Ok. Let’s talk about growing up being me. Me is: Stephanie Anne Brumley, now called Belinda Jean, who was born from a very strong personality person, named Linda Marie. Oh, I am my Mamas daughter for sure. Because you see how Mama has been reacting to me? Yeah. Blocked me! That’s how I felt growing up. Blocked. I felt all blocked up in so many ways because I was nothing like Mama Jean. Mama? I can see myself there. But, to see myself in another was a tall order and I worked hard to find myself.
I was not there at first. But I was sent to build it. Or that’s what I figured Mama wanted. Make her love me through you is what I felt. And it was not easy. We are quite different. But I bout that damn bridge. And want Mama to walk over it. She’s loved here too. I made sure of it.
I love cooking and collect kitchen gadgets. I love working with good knives. And love a good kitchen, like Mama has. I bleach everything! I soak myself in epsom salt bathes. I love animals and nature. I love the night sky at Mamas place. It’s peaceful there. I love flowers and dry creek beds. I enjoy a good cus word spoken in truth, and dislike guile. I love my babies who grew up on me. Inspect there life choices and accept all conditions of how they came to those choices.
My children are free to be who they wish to see in this world and I am amazed to be able to watch them work their magic into this world of possibility. They truly shine and don’t take any shit that’s not theirs , not even from me. Clap clap. Lesson over.
But I am not all about shit. No. I am about getting shit out of the way so folks can be who we all aspire to be in this world and not stay stagnant and struck with yesterday looming. Evidently we all had some shit. And we all do. Emotional shit gets stuck too. And old feelings linger after years go by and dust accumulates over yesterday’s emotions. I came home to clean that dust off, set Mama straight, and spending some time really getting to know her. And her getting to know herself in me.
I figured she would be dying to hear my stories about her with me all those years. I figured she’d want to hear how I did it? How I held onto her like I did. How I found her? And how I knew all I knew about her, so much so that I mimic her to her and it’s so accurate it’s spooky. It kind of freaks me out when I hear your voice and phrasing come out of my mouth? Sounds like she’s behind me and yet even weirder that it come out of my mouth?
Being Adopted and finding your Mama is such a wild ride. But it beats riding without here. I encourage anyone who dares, get ready and speak the truth. It’s the only way. I grew up as Linda’s little ambassador, cuz God marked me hard. My mannerisms got me into trouble. I had to work in that. Oh my. Mama Jean worked her ass of helping me. Thank you Mama J.
So. This is not about anyone digging anyone. This is about accurately retelling a jumbled up mess of a story, then teaching y’all about how I got there? Cuz I am a out if I am telling ya about it aren’t I? But Your just now getting the 411 about me. What’s your 411?
Mama Was the first woman I knew. I knew her. She made a deep imprint on me. I felt it growing up and yet did not express it due to feeling like I had to play some quiet game and wait my turn to speak. That was Mama Jeans way if getting me to be quiet and not speak and she told me that when we went on trips which really hurt my feelings and made me wonder why I Was there at all? I mean really. I felt like a prop. Linda in me did too. Huey, kept me strong.
Mama and Daddy, the ones God made me with, came everywhere with me growing up until the divorce. I packed them away in my mind, I tried not to notice them as a teen. But as I think back about it, I knew they were there for me and loved me deeply. Beyond words and physical touch, I felt there presence with me. I think it was a gift from God. His grace I guess. Thanks lord. Thanks universe.
Living a life like this has many challenges I have had to overcome to survive. My parents in me is one way I coped. I feel everyone does it and draws from their parents and their memories of them for strength. So. I am normal as an orphaned woman. And have coped with grief and loss as well as a child who was denied such luxuries as psychiatric help to get through loosing her Mama to find her again. I’m doing quite well and am quite grateful that I chose to follow God for the help I needed.
Which the help God showed me I needed was Mama outside of me. I miss her. Geez. I feel she feels the same as me and that this needed to go. And that she did not know how to clear the air between us. Power tools!! Big, truthful, power tools! From God. To bust this up and change the air around here. Spruce things up. Blow the dust off. I do love that leaf blower!
Mamas like, doing this and doing that. And busy busy busy, and I’m over here like waving my arms!! Mama! It’s been 55 years, can I come home yet? Is it time yet? We could do all that together? I love doing stuff for God? Like what gives? I am telling you, I would love an invite to come visit and maybe bake some shit. Ok? It’s like what’s up? Is there a cloud over my head or something? I know I am not hating on Mama. I don’t like how she thinking? But a good cup of tea and long conversation with Kleenex can fix that up in an jiffy? And a good bowl of soup with crusty bread and real butter. That’s what always helps.
Am I dreaming? Damn right I am dreaming up a new day with Mama. Where she can just be ok with it all. I roughed up her sore spots and poked all the pimples no one wanted to touch. I blew out her brain with truth and connected the dots and removed all the blobs on her eyes that kept her from seeing how amazing she was for me, within me.
She was and is my strength, my focal Point that God gave for me to focus on. God marked me to focus on my Mamas. They were key to me surviving. Fathers too. But Mothers first.
And cusing is not bad when your truthful. I feel name calling is low. God sees what we mean whether we say it for real or hide it with another word like piffle. We judge our words. Truth adds flavor and helps us preserve our authenticity. Our bodies are made from dust. We must allow the body to be as it is and work with it and not damn it. Grace covers all.
This is a major download. It’s like pouring in my brain and flowing out here. So surreal. It’s like I broke free from the old Energy. It’s like the pain is subsiding. It’s like the pull is loosened. Relaxed. Wow. It’s like God’s in my brain.
I’m really glad we can speak honestly these days and not feel crazy for being so close to the creator. Or being sent away for it. I am glad I am ordained. Thank you lord for training me yourself. I do see why. I am grateful Mama Jean never met Mama. She didn’t have a clue, but you did. I am so grateful for your grace on me.
Thanks for sing deep with me today.
I don’t go back and read these, so yeah.
I just write what comes.
Stay connected to source and always aware that you are part of this whole. Xo. You matter.