Hope, expectations and reality

My soul bleeds across the page that I write.
I have been praying for many nights as of late. Deciphering the pages of my life. It has been some of the hardest pages of any book that I have ever had to read. I would consider myself to be an avid reader, but it is much easier to read fiction or text books then it is to read your own story. If you have read any of my other entries than you have a snapshot into the fragmented story of my life. I suggest that is fragmented because they are only words, verbal paintings, images called the minute details life creates and that I choose to unfold. As I have been reading my story I realize that I need to breathe but I don’t know how.

As much as I share, I share nothing, I share examples and stories but my raw emotions are more than I can ever compose or even know how to ink. Simply fragments and not sure I know who to be whole.


In a chapter of my fragmented life I hurt someone dearly. I must apologize to my daughter.

My youngest seed is so beautiful. I prayed that she should have the spirit of courage and strength because her mother was weak and chose a father for her that would not be able to show her how wonderful she is. I prayed for that gift because I know what it is like to not feel that your Father truly loves you or dotes on you as other girls. And 31 years later it taints every aspect of your life. That is the only aspect of me I’ll share with that one. Reading my story has been intense. But necessary if I am to build my daughters into the women I want them to be or I want to be for myself.

As women we take on so much heartache and grief without remorse or resources to reinforce the strength we deplete. So to all that I love please remember the stories of our lives no matter how painful are necessary for another to become stronger. While I apologize to my daughters I am grateful that I have the scarring to remind them of the beauty of love and how precious and unique they are. Somewhere along the lines of my story I forgot the value of my femininity. While it has been many years since I married and only once that I have loved I understand what it means to take time and heal. I almost made the mistake with my girls and settled with a man that I neither loved nor was compatible with but I felt like it was time to grow up and show them what society deems a family. But with age comes wisdom and I have matured enough to know I could never damage my Queens anymore than I have.
So my story continues and as I read I recognize the themes in my pages I now have respite in my life as a single mother. I used to think I needed love and a mate and now I realize my gifts and stories were planted for other reasons, I champion love and perhaps my experience will help others find the right words for their stories.