We were all gifted with free will — that is the beauty of the human experience.

Image by Mohamed Nohassi — Unsplash

That was beautiful. I felt my mind and my shoulders relax as I read your words. Your writing brought me back to the center of myself, to the present moment. Thank you, that was refreshing.

I have misophonia and my poor husband makes ALLLL the noises that drive me up a wall. He could be chewing on marshmallows but he slams his teeth in a way that sounds like he's chewing on rocks. I'm sure it is how my brain perceives the sounds but it can be unnerving. Certain ways he breathes, or taps his fingers on his desk or makes weird noises with his mouth when he is engrossed in his work. Poor fella he's just trying to live....lol If he knew what I was thinking at the moments the sounds trigger me....smh Anyway…

Thank you. There are absolutely some things I hope don't go back to "normal". During this time, I actually learned to love the natural me. I was a full face of make up girl since I can remember. It was as routine to me as brushing my teeth. But now, I take care to embrace and appreciate that 49 year old woman in the mirror looking back at me with a few fine lines, some hyperpigmentation from being a sun bunny, the marionette lines forming on the sides of my nose and mouth from what I like to say is years of smiling and laughing. I'm done covering up the years. I'm simply grateful to have made it this far.

Thanks for sharing. I feel like your blog post was divinely delivered to me just moments ago as I just found my brother yesterday. I suspected he was living in some woods on another side of town so my husband and I flew a drone over the area to explore it without actually endangering ourselves by walking in the thick of it. Out of those woods emerged a man enraged that we were invading his privacy. His body language changed when he realized it was his baby sister (me). My heart breaks for him. He was diagnosed with schizophrenia many…

Words are living things, they have personalities, points of view, and an agenda.

Photo by mwangi gatheca — unsplash

I am biracial (half Irish / half black) — I proudly embrace both. However, I grew up with my Irish mother as the sole provider and role model for me and my brother. My black father was never in the picture after my birth. So, for the first seven years of my life, I didn’t notice color and it never dawned on me that there actually existed a faction of society who perceived me, and other people who looked like me, as a distinct and inferior race…

An account of a battle against Death

Like any other morning, I got up with the birds and headed out to the gym before work. I was in my routine. What I didn’t know that morning was my life would be changed forever. In an instant, life as I knew it, as I was living it, would never be the same.

It was a meager Monday morning or as my workout partner (Miss J) and I called it, ‘leg day’. We were getting it in, hustling for our dream bodies. For me, it was of greater importance to look perfect…

Lucky Violet

I write to feed my soul.

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