#Bloganuary

What does it mean to live boldly?

”To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all.”

Oscar Wilde

There was a time a few short years ago, when I was making my living by committing crimes, where I really believed I was living my best life. I lived by a code of conduct, I had my hand in a lot cookie jars so to speak. I multi tasked if you will. Anyway, for a while maybe I was living my best life, considering. I always had lots of cash, I was my own boss. I ran my life like I had a legit job. I called customers and promoted my goods, I had a daily log of what came in and what went out. I took profits from one area and reinvested into other areas of my said liking or interest. I collected on debts or accounts owed and kept client relations on a happy note. It was an adventure. Or misadventure. Reckless is what it was. I wouldn’t want to do it again, live like that but I did do things I never thought I’d do, experienced a way of life that is completely outlaw and made some friends with the oldest coolest cats I know. Real OG.

Now, I have to ask myself, am I living boldly now? No. I am living quietly. I am resettling into life. Readjusting. My boyfriend Andy and I don’t go out a lot. I am trying to figure what to do with my life as we speak, poor Andy, he is trying to give me ideas. Its a lot of work, being my boyfriend. As I reflect on this and realize I could be living better, perhaps I will take a moment now and mindfully look at my life. Where could I improve on something, anything? I have to keep into consideration my knee and leg are still unable to carry my weight, so what can I do? I cant drive yet. Well, I did start this blog, or rather just started paying attention to it. So maybe right now, I am doing the best version available of living boldly. I started writing again. I started playing with graphic art again. I think this mindful moment I just had was very productive!

Attention!!

Considering my current situation, I am living boldly! I am taking risks when I post something I write. I love to write. Right now, this is my best life! I am so glad I did today’s prompt. I wrote myself into my my own truth I hadn’t taken the time to see and I am happy to say, this is living boldly for me!!

#Bloganuary prompt

What are 5 things your grateful for today?

  • My freedom
  • Reconciliation with family
  • My boyfriend
  • My car
  • My job

Is it bad that I am doing this in such a quick, fast and uninteresting way? I am behind and am trying to catch up. Let me move on to the next prompt!!

You

I remember you. Is this trembling from fear, or the scent of you. What do I fear? The loss of you. What fears taunt my mind? The loss of you. Oh my love. I love you so. You. Oh the loss of you. So different do we think and so separate do we love. I remember you. When you kissed me for the very first time. Or every first we’ve had together. I remember you. I am so afraid I’m losing you that….. I’m afraid my fears caught up to me and now I am losing you. How do you stop the past from catching up to you and the future from destroying….. you. Is it true? There is no future there never was a future. Not for me and you. I love you. Every part of you. I never was enough for you. You have every part of me. You. I have to let go Tell me how do I stop loving you. You love how I love you. You don’t love me. I have to learn to forget you. But. I remember you. Where is your mind? Where is your heart? I don’t know anything about you. You are the biggest lie I’ve ever sold myself for. Or perhaps I lost you because I am not meant for you. Did I think this into existence? This loss of you? In your heart I know you’ve set your face to loving me but do you really? You. This trembling for the touch of you. I love you. There is so much noise inside my head I often can’t hear you. I don’t know what to believe. I don’t want to ever lose you. When you kiss me, did you know? It’s always like first time with you? Oh I am so afraid. I can’t image a day without you. You. I remember you. Is this trembling from fear, or the scent of you. What do I fear? The loss of you. What fears taunt my mind? The loss of you. Oh my love. I love you so. You. Oh the loss of you. I remember you

#Bloganuary

Prompt of the day

What do people incorrectly assume about me

We don’t know where our first impressions come from or precisely what they mean, so we don’t always appreciate their fragility

Malcolm Gladwell
“God can save the sinner you are, but not the saint you pretend to be.”
― Anthony Bloom

I had my kids in soccer for years in a small town. At that time I didn’t have as many tattoos as I do now,maybe three less. Still, this one particular game that we had won,the other sides coaches, two sisters, approached our side talking loud about our side cheating. It became loud and the kids were asking what was a cheater. I asked if they could discuss it later, not in front of the kids. The shorter one yelled at me to shut up, and actually said “Shut up, you have tattoos and you look like a whore!’ I mean just like that. I know what your probably thinking. What kind of clothes is she wearing? Well I know I had a pair of capris on and it was summer so probably a tshirt. I specifically remember my hair as in two braid because I felt self conscious wearing them. It was something new, I’m sure the ladies will understand! That created a ruckus with a bunch of moms on our side stood up, shout bitch and yelling at each other. It went crazy. I grabbed our coach, and said please don’t, its ok and it isn’t worth it. I think one mom on our side even yelled someone should kick her ass. I calmed everyone down. I remember just feeling shocked, not outraged. I was more upset when my six year daughter asked me what a whore was. I did talk to the soccer league something or other and he apologized on behalf of the league and told me that both girls couldn’t coach the rest of the year. I thanked him and really only think about when kicking back with friends yelling outrageous and funny stories. That was one on the list. Here’s one more. On this day, I was checking out my purchases and was getting off the phone with my husband. I said something like praise the Lord. when I was off the phone she asked if I was a christian. I said yes. She preceded to then say ‘I didn’t think people with tattoos could be Christian.’ This was my response, ‘ Yes ma’am, I am a christian. I’m not worried about this skin, I get a new one in Heaven.’ I don’t remember everything she said but it really could have set me off had I not known that perhaps that day I could show a person with  prejudices against people with tattoos, a different perspective. I was nice and polite to her. I told her Jesus loves me and I love him.I parted ways with her and I felt joy in my heart. Maybe that day she thought about it. If anything my reaction to that conversation will last. Not all people with tattoos are going to hell.

I put my pictures at the top. This is about my tattoos. What were your assumptions?

Now, I must say, that I am very old fashioned. Old school. Respect. You gotta have respect. When I get in those situations, it doesn’t affect me. That could be interpreted that I let people walk all over me, which I am inclined to agree. So, on one hand I do believe that God graced with humility and on the other, I have stayed in abusive relationship far too long. Perhaps it is a little of both. Well , I gotta go. Im trying to catch up Im days behind!

#Bloganuary

What would you tell your teenage self

If I could go back and talk to my teenage self I would like to talk to my 10 year old self. I would say don’t listen to your dad. Don’t! I would tell her to not destroy her trophies, you deserve them. I would tell her not to push away the good things and people, hold onto them. Your family does not define you. Your unique and embrace that. Embrace all that is you. That day you stopped believing in your gifts and talents, when your dad told you that you looked like a fool on you horse and he wouldn’t take you to the horse show, you have to stop believing that. Your dad was just lazy and he didn’t want to take you. Your gifted. I would tell her to always do the right thing. You usually do but there have been a couple times you missed the mark. Stay on your course. You are worthy, you are love able and special! When you start to get really depressed and you don’t talk or move and you isolate yourself, I want you to get help. Talk to someone. If you don’t talk about what is going on it won’t stop and you’ll hate your self more until you start to hurt yourself. Stay in school. Tell your mom and dad you don’t want to homeschool and mark your own way. Create the life you want. Think about it. Picture it. Love yourself. Do daily affirmations, get them from the Bible, from your head, think of ten positive things for every negative you think. Start your book and never stop writing. Believe in yourself. Say it! I BELIEVE IN ME. I CAN DO ANYTHING I AM STRONG I AM SMART I AM A GOOD PERSON I AM LOVED GOOD THINGS ARE LOOKING FOR ME. Say whatever your next thinks up as long as its good. I know you. I know your ur self talk is not positive but I know you want to be different because your are different People love you. You are a light in this world and you shine!!!

#bloganuary

This is how I got my favorite toy, that I called Coyote.

I was a very imaginative ten year old. I would go out in the back yard and gallop like a horse. I set up jumps all over and me and my horse Coyote would run and jump the course. Or we would chase outlaws, or be chased. I loved my imagination. It took me wherever I wanted to go. I was a pretty avid reader as well. One day, a week or or so before Christmas in 1985 my dad came outside and told me to come inside and change, we had to go. I asked him where we were going and in one sentence, one spoken word, my dreams and all my prayers came true. My dad looked down at me and said ‘ We are going to go pick up your horse!’ I tell you the truth when I say I fell to my knees and cried. I cried even more when he told me he was a paint, then I cried more when he told me his name Coyote.

Coyote!

#bloganaury Prompt 6

Who is someone that inspires you and why

My children, my inspiration, my heart and soul

No second thought. No, let me think about it. My children inspire me to become stronger every day. I have made so many bad choices in the last decade that were made in a haze of mental illness that I lost out on so many memories with these beautiful souls. For a while, I stumbled around in self pity. Regret, shame and guilt tormented me. I wrote about in my blog, a few pieces in particular. I wont post a link, but they are there. My oldest wants to read my blog as she believes it will give her insight into my thoughts and feelings while I was away. My divorce hit me at the same time memories I had forgotten forced their way into the forefront of my very life. I was confusing the past with the present. I started using and then selling drugs and at that time I didnt want my kids around me or the kind of people associated with. I certainly didnt want them ever to see mommy using and think it was ok for them to use.It was a real struggle. The desire to be with my children fought hard but ultimately lost at least for a few years. You see, the guilt I felt inside was a complex guilt. Sexual assault victims and children of abuse deal with misplaced guilt, top that off with the guilt of not being around my kids, listen, I hated myself. I tried to overdose on heroin. I dealt with gangs, I went alone to meet with members of gangs. I put myself in so many bad situations with a attitude of Oh Well. I really just didnt care. Then, slowly I had stopped using and was just selling. Theres more to that story as well, Ill tell it another day. As My head cleared and I started to talk to My oldest, I saw her for her birthday in 2018, it was what inspired me to change and get back into my kids’ lives. It is difficult to change from that lifestyle while still selling narcotics. You meet at some strange hours, no 9 to 5 job that is. Well, anyway. God intervened and I was set up by my buyer and the cops surrounded me, faces covered and with dogs. I went to prison. I wrote my kids every single day until I couldnt afford it, the they got something once a month. I stayed out of trouble best I could, let me tell you, prison aint easy, but I had an inspiration. I had a goal. I appreciated the fact that I was away from the business and while in prison, I stayed out of the game, or business as well. I could have used connections I met while there out here if Id wanted to stay in that believe me. I got out and Im here to say I see my kids regularly. Well, my son is in the military but we chat frequently. Both my girls and I spent Christmas together. I have them back and they say they are proud of me. So you know who inspires me, now here’s the why. I want to inspire them! I want them to see their mother, a woman with many roadblocks as an overcomer When life throws them a hardball and it will, they need a strong woman to look up to. I still have things I am battling but instead of a complainer they see a champion, instead of a person that gives up, a formidable woman that pushes on. My son will see that people can change and when someone makes mistakes they can make it right and that I always loved him and always will. This is a short piece I dedicate to love of my life, my kids! Xoxo