When you open up it’s like a chain reaction of truths and awakenings to new truth. Ah ha! Moments happen as you just tell it like it is without the edits. Editing is messy. Film everywhere. Snipe of this that belonged with that? Oh but that took to much away from this? Who are we?
A bunch of half story tellerS if we do like that?
Oh. Excuse me. Let me
Hide my trauma to ease yours. Yeah. That works.
What works is huge and validation and going there with someone. Even if it’s crazy. Maintain boundaries of conduct. Hit the pillow to get it out. Tell. Yell. Feel it. It trying to tell you something. Like me?
I was held in a position that has not lined up with my energy to learn. I don’t have to hold onto that energy. Just bless the energy and people who shared so I could learn.
I’m energy. Your energy. My Amal’s moves my dengue to protect my energy. Why do such a thing? What value did I have to Mama and to God for that matter that I must grow up hidden from view? Who is this body I live in?
Why so much fuss? Kill me? Try again? What was the big deal? Lawyers. Papers. Sealed to protect me? From whom?
Not my Mama I tell ya that? It’s as though a spell has been cast upon my family that denies them the ability to tell me why? Who I am to them. And why I am revived so hostily? Or received as hostile?
Guys. I can’t help what Mama Jean fed me. Over and over she said. Many of the thing I’ve said. Hard truths. Her hard truth is sad. Sad to live with and sad to help alleviate. She must want too and she does not.
Everything I’ve shared was her truth not mine about me? What I have shared about what she says is her truth. She said it? And owned it. She does not like Linda. But she raised me? And she can’t see herself in me? But she see me in my kids. Mama? Your the same? So? I see the win there girls. Lol.
I did better without you than with you. I see it. Yes. Do you? Can you still want to be a part of my life anyway since I love your ass? Mama Jean says no. What do you say? Auction this girl off here? I’m free Mama. I’m playing with ya.
Loosen up a bit. It’s ok. Do you think you can slot me in for some time? Coffee? Shopping? A walk? A call. Maybe letters? I rather just come see you though. I need a good hug from you for real.
Yes. We went back for a minute to cut some ties. And tie up the loose ends. Yes. I am that thorough. Mama Jean does not care what I say she told me. And people need to see the truth.
I am brave.