Loving Him Is Killing Me.....Speak Out Against Domestic Violence

Peace As October begins I just wanted to reiterate that this is Domestic Violence Awareness Month. And let me say this first and foremost! MEN ARE ABUSED TOO!! We're so busy teaching our daughters how not to be abused, we forget about our sons and the fact that some women will beat up on their man, because they know he wont hit back.

I'm not gonna get into the statistics and all that other boring stuff, instead to drive the point home, im gonna tell you a story.

I, as some of you may know, am a product of domestic violence. Whether you are the abuser, the abused or the friend or family member of a victim there is one thing that you should think about above all, the babies.

You have to understand that the children in these situations are just as abused, even if they never get physically hurt.

See, being the oldest and the one who most closely resembled my mother I experienced a lot of animosity, emotional abuse and psychological abuse. Mind you my father never laid a hand on me.

My earliest memory is when I was 3 yrs old and my mother had me in the bathroom, shielding me from seeing my father getting his ass kicked by my aunts at a family cookout, because he had the bright idea to hit my mother in front of her whole family.

I saw my mother go through things that no child should ever see. One time he hit her in the head with a hammer outside of our apartment building. She drive to the Police Station with blood dripping down her face and was told that she couldn't file a report because the person that handles that was out and besides they didn't see him do it so it was out of their hands.

I was the one who had to sneak out of the house to call the cops. Hoping that I got back to the apartment before he did.

Like every other woman in the world I wondered why my mother didn't just leave and vowed never to have a man put his hands on me that way.

See I was being beat up mentally everytime I saw her beat physically. But I was a kid, I couldn't very well leave on my own.

What I didn't know at the time was that my father threatened my mother that if she left he would kill her, us kids and her family. And he could very capable of it.

She would send us to our grandparents on the weekends to get a break, but we always had to come home.

One day, for a variety of reasons and issues that have nothing to do with this story the feds came and deported my father, that's what saved us.

As we grew, my sister and I, my brother was still very young so he was spared a lot of the drama, it was hard to maintain a decent relationship with a man.

And I broke my vow to never have a man put his hands on me the way my father did my mother.

My self-esteem was so low from the mental and psychological abuse I endured that I didn't think I could get anybody better.

I also justified that because I fought back it wasn't abuse.

It wasn't until after I got pregnant that I started to wake up and realize that the cycle was starting.

I refused to bring a child into this world to grow up the way I did.

When I was 6 months pregnant I was choked unconscious. Constantly spat on, degraded and debased. I went to the hospital for a busted lip and a broken nose.

The restraining order didn't stop him. Moving out didn't stop him.

What every little girl dreams of, marrying a man like her father, became my nightmare.

I finally was able to leave him but the mental abuse still continues. Only now, I don't feed into it, which is his power.

My son will never be able to tell a story like this because I stopped the cycle.

I say all of that to say this, people will always have problems in their relationships. But there is never an excuse to be violent. The children can be scarred for life . I know I am.

This story may not mean anything to you, but if I helped one person make a life or death decision, I've done my job.

Please, if you or anyone know is being abused, get help!

ok, now for the boring stuff lol ....

www.cutitout.org

National Domestic Violence Hotline 800-799-SAFE

CUT IT OUT (Salons Against Domestic Violence) is a program of the Salons Against Domestic Abuse Fund dedicated to mobilizing salon professionals and others to fight the epidemic of domestic abuse in communities across the United States. CUT IT OUT builds awareness of domestic abuse and trains salon professionals to recognize warning signs and safely refer clients to local resources.

Domestic abuse is:

o a pattern of violent and coercive tactics committed by one intimate partner against another.

o a pattern of controlling behavior that consists of physical, sexual, and/or psychological abuse or assaults.

o a learned pattern of behavior.

o impactive to all those around the adult and child victim: family, friends, and co-workers.

While most perpetrators are men, it is important to remember that most men are not perpetrators.

Signs that a client or someone you know may be abused:

One sign does not prove abuse. However, a combination of them, or repeated signs, may indicate abuse.

o Bruising in different stages of healing, especially if the bruising is in areas not usually seen by others, such as the scalp

o Bald spots indicating hair has been torn or pulled out

o Frequent injuries, especially with unusual explanations

o Injuries not seen but indicated by general mobility difficulties due to soreness, tenderness, bruising

o Isolation from friends and family

o Low self-esteem, a sense that she doesn't deserve better treatment

o Self-blame or unrealistic guilt ("It's my fault, I shouldn't have made him mad.")

o Partner always accompanies client to appointments or waits outside in the parking lot

o Fear of the partner, insecurity about his actionsYou may also notice the following behavior:

o The partner dictates the frequency of her salon visits

o The partner will not allow her to change her hair color or style

o The partner is controlling or excessively jealous

What can you do if a client or someone you know is being abused?

o Believe the person who tells you that she is being abused. Her abuser may have her convinced that she is at fault or that she doesn't deserve better treatment.

o Keep whatever she tells you confidential. Her life may be at stake.

o Gently guide her to find help. Suggest that she contact her local domestic violence agency or call the National Domestic Violence Hotline (1-800-799-SAFE). Suggest that she needs to consult a qualified, objective third party.

o Don't try to fix the problem for her or become her counselor – your local domestic violence agency is staffed with trained personnel to counsel victims and help to ensure their safety. All have access to a shelter or safe house. Don't put yourself in harm's way or increase the danger for the victim by getting in the middle.

Help others to understand that domestic violence is absolutely, totally unacceptable and usually escalates over time. Have the number of your local agency or the National Domestic Violence Hotline number (1-800-799-SAFE) handy.

Where do broken hearts go?

Im in pain...not physical pain but emotional pain...the kind of pain where if there were such a thing as emotional percosets I would pop about 5 right now and just sleep for 3 days.

I was with this guy, no it wasnt very long, but it was very serious, or so I thought. Then one day out of the blue he tells me, ” we cant be together no more!”

Everything was as close to perfect as it couldve been for me. I thought he was my knight in shining armor, my prince charming...little did I know he was just another toad begging to be kissed.

I should've known something wasn't right because it was too perfect. When I told him I wanted to wait for sex, he respected my wishes. He told me he was a christian and even had a whole story concocted about how God came to him and how he was anointed. He wanted to meet my family. He acted like he loved my kids. My baby, Justice latches on to no one, not even the family, but he was hooked on this guy. He met my pastor and even went as far as asking her for relationship counseling after our first major argument. He introduced me to everyone as his fiancee and he was the first to speak of marriage. He would feed feed me, not allow me to walk across the street much less home from work, he spoiled me rotten! He had everybody fooled.

It just so happened that my sons father started some trouble and that was his excuse to leave me. For once I glad the asshole tried to destroy my relationship bc I probably never wouldve found out all the other bullshit.

After he returned the cell phone I purchased him, I saw several, not one, not two several messages from females he has been dealing with....all of them being fed the same bullshit he was feeding me. a couple of them he was ” engaged” to, a few were in love with him, at least 2 defended everything he has done and vowed to never leave him.

When I finally calm down enough to sanely ask him questions he replies with no remorse, ” im sorry if you feel like I hurt your feelings”.....what??? What about my kids? What about my family and friends? What did I do to deserve to be treated likd a pawn in some sick twisted love game?

Everybody is telling me its for the best, that im lucky I found out now and not after time was invested....but im hurt, still. I am not easy to give my heart away because I always get hurt. I damn sure dont get my kids involved. Nobodyeets my family. And no one has names. This dude stole everything from me! But I cant even calling it stealing, he tricked my heart away from me through his lies and deceptions. The worst part is that not only did he break my heart he is allowing his friends to tarnish my name by saying im a trouble maker and cause drama! So not,only do I have to try and piece together a heart that has been crushed and shredded, I have to regain and repolish my reputation at the same time.

My first instinct is to smack him with a 2x4 but hes not worth me going to jail and losing my kids. If he was on fire, I wouldn't spit on him!

They tell me, when the right one comes along ill know it.....I honestly believed he was it. He had all the qualities ive been praying for. He was so good with his bullshit my mother, pastor and uncle fell for it too!
Will I heal? Im sure I will. Will I trust again? Never!

Chasing love in the desert

I ran into this woman, and had an opportunity to speak with her in depth....or rather, she had the opportunity to speak to me. First we started talking our children. After realizing how much alike our children are, the convo got more and more interesting and deeper. She and I are so much alike (and different), its eerie. I mean, We both have 2 children with one interested in acting (she has a boy and a girl), we both are beauticians by trade (she has moved into a different profession recently), we both have committment issues (even though she is married)....And there in came my epiphany. While talking to this woman who mirrored my fears, complaints, joys, and pains I realized that I am a predator when it comes to men...somewhat like lion with its prey.

Have you ever watched the nature channel or animal planet? I love watching lions. They are so majestic to me. I've even found myself more physically attracted to men who are leos. But to watch the king of the jungle hunt is a sight that fixes me and amazes me each and everytime. When a lionness is hunting, she'll lay in wait for the perfect opportunity to pounce and take her opponent down. But there are times when she is just practicing or training her cubs how to fend for themselves. Its those times that I identify myself with now. A lioness will sit and watch, just as if she was going to bring the prize home to her babies. But she doesnt really want this particular trophy, she just wants to play. She'll chase the poor animal, running in circles, nipping at his heels, laughing to herself. Then every once in awhile, the prey grows tired of the chase and thinks he's not in any real danger, so he'll slow down, just enough. he'll turn his head in a taunting manner, he may even rear back and try to charge at his persuer. But that is when the queen of the jungle changes her mind and basically says "fuck it! Who does this dude think he is?? I'm playing with him, he cant play with me!" And her hind legs gain a little more power. her gaze is focused now. she has decided to go in for the kill, only because she feels rejected and toyed with. She pounces on him! Digs her razor sharp teeth into his flesh, tosses his body to and fro, claws at his torso and jugular until there is nothing left in him to fight back. And then, after she has achieved what would seem like the ultimate goal, her trophy, she licks her lips, and struts away, tail swaying behind her. leaving the mangled mess of a body for the scavengers to take care of.

Thats how i feel with men. I have over and over done the same thing as the lioness. I see what i want to have fun with and ill play with him, ill spend time with him, ill make him feel special, only because its ultimately all about me. I give him all of my attention, not necessarily because i like him or he deserves it but because i want the same attention back. I have even gone as far as to make a man believe that im in love with him, when i know im just using him to fill my own emotional void. When he becomes comfortable with the situation and he thinks, "Chan's not going anywhere",he begins to run a lil slower, He may even feel comfortable disrespecting me, or thinking hes using me, he's turning his head back at me now..."i know u not gonna do nothing" When he decides im crowding his space and working his nerves and turns full face towards me to reject my advances and my "love" for him, i get a lil more power...my gaze is focused....but when i pounce i tear down everything i built up for him....i take away his security, his contentness, his thought that he has the upper hand in the situation. I break him down emotionally, financially, mentally, and sometimes physically if i have to...and then, when im done playing and teaching him a lesson, i walk away and leave the leftovers for some other woman to put together.

Its all about the chase, once i got you, i dont want you anymore.

Am i proud of the way i am? not neccessarily. I have done some really cruel things and played with alot of emotions. but at least i can acknowledge that it was all to feed my own ego and emotional voids. Will I ever change? I dont know....As for my new friend that I so easily bonded with, She told her husband that she was not going to be faithful, so they are now separated. She knows that she, just as I can probably never ever have a full, meaningful and lasting relationship with any one man. because once it get to that point, the chase is over.....and then what do we do?

te amo mas hoy que ayer....

When i walked into the break room i saw him filling out an application. He looked up, i said hello, in his broken english he replied "alo". I got my tea and went back to my desk. I saw miguel, the shipping and handling manager, a few minutes later.

"Miguelito, quien es? (Who is that?)"
"Some guy applying for the warehouse. Why?"
"Just asking."
Miguel laughed.

I was one of only a few natural born english speaking employees, so i got a chance to practice my spanish and even learned a lil russian. But miguel, who i called my hermanoso (big brother) always tried to make me speak in strictly spanish. So when i met juancarlos it came in handy since he had just moved to newark from puerto rico. Because i worked in the main office and the shipping dept i would see him regularly. We always got to work about the same time and had lunch with each other and the other workers a few times. Because we were both younger than most of the other workers they always tried to get us together and tease us saying we were esposos (married).

One day i was typing up shipping labels and he came into the room. The door was already closed but he kept looking out the window. I asked him what was wrong with him. And he asked for miguel. "Hes in the warehouse i think." Juancarlos left and miguel came in a few minutes later. Laughing. "Que pasa miguelito?" He was laughing so hard he was red. "Shanita, u got an admirer!" "Who? And why is that so funny???" "Porque he no want to tell you. He's... .como se dice? Shy." "Shy? Who? Juanito?" Now im laughing. At the time i was 5'7" about 185lbs. Juancarlos was about 5'3" maybe 135lbs!!! Just the visual alone was hilarious.

Eventually Juancarlos came back into the office. Again i was alone, he sits up on the desk and smiles at me. "What?" I tried to sound aggravated but he was just so cute, even cuter now that i knew he liked me. He proceeded to tell me in spanglish (a mix of english and spanish) about his crush. "I had a dream about u. U were dancing for me. U looked so nice. Then we kissed and i woke up." I wanted to make sure i understood him correctly. So i repeated it back to him. I heard him right. We both just started laughing. A few days later it was raining and juanito asked me for a ride home. Of course miguel and another worker were standing there watching.

I pull up to his house in my honda and my hand is resting on the gear shift. He places his hand on top of mine and says to me in spanish "the way u hold this i want u to hold something else." Oh really! He leaned over and kissed me. It just felt right. Never mind that i had a boyfriend, never mind that he had a wife back in PR. At that moment, and every moment after he was mine and i was his.

We continued our affair for a few months,sneaking off at lunch, spending saturdays together, naively thinking it was our lil secret. One day he called and told me he was moving with his brother in georgia. My heart stopped. His last day at work he came into my office. "Mi amor, ya me voy" that was it.

Months went by without a word from him. Then one day the phone rang. "Hola mi amor." My face lit up. Then i had to tell him i was pregnant...

Come back to Jamaica

So, my dad called from Jamaica early sunday morning....I'm always happy to talk to my father, because now that he's getting older and i've matured (somewhat) I really want to have a relationship with him outside of all the abuse and drama of the past. Well, on sunday i got a chance to talk to my 9 yr old Sister, Chantal. She has such a soft voice and such a strong accent, all i could do was smile while i was on the phone with her. I love how she says my name! She sounds so sweet. And my oldest son Jonathan had just woke up and came into the room when the phone rang, so he was able to speak to my father and his aunt for the very first time. His face just lit up!

He has never met my father, never spoken to him, never even seen a picture, but he loves his "Grandpoppy" just like he raised him. Jonathan has asked why he wasn't around, and I am always honest with my kids. I told him, Grandpoppy wasn't a very nice man when he was younger and he was really mean to Mema. He wasn't a citizen of this country so when Grandpoppy got into really big trouble they sent him back to Jamaica and he can't come see us, so maybe one day we'll go to see him. About every month or so, Jonathan asks "when we are we going to see Grandpoppy?" lol

About 2 weeks ago, my father's other son, Avery called as well. Again, it was Jonathan and Justice's first time talking to him. It was so cute, because anyone who knows Justice, knows he hasn't perfected his pronunciation yet. He has a few words that he says extrememly clearly, like, "No","Eat","Pee","Cece" and "Addie" and can sing more clearly than he will speak. But when he got on the phone with my brother he said clear as day "Hi Uncle Avery!!" Avery's picture is hanging up in my living room, so my boys know what he looks like.

I haven't seen him since he was about 2. We kinda just wrote him off because he was a child from outside of my mother and father's marriage. My brother Harold hasn't even acknowledged Avery Or my dad as being in existence, much less being blood relatives. My sister and I have forgiven Daddy and accepted our brother and sister, but I sense even she has her reservations about the situation.

Avery is one year older than Harold and he hasn't seen our father since he was about 3 either. We always tend to forget that, it's not that Daddy abandoned any of us, he was deported and didn't have a chance to bond with his sons. And neither Avery nor Chantal asked to be in this situation anymore than Harold, Tiffani or myself did. Why should I punish my blood for something they had no control over?

Like I said, Harold doesnt talk about Daddy, Avery, Chantal, not even the country of Jamaica. So he and I have never had a heartfelt conversation about it, like I have had with Tiffani and Avery. And I completely understand why he feels the way he does. I cant speak for him, at all but i know how i felt all of those years. Hopefully, one day he'll come around and at least be willing to write them.

Avery is so much like Harold it's scary. (Aside from the criminal aspects) They both look just like my father, except Avery is lighter. They both rap. They're both cocky. (Avery told me that his brother can't see him on the mic) And they both are very loving and protective. Especially of me. I can almost guarantee that if Avery was home, he and Harold would be best friends, I promise you. Avery wants so bad to be in touch with Harold, but he understands why Harold won't allow it. He sounds so broken when he talks about what could have been with Harold. He even boasts to the other prisoners about his lil brother that's he's never seen.

It hurts my heart to know that I may never see my (half)brother. Because of whatever actions he made, he may be in prison for a long time and I dont visit jail. Especially if i'd have to travel 4 or 5 hrs to do it. But I make sure that i write to him and accept his calls.

I try to respect my mother by not talking to her about my father and his kids. When Avery was first trying to get in contact with us through my Uncle Jonah and cousin Brian, I sat down with my mother and asked her how she felt about it. She said it doesnt matter to her if I contacted him, but I really have the feeling that she feels some type of way about it. And can anyone blame her?

My father asked me to write a letter to the department of immigration asking for him to have a temporary visa so that he can come and visit us. Part of me wanted to tell him, "get the fuck outta here" because, even though I forgave him, I cannot forget what he put our family through. But then again part of me wants to see him, hug him, laugh with him, go out to lunch, take care of him, be his daughter. I dont know what I should do.

I dont want to disrespect my mother. I dont want to disrespect my father either, but when it comes down to it, my mother has always been my dad so she gets 2 votes. No matter how much it hurts me, she comes first. So, I'm saving up for my trip to Jamaica next year....

I gave in once....

I ran into my ex-fiancee the other day on the bus. He still looks exactly the same. Have you ever seen Ghostface Killer from Wu-Tang Clan? That's Bobby! lol He sat next to me and kissed me on the cheek. Immediately Jonathan yells, "who that?" lol Bobby and I talked for a few minutes before I got to my stop and when I got off, i told Jonathan, "that was almost your daddy"
"what? how u figure that?"
"because, before I met your dad, I was about to marry him."
"and what happened?"

**New Years Day 1995**

It was exceptionally warm. I remember, because I was wearing a skirt, and decided to walk home from night out in Irvington. I cut across the park and saw this guy playing with his pitbull. The dog started to run towards me, I could tell she was a puppy, and I'm not afraid of dogs anyway so I didn't jump.
"Venaca! Venaca!"
I look up confused, because he didn't look latin, I knew I was latin, so i figured he wasn't telling me to come here, so i figured by the way he was demanding that his dog must have understood Spanish.....1 point for him! (I've always loved the spanish language so just the thought that in the heat of the moment someone can flip and start speaking in another tongue drove me crazy!)
"Hablas espanol?"
"un poquito"
"that's dope, whats the dogs name?"

We talked for a little while, exchanged numbers and i continued my walk home. Not even really expecting to hear from him.

A few days later he calls and we talk on the phone for awhile. You know how you sit on the phone and talk to somebody for hours and don't even realize how long you've been on the phone for? yeah, like that! And he was a Scorpio too!.....2 points!

But that is the reason, to this day that I don't trust Scorpios! I know it's sort of hypocritical, but every scorpio I have ever been with is amazing in bed, but a complete dog! The weird thing is that I stay friends with them, but never ever have an interest in a relationship. All because of this dude!

Bobby had a daughter, no problem, but his baby's mother was crazy. She lived in south jersey though, so she and I never had a run in, actually, when we did meet, she had no problems with me....i guess crazy, recognized crazy lol He lived in his mother's house, with her and his 2 brothers. His mother was a Jehovah's Witness and disabled, so he pretty much took care of her, since his older brother was in the streets and the younger one was still in school at the time. He was very charismatic, he won over my friends, my sister, even my mother!! which, in and of itself is a miracle.....3 points!

We dated off and on for a few years, like I said he was a dog....His mother used to always call me "Dawn", but i never thought anything of it, because people mess my name up all the time. after awhile, i stopped correcting her. Then one day I had a dream that Bobby was in a large swimming pool with this light skinned girl with short blonde hair, and I kept trying to get him out of the pool and he wouldn't get out. I was really into my dreams back then, so i looked up "pool, water, swimming" and something came up that dreams about water meant sex!! (Now whether that interpretation is true or not, i dont know, but it was enough of an explanation for me!) I brought it to his attention, of course he dismissed it. I described the girl in my dream to his mother, she never said a thing. So one day, I decided to pop up at the house unannounced. I walk in and there's this girl sitting in the living room, light-skinned with short blonde hair. I looked at her, looked at bobby's lil brother and went to say hi to his mother. His brother came to me in the kitchen as i was doing the dishes and tried to tell me the girl was there for him, that Bobby had went out with lil Bobby and Ed and wouldn't be back for a few hours. Apparently "Dawn" was sitting there waiting for him too.

That was the first time we broke up. After that, I never trusted him fully but i by that time I had already fallen in love. And when I love someone I will fight to keep them in my life....I hate that part of myself. But I loved visiting Bobby, because he lived right around the corner from Redman's mother, so I would see Redman all the time...(Yall know I love me some Reggie Noble!) lol and all of Bobby's friends were cool and seemed to like having me hanging out with them. I never nagged Bobby, especially not in front of his boys, I just chilled. Well, one day I found out just how much his friends liked having me around. I was in the hall, talking to one of his friends. He was about 5'10", maybe 160-170 lbs, all muscle, light skin, gorgeous face, pretty eyes....but that's my man's boy, I could never look at him as anything else but. But apparently, he didnt have the same code of ethics. He leanded me against the wall and before I even knew what was going on, he had kissed me right on my mouth! I pushed him off and told him if he didnt leave right now, I was going to get Bobby and have him kick his ass. So he left, but i kinda wished i had it in me to kiss him back....

Bobby was just like me, we had a ball together all the time...no matter what one of us wanted to do, whether it was playing laser tag or bar hopping we were always down. once we went to the Gordon Elliott Show (yeah, that long ago) and the topic was "College kids who drink too much" We sat right in the front row, with our Drew University sweatshirts on and in between commercials, we were trying to get the college kids to come back to newark and party with us, just cuz they were cool. well, after the show, which was filmed up near columbus circle, we went to the liquor store, rolled up and took a walk around the city.....not realizing that not only could you not smoke on the streets of NY, not only that you couldn't drink on the streets of NY even if it is in a plastic cup but we had no idea that the Police station was right there! We're standing there and all of a sudden all of these people just surround us. As i look I start to see the badges sticking out from their plain clothes. Oh shit!!! I had a full cup of vodka in my hand, I turned and downed the whole thing in one gulp. WE explain to the cops that we were from Jersey and just came from the Gordon Elliott Show and when we told them what the topic of the show was, they just laughed. all we got was a ticket, but i'll never forget it.

It was close to Christmas, I remember, because we had just came from seeing the preacher's wife with Denzel and Whitney and we went to dinner at one of the italian restaurants in Madison. It was a really nice night. We went home and laid in the bed, talking. Out of the blue, he asks "Would you marry me?"
"Yeah, why not?"
"No I mean, Would you marry me?"
"You bugging!! where are we gonna live? with your mother or mine?"
"Chan, I'm serious." and he looked at me, with those puppy dog eyes. "i dont have a ring right now, but I can get you one."
"I dont care about a ring, baby."
"So? will you marry me?"
"Yes."

One day, after they moved to Hillside, I was spending the night at the house, helping to take care of his mother because he was going out and wouldn't be home until late. So the phone rings and I answer it.
"Is Bobby there?" I could tell she was a hoodrat by her accent.
"May I ask who's calling?"
"His girlfriend!"
I laughed and immediately went into defense mode
"Oh," I said very calmly "and WHICH girlfriend is this?" she said her name "Ok, well, blah blah blah, This is is fiancee but I wil definitely make sure he gets your message. Have a goodnight!"
I surprised myself with how calm I was. thats when I realized that when I get to the point where I'm fed up and I cant take anymore, that I stop caring. I tell dudes all the time, as long as i'm screaming, yelling and throwing things, i still care. When I stop doing all those things it means I've given up. but anyway....Bobby came home and I was sitting in the room with his mother. He came and kissed me on the cheek. I waited about 10 minutes and said,
"Oh! Babe, you had a phone call earlier."
"who was it?"
"your girlfriend." I said it matter of factly, his whole face changed.
We went into the kitchen and argued for a min, back and forth, he cried and cried. I left that night, and didnt speak to him for 3 days. When I finally did speak to him, I was drunk and decided I was done. So I ended everything. I was so distraught, maybe not so much over losing him but rather the time i wasted, that I started drinking extra heavy. All i would eat was popcorn, drink pepsi, heinekens and smoke. I lost so much weight, people thought I was sick. I ran into him a couple of times after it was all over, and we still greet each other like it was yesterday. but that's where it stops.

**Last week**
"And what happened?"
"Nothing, we just broke up that's all. And then I met your dad and we had you!"
"And it was happily ever after right?" My oldest son smiled.
"yep, happily ever after."

Phone test video

Justice imitating wocka flocka and playing me out

Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.8

Phone test

Fuck Love, I'm tired of trying

I hate being a female! I hate being emotional! I hate caring! I hate falling in love! why? Because it never works out for me. I'm not saying that I won't find Mr.Right someday. But I haven't yet. And frankly, I'm getting tired of trying. Everytime I think he might be the one, he fucks up. Or maybe it's me, i dont know.

I'll admit, I am not the easiest person to get along with. As a friend, yeah, i'm great! lol but as a girlfriend? not so much. See, when I love, I love hard! I mean, I have literally given all that I've had to make sure whoever he is, is happy. I mean, I give up money, my heart, my emotions, I give him absolutely everything. Because I honestly believe that a man is the head of the family. and when I love someone, even in a friendship, i consider that person family. So I feel as though the head of the family, the man should respect the woman and she should uplift the man.... Now herein lies the problem, lol because I would be uplifting but not getting the respect.

And i know it's not always because the man is a jackass from the beginning. Although, quite a few times, that was the case. But I know I can push men away very easily. I tend to become overly protective, which somehow always comes off as jealousy lmao! I also become quite combative when I don't feel as though I'm getting the respect that I deserve. That part I blame on my parents. We grew up in a fighting household. And after my first school fight, which happened to be with a boy, my father told me to wait 2 weeks, when the boy wasn't thinking about it and then smack him with a 2x4! (Thank God I didnt listen to him lol) but I never really was taught how to love. Everything was always a fight.

On top of everything else, I'm a big ass crybaby! This is why I dont argue. Because once i started getting emotional people take it as a sign of weakness, instead of what it really is, a warning. If I start crying, look out! Cause my next move is to pick up a bottle, a shoe or a 2x4 and smack somebody! lol I laugh now, cause when I sit back and watch my actions, I can see how animated and over the top and entertaining I can be. But when I'm in the midst of it, the shit is not funny to me at all.

But anyway, Because of my own actions, and because I have a habit of picking assholes over nice guys all the time (another blog for another day) I always end up by myself. Alone. Lonely.

And I know, I have my kids, but its not the same thing. Sometimes, I just want someone to be there to hold me at night, to hold my hand in the movies, to tell me they love me, and mean it. BUt I havent had that in a long time. And the sad part is that I've gotten used to my life this way.

Yes, it's great not to NEED a man for anything. I dont have to answer any questions, dont have to explain anything. but I''m tired of one night love affairs and lowering my standards just to have an inkling of romance for a few minutes.

So, yeah, Fuck Love.....hopefully Mr. Right will come along before my heart complete turns to stone.

Pregnancy Sucks....or maybe its just me

So....im sitting here watching this tv show "one born every minute", a reality show about a labor & delivery ward. one of the ladies was getting an epidural and all the memories of my children's births came rushing back.

With both of my boys i had to have c-sections and they were both very stressful pregnancies and surgeries. I recently started thinking about trying to have a girl, even though i never really wanted a girl, but i guess because im getting older she keeps popping in my head. i mentioned this imaginary daughter to a friend of mine and he told me "you're damn near 40 why would you want a baby? And then all your kids will have different fathers!" he doesn't know it but that really hurt me. i know im the first one to proclaim a fight with any child but i really do love children. (Don't tell them that) and i guess since i've had so much trouble, i just want one blissful, drama free pregnancy. Or at least one where someone will give me a seat on the bus.

with Jonathan i was being abused throughout the pregnancy. My pressure was high. I was on bedrest from 6 months. And when i was 8 months pregnant the doctors decided it was time for Jay to come out. I didnt want a cesaeran. But after, i honestly dont know how many hrs, with no progress and my sickness (HELLP Syndrome) setting in and making me sicker, i had no choice.i was diagnosed with pre-eclampsia but by the time i was strapped up to the machines and ready to deliver my pressure kept rising, but my blood platelets were dropping in addition to my liver being effected. If i had given natural birth, they told me there was a chance I'd bleed to death, because they may not be able to control the blood. I was heartbroken. I felt like less of a mother because i didn't push him out. During the surgery, his father didnt hold my hand, he didnt stroke my hair, he didnt kiss me, he didnt even look at me. I was in and out of conscienceness due to all the medication. All i remember is hearing my firstborn cry, then waking up in the recovery room. I couldn't breastfeed him because i still had so many drugs in my system, i was afraid it would pass through my milk. I cant even tell u to this day what time he was born without looking on his birth certificate. I dont know how long i labored before they decided to cut me. thats how much drugs were in me! Then he developed jaundice and had to stay in the hospital. that was the only time i cried, when the doctor told me he wasnt going home with me. (It was only one extra day, but it felt like forever) His great grandmother told me that it was my fault he had jaundice because i didnt breastfeed him. Talk about guilt! when he finally did come home, i never got the chance to bond with him. I had serious complications with my incision, one day, while trying to scoot back on the bed i popped a staple. And thank God i did! I went to the dr, bleeding like a stuck pig, and she found a blood clot the size of a sausage in there! After that my incision had to be left open and stuffed with gauze. I was literally walking around with my stomach wide open! I had to have a nurse come twice a day and clean out my wound and re-stuff me. It was scary as hell! I couldnt even pick my baby up. My mother, brother and his father had to do everything for me. We never got the mom and baby time. as soon as i was well i had to go back to work and he was in daycare from the time he was 6 wks old. I never got to bond with my baby.

Now Justice was a different story. With him i wasnt being abused physically but i had absolutely no support. everyone wanted me to have an abortion, i was threatened by Jonathans father that he was gonna kick me in my stomach. Justice's father didnt talk to me until i was 5 months pregnant, once i told him he was having a son. before that time, i was told my one of the doctors in the practice that i had a miscarriage and needed a D&C because they couldnt find his heartbeat. I prayed and cried and prayed and cried and made a deal with God that if he let my baby be healthy i'd give him back to him. obviously they found his heartbeat but then other problems arose. because of the complications i had with Jay the original ob/gyn wanted me to have an amnio and if i decided to keep the baby i was told id still probably have to have another surgery. I started bleeding in my 7th month and had to run more tests. I went on bedrest in my 8th month this time. We had a scheduled c-section so i wasnt too shocked. But his father wasnt there. He dropped me off at the hospital and said "call me when the boy gets here". My sister was in the delivery room with me. the surgery was quick and i was awake for the whole thing. I went in at 10am and Justice was here at 10:56am. I was able to see him, i was able to kiss him, i told him "welcome to the world Mookie. I fight kids!" i took pics with him. when i recovered i tried breastfeeding but he wouldnt latch on. But i tried. I wasnt groggy or high or hopped up on painkillers. He slept in the room with me majority of the night. I was strong enough to take care of him. When we got home was the only time i cried with him. I was in so much pain and his father kept forgetting my percosets prescription. I was alone with him and his brother. Because Jonathans father was trying to make my life miserable and Justice's father wasnt being bothered, i had to bring my baby on crowded buses to bring Jay to school before Justice was even a week old. He stayed in that kangaroo pouch on my chest for a good 3 months. I bonded with Justice because i had no other choice. I took the summer off from work so that i could spend more time with big brother. I didnt want him feeling neglected because of the new baby. Justice has never been to daycare, because i couldnt afford it. I dont work in the same industry and just couldnt handle the weekly payments alone. He's been home with me his whole life. the same friend who asked about me having a baby at 40 tells me 'u baby that boy, he's too big for that!" when i say i still rock him to sleep. Like clockwork, at 9:30 Justice climbs in my lap and i lull him to sleep. Yeah he gets babied cuz he wasnt supposed to be here but he is!

As much as i dont like kids, apparently they dont like me either cuz they keep trying to kill me during my pregnancies lol yeah pregnancy sucks! having your stomach cut open twice sucks. Healing from a c-section with ur belly wide open or no pain killers sucks monkey balls! But if i could do it right, just once.....just one time where i can enjoy the pleasures of growing a person....the attention...being able to eat whatever i want...the maternity clothes...feeling ur baby have the hiccups or seeing ur belly poke when he stretches....knowing your baby's sleeping habits before you can see his face.....just one more chance.

But then again, i AM almost 40. I already have 2 different baby daddys. (Who both haved stepped up and take excellent care of their sons) I'm already judged and criticized and been made into another negative stereotyped statistic. I guess ME having a baby doesnt fit into what SOCIETY thinks I should do....

phone blogging

yay!! it works!

Hell..

Talib Kweli - Hell lyrics | LyricsMode.com

RIP Chandrika Green 4-5-97

"Well, Ms. Green, your nose is broken. How exactly did this happen again?" The doctor asked and glanced at John.
"I got into a fight with a girl downtown." I Said without a second thought. The doctor knew I was lying.

It was April 5, 1997. I will never forget that date. Day, Chesla and I were going to go to the skating rink on Rt.22. We were in our early 20's and someone was having a party that night. We stopped at Adam's, the little bar we chilled at before heading to the rink. At some point, Chesla started saying she wasn't feeling well and was going home. SO she left to take the train and Day and I stayed at the bar. Trying to figure out what to do, we decided that we would go to Gregory's that night. Gregory's was one of the only clubs in Orange. There was Gregory's and The Peppermint Lounge, but the "Mint" was a more mature crowd. So we went down the block to Gregory's and thats when my life ended.

Everybody who knows me, knows that I dont dance. Unless I'm drunk. Well that night, I must have been blasted because I remember dancing with quite a few guys. The club was packed, and everybody was sweaty. Thats why I dont dance, I hate having sweaty men all over me. But I felt his arms slide around my waist and his hips begin to move in motion with mine. I turned my head to see who was holding me. He was about 6'0, light brown skin, really thin, with this gorgeous smile. I recognized him from the barbershop, I had seen him and his girl there a few weeks ago and he was watching me then. I smiled back and kept dancing. When the music switched he pulled me to the back of the club where there were tables and chairs set up. We sat there, trying to talk over the music.
"what's your name?"
"John."

We sat there talking for a few more minutes before the club ended. Day, with her new friend in tow, found me and said we were going to Kless Diner. I asked John if he was coming with us and he followed me out. I haven't been able to get rid of him since that day.

We argued from that very first night. Somebody walked past the car and we were laughing at him for some reason. I said the man had on janitor blue pants, John said they were green. We argued for about 5 minutes on the color of this strangers pants. That should've been my first clue. At some point throughout the night we talked about relationships. He told me he didn't have a girlfriend, that they had broken up, he was 24, he was an only child and he worked at foodtown in Madison. Everything that came out of his mouth was a lie!

A few days later, he drove to my house in Madison. he said he had to come pick up his check, in reality it was his girl's car and he was dropping her off at Foodtown, where she worked. Chesla and Kathy came over to chill and met John. I thought he looked young to be 24, I was 22 at the time. Chesla called him on it and asked for is ID. We laughed it off but when he wouldnt show her his license, the whole scenario went right into my "don't trust this nigga" mental file. But i guess I lost the key to that file cabinet because no matter how many things I filed in there I couldn't pull any of that information back out for review. It's like I just started to accept any and everything he said and did.

We started going out. (We even argue to this day about the day we met, I say it was the 5th, he says it was after midnight, so it was the 6th.) We didn't see each other everyday, I lived in Madison and he lived in Orange. And neither of us had a car. I found out the truth over the next few weeks. Not only did he lie about the girlfriend and the car and the job, but he had a little sister! And a bunch of other brothers and sisters from his father. He was not an only child. And he was 18, just turned 19 a few weeks after we met! I still let everything slide. Don't ask me why. He was not at all my first anything. I'd been in love already, actually engaged. I'd been deflowered. I'd been with handsome, charming men. My self esteem was still pretty low at the time but I had enough experience to know better. I dont know what it was. And the longer I was with him, the less handsome he became to me. It's like all his devilish and coniving ways would show up in his face. Like those demons in that movie "the Devil's Advocate".

Of Course, eventually, the girlfriend and I had a run in, a couple of times. Once, I used my mothers car to go see John. He wasn't home so I went through the block where one of his best friends hung out. As I pulled up on the block I saw him and her in her car, he was driving. He saw me too because he pulled a U-Turn and jetted up the street. I was right behind him. He was running red lights, I was right behind him. He was driving on the wrong side of the road, I was right there. Finally she got him to pull over and she got out of the car. See by this time, we had been together a few months. He told me he was done with her, he wasnt seeing her anymore...more lies. She came to my mothers car and asked what was going on. I told her, that i need to talk to John. She calmly went to her car, told him to get out and she drove off. Seemed simple enough right? Wrong. John got in the car with me. I was never the type to kick people out, especially on the streets. I'd hate to have something happen and it be on my conscience. Anyway, I was bringing him back to 16th Ave and 16th Street where Darnell, his friend, was. The whole time he's apologizing telling me he is in love with me but he's in love with her too. and he just needed to see what was what, and all this bullshit. So we pull up on the block and this chick is there. Talking to Darnell. I heard her say something about a bitch, so i parked the car. John begs me to stay in the car and he hops out. They're arguing and Darnell is talking to me now, trying to stall me or calm me down, one. Then I hear him say that he loves both of us. I go to pull off and Darnell stops me. Somehow and for some reason I was outside of the car. She said something else slick and I jumped for her, again Darnell saved her because he grabbed me and sat me on the roof of my car. I climbed down the other side. I look in the car and this fat heifer is in my car!! John had taken her car keys and thrown them into my car and she was looking for them.
"get that bitch outta my car!"
"I'm trying to find my keys!"
"Move!! Ill get ur fucking keys!"
And in the meantime of me grabbing her keys from under the passenger seat I grabbed the Club, you remember that bar people used to put on their steering wheels so the car wouldnt get stolen? I grabbed that, and pulled it into 2 pieces and went after John. Thats when the cops pulled up.
"who's car is this?"
"Mine." I said
"Do you know ur on the wrong side of the road?"
"yeah, i was trying to run her fat ass over but i realized she would leave a dent in the car and i wouldnt be able to explain it to my mother"
The cop shook his head and laughed. I swear.
"well, whats all this about?"
"Infidelity." the cop laughed again. "Miss, sit in ur car."

Now, If I had talked to the girl instead of trying to kill her I would've learned all of the things that he said to her, what he did to her. how he would hit her in public just to humiliate her. he would trip her in the middle of broad and market streets in Newark, because she would say something smart. I would've learned how insecure and crazy he really was. She and I did have that talk, years later. after he did all of that and more to me.

Over the next 7 years I was cheated on, abused, thrown in jail for stealing for him, put in the hospital, had cell phones stolen and broken, spat on, kicked, choked, had my car stolen, had high chairs thrown at me, had my front door kicked in, was thrown on the ground, kicked out of cars, got a busted lip, left stranded and had my nose broken. I've lived in fear of what he would do to me. He would have people watching my house and reporting to him where I was going. When I left him and went to Chesla's with our child, he came with his friend Dave and stole my car, so that I couldnt go anywhere. They were good for that. He would have Dave take my car and hide it on numerous occasions. When I called the cops, they'd say he had a key so he wasn't really stealing it. We were in court for a restraining order and he pushed me and told the magistrate that a piece of paper really couldnt stop him from doing anything to me and he has no respect for the courts. And he was still able to walk out of the courtroom. It's like he can say and do anything and never get punished for it.

In February 2001 I found out I was pregnant. We even argued over that! When I made him take me to walgreens in the middle of the night to get a pregnancy test and it was positive i just threw it at him and said "told u". He was immediately ecstatic, He held me and apologized and he cried. I cried too, but it wasnt tears of joy. He told everybody! I thought ok, things are going to change, he's happy now. he's going to start treating me right. Wrong!! Things just got worse. True he was excited about the baby, but it felt like, if he could make me give birth at 3 months he would have and just taken the baby. Every single doctors appointment I had he was there. now on the outside, everyone was so excited. "Oh, John is so caring, he's such a good father already, he's worried about you." Bullshit! He was controlling what I could say to my doctor. I never wanted him there. As a matter of fact, he had moved out and was living with another girl. He and I were not together in anyway. Yet, he insisted on controlling everything. this was when he started stealing my car. It was during the pregnancy when I had to get stitches in my lip. I still have the scar on my elbow from when he threw me across the gravel parking lot. When I was about 6 months pregnant and home on bed rest he choked me until i blacked out.

I had Jonathan Chan on November 13, 2001. A month early. I fell ill to pre-eclampsia which turned to HELLP syndrome which was effecting my liver, blood platelets and pressure. I had to have an emergency c-section. John was there for the whole thing. Never held my hand, never kissed me, he was just there. The Ob-Gyn told me, on the one occasion that John didnt come to the appointment, "Your pressure is down today, I wonder why." She was a very keen caretaker and she knew what was going on without me saying anything. After Jonathan was born the doctor visited me in the hospital and as she held the baby she said "i would never say this in front of dad, but all the stress he put you through, this baby came out looking just like him!"

Now I know either your thinking one of 2 things, "what did u do to him to make him do all that?" or "He's a monster!" I'll tell you what I would do. I would speak my mind, I never said "yo momma" or none of that really disrespectful stuff. Yall know I say whatever I want, and he didnt like that. And obviously, I would fight. as you can tell from earlier in the story, so that made him even more mad! How dare i hit him back! But I tell everybody.....I'll fight you, I may not win but don't ever think i'll back down.

Alot happened. Just imagine 7 yrs of physical abuse, and he continued to mentally abuse me for years after I left him. He still tries. Now Im a "terrible mother", "a whore", "a bitch", I can't "take care" of my kids, etc. etc. Honestly, yeah sometimes I do yell back, I still dont allow people to disrespect me. But mostly, no matter how much it hurts me to hear those words, how much i want to smack the shit outta him or send somebody to handle the situation, mostly, I just say your right John and hang up the phone.

I have no choice but to deal with him at least until our son is graduated from college. But the damage he inflicted on me still permeates through all of my current relationships. If any man says anything slick to me, I give it right back to him. If he tells me he is single, I dont believe him. He can show me ID, his birth certificate and an affidavit from his mother and I still wont believe half of what I see.I'm always on the defensive, because i never want to be hurt again.

I always joke and tell people that I'm only 22 in my head. Because little do they know, that was when my life ended. So that is where my mind is stuck. I've lost my 20's and the majority of my 30's. I just want to live my best life now....you only live once right??

One Night Love Affair **For Mature Adults Only**

As he kissed my left cheek I thought about the night we had. How he taught me things, and I showed him a few tricks. How he had me on the dresser, against the wall, on the floor and the bed. How he whispered in my ear all of the things he wanted to do to me and how he waited too long for me. The whole night was full of passion from the time he brought me home.

We knew each other in college. Nothing ever happened. We had maybe one class together, but basically I would see him across campus, at parties, in the cafeteria. He was out of my league anyway. He was a smooth, chocolate brother. about 6'3 or so, nice body, sexy as hell. Every female that came across him wanted him, badly. But he always gave off this vibe like, he didnt care about chicks crushing on him. I was intimidated. I'll admit it. I was very shy back then. I had only had one boyfriend and low self esteem, so, me approaching him was out of the question. But that didnt stop the dreams I would have about him. Little did I know that one day those dreams would come true and he would be everything I thought & fantasized about.

We ran into each other at a local store. I didnt even know he worked in the area. "Hey, I know u." he remembered who I was??
"Do you? And where do you know me from?" I was far from the shy girl he once knew.
"We went to school together didn't we?"
"yep. How have you been?"
"I'm good. You look like you're good too!" he said with a smile.
"I've been told." I laughed.
We exchanged numbers, he gave me a hug and promised to call me. He never even had to call me, I was just so happy that he knew who I was.

Over the next few days we talked and texted. We reminisced over people we went to school with..."Did u know 'so&so'?" "I remember him but I never really chilled with him." That's how our conversations went.
Then one time he told me, "You know I always wanted to fuck you!"
I was surprised! I never thought in my wildest dreams that he even recognized me, and here, come to find out, he's been wanting me all along! I was happy and sad at the same time. All of these years I lusted after him, even after school, after he was long gone from my life, he would show up in my fantasies. His face would replace that of my other lovers. I would smell his cologne on someone else and think of him. All of these years....I could have been with the real thing and not a figment of my imagination.
"Hello, why are u so quiet? Did I disrespect you? I'm sorry."
I was trying to stop blushing long enough to answer him.
"No, no, you just surprised me thats all. i didnt even know you knew I existed"
"What? of course! I was always attracted to you. You just always looked like you were so mean."
"are you kidding me? you know I had the biggest crush on you! All my girls did. And now look."
"so?"
"So, what?"
"Can I?"
"Can you what?" He confused the hell out of me now.
"can I fuck you?" Oh My Goodness!!!

We set up a time when I would go to see him. AS soon as I saw him he gave me the biggest, warmest hug. Like he didnt want to let me go. We went out to eat and get drinks. We really enjoyed our time together.
"So, are you going home now? Or do you have time to chill?" he asked rubbing my leg. Now why did he go and do that?
"Nah, i have time. But I'll need to leave by 12." lying.

We got to his house and started to watch a movie, I think it was "The Hangover". We never saw the end of the movie.

He rubbed on my thigh and looked me in my eyes.
"I can't believe you're here, at my house."
I smiled and sipped my drink.

He leaned in and kissed my cheek. He grabbed me and pulled me into him, taking my cup out of my hand and sitting it on the side table. He kissed me in my mouth, a hard passionate kiss. I grabbed the back of his head and kissed him back. He pulled me in tighter, grabbing my ass. He moved his mouth down my neck and then onto my breasts. He sucked on them until i thought milk was going to come out. Then he pulled my pants down and moved his mouth down further. I almost burst into tears, He did magic with his tongue. I couldn't help but to grab his head and push him further into me. Once I screamed with delight, he came up for air, grabbed my hand and led me to the bedroom. He laid back on the bed and I started to take his clothes off. I took off his jeans and he was at full attention. He whispered to me, "I've waited for years to put all of this inside of you..." I immediately got wet. So I returned the favor and went down on him. All i could hear was him saying "Oh my God! Are you for real?" over and over. I guess he couldn't take it anymore, He grabbed me by my hair and lifted my head up. "come here" he commanded, and I loved it. I straddled his lap and slid on top of him. All i could do was open my mouth. I rode him while he grabbed and sucked on my breasts. I leaned in and licked his neck and bounced my ass on his dick. I squealed as I squirted all over him. He flipped me over and slid into me. He was everything I imagined he would be. he looked at me..."Stop licking your tongue like that girl, you're turning me on!" I just smiled at him. he asked me, "What are you thinking about?" I smile again and I tell him, "I can't believe I'm fucking YOU!!"

This lasted all night long, I mean all-night-long. the next morning I couldnt even walk straight.

So he kisses me on my left cheek as he's dropping me off. And I just keep thinking about the night before. That was the best sex I ever had in my life. I swear if I didnt know any better I would've thought there was a camera hidden in there and he was performing for a porno. He tells me he had a great time and he hopes we can do it again. I tell him yes but knowing damn well, i won't. After all my husband wouldn't approve of it.


*Names and places have been changed to protect the not-so-innocent

I'm in love .....with a Leo

I love Lions! They are my absolute favorite animal. If I could have one as a pet, I would. I am so obsessed with the king of the jungle that when that movie, "The Lion King" came out, I bought the video tape, and didn't even have any kids. If I was a cartoon lioness, Mufasa would have no problem replenishing the pride! I love how lions move, I love how cool they are, I love their color, I love how they are so laid back until it's time for war. I love everything about those beautiful creatures.


I've always been attracted to Leos. Which is not necessarily a good thing. Sometimes, i dont even know that the guy is a Leo at first, it's just something that draws me in to them. But I'm a Scorpio, and Scorpio and Leo don't seem to mesh very well. We are both very stubborn people. And very fickle. We both seem to attract alot of attention from the opposite sex and I know for Scorpio, that stinger comes out really quick, because as much as we try to deny it, we are possesive and jealous. It may seem like everything is perfect between Leo and Scorpio, but then one thing happens and it all falls apart as quickly as it came together.

I loved him, I really did. He was so handsome, beautiful complexion, intelligent, I loved the way he moved. Don't ask me why I fell for him. He never treated me right, He never took me out, He never bought me anything, He never loved me back. But He'd say "I care". And that, he thought, should've been good enough for me. When It wasn't enough and I pushed for more, I pushed him away.

We met awhile ago, through mutual friends. We used to talk about any and everything. We were more friends then anything else. We would drink and smoke and party together. When I'm with him I feel like a teenager. I just had fun with him. Then one day, all that changed. We became more than just friends. That was fine at first, I didnt care. Actually he was the one that persued me. I didn't want to be bothered, but somehow he won me over. He'd give me those "eyes", smile, tell me I was sexy (although he never called me pretty, that should've been my first clue). He always made sure there was liquor around, my favorite kind, because everyone knows when I get drunk i get touchy feely. And since I was already obviously attracted to him, I would give in.


Somehow, my overly emotional feminine side, at some point took over. Which sucks. I hate being a female sometimes. But eventually I ended up falling for him. And I fell hard. Even though I knew he had other girls, and I had other dudes. Everything I did was to please him. What I wore, How I did my hair, everything. He never had to ask me for anything, I would just do it. I did this for quite sometime, until, as I like to say, my estrogen levels dropped and the testerone rose. Most people just call it "coming to your senses". but for me, when I am in love, I lose all common sense. All I want is to make sure that man is happy, even if it means sacrificing my own.


The ending of the story is....there is no ending. We are still friends, He still tries to persue me, Sometimes, I'm the one on the chase....But it seems that Leos are more similar to lions than I realized, even down to mating for life. I still love him, I really do. But my stinger has already been drawn, and the venom has been released and now things will never be the same.


The crazy thing about this story?? It's not one person that I'm talking about. It was two different men, two different times, same attitude. So if you thought you knew who I was talking about, think again.

I love Lions, it's true. But I got a feeling, Leos are not for me.....

Old Memories......New Beginnings

My very first memory of my parents is my mother hiding me in the bathroom, while my father was getting jumped by my aunts at a family cookout. Nice right? I think I had to be about 3 yrs old.

Unfortunately, I dont have many memories of my father in my early years. And the ones I do have are not all that good. My dad, Walter Green, was a Jamaican-born, 6'2", dark skin, handsome, tempermental man. He was a carpenter by trade, but I dont really remember him working too much. He also worked as a Janitor for the Poughkeepsie Schools for sometime. But I mostly remember him being home, always injured, smoking weed, drinking and selling drugs out of our home.

My mother, Theresa Braxton, was born and raised in the Poughkeepsie, Millbrook area of upstate New York. She was the only daughter of Harold and Bernice, who, between the two families had tons of relatives in the area. She and her brother were known as the "fighting Braxtons" because she says, in the 1960's people were very comfortable using the word "nigger".

My mother never really dwelled on how she and my father met. I dont have any romantic stories to tell about them. And even when I ask she replies, "we met, we got married, we had kids, he left." I do know, from stories I've overheard throughout the years that Ma was an independent, hard-working, fashionable & caring young woman, before my Dad came along. She worked at a phone company, went to Nursing School, had enough clothes and shoes to just give away to her cousins. She would take care of her godchildren and baby cousins for weekends at a time. She always tells me the story of how some guy was trying to pick her up in a bar and told her "you aint the prettiest thing but you built like a brick shit house baby!"

My parents married in April 1973. I was born in November 1974, their first child. Within that time, somehow my father had the nerve to put his hands on my mother to physically hurt her. And somehow, not that she accepted it, but it started to break her down. Kill her spirit. When I asked my Mom, "why did you stay after he hit you the first time?" She answered, "cuz i was young and stupid and believed him when he said he wouldnt do it again." Now, I dont know often, why, where any of this happened. All i know is that there is no way my grandfather or uncle knew anything about it, because they would've killed my father. It's amazing how women can hide abuse so easily for so many years. That just shows one of two things; either we love our abuser so much that we have to protect them even when they are trying to destroy us or we are ashamed of what has happened to us.

So, back to the cookout, my first memory of Mommy and Daddy. My grandparents always had get-togethers at their house. My grandfather would have these giant grills that were made out of old oil drums or something. My grandmother would prepare all of the food inside and Poppop would cook. They had a gazebo on one side of the yard, where we kids, when we weren't getting into trouble would sit and play cards or ease drop on grown-up conversations. beyond the gazebo was a small hill and another small yard. On the other side of the yard was a huge hill that grew dandelions every spring. I always thought of that movie "The Sound of Music" when I would run to the top of the hill. There was a small garage, that no one parked in, at the bottom of that hill on the other side of the long driveway. Next to the garage was our swing set. My sister, cousins and I would play on there for what seemed like hrs, singing, fighting, talking. behind the house was a small garden that my grandmother used to tend to. If I remember correctly, we used to save our watermelon seeds and try to plant them there. I dont remember anything ever coming of those seeds though. beyond the garden was the back door to the house, which led to the basement or you could go to the other side of the house and come up on that small hill that I mentioned earlier. It seemed like a huge place when we were small. But it reality it was just a small yellow and green house on a hill.

At some point, I remember Daddy standing close to swing set, I was near the front door I think, at the picnic table. I saw him hit Mommy. I dont remember if it was a slap or a punch, but I remember my aunts running over there. I'm pretty sure other people ran too, but all I remember is my Aunt Gloria....running. Next thing I know I was in the small bathroom of my grandparents house. My mother sat me on the closed toilet and she sat on the edge of the tub in front of me. This is actually the last time I ever remember her telling me, "its gonna be ok, I love you." I have no recollection at all of her ever telling me she loved me since that day. Not saying that she didnt, I just dont remember.

Over the next 14 yrs, my father did not improve, at all. There were times when he would be in prison and Mommy had to take care of us all alone. Thats probably when she was her happiest, because when he was home he was beating on her. He never laid a hand on me though. But I was still scared to death of him. Daddy wasn't all bad though. Its hard for my mother and brother and sister when I say that, but that was MY relationship with Daddy. Once, I was in 4th grade and got in trouble for selling colored sand in school. Daddy was locked up in the county Jail. Ma screamed and hollered and threatened me and told me, "we're going to see your father!! you tell him what you did!" So we went, I was crying so hard i got a headache. I don't know why, he was in jail, he never beat me anyway. So he definitely wasn't gonna be able to hit me then. But I was nervous nonetheless. I told him what happened, through the small glass window. How I sold viles of sand to other kids in my class and then tried to cover it up by hiding the letter from the teacher. I dont know what he said to me, but I know he saved me. He begged Mommy not to beat me. So I was grounded, until she said otherwise. 28 years and 2 kids later, I think I'm still technically grounded! Daddy and I would cook together, go shopping (what I later realized was more shoplifting than actually paying for goods), hang out, watch tv, paint....He was my Daddy. I didnt know any different.

One time, we walked into our apartment after Mommy had picked us up from school. Everything was completely dark and I saw a figure sitting in the middle of the room as Ma turned on the lights. Daddy was home from jail!!I was so happy! I just remember hugging him so tight. After my brother was born, Daddy would hold Harold on his forearm, like one of those blaxploitation, velvet pictures, and kiss him over and over. He adored my sister, Tiffani. Regardless of it all, he was always still Daddy.

Like I've said, I knew Daddy would beat up on Mommy. I was the one who would have to call the cops. I was the one who was told, I was fat and ugly just like my mother. I was the one he called lazy. The one he would force to eat every bit of food on my plate while my sister was allowed to leave the table, and then I would have to finish her plate too. I would hear him slamming her into walls and the slap of a belt against her skin. I saw and heard things that my mother still doesn't know that i've seen. But that one day, when she had to drive to the police station, with blood streaming out of her head, thats when my point of view of Daddy really changed. I think Daddy was locked out or something, but for some reason we had to go to the apartment building we lived in. Daddy was standing outside. I saw him coming to the car and as I opened my mouth with a smile to say "Hi, Daddy!" he hit my mother in the head with a hammer! I don't know how many times he hit her. I remember being in the police station and the cops telling her, as she stood there bleeding that they didnt see him do it so they couldnt do anything about it.

Daddy left in 1989. Not voluntarily, but at the "urging" of the U.S. Government. All the drug dealing and shootings and armed robberies and whatever else he did finally caught up to him and the FBI showed up at the door. Alot of his dealings have been blocked from my memory. But from what i've been told, once, people came to the house to kill him, and I answered the door. I remember traveling to the Bronx and Newburgh and Kingston with him on his drug runnings, whether he was picking up or selling, I was right there. I remember seeing him free basing in our bathroom. I remember him actually teaching me how to roll an ez-wider. Even though I can't roll a blunt to save my life now. I remember all types of people in and out of our house. I remember a schoolmate showing up to work for Daddy. I remember meeting our brother Avery, before my brother Harold was born. I remember being frightened when Daddy's lungs collapsed on Main Street and I had to run home to get Mommy. I remember him teaching me how to make a glass painting, cook calamari, make dumplings. I remember his stupid lil song about an old jamaican dude on a porch lying about his name. I remember his glasses, Mommy braiding his hair, I remember that big ass boombox he used to carry, the green gremlin that he drove, when he would leave money for me in my room (then turn around and ask for it back), how when i broke my arm he carried me home and bought me a whole box of doughnuts to nurse me to health while we waited to go to the hospital.....i remember Daddy.

The entire time she was with my father, Mommy worked 2 or 3 jobs at a time, went to school, was active in church. She was never home, but it was because she had to provide for us. No one ever faulted her for that. My mother is amazing!! And even though My father broke her spirit, she still showed us how much she loves us everyday, even when she doesnt say it. But when my father wasnt in jail or working, he was our caretaker after school and in the summer. When he was deported, I felt like he abandoned me, even though he put my family through hell. I hated him. The more I thought about the physical abuse he inflicted on my mother, the psychological abuse he put me through, the more I hated him. I even wrote him a letter telling him "the only thing i learned from you is how to break the law...I have a son now and I pray that he never grows up to be like you....You are dead to me."

Recently, I started to forgive my father. For everything. I've reached out to my brother Avery, who we held malice against for yrs, and for no reason. He was a baby, he didnt ask to be brought into that situation anymore than we did. Now, he is wrapped up in some legal issues and I havent been able to meet him in person but we write to each other and speak on the phone, like we were raised together. I have spoken to Daddy on the phone a few times. He's cried and apologized for everything he has done and put us through. He told me "I worry about you guys, but I worry the most about you, because you are the most like me." I smiled, and dropped a tear at the same time. Because he has no idea how much like him I really am. I have so much of Green's traits that it scares me sometimes. He told me that I have a 9 yr old sister in Jamaica, now. My sister, Tiffani and I were even planning on taking a trip to go see Daddy. There's this line in a Tyler Perry movie where he says something like "forgiveness is not for the other person, it's to set yourself free. You walking around mad at this person and they're going on with their lives." I actually cried when I forgave Daddy. And he didn't even know it. All the hate I had for him, I transferred to all the dudes I ever encountered in my life. To all of my relationships, friendships, and worst of all to myself. I dont know what my father did from the time I was 14 until I forgave him 5 yrs ago. I dont know anything about him anymore. But I'm willing to find out. Because no matter what, that's still my Daddy. and I love him.

The birth of Chaune Braxton nee Chandrika Green

No I am not Schizophrenic. I do not have any type of mental disabilities. (At least not any that have been officially diagnosed) I just like to keep my mind active and also, somehow, get some money my pocket! Why not?? In the past year, I have started a virtual assistant business, a jewelry business and now....Well, at the urging of several friends I have decided to start writing, professionally. I decided to use the pen name Chaune Braxton. Chaune (pronunced Shawnee) is just a different spelling of my nickname that I have had since birth. Braxton is in homage to my grandparents, Harold and Bernice Braxton, who always inspire me, even in their absence.

I have always been a writer. I wrote plays for my church, kept a journal, wrote poems, blogs, i'm on twitter, facebook, myspace, wrote long ass "women scorned" letters to ex-lovers and even prefer to text than talk, because it is easier for me to write. I never thought anyone really paid any attention to my life. I mean, yeah its important and interesting to me, but it is MY life....who knew so many people cared about what happens to me and my bad ass kids on a daily basis?? I cannot name anyones names, first of all because now that I'll be getting paid, I'm not giving up any royalties and also because I know I'll forget someone. But I want to thank all of you who have encourged and pushed for me to do something positive with all of my negativity.

Well, just in case any of you reading this actually can refer me to a real job, let me tell you a little about myself that you may not know, so that you can see what kind of craziness will be spewing out of my miniscule mind....

I am a thirty-something year old, Christian, Afican-American, single mother of 2 young boys. I am a Hairdresser by trade, a college dropout, former wannabe history teacher. I do not drive, I live in the "hood" and I take public transportation, which means i encounter all types of people. I listen to music like most people drink water. I love hip hop especially old school hip hop (not biggie smalls...old school meaning anything circa 1988 or before) I listen to all types of music, rock, country, pop, gospel, everything. Um, what else....let's just say that in all my years on this rock called Earth, I have seen and been through it all....abuse, rape, alcoholism, nicotine addicition, jail, drugs, sex, child birth, death, love, love-lost, pain...everything! And guess what? I can find something funny or sarcastic to say about it all! Life is way too short to be serious all the time. God wants us to laugh, otherwise he wouldn't have created man.

Now since I'm just starting out in this field, I don't know what prices to charge, or even how to actually get started. I'm just stepping out on faith. One of my favorite scriptures is Psalm 126:5 "They that sow in sorrow; shall reap in joy." and Lord knows, I've had enough sorrow in my life. I honestly and truely believe that this is my time. Thats why I'm trying so many different things. one of these ventures has to pop off! Besides that God doesnt want us to be broke....We should have streams of income from a variety of sources coming in, and since child support is not one of them, I gotta make it happen on my own!

Well, I just hope that this pans out as something profitable. If not, thats cool too...maybe it can serve as my anger management since i can't afford therapy....alcohol is way cheaper! Now I'm going to go light up a newport and clean this house, since my sons have decided to have random science experiments brewing in various rooms at the same damn time......

Peace & Blessings

Chaune Braxton nee Chandrika Green

"hey Chaune!" you might say, "How can I reach you and see what you have written?" "well..." I'd reply "you can find me in a few places....just look below."

www.divadlux.blogspot.com
www.facebook.com/divadlux
@divadlux
chandrikagreen@aol.com

Another hole in my head!

ok, so i was just researching microdermal piercings. I went to have my labret pierced (the area of my lip right above my chin) and saw one of the workers at the shop with piercing right next to her eye, like she was crying diamonds. I thought it was sooooooo dope!! So I asked the price, started looking to see how it was put in. (a small piece of ur skin is removed and an anchor is placed in ur face which the earring screws into) and i was like "ok, i can take that. that wont hurt too much" I was all ready to go next week and get it.



But mind you I am 36 yrs old and although i love getting the piercings now, Im sure when I start having grandkids that they wont want me showing up at their christmas recital with earrings in my face. I've seen a nose piercing heal, had mine pierced twice. I know how a tongue piercing heals, I had mine pierced 3 times. When I take my labret piercing out, my lip is big enough that it will cover whatever hole is there. But i never saw how a microdermal teardrop looked when it is removed.....then i saw a video of them taking one out....



OH HELL THE FUCK NAW!!!!



I know we only live once but i dont need no help being ugly. I can do that on my own! lmao a lil hole from my nose or lip piercing is one thing. to have gaping hole and scar under my eye?? no thank you. call me a punk!!



Next thing I googled?? "Fake dermal piercings"....TRAGIC!!!