It’s been suggested by a few that maybe it’s best that my next blog begins with a positive spin versus one that eventually leads to such an ending. And then I’ve wondered, how could I accomplish this? Braggery, as I’d perceive it, or propping myself up on a pedestal, is one I’ve never been able to take the lead in. Unraveling hardships to find that gleam of light afterwards, well, now that is something I’ve been able to master.

Heartache, confusion, unsteadiness, uncertainty – these are just some of the emotions that come natural for me to express, where I can pour my thoughts into writings without hesitation nor embarrassment. But then I’ve realized that maybe it is time to acknowledge my feats and applaud myself. While heartache and derailment have been more common than not these past few years, I have to own up to the fact that there indeed is more to me than those moments, which should also compel me to write.

The naked truth is: I have risen up. I have detached myself from codependency. I have been both a father and a mother to my daughter. I have mustered up the courage to leave unhealthy relationships, both platonic and romantic, and equally as important, I have not returned to them even when the temptation was right before me. I have re-learned who I am without a partner. I have upheld my standards of continually seeking ways for introspective growth, refusing to believe that my growth has seen its course. I have rid myself of being closed-minded and rigid, which my religious upbringing bestowed upon me, and I have now embraced the essence of being the polar opposite – happily accepting the fact that life is not black and white, but instead it encompasses very many gorgeous shades of gray. I have taken the role of a guardian angel for my daughter to heart – yes, while I’m here living and breathing beside her. I have become my family’s stronghold during untimely losses. I have sustained a safe place, also known as ‘home,’ for my loved ones, even when I was crumbling from within. I have brought meaning to being a ‘true friend’ to others. I have led my life with a kind heart despite multiple times asking myself, ‘why is this happening to me?’

I have to admit that my eyes might mirror sadness, but they also simultaneously mirror strength. Each day comes with its singular or multiple internal struggles, albeit body issues, future wants, feelings of loneliness, and career analysis, but I’ve also accepted and have tried to harp on the fact that each day also comes with its singular or multiple external beauties – nature, family, friendships, and self-love. With the combination of both, my life’s struggles and beauties, I have been molded, and I am proud of the strong, steadfast, protective, loyal, sensitive lovebug that I am. I am proud of the fact that amid shuffling through my chaos, I have stayed sincere, hopeful and loving. I want to continue to be a beam of light and a dreamer because living in darkness is just not an option for me. And you, my dear reader, I’m certain are the same.

Each day brings its hurdles, its doubts, its trying moments of where we are unsure of how much more we can shoulder, but yet here you are. Yet, here I am. We could throw in the towel, but we won’t. We shall not. Each day we rise. Each day we take in all that’s given and tossed our way, and we seep through the obstacles to find that light, to find that purpose to move forward, and unbeknownst to us, this pattern, this routine of going through the mud and still smiling is where we become transformative; we are sharpening our strength. We are enhancing our beauty. So, take this moment, like I have, and applaud your feats because you are still standing, even when you underestimated that you would be.

You are here. I am here. Together, we both deserve that round of applause…

With each recent exhale I find myself seeking to release more than just air; I’m striving to release that of my current disappointment that my heart has sustained, in addition to the nonsense that my mind is trying to make sense of.

Contradiction and deception, these are traits I’m trying to wrap my head around. The comprehension isn’t regarding, Wow, how do people continue to do this? My puzzlement is regarding me. I’ve been there, done that, and yet I continue finding myself being there and doing that-accepting the contradictions and believing the deceit.

You spoke about an ‘us’ and a ‘we’ more times than not. I specifically harped on those words when spoken because I haven’t been the recipient of such wording for a while. Verbalizing those pronouns allowed me to hold on. They allowed me to envision a future; one that entailed a blending of families, travels and remarkable memories, but then the contradictions began, and the backpedaling sped up.

The irony of it all is you found me. You sought me out. I wasn’t looking for you. In fact, I had finally come to the conclusion that it could always just be me-Me, myself and I, as they say, but I was healed. I was healed from the trauma my previous relationships had given me. I was healed from struggling with low self-esteem. I was healed from the illusion that happiness is only paired with having a partner, and hence that is why when you voluntarily used verbiage that spoke of a future, I allowed my vulnerability to fully resurface and my guardedness to completely dissolve. Your words were your tactics.

My gut knew you were not my person, but my heart wanted you to be, and the love I acquired for you was one of purity. You saw it in my eyes. You felt it with my touch, and I was able to see snippets of your openness, softness, and thoughtfulness. We had some peaceful, organic moments. You allowed your emotions to be cradled by me, and this is how I fell for you. But we crumbled because of your perversions. Your fantasies allowed me to get unraveled from your web, and for this I thank you. Not another second, minute, hour, day nor month was my energy further intertwined with yours, but I could have done without your cunning ways. My self-esteem didn’t have to be your target.

You played a character for many, many months, but the role became too grand for you to maintain the act. You could not match your words with your actions. You could not continue to suppress your patterns, and because of this the ‘real’ you was becoming frustrated, weary and irritable. You felt absolutely suffocated, not because of my nurturing state, but because you were living a lie.

You don’t want commitment. You don’t want any strings attached, so why was it so difficult to be upfront, honest and clear with what your intentions were? The direct answer is: Because that would take maturity and unselfishness. You’re not a one-woman man because you continuously want your ego stroked. You want to secretly banter with and entertain as many women as you can. You are scheming and calculated, traits I suspected, but I foolishly disregarded.

So now with this new-found freedom here’s something you can do; Gain some morals. Simmer down your addictions. Resolve your anger. Address your demons. Learn to be the example on how to treat women with respect, dignity, and loyalty. Acquire emotional maturity. Stop playing the role of a victim when you’re the one victimizing.

As for myself, I need to sharpen my discernment and selectivity. I need to stop compromising my peace. I need to discontinue wanting to heal, love and show immediate generosity to those undeserving. In fact, let me just be frank. I need to stop settling. Disappointed, yet not destroyed, is the state I’m currently in. The wind got knocked out of me, yes, but I haven’t fully fallen…nor will I.

I hope you know that I’ve given my all in this journey. I never aimed to cause any ruckus, worries or uncertainties in your mind. I’ve tried to keep my composure at the most crushing of times, and when I failed in this aspect, I tried to water down my deep-rooted pain, pain that I knew I had to process in private and eventually purge just the same. It’s been so long, it being just you and I, so as I see you growing up, growing up physically, emotionally and mentally, I worry how I’ll survive without your presence; as it’s been you that’s been carrying me versus me carrying you.

I’ll have to release you to the world so you can make your mark, create and leave your footprint, as they say, and with this reality, it’s my hope that I’ve given you a non-faulty foundation. The values that you carry, never swerve from them. The strong voice you’ve found, never silence it. And your pain, the pain I so wish I could easily erase, please allow it to push you to greatness. Skip to your own beat, create beauty with your hands, your God-given gift of your artistic eyes, and the essence that your soul exclusively carries.

I’ve not gone far in my life, not as far as I’ve intended, and this is where I ask that you learn from my mistakes, my hesitancies, and my self-inflicted doubts; don’t incorporate them. Rather, see where I’ve erred and move on-push past all my foolish boundaries and rise higher. View my setbacks as reasons for you to step forward.

Guard your heart, but not too much to where you shut out any possibility of true love to seep in. Be the daydreamer that reaches for the impossible versus settling for what this world deems as realistic. Don’t allow my fears of the world to hold you back from exploring your curiosities.

Protection is all I’ve tried to give you. Protection from heartache, disappointment, uncomfortableness, and those with ill intentions. My hold on you has been tight simply because I never wanted my griefs to become yours. I wanted to preserve your beautiful outlook on the world and the people that reside on it versus tarnishing both. Yet, in hindsight, this move on my part might make your adulthood more complicated, and for that, I do regret.

Mankind is not kind. Friends will come and go. Partners will give you heartache. Employers will wear you down, but never allow these moments to decrease your value. Your worth, how you hold yourself, view yourself and the priority that you give yourself, that should always be paramount; never let it be slighted. Resiliency is in your bloodline, as is unparalleled reasoning; lean on both. But those trials that are so troublesome to where they make you weary, lean on me. Battling for you is something I vow to forever do because you are my Day 1, my lifeline. I have lived to love you. My love is deep, faithful and unwavering in this unreliable, relentless world.

So, my beautiful daughter, while I strived so hard to only give you a comforting, loveable space, I know you have endured some battle scars. Life’s uncertainties have bled into our lives, and while I wish I could remove the scars you’ve acquired; I assure you that I have zero regrets in being front and center to take those ‘bullets’ in battle on your behalf because, my little love, they have and will always continue to be my badges of honor…

I am guilty. I am guilty of only portraying the light, beautiful moments I had faced the past couple of months on my social media platforms versus the raw me and the ‘where am I going’ state of mind I was struggling with on the daily. For easily five months, from springtime to the fall, multiple dilemmas were thrown my way. Within these months I barely slept, cried uncontrollably, turned to food for comfort and was a walking ball of stress. Yet, being a master of concealment, I hid my dark times, my woes, in fact, and I’m still unsure if that acknowledgement of concealment is something I ought to be proud of or ashamed for.

Living a life of privacy is one I was taught to embrace as a young teen. I will not ridicule my upbringing, as I get what happens behind closed doors shouldn’t always be exposed (unless there’s harm mentally, emotionally, or physically), but doesn’t that mindset of ultimate personal protection prohibit the essence and beauty transparency provides-an honest, ‘this is me and where I am at in my life’? Doesn’t it take more energy to put on a facade than just engage in vulnerability?

Vulnerability is not a weakness, I’m fully aware of such, but the slight pride I still possess stops me from ever being too vulnerable to be perceived as ‘weak’. As I’ve said before, the ship of ‘woe is me’ has sailed many, many years ago, but falling into the norm of highlighting only the good parts of me has made me take a step back and bluntly ask myself out loud, ‘What am I doing?’

My life has been messy this last year, and that IS okay. Messy happens to all of us, none of us are shielded, so why have I associated life’s misfortunes as moments of personal shame? There are so many variables not within our control. Leaps are taken, and they either propel you forward or you fall and take a few steps back. Sometimes stands have to be taken, and either those relationships strengthen or shatter from the new-found voice you have acquired. Medical issues, for the most part, are out of our control. And, of course, loneliness can bring its extra layer of dimness. All of the above happened to me within a matter of days and weeks, and so my internal state was frantic, but what I exposed to 99% of the world was falsity. You saw me smile. You saw me laughing. You saw me unaffected. I became what the majority on social media become, and that is simply a poser.

I’ve asked myself ‘Why do we keep doing this-highlighting only the perfect moments and concealing the imperfect ones?’ Here’s my conclusion: Vulnerability and rawness allows opinions and judgements to swirl, for the whispers to begin. And isn’t that sad? Isn’t it sickening to think we shy away from being real, authentic, or transparent all for the sake of maintaining an image; a false image at that? ‘Picture perfect’ is what we all strive to achieve but at such an exhausting expense-truthfulness.

I didn’t know how things would end up for myself or for my household. Being a wreck night and day, day and night, took such a toll on me. If only I had the strength to be honest to say, ‘I am looking for employment,’ or ‘carrying the weight of my ex’s actions are killing me on the inside and doing even more damage to my daughter’- this honesty could have given me answers and relief sooner. Asking for help, THAT is a display of strength. I applaud all of those that show their good and trying moments, where they eliminate the fake smiles and remove the rose-colored glasses.

Feeling ashamed when life just hits you or pounds you to the ground should never be an option. In fact, think of this: If we all were a bit more ‘real’ with our social media then maybe we would be an aide in preventing someone else to go down the rabbit hole with their thoughts. If we collectively showed ‘all of us,’ the good and the bad, we wouldn’t be contributing to the false glamour and happiness that runs rampant through our social media feeds which fuels those depressed or even those just out-right struggling with continual feelings of inadequacy or ‘sheer bad luck’. So, please, stop.the.pretending. Stop the hiding and start unveiling. We are creating such an unrealistic image for others to aspire to. If we stop disguising the dysfunction, we can create a better, healthier, realistic mindset for ourselves and for those that have a hard time seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. Let’s be examples of transparency versus phoniness.

Remember, messiness shapes us. It does not define us. Just like we can appreciate the bloom of a flower, and we can see the beauty and delicacy even in the withered or broken petals, we need to do the same for our life in its entirety; collectively appreciate where we have been, who we are, and where we are now and view it all as beautiful; the bountiful and broken moments. So here I am to say that my life is messy. It has been and continues to have moments of being just that, and I love the fact that I am alive to sort through the mess. I refuse to be ashamed of what I have gone through and what I am still going through because I know my way is being paved, and I accept, with open arms, where I am being led (even if the whispers begin to swirl) …

I would often run to the swings when brought to the playground as a child. I could swing on the set for hours, if allowed. You’d find me closing my eyes, more often than not, while lifting my legs up for more air height and back down again to enjoy the glide. The peace felt within was grander than I could ever fully express to you. While my eyes were tightly closed shut, I would always envision myself catching the stars, and it’s with this frequent thought that would bring forth laugher, a smile, and would allow myself to maintain my swing set skills momentum. As an adult, you’d find me doing just the same; take me to a park, and I am running to the swing set.

Disappointments in life are common ground. They’re those learning curves and re-evaluating moments we’d love to ignore, wish never took place, but yet they happen, and then they happen some more. After some time, it’s easy to lose the peace, the dreamer within, and the carefreeness we once possessed. We stop believing we can reach for those stars. Instead, we become adaptive and allow ourselves to just go with the flow with whatever life delivers, and we just accept. We don’t challenge; we just undertake what is given.

We exert energy in partnerships that don’t fully serve us to avoid being single or to be perceived as a failure. We continue with careers that leave us feeling over skilled, unfulfilled, and underpaid just to have employment. We stay in cities for others versus for ourselves. We maintain friendships out of obligation. Yes, we no longer reach for the stars. In fact, if we’re honest with ourselves, most of us walk under the sky and never give ourselves a chance to look back up and appreciate those twinkles anymore. We get so caught up in the repetitiveness of our day-to-day that we lose our own shine. We become lost. We become confused. We become frustrated. We lose our giddiness. We lose our voice. We lose our ability to look upwards, and instead have our faces planted to the ground. Yet, we keep all of this inside to not look like complainers nor ungrateful. But is putting yourself on mute the way to go? Is settling the way to proceed? Is it worthwhile to not ruffle anyone’s feathers just to suffocate from within?

Those stars in the sky are meant to be reached. They are there every night to remind us that there’s more height in our lives to rise towards. What is no longer serving us, needs to be swapped out and replaced with what does. That includes personal boundaries, relationships, cities, and careers. The way we glide with joy on a swing, is the way we should be gliding in life. Therefore, we shouldn’t be haphazardly dragging our feet. How is that catching the air or taking your breath away? It doesn’t, nor can it. And that is why we must pick up our feet, swing into action, and keep on reaching. Keep those dreams alive with a steady upward momentum. Take those beginning steps before lifting off the ground because it’s that movement that will lead to your flight.

The speed of your shifts might not be fully cohesive with your timeline, but just as you keep that consistent, pendulum motion on a swing to get more speed, do the same in your personal life; make your actions matter. Let them be the cause of your movements, and in the midst of it all, remind yourself: the same way you give yourself grace and patience on a swing before you get some height, is the same grace and patience you need to give to your life. Regain your carefreeness and control what you can, while releasing what you cannot. Allow yourself to metaphorically soar again, while looking upwards and forwards versus downwards and backwards. And in those times of doubt, distress, and uncertainty, take a glimpse of the sky and watch nature’s wink through its twinkle. Then in return smile, wink back, and refocus on soaring; You’ve got this. We’ve got this. And if you’re afraid that you don’t have a handle on whatever ‘this’ is, just catch me at the swing set, and I’ll glide beside you as I remind you…

“…in Jesus’ name we pray, Amen.” Those were words I would hear three times a week at the commencement and ending of our congregational meetings. At the age of 16 I was willingly baptized as one of Jehovah’s Witnesses. I studied with diligence. I prayed incessantly. I actively participated in congregational meetings, my association only involved fellow believers, and I regularly went door-to-door preaching. My faith was my saving grace, my backbone, my life’s security. It kept my morals high and my positivity just the same. It kept me on a path that I vowed I would never waiver from, as I felt it was the only path ever in front of me. I would mourn those that committed a sin to where association with them no longer was possible, and I would judge those that were led astray to inactivity. My vow to be devoted and unbreakable to the faith was heartfelt. Immediate peace and security was felt within the four walls of the congregation as soon as I stepped foot beyond its doors, until just one day neither of those feelings were felt by me. Instead, I became consumed with feelings of being deadened, numbed, and betrayed as soon as I would enter the Kingdom Hall. The peace that once existed within those walls had evaporated.

What was the change? It was the summer of 2012 where I, out of obligation, had divulged my personal life, intimate details, including my sexual life with my then husband, before three men, whom I merely beforehand only spoke the words ‘hello’ to. Being confined in a room for hours, where I was to expose the flaws of my marriage, give detail-by-detail of my last intimate moment with my now ex-husband, and discuss his infidelity, has been one of the most humiliating moments of my life. I became victimized by my ex-husband’s reckless decision for a second time around in that room with those men.

The listening ears of these individuals were to determine if my marriage had the grounds for a biblical divorce. After hours of deep sobbing to these elders for the heartache, betrayal and deception that fell within my marriage, the initial belief was I played a role in my husband’s act of unfaithfulness. I should have spoken up to any elder the moment my marriage was less than stellar, and I should have done more than I was already doing to maintain my marriage. My marriage’s success, or lack thereof, unbeknownst to myself until this night, evidently fell as my sole responsibility. I never suspected that my ex, the one that lost his faith and committed the gross sin, would have been viewed as the victim, and I’d be deemed as the villain. Yet, that was the atmosphere of the room the night I left confessing my life to these elders. I, the faithful congregant, was left feeling as if I was the unfaithful party. That exhausting night when I departed from that meeting, was the night my spirit was slaughtered. I left and never returned the same.

A deliberation on whether or not my marriage had the basis of a god-approved divorce had to be made. The solid evidence of the wrongdoing was before them. My then husband confessed. My obvious pain due to my heartbreak made these grown men highly uncomfortable, yet they still were not convinced that I could seek a biblical divorce because I had laid down with my husband one time after his unfaithfulness was unveiled. His words of deception for my willingness to comply now had to be evaluated. Better stated, they had to be prayed about. My future now laid in the hands of these elders.

I had to wait for days for a phone call to announce my outcome. Within those days I was on edge. I was a wreck. In fact, I was put in a daunting position where I fixated on the possibility that the only way out of my marriage was to jeopardize my good standing within the congregation by committing adultery myself, and what a despicable, debilitating thought that was. Yet, that was a reality I might have had to face.

Thankfully, the call finally came through, and I was given the right to end my marriage through a divorce. Relief and remorse ensued me. I was relieved to know that I didn’t have to compromise my standing to get the outcome I so deserved, but I was remorseful to know this was the ending of my family as one, and that I had to wait days to get the proper decision. Having to plead your case, threaten to challenge a decision if it was anything other than an approved divorce was tiring, belittling, crippling and shocking. Since then, I’ve been accused of not having enough faith to sustain this hit, but I beg to differ. My faith was so strong, so engrained within my mind, and it flowed within my veins, that this slap in my face by my partner, in addition to the doubtful, extensive, taxing mental process by these elders, kidnapped my entire belief system. My foundation was not just cracked; it was now crumbled.

Since the decision to get a divorce was approved, I tried to re-establish my faith until I realized the empty feeling inside of me was not disappearing. At this point, fellow believers would have termed me as being stumbled, and I wouldn’t beg to differ. I then walked away from my practices because I couldn’t resurrect the faith that was stripped. At this point, some might disagree on that statement, claiming it’s just an excuse, but this is my experience. These are my feelings, and this is the chronology. I have no hate within my heart for those three elders. I have no hate within my heart for my ex-husband. I have no hate within my heart for my ex’s wife. In fact, I have no hate within my heart for the organization and those that still carry the practices.

On the other hand, I do despise this: that when I’ve walked into the Kingdom Hall to support my daughter, the congregation is divided. I am either loved and embraced by some, whereas by others I am snubbed, shunned, stared at, and made to feel like I don’t belong, as if I am Jezebel herself in the flesh. Judgement and ridicule are facial expressions many congregants cannot disguise when they take a look at me. Yet, if only they knew my personal hurdles, but they will never ask. They will only view me worst than an unbeliever, a non-follower. Furthermore, my daughter’s friends in the congregation will be told that they cannot come to my home because I am not a practicing Jehovah’s Witness. To these ones I am labeled as ‘bad association’ or ‘lost,’ and it’s to these adults that I have pity for.

I don’t live my life to divert ones from practicing their faith, as I support my daughter’s with hers, nor do I ridicule the organization and its teachings. That’s not for me to do. I will still give you the shirt off my back, my last cup of water, prepare you a home-cooked meal, and even pray for your peace and safety. But here are some major, current differences within myself: I am full of more love, sympathy, empathy, and acceptance than I was when I was a practicing Jehovah’s Witness. I now view myself not better than you, but rather equal to. I rely only on the one that can truly read my heart versus imperfect men, and now judgement, ridicule, division, haughtiness, a gossiping spirit and hypocrisy no longer resides within me, and for that I can only say ‘Amen’…

I had love and released it. I’ve celebrated love uniting, and I’ve mourned with those that have lost. I was employed, and then I became less employed. I’ve had deep desires of glee, but I’ve also had a lot of sorrow with uncertainties. If anything, the pandemic has reinforced the importance of living with fulfillment and the true frailty of life. We’ve all known that we shouldn’t take life for granted, but did we ever anticipate any of this in our lifetime-masses of individuals perishing from an unknown virus, cities being locked down for weeks at a time, isolating ourselves from friends and family, being fearful of being in close proximity to anyone we didn’t know, wearing masks the moment you leave your home? It’s all been bizarre to think that this is what we have endured, yet, this has been our dreary reality. So while I’ve always held the ones I love close, this past year I’ve held onto them way more tightly. I’ve locked moments in my memory bank, and I’ve held onto the sound of my daughter’s laughter that much closer to my heart.

I’ve done a lot of reflection, deeper reflection than I have in the past, as it seems reflection is continual, and for this I have been shaken-shaken to see that there’s still so much more that I want and can be. I’ve recently read that redundancy leads to boredom, and boredom leads to shattered lives. I am tired and weary of being bored. I am tired and weary of still just slightly ripping apart my box. Yet, what does this entail for me, I am unsure of, but I do know this: While it’s the unknown that I have always feared, now it’s the unknown that I am inviting.

For me to live I need to stop the pattern of wasting my energy and my time. I need to experience life. I need to experience people. I need to experience the realms of the Earth. Too many have lost their lives prematurely due to this pandemic, so they don’t get to re-choose. They don’t get to experience, and so it is my duty for myself, as it’s been a reminder from those that are no longer with us, that if I am to live, I must fully and intentionally dive into living. For it is an honor to breathe. It is an honor to feel free. It is an honor to try and re-try. It is an honor to live a bit selfishly. It is an honor to be.

I personally cannot continually stop my journey prematurely, as we’ve witnessed how easily and rapidly our journeys can unexpectedly cease. Being a dreamer, my head has always been in the clouds, and this pandemic, well, it’s not brought me down. Instead, it’s raised me even higher up to where I can no longer see the ground. Some might feel this is foolish, but for me, this is the present the pandemic has handed me. Let me twirl, and let me stay up in the clouds. It’s peaceful. It’s calming. It’s rewarding. It’s what makes me smile, and it’s where my guidance can be found. For my belief that anything is possible with the life I possess, as long as I possess it, is what has continued to carry me through a time I never felt I’d ever have to endure.

We’ve all been a part of history, you and I, and now the question is: Will you allow all the grief surrounding us weigh you down, or will you become lifted where you believe in your dreams that much more; where your dreams are more of a motivation than before? For you get to breathe. You get to choose, as neither of these options have been yanked from you. We can all stay in a state of comfort and redundancy, but why not become awakened? Why not see your potential and move towards it? Why not allow your head to be in the clouds to give you the guidance for how you want to live in the here and now?

So take my hand. Don’t pull away. Rather, close your eyes, and allow your mind to show you where you want to wander, then open them and proceed to the destination that allowed you to feel free. Now is your time to feel alive, as that heart of yours is still beating. For me, being on Cloud 9 is no longer just a phrase, but rather getting there is now my journey. I am here today, and I proceed. I proceed to live intentionally and to be. This is the ultimate revelation the pandemic has bestowed upon me…

“God has a sense of humor,” was a sentiment spoken to me often. I used to laugh when those words were spoken, despite inside feeling like that wasn’t the full truth or even truth at all. Maybe those words were stated to soften the blow of a circumstance that just couldn’t be, but life is about ownership. We all have choices, responsibility and accountability, but it’s so simple at times to cast blame elsewhere to avoid standing up to our own decisions. Yet, never taking responsibility just creates a repetitive cycle; one where you’re either hurting others or stagnating your own growth. With ownership, you grow, and through reflection you heal.

I should have continued my passion for dance and submitted my audition tape to the school I dreamt of attending. I should have stopped being a people pleaser well before I hit adulthood. While married, I should have sought professional counseling for coping mechanisms regarding family division and anxiety. I should have ended friendships sooner for the sake of my self esteem. I should have said “yes” to a lunch date. I should have built my own boundaries of what I felt was right and wrong versus following what I was just told. I should have never put myself on hold. I should have always known my worth.

I could choose to live in the “should-have” mindset, but how far does that take a person? Life is given for us to make the most of it; to explore, experience and enjoy. My hesitancies, if removed, might have taken me on a different path, but that path doesn’t guarantee a better state in any capacity. My sole decisions have led me here, this I realize, and here is where I need and truly should be.

Through my “should haves” I have learned. I’ve learned the importance of pursuing what creates the spark within, how asking for and seeking professional assistance is not a weakness but rather courageous, that not all friendships are beneficial, saying “yes” to unexpected opportunities could lead to greater adventures, that it is for myself to create my boundaries, and last, but never least, when you find the value you hold within, your standards heighten, and with heightened standards, you don’t wait to be properly loved. Rather, you take love for yourself by the horns and do for you instead of waiting for another individual to do the loving for you.

So while I could cast blame to God, or if you prefer to use another reference, I can’t and I won’t. Because for me to do so is alleviating the responsibility off of my own doing, and that just isn’t the reality. Mistakes, misfortunes, mishaps all happen because of our choices, but it’s how we respond to this reality that is life changing.

The moment we stop projecting our misfortunes onto someone or something else, we lose the crutch and can walk. We lose being the victim and stop being the attendee of our own pity party, and we just live. Live for today with having yesterday’s “should haves” being your reminders of what you don’t want to repeat versus allowing them to be what suffocates you, what prohibits you from moving forward. Once you truly take the time to reflect on your choices and take accountability for the ones that held you back, you become awakened. You feel lifted and unburdened, and you have just grown. In fact, you have just tossed the crutch and have walked. I choose to walk. Better yet, I choose to leap…

While sitting directly across from me at a coffeehouse, an acquaintance, and a brief one at that, looks up at me and randomly states, “Don’t change.” Those words, those two simple syllables took me by surprise then, but now, months later, has continuously replayed itself, silently to others but loud enough for me to hear, in my head.

At fourteen years old I received some unexpected, devastating news. My male cousin, my first best friend, the yin to my yang, was diagnosed with cancer. The news shook me to the core. I sat across from my mom at our kitchen table in stillness for what seemed like a lifetime, but eventually I found the strength to move, to walk outside to my backyard, where I just kept encircling my childhood pool; the same pool that for years my cousin and I played in on the daily like carefree children do. But there came a point where I abruptly stopped walking, looked straight up to the dark sky with the full moon shining, and I voiced, “Let it be me that’s sick. Not him. He has too much to offer this world.”

There’s so many of us that believe we are nothing. We can see the stardom others possess but look at ourselves as if that stardom skipped a generation. We see everyone else’s potential, contribution to this world, and look at ourselves as if we are just ordinary. Non-exceptional. Just here. The night I gazed up into the clouds and voiced my sentiments of feeling incomparable is my first recollection of feeling that I was valueless.

I will never understand why some of us, without any trauma, grow up believing that we are less than. It’s a mental battle that we, for the most part, fight alone, and it becomes a silent warfare. Some of us can break free, become victorious and win the battle of low self-esteem, whereas others never get released.

My cousin fought for his life. In fact, he fought for years. It always seemed so cruel to me how he just turned eighteen, had gotten the rite of passage to finally be labeled as an adult in our society, where the world was to be his oyster at its highest peak, but then he had to rapidly pivot, put on his survival gear and try to overcome the odds to just breathe. There were uncountable moments where I just wanted to save him or step in for him, as I saw him literally shrinking; losing weight, his voice weakening, and his physical strength diminishing. I wanted to feel his pain.

Fast forward, and my cousin is 20 plus years cancer free. As I predicted, he is a shining star. He became a director of an independent film and has acquired his doctorate degree. His endeavors and pursuits are never minimal but rather extensive, and he has accomplished each and every one he’s attempted. His light is strong, empowering and inviting, and I know amid all that’s under his belt, he still has a deeper mark to make on this world. And here’s where I chime in and reassure myself and reassure you: Just like my ambitious cousin, you and I also have a bigger mark to make in this world. Your existence, as mine and his, are meant for something.

Reflecting on the spoken words of “don’t change” has reignited my soul, awakened my spirit and has allowed me to appreciate that I belong. That I am who I am to be. That my decisions are what’s best for me. That my existence, my growth plays a role somehow, someway in this present day. That I am not just breathing, but I am being seen.

To my cousin that overcame and continues to overcome any hurdle life constructs, I love you, and I am fixated with the light you beam. Your fight for life, in essence, made me fight for mine. Granted, I didn’t have to fight for my life to live, but I had to fight the misconception that I didn’t deserve to live. Your inspiration has evolved into being my motivation.

And to the man that spontaneously and genuinely uttered the words, “don’t change,” I thank you. Unbeknownst to you and I, those words would carry me through a recent, difficult time where I doubted my growth and my personal decision. I truly believe that I was meant to meet you, even if for a short season, even if just to hear the two words you graciously verbalized. For we all know words can shatter a soul, but with this testament I hope it’s realized how words, even truly unexpected ones, can also heal one…