To me, being on the outside looking in:

A child being in jail for skipping school is just lost in the world with no mentors and nobody to look up to. They are in a jail setting and punished in certain ways, I relate it to someone saying to them:

‘Fuck these shoes. I’ll just throw these shoes back in a box for the next 20 years and when they’re nicer I’ll pull them out.’

Instead of just working with the already worn parts of the shoe. Working with the ways that the child needs to be healed. You know very well how to heal that child. Much like a human knows how they treat another human can damage them or lift them up.

Are you mad at the child or threatened by them?

Are you mad at the other person or threatened by them?

And when you answer that question, you can begin to dive into why you do what you do.

Because you’re selfish. And that selfishness is worthless to me. Because I am so selfless it’s shocking to some people. They look at me as if to say

“The audacity of you to think and act in such a selfless manner! How dare you!”

When I merely think in the opposite retort “The audacity of you to think and act in such a selfish manner! How dare you!”

My mind would go towards working with what was already there to help heal the brokenness. How do we keep a child in a mind-state to where they can stay sane if they are hated by those around them? Is it homeschooling? Is it taking them from the very place that they tell you they hate? And the very place that they tell you hates them?

The expectation of some people in life is to just move on from death. Just leave it in the past. Some of us do. We don’t realize what this does to a child. How this makes them feel. Like they have nowhere to turn. They don’t understand it. They don’t know how to release the anger. The loneliness. The hurt. But yet we tell them (as adults) to “move on”.

It’s because you don’t want to be bothered. And I cannot be bothered with people like you that act or think like that. So please stay away from me. I want to hold these children near to my heart. Tell them how to grieve. I have every single type of grief there is. So I know it all too well.

And I will be the last to tell you to just move past the hurt.

You are entitled to live in it. Just don’t let it break you.

I am watching a documentary about a child that is in an institutionalized home for young kids. Not only have I worked in one about 6-8 years ago because I am passionate about lives people live and how they receive love; I just wanted to watch something that would increase my emotional intelligence while I sit in my current state in life and figure out what the fuck has happened to me. A huge part of my ten page resume was dealing with human services and healthcare. How someone would misconceive the notions in this girl’s heart is beyond me. She needed this. She deserved this. To see her mother’s grave on her mother’s birthday, anniversary, holiday or any other day that she needs. Because it can free her from her chains inside herself. But as a woman who has been through an exponential amount of grief at 37 years old, I sat here not expecting someone to understand where I was coming from automatically. No expectations, as I usually say.

In this life that we live how can we expect a child that is 12 years old, and their mother was just shot; to understand the moral and spiritual aspects of life and death? What is death? What does that mean? How do I heal this pain? Where do I get my strength to move on now? Because the one person who made me happy and smile is gone. So, what do I do now? Where do I go? Who can I trust? Who can I love? Who loves me? Why am I here? Am I lovable? Did I make a mistake? Is it my fault? Is there any way that I can bring them back?

These are all questions that I had asked myself when my grandmother died and I was 16. It was like I had two moms in life. My biological mom and my grandmother. And to lose my grandmother was double the pain in a sense because of how people in my hometown and this state had felt about her and her work in social work. And my mother was another voice of comfort when I needed. When my grandmother needed. It was that love for both of them that was unconditional. Can we discover how love can heal? What if the child knew that caring for someone else can cure the emptiness in their hearts of their loved one being gone? There were so many times I had a met a child that had no parents and would tell them to go into nursing. I really think you should just give it a try. I know you love fighting, but understanding that you’re just afraid to open up and be seen/heard sometimes is the reason that you act the way you do. What if you thought of it as a healing aspect for you to be so strong for someone else, and they can be safe for you? You can sit with an old lady and tell her how much your mother meant to you, and that in turn will soften your heart. Making sense of the cycle of abuse, what it means to love and care, what is karma? How do I change these things?

Anger management is not something that is common in schools. But it would have helped a child that lost their parent at 12 years old. They’re telling this one girl that getting a special visit to see her mother’s grave is an incentive. Not a right as a baby girl. And that breaks my heart. Because no matter what, I bet she would have a tent

Unconditional Love: Unconditional love is love that is given freely without expecting anything in return. It remains steady regardless of circumstances or imperfections of the other person

You might be willing to want to be more of a people pleasing person if people pleasing in the first place was based in a healthy rhetoric.

Are you mad at someone because they have not figured out their life yet? And they are a certain age? You feel like they should be able to figure it out or should have a pretty good idea of what they want to do in life. But what involvement in providing a healthy environment did you have for them? To what extent of life did you go for their happiness and yours?

Often getting into an argument over the livelihood of a child when it comes to morals and their mind. As a mother I will fight in a very aggressive manner regarding the logic of you telling me that what I have been through in life is the reason that I am going to have to explain my failures in life to my children. Do you not think I carry the guilt from that? And you carry the guilt for how you treat me when I show you how you could/should have treated me better and with more respect. So as a man how unjust is the circumstance or argument when you’re mad because I pee in your shower at your house? But your ex-wife is the type of female that makes fun of/extorts women who have been abused? And you like to carry on the same cycle of abuse. In a form fit for yourself, you look to others and put on a mask acting like you’re good and wonderful but you know good and well there is no unjustness in my peeing in a shower. It’s how you take respect.

What does respect mean to you? So if you have a disaster such as hurricane katrina, and it’s a time when all people not only begin to panic but as any other catastrophic event in their life that includes society simultaneously; to the point where we then have to act, survive, and exist together as a unit. How then would we obtain the logic sometimes in having more of a desire for the action of thought process and compassion for all facets of life in that moment. Before that moment. After that moment. In time. Example being that if it was a way that we were supposed to act when there is an emergent situation; but the help available to you at the time is not going to work for you the same way it has in the past. We have now decided to argue that it’s how we treat someone with a disability or disadvantaged in life but argue for the ability of greed to not only buy time but peace. Acting on that in an emergent situation; I was wondering if I was desperate and needed a solution for myself; would I ask myself these questions of “What am I mad at and what am I afraid of” if I had not had a desire to see more than just my point of view? To see more than what I am going through?

In the documentary the woman slams down the folder and says it’s getting pretty thick. That sense of sarcasm hurt that child. I saw it all over her face. And had they thought about more than themselves they would have realized there is an active way they can be part of a bigger picture that desires a more positive stance on change. Especially for the child. If you are in social work ask yourself “How well do I really understand the value of respecting someone else in the way I communicate with them and inspire them. No matter what age they are?”

This poor girl was saying “I don’t know how to deal with the anger of my mother being gone. I just don’t know what to do anymore.” And that’s all I needed to hear. But I didn’t need to hear it. Because I know. I am intuitive enough to know what she means by what she said. And it resonated.

The types of grief are below:

1. Anticipatory Grief: Pre-death emotions
2. Delayed Grief: Postponed emotional response
3. Disenfranchised Grief: Unrecognized loss
4. Abbreviated Grief: Short lived response
5. Absent Grief: Denial of loss
6. Collective Grief: Shared community experience
7. Complicated Grief: Interferes with functioning
8. Cumulative Grief: Multiple losses impact
9. Inhibited Grief: Hidden emotions
10. Masked Grief: Atypical symptoms
11. Normal Grief: Gradual emotional decrease

Depending on the research you do, you can encounter Abrupt, Prolonged, Absent, Delayed, Disenfranchised, Collective, Climate, Secondary Loss, and Anticipatory. It was when I attended a grief group that I was shocked. And still to this day work through most of it on my own. Grief doesn’t always come from losing someone. Sometimes putting someone through unnecessary turmoil in life can do nothing more than cause more grief.

Click here for Psych Central’s article on grief.

I will tell you what and how I think then.

I do. I like to pride myself on wanting to perfect my way of thinking in that way sometimes. As it makes my job in life as a human better, more meaningful, deeper, and more enlightening. I am not better that the work I need to do on myself. So, I need to re-evaluate myself on a consistent, obsessive basis at times. It gets exhausting.

I do not like her reprised response in this documentary. Whether it be at that time, or not. What if at some point in life I need a ride to see my mother’s grave? What if someone wants to give me that same sordid response to a need for me to see the very person that raised me? And albeit I am in this position in life, I need this. And you refuse to give it to me.

All you’re going to do is sit back and watch me suffer right now. Then sit back later and say that you’re sorry for what the suffering has done to me. My mental. Fuck that and fuck you.

You know what you did.

I was watching this episode of a show that was discussing prison. The woman said, “Power is seductive” and I said to myself

“Power is not seductive to me. Honesty is. Power is sadistic.”

People often hate themselves, because they see something in you that threatens them. Let that be their issue. Not yours.

Understandably in the reform manner of the child, you need to adhere to the state regulations of the home. Absolutely, but I would do things differently. And that’s all that needs to be said. Is that I am not you. So, I go within my mind and talk to myself about how I would do things differently with more compassion. With better regard for the person as a whole.

As a human.

I cannot sit and watch that poor baby sit in that chair and cry on the anniversary of her mother’s birth or death and feel hopeless. PERIOD. My heart would have wanted to heal her.

XOXO,

El’Aundra

As my mind rattled like a ball for a baby. I think to myself, when I choose the people around me I succeed. WHEN I CHOOSE I SUCCEED. To my own accord I will have what I need. It will not be by suffering or desperation that I will get what I need, no. It will be because I have already worked through the motions of what I have to go through. But when people around you are playing games and you didn’t choose who is around you natively, you chose them because you’re in desperation; you may be mad at yourself when it goes wayward. And it did. As I sit shopping for a right-hand splint. The one that separates the fingers so that the swelling in the joints is minimized. I think to myself, the way I think is not how someone else thinks. Had I not been talked to like I was I would have gotten up and left. Left that nursing home and that conversation that was less than exciting about a place to live. But it was that conversation that made me stop. And say, ‘sleep baby’. And so, I slept. And I wept. Because I didn’t want to blow up at the person in their face and say things I knew I didn’t mean, or I knew would hurt them.

It was cold last year in November. I had a couple thousand in the bank saved up. And irritated as fuck at the lack of progression in things. Let alone people. Let alone myself.
I had called asking if the apartment was for rent. And asked my specifics. Stated my regards to what I require. No drop ceiling. I have done a ceiling before and was not interested in dealing with mold. I told him why I was even in this area. And maybe unbeknownst to him, I elaborated so that he knew. In clear form. It wasn’t because I sat in my mind and chose this place. It was because certain things in my life were fucked with. Certain freedoms. Certain rights. And whether I responded in anger or not didn’t matter. What did matter was that I was working in a nursing home with bones creaking around residents I held so much love for in my heart and I needed reprieve. A place for me to lay my head. A place for my children to lay theirs. A place for my family and friends to come and experience my sense of peace.

As I think in my heart, mind, body and soul; but don’t repeat (but would say to my incoming guests)
“If you want to relax and have a beer, you can. If you want to go out back and jump in the trampoline you can. If you want to come and spend a day with the kids and many more friends and family and need to crash there is an 8 person tent is what’s been on my mind since 2021. It was just the desire to infiltrate my peace that was around me that affected my executing my plans, I felt.”
‘Maybe it’s the men you choose’ he said. Formulating in mild conversation to elude to the apartment being for rent still. And then I’m thinking to myself ‘Why the fuck would I want it?’
I remember saying something that was a separatist comment ‘I am fine thank you. If mothers raised their sons right I wouldn’t have this issue with a man like that in the first place.’ Taking into consideration if a man pays only attention to the fact that treating a girl ‘nice’ will get him whatever he wants; what does he make of a woman that affords him nothing but the opportunity to be in front of a woman that’s ‘real’?
I am not here for your shit either way. And you know what shit I’m talking about so why fuck around? Don’t treat me like I have to take responsibility for your actions. Then as a matter of fact in a community result to the adage that I must take accountability for my own actions. In a result of you declining your responsibilities to mind your own business when it doesn’t concern you; it affects others. Especially when your care and concern isn’t regarded in good form for them initially. I take to consideration the fact that I must take accountability twice. For my own failure as a result of the world around me crumbling and for crumbling as a result of the world built around me. When in fact if you go back to the original statement, the world you build around you without those you choose (that have no benefit to you) out of desperation will be fine. But when you must choose out of desperation, you must take accountability for both crumbling factors. Let that sink in. It’s double failure for one action. Of course some would say

’If you had chosen better’

And I say of course that too. But if a community had stepped in to raise better ad well. And do I take accountability for both of those failures as they relate to my own failures? Don’t disregard the fact that the more backup plans that I have that don’t work out, the more reasons I have to sit back and blame myself even further. I mean, by the time I’m done with you and the rant; I may have 8 reasons to be mad at ME. Not you.

I digress. And regard in the right to choose. To Freeform your life the way you want to. Just as you would with plaster of Paris. Making what mold you wish. But when you step in, you fuck up the artwork. And it no longer looks like art to me.

Cabin fever in the heart. There is nowhere near enough firewood to burn the fire in this heart. The chords of the heart let alone the cords of wood aren’t strumming the same tune. What did you miss? The point. Simple respect when it comes to a human life.

Point taken,

’There aren’t words to explain how sorry I am.’ could be a response.
‘I already know that. Greed isn’t synonymous with Good.’ is likely what I would say.

Starting with the nothingness that someone feels when they don’t understand the world you live in. The world you create for yourself. In your mind. On your face. In your heart. Are the words that describe your pain. Your joy. How could they be rewritten for another purpose? By another person? They can’t. Targeted measures of inadequate training in how to respect the faith someone has in themselves to get out of a hard position and place in life. As if they are a snail that doesn’t know how to seek out safe elevation in life. Could it not be in their nature to seek out happiness at the pace of a snail or sloth? It can. And what you see is the slowness. Not the preparation. Not the strategy.
It is in the same form that my mannerisms remind you of a typical homeless person that is reaching to substances to save them. Their mental. Their soul. And yet I don’t. I barely reach for Rylenol in pain. It’s motion memory. And a forgetfulness of who I am. A belief that I can do more with more. That I can do better if I have better around me. So I mask to conform.
‘Let’s play with the heights they want to reach. They are too slow. They don’t know their worth.’

At 5:28 pm I saw 3 sparrows fly. And by the time I had stood up they were gone. The sky a brutal mixture of blue and gray. It was something to feel the rain coming. But nothing to fear. It is coming alright. Maybe when we all go to sleep and forget this day. Is it pain for some and joy for others.

XOXO,

El’Aundra

It’s not my forte to be a marketer. Or monetize. Therefore being someone that has to ask for help from others. But I have always dreamed of writing a book. And have always been writing.

So, when people talk down to me about being broke. Or not having money, I give them this website. Because I want you to see that there was 10 times this much in my possession at one point in time that should have been more of a focus to publish. I should have had a chance. Should have given myself more of a chance. And still believe that to be true. There is only half a reason for me to sit and listen to the advice of others and have the idea that I should do things the old-fashioned way. But please understand I know me best. And if you even tried to be honest with yourself and stopped deceiving me just to play gingerbread house, I would be getting paid by a publishing house.

No gumdrops and frosting making things seem perfect because they aren’t. Things are real. And sometimes, I feel like people down-play your capabilities because they are threatened by your potential. It is what it is.

I don’t loathe after anyone. Their money. Their lives. Their partners. I want for myself. I find it powerful that I want what I want for myself. I know what I want to make myself happy. So when I look at my writings, and even when I am writing things; I don’t have a feeling in my heart that I want someone else’s success.

What your success means to you, isn’t the same for me. I am grateful for what I have. The relationships that I have. What words I have on my heart. And the growth ahead of me. And if it wasn’t for my faith and strong relationship with GOD, you would see a very different side of me.

It was in high school the girl gave me a dog that set my heart free. A wonderful rottweiler I had in high school. His name was Niko. He was a very vivacious dog. At the time I was young, of course. In a sort-of relationship and trying to mitigate that while being in high school. I didn’t really have a ton of help with the dog, but I managed as best as I could. I remember not being good with budgeting. Not being good with being on top of things. But angry at myself more than not. And yet, mistakes happen. I must have had the dog 6 months. Then it was time for me to move back home with my mom. The dog can’t come. Her landlord didn’t allow pets. So I knocked on someone’s door and asked them to please take my dog. The house was yellow. And they said they would. I remember seeing the dog crawling around in the grass getting familiar with the surroundings. I was fine with where my heart was at then. I was beyond sad. Not knowing anything about eviction courts and how they could help you. How social services could help you stay in your apartment. And pride was larger than the Amazon. I didn’t ask for help to stay where I was. I don’t beat myself up much about that anymore. I loved that apartment, nonetheless. The relationship was only a couple months and by the time I had given up Niko, the relationship had already ended.

Mya was a dog that I had fostered for a little bit. My daughter loving her so much. But I found someone who wanted to take care of her. Although she was a sweet little thing. We kept her for a short period of time. I remember taking a selfie with her in my 2001 Ford Taurus SE. I was going through the LPN program at the time, and my landlords found out that I had a dog and started complaining about me having a pet. Albeit I would have gladly paid extra to keep the dog. I was working two jobs at the time and trying to go to school and be a mother as much as I could. It wasn’t the schedule; it was life. And I was grateful for the time we had with her. She was a cocker spaniel mix. I was single at this time.

There was a dog a couple years after that in Buffalo that we had fostered for a few weeks. She was quite a sweet one as we came to discover. She just had a slight urination problem and the owners were definitely wanting her back. She was very sweet. A cocker spaniel mix. I was single at this time.

I am possessive about my kids and my pets. We have had fish, and other pets. I guess to explain it, I don’t like people coming into our lives trying to take over. I get so territorial over my kids it’s insane. A relationship is like “No, you will not take my kids to school. I will fucking do it.” My children are not used to seeing me in a relationship with someone that isn’t their father. So, they alone are territorial about their mother being in a relationship. But I don’t fall back on a relationship by nature. I fall back to being single. And they know that. That’s their peace. Have me all to themselves. They will get very angry and upset. The man will complain that he can’t build a relationship with my kids. And I will likely think or say “I don’t know what to tell you, they don’t want you to get close to me. They are used to their mother being theirs.“

I am so insanely provincial about my way of life and thinking when it comes to these types of situations in life. So, it’s taken with great understanding how the mental turmoil you go through in a relationship can affect the way a pet is cared for. Keeping in mind a pet can’t go to the fridge and get its own food. And when I make my dog treats from scratch and the food from scratch it is with care and love just as with my own kids. But when you have someone in your personal life that is cheating on you or betraying you and not being honest about who they are as a person; let alone their indiscretions it causes a subconscious failure in my mind. And I start to see it in how I act.

Sadie was a dog that we had driven out to the middle of nowhere to pick up. And I had gotten into a relationship at a point afterwards. It was pretty revealing how a relationship alters the quality of life of everyone in your life. She needed to be groomed so much. And it was expensive. I remember asking for help to pay for the grooming, and although I had already been dealing with financial issues of my own; I wanted to lean on the person I was with at the time. That help wasn’t really there. I got behind on the care of her coat immensely and eventually just asked him to please find her home. In my heart I wanted to be done with the relationship’s toxicity and go back to being a mom with pets as I always had been. Because the care had been so low I was embarrassed. He would talk bad to me about my failures as a pet owner and I understood my faults but didn’t know how to express that my substance abuse (for the first time in my life) was also a reason I needed this relationship to end more than I needed to get rid of the dog. The dog was there for our emotional support always in my house. Substance abuse was never something I leaned on in life. I smoked marijuana at 28 years old. Tried cocaine at 34. I don’t recommend the later. But marijuana is a natural impress from earth. And that I was thankful for; but innately I am not used to leaning on alcohol or even marijuana for an escape. If I am in pain, I will forget that there is Tylenol available and power through the pain. That’s just the type of person I am. In this post “As God Intends” I talk a little about my accident where I fell out of a 3rd story window about 6 weeks before my 3rd birthday. And the way my grandmother handled pain management with me as a child was impeccable. Because even as a teen, and adult I never leaned on pain medication. Always testing my pain tolerance and strength. If she had been a different type of caretaker (my mother and uncle too), I would have used stronger medication to bury the pain throughout my life. Instead of finding more holistic and spiritual ways to rid myself of it. I was grateful that Sadie found a home. Another cocker spaniel mix with a beautiful loving personality. I was torn at that time. The kids absolutely loved that dog. But the person I was with did not, and I did not have the proper representation to get my house back to what I was always used to having which was singularity as the head of household; taking care of children that depended on me.

Justice was a godsend. I remember getting the call from my friend asking me to care for her. I couldn’t wait to get her. She was so protective and inquisitive and just a very interesting personality. And at the time she came, it was right after Sadie had left. “You need a dog in your house that can protect you” is what my friend said, “I can’t take care of her because I work too much, and my landlord won’t let me have her.” I was fine with that. Purina Pro Plan was her food that she preferred. Sometimes making homemade food for her, and she was a very large rottweiler. We had a cat at the time, and the two had to be separated by a gate in the house because the dog would want to eat the cat. When I got evicted, I was too low and depressed to ask for help because I wanted to do it myself. Being guilt tripped into the whole “We have to stay together for us” wasn’t my sense of peace. I wanted to be single and go back to the life I was always used to. Being a strong independent woman with no bullshit in my house. So measuring up in court was not something I wanted to do with someone standing by my side that expected to have a home to stay in and just lay around and do nothing. Which is what that was. I felt like I can save myself, so why are you here if you don’t plan on being a part of saving “us” as a family but are willing to let things fall apart because you don’t want to contribute? It made no sense. As most mind games that people play don’t. And so I faltered. Admittedly I gave up on so many things and lost my mind in many ways. Locking out and just keeping my house to myself was what I desperately wanted but I didn’t know how to ask for help with that from the people around me. I tried. And they would talk to me like shit. Because I was weening off of cocaine and keeping it a secret that I was not asking for help from a counseling center, I was not willing to go to rehab. Just wanted to be done with it in general. I remember sitting out in front of my house and telling a friend at the time that I didn’t know how to get rid of the energy in my house without just packing up and moving. I felt like if I could have had Debo from Friday come in and stay for a week with his wife watching the kids I would have been fine. But I didn’t have that. If I had a family member come in and just intuitively know what I needed without asking. I was so used to my grandmother knowing what I needed when I was younger and hurting. I was so used to me taking care of myself and knowing what I needed. But when someone gets in your face and scares you into sitting and listening to the worst parts of life that are about to unfold in front of you; you sometimes oblige with what they have to say. And I let things go.

Homeless in a matter of time. I had let Justice go to a man that had a Newfoundland, and she was in love with that Newfie. You could see the love in their eyes. I was ok with that. I was thankful for the family and friends that I did reach out to. But I wanted to see if I could try and heal my broken heart and strengthen myself. I remember sleeping behind my storage unit with the dog for a couple nights. It was peaceful for me. I don’t think it was peaceful for anyone else. But it was something that I look back on now and say “I know I could have done more.”

I left cocaine behind in May 2023. Picked a line back up in November 2023 and again in January 2025. And said to myself “That’s it. This shit does nothing for me.” That was the honest truth. Not even marijuana heals a part of me that’s missing anymore. Is it the pets? Is it the children? The house? The social gatherings?

It’s me. I was missing the me that I was without all of that stuff. I missed my Topamax. I missed not having migraines. And man, would I get them a lot. I missed being able to sit and have a Southern Tier 2x IPA without wanting 8 of them just to numb the pain. I wanted me back. Sometimes looking in the mirror and crying. Hating myself. So, I remember I went through a period where I put trash bags up to the mirrors. I know my kids likely didn’t understand what that was. Mommy hated herself for a long time because she was comparing herself to so many people and things in life and not measuring up. She hated that she had lied about things in life just to get by. Telling people, it was my house that was built down south. It was an ex whose parents built it. And I was embarrassed that he didn’t want to have a lifelong love with me. But we had gone and looked at Ryan Homes, but I wasn’t really ready to be a part of the buying process because of my credit. I didn’t want to leave my child at home. I wanted to stay home. He thought I was just being lazy. And when I look at that now, I realize there was always a desire to be something. There just might not have been enough time to explain to someone what I wanted to be. So that they could help me become that. Not only for myself, but for my children.

It wasn’t until I was hating myself for depending on a substance to get me through that I had looked at myself and said “Although you don’t lie very much, you can’t be a liar at all; really. It’s not a good look.” I became angry. Wanting to be honest. Craving those deep raw honest conversations about how I felt about everything under the sun. Because I know I have always had an opinion and a voice. It’s just the overshadowing of my insecurities that made me want to hide at times.

Growing up, if we stomped in the house my grandmother would make us walk up and down the stairs 20 times. So that we learned the lesson. It made me crave a part of myself that was obsessed about getting it right, no matter how many times I have to keep falling down and trying.

XOXO,

El’Aundra

I would sometimes dream of love and falling in it over and over. Even with the times that I was in it for however short or long the period was, I was grateful. Things changed over time. Secretive about how badly I would want it to work out. Tarnished by the lack of honor I would give to a thought over time. It dissipated. I would have such a bounding love in my heart when I was younger. Dreaming of a lace white dress. Dreaming of someday saying yes. Someday having a dream like that come true.

I was just crying and said aloud “I am so terrified of love that I want to go to the psych ward and cry for days, weeks, months.” Sometimes I ask myself what happened in life to make me come to this point. And maybe it’s a selfish one. Never married. I smile so hard because I would wonder

“Are you serious? You’re smiling sweetie pie.” I doubt you want to marry me.

Twice they were joking. And one time, I wondered how I would heal myself and be good enough to be a wife at this point. Contemplating the vitality. And I think sometimes that has more to do with my trauma than I give it credit for. Forgive me, I just don’t expect someone to fall in love, want to be married to me, want to be faithful, etc.

Sometimes dreaming of the seriousness in the matter. Because I need to believe in something greater than me sometimes. Knowing sometimes I encountered love so sour in relationships that they would want to do whatever they could to make sure my next relationship wasn’t happy, lucrative, fruitful or anything. They would stand in between me and a millionaire and anything else that glittered no matter the salary. Some of their best friends being lawyers, psychologists, social workers, police etc. And that idea that I deserve better “can’t get too loud” in the microphone. So, to make sure they have a way to keep me down and they have a way to keep themselves up; there will be an imbalance for me and a balance for them. Sadistic is what it is. There were relationships and friendships in the past that I could not open up to because I felt horrible crying in front of them. It was the narcissist inside themselves that they refused to heal or recognize. They would sit there and yell at me while I am crying, tell me I am too emotional, I am a scared little girl running or just be of no use at all because they would rather me sit off in a corner balling my eyes out. And only come back to them when I have contained my emotions. *eyerolls beyond belief right now.

What’s that worth in the end?? NOTHING BUT TURMOIL.

SADISTIC: Deriving pleasure from inflicting pain, suffering, or humiliation on others.

SOCIOPATH: Someone living with antisocial personality disorder, a condition in which one ignores societal norms, possesses little to no conscience, lacks empathy for others, and is completely self-serving.

We are all worth a better version of ourselves. But often-times I would be confused with their inner feelings.

That is just not me. I have a ton of empathy, and a ton of respect for rules, rights and others.

It made me so hurt that someone would joke about that. It is the look in your child’s eyes when they ask you about your experiences with love. When they want to know what it feels like to be married. To be in love. To have those experiences in life that show you someone truly loves you.

I will sometimes get so upset and say I “never” experienced a certain type of admiration, then remembering that I experienced it once or twice but since I wanted it more and didn’t get it; it felt like never to me. Because it went right back to me not mattering to the person anymore. I only mattered for that time being it seemed. Which hurt the most. After I was done being your babysitter; I was nothing to you. After I was done being your girlfriend I meant nothing. After I was done being your scapegoat for womanizing I meant nothing anymore.

Sometimes when I go and tell the doctor about migraines they ask how often I have them. Rather frequently. And I have to stop myself from crying or it will get worse. What if dreaming of love makes you cry. What if watching a romance movie makes you cry? What if it never did before? What if the songs in my heart are blues songs but I am not willing to teach myself to play acoustic guitar just to be on stage and cry in front of an audience. I can barely find a man that loves me enough to wipe my tears better than my kids will when I answer that question with “Your momma is one of the strongest women and doesn’t have to have a relationship to prove she’s worth loving beloved. And neither do you. You have to love yourself first and I love you unconditionally. Which is how someone should always love you.”

But the amount of time I spend crying? So fucking much time is spent crying. Over and over and over and over and over again. I often don’t know what to say. How to stop the tears and eventually I get so tired from the migraine I just go to sleep. Fuck the bones creaking. Fuck the arms hurting. Fuck whatever I am going through in life. I will do whatever healing I need to, so I don’t associate with this pain. It’s an indescribable pain. To see yourself as something more. Someone more. But your disbelief in how disassociated you are with wanting love for yourself is overpowering. And I find it quite selfish for me to sit here and say that I deserve it from another man or woman for a lifetime. Do I deserve to give it to myself for a lifetime? Absolutely. And I promise to make sure my kids and family see me struggle and climb to the top. Because I know there’s more inside of me as far as emotional and spiritual pain that keeps me from succeeding in certain areas of life.

Watching this documentary, someone said “The man was a womanizer” and I responded under my breath “And here I am 37 years old and a good woman and have been giving up on love for so many years. Terrified of what it means.”

I think more foreign than familiar to have someone want to sit and listen to you talk or cry. Or try and figure you out. And it breaks my heart that so many times, so many people have tried to assist with my healing, but I cannot find answers. How desperately a woman wants a back rub when she is in pain during that time of the month. And I make sure I power through it. No matter how many times in a month I will encounter the pain due to stress. Have I always been this insecure about love and relationships?

It started when I was consistently criticized for not looking like someone else. Not being like someone else. Not being good enough. Graceful enough. Not being enough in general. And it wasn’t through one grapevine that I would eventually find the truth. It was straight from the source and sometimes all over the berry bush. It would seem that sometimes people would know this fear inside of me and what it would do because they had a part in why I felt this way about myself anyways.

Thinking to myself, I want to throw away this bear that I bought myself over 6 months ago because I had wanted it to console me like a husband would because I remember being a little girl dreaming of that day, I would be a wife. Someday I had wished. And in that instant I saw myself throwing the bear away and wanting one that was much bigger like a Lovesac. I was the woman that wanted to be the stay-at-home mother. Homeschooling her kids. And I was always looking at myself through different lenses than others.

Philophobia is defined as:

Philophobia is the fear of love or becoming emotionally connected with another person. It can negatively impact relationships and may stem from painful experiences such as breakups or abandonment. Symptoms can include anxiety, dizziness, and avoidance of romantic situations. Treatment options often include psychotherapy to help individuals overcome this specific phobia.

I feel lost because of this. Inadequate. And yet what book is there to heal this? Is there a blanket? It’s quite probably one of the most difficult things for me to grasp because of my alternative and lifelong desire for love and stability and ability to extend my family. But I would dream of a man getting down on one knee and then cry because if I could just explain it better, I would feel better.

It is not that I would have an issue being faithful, it’s sometimes those inherent abandonment issues that lie dormant for years because you feel like you need to work on yourself more. And at times I feel stuck. I would never want someone to explain how I feel and get it wrong so I make sure I am as descriptive as possible on here when I write. Scared to open up.

So many people go through the same emotions, and they are just trying to prioritize things in life. Sometimes that is all we can do, is try and prioritize.

I would hope that one day someone would know what to do and how to be a strong man or woman that could get it right. But the fight just continues to fall on my shoulders at times, and that’s what makes me cry so much. I don’t trust the nature of most men these days. Females as well. It’s entirely hard to open up and have a consistent dignified relationship without turmoil. And I despise arguments. I am not a jealous female. Not someone who likes to fight, be vindictive or coerce a way of living that is toxic for the family. Sometimes it’s the inability for someone to be on the same page. The inability for them to want to do the right things. And it prevents me from wanting to spend forever with them, let alone a day. Most people see me cry because of how gaslighting and manipulative some closest to me can be, and they don’t care. Albeit the way I want them to care or just learning how to care genuinely. But the revelation of the tribulations I go through will always remind me that sometimes I do want to be single more than attached for these very reasons I have explained.

I may get mad and yell “Do not touch me.” Will you still surpass that and give me a hug regardless? I don’t like my family seeing me upset but a husband or partner was always considered a “vault” to me. Sure, your children want to establish a relationship with their parent. And it’s beautifully welcomed by me. Always. But if I cannot rely on a partner’s strength to consistently provide the love (much like a child), I have a hard time believing you will stay around or even want to stay around.

By nature, a child wants to constantly receive that love from their parents. And they will draw you pictures out of the most amazing tools and techniques. Thats the resilient love I am talking about. And how a child is willing to make you smile no matter how many tears. The beauty is in someone being willing to express that love through the good and the bad. I have to wrap my head around that existing in a partner. Because I have always had that love from my kids.

An infinite love, or unconditional love from someone else (as a partner) to me seems so impossible and foreign. You think I am beautiful, and I appreciate that. My beauty is in what I was able to give this earth and the world. Sometimes I am broken and expended. But that’s ok. I am a work in progress.

I will want to take my children to the park. Sing along with them. Paint with them.

But cry in front of you? No. That I mustn’t do if I have no security and safety in this space we have between us. Sometimes not being able to discern how strong the security and safety is because I get tired of people requiring that I need to explicitly ask for their help. I am just an intuitive person, and I don’t know how to ask is the excuse I put up. Sometimes it’s not that I don’t know how to ask. It’s that I am too emotional, I view this perspective they have towards helping me as volatile and want to struggle and succeed on my own as a woman. Because I don’t believe in the ROI when I have to be less of a strong individual to receive the help I genuinely need.

I hate distributing blame. I blame myself. Therefore, I want people to go find love despite us not being able to succeed at our love.

If you have experienced this, I really hope you find healing. I know I do for myself. And if you’re a parent I know it’s even harder to digest. I have to be accountable for my involvement in my feeling this way because there were times men and women wanted love and all I wanted was for them hold my face in their hand so that I could cry and explain what happened to me over time. If you have someone willing to stick with you and consistently give you the strength you need to open up, don’t let that go. My tears are streaming down my face as I type this sentence. Don’t let that go.

We can all find the love we need. I sometimes tell people I have to leave to reset.

“I have to run to the mountains.”

When, in my heart there’s a desire for them to tie a rope around my waist. Because I am really running from a fear. I will be able to come back around. Finding my place in life can be harder than I initially thought. The devastation. The shock. I don’t even reach for a Tylenol bottle until I realize the pain is unbearable.

But I am not necessarily lost. Maybe a little more confused. Unsettled. Not at ease, as I am used to being. I knew from a young age that I was meant to be a mother, a writer, maybe sing to some (bullfrog to others), an inspiration, a friend, a daughter, a comedian and more.

It’s just hard for me to comprehend how for so long I would sit and be strong for a few years, then set aside how I feel only to push past the pain and then break down for a year or two and not going full steam ahead at my dreams or the dreams of my family and friends. Adequately wondering what more I can do to prove myself.

The one thing I don’t want is someone thinking it’s impossible to love another person who is terrified of love or marriage. I had just been going through it for years.

“What is this I ask God.”

XOXO,

El’Aundra

Dear Lord:

Thank you for today. Thank you for my life. Thank you for this beautiful salad. Because too often I starve myself when I am stressed.

I had thought on more than one occasion that I would encounter a type of alternative thinking that was inherently against what we are usually taught from a young child. To befriend others. To be a good person to others. To know the difference between right and wrong.

I thought to myself about the basis of some of the adult friendships we have in life. How valuable they are. How real they are. How much does someone love you versus hate you and do you know the difference.

It was years ago, but I was talking to him about my friends. “I just feel like she doesn’t respect me. She is one of the most self-centered, selfish people I have met in a long time. She acts like she has an attraction in more than a friend way; but doesn’t understand that I am a different type of person and need to know that I feel comfortable to just say I will be more than your female friend. When she talks sometimes, it’s like she would hold a grudge if I ever opened myself up to her emotionally.”

He rolled his eyes. “Girls and their issues. Why have you never dated a woman anyways?”

I asked “Well, have you dated a man?”

He said no. He has not found a man that he can come to a place of comfort with, in that way. There was always something about the situation or the person. “Sometimes, I would just have a one-night stand because I was desperate for the experience. It was nice at the time. Other times, it would be the person I wanted, but they might not be interested.”

Understandable.

“Was there ever a time where you felt like you wanted to hate someone for not giving you a chance?”

“No” he replied. “What the fuck is the point in that? There are so many opportunities for that in life in general. But I love my freedom to choose. What about you?”

“Absolutely not” I replied. “I can’t fathom wasting my talents and time hating someone because I didn’t have a chance or don’t have something or someone they have. Being that I know I am not like that, I was always able to avoid certain females and men for the most part. One wrong move such as ignoring that type and they want to decimate your entire world and make you into the bad person.”

“My point exactly” he said.

“But that’s why I feel the way I do bro! I really don’t think this is the type of female that would be civil. I feel like she would come into my house and go through my body wash and perfume. Sending the man’s types to her male friends and the female’s types to her female friends. All the while hating me.”

“You’re not wrong for thinking or feeling that way. I have had that happen to me before. This friend of mine was only around because of one of my exes. And it wound up being one of the worst times I have ever had in my life. I don’t know if it was the secrecy or if it was my inability to connect with someone like that. But I was over it.”

As I make my burger in my room, I just thought about that conversation. And how sometimes we don’t recognize how someone truly feels until we ask, or they tell us. There can be many factors in dating (even for myself) as to why I refuse to open up to someone. I will say some entirely sarcastic shit because I feel different about myself and my time than someone else does. I feel like it’s necessary to feel safe in a relationship of any kind. And most often, I don’t feel safe. There’s something or someone you’re hiding sometimes and that creates a conflict that makes me want to be without you and alone.

XOXO,

El’Aundra

If in the event that someone tells me “Nobody Cares”, I will laugh in their face. I can’t spit in it because that is considered a level of disrespect I dare not approach. But not even in the lightest terms should I have to explain it in this way. I am not a person who likes seeing others in pain. But I do know that people like to dish out vengeance. I take solace in my strength being the one thing you will likely be threatened by, and you will want to affect. I would want you to know that there’s no reason for me to touch you in the name of vengeance. What will kill your soul is my strength when facing adversity. I trust in God before trusting you. Always. My words simply, with love and sealed. You cannot tell me that there isn’t someone who cares enough to want to see me paid $4 per word. He might love me enough to argue more per word. And if it isn’t you or that isn’t here yet for me, understand that God can create it for me. I have full belief in that. And no fear in you at that point. You would sooner want to see me fail. Not writing. Not inspired. Not motivated. Just wavering and wilting. That’s not every human. I get chills when I read what I write. Imagine going through it. Imagine loving me because I went through it. That’s chilling in itself. Strengthening my emotional intelligence with every keystroke.

That is bullshit.

It’s not up to me to make you cry. If you choose to cry that is on your own. But when you dispel pain and unfairness on others and expect them to cry; you might be met with the devil. I cannot bring you to my God. Not with me at least. How am I supposed to pray with you. I will always pray for you. I cannot bring you to my Bible and sooner pray for you unless you’re willing. You say nobody cares right? Shaking in between breaths of despair the gut-wrenching truth is that I will not cry before you. You will cry at my truth and feelings about how you hurt me before I ever cry more about how badly it hurts. In retrospect the pain circumference surrounds us. You’re thinking you can suffocate me. Paralyze me. Have me begging and crawling back on my knees thinking I need you. Not to feel better about myself, no. Because in fact if you were concerned about how good I SHOULD feel about myself you would understand what confidence the Lord’s blessings actually bring to me. What if you aren’t that blessing when you say that? Just a curse. A representation of the weakness I had once. The control you had over me once.

Again, I say I will not make you cry as bad as your mother can. Because again, I am a mother. And when my children cry; I cry. And I know how that feels. But I will make sure you know that I am a mother. Who not only has respect for herself but one who has cried because of you and your pain. Maybe more than once. Maybe longer than a day. And maybe your mother cries because you have no concern for the pain you put me through. The disrespect. The ignorance. The insight on how you are superior to me. And I need to bow to you. As if you are God. And what hurts me and concerns me even more, is your willingness to act as if you are trustworthy enough to not play God. But you aren’t. So, you will try. And I cannot account for him blocking you from that attempt. But I can account for him consoling the pain in my heart because your hatred is an existence in my presence that I resent.

What if God isn’t there for you when you need his presence? Because you refuse? Not because in actuality he isn’t there. HE IS ALWAYS THERE.

You’re insecure with my confidence and strength. And you blame me. When you are knowing that God has an open-door policy. You just refuse to abide. All-encompassing jealousy and insecurities, you need healing. And I cannot promise that I am your answer if that’s all you can say to me is

‘NOBODY CARES’

Especially since every word on this blog speaks to my life experiences in love, friendship, parenting, fashion, makeup and more.

That will never be me. That is what I say to myself. I will never be you. And likely because of your continued hatred for me; I can never be with you.

Romans 12:19— “Vengeance is mine; I will repay says the Lord”

Deuteronomy 32:35— “Vengeance is mine and recompense, and their foot shall slip in due time; for the day of their calamity is at hand, and the things that shall come upon them make haste.”

XOXO, El’Aundra

Take a deep breath. I consider myself to be a non-fiction writer. This is just how I think. And I am tired of being underestimated.

I have been watching movies and documentaries lately that are more emotional, and more reality based than usual. I will be completely honest I was so excited to get the microwave. I remember looking up an electrical program and just what they learn about because I thought it was pretty neat. I have sometimes looked up electrical things like plugs and conduits. Inquisitive at best. It’s not a factory installed plug that’s on the microwave. I looked at Walmart for a new microwave. $50 dollars. Not too expensive. But not what I want to spend. Mini crock with auto shutoff it is. If I was not in the disposition I am in; homeless living out of a hotel (and living in my apartment) then I would have just gotten rid of a microwave that had that issue. I have always lived on my own for the last 20 years. And I have been driving for 23. It would just make more sense to me and my current eating habits to consider letting the microwave sit there and buy what appliances I need to function mentally and environmentally until I get another place. I need to eat more salad. I MISS BEING VEGAN. So, in a sense it really doesn’t anger me that someone would consider me to be irritated at that microwave, but I like things a certain way. I will take care of it myself because there’s obtusely an issue with so many things right now with that picture in my mind. It sounds really facetious to sit here and use that appliance. I am grateful for the place of shelter. I remember being a kid and reading my uncles book laying around the house as a kid. He was going to do some things in my grandmother’s house like fix the deck and other stuff. A lot of projects around the house. Tea kettle that’s electric was necessary. Need to get back into the Chai and Detox vibe. I miss being Vegan all the time.

I guess life has found me with strength and the ability to want to focus on whether I have it in me to continue with nursing ambitions. Physically? Emotionally? Sometimes it takes longer for me to get a start on something new recently because these are not circumstances that I feel make sense enough for me to make decisions that satisfy only me. It really isn’t a time to be selfish. That’s the most I can say.

Far too stressed with my PTSD. Which reminds me to give you a few documentaries I am loving about PTSD. Here are a couple of documentaries I loved: Light in the darkness: Living well after trauma, What lies inside: Healing in the faces of trauma. I love to work. I like to stay busy at home and at work. Being creative as much as possible. I grew with the intellect that work was always something that you can increase stability in. For me, it wound up being the one thing I could not find stability in. Or peace. Or trust.

Peace… I cannot take a mental break when I am visibly having a panic attack and breaking down? I work on the floor overnight alone. No person comes from the floor downstairs and willingly helps. You have to pretty much beg. Which I am not doing. I will just take care of it myself, so I don’t have to hear the bs. But when we work together, I will have negative zero conversation because I need to be laser focused in case you want to be lackadaisical.

Trust... I cannot trust the people I work with. I cannot trust that they will tell the truth. You stand in front of me and lie to me. And all I want to do is work and pay my financial debts in life.

I do not want to be you.

I have sometimes been caught in a rut and started being angry at myself for not having more precise direction with a degree path earlier in life. I take a lot of how people are cared for to heart. And I wish I was less people-pleasing and so sympathetic to the demands of the group homes, and nursing homes. Work and home was the pattern. With work being less sympathetic to home and my personal strife. Possibly taking more time to seek other opportunities such as Graphic Design. I have done some amazing things and some serious things with Graphic Design and wanted to give back to the art community in a different way. What’s serious is remorse. Something I have done since middle school. Engineering/Design. And most times that one field I was so passionate about that I could feel it was nursing. Getting an RN. But I truly loved taking in every minute of life and figuring out my emotions more as a person. A mother. A coworker. A human. That way I can be more self-aware and be a better mother, coworker, human and more. There have been a multitude of reasons why I have wanted to pursue and reasons I have wanted to hold back. Fear sets us back sometimes. I loved music at one point too. Would write many poems and songs. It is within our own hearts, the capabilities at times to heal and be more. Let alone better. Some things that really get you thinking. And when I get thinking and I am watching a movie alone; I have a lot of commentary. I can get loud. And I have an opinion on everything. What Kamala Harris had said stuck with me “They punish the truth tellers.” If I was a Director of Nursing that would not be my M.O. I want you to understand the facets of telling the truth. Understand the pain of what telling the truth can cause as well as the pain it can free.

Often people lie about their own capabilities to tell the truth. I do believe that we should think deeper into why a much earlier beginning in psychology would be more helpful in our everyday lives. I know I remember talking to an ex-boyfriend about being hit by another ex-boyfriend once. He was talking to a friend on the phone and said this:

“I hate that bitch. I would just go around to as many people as I could and tell them to lie as much as they can about her just to ruin her reputation. Fuck her.” That stuck with me. Do I take this for what it is? Or what it seems to be. It doesn’t seem like love. It seems like hate. Just because your boyfriend buys you flowers to apologize for physically hurting you doesn’t mean he’s sorry. Read this book. “Why Does He Do That” by Lundy Bancroft. I have read that book and it substantiates what you can avoid. I was writing a book Duality in the Rescue Mission in 2023. It’s about me being told about my birth. And my twin being deceased. My strength and grief from that. How I always had a desire to change the world for the better. Give love as much as I can.

Sometimes people would talk about the militance I have in life for my emotions. And I think that sometimes if everything is a joke to you; you can often be the type of person to want to make everything into a lie. Not everything is a joke to me. And I don’t like the way lying feels. And I think too much about things to sit and have time for the pain a lie can truly cause. Versus sitting and thinking about more and more lies to come up with to cause more pain. You are always best coming to me and asking me. Rather than expecting me to be the type of person to lie. I always think of myself as having to look at another person in the eyes, and when we speak, I like to feel trust in your eyes or else its awkward. Lying to someone and being lied to can be something that makes communication quite uncomfortable. I know for me personally, trauma led to me feeling like that.

Telling me to go cry in a corner.

Telling me that I am running away like a scared little girl.

Telling me that I am my own worst enemy.

Telling me that it’s the men I am dating.

When knowing good and damn well all the men likely sit around and said for decades that “she can’t get better that xyz.” And since you read what someone said in quotations, you can understand how that contributes to them affecting anything further in the future. So, I relinquish any involvement at all. No engagement. No energy expelled. Just stay away from me. Think about that, a man says to you (“I hate that bitch. I would just go around to as many people as I could and tell them to lie as much as they can about her just to ruin her reputation. Fuck her.”)

He will think he is the best I can get, or he will be a scumbag and stand in the way of me getting anything better. Be careful because your friends can be like that too. Girlfriends are thirsty and want what you don’t want or what you can get because they don’t want what they can get. Knowing the objective is TO HURT YOU.

I wondered about the importance of psychology sessions at work. Workbooks. On-call help. When you need it. As my overnight mind thinks, I would walk through the halls and want a therapist right next to me. But at 3 am that’s not possible. So how do we mitigate that? Make it more of a muscle to strengthen, and less of a voice to silence. Let’s say the home life is anything but positive and we need a little more than work there. It’s negative. No intimacy. No trust. No security. No romance. Just nothing. We walk into work, stay there for 8-16 hours out of the day and sometimes 5-7 days a week. Why is it that we should

a) Hold other people responsible for our “downfall in life” [if we experience one]? What that means is, if we are going through something, why can we not remove ourselves from what we are going through? If you need to walk away from an argument for a while because it’s stressing you out; I mean, be sensible. I hate people following me. Don’t follow me. I don’t like arguments with my significant others. I would just rather not have one instead of arguing. I don’t believe in that rhetoric that people have where they say to you (in a snarky tone) “You take yourself too seriously.” When you actually don’t. I know I don’t. I am already disappointed in myself for dealing with these types of men in my life and taking time rebuilding myself at the expense of their laughter has taken a toll. So, fuck them. Not literally either.

When I was at work one time I was berated by my supervisor because of my desire to take a break while we were serving trays in the nursing home. Which I have come to hate as a rule. It is rather insensitive. Sometimes it doesn’t apply to certain situations and can really land people in a psychologically damaging environment at work. It can become toxic. There of course many other examples other than that work, but this is what I was thinking in my mind:

“There are times where even God himself is calling us to take a break and he will always take precedence in my life before you when it comes to my mental health. I have to apologize but when it comes to my work ethic, quality of work and passion for doing the job; I am impeccable, pleasant and like to learn. I would also like the same respect I give you. Which is this same courtesy reciprocated and more.“

b) Think that we don’t need help. There are so many reasons we don’t ask for help. There was a single mother that was in the streets at one point in her life in the Crack: Cocaine, Corruption & Conspiracy Documentary Watching the documentary I was thinking to myself, I wonder how many people that were my age at this time were dealing with the drugs being introduced to the streets in the 80’s. I remember her saying how the streets and the gang life hardened her and she wished it hadn’t. What if there are things about our trauma and our past that make it so we are fearful of how we will be percieved when we ask for help? Meaning, if this woman went to someone in 1989 and asked for help and sat at DSS for 7 hours, would there be a struggle with her reputation etc? You know there would. And you know there would be talk about her children, her addiction, her life in the streets. And the one thing that people say when they are healing (which we know will help us and others heal) but sometimes we use that to our advantage when we are trying to control or get over on someone. Which is to say that you aren’t going to be shit. You aren’t going to do shit. Nobody cares. Then the negative cheerleaders surrounding you that hate you even asking for help will start to lie. For various reasons of course. And don’t get me wrong, you may have some positive cheerleaders too. What if you don’t want to deal with those rumors? What will you do to avoid them? Not go down to the Department of Social Services? Not go to rehab? Not get help? And with an open mind and open heart. I want you to think about things in the way that I did. Because I am always in my head. And was tired of my thoughts being a prison for a man that hurt me instead of it being truth. And the truth doesn’t have to be twisted to make you look like the valiant savior that you weren’t if in fact you weren’t. You hated me succeeding. Or the idea thereof.

I am sure nurses and psychology students want to use films like American Nightmare to inspire their work. There is a part of the film where she is talking about how they told her that they will film the interaction so that she doesn’t go to the police. When in fact some people play the opposite game and film anyways. Whether you go to the police or not, they have been paid and don’t care. And either way, someone wants to take you out or expose you and make you seem like a whore quite possibly. Hurt you etc.

What if the reason some of these things also were introduced were to strengthen people’s resistance to another person’s desire to bring them down because they were threatened by them? When you are threatened by someone, is it safe to say that you often try to “take them our” or “take them down”? Sometimes in itself, asking myself why.

My recommendation is to say to yourself “I have the power to say no, and raise my vibration, my mind and my soul’s vibration”

It is not impossible for someone to be threatened by another person, of course, but I am wondering what in someone’s life makes them feel the one perspective and no other perspective is valid? I had heard so many times the same response, but nobody was thinking in the way I was. If I give you something, you may the option to say no.

Because of the desire for someone greater than you to care. Sometimes people care in ways we don’t see. In ways we will never understand. It can be just as much the opposite. I often think why are we sitting back and watching some of these documentaries in such a negative light and being so upset instead of trying to see other sides? What if someone doesn’t necessarily know how to teach you to be who and what they want you to be because they might think you are like everyone else. Which in turn doesn’t give you a fair chance. I was washing my hands in the bathroom and thinking about when we were younger, how we were told that life isn’t fair. And no matter how you take that, as a child growing up; you begin to look at the world as if life isn’t fair. Keeping in mind that we are not often taught that we should not have expectations in life; we often-times do have expectations. And what if we expect that life won’t be fair for us, and we don’t have to be fair. So then, what if we think of life in the sense that life can be fair or life is fair. Because then not only would it be the opposite, but it would also be helpful in the sensitivity to us growing as people and having a deeper understanding and meaning to life and how we not only expect it to be (or in other words dream) or how we work for it to be.

And maybe it’s the big heart in me that hopes. Thinking that even if they had the heart like I do to sit back and say that I am not forcing you to be who I want you to be; I just have to be myself in order for this to be what we want it to be. I must say that one thing I do know about myself is that my ultimate partner for life needs to understand my heart is involved with how I think often times. And what if I know my trajectory in life is to follow God’s plan for me. Not yours always if it doesn’t align. But when that can change is if being with you is something that God has assigned to me. You’re mine. It is with all due respect I understand your desire to want to tell me how I should be, but what if I don’t want to be what you want me to be because I don’t trust you? Here is an example of what if there is no reason that you should be trusted because your intentions for me are ill-mannered and negative?

1. You’re going to have something to say about who I am as a person once you have already tried to change or have already changed who I am or was in the first place. Likely in a sarcastic, misogynistic and insulting form. Maybe once before I was nice, and now you feel like if you instigate arguments, you can “program” me to be mean. Which in turn can be a manipulative standpoint for you. At which point we sit there arguing back and forth about how I have changed and suddenly I need to change more to satisfy the “balance” in the control factors of our relationship OR I need to back down. Keeping informed, that people like this rarely back down and feel like they need to forfeit. Thinking about it further, what is it that makes you want to forfeit? Empathy. Sympathy. Perspective. Retroactively Thinking.
2. You’re not going to be able to handle the change. Whether it be a resistance to the change or circumstance, or you just not being happy with the change. There are ways in which the change itself can present a way in which you are given more than one way to see a person, and that in itself dissatisfies you so much that something else changes between the two of us. I am the type of person who has begun to have a hatred for being in a relationship that is surrounded by lies. Partially because of all of the circumstantial debt the person has to other people. They have built up a debt. It’s kind of like their sex life. And if you think of it as them having sex with one more person and that person has sex with 8 more people. Those 8 people then have sex with 10 people each. It eventually adds up. So does the emotional and spiritual debt and weight. And that’s not fair to expect someone to want to carry that for you.

I have loved my work in mental health, long term care, hospice, home care, youth-care, developmental disabilities care; so just understand. Not everything is what it seems.

XOXO,

El’Aundra

Tonight we are going to talk about Domestic Violence and how that contributed to me getting tattoos on my hips of pistols. I got tired of being used and mistreated. Never good enough to marry but told that the men loved other women; especially white women more. I might have not been worth much to a few. And what you will learn in life is that you must move on. I will tell you, there weren’t “many”… They want to shower me and take me out and treat me like the queen I am. setting me up for a fairytale that would never come. My independence came first for a long time. Until I got mad at myself for continuing to stand in front of the people who were trying to break down my strength and set me up for failure at times. Then blaming it on me that I did not succeed. Maybe so, but I think I would have succeeded more being in a healthy environment even if it was a world I created with boundaries. Where I don’t forgive you. I don’t answer your bullshit. I don’t engage in your rhetoric.

I am working through my mental today. Working through some flashbacks and on a scale of 1-10 as far as mental pain it’s a 5. I am watching a documentary on Netflix called Emergency NYC. Ignoring spam calls and looking at apartments. More-so looking at myself. I’ll also discuss other aspects of how this poetic writing blog has been a part of my world since 2008. I always hated when it was made to seem something else. Especially when I am such a multi-faceted person. Again, the mind is to be cherished. Not abused.

Later I will dissect. Every relocation. Every failed school subject. And WHY.

Believe in yourself.

Make it make sense for you. I would hate for someone else to tell you some shit about my thought process that isn’t true.

Stay strong no matter what color you are. No matter what gender. YOU deserve a love for YOU. That’s respectful and true. I am not mad I don’t have that. Not one bit. I could be alone for the rest of my life and just going back to school learning new things, and giving back to the world raising children, volunteering in soup kitchens and be just fine. Love is love. And everything is everything. And WE are everything. WE ALL ARE EVERYTHING.

Drank a pot of coffee.. Maxwell House. I didn’t sleep. Much like when I was working at People Inc. That’s how I would stay up. I was up ALL NIGHT.

XOXO

El’Aundra

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.