I will say this, I’m hoping that sharing my story will help me feel free and fly.
Sharing the same space with someone can be a real eye opener. The myth of the magical fantasy had worn off shortly after I moved in with Mike. What’s crazy is that I have no idea how it happened, I don’t recall the words he used, I can’t recall when or even where it took place, NOTHING about it at all but at some point, Mike and I got engaged. I remember the ring, a one carat marquise cut, it was exactly what I wanted.
I am blocked. It’s not a true writer’s block, more like I might not be ready to deal with the aftermath kinda block. The first eight years, I was able to romanticize the abandonment I felt as a result of both parents not being in my life. I skipped through the sexual molestation I experienced…
Love is another one of the words that I have struggled to truly understand. I grew up in an environment where I didn’t feel loved in the way stories, movies, and TV shows described it. I knew my parents cared about me, but I honestly didn’t feel loved and therefore had no real-life reference for what love actually felt like or really was. I had only the perfect stories from sources not based in reality. The sad part is while I longed for that perfect love, deep down I didn’t feel that I deserved it or would ever actually have it.
It is hard to believe that in 2019, several states have successfully criminalized abortion. I currently live in Missouri who has only one abortion clinic in the state and last week the State Senate submitted a bill that would make it illegal to terminate a pregnancy after the 8th week. In 1992, my boyfriend Joseph…
Our apartment was a shabby unit in a four family flat her granddad owned. We furnished it with golden velvety sofas, wonderful old-school tables, and art donated from her family. We were grown! Hah! We had people over, we worked, we went to school, and we did as we pleased.
There was as a buzz of excitement in my world, my mother was traveling from Chicago to pick me up so I can go to stay with her and my little sister in Chicago (apparently I have a little brother too, but I never met him). Grams had managed to find my a full luggage…
During lunch, we sat together and often talked about gossip. There was a girl at school who had gone down on a boy! Everyone was talking about it saying things like “don’t let her drink out of your soda!” We had a whole panel discussion about how we would never do such a thing and what extremes it would take for us to EVER consider it. This is so funny and was definitely a different time, all the scenarios involved a gun, a knife, a bat, or marriage!! We were young and thought we knew what was, what should be, and what would be. In reality, we had no idea at all.
More than anything I wanted to be loved. I wanted to know that somebody truly loved me. I craved to feel of value to another person, mostly because I was unsure of my value. I knew all the catch phrases, I knew that I was beautiful inside and out, I knew that I was supposed to love myself, I knew that I was in charge of my own happiness, and I really believed those things but only on a surface level.
So all year the focus was on miniature furniture. There was an antique sewing machine, a mahogany dining table with chairs, a four poster bed and a kitchen table. I then watched Grams make table clothes, small bath towels with tiny pink flowers and linens. I watched the collection grow bigger every month. She would polish every piece and place them in shoeboxes. I was always impressed with the details put into every item. I wonder what type of person had that much patience and creativity to be able to create every item. I was convinced at one point that there was a factory of little elves making warehouse filled with manicure furniture.