Never Can Say Goodbye: Part One

Four years ago, in May, I was sitting in a restaurant having lunch with my cousin. We were chatting about life, work and my daughter’s upcoming 1^st birthday party. In walks an average height, silky-curly black haired, deep dark skin young brotha.  My eyes immediately fixated on him as he walked to place his order. After receiving his order, he briskly walks past, still amazed at his beauty, I notice that I recognize his face. (I am typically very timid and rarely approach men for fear of rejection, but today was different). There was something about him that I couldn’t take my eyes off. As he walked outside and passed my window seat, he playfully sticks his tongue out at me. I couldn’t allow this moment to pass me by so I jumped up and I told my cousin “I’ll be right back-that man is going to be my husband”. My cousin laughed as I politely excused myself to go look for him outside”. I dashed out the door to find him before he drove off. By the time I got to the edge of the lot, he was already in his vehicle, driving off. Thankfully he saw me and stopped the truck, rolled the window down and said hello. As I am telling him he looks familiar , I introduce myself(before I can get out a wors)-he interrupts me and calls me by name! Yes by name! I am stunned, yet quite flattered. Through conversation he rattles off questions asking about my parents and brother  are doing (like he knew them),in efforts to strike my memory as to where I may know him from. After noticing I still did not remember, he explained that we use to work together and we talked quite often. We exchanged numbers and he was off to work.  As I walk back inside, my cousin notices my rosey cheeks (me blushing from the encounter), and discerns everything  went well. My day and my week had been made.

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No Longer Ashamed

My walls are down, my skin exposed, I am baring it all to save my soul. Growing  up, I felt as though I was a good person; warm, welcoming, caring, loving, nurturing, and helpful. As an adult I have been forced to take a step back and look at myself from a more, not so pleasant perspective. Some of the experiences in life have changed how I view myself and others. Friendships that went wrong, messy college girls spreading rumors, shaming my name, and destroying bonds built over time. A relationship built on jealousy, violence and distrust; parents pushing for perfection, good grades and money saving tactics. My trust in people is gone. My heart is broken.

Looking in the mirror I see what you say I am; rude, disrespectful negative and uncompromising. After decades of being told you're something you never thought you were, you start to buy into the hype. Trying your best to let the good shine through but being blocked by the negativity and shamefulness.

After years of college drama and nasty girl talk, I decided to decrease my circle of friends and stick to those I knew had and would always have my back. Rumors were spread about me and about things I was saying about the girls I hung with the most. The rumors put a strain on the trust we had with one another.  But I still remained and attempted to mend the damage that was done. I looked up to them, I wanted to be more like them, trendy, extroverted, fun and fabulous. I was trying to be someone else so I was more in the “in crowd”; more accepted. Although I was liked, I felt I was missing out because I was not sleeping around, dismissing my morals and because I dressed more tomboyish than the girls in my circle. I felt strongly about protecting friendships I had made in life and did all I could to keep them in-tact.

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Just Like You!

"In my dreams, I knew it'd be true. Growing up, I knew I'd look just like you. Something outta my control, secrets and lies unfold, someone hold me and let the truth be told. I was 30 years old when I began searching again to make myself whole. I needed cleansing and closure for my wounded soul".
 -Me

Being an adopted child can bring about so many emotions. Some understood and some unexplained. I was 5 when I learned of this. Never did it make me not wanna be where I was, just made me curious of what she (biological mother) was like. At 16, 19, and 30 I searched for my roots and came up empty handed. I was informed at 19, she was uninterested in making contact with me. It hurt, but I moved on. I often thought about the 2 brothers  I learned that I had, and why she didn't want to meet me. I knew she was weary of meeting me because she had kept me a secret  from everyone in her life except her mother, my grandmother. I made myself understand and be okay with this, but it never stopped me from wondering where I came from and what we had in common. Years passed by and I didn't search for her. But one day I was sitting on the bed (after having my daughter) and something came over me. Something pushed me and the urge to seek out who she was, hoping her mind had changed, so I proceeded to find out who this woman really was.

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