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The woman you accuse of not having an equally exhausting day because she didn’t go to work all day – the woman you just bypassed when you got home and made yourself a sandwich meanwhile she hadn’t had a meal all day. The woman you didn’t bother to ask how her day was because it all sounds redundant to you, yet she never fails to ask how yours was. The woman you dictate how to raise her kids because your experience and age trumps her knowledge and instincts. The woman who made a hot fresh meal she was so proud of – mostly because she was able to cook the entire thing before the baby woke up – she didn’t even get to taste it and perfect it before your loose tongue criticized it. The woman who spent all day cleaning and doing errands just to get through one small space and the laundry, as you walk in and throw your clothes around. The woman who had multiple nervous breakdowns trying to breastfeed her crying newborn with shaking, tired hands and reasonable doubt that she wasn’t doing it right, yet remained resilient in giving it a fair shot. The woman who feels too much of a burden to ever ask for help so she begins what will become incomplete tasks. She’s the kind hearted, generous woman who won’t say a word, who won’t reprimand you or start a fight. She’ll just clear the plates or pick up the misplaced shorts. She’s the woman who won’t question if you can help her just a little so she can get some things done in the house. She’ll live with the built up mail scattered on the coffee table and she’ll handle the unpaid bills out of clear forgetfulness, because pregnancy brain gets worse after labor. She’s the woman who won’t complain, she’ll just absorb your bad behavior and negative energy, and go on doing what needs to be done to provide for her family, to raise her children, to create the life she envisioned. She’s the woman who will look passed your lack of empathy and appreciation and still do something thoughtful for you in those five minutes she gets to herself. She’s the woman who teared up in her baby’s screams and loses her mind after the twentieth time the baby spits out the pacifier but cries for its return, but then that baby smiles and it completely washes away the silly stress that her wound up just five minutes ago. While the clothes are always clean, the food is always cooked, the floors are always mopped: the house is never tidy, the clutter is always existent, and the coffee is always brewing. God bless the mess this woman creates trying to get her child and herself out of the house. God bless the daily repetitive routine she’s clocked into her brain to remember it all. God bless the superpowers in her tiny hands and enormous heart to keep going, to keep growing. She may not be out there working for some large corporation or out there saving the world but in these four walls, she’s sure as hell changing it. She’s raising a child who will grow with strong morals and values, she’s teaching her children of love and respect, of hard work and kindness. She’s raising the next generation of imaginative thinkers, logical researchers, kind humanitarians, hard workers, strong athletes, brave soldiers. She’s molding a world of possibilities and opportunity, not with two hands and some clay but with two hands and her heart.
Maybe we all need that reminder sometimes.
Thank you to all the moms out there. It’s not always easy and 9 out of 10 times we’re all just winging it- a part of this trial and error method to see what works for us and our kids. 9 out of 10 times moms are invisible in their struggle because “we’ve all done it,” is easier to say than to take a moment to step out of our own shoes and into someone else’s and just listen for a moment. 9 out of 10 times moms are overlooked and under appreciated, mostly unintentionally but still affected by this bringing us down. So from one mom to another, I see you. Thank you for being a superhero.
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To every woman who was ever told she was “too much…”
I hear this so often. She was just too much. ‘What was too much? In what ways?’ She was intense. She loved immensely. She asked too many questions. She cared too much. Past lovers told her she was too much so something is wrong with her.’
Ah. I understand. So you prefer mediocrity, someone who doesn’t care to check up on you, or build you up, or help you achieve your goals. You want someone who loves you less, who doesn’t ask questions to make sure you’re alright, to start a conversation, to take an interest in the things that interest you. Have I gotten that right? Oh, and then to top it off, you took something she told you in confidence, revealing weakness, insecurity, and vulnerability, and you used it against her to validate all the reasons she wasn’t good enough for you. The truth is, her “too much” is a rarity – it’s genuine, unconditional love and support. She’s someone who will go out of her way to ensure you’re taken care of and attempt to help you achieve every dream and goal. the truth is, she asks questions because she gives a damn, not because she wants to control you or the situation, but because she wants to be included. she wants to feel important. and you failed so terribly at that. you made her feel inadequate and not worthy of the one persons love, she was killing herself to have. you made her feel like she was trapped inside of herself, you made her hate herself. you made her question why she wasn’t worth it when you chose to pursue what she wanted with you, with other women. she’s not too much, you’re just too small minded. she wants a great, no regrets, beautifully imperfect love. that woman who’s “too much,” she is the top of the pedestal that you can only wish to climb one day. so to all you women, who have ever been told you’re “too much,” i know how much you wanted their love, how hard you worked, how much you tried but don’t ever feel undeserving or insignificant because you’re the reason great love exists.
and I can promise you, one day they’ll realize they lost everything because they were too weak to leave their comfort zones and have “too much.” instead they’ll be stuck with not enough.
one day they’re going to choose someone else and it’s gonna hurt a lot less because you’ll realize there’s nothing wrong with you. they were just too afraid to love and let themselves be loved by someone who was the real thing.
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we sat for awhile and pondered the wreckage of the soul. we dove into the broken hearted and what makes us make the tedious decisions leading into failure and pain. we reflected on how we got to the position we now stood, surrounded by lust and yet feeling alone, trying to block out the noise and running into abandonment to avoid commitment. it’s a slippery slope, the road of broken hearts, once you go down, it’s difficult to trust the hands trying to get you back up.
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Visit my storefront today to purchase your copy of my second published collection of poetry. As fantasy clashes with reality, this book takes you on an intricate and emotional rollercoaster of love and tragedy, lust and heartbreak, with subject matter all ages can relate to.
i never realized that you emotionally tortured me to the point where the only light i had was a dim shadow absorbed by dancing silhouettes. i made an epic love story, a captivating ballad out of your treacherous symphony. i do that sometimes. see the beauty in scars to override the ugly acts that carved them.
i never realized that you emotionally tortured me to the point where the only light i had was a dim shadow absorbed by dancing silhouettes. i made an epic love story ballad out of your treacherous symphony. i do that sometimes. see the beauty in scars to override the ugly acts that carved them.
because it’s easier to be hateful and jealous and cruel. it’s easier to ignore and lie and belittle one another. but women are strong and curious and loving. women are badass at being independent and notorious for no longer fighting when we’re not appreciated. we take breaks and bruises and limitless emotions and carry them, and transform it all into stepping stones to build our own damn castle. you need a hero? be your own hero. you need real good advice? try a therapist. you need to text your ex? trying changing need to want and buying a journal. you’re beautiful and strong and shouldn’t label yourself as flawed or perfect. you just are. you’re you. you’re present. you exist. so live with passion. be badass. live an alternative lifestyle without apology.
because i know what it’s like to be told “you’re too much.” i know what it’s like to walk on eggshells and for your feelings to be belittled. i know what it’s like to care way too much and not ever get that back, especially not from the people you gave it too. because i know what it’s like to see color in dark spaces. because i know what it’s like to be judged by your mistakes and devoured by your insecurities. because i feel fierce and good about the woman i’m still becoming. because i’m accomplished and educated and blessed. and that’s not something to take advantage of. not ever.
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the ground shook beneath her.the earth whispered,
this is it. fight like they’re worth
but let them breathe
to survive the after shock.
her love is like an earthquake.
where beauty surfaces
and no part is left untouched.
i don’t belong to earth. stripped down;
controlled and silenced.
i turn the culprits of betrayal to debris
and intensify love.
the clock screamed, too late.
but the ground shook beneath her.
she knew it was love.
and if she was right,
it would withstand everything.