugly and unworthy of love.
When I saw the now older guy’s wife, and once the shock of what he married quickly wore off, I was reminded of an old cliché “beauty is truly in the eye of the beholder!”
Therefore, my message to young men and women is this : Never take to heart another person’s rejection when seeking romance, love, friendship and lasting relationships. There is someone for everyone. There are friends to be made and friendships to end. There is love and forever loved. Be patient! Live your life! Enjoy your life! You only come this way once! It would be a waste of your life to walk with your spiritual head flopping all over the place because someone rejected you. Rejection is a part of life and it is a very healthy part of growing.
Today I got a question asking if my husband’s daughter got the email we sent her nearly a week ago. Yes, she got the email and with her dad’s permission I’m posting her response.
I am not upset at all. Every statement is the truth. I know that about myself. I put unrealistic expectations on Jake. A friend of mine (who likes to counsel me for free) helped me see through the crap that I believe should be true. She helped me realize that I was spoon fed to be totally dependant on a man and he should take care of your every need. You shouldn’t have to work and you should be in tons of debt to reach that ‘American dream.’ The exact line is..’you aren’t a real member of society unless..’ And for so long I have believed that. I am 22 years old and have a monstrous amount of debt because I was told at a young age that that is how you are successful. No, it makes you stressed arena sick. There are ways to have those great things, like a house or a new car, without being overcome with a great amount of debt. It is called saving. Something Jake and I were never taught and are trying to teach ourselves now. It is very difficult. Because we were taught you weren’t anyone unless you have tons of material items. His step-dad is very materialistic. His mom isn’t but his step-dad, just like my mother, make you feel terrible about your accomplishments if they aren’t to their standards. I am working on my attitude everyday. Every morning I wake up and I think of something I am thankful for. I may not like my job but my coworke just gave me all of her Thursdays and my Fridays back. That means 30 hours a week instead of 10. And that means I will also quality for insurance through the union. I may hate getting up early but it keeps a roof over my head, it keeps food in my cabinets and so that I am able to buy Layla’s meds. I am working on not being too hard on Jake. That one is really hard because he isn’t great at staying on top of important things. And when he doesn’t stay on top of it it makes me feel like he has not been truthful with me. So many times in the past he has not been. We are working on it and d everyday is a new day.
“I smelled the stink that only a street whore has after a long, busy night.” ~Iceberg Slim, Pimp: The Story of My Life
This morning as I searched for a positive quote for today I stumbled across a man called “Iceberg Slim.” His birth name was Robert Beck. Apparently he took the easy road to securing his financial future by honing the craft of manipulating others and becoming a pimp at the age of 18. From the sounds of things he truly capitalized on using the sexual gifts God gave to women to please their husbands for his selfish purpose.
After being released from a short stint in jail Robert Beck ended his pimping career at the age of 42. One would say, “Good ridden to bad rubbish.” But! No! He didn’t crawl into a hole underneath a rock and disappear from all good society! Instead he became an author and wrote about his exploitation experiences as a pimp.
What makes his career choices gut wrenching for me, as a woman and mother, is how the literary community sought to tell and sell his story. I just gotta ask why publishers and movie makers, especially black movie makers, sought to make money from a story that exploited women? And even though I know the answer, I still find the need to ask such a naïve question in a cynical way.
My heart goes out to the women he exploited. And my prayers are for the family members that lost loved ones that didn’t make it to tell their stories. And my soul cries for the women that were and are affected by his tell all book of “man’s inhumanity to man.”
When I was a child, I spoke and thought and reasoned as a child. But when I grew up, I put away childish things. — Paul The Apostle
When I was a child between the ages of four and eleven I was very envious of my cousins. To me they had the cookie cutter mom and the all American home life.
Their mom stayed home. And since my aunt didn’t work she was able to shower her children with love and guidance. On the other hand, my mom, her sister, was a working woman. My mom worked two jobs and she had little to no time for her children. Therefore, me and my siblings were forsaken the love, understanding, and guidance that came from healthy parenting.
My aunt was a woman that took her role as a mom seriously. Each of her children had swimming lessons one day and was taken to the library the next day. She was a mom that made sure dinner was cooked everyday. She was a mom that afforded her children the luxury to explore the heights of their imaginations. She was the kind of mom that all children wish they had but seldom got or get. And even though she was my aunt and a supermom I being her niece was living in parental poverty.
Parental poverty is a doorway that starves the mind from reaching its full life’s potential. Most times parental poverty emotionally starves children of healthy emotions, as it slowly sends the souls of children into hardship. It cripples children from learning and hampers childhood dreams. It cast shadows over the lives of children and makes them question their existence.
And, sadly, my poor mom never realized the full meaning of being a parent. She never really understood her role as a mom or a single mother. Therefore, she never figured out she was for a temporary moment the captain of her children’s lives. In her efforts to provide for her young she failed to see her children were starving for character building nourishment only a parent could give. And as I grew so did my expectations concerning how my mom should parent me.
I hated my mom for not parenting like her sister. I so desperately wanted to learn how to swim. But my mom’s obligation to keep a roof over our heads and food on the table kept her from fulfilling my wishes. And each time one of my child desires went unmet I began to nurture the love hate emotions I cultivated towards my mom.
I was never easy to get along with. I hated my parents and with the exception of my aunt Pearl and her children I hated the rest of my mom’s family. And most of all I hated being black, therefore, I hated my life. And because my mom lacked experience as a nurturer the demands to shelter and feed became a lethal combination.
My mom had no idea she was killing my spirit when she told others I was retarded. And hearing her unkind words cut deeply. But my will to survive was stronger than the words she expressed to others. My will to succeed was predestined and I knew that!
So when I was a child I made clear to self I was going to be someone special. I was going to give to myself what my mom never gave to me, and rebuild what her mean-spirited words had torn down. I was going to show my mom who was retarded!
My long awaited day of exoneration never came the way I thought. My mom has grown old and is now sickly. I became a parent that also made mistakes. And as my mom’s health continues to decline the thoughts of revenge are replaced with compassion. I no longer seek vindication nor does the thought of it appease my wounded soul. By realizing my mom did the best she could with the understanding she had my broken heart was healed. And in acknowledging her deficiency as my mom her overdrawn parental account is paid in full.
They’re born everyday! They walk among us and they seek who the can destroy. They spiritually feed off misery and the ignorance of others becomes their playground.
Some believe such people come from homes where there is no love and or where hate is taught. But that is not true! Mean-spirited people come from all walks of life. They are born to every race and every gender; and prejudice of any kind makes it harder to discover such people. For example, I learned in the circle I once traveled that all whites were bad, most if not all white men molested children, white people smell, white people have no color, white people are from the devil, and finally “all white people are rich”. And even though I know better now by understanding people are people, there are still people (white, black, blue, purple and brown) that buy into racial nonsense. And that’s the reason I’m blogging about mean people coming from all walks of life. And had it not been for my encounter this past weekend, as a black woman, with a mean-spirited white man I know I would have not come up with such a blog post; because, like I stated, had I not known about the evils of humanity or understood mean-spirited people I could see where the confrontation could have gotten out of control.
The Simple Truth Is
We are all fearfully and wonderfully made. We all have the ability to be bad. We all can become sexually deviant. We all have the capability to smell when we forego bathing. We all have skin pigmentation. We all have the ability to do the devil’s bidding. And not all white people are rich! People are people despite race, creed, religion, gender, and sexual orientation. What make us different spiritually when it comes to our existence are choices. Really, it’s just that simple.
People chose to be cruel. And sadly they use race, gender, sexual preferences, religion, politics and such to carry out their unkind deeds. They’ve rehearsed role-playing so much in their small minds that they seek the perfect conditions to be spirit exterminators. It’s never hard to figure out their agenda after cavy encounters. They’re usually standing/sitting with smirks of satisfactions on their faces. They are usually braggers that are empty vessels. And they try to fill their emptiness by insulting people publicly or privately as they exercise the power of choice.
Never stoop to their level. Recognize mean-spirited people for who they are [empty vessels] and remove yourself from their presence [period].