Looking in the rear view

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Today marks 1 month since my faith was seriously tested. On January 27, 2020 around 7:30pm I was driving with my sister and three young children. We were rear ended and then we hit the van in front of us. I can still remember the  disoriented feeling, the sent of intense heat and fumes. I cringe and shutter every time I think about it because it’s so vivid in my mind.

I remember looking behind of me and seeing my 4-year-old face full of blood, my 3-year-old looked fine, and my 1-year-old’s rear facing carseat was slightly elevated and his legs were dangling up in the air a bit. I later found out he had a bruise and cut on his forehead.

I couldn’t get the door behind me open and as I frantically began to undo my kids’ carseat buckles, a panicked man furiously tried to pry the other backdoor open. When that didn’t work he banged the glass in attempts to free my baby boy but nothing. I eventually handed my daughters one by one to strangers who waited by the passenger door. I held on to my son.

We huddled in a ditch next to the wreck. There were so many people there, helping, coving my kids with blankets, PRAYING OVER US. My son began to go limp in my arms. From crying and clutching me tightly, his grip loosened and his eyes began to roll back into his head. I thought, no God, NOT MY SON. I prayed, that was the only thing I could do in such a helpless moment. Some of our rescuers began to join me and my son gained back his strength.

Shortly after that, the man we hit came over and began checking my kids. He was an EMT in training. He checked them for any signs of trauma to their neck, ribs, and stomach. There was none. I just remember feeling so grateful that when the police arrived and asked if we were ok, I walked off and began shouting, “In Jesus name we are fine. God is good!”

I didn’t feel fear in that moment. Nothing in the world seemed to matter. All I could think about was how blessed we were to be alive. Seeing the car and feeling like we were hit with an explosion, I knew it wasn’t anything short of a Miracle.

My faith kept me sane in the crucial moments after the crash. So many questions come up after seeing the car. There was a lot of impossible things that happened that night.

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Check out photos of the car Here

Hear more details Here

Please drive safe and NEVER drive distracted. We were blessed to literally walk out of that car alive.

We are all doing okay. Driving now does get me anxious but I can’t be afraid of being behind the wheel or even in a vehicle. Mentally, I have to pray everyday about the crash because I am traumatized. It’s a lot more mentally taxing than I anticipated. You never get over the event.

I just wanted to make a quick post so as always (HUGGZ & LOVE)

God’s blessings during a hard season

Encouraging, Faith, Uncategorized

 

I have been struggling lately. Between work and financial demands, I was just tired. I’m not at a point in my life where things get me down easily, so understand me when I say the last few weeks have been draining.

In the midst of it all, God reminded me to be faithful and not be shaken by all the chaos around me. I decided to pray it out and worship God in the storm. I brought flowers to work one day for a few coworkers, then a few days later had a bucket of chocolate for my coworkers to take from, and the next week I gave out flowers and cards to everyone. I truly believe that’s why God has been blessing me this week.

I got a financial blessing this past Wednesday, then Thursday I was blessed TWICE. One of the blessings was a Christmas tree. Being that money seemed to be getting pulled out from under my twin and I(we live together), we decided that a Christmas tree was a luxury and we honestly couldn’t afford it. But Thursday my sister got a call from our cousin, who is her best friend, saying that she bought us a tree and it was coming Saturday. The extra beauty of it is that that’s when I was to pick up presents from my church family for my kids!

God made it so we had a tree on the exact day I was going to get the gifts. It might seem simple, especially when so many horrible things are happening in the world, but I hang on to any little glimmers of hope that God is hearing my prayers and has not forsaken me. Do I need a few things, yes, but I know in due time God will bless me.

I hope that this brings encouragement to anyone having a hard time this Christmas season. Don’t worry about anything but PRAY ABOUT EVERYTHING! Don’t forget to click the link for the full testimony.

 

As always ((HUGS AND LOVE))

 

 

Listening ears on: God told me to visit my ex in-laws.

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Being human is hard. Add being a Christian and you have a whole list of rules and regulations you must follow in order to truly be a follower of Christ. Usually, especially now, doing the right thing and being sweet and kind has come easily. Even things that would trigger me, just goes over my head and I say a prayer in my mind, grin, and keep it moving. Last week however, I was thrown a curve ball that I really just wanted to dodge.

My ex told me that his parents were going to be cooking a big meal and asked if the kids and I would come over. Without hesitation, I said NO. I mean, why would I? Besides the fact that I’d have to drive over 45 minutes, I’d have to come in close contact with the family of the man I abruptly left in the middle of the night, with a week’s worth of clothing, and my kids. It wasn’t exactly a peaceful breakup and I found myself on the hated end of the stick. His father had a lot to say about me in the past and would quickly jump on social media in defense of his son, whenever I was the topic of a falsified rant.

I insisted that I had no business going there and I prayed to God that some crazy occurrence would happen so it would be set in stone that I couldn’t go. Be careful what you pray for because four days later a tropical storm came through AND a tornado happened 9 minutes away from us. We were obviously spared and I thought that was God’s answer to my prayers– no honestly! You want to know something? It wasn’t.

My ex told me he would be getting out of work early so he could take us if I didn’t feel like driving. I told him that was great because that meant he could take the kids and leave me out of the equation. He seemed hurt and told me not to be that way. They weren’t my family and I remember how dysfunctional it was when all of us lived together. I did not want to go so I purposely ignored all my ex’s text after that.

You know, God works in very BLUNT ways and as I headed to the bathroom I heard, “Go” in a vey soft voice. Now, don’t call the luny bin on me but I heard it clearly. I remember saying, “yeah right, God. You would never want me to go there.” I then saw a vision of me walking into their home and a voice said, “Go, so they can see all I’ve done for you. Go to be a light. ” Guys, I laughed so hard and said NO! Then I tried to convince myself that I was the one creating the instructions that I had but when I said the word “Go” in my mind it sounded different from what I first heard. This was not something I wanted to be obedient to. I didn’t want to feel uncomfortable and I didn’t want to break bread with my ex’s family.

When my ex arrived, I grabbed my purse and roughly told him to hurry up and let’s go. He was shocked but he got up from the chair quickly and we headed to me car. Once we were all buckled and ready to go, my ex thanked me for going. I heard a voice say, “I told you.” I rolled my eyes and replied ok God, of course in my head because I didn’t want to sound crazy. 😂

The drive down was actually enjoyable and I didn’t find myself ready to jump out the car or complain to the heavens. But when we got to his parents house I found myself feeling uncomfortable and nervous. My girls rushed inside and I bought myself time by getting my son out of his carseat. Surprisingly, I was greeted genuinely and asked if I wanted some food and my ex made me a plate. I can’t even lie, for a second I thought they were trying to poison me so I asked my kids if they wanted some food and when no one screamed out “No”, I knew that the food wasn’t unsafe to eat.

I stayed for maybe an hour and a half and I watched as my kids enthusiastically ran around and played with the side of their family they hadn’t seen for so long. I felt relieved. My kids were so happy and I felt good. I talked with everyone and at no point did I want to run for the door. When I left I almost felt sad. His dad thanked me for coming and said we could do something for Christmas if I had no plans.

Before last Sunday, I had so much anger towards my ex father in-law. I was upset because he knew what I went through with his son and he completely turned against me when I left. I was mad and hurt and really wanted nothing to do with him ever again. Visiting him was a healing moment for me. It thought me forgiveness in a way I did think I needed. There is so much truth in forgiveness being for you and not the other person. I was released from the grip of anger.

If there’s anyone you need to forgive, whether they said you an open invitation or not, forgive them. Listen to the voice inside that sounds crazy because it goes against every logical thing you believe in. I listened to God and went somewhere I DID NOT want to go and it ended up being a beautiful moment for me.

I hope you liked this post and as always Hugs and Love!

By Faith and not by sight

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I remember growing up super poor. My mother always made our situation seem okay because she would say things like, “God will make a way. He’ll provide.” And though my younger self knew about God it was beyond my comprehension how God would provide us with food but he did. One Christmas we had no money for toys or food and my sisters and I had given up hope of having an enjoyable Christmas. I think I prayed and then figured God was too busy to help us. The day before Christmas, my mother’s carpentry teacher surprised us with a Christmas tree, toys, and food. He met my mother through class maybe 3 months before. A class my mother was never supposed to take but choose because her first choice wasn’t starting yet. Coincidence, I think not.

I’m a mother now, and there are days I cry and wonder how am I going to get this or that done. Money and resources are tight! One thing that never is tight is my constant need to pray. I pray about everything from not having to use the bathroom at work for #2(seriously) to how I’m going to make an income from my talent. It’s not easy for me to pray sometimes. Not because I don’t want to but because it feels like, “Hey, it’s me again.” It sometimes feels like I’m being a bother but what’s funny is whenever I think that my prayers go unanswered. Then I think that it was because I was never meant to have whatever it is I prayed for.

Even though I seem to forget at times, the prayers that get answered aren’t the ones where I beg God for anything but when I tell him I truly believe he will answer my prayers and I thank him for it. And let’s not forget when I demanded he give me a car and  God answered my prayers!

Through so many crazy situations that there was no way I could get through but with a miracle, I had to put my full trust in him and let him give me what he wanted for me. I needed a car and I thought I’d get a beat up one that had 3 more years left in it but I got a brand new one. I needed an apartment and I thought that my sister and I would get the $900 Because we couldn’t afford the one over $1000 but here were are living in an almost $1300 apartment that by only the grace of God we can pay every month. When I was okay with settling, God slapped my outreached hand and said, “that’s too small, I want to give you something bigger.” I can’t lie in the moments of not getting what I prayed for right away, I felt like a little girl again. It felt like the days where I was so hungry and didn’t think we’d eat for days but out of nowhere someone would give my mother money or food they didn’t need. I had to believe with all my heart that there was something more God wanted to give me and waiting would not last forever but he’d deliver his perfect gift right on time.

In this time where I wonder about money and pray to get to gain income from my writing, I know that I just have to wait a little longer. He wants something big for me that I can’t see yet. I trust and believe that with everything in me.

I pray that if you are thinking about something that makes you want to give up, just pray and wait. Every door that’s meant to be opened will open. God bless. And as always((HUGGS & LOVE))

Never give up

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Can I be honest with you? There are days where I feel completely out of it. I mean low down in the dumps. Sometimes, I think about all the things I thought I’d have accomplished by now. I was suppose to be a successful writer, my social media presence was suppose to have sky rocketed, I’d have become a full time entrepreneur, bought a house— blah, blah, blah.

I had dreams—a vision for my life that I’m not seeing now. I can’t lie, I’ve whined and cried about it. Honestly, I sometimes get so heart broken about where I’m at now, that I forgot where I’ve been. It can be hard to look around and fully grasp the extent of actual success because we think success is a brand new car wrapped up in a giant bow.

Not all success can be measured by some huge act, event, or object. A year ago, I had just started a new job almost two months after I left a toxic relationship. I had about $40 to my name around this time last year, which I used to catch the bus with my then two and three year old daughters. I didn’t even know how to drive and I was living at my cousin’s house. Now, I’ve been at my job a year, I got my license, got a car, I have my own place, and I’m working on my second fictional book.

I can’t deny that even though I had an idea of what my life was suppose to be, what I’ve overcome is extremely impressive. Slowly, I’m realizing that my life is coming together but God had to get the important things done first. I just kept pushing, I kept going despite all my hurdles. I know that if I continue to push for more, I’ll get more. I simply can’t give up. In the mist of the storm it’s hard to see let alone imagine the sunshine but it will come again.

I hope that whatever it is you may be facing, you keep going strong. And like always, ((HUGGS & LOVE))

 

The struggle of creating a freelance writing career

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Over two and a half years ago, I decided that I wanted to become a blogger in attempts to take writing more seriously. Initially, I never intended or cared to make money from or through my blogs. At the time, just being able to write something constantly was amazing to me. I got to connect with so many great people and share my life and imagination with them.

What I really wanted to do at that time was get a feel for writing regularly so I could get in the grove of writing my fiction books. I also created a Short story blog in order to get comfortable with creating new worlds and see if my writing sucked so I could give it up if people hated it. 😂 Luckily, no one had any bad things to say and I was creating new short stories every week.

Soon after creating my blogs, I learned that I could make money from my blogs so I got excited. I knew I had to grow my audience for this, so I researched how to grow my audience steadily. Really all I had to do was create content and interact with other bloggers but I just “knew” I could find some magic formula for that somewhere. I began to focus more on the what if’s and ended up neglecting my blogs terribly. Throw a crazy relationship and kids in the mix and soon the idea of having a successful blog was a fantasy.

Through my many hours of researching, I found that I could submit fiction and nonfiction stories to magazines and other blogs and get paid. So once I got my writing mojo back, instead of writing for myself, I began writing solely with the hopes of getting published and paid by larger platforms so they could tell all their readers about my blogs— my dead blogs. I did write on my blogs here and there but kept the good stuff for submitting elsewhere.

I submitted my work constantly. Rejection after rejection came in especially with my personal essays, the very same essays that I initially wrote to share on my personal blog. The tone just wasn’t right—great story though. That’s basically what everyone was saying. I went through stages of grief getting those rejections. I must really suck, went through my mind every time. It’s not like my freelance career didn’t yield me any income BUT every…single…thing I planned on putting on my blog first was getting rejected. I was crushed.

Then it hit me. Where can I get published? How can I submit without the fear of rejection? “Work with what you have”, came to mind. My blog! That’s where it all started. Sharing my story as an aspiring entrepreneur mom was the entire point of my blog. The ups and downs of motherhood and making money outside of a 9-5 was a journey I wanted to go on with my readers. Crazy how the very same place I ran from is the one place where I knew I’d be accepted. Forget the money, I want to be to be loyal to what I intended to be a genuine representation of my life, not some fluff pieces about parenting and pregnancy being a walk in the park surrounded by bunnies and rainbows.

I won’t stop submitting my short stories and fiction writing but every personal piece will only be shared on this blog. I’m sure they won’t always get rejections but I think I rather share my real truth without the possibility of getting published and still get some of my work edited out to appease readers that might not want to read the TRUE realities of other parents. Sorry, I cannot be silenced.

All of this isn’t to say that other writers won’t find success writing about their lives. This is my experience. I don’t want to mold my life in a cookie cutter way because I’m afraid that others will find it to difficult to understand. Life for me has been HARD. As a mother, I’ve been through so many painful things. So, because my readers have been so supportive, I rather share it with all of you with hopes that sharing could help someone in their own life.

Thank you so much for reading and as always ((HUGGS & LOVE))

Giving birth made me look at my body differently… but in a good way.

Body Image, Encouraging, Motherhood, Parenting, Uncategorized

From as way back as I can remember, I always had an obsession with my image. Being the daughter of a black woman and a Puerto Rican father, who looked like a Taino Indian, there was a “look” I was suppose to have. Of course, I didn’t create that idea, instead it was implanted in me by my elementary school classmates and random people I met growing up.

I remember being told, quite often, that I couldn’t be hispanic because I wasn’t light skinned. They expected me to be Selena Gomez’s when, mind you, my mother’s skin color is comparable to Denzel Washington’s and my father was darker than her! Sadly, it didn’t stop there. You see, my father had long, straight, black hair and I don’t. So, it became “you can’t be hispanic because your hair is too nappy.” As a seven-year-old, those words knocked bits of my self esteem away.

Fast forward three years later when puberty started. When I was younger, I expected to look a certain way physique-wise. I had been surrounded by voluptuous women my entire life and when little lumps appeared on my chest, I thought I’d be a D cup the very next day. Okay, maybe not the next day but when an entire year had passed and I resorted to stuffing my bra with toilet paper, I knew something was up.

A lot of the other girls in class seemed fully developed and I felt like nothing had changed for me. I’d overhear them talking about how annoying bras were while my bra was really just for show, a placeholder for what could be. I couldn’t understand how I had started puberty earlier than most of my classmates and was now the hare losing the race. The body I dreamed of was just that— a dream.

My teen years weren’t any better. The taller I got the more my weight evened out around my body. Being tall plus having a fast metabolism equaled out to be for one very skinny me. I was embarrassed. How in the world was I still looking like a little girl when I was supposed to be blooming into womanhood? I was pissed off and I was jealous, jealous of every girl that didn’t have my struggle.

I would see other females and pick out the parts of their bodies that I liked and imagined how I’d look with them. I was creating a Dena-Stein monster in my head. Even at seventeen I was sure that I’d still have a chance of looking like everyone else. But puberty was done. My body had missed the train to Voluptuous Vile and I was stuck in a body I did not want.

I was able to give myself some reassurance that my body wasn’t all bad. I had a thing for how I looked in lingerie and by gully I bought so many pairs of matching sexy underwear that I own less actual articles of clothing. But I didn’t care. You could’ve told me to wear bikinis everywhere I went and I would’ve gladly done it. My past boyfriends always complimented me on my pretty underwear and it felt amazing. Really, I should have known it wasn’t the underwear they were excited about.

I was searching for any reason to simply like my body. I was tall and thin and though I started getting praise for it by older women and mothers who just couldn’t lose their baby weight, I hated my body. I didn’t want it. I wanted the body I was so sure I would get once puberty hit. I didn’t get that and I resented every bit of the body I felt I was punished with. I was desperate to feel proud of it but I couldn’t help but loathe it.

I was like a spoiled child not getting what they wanted from the store when there was no promise of getting anything to begin with. I’d throw tantrums in the bathroom when the jeans I had just bought didn’t fit right or my bra didn’t quite hug my barely there girls. As dramatic as I acted, no one truly knew how I felt about my body and I tried really hard not to roll my eyes at comments like, “You’re so lucky! You can eat whatever you want and not gain a pound.” I didn’t feel lucky, I felt plagued.

The grass wasn’t green on my side, in fact it was brown! Sure, I got into a relationship with a guy that loved all of me but he was over 300 lbs and hated his own body. We were an insecure mess but I loved him just as he was and he loved me the same. It’s a strange thing to come across someone the complete opposite as you but they have the same body image crisis. It’s like the universe brought us together to learn from each other or as a joke.

About three years after we got together, I became pregnant with our daughter. After feelings of fright and excitement came thoughts of my perfect body. “All pregnant people gained a ton of weight”, I thought. Finally, I was going to gain weight! I was actually looking forward to that. Imagine my surprise when I found out that’s not how pregnancy worked and even with a bun in the oven, every body is not created equally.

Normally, I weighed 141 pounds the highest my weight got, while pregnant, was 156 pounds. The crazy thing is, I gained 15 pounds but my pants were falling off of me and shirts that were tight around my arms were now loose fitted. No doubt about it, I was upset. The one sure way for me to get child bearing hips didn’t work! My body had the audacity to betray me?! I felt defeated.

After my nine month pity party, labor and delivery went easy enough. It’s funny how at no point during my thirteen hour ordeal did I think about how my body looked. Not when the EMTs wheeled me into the hospital and told me how “lucky” I was to look four months pregnant instead of 39 weeks. Nor was I thinking about my physical appearance when my stomach felt like it was getting ripped apart or when I was in my birthday suit with strangers huddled around me screaming “PUSH.” Oh, no. I just hoped that my body wouldn’t fail me— that it would dig strength from the depths of my soul to help me bring my baby into the world.

As I laid with a tiny person on my chest, I couldn’t help but look at my sagging stomach with no regrets. And when a TV commercial came on for wounded soldiers and then for breast cancer survivors, I couldn’t help but weep. I was holding a life that the body I rejected created. How could I have been so ungrateful? I hadn’t gone through war that left me disabled or gone through a life threatening disease but somehow I had less of an appreciation for my body than the people who did. They were happy that their bodies survived— that they survived. Their bodies mustered up the strength to keep going. I cried and I cried.

When you look at life through insecure glasses, you tend to find every pathetic flaw within yourself. You build this idea that first and foremost you must be good enough for everyone else. You create the assumption that somehow what others think of you is more important than what you think of yourself. From an early age, lies about who I was suppose to be trickled into my mind and created a flood of unnecessary and preventable insecurities. Even on the days that I felt beautiful, I worried about whether or not others would think the same thing.

It took giving birth and being in such an open and exposed state for me to fall so madly in love with every part of me. It didn’t come from a family member, or friend, or even from a significant other. It came from the very body that was no good to me for years. There’s a certain kind of freedom that comes from being released mentally from something that weighed you done all your life. My body impressed me more in those thirteen hours than it did for twenty four years.

I’m not saying that if I woke up with junk in the trunk I wouldn’t be excited. What I am saying is that I love the body I have for what it is now. However it changes, I’ll love it then, too. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to tweak your body here and there: Get some abs, tone up, get a bigger butt(wink wink). I’ve just learned that I have to want it for myself and make sure it’s not some idea someone else tried shoving down my throat because they think God created me jacked up.

I’m unapologetically showing off my thin frame with pride, with the knowledge that it kicks ass. Yes, I am “lucky” to have my body but not because I’m skinny. I’m lucky because it hasn’t failed me— because after all those years of completely hating what I considered a corpse, I realized how valuable it is. I look back now and pity myself. I spent so much of my life incredibly insecure for no reason.

Now, I go out of my way to tell women how beautiful they are. It doesn’t matter if I know them or not. I struggled in silence pretending to have all the confidence in the world and if I had genuine compliments instead of sugar coated insults, growing up would have been a lot easier. The truth is, there’s no such thing as the perfect body. As cheesy as it may sound, we are different and that should be celebrated not judged. Heck, if you’re the only one celebrating your body that’s really all that matters. I learned that what I think of myself is far more important than what others think of me. Others might come to that conclusion in some other way but as long as they do, it’s a major win!

How Pregnancy affected my oral health

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I want to start off by saying that my teeth were never perfect. Since I was little, it was always pretty easy to crack or chip them while eating seemly normal foods. I also want to say that I had a horrible sweet tooth which lead to my first cavity when I was a teenager.

Honestly, if the tooth wasn’t a bother whether chipped, cracked, or containg a cavity I thought it couldn’t get worse. So I brushed, flossed, and swished burning peppermint mouth wash in attempts to maintain all my healthy teeth.

When I got pregnant for the first time that’s when I noticed a change with my teeth and gums. I got toothaches more frequently and seemingly with out cause. I didn’t see any new cavities or or had chipped any more teeth. Still, it felt like there was a monster inside my gums that was trying to break out.

Chocolate, my favorite treat, made me gag. I could bearly stomach anything that wasn’t fruit or grape juice. I was up chuckling atleast six times a day from either more sickness or acid reflux. At this point, my teeth were all still pretty much intact.

Last year my third and last child was born. My pregnancy with him had to be the hardest, both physically and mentally. I was stressed, severely depressed, raising two other children and dealing with a toxic relationship. I had so much on my plate and my teeth just added to the list.

When I started having morning sickness, it was the worst I ever had. In less than a week and a half I dropped from 141lbs to 119. The only thing I could consume for over a month was powerade and salt and vinegar chips. I couldn’t eat any type of meat because the smell alone sent me over the toilet. I was throwing up ten to fifteen times a day. I thought I was dying.

If that wasn’t damaging enough to my teeth, I also suffered from extreme dry mouth and I began grinding my teeth in my sleep. The grinding was so bad I’d wake up with chipped tooth fragments in my mouth. I noticed that my teeth began breaking apart during any type of chew. Pieces of my teeth would even get lodged in my chewing gum.

I wanted to go to a dentist but I didn’t. Between my kids and putting up with my ex, I just never made a visit. It shattered my self esteem. I’d look in the mirror and want to cry.

Recently, I decided to visit a dentist. I’m at a better place mentally and physically now so I thought it was finally time to fix the chaos that had occurred in my mouth. I want my complete confidence back and going to the dentist was suppose to do that.

I was super excited for my first visit. The dental assistant did lots of xrays and took many pictures. I was feeling hopeful. When the dentist came, she laid out flat. I was going to need teeth pulled, and have crowns done. My teeth are in such bad shape that she needed more time to determine what I needed to get done. I wanted to burst into tears. I felt hopeless and wanted to run home to eat every ounce of sugar I could because heck, if I was going to loose so many of my teeth, what would it matter?

I didn’t go on a candy binge because it would have defeated what I wanted to accomplish: gain healthy teeth and gums. I wish I knew more about how pregnancy affected dental health. That hormones would be just as big a factor as morning sickness. I wish I had been more proactive. Now, I have to suffer the consequences.

You May read this and think, “hey, it’s your own fault.” You could also be reading this as someone who’s been through it. Regardless, you’re reading this. I don’t here much women talk about it but it’s a real thing. As awesome as pregnancy is, it can have a serious affect on your teeth. I hope more people talk about it. As for me, I’ll continue to work on providing aware.

You can check out my video about this here

As always guys ((HUGGS and LOVE))

Lost in the choas

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I don’t always feel like a complete failure but when I do, the voices in my head chanting my defeat are deafening. A crippling sense of  utter disaster overtakes me. For a moment I feel suspended in time, then as my heart begins to race, I’m thrusted into a fast paced world of terror.

What does that all mean? It means that you are not alone. Yes, YOU! You know you’ve been there. We all go through times in our lives that leave us breathless for all the wrong reasons. It’s okay to feel claustrophobic out in the open. Some cages can’t be seen.

Society today is unapologetically unaware of all the pressures individuals like me face. Or they blatantly don’t care. Parents, minorities, adults and children in school, people who are told they are way too skinny or way too fat— the list goes on and on, these are societies redheaded step children. Everyday people  deal with seemingly normal problems that they supposedly should be able to fix on their own.

But heres the thing, being on their own is the problem. Mothers can’t express how much they suffer while trying to raise a child without being judged. School kids face pressure from their parents, peers, and social media to be perfect. With no where to turn, many struggle in silence.

You hear it all the time, “It could be worse.” “Someone else has it worse.” That doesn’t make another person’s situation any less of a difficulty. And since when are we in the business of comparing hardships?

I can admit that there’s been moments where I wanted to fade away into the shadows because coming to the realization that my life was a mess, was too hard. Have you ever felt that way? Even your dreams seem comical and unattainable. You have this feeling of not being good enough, so everything that comes from your head seems like a wasteful fantasy.

Time…time is all we need to recenter ourselves, to get our life back on track. A moment of clarity and some positive affirmations to bring our confidence back. Truth is, support is not always easy to come by and at times you’ll have to pull yourself up by the bootstraps and it’s going to be hard!

I found myself watching the social media craziness between James Charles and others. The way he spoke, made it seem like the events that transpired gave him thoughts of ending his life. I don’t know him nor did I ever watch his videos before but what he said hurt. It pains me when anyone so overcome by grief thinks not living is a proper solution to their problems.

This great big world can feel so empty and cold. It doesn’t matter if you’re famous or a regular joe. Struggle is guaranteed. I had to learn this the hard way.

If you read my last post and are now reading this one, you might be wondering what the heck is happening to me. Well, reflection happened. I’m a mess but I’ve stumbled upon others who also frequent Hot Mess Avenue and I found it only right to express my thoughts for the sake of helping someone else.

You are awesome!  You can do it! You, my friend, are not alone in this. Everyone goes through some sort of battle and yours is not to be minimized. When doubt fills your head, remember that you have the power to overcome anything. You are STRONG! Hurt doesn’t make you less of a bad ass. Remember all the times you made it through a difficult situation and know you’ll get through anything that comes your way!

 

As always ((HUGGS & LOVE))

Drowning

Uncategorized

 

Hold your breath

There’s no help for you at this depth

Who will be your helper

As you struggle under the pressure

Searching for hands that aren’t stretched out

You can’t scream, you can’t shout

There is  no rescue

So who will save you

Call out his name but no need to speak

He’ll hear you even when you’re weak

Alone, you never were

The water was just to help you grow

When you feel like giving in

Think how close you are to winning

When you feel you might drown

Turn to the father who’s always been around

*came up with this just now. Really going through a lot and my faith continues to be tested. Hope everyone is doing good.*

((HUGGS & LOVE))