I know men don’t like digging into their emotions. But the fact that they don’t like it, only adds to the amount of emotionally unavailable men walking this Earth. And they’re only emotionally unavailable because…no one has shown them how to access their emotions. The issue is…the same is true for most women. So we get in relationships with people who we’re sexually attracted to, play games until one person wants out, and then we move on without realizing that we’re just going to attract the same person in another body. Because the real lesson is to learn more about who we are…through who we’ve been attracting.

After dropping off my niece, my little sister advised how dumb I was to keep texting a chat that included our BM because…she has me blocked. Full Disclosure: Feeling unheard by my mother is usually an instantaneous trigger that lands me back in the group chat hoping to validate my inner child feeling unseen. But I worked through my emotions when I got home by doing Yoga and diving under the foot of influence. I sent a ‘nanny nanny boo boo’ type text to the smaller chat, apologizing to The Band of Broomhilda’s for their inability to summon a ‘manic’ episode out of me.

Before her exit, I used their trump card and declared my ‘bipolarism’ as the reason for my sudden change in desire to over give. According to the mental health link my twin has consistently sent in the group chats over the years…I’m at the will of my ‘disease’. Back then she used it to discount the truth I was speaking. Now, after claiming the side effects of my ‘disorder’, I was told that I knew “exactly what I was doing”. Tough crowd. I became enraged at the response and started vomiting truth.

I honestly have no idea why my face continues to be played in. I know I’ve gone back on my word a million times and…I rarely ever keep up a boundary set to prevent the ‘face play’. But I’m still very much confused on why certain people don’t just stop while they’re ahead. It’s like pushing me past the point of no return is their mission…even though I’ve shown, in the past, how toxic I become once I reach that place. Truthfully speaking, my reactions are always short lived and I immediately go back to overlooking their trigger attempts…until my next explosion. So I guess they’re just playing their assigned roles.

I wish this was the first time a woman has seen me with my niece, assumed I was a mother…and exhibited the same behavior. Truthfully speaking, it’s happened with women of all colors. It’s like my niece gives me the ability to tap into the world of openly toxic mothers and it feels so familiar that it makes me uncomfortable. I grew up with my own BM rushing to tell any business of my siblings and I…that showed us in a negative light. And she’d cackle on the phone with other emotionally insensitive mothers because apparently punching down on your kids is a part of their job description. I can not say that this is all mothers…but most children…turned adults, who’ve gravitated to this blog… can name at least one shared experience. So there’s that.

I’m no stranger to being humbled. At this point, I figure it’s how God shows me He loves me. The amount of opportunity He’s given me to feel this taser shock of humility…can’t possibly be for any other reason. I used to fight against it, but now I’m doing my best to find the hidden lesson in each emotional assault missile sent in my direction. So I no longer run around in circles, trying to avoid being hit now. And it’s saved me from doing a lot of unnecessary exercise.

I needed these last four years more than anything I’ve ever needed in life. Because weighing the behavior of my ‘misguiders’ against my own…put my behavior into perspective. I was a big part of MY problem. But more than that, I started to see that these same people were pushing my detonation device purposely. This last week has been more of the same. I spoke about the last text that I sent the group chat. But I left out that I threatened them with a ‘manic’ episode…if they didn’t get their s*** together.

And the overwhelming unreasonable response I’ve received over the years, is the suggestion for me to ‘mind my own business’. I simply can not. I’ve a hard time understanding what that phrase even means…when I consider it from the viewpoint of my ‘family’. Because they are my business. The kids who don’t have a voice that the adults will listen to, can’t speak up on their own behalf. And I was fortunate enough to go through the same trauma I’m trying to prevent them from experiencing. So why not use my voice? But most people prefer to stay quiet because speaking up comes with a lot of unwanted backlash. Which is why generational curses are so hard to break. They thrive in the silence of others.

He (God) pointed out how she found something to be happy about in those moments…and how she didn’t allow what was going on around her to change her mood. I quickly came up with a rebuttal, detailing how she shouldn’t have to search for her happy place at such a young age. I was then advised that if she doesn’t learn how to do it now…she won’t know how valuable it is as she gets older.

I won’t pretend like my BD was the worst straw that could’ve been pulled though because…he stuck around. He was the first man who ever told me I was beautiful. And for the majority of my life…I was a daddy’s girl. When I became an adult and unknowingly attracted men with his personality type, I never understood my reasoning for taking so long to leave those relationships. Because they never served me. Now I understand it’s because they felt too familiar to leave. Women truly do attract their fathers…the good aspects and the bad.

I now understand the convenience a child brings for some men, who want the option of keeping a certain female in their life. Vice versa. I, however, was a psychotic lunatic all throughout both of those long(ish) term relationships. So I had no idea why I was ever considered for the position of mother. After my healing began…I realized their reasoning stemmed from abandonment issues. Both men had unhealthy relationships with their mothers that left them feeling emotionally and physically discarded on some level. But like most people, acknowledging that is unheard of.

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.