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Watching Mississippi Burning on TUBI- https://link.tubi.tv/IpwuGEWQMSb. I remember watching it as a kid. Powerful movie. I’ll be using my study of the movie as adult to inspire an essay for a LPN program I need to take. I feel like nursing has a deeper meaning for me due to my eclecticism in life… Being more understanding of our differences as humans allowed me to always have the drive to be the best nurse I could be. Worried about how life looks to the outsider, let alone my family and friends now as I type on April 22, 2025 at 8:49pm.

I have just watched Mississippi Burning now as an adult to get a more wholesome understanding of unity. It seems when depression wants to separate me from fulfilling a dream, it likes to compare me to something I am not.

Part of my desire to be more compassionate; I will purposely watch shows that discuss the perils of others. What everyone from all different walks of life goes through in life.😞 (Watching the “Opiods: Hidden Crisis” documentary next on TUBI click here)

In search of Beethoven is a wonderful movie too. Click here

In other words, saying, someone’s tone when they talk to me might sound like my depression (depressed side of myself) talking to me, saying “You aren’t a real nurse. Not even an RN.”

Albeit, I would love if I had more love to float me through this. There is already so much love from others in my life, sometimes there are little circumstances with explanations that lead me to the conclusion I needed to recognize the healthier love comes to you when you begin loving yourself in a healthier manner. Affirmations every morning type of healthy. Take your favorite quote or bible verse that keeps you strong, and post it somewhere easy for you to see when you get low on life.

Let’s talk about how many times I tried the LPN Program, because I think my personal challenges with life have contributed immensely to my worth as a nurse, shall I ever become one.

Where:

OCM BOCES [2014-2015, 2016-2017] & SCSD Sidney Johnson [2011-2012]

Why I didn’t graduate:

The program was closing, yes, but my working two jobs as well as attending the program had me exhausted. I could have definitely tried harder, if not the hardest I had ever tried in my life. Granted, I hadn’t been through the trauma I just encountered in 2023 from being hit by the car to really make me understand how passionate I can be about my dreams to be a nurse one day. I was always dreaming of homeschooling my children too. And another thing was the finances. Arguments of other debacles I am sure would have risen or still may arise because of society and the dynamic in which I have to work more than I want to sometimes in life. I always believe there’s room to do better and be better. I can still make dreams come true. A part of the PTSD for me sometimes is that I shut my own dreams down by the way I talk about my mistakes and whatever I may have gone through to render my reaction to that mistake in my life.

Maybe I didn’t want to go to work sometimes because of my own depression. And after a breakdown or two I realized we all have to keep trying. We have to. I would go to work with the belief that my love for the field and doing God’s work will heal people.

“It will. It has to.” Is how I would talk to myself.

There was a man known to have a colorful view on race. Which brought about a decent amount of gossip around the nursing home. And I always want to be neutral. My time spent with him was a good learning experience. It was time for me to get him ready for breakfast; dressed and cleaned. So, bending down in front of that man who initially may have been a part of racist groups and was needing wholesome care in a nursing home; I was surely willing to tie his shoes for him and anything else he needed done around his room for him to be ready for breakfast on time that morning. I had no concern for the fact that he was frequently referred to as a “pain.” I understood what that mean after working with some people a little bit more. Finding him to be an intriguing man, full of vivacious character when allowed to open up; it was likely a number of things that made him not able to open up and want to talk, let alone be civil with some workers. It could have been their way of handling his frail fragile skin and their way of saying goodnight to him. It could have been their desire to talk about his tattoos that made him belong to a certain group. For me, it was always possible for me to improve who I am as a person and in my mind to be able to be of good use whether the patient would hate me for being a black woman (Nigerian majority mixed with German, Spanish, Irish and other things) or not. I was always hoping for indiscriminatory love.

I knew from a young age I didn’t like the feeling of hating myself because other people who didn’t look like me hated me. Sometimes I would remember those looks from a couple of Spanish girls in the nursing home. They were scared. I told them don’t even worry about it; he is actually quite pleasant when you get to know him. He just doesn’t like a certain “type” of person. And that’s really meaning someone who is aggressive in how they care for him. Which I completely understand.

I remember falling asleep in class. I could have advanced with more support to alleviate the financial stress of being a single parent and having to pay rent & utilities cash, daycare cash, a car payment etc.

There is no reason for my life to be in such a shambles that it looks so completely opposite of what it really is. Every day is a battle with motivation sometimes for me. I need very little motivation to be a mother. For it is something I truly love doing. But trust me, if you don’t respect my passion for caring for others and my need for someone to care for me the way I care for others (meaning you’re being cared for by me as well; we are taking care of one another in harmony) then I cannot be with you. I have taken too many attempts at love and not gotten right my boundaries on my other areas of life. Having a study routine, home routine can be less of a problem once the ball gets rolling. I truly think it’s about having consistent belief in yourself despite the flashbacks of failure. Happy to obtain as much time as possible from working 3 days straight of 12–16-hour shifts whenever I could.

And to be honest it still got the best of me when I was in the program. I know I wasn’t the parent with $100k in the bank when graduating but I had love worth more than that for the children and family that I have. The people at work supporting me and asking me if I needed help mentoring me during the clinicals was absolutely helpful.

The dreams of coming home to a husband supporting me through nursing school while I take care of our children… I would be upset with myself for them not coming true.

“You have to believe more El’Aundra. And harder. Believe harder.”

Why don’t you try spanking me with feathers to inspire me to complete my dreams, instead of smacking me with verbal insults on how I will never be a nurse or finish nursing school? Stop flaunting your money and concern for showering everyone else I work with instead of me. Comparing me to other women you have supported through school or other women you would rather support through nursing school. I mean really, what would or could they possibly mean to me? Be honest with yourself. The confident part of me not caring about that form of disrespect. I was sure that by personality, looks and stature; he would be thinking in his mind

“Man, it sure would be nice to have a beautiful, smart vivacious woman like you to come home to, a beautiful woman inside and you like you to support through nursing school!” Bounding with an overflowing sense of exuberance.

Hell, even to see me care for others. Why are you so mean as a man that you find it more attractive to make a woman like me suffer? And show me in more ways than one what you can do for another woman with the same ambitions? She comes prancing into work with a nice car, talking about the house she just bought and the married man she is dating. Or maybe she comes in talking about how her boyfriend just loves that she doesn’t want to work and she wants to live the soft life. A life where she can focus on caring for the children and furthering her education while “playing house.”

Why is it that I seem to most often get men with ill intended worries. Worries of a man more concerned with making another woman happy at my expense was what these thoughts once materialized into. Which often made me late for work. Driving myself crazy with low grades. Getting an A+ at being a mom. Because I would rather snuggle my babies and watch movies than study sometimes. Being less than wife material would infiltrate my heart and make me feel like all I was good for was caring for someone else. Fuck the homework. I need to care for myself and snuggle with these babies to renew love in myself, for myself. I would get so depressed sometimes I would damn near injure myself with mental anguish in the tone of talking myself down from the highest dream possible because I genuinely cared to impress with a smile despite the pain just to have “help” while I was in school. All the while, questioning if I was really completing my dreams.

The haunting words “I can pay for another female to finish nursing school instead of you.”

I will roll my eyes and likely ignore the advance to be the worst masculine attitude I have ever encountered. Comments like those do not serve who I am as a person. I then become irritated with the lack of respect and more motivated to do what God says that I can do despite the hatred for my attempts that are not successful. Why so much hatred for my desire to be existent as a nurse. Hatred for my dreams of furthering instead of being used as a servant wife to a man that wants me to “not work and be taken care of” to an extent and still being able to complain and talk to me like I don’t matter when I need energy to focus on the exams, clinicals and more in order to be a nurse.

For the sake of my sanity, I say cut the static off. I have enough love in my heart. Nobody can tell me I don’t.

XOXO

El’Aundra

This picture gives me butterflies. I love architecture so much. I know I could just stare into an engineers eyes and ask questions. As my heart continues to flutter. So much I want to know. Respectively, as a fan of photography [this is a stock image]; loving the angles I was gasping. And naturally I just stared at the picture and just felt this warmth in my heart. Wonderful relaxing thing about life is the beauty in pictures of buildings.

Watch Fiddler on the Roof here on tubi. Imagine we are watching it together. I would surely be singing and dancing around the room.

Sitting here watching my one of my favorite musicals. Growing up I fell in love with these and it has never truly went away as an original love. I would love going around the house singing to my kids “Sunrise, Sunset.”

I was the lover of old, old, old movies and would watch that so much more than anything else. Also, the type to sit in bed with my laptop when the kids are asleep and write about things in a poetic form. I was “nicer” in a sense. Because I had a way to get out my thoughts. To transform them from a walk where I seem mad to a thought process in words explaining I am in more pain than I like to admit and that although there are many types of pain that don’t include physical at the same time. And with my emotional sometimes it’s a very tunneled mental runway. However untrimmed the surrounding trees are, there is still an escape to goodness albeit I may be walking through bad in literal present terms.

I then see this article titled “Lab grown teeth could be the future” and then think to myself

Some people are so incredibly insecure about their teeth. My objective is to love the entire you. Making it fair to get through the fight of who you are in your most positive and most negative. Alone or together it must be done. You do deserve a chance to do better. Be better. Have more. Want love. We have all been broken and compartmentalized and suffered because we wanted to be loved as a whole.

Some people like you watching them brush their teeth. They know that you love them and don’t care if their teeth are real or fake. Others hate you staring at them brushing their teeth. Because they know you are only trying to expose the fact that they feel insecure about their teeth. You may also feel that them not exposing their entire feelings about themselves enveloped; is up for your interpretation. You don’t have to read too far into it sometimes. Are you mad when your girl asks you to use the bathroom alone for her nighttime routine? Have you ever thought that it could be something about you that makes her want to be alone? Do you make her feel like staring at her is something you hate doing? Talking to her is something you hate doing. What if she loves you being in the bathroom at night after the kids are asleep and getting ready for bed and cleaning up the house. What if she really loves your presence because you love her so good and so much? Something must be holding her back oftentimes. I think it’s not only how we do take things if we are on the receiving end, but how the other person does things.

Posting this on Facebook, I was inclined to understand the hateful judgement of others sometimes. I know it hurts. I can sometimes be someone that hurts someone else with the words I say. Or what else would it be? The ill-mannered assumptive comments. They hurt. I want to give you a chance to think about a comment you would “normally” have and after reading, this there might be a different comment.

Let’s say for example, you knew that you found it fascinating the types of things someone does in routine fashion to take care of themselves. “I love that she washes her face with wasabi before bedtime.” Its envelopes you that they take care of themselves in such a wonderful way. Understanding that since this is your comfort to be with a woman that washes her face with only wasabi, you don’t care to make someone who doesn’t wash their face with wasabi feel like they are ever going to have a chance. You are in this mode of hiding. Deceiving. And what if you weren’t in this mode? Thinking of that perspective as well…

Now that you found love, you have your woman to yourself. You could be the type of person to sit there day in and day out watching that woman that captivates you to no end. Admiring her. At first, she does not think twice about how many times you watch her everyday washing her face. She does not understand much of how you find that to be something to be so obsessed with after a while. Understanding how you find it fascinating is more her question when she asks, “Why do you love me?”

I would often wonder myself as I was writing this, if you really cared and loved her you may go to the store and buy what she needs to be the best version of herself. The one you fell in love with. You are a good man to treat her with that respect. To not go and make fun of her in front of your friends because she washes her face with wasabi. You love her even though what she does in her daily routine is different. You wake up thinking of how you can make her into a better woman.

It’s as if the fact that a man or woman would want to stare at what they love. If it’s you and you are not comfortable with your looks; you can maybe understand that when someone truly loves, you it hurts them to see you uncomfortable with yourself and your looks etc. You deserve to be loved. To have love.

Not wanting to make a stink about how beautiful it is when you find something beautiful about someone’s self-care routine. Find anything. There’s always something about someone to love.

Fair enough, your self-confidence can be renewed. That’s the goal in life. The underlying meaning of the writing is loving someone despite their flaws in their self-care routine (and their desire to be better) is what attracts me instead of searching constantly for perfection and making them feel like they are beyond repair because their routine is not perfect. “You don’t brush your teeth every night, so I cheat on you.” Instead of loving you through growth. Finding out why they are not brushing their teeth, and you don’t really care to stop and resonate with that girl you claim to love and care for. You don’t want to understand that because you were constantly thinking of cheating on her.

How you think is “She is so stupid for forgetting to brush her teeth.” And yes, that hurts significantly.

And you, being her significant other, know that she is a chronically depressed person naturally. She had a rough upbringing and has tried to be better every day since being a child. But losing people in her life has made her very scared to lose any part of you that truly loves her, and you decide to open up and share with her. She doesn’t want to believe that the moments you said you loved her; you didn’t actually love her. And you beat yourself up because you cannot “fix” her and make her better. You can’t figure out the balance. She felt that betrayal when she went to sleep. It came to her that you were thinking of other females and then began seeing them as better and more attractive because they were never depressed. They were never sad. They were always happy. You can make her happy if you continue to let her get to know the part of you that loves her. The part of you that wanted to share yourself with other women reminded her of things she has been through before and she fell down. Did she take it the wrong way? Why not talk to her? There wasn’t a desire to explain. She fell and felt like she couldn’t get back up.

It then leads me back to myself again, thinking to myself; I know for me, gratitude is something I am always trying to be better at.

I have written through the chronic depression and need to understand how I heal myself. Or can heal others.

XOXO El’Aundra

*Things are often misspelled because it’s incredibly emotional to tears at times to re-read my writings.

An entry of other proportions, I will share what has been in my drafts for a couple months. I was working a decent amount at the time. I’m drained of my energy. And in pain. I need to rest. It’s not you draining, just typical life process. I have the opportunity to return. I’ve just been terrified to open up to anyone. Nothing or anyone a problem in particular but I haven’t been the same since I left here in March. I just need country scenery. And air. And a massaging pad. Weighted blanket 50lb. Hot 120 degrees bath to fuse my bones back together in a sense. All I hear and feel is creaking. I haven’t been able to process much in the last couple of days. Every scenario in life has a connection to spirituality and I’m drawing closer to my faith but still having issues with pain visualization. It takes me a while to open up to people. Grieving an old me in some ways. I would often return to celibacy on some fronts to come closer to my confidence. I always felt I was worth more than what I meant to people in Syracuse and Buffalo and just wanted to be happy, but I was looked at as a bad person for escorting. And treated as such. By most people on the outside looking in. A few clients I liked but I was heartbroken after I didn’t see him again in March and gave up on opening that side of myself up again. I did many things out of desperation. Pride and not wanting to ask for help. Just wanting to get by on my own. I couldn’t bear being looked at like I was wrong for only being myself on my media productions. Then I take it off because I feel uncomfortable and don’t see myself or body the same after the car accident. Looking at my scars crying. Real shit though.

Hoping I would be able to appreciate what I just went through. Still in shock 6-8 months after it happens. And here I am 10 months post, and I know I have some healing to do before anyone ever sees me worth marriage.

Or a relationship. So, I am fine with that work. There’s just a little more work to do. I’ll be ok. August last year I posted a video. Deleting it January-ish.

I just wanted to be secure in myself. Wanted to feel loved. Feel beautiful at the time. I was going through so much. That’s what I really needed. And I couldn’t find it. Kept losing that hope. Over and over. And as I oiled myself up with Vaseline sitting next to him on the couch I tried not to cry. I have so much work to do on myself. I put lotion on my legs. My arms. Oh, my arms. They hurt so bad from being broken in 7 places as a child. But I manage. I just wanted to appreciate. So, in my head I’m doing affirmations. I reach back to oil my hair and body and go to sleep. Sweet dreams

XOXO, El’Aundra

Psalm 51

Proverbs 31: 10-31

My sincere apologies I haven’t been myself in years in more ways than one it seems…

As I undoubtedly ask for forgiveness for my behavior after acting erratic in a notion to find a sense of calm in life. Yet I self reflect. Thinking in the perspective of the other person who may have received my upset in words; lest action. Understanding people are entirely different each own. I encourage fluid existence. Still thanking God for life but understanding that if it wasn’t for him in my life a lot of things about my life that are difficult for me to comprehend are very much in despair when I need them to be alive. Feel alive. We need love to exist. Am I supposed to sit in a hotel room in a destitute time in life and feel like I am not worthy of catapulting emotions in the same regard as increased dopamine ‘self-induced’? I think not. I will not allow myself or my body to feel like it is worth less. I can change that by how I feel about myself and how I treat others; especially because that relies on how I feel about myself largely. Am I welcoming to you? Do you feel loved and regarded in my arms? Not always have I been fearful of that but in the most recent of times ‘terrified’ is used to describe an emotion related to allowing to captivate my heart. And some would ask why. Maybe it’s the restrictions I feel that are placed on me to be a ‘certain way.’

Of course proverbs talks about being a good woman. And yes by some standards I would say I am. Emotional more than most. I remember seeing videos of a woman lashing out punching the man for hurting her. That’s what I won’t do. I will pray for him whether he wants to be with me or not. Nevertheless a God fearing man would have no fear of being forgiven by me and bestowing forgiveness. Psalm speaks of the forgiveness language. I am no better than anyone. Just another imperfect person. Knowledgeable at some things and others not. Rarely can I not strike a conversation and teaching is a strong point. Do we not teach ourselves? It’s a matter of if we live to love the action in general and I do. Without harm. More love.

I’ll lend you a cane into my thoughts… I think about people more than you think. And I enjoy being myself around them. Even as a non-judgemental party to people and some ways of seeing how awful people can feel and make other feel. Albeit I love to be more aware of it myself. Let’s say someone is distraught and I am a bystander I will give them a hug. Always consciously reminding myself to be impartial and peaceful. Stay on the fence and in the middle. It is not my place to choose a side. Staying aware that I don’t know everything about someone’s situation. God does. Everyone deserves a chance. Everyone.

XOXO El’Aundra

WHAT IS A FAMILY MAN’S CREED?

I can hear some people yelling ‘Lonnie!!!’ 

With me running in the room saying 

‘Yes’… 

‘Lonnie, Did you need to go that far with your point?’

😳  My response:

 ‘Ok well let me explain… I’m not too sure how to comprehend the excuses or arguments that some people would have at by which they have put a bullshit parameter around themselves only to have the ability to sit back and say that they’re ‘winning’ in this fake war they have in their mind against me. Insults are an example of a fake war. Hiding the truth can also be one. The thought that winning=keeping secrets. When actually even if they told the truth, I would Poker Joker Face (El’Aundra signature look, 👀) and make sure you knew it’s not that serious to think I give a fuck to ruin your happiness that much by hating on your decisions dear… That is my speech.
I would rather love than hate. So then I’m well rested because I don’t want to lose sleep or my mind over someone playing sick mind games with my heart. Like no. NO. So I won’t cry. I’ll put up a boundary until you’re showing safety. Metaphorically, No. I don’t like how heartless people can act. A boyfriend? An ex? Bruh You better hope you’re telling the truth about who you are. The most I can do is to pray for your deliverance. Meaning one day God will expose that you aren’t the man for me or to me that you claimed to be. I gain nothing with threats of violence. And since I loved you with Gods support and grace; you will pay for lying to me by him communicating to me in my prayers to him about how uncomfortable you might have made me feel as a man that truly had no love or respect for me. No, we should not threaten people. But don’t cross boundaries so many times in life that you are lying to keep up a look or paint a picture. It’s rather disgusting. Be really, really comforting to those around you and see how much you grow. Any man in my house better act like one. Trust me, lying to God would never work because he sees all. Knows all. Hears all. You might as well confess to being a POS, a Gentleman, a family man, an inspiration, a good man, a liar, a cheat, a scumbag. Whatever title you choose love. 

I know there’s better ways to handle things. And with Gods patience I will find them in the Bible. 

‘Need I say more motherfucker?’

That is what I have had say after an argument with an ex. You already know. No violence needed. I need to separate and calm myself. But needed to get a couple things straight. As I rebuild myself. 

www.elaundra.com 

Come. I want to take you on a stroll. A clip of my voice. Speaking in writing…

XOXO, El’Aundra

What’s sad is people get information that was sensitive in the first place. Post it in a group chat or on social. It gets back to the person so they can set the record straight. Which is good. But how often does setting the record straight lead to a sense of relief? It’s an understanding that not every lesson you have learned in life is for other people to consider throwing their judgement on.

I may have taken away something from you. I may have gone too far with my argument with you. That wasn’t a reason to be a jerk. Even more than if I had just apologized and you left it alone. I didn’t have to continue. I don’t have to continue. I don’t have to hurt you. And if I had decided to go above and beyond, yes; I would feel guilt. Asking myself, which way could this go is sometimes the next thought for the me, albeit I might be the arguer in the situation. Should it be the next thought, maybe an apology would ensue. You would know I had feelings. I had a heart. I was real in a sense to acknowledge your pain. Fine. It’s all settled for now. I don’t like the way I feel when I have to be mean to someone. When I have to discard patience.

Are you strong enough to handle someone coming to you and pleading for information about me? Can you be that strong person that isn’t going to go and tell my most intimate secrets? What if I am so self-aware and in tune with myself that I am not ashamed of myself. And I don’t like making someone else feel ashamed of themselves. I find myself wanting to learn how to be better. Be more managing of how they feel in a way that doesn’t discredit them as a person. And knowing I want to treat someone the same way I would want to be treated. And even in the event that forgiveness comes in; And with your level of discernment at that time being so low, you won’t be a good judge of character regarding that person fishing for information. And you will bow. Crumble. Releasing things you shouldn’t have said. And in my regard, that’s all I have done in the past. Is set the record straight about things. With the respect that there’s work to do within myself and time to ask God for peace. But I know I can make my own living being in my truth. I would just consider it best with due respect to how it’s delivered. How it’s done. I would get tired of other people trying to beat me to the punch when who I am as a person physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually isn’t your tender to worry about. Rushing to tell the next person a detail that you think by telling a third party is somehow going to make them feel uncomfortable. For me. it might be different. I love to talk. It may open me up. Maybe it won’t. But they’re feeling like it’s a burden that they carry in the eye of others. When it’s really just a burden they carry in the eye of them. If and when this happens to you, don’t allow yourself to be the filter for them. Behind closed doors your heart and your mind are in the gold mines for them. There are things that happen to people to make them divulge in a lack of discernment they can’t come back from and when they learn that sometimes knowing that the chain link of them strengthening their discernment is going through and mastering different levels of trauma. When you have been violated over and over, you have a way about you that shows people sometimes what you have been through. And letting the wrong people into your life can dive you deeper into your trauma. People are damaging sometimes to tell you to not live in your trauma; when you have to live in it to go through it. And going through the motions of healing can often be the most treacherous part. Sometimes people think the aftereffect is worse. Because they are alone and have to build back up. Sometimes I stay trapped in my trauma because I have a fear someone won’t be there to receive it for/from me. Massage it. Have I moved on from things, etc. It becomes a whole entire other level of sickness when you are so selfish with your motives and judgement and want so badly to ruin someone else that you push your way through that boundary.

Let’s say you want to dig for some information on someone. You go into your social media and search and find so much information about them it changes the way you feel about even going that far in the first place. Maybe it’s to send them a message. I remember the many times I did this and somewhat immediately regretting a part of myself getting so upset. I needed to take a break and rethink that. What I said. How I said it. Alone. A time out perspective. How we present ourselves even on social media can be considerably different from who we are as a person. In motion.

What if I cast a spell on this person?

Why is that your first thought? What is it about casting a spell that seems positive or negative to you? What if that person doesn’t want to be attached to you? Asking yourself if that person has ever said anything emotional to you that may tie you to them. Do you realize the restrictions that can put on someone?

What if I go and lookup the high school they went to and try to find information about them?

The damage you could do by opening doors that were not meant to open. Did they go to prom? Did they have friends in school? Who were their friends? And you are only doing this to hurt them. Of course there’s a way someone would feel. Intruded on. And maybe even like they wished they had the opportunity to talk to you and tell you who they are without you having to do all of that just to get information about them. They didn’t concern you. It’s a beautiful thing when a man goes to propose to a woman, and he used to go to school with and looks her up online. Making the appropriate arrangements along the way.

What if I found this person so “interesting” I want to make a podcast with them?

What if you found them so interesting you actually wanted to SPEND TIME WITH THEM. So many times I would sit and want a boyfriend to make cute music videos with. To do stuff like interviews. How I would take it is you find me so interesting that you interview me? It excites you to ask me questions about things. Because you’re able to fall in love with me as a person because of how I am talking to you.

What if I want to know even more about them so I sit and cause infidelity?

What good would something like that do for the person that you’re doing it to? Can you incorporate them and make it ‘good’… can you make it ‘okay’…can it be ‘fixed.’ And to what extent would you go to cause this to that person? Sometimes I reel in my head so much about infidelity I lose sleep. I lose pounds. I lose inspiration. A will to thrive. And it’s that very intoxicating suffocating feeling that makes me want to not talk. Shut down. In the same respect someone not being able to open up about how they feel can do the same. Or what it is that they have done.

I know the times I had not been faithful; I wanted to come back. I think it was my pride that didn’t let me come back. Would not let me crawl and bear my soul for what I had done. I had lost out on maybe what seemed to be good relationships in the midst and good people. For the fear of how they will perceive me. The most damaging part was realizing that in the time it took me to throw it away and come back; they could have met someone else who will be their crutch if I fail to massage their emotions or ego the way they want or the way they think that person does, and even then thinking that the other person can provide more comfort. What would that do for me? My soul? How could I come to you and feel like a good, honest woman who needed a second chance; knowing I am on a timeclock with you. I am in a recording studio. I am in a court room. Everything I say and do can be used against me. You can just say that you want to continue this intermission on the side while you ‘give me another chance.’

For which I should be grateful, right? Then give me a chance to be grateful. I have to have at the very least, that.

I didn’t always think there was a reason to not have that conversation. So much of the lead up the you being unfaithful is you lacking something either in your relationship or you. More of the desire to mask a part of yourself you feel is irrevocably lost. I don’t know why at the time I would be in so much fear of being honest. Wanting to just live in a better light with people I chose to be around. Knowing that with the more time that was passing and me not letting them know how much I valued or loved them; would make them initiate me out of their life. The initiation into your life being you proving that you come peace. I bring you no harm. I bring you happiness. Good. Comfort.

No doubt there was always a desire to provide that. But the question may have been:

‘Do you like to dance. I see this other girl dancing on her ________ maybe you should.” Me wondering if you think I am a good dancer? Am I good at entertaining?

“I follow this one girl on social media. She is really funny. She does these skits…” Me wondering if you think I am funny? Do I make you laugh enough to want to be around me and film me doing skits?

What does a model or actor need to play a part besides their costume? Encouragement. I had that sure. But did I lack confidence? Did I lack strength? Support? Encouragement to myself?

And I think to myself that I would love to open myself up to a world like that. But quite honestly, how? Where do I even begin? How am I supposed to look at myself? I already have issues with how I see myself sometimes because of everything I have been through. Some days I feel like a beautiful female and some days I just don’t. I don’t know why it is sometimes, but we don’t really stop to think that someone doesn’t see themselves the way you see them because of what someone has done to them and less of what they have done to someone else. I swear I had a struggle feeling pretty this morning. I walked into the kitchen and said,

“I don’t really feel all that pretty today.”

I had serious issues with my life in general when I woke up. There were things I wanted to fix. And places I wanted to go with myself. But my trust barrier was broken. I had no idea if I could trust. I would do some creative work, then fall back.

“Maybe I don’t want the attention.” I would think. Is it fleeting? Will I have this attention when I need it most? When I get home from work?

You, as a man sometimes might sit there and say that I bring you to your knees. And then I leave you there. But to that, I respond

“And even when you get up, are you pointing your trajectory at me?”

“As cupid, is your arrow pointed at me? How is it that I brought you to your knees and left you?

“Are you saying I had you to the point you would have done anything for me?”

Maybe I need to figure this out. Relating every feeling I had to everything in front of me. The idea of a general public wanting that part of you and you have no idea how to give it.

I would sooner think that if I had you to the point where you would do anything for me, I would not be complaining about the load that I have to carry. There would be things that I would celebrate. And sometimes, can’t be celebrated because you really have been brought to your knees. And refuse to get up and take me to the party. You have been on your knees praying for me to let loose right? To be myself. To open up. Trust me, if a man was on the sidewalk on his knees; I would know to allow him to stand up and meet me eye to eye as a gentleman. I am not your master. So, you do not need to stay on your knees if you don’t want to.

“I’m just not ready right now.” And there we have it. Given up before it even has a chance to manifest.

I got upset at myself more and more. More self-damaging behavior like smoking cigarettes and things like that. Not that writing is self-damaging or that it isn’t a form of self-care but I felt like the words were bubbles in my head trying to push through bricks. I didn’t care to push back and fight in the slightest. There was a part of me that knew running this race… like this… for this is only going to make me lose. I never felt like it was a race I had a chance at. Moreso feeling like it was a race I didn’t have a chance at. I was a loss before I began. I remember looking up pictures and photographs of past experiences and then thinking what was my mindset then. Where did I find more character? How did I find more strength? Nevertheless, people are just going to assume so much about where it might come from. My strength comes from nature. My desire to dive into the self-damaging behavior was the desire to mask the pain I was experiencing. Initially feeling like it wasn’t something I really deserved to go through. Why me would be a common outcry. Then saying to myself, it’s you because you choose it to be. Choose it to be something else and it will be. But to what avail? What vice. I got too comfortable at times relying on the silence in the room as my vice. That kept me up. Going. Alert. Joyful.

And they share some of the most intimate secrets about someone else. And you have to realize they start to love the company of you. Love making friends with someone who dislikes this person just as much. Just like high school. And the same way I was then is how I am now. Back of the room. Just primarily observant. Less threatening when it comes to attacking with vengeance and creating hardship. More prayer for the weary.

I worry about how I am going to seek to present myself to others.