Everyone has always looked at me and thought of me as being strong. My strength came from fucked life experiences where I had no choice but to be strong or fold to the hatred n anger around. But some people get to a point when being strong is not enough anymore. I’ve cried so many tears that eyes respond to me “bitch please”. My heart doesn’t know what its like to experience love for everytime it has entered my life its caused me the greatest pain. I try to be positive and look forward to a better and happier future. But in return my dreams, my hopes n my desires are taken from me. I hide my pain through my rough exterior and through my sarcasm but lately I’ve discovered “i’m tired”. I’ve given up on love, I’ve given up on friendship, I’ve given up “trying”. What is life without love and no one to share it with? What is a life full of disappointments and rejections?? What is life when you spend most of your time here “fighting” and trying to be accepted? My life!
I struggle some mornings to get out of bed just so the world can show me how worthless and meaningless they view me.
I watch others smile and wonder what it is like to mean it.
I see people in love and wonder what it is like to feel it.
I see others succeed and question why that path was never an option for me.
I wish i could he happy, i wish i could be healthy, i wish i could be loved and admire.
My depression reminds me daily that i am worthless, undervalued and not worthy of anything good in life.
I battle my depression because i want to live and hope that one day the storm clouds, the black and gray would go away.
But as each day passes, i see more and more there is nothing on this earth for me except sadness, abuse and pain.
I spent many years of my life wanting to change my physical appearance to what i think society would accept me as “fair skin, light eyes, long hair, slim “thick” with dimples.
For many years, i never acknowledged that has “self hate” but as a yearn to finally be accepted by my mother and her standards.
My mother never told me i was beautiful, she reminded me EVERYDAY (even on holidays) that i was ugly and worthless.
I’ve always had friends from different races, and saw how sweet, pleasant and loving she was to them.
I envious and jealous of my friends because they had things and were people i wished i could be at the time. I would always dream and wished i could be them in exchange for my mother’s love.
It didnt help that she made sure to point how beautiful my non black and light skin friends were. I knew then i didnt want to date within my race unless he was fair skinned, curly haired and had “good” genes or was mixed.
With my self-hatred i knew i didnt want to bare any dark skinned babies because i wanted them to be “privileged”.
I didnt realize until i got older how much hated for myself i had and never understood how eomen my skin tone or darker celebrated themselves and there beauty.
People always ssy to leave the past in the past. But everyday i realize how much my past damaged me and fucked me up mentality. Now i take ownership and accept myself as is…but i will not lie, i struggle every day to love and accept myself. I pray one day it happens….
After a night of heavy drinking, a woman and a man ventured to another bar in hopes of continuing their fun. The woman asked her man a question where he barked a response at her that made her silent, she walked away from embarrassment.
They reunited by the bar where he continued his verbal assassination against her. After so many words she clapped back, fighting tears that she was tired of being hurt.
He slapped her, took her phone, and keys. But she hid his car keys out of fear he would drive off and leave her there stranded.
He continued his verbal assassination by stating to her…. the reason his dick doesnt stay hard is because hes not sexually attracted to her, shes not beautiful and her pussy stinks.
He then attacked every physical flaw about her and kept announcing her as a “bitch”….an ugly bitch, a dirty bitch, a poor bitch, a bitch no real man wants.
He left her by a park crying. She walked around the waterfront area alone at 3am crying trying to pull herself together enough to find a way home since her phone was taken by him and the area nightlife was closed.
Many men saw her cry and turned a cheek to her. She walked to a nearby hotel still in tears where a lobby security guard called her a cab. The cab driver sae distraught state and decided to overcharge her. At this point, she felt defeated. She walked into the house, asked for her phone where she was greeted with more words of how much of a useless bitch she is. She turned around and verbally assaulted him in retaliation. He knew the details of her troubled home and past and used all of it as ammo to destroy what was left of her.
In that moment, holding back tears, she said to him “i may be damaged but i am not broken and you will not break me”.
She sat her drunk in a warm bath at 5:30 in the morning, quietly crying about the night.
When she woke up on the floor the next morning, he continued to verbally abuse her and told her she needed to get the fuck out, which he knew wasnt possible at that time. The woman and man are a black couple.
When you are black, you are told black people come from royalty. Black men were kings and warriors and black women were queens. If this theory is true, what was it about this woman that constantly made her worthless to so many beginning with her mother? She spent so much of her life WANTING to be wanted, to accepted but most importantly WANTING to be loved and valued. Is she not a queen? They say “in order to be loved, you have to love yourself” but how is that achievable when she was never shown, taught nor given love? She was raised to believed that she would be nothing in life and sadly, she couldve been so much more in life, but she believed it since so many in various stages of her life told her the same things.
She lives her life vicariously through others with no hopes of ever experiencing the love and lifestyle shes always wanted. She feels she doesnt deserve happiness and think love is not a real possibly for her and if it is, she doesnt feel she deserves it. Shes been through so many levels of abuse… spiritually, emotionally and physically that she now believes she hold no worth or value.
She forces herself to dream and fantasize about all the things she wished she had in her real life in hopes that one day the universe would grant her that one wish…
Until then…She will continue her journey…..
Shes a loner in this world who wishes she had girlfriends to turn to but sadly all she has ro rely on is her damaged soul and scorned heart.
The past two years, I have been on a spiritual journey of releasing the demons that has plagued my mind, my spirit and my body.
You tell her you never loved her.
You tell her you don't care for her.
You tell her she is the reason your dick can't get hard.
You tell her you hate her.
You make fun of all of her physical flaws including her surgical scars and stretch marks.
You make fun of the fact she is a survivor of abuse and call her a weak ass victim.
You laugh her for not having a mom and dad like you.
You make fun of her for being fat and having a gut.
As you are spewing this vile to her face, she continues to stand tall, stand proud and stand strong
Even though she wants to break down and cry…..
She accepts your words with no violence
She accepts knowing the truth of how the same man who once claimed to love her truly feel about her.
The sad reality, she walks everyday of her life, ashamed of her flaws.
Seeking to find love within herself to love herself as is.
But in that process, she found herself, in this moment with someone who knew her battles and made sure to go in for the kill.
There is no "I'm sorry" to heal the wounds of hearing a man who she thought was her "king" say to her she has no beauty, she has no worth, she is nothing and to even wish death on her.
Although she walked away, she now has to focus on healing and rebuilding herself and beg to God daily to never place another vile in her life or her next step will be suicide.
I know I will never be famous with my blogs as many people are and that’s fine. I use blogging as a tool to release my inner thoughts. Through my life of trials and tribulations, blogging my emotions during crucial times in my life has saved me. But the thing I don’t understand or will I ever care to is why people don’t stay true to themselves?
I followed a local fashion blogger who sense of style is amazing, her creative ideas in fashion, home decor and candid eye for beautiful photography is breathtaking. She went through an extreme dark period in her life where she became an advocate for mental illness.
During her dark time,she posted battles and challenges she was facing with the “disease” and encourage other women to seek education, help and other aids in avoiding/ dealing with it.
I commended her on it. Through her dark posts, i read interesting personal articles that I could relate to and found myself questioning my thought process. But as I got more involved in her post, I realized they were all posted for attention. She is nothing but a drama queen constantly looking for people to say “oh you’re so perfect, you’re so beautiful” beautiful physically, she is but very deceitful and not real.
During her dark time, I got to know her on a personal level and it made me realized her “mental illness” was self-inflicted because she got caught for being a liar and deceitful.
Personally, no one is perfect and we all cry for love and attention in various ways. A lot of times, not in a positive manner. But I respect those who own their truths whether it’s good or bad.
The major step in changing and fixing the “issue” is admitting your faults. Back to her, she went on this “mental illness” crusade for awhile until she realize it wasn’t winning her fiancé back and her followers didn’t care about her mental health.
They cared more about what she was wearing during her breakdowns. She erased any and everything relating to her journey through this.
The truth is she was never diagnosed with it. Since finding a man to give her time and attention she is (miraculously) no longer ill. Now she is riding a new horse named attention.
The post is my post, stay true to yourself and stay true to who you are. There is nothing worse than being a zombie of society (being someone other than yourself for social acceptance)
I’m sure if she was to read this, she would possibly assume I am jealous. I love bloggers who express THEMSELVES the real them and not facetiously.
Don’t cry rape, mental illness, etc., just to get attention because there are a lot of us who has lived that life and have struggled or is struggling to move on from it.
Be real bitch and stop being fake! If I want to see fake…. I rather follow a minute by minute post on a celebrity.
15 years ago today, life in America changed forever. We went from feeling like “the land of the free” to feeling vulnerable, confused and hurt.
On that day, 15 years ago in New York, I experienced a tragedy of seeing ou beloved Twin Towers burn, I watched people who were trapped on higher floors, plunge to their death, I heard the sound of their bodies crash hard into the ground.
New York has always been known as a rude city, but that day strangers hugged each other while comforting each other. Strangers shed tears together as we watched our skyline burn and people die before our eyes.
That day race wasn’t an issue, what tax bracket you’re apart of didn’t matter, all we cared about was hoping that help arrived quick enough to save those who were trapped.
There were some heartless pricks who ran through the sea of dead bodies grabbing wallets, jewelry, money, cell phones. Anything they saw could be of value.
No one for a second thought the towers would fall and when they did no matter how fast you tried to run the tsunami of debris swallowed you, lifted you up with force and tossed you.
The moment of darkness felt like forever. As we huddle and grabbed someone nearby we assumed it was the apocalypse. When light peaked through the dark cloud. There was a moment of hope. A moment of relief that you were still alive.
The city shut down, the city that never sleeps got some rest and weeped as the body count slowly increased. Those who survived, were quarantined until 2am.
When the quarantine was released, most of us walked to our boroughs. There was limited transportation. Women’s feet were hurting from the stylish shoes they wore that day. Outfits of suits, dresses, shirt and shorts were covered in dust as well as our faces and hair.
Families stood before news camera speaking on their love ones who have never been found, love ones who called moments before they died to tell their families “Goodbye” and “I love you”.
There were walls of memorials throughout the city of those who parished.
September 11th became a day about Rudy Guilani, WTC, NYPD and NYFD, but this day was about The people who died, those who survived, those who were part of that moment from beginning to end.
“We will never forget”