She/he/they/frog/tree would’ve learned how to give and receive abuse, because my actions wouldn’t have been able to teach anything else. So ‘it’ would’ve learned how to be exactly who I was. Which is why it now makes no sense to me for unhealed people to procreate. All you can pass down is your hope that your child will be better than you are. But if you haven’t learned to be a better version of yourself, you are just creating a supervillain. Because the you that you are…attracted an equal match. Joining the trauma of two unhealed bloodlines either creates an empath…or a sociopath.

I’m usually on top of my ability to recall emotions in order to find the source of any subsequent pain. But pain from my ‘mother’ hits different. I would try to pretend I don’t feel how I feel about her…but I’m not here to waste anyone’s time. Most of the emotions I have towards her are cloaked in hatred…it is what it is. So when I force myself to recall certain details of our relationship…it leaves me either feeling hopeless…or angry. I woke up feeling both today and instead of tracking down the Girl Scouts headquarters for my third box…I decided to sit with the emotions that yesterday’s blog brought up for me.

Singlehood for my ‘mother’ is shocking because she’s always been uncomfortably beautiful…and unbelievably smart. She had no real competition in her youth. But the unhealed trauma passed down from her parents, led her to seek validation from men who wanted her body…but not her babies. They settled for the baby because that kept her tied to them…at their convenience. When I started shining a light on this trauma tradition…my insight once again reminded her that we are not the same. She’s never had the courage to challenge the toxic behavior of her parents. So seeing her own child have that courage…on top of surpassing her in ‘accomplishments’…incited unwarranted jealousy.

When my mouth becomes a cotton field, and my heart feels like it’s trying to beat outside of my chest…that’s my mini me screaming that she knows what’s about to happen. That fear is her warning for me not to engage in the action she sees me about to take. Because she has been conditioned to believe that she’ll be (re)traumatized by the experience. Her trauma makes me sweat and her anxiety lets me know that she feels unsafe. When I choose to see that truth, she can then thank me for hearing her voice. Acknowledging this voice is the only way for me to heal my fear of being unheard. And acting in spite of that fear helps me show her that the story can be changed. This reinforces God’s overall lesson that everything I feel outside of me…is just a reflection of what I feel on the inside.

After some thought, I figured out it’s my belief that I’m not heard when I ask. I’ve also been conditioned to believe that even after I ask for what I want…I’ll then be crippled by thoughts of how I’ll subsequently be viewed for speaking up on my behalf. After exposing those roots…I slowly began tearing up its base by simply saying “Thank you for hearing me”…in response to my intrusive thoughts. I can’t control how my words will be received or how I’ll be viewed…but I can at least show appreciation for the opportunity to use my voice. That gratitude raises my vibration, which counteracts the vibrational descension that I now see my demons have been feeding off of.

My ‘family’ has learned to sprinkle in fake gotchas with real ones…so “I gotta keep it nice and breezy round this b****”. I asked for a screenshot of when she received the news. And…she sent it. I was wrong y’all…real wrong. She had just found out. After about 40 minutes of sitting in my ‘I’m not apologizing because they never do’ energy…I sent a text apologizing for assuming she was being petty. The apology wasn’t fully my decision though. God had to remind me that I report to Him. Which means an intentional offense to another…is cause for a ‘pop quiz’ from Him. So I rose to the level of ‘adult’ I needed to be at, in order to complete my task…and was shown why assuming the position of victim by default, is never the answer.

The men I dealt with sensed that delusion early on and they did to me…what I was doing to them: used me for their self-serving benefit. So when I saw the 50 parter…I wanted to scream that she needed to look into the mirror…instead of throwing her clone under the bus. Then, I realized that initial feeling of ‘offness’ was a result of seeing my accountability avoidant reflection…when I looked at her. Because a majority of this blog proves that I still possess the tendency of convenient truth telling about myself…while creating editorial exposès to tell inconvenient truths about others. Big backed audacity.

The gift I have requires me to use my voice to share it. But my experiences have left me too scared to speak. So my ‘Dad’ had me start a group chat, 4 years ago, including the same spirit(s) responsible for stealing my voice as a child. During this time, I ‘ve unknowingly been perfecting my ability to write. And if it hadn’t been for the determination of this spirit to silence me…I’d have nothing to write about. The journey to finding my voice allowed me to sharpen my gift, and I’m now able to articulate what I’ve learned. The forgiveness came in when God showed me that my unforgiveness, for what I felt was done to me, is altering my perception…which alters my ability to discern. That’s what silences my voice…not the actual spirit(s).

The first time I found out about my propensity to ‘make it rain’ was while watching The Green Mile. My mother took us all to the movies when it came out and I was the only one in our unit silently sobbing during 76% of it. I did my best to hide my tears because our ‘family’ doesn’t cry. But a rogue convulsion gave me away and I received a few eye rolls. Nevertheless…my tearful reactions require minimal motivation. I’ve gotten used to my reactions, but I have a tendency to throw off those who’ve never experienced my version of empathy.

Earlier today, I caught myself reminiscing about who we were to each other. That led me to glamorize our happier times and just like that, I was a big ball of emotional imbalance. Then I realized that even though I physically removed his presence, my soul is still tied to him. Because soul ties aren’t easily undone. Even with that knowing, I still judged myself harshly for still wanting him all these years later. But I now understand that I’m just feeling the same guilt I would…in an actual death. The kind that prompts you to think about what you could’ve done differently, if you put more emphasis on valuing the presence of the person who is no longer present.

Whenever I’d reach the point where my intuition left my BM’s true identity exposed, that dimple would allow her to create an ‘illness illusion’ that forced me to forget what she looked like with her mask off. This time there is too much proof that can’t be explained away by her trap house therapy sessions though. When I was a child, she was the only street pharmacist needed in these sessions. As an adult, she enlisted other make believe ‘shrinks’, to force feed me their own version of this ‘maternal medicine’. Judging from her ‘trauma twin’…that behavior is on brand.

In all actuality, all it does is incite more anger in those who desperately need guidance and direction. So after skillfully dodging the accountability that my ‘Dad’ actually wanted me to take for my own actions, I put it back on the boomers. Because what’s really shown from these exchanges, is that there are no consequences for bad behavior. And it would’ve never gotten this bad, if those put in charge of calling the plays…had the ability to use their voices when someone under their command…got ‘beside themselves’. Instead, they do what their parents did…allow life to teach lessons that they’re more than capable of giving. What a complete waste of wisdom.

I’ve spoken on ego deaths in previous posts. I’m in the process of my own as we read. But after watching that video, filled with words of wisdom, from someone who was supposed to be crippled by trauma…I realized that there are two types of ego deaths. One allows the unhealthy parts of our ego to die off in the privacy of our own homes (i.e. our mind)…and the other forces that death to be publicized for the whole community to see. My ‘Daddy’ gives us all the opportunity to experience that death in private. But when we ignore His kindness…He exposes our unwarranted pride on the big screen. How we choose to handle it from there, determines His next move.

This time…I went within. I can’t say if an irate reaction was their goal, but it definitely is a behavior they’ve come to expect from me. I’m sure a reason will eventually be given as to why this separation happened, again, and it’ll be one I can’t dispute because…it will make just enough sense to justify their actions. But the lesson in this is for me to deal with the unhealed fear I have surrounding a perceived loss…because that’s what drives my overreaction in these scenarios. The stories I have about the lengths I’ve gone to, in the past, to speak with these kids…would be a best seller all in itself. But as it stands now…God Himself will have to come down and tell me to be moved.

After feeling a sensation of fear creep up my spine earlier, I asked myself a question that catapulted me into faith. Question: What was the point of doing all this spiritual work, if you were just going to forget how much power comes with it? And the power that comes from working for God…is God. To this day, no one can touch who He has His hands on. So after my Spirit posed that question, I remembered that my fear tells God I don’t trust Him. That distrust prevents me from having the kind of relationship with Him that I desire and promotes more tough love obstacle courses. I’ve spent enough of my lifetime reinforcing the kind of fear that sucked the God given life out of me. I now choose to use fear in a way that serves me.

I reiterated the fact that buying the toy, and having our brief heart to heart, was my way of making up for not picking her up. Because my intention was never to hurt her. Then, I picked up on the overall lesson of this whole situation. My niece was attempting to hold me accountable with her attitude. By acknowledging my behavior and correcting hers…I was given the opportunity of showing her how it looks when someone assumes accountability for their actions. I took accountability for failing to show up for my niece in a way she expected me to. But in my failure…I was given the privilege of participating in her emotional growth. This is an honor…if I got it right.

Outside the presence of my niece, petty adults can engage in petty behavior. In her presence though, some level of decorum needs to be shown. I had my little sister conditioned to believe that she can get away with disrespect towards me…in front of her child. The realization that my niece is now in the preconditioning stages of this behavior scares me. And before I create another monster with my inability to lead with self-control…I decided to draw that line. I sent a text admonishing her nasty attitude and letting her know moving forward we should be cordial in front of my niece. There is no response as of yet…but underestimating her ability to catch me off guard…is still a thing.

This will be the final day of my chauffeur boundary though. I think the lesson has been learned. But today, the girls were upset. I was gaslit from start to finish and I remained out of my emotions, which once again exposed my ‘family’. Instead of holding my little sister accountable for going a year without resolving the issue that now has her dependent on my car…they chose to remind me how horrible my life must be, and how emotionally imbalanced I am. I wish I was embellishing. Midway through the day they all realized I wasn’t bending on my decision and my twin took it the hardest.

It’s taken me three days to open my laptop. My two previous attempts at seeing this project to completion, both ended like this. I always start up around November and never seem to make it past January. The triggers from my bloodline sparked my need to vomit my emotions in a way that didn’t lead me to a psych ward. And those same triggers were also the reason I gave up and turned into the unproductive version of myself…out of sheer emotional exhaustion. I said before that the majority of their triggers take place around the holidays. So by the end of January, I’m emotionally spent.