I changed the way I prayed. I started kneeling in a submissive position to offer up my prayers. I needed to humble myself because I needed God. I muted everything, so that I wouldn’t have any distractions. Sometimes I had NOTHING on. It brought me closer to God. 

I changed the way I prayed. I stopped asking God to be the conduit of what I needed. I started asking Him to BE what I needed. I needed more than a Healer. I needed God to be my Healing. I needed God to be more than my Provider. I needed Him to be my Provision. 

Since God IS, I needed Him to simply BE…

And as God did His good work with me, I could feel myself changing. Getting better. But I still had my moments. I had moments where clarity was needed. I had moments where hurt and unhappiness crept back into my life. It was getting too much for me. I know God’s timing is perfect. I also knew that “cloud of darkness” continued to engulf me to a point of suffocation. 

I just wanted to breathe! I just wanted to live!

I have a strong support system, but I needed more. I went online to find the perfect fit for a therapist. I then went to my insurance company’s website to make sure the provider I wanted was covered. She was ideal. She had the mental health knowledge accompanied with a spiritual context. Great! And she was covered by insurance company. Great!

But she wasn’t accepting new patients. DANG!

I kept looking. For an hour, I kept looking. Then I found one. No spiritual context, but she had other specialties that I needed AND she was accepting new patients! GREAT! I called and scheduled an appointment for the following week. 

I looked forward to seeing her. I counted down until I saw her. When the day finally came, I even beat her to the office. I thought I would break down and start crying. I felt the tears welling up. But as I began to talk, they never fell. I went into detail about why I was there. I was open. I was honest. She sat and listened. 

When I paused, she gave insight. Some things I already knew. I just had to come to grips with it. Some things were like…AHA!!! Some things I didn’t want to hear, because it wasn’t what I wanted. But I was free to express myself no holds barred! It was such an exhilarating feeling!

There I was, a Black woman. A saved Christian. (Not sure how you can be 1 without the other, but hey!). I love God. I love Jesus. I trust God. I believe in His Word and His promises. He has kept me thus far. 

Now I have a therapist. And that’s ok. God gives us all gifts. We were summoned to “stir” them up. My therapist is simply using hers. 

So I have God, Jesus…and a therapist. 

God is with me all of the time. 

And I get to see my therapist in a few weeks. 

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God, Can You Hear Me?

I’m dying on the inside. Dying. I ain’t never felt like this before. 

Those were the words I wrote while sitting in church last Sunday. I didn’t want to be there, but I knew I had to be there. I walked around simply existing while working through…processing…releasing…surviving…

I questioned God, because I didn’t understand. What was the purpose? Why me? Why did I have to go through this. GOD, WHAT DID I DO?!? I switched up the way I prayed, ensuring that I was specific in my prayer. I used to tell God anyway that He blessed me, I’d be satisfied! But I couldn’t afford to not be specific in this season!

God-can You hear me? 

I cried out to Him. Literally, gutturally CRIED! I wanted to release anything that would come out. I didn’t want to put on a mask. I didn’t want to hide what I was feeling. I didn’t want to put what I was going through aside, because I couldn’t let it fester. I couldn’t let it grow. I had to let it out. 

Yet I still wondered why! Why did God allow me to go through like this?!?

Over the weeks, the pain subsided. Most nights, I was able to fall asleep. I even started eating again. I felt myself getting back to normal. I felt myself beginning to live again. Yet the hurt wasn’t gone. It still reared its ugly head. It still was there. 

God I still wanna know why!

I’m not sure if I’ll ever get an answer. I do know that I will allow myself the continued space and time to process, release and heal. I will not deny my emotions. I will not deny my heart. I refuse to let my hurt turn into hate. 

I just want to get back to “normal”.

So I shift the way I talk to God. I rephrased my need(s) of Him. I don’t need for Him to be my Healer. I need God to be my Healing. I don’t need for Him to be my Provider. I need for Him to be my Provision. I don’t need Him to be the conduit to get what I need. I simply need Him to BE what I need. I know that’s my only way out…

God-please don’t stop listening. 

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I Can’t Stand The Rain

I wanna love. I wanna be loved. I deserve love. 

Right now I feel the walls, aka the world, closing in on me. I’m suffocating in a black cloud of unhappiness. My breathing is labored.  Depression gets stuck in my throat. I just don’t know how to release it. 

It is dark in here. Light illuminates only from the tv screen and computer screen. The clouds shelter the sun. The rain violently hits everything it touches. It’s pouring from the sky. Beating down on the ground. The rain is violently loud. The weather is a mirror of what I’m feeling on the inside. 

Dark. I feel a darkness that I can’t escape. It engulfs my being. I can’t break free of it. Everything that went wrong all went wrong at one time. And I have to deal with it. I’m dealing with it. Im trying to deal with it. It’s dealing with me. It has me numb, yet I still feel pain. I still feel. Pain. I can’t get over it. I can’t escape it. I’m drowning in my pain. I’m drowning in my unhappiness. I’m drowning in my depression. I’m drowning and my happiness was my life jacket. 

The rain outside has subsided. It’s residue remains. Areas are flooded. I can hear the car tires screech through the puddles over the wet concrete. Raindrops drip from the tree leaves. My unhappiness continues to drip and seep through my everyday life. It has me handicapped. I can’t move in the manner that I’m accustomed to. This is NOT me!

I just want me back. I want my old self back. I want my happiness back. I’m tired of being lost in this unknown state. This unknown love. Unloved. I’m trying to decipher the purpose of the season, but I can’t decode it. I asked God WHY??? I still wait on His answer, hoping I didn’t miss it. Hoping there will be an answer. God I need something! I need anything! Please help me! I need YOU!

I need…you. You. You are the answer to the reversal of my unhappiness. There’s no way I feel this way about you for naught. There’s no way I’m going through this treacherous torture not to be happy in the end! With you. There’s gotta be a reason. And if the reason ain’t you, then what is the purpose?

The rain has come back with a vengeance. It violently escapes from the sky. Reigning down harshly on all that it encounters. That it touches. I sit in the darkness, with only the light illuminated from my tv and computer screens. I’m listening to the rain playing it’s hard rock outside of my window pane. I can imagine you’re with her listening to love songs telling her that she completes you and that you’re the love of her life. 

I’m wondering why you haven’t deleted our online playlist yet…

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Friday, May 13, 2019…

I was just existing. It was the last day of the worst month of my life. I was looking forward to June 1st. I was gonna use June 1st as a recalibration of life. I vowed to stay up past midnight, so that I could kiss the month of May goodbye! I never imagined the life-changing event that would occur. 

Hostage situation. Virginia Beach. Municipal building. Phone kept ringing. Folks asking if I was following the story. I was gonna let it play out. Somebody died. Hold on. Pause. What? I quickly turn on the news. 

11 dead. 7 in the hospital. Mass shooting. The worse day for the City of Virginia Beach. Now I’m glued to the news. How did this happen here? We see this happen in other parts of the country. There was Virginia Tech in 2007, but the 757? Hampton Roads? Virginia Beach? The place where you’re fined for cursing on the boardwalk? Virginia Beach? The place that has cops everywhere? Virginia Beach? How us? Why us?

Phone rings again. They just released her. She wasn’t harmed. I thought she worked for a different city! Twitter post. Ex works in that building. Wait? My favorite ex? She said yes, but he made it out safely. This is too close to home. TOO CLOSE!

She heard the pop sounds. Someone rushed in to tell them to run. RUN! All she could think is she just wanted to get home to her family. She just wanted to get home to her family! Fear put into question if that would even happen. She didn’t want to die. 

He had left minutes before the shooting started. After hearing of the shooting, he was trying to reach one of his best friends who worked in the same department. No answer. No response. Nothing. Hours passed. I asked if he had located his friend. Hours passed. He responded he had. Whew! I breathed a sigh of relief. I was glad! His next response: He is with GOD now. My relief turned into grief for a stranger I never met. 

The death count moved up to 12. 12 innocent lives taken. Taken for no good reason! Mental health issues. Evil. Regardless of the reason, their lives shouldn’t have been taken! Their lives were worth so much! I knew that even though I didn’t know them!

Evil reigned on our area on May 31, 2019. It damaged us temporarily, but it didn’t kill us. It didn’t know our resiliency. It didn’t know our unity. It didn’t know our love. It didn’t know our strength. 

We will fight for our healing! We will fight for our sanity! We will fight for the survivors! We will fight for the victims! We will fight for their families. We will grow past this pain and betrayal. 

We will continue to be #VirginiaBeachStrong!

To Laquita C. Brown, Tara Welch Gallagher, Mary Louise Crustinger Gayle, Alexander Mikhail Gusev, Katherine A. Nixon, Richard H. Nettleton, Christopher Kelly Rapp, Ryan Keith Cox, Joshua O. Hardy, Michelle ‘Missy’ Langer, Robert ‘Bobby’ Williams, Herbert ‘Bert’ Snelling…

I speak your name!!! Peacefully rest…

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This month has been arguably the absolute WORSE month of my life! I’ve dealt with the dumbest breakup of one I genuinely loved. The stress of your struggles outweighed the strength of my success. You didn’t realize that if one of us wins, we both win! I didn’t realize the depth of your insecurities. I knew that one day we would claim success as a couple and I looked forward to that day. But you won’t allow that day to come. So… 

Building. It started with conversations. Phone calls. Then meet ups. Just talking. Getting to know each other. Building. Late night beach runs. Sitting in the car when it was too hot. Or on the sand feeling the breeze. One time we even sat on the lifeguard stand people watching and laughing. Building. Restaurants. Trying new spots. Eating chicken dinners at the laundromat while you washed your family’s clothes. ‘Til that one day we decided that we wanted to try this relationship thing. We agreed to build together to see what was ahead in our future. Together. But there was always a tug-of-war with you. 

Warfare. It didn’t take long for me to candidly see the spiritual warfare you encountered. We discussed it. I didn’t totally understand, but I was there. I prayed to God to remove it, because it didn’t seem like God. But you were adamant. So like I told you, I won’t compete with God. I can’t. But for every time you left. You returned. And I was waiting. For every time you left and took too long, I went seeking. And you came back. We did this dance too often. It became routine. I was accustomed to waiting the time out, because we ALWAYS got right back to us. Always. I waited on the day where we would never leave each other and just be blissful in our happiness. I waited on the day where we could plan trips without the fear of you backing out or leaving me. I waited in hopes that I could live out the relationship that I deserved. I waited in vain. You left too soon. 

Abrupt. But our relationship abruptly ended. Finito. It was over. I was out of the country. You were stressed. Guess it seemed like the the walls of this world were closing in on you. And I wasn’t there. Although I was a phone call; a text; an email away. I never ignored, nor blocked, your calls. You didn’t tell me. You made the abrupt decision that it was over. How could I enjoy life while you struggled? I’m sure that was the question running through your head. Ask yourself if I didn’t continuously help you try to come out of the struggle. Was I not your support system? Was I not your rock? How many times did you not have to have “it”, ‘cuz I had you? But that wasn’t enough. I wasn’t enough to overcome whatever insecurities and struggles you faced on a daily basis. I guess you figured we didn’t balanced each other out. I guess you didn’t realize I was holding you up until you could hold it down on your own. So you left me and told me there was no turning back. It was over for us. Permanently. You slammed our door closed. 

Closure. I asked for it. You obliged. You didn’t go into detail. You did tell me she was your ex. Your first love. You didn’t link up until the week after I came back home. You said the timing wasn’t right on those previous occasions when you dated. I assumed your pause was because the timing was right now. I guess that would explain the familiarity that I saw between you two that night. I assume that’s supposed to make me feel better knowing you’ve reconnected with your past, that’s why it’s easier to move on. You spoke with no emotion in your voice. Yet you took issue with my hurt and how I expressed it. But you didn’t take issue with your lies. Your constant lies. You said you would work on yourself and didn’t have time for anybody else. But you made time. You looked me in my eyes, knowing how hurt I was that we were over, and lied to me. Did you think you were sparing my feelings? Or did you think I wouldn’t find out? We were in a public place. A place you didn’t expect me to be. It was a place that I didn’t expect to see…her…and your… I understood your treatment of me before she came that night. I was going to come face-to-face with your lies. This was a night and a hurt that I’ll probably never forget. 

Remember. I remember you talking about your first love. I remember you talking about how volatile the relationship was. How she cheated on you. I remember you telling me you both reconnected later. How she said she was there for the long haul. How she left you. I remember. You will remember too. You will remember how I treated you. You will remember how I loved you. You will remember how I provided for you. You will remember the new experiences I introduced you to. You will remember when you told me no one has ever loved and treated you as well as I do. You will remember the purity of my love. You will remember when you had nothing to offer me, but your love, and how I asked for nothing more. Then you will remember how you threw it away. You will remember how you treated me the month that you broke up with me. You will remember. And you will know…

You will forever regret making the mistake of leaving me. And remember: you have to live with that. 

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I HATE That I Love You

It had been YEARS since I had a heartbreak. It had been so long, I forgot how it felt. I remembered it, but I didn’t feel it. Couldn’t feel it. Didn’t even feel the remnants of it. There was no more love for the person(s) who caused the heartbreak. They say time heals all wounds. In that case, it was true. I had no scars from the past. It was as if that relationship/those relationships never existed. I was so far removed. They didn’t even matter anymore. 

I’ve had some WONDERFUL relationships. I’ve had some to love me immensely, as I have, as well. There are some who consider me their soul mate and would rekindle any fire that may still be there. For when we were together, our fire burned bright! At the height of our relationship, our fire never flickered. No amount of water or wind could douse it out. The love was strong. There didn’t seem to be an end in sight! But…there was always…an end. 

And typically I’m the one that ended it. They were great! I was treated great. I loved. I loved hard. I was loved. I gave all of me while I could. But they all ended. There was a level of unhappiness that I experienced. Should I stay with someone because they were a good person and forfeit my own happiness? I couldn’t. I just couldn’t. And as much as I didn’t want to hurt them, I eventually left. I usually stayed longer than I desired, just so that I wouldn’t hurt them…as much as possible. But there always came a point where I just couldn’t do it anymore. So I had to say goodbye. And I did. 

I left on my own terms. Then there came a time when I didn’t. It had been awhile since I had no say so in a breakup. I try to be intentional with my relationships. Dating is one thing. Being in a relationship is another. 

I met someone. We talked. We stayed up late nights. We learned about each other. We talked about our pasts. We talked about our goals. We talked about our dreams. We talked about our future. That conversation eventually turned into talking about our dreams together. Our future together. And for the first time, I could see it. I could see the joint businesses. I could see the international travel. I could see the growth on so many levels. I could see the family. So we committed to each other. In our hearts, we were committed. 

Everything happened so fast, but the love that I was feeling wasn’t constricted by time and space. It was genuine. It was pure. I wanted to explore the depths of our love. At all costs. Nothing was perfect but our love was. Or so I thought. 

It ended. Abruptly. Lame excuse. Not being honest with me. Left in the dark. There’s somebody new. Denial. I feel it. Denial. There’s no future with us? Can’t even say you love me anymore. Proof that there was someone new. So soon? 





My heart. Broken. Shredded into pieces. How could a love so pure no longer exist? We didn’t even discuss it! What happened? What’s really wrong?!? How can you say we can’t fix it? You didn’t even try! You didn’t even tell me there were issues! I didn’t even see the signs! Why don’t you want me anymore???

My poor heart. I loved you. I…love…you. It doesn’t seem fair. Why did God allow me to fall in love with you if it wasn’t going to last? What did I do to deserve such heartbreak? I was doing alright by myself! Why am I still in love with you, when it feels like you don’t even care for me anymore?!?


I just don’t know how to stop loving you. Nor do I want to stop.

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Does Money Matter?

You work hard. You’ve gone to school. Gotten that education. Some of it may have been on-the-job type learning. You’ve worked your way up to a comfortable means of living. You can take care of all of your bills PLUS do some fun things if you want! From a financial standpoint, life is good for you. It could always be better. Shucks! Who wouldn’t take more money? But it’s good! You’re not struggling. You’re better off than you’ve ever been! So what do you do when the person you’re dating is not in the same position?

I dated someone in the service industry, making a single digit per hour amount. In 2019,  I can see how hard that would be to maintain a lifestyle! They existed in a “robbing Peter to pay Paul” type situation. There was always a bill to pay. There were bills always due. There was always car issues. I even received an email that the phone was cut off until payday. Yikes! Life was a constant struggle. There seemed to be no end in sight for the struggle. Struggles. Issues weren’t isolated. The lack of money always caused issues. ALWAYS!

Finances can cause havoc in a relationship. I’ll get to that later. Finances can cause havoc on someone’s mental. Date nights decreased. The bank account was consistently on $0 or in the negative. The stress of the bills piling up…the hours decreasing…took over the mind. There were times when food wasn’t in the house. How productive can one be on an empty stomach? Feelings of a failure were constant. And I can understand why. I can understand how. So what role do I play in this situation?

I tried to help when I could. Where I could. I offered to assist with things that I knew about. Sometimes I just gave to be giving. If anything was ever asked of me, I gave with no expectation in return. Most times I loaned money. Most times I never got that money back. I looked for jobs and sent openings via text or email. I even updated the resume! There was a callback from the first company who received that resume! The interviews started coming! Some even called back for a second interview! But no new job offers came through. None! But I was the supportive partner. I gave encouragement on every front. I even gave pep talks pre and post interviews. I released any expectations of spending on me financially. I tried. I really tried. 

Yet finances still caused havoc in the relationship. The stress of being broke and underemployed seeped into the relationship. There were questions on HOW I spent my money. The money that I earned working more than 40 hours a week, yet only getting paid 40 hours per week. I didn’t ask for any financial assistance, knowing the present situation. I didn’t complain about any of my issues or bills, because I knew that mine were minuscule compared to… Yet money would always be a topic. The lack of money would always be an issue. It was as if I was expected to share in the burden. But I thought I was. 

I thought I was helping when help was needed. What I didn’t know was there was an expectation of me to cut out the “fun” ways of spending my money. But why?!? Because of their financial issues, should I give up my enjoyment in life? Should I dismiss those things that alleviated the stress of working so hard/so much? Should my travel plans be cancelled, even though they were made before the relationship?

I may not get the answers to those questions. They couldn’t be honest with themselves, so they couldn’t be honest with me. It was easier to leave, rather than watch me enjoy a life that I work for daily. It was in that moment that I realized that looking at my success highlighted their current lack of success. And what should have been a motivating factor simply backfired. 

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The Perils of Breaking Your Standards

We all have a type. I guess I do too. I think I have types. I’m versatile. When I think about a “type”, I’m thinking more physically. That may not be the case for all, but it is the case for me. I’m not stuck on a physical type, because I can find beauty in all. 

The issue is not my type but my standard. You know…job, car, own place to live, Christian. Things like that. Education is important, yet I know some folks didn’t go to college, for whatever reason. We don’t need an institution to educate us with all of these free resources available. With a job, I prefer it be one where the other isn’t living paycheck-to-paycheck. It should come with benefits, at least health benefits. Insurance is just too high in America!!! I live in a region where having a car is a necessity. Plus, as a woman, I’m not into chauffeuring someone all of the time. Whereas, I don’t mind driving, it’s nice to be picked up at times. I don’t think I realize how many people live with a parent or a relative…how many people don’t have their name on a lease or mortgage! And our religious beliefs have to align. My spirituality is at the core of who I am. If we don’t have agreement on their realm, how are we going to last?

So herein lies the problem. Too often, I’ve shoved my standards to the side. Too many from my past couldn’t check off too many of the blocks. I tried to look at the potential of the person. Potential. We all have it. At this age and stage, we need to be actualizing our potential instead of constantly talking about it. I’ve met some who didn’t have the prior support needed to motivate them to the next level. Guess I tried to be that motivation for them. At some point, a person’s own motivation has to be the fuel to light their potential. 

If you’re the smartest person in the circle, you need to change your circle. I’ve realized that some are attracted to me because of the things they don’t possess. I have a loving family. We are a close knit family. If I need anything, I can simply go to my mother. I still get Valentine and Easter gifts! I work hard and reward myself when I deem fit. I don’t work just to pay bills. I enjoy living life. I like to travel; explore new cultures. I try to be an all-around person. People see that. They see that life is working for me. And they want a piece of that. And somehow we connect on a level that isn’t parallel to the standards I want in a mate. And since I’m not a shallow person, I give in. I give in. 

What has giving in gotten me? Heartache. Unhappiness. Unfulfilled. Miserable. Lonely. Alone. Single. What I mean is it’s gotten me nowhere. I lowered my standards for those who benefited from who I was. Yet I didn’t benefit from them. It was like I was working within a false narrative, hoping that it would eventually turn into a reality. It never did. It never does. It never will…probably. Lowering my standards has allowed others to grow in who they are, whilst preparing themselves for their next venture…I mean relationship. I’ve created “better” people for the next person. And I still sit here single and by myself. 

The perils of lowering my standards have simply left me outback while others bask in their present happiness. 

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Suicide is Painless

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Hurt. Hurting. I didn’t know how to stop. Nothing in life was going right. I was displeasing everybody. It was as if life had me pinned in a corner. What do I do? What could I do? There was only 1 answer: suicide. 

The first time I thought about taking my life, I didn’t. But the issues didn’t stop. I was engulfed in unhappiness. I asked God why. I wasn’t getting any answers. I was fighting for my happiness, but unhappiness was around every corner. And I thought about suicide again. It was as if I was getting the strength to actually do it. The thoughts kept coming. They were coming more frequently. 

There was a point where I got scared. It seemed as if the act of taking my life was becoming more realistic. I was trying to figure out what I needed to do to get my affairs in order. I didn’t want to cause anyone else pain, but I needed mine to go away. And it wouldn’t. It just wouldn’t. 

I had to tell someone. I figured if I told someone, then I wouldn’t do it. I also figured if I didn’t have a recent death in my family, then it would’ve probably been done. And that scares me. What if enough time passes…but this hurt and pain does not? Will those thoughts come rushing back to me? How could I let others impact my happiness like that? Why? Why me? Why now at this stage in life?!?

I don’t wanna die. But I don’t wanna continue to hurt either…

Acknowledging My Unhappiness

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I’ve been existing in some sort of level of unhappiness for awhile now. Although the cause was a central one, the perpetrators adding to my unhappiness varied. There was a point where I was suffocating. I felt that I couldn’t breathe. I prayed for peace. I prayed for understanding. I prayed for a sign. Last night, I received my sign. It came from the 1 person least expected. I held on to the lies hoping that a love once shared held some sort of truth. I was looked in my eyes…and lied to. My instincts have never failed me, but I prayed that they would this time. As I was exiting to get your gift, that’s where I saw her. And saw you. I asked you. On more than 1 occasion, I asked you. You lied. Now confronted with your lie, you had no words for me. The lines were clearly drawn. 

I lowered my standards for you. You didn’t rate my love, nor my time, but I saw past it all and thought I had a piece of your heart. I felt that a future was possible and was willing to work towards it. The problem is we weren’t equally yoked. There was no way that you could match what I brought to the table. I brought the table and the chairs and you only brought yourself. When you have no baggage, it’s easy to move on. But you ain’t have to lie! Any hurt I now feel will dissipate. Any feelings for you will turn into 1 stop before hate. I’m looking forward to getting to that numb stage. You will have your own stage when karma rears it’s head. It is at that point where the unhappiness will change hands…hearts. By then, I’ll be dead to you. 

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