I will use this for professional and personal use. One week from today, will be the end of my junior year at the University of Memphis. That is the scariest feeling. I feel it is more than necessary to develop my creative writing skills just as much as my professional writing.
(being that is the corner stone to public relations)
I didn’t want to be pretty. That word was often used towards me in a inappropriate manner by men old enough to be my father.
I would carry myself in a manner that I felt would make them stop calling me by that word. As I walked to the neighborhood store to spend my daily allowance from my chores, I still felt the eyes of predatory cover my innocent body. I was a child. I didn’t understand why they were cat-calling at me for.
I couldn’t believe it. The one person whom I felt God had placed in my life to be my protector…didn’t do it. You failed me… why didn’t you stop them?
“Stop calling me that!” I would yell at the group of older kids who were telling me how pretty I was. I was only a child. “I wanna go home” I would cry as they lured me into an abandoned apartment.
“God, why did you place me here on earth?” I would ask myself as I held a razor to my wrist. Contemplating if I was strong enough to continue this harsh reality that I called life…or was I insensitive enough to take my own life for my grandmother to find me . Why me? I still ask my self 15 years later..
My Mother never raised me. From the day I was born, my maternal and paternal grandparents took over the parental role to raise me. It is not a doubt in my mind that I come from love. I have so many people in my life that have played a vital role in shaping me into who I am today. But, I will always have a lingering hole in my soul that craves a mother’s love. I remember growing up and HATING to hear my grandma Melba Sue call me her granddaughter. I hated it. I called her “Mama” and wanted so badly for her to call me her daughter. I used to be so jealous of the love I saw her give to my biological Mother <her daughter>. I felt as if she was undeserving to receive that extended affection from her being that she had forfeited me the chance to ever receive that. There is a special bond between a Mother and her daughter which is hard to sum up in words but widely understood. I am 24 years old and I am still wishing to experience it… I vow that whenever I become a Mother that I will ensure that my children have everything I wasn’t able to have emotionally .
I said something horrible today. The epitome of word vomit. It was 4 hours ago but I can’t stop thinking over it.
I was conversing with a co-worker about possibly working a double shift on Sunday. For those who have worked as server, you understand that Mother’s Day is the busiest day for us outside of Valentine’s Day. I told her that I was willing to work all day because I don’t have a Mother. What in the world Michella?
When did my grief turn into total disrespect. It has been almost 6 years since my heart broke into pieces. I didn’t realize until today, I’m still in bereavement. This stage is a mixture of anger and discontent. I notice myself eating MORE..sleeping longer…working more hours. I contributed those factors into my junior semester ending. However, today the truth hit. So I decided to write an open-letter to my Mama.
“I’m mad. I think that is was wrong for you to leave me after 18 short years. How dare you rescue me from a drug-addicted mother, raise me as your daughter, and leave. I’m 24 years old and I still feel as lonely as the day you left. I deserve this anger. You used to let me have my tantrums…screaming and shouting when I was a kid. So listen to me now! I know that God needed you more. I know that heaven couldn’t wait for your BEAUTIFUL soul. But I never could lie to you… But I love you. Though it maybe selfish for me to not have wanted to share YOU ….I can wait. I can wait until it is my time to be in God’s arms and yours again. ”
I come to you as humble as possible. I beg for peace on the hearts of everyone in the shoes you gave me. There is no greater love than yours but Jesus..if there was a love to come close to it…it would be a Mother’s love. Bring us peace o merciful father. PLEASE..
In Jesus name,
I think the worse feeling is giving more than you receive. Craving the same if not more love than what they are willing to give.
Are you stupid? Why are you still loving this person whose incapable of respecting your unrelenting desire to be the perfect woman for them.
When will you use the same effort of care towards yourself? There is no reason to keep self-harming your own heart.
There are millions of opportunities yet you are withholding the possibility of moving forward. Why is this love so damn important? Every single day you try to avoid it but the thoughts overwhelmingly compromises your ability to push on.
I swear there is nothing worse.
I only slept for 3 hours which equates to a catnap. (studying/procrastination to blame)
Despite the bags under my eyes and the lack of caffeine, I am bursting with the joy of child who just received a stranger’s iPhone to play games on. I am ready to enjoy the rarest form of relaxation that has became foreign to me over the past 4 months, sleep.
Even though I am enrolled into the devil’s playground (Summer school), I plan to take full advantage of the next 3 months.
See, in the Fall, I will walk head first into the most dramatic semester that plagues a student. SENIOR status. Yep! Next year this time if I plan to walk across the stage in the FedEx Forum in downtown Memphis to get my B.A. degree.
But the road there seems endless. Taking 18 hours in the Fall/Spring while working my part-time and an internship. Sounds as exciting as a needle being punctured into your arm..
Does that scary vision of sleepless nights and double shots of espressos make way to why this day is extremely special. In the mock of the great words of Denzel Washington in Training Day,
“JUNIOR YEAR AIN’T GOT NOTHING ON SENIOR YEAR”
Nonetheless, this break is more than necessary.
I never finished high school.
At the age of 20, I earned my GED. Four years later, I am now a senior in college.
It took me years to realize that my path in life belongs to ME only. I can’t compare it to any other because it was specifically designed for me. My purpose is to continue to break down socio-economic barriers. I will use my writing as a rule book for others who feel the weight of the world on their shoulders.
You will push through.
You will equate to the successful person you aspire to be.
Your path is yours.
Push through. #self #motivation
I often feel that I am late.
My aspirations are beaming so loudly that the pressure to compete with myself is ever present. I am my biggest critic. It’s okay to place yourself on a pedestal, but be realistic.
“I am my mother’s prayers of love manifested in human form. This is how I remind myself to act out of love & live in my truth every day.” -oliviaJade