The little things (workout edition)

So it's been a while since I made a blog post and honestly I wasn't sure if this would be a Facebook status or what. As of today, I have been working out and switching up some food choices for about a little over a month. My total weight goal is to lose somewhere between 148-155 pounds. That seems like mountain. So I'm following some smart advice to break the large goal down.

Even with that, the journey of working out and changing lifestyles can be pretty rough ,daunting even. There has to be something to keep me going right? 1st let me say, I don't even know where the 1st 10 pounds fell off because I hadn't started actively or consistently working out, so I'll chalk it up to eating more fruit. Lol. I've lost a total of 18 pounds so far and I gotta keep going.

So what keeps me motivated, you ask? Hmm glad you did. It's the little things. Like I am ecstatic at a 2 pound loss. What I have found that keeps me going even when I'm sick, hurting or just lacking strong willpower are moments like:

1. Less struggle to button up or pull up jeans/shorts.(👏🏾)
2. When the camisole no longer stops at my stomach and roll up, but now resides at the top of my thighs and stays put!(🙌🏾)
3. Bending over to tie my shoes doesn't feel like I'm about to pass out(still working on it being 100% easy. The struggle is still there, its lighter tho😁)
4. Standing in the mirror and seeing the curvature making an appearance (not looking for a coke bottle shape, but defines curves, yes!)
5. Speaking of curves, I've never considered myself to have a butt, but that maxi dress Sunday showed the squats, weights and walking is working... can we say more curves? Why yes, yes I can 😂😂)
6. My cravings have changed
7. My mood is better
8. And when on the elliptical or spin bike, I don't feel like quitting within the 1st 2 minutes. (Stamina improving)
9. Oh oh oh my back isn't hurting so soon after starting an activity(walking was a problem for me at 1 point.
Lastly (didnt think I had 10 little things, but hey here it is)
10.Every week there has been some weight lost.

So if and when I get discouraged, I can look at some of these things and others to let me know I can do this and to keep going...

-Sacorsha 💜🦋😘

He loves me, he loves me not. I love me not, I love me

It's not always rainbows and butterflies
It's compromise that moves us along yeah
My heart is full, and my door's always open
You can come anytime you want yeah

I don't mind spendin' everyday
Out on your corner in the pourin' rain
Look for the girl with the broken smile
Ask her if she wants to stay awhile
And she will be loved, and she will be loved

Maroon 5- She will be loved

         I remember listening to this song on repeat wishing someone would see me, take the time to get to know me and then love me, like all the love songs I listened to. It took real life experiences, trial and error, mountain top and valley moments for me to understand fully that love for anything isn’t always rainbows and butterflies. It takes work, dedication, an awesome support system and even moments to take some steps back to evaluate and re-evaluate.

There is often a message in the music. One message I received was instead of wishing someone would accept you enough to love you, LOVE YOURSELF FIRST… Yeah love yourself. A concept that shouldn’t be hard at all, nevertheless for many, myself included it is a daunting task that requires practice. It’s easy to cater to others. It takes zero thought to compliment, encourage, give the benefit of the doubt, and speak to the spirit of another. You know treat others how you’d like to be treated, right? The issue was not receiving the same courtesy and then being mad about it. Having the “Harpo, what about me?” attitude because reciprocity was a lost element in the transactions.

I never thought I would be able to see, accept and love me separate from anyone’s opinions and actions. And yet here I am. For me, rejection at an early age, in hindsight stunted my proverbial self love growth. And yet for some odd reason, I still depended on, desired the love and validation to come from someone on the outside. Crazy I know.  Now don’t get me wrong, there were things I liked about myself, mostly the intangible items (good heart, being forgiving, being a good listener, etc.) If ever asked what I love about myself, especially physical aspects, the silence became deafening. Insert heartbreak, a different perspective, reactivating my no for others, introducing yes to myself and being tired of being tired.

People can tell you all the good things about you, but if you don’t believe it in your heart, then they are merely words. Someone could give me a compliment and the 1^st thing I would say is, yea, but and start listing EVERYTHING I didn’t like. That’s not a good place to be in. The journey to loving me began years with a vision board, prayer, going back to the basics and some time away. There is something pretty special when you see your goals and ideas on paper. There’s a reason we are instructed to write the vision and make it plan.  Friends and family gave suggestions and affirmations; I originally thought standing in the mirror looking at myself repeating affirmations wasn’t going to help or work. I’m glad I was wrong. Reminders of the obstacles I had gone through and survived gave me strength. I came to realize “I am fearfully and wonderfully made” isn’t just a line from the bible added as fluff. It is indeed the truth. The moment I decided to embrace my flaws, my quirks and everything that makes me, me, speaking on myself in the negative decreased. I began to believe in my heart all of the accolades I have been hearing and saying to myself. Belief is a powerful entity. Believing in yourself, in God, your abilities, your heart, your love, your process gives you strength to move forward. I didn’t believe I was beautiful. I didn’t believe I was lovable or worth loving.  I knew I had talent, but didn’t believe it mattered.

 You know what else comes with belief?  Positivity comes. Change comes. Confidence comes.  Matt Kemp said “when you think positive, good things will happen. What once had me frozen in one place, no longer has as much power over me. Impossible is now possible. I’ve taken a few more chances than before. If we allow ourselves to be doubtful and dead inside, there isn’t much hope that we will live our life in color outside. When your heart is no longer heavy and dark, your light can shine outwardly for all to see. You have to see it first. Feel and see your light and allow it to radiate.  Where there was doubt and fear, there is hope and faith. Where there was anxiety, there is peace. Where there was sadness, there is now happiness and laughter. Where there was rejection, there is acceptance. There will always be work that needs to be done, for now at this stage in life, I’m glad I can enjoy and recognize the journey versus stressing about the destination.

                                                                                                                   

So now when I am enjoying these nicely written love songs, I’m hopeful without regrets and not wishing that someone would feel that way about me. I enjoy the songs for what they are… Art. My heart is still full and open to give to others as before the difference is I’m not empty.  My door's always open to give some self love in addition to loving others. Guess what. I found the girl with the broken smile, stayed with her for a while and please believe now she is loved.

Sacorsha

"Untitled"

Can you be the one that got away if you're still standing still?
Can you truly grow if you won't allow yourself to heal?

Wishing the best for the next
when you're wrecked,
there's no checks no balance just... pain
It's okay to not be okay, but when will it stop raining.

Then again it's still.
Still like the night at 3 am. The time you wake to pray. The time designated to cleanse what you thought was gone, but it appears the residue remains to be something you can taste.

Can't get to the anger or the pride cause the hurt has been buried deep.
Lost deep in the brown eyes that long held tears but now break free from the levee involuntarily
Deep in a heart that longs to be loved but haven't quite learned to love itself.
Deep in the skin from within that remembers rejection vs acceptance
Deep in a mind that battles between what is, what was and what it's destined to be. What was said, what was learned and what's true.
Deep in a tongue whose speech varies between truth as it is; the lies that were told; because it doesn't know what to say or what to believe.
Deep in a spirit that is both wounded yet hopeful.

Hopeful that the sun will shine bright again naturally  without the falsehood.
Hopeful that seeds sown will reap a beautiful harvest
Hopeful that though bruised and battered, the heart will be whole again
Hopeful that a ray of sunshine will emerge from the clouds as they move
Hopeful that one day the story of brokenness will be replaced with a story of wholeness

Sacorsha  2018

"Will you wipe me clean? The question that rocked my core

I’ve sat down and tried writing about this for two weeks but to no avail. The tears always started to flow. So perhaps in this case the third time will be the charm. I don’t consider myself to be confrontational, nor do I think of myself as an activist. I definitely don’t like seeing other people being mistreated though. People would say I’m normally the peacemaker. I am queen of giving people the benefit of the doubt. Speaking up for myself is a rarity, which is changing as I continue to grow. I usually just brush things off or don’t recognize the severity of whatever encounter I experienced.  All of that changed February 17, 2018.

This day started like any other Saturday. I was awake early, mind racing, going through which bills needed to be paid, and preparing to celebrate my grandma’s 94^th birthday later that day; while really wanting to go back to sleep. It was forecasted to rain all day so I decided to use the 1^st part of the day as a lazy day, I had originally planned to go see Black Panther, but opted to wait. Eventually I left my apartment to run an errand or two. The rain was minimal to none at this point.  I reached my destination. As I entered, it sounded like a Justin Beiber song was playing over the loudspeaker. I entered the restroom and there was a middle aged Caucasian lady at the end of the sink washing her hands, she looked to be maybe 40+ years old. She noticed me and smiled and we both said good morning, I walked in further to go where the stalls were located. As I stepped to the area where the stalls were there was an older lady perhaps in her 60’s or 70’s maybe even 80s standing in the open space, forming what would be the beginning of a line. She was the only one there. Her face reminded me of the actress who portrayed the grown Rose from the movie Titanic, but with a darker aura, dark brown hair, and brown eyes. She was using those walkers with the seat and wheels on it to stand.  Ok moving on. The lady looked back, I’m assuming because she heard me speak to the other lady. Our eyes locked and I said good morning to her as well. She spoke and smiled, but at the same time she grabbed me by my arm. I pulled back. She reached again trying to grab my arm only to barely get her fingertips on the sleeve of my coat. She never stopped looking me in my eyes. The smirk/smile whatever you want to call it never left. She insisted that she needed to ask me something. I said ok, but stepped back so wasn’t touching me.

This lady said. “If I go into one of these stalls, will you wipe me clean?” Now again, I’m not confrontational. I don’t go around thinking people intentionally do me wrong. And above all I respect my elders, BUT THIS!!!!!! I was so caught off guard. The only thing I could muster was an emphatic “WHAT YOU SAY?” To which she repeated with an explanation:” I really have to go and someone is in the handicap stall, so if I use one of these stalls, will you help clean me, wipe me clean? This time only thing I said/asked was “didn’t someone come with you?” Before she could answer some other women came in and were questioning if there was a line. I said no, this lady is waiting on the handicap stall. The lady said “you’d think they would’ve had more than one. I said, “You’d think.” By this time the occupant of the handicap stall exited. The lady looked at me with the same smile and said “never mind” and walked away.

The more this replayed in my mind as I ran my errands, the more disturbed I was. The emotions I experienced that day and since have been all over the place. I really was caught off guard. Part of me wanted to ask did you ask the other lady to help you. Part of me felt a form of rage. Part of me felt like I was being punked. Part of me is still stunned.  I can’t say what anyone reading this may say or think of my reaction to this situation. All I know is my life at this time hasn’t been the same since. I don’t know what to call it.  I’m not a fan of labels and titles although I know they exist. I’m typically not a black vs white person and I don’t plan on starting to be.  What I don’t understand is how and why an old Caucasian lady felt it was okay to ask anyone, me, a stranger, African American no less, to wipe her clean. As I sit here, tears flowing again, 2 weeks later, have no idea where to go from here. What do I do about these feelings? And how do I continue to live my life, as complicated as it has been, in the process of being renewed, without side-eying every comment, every action, every insinuation, every nuance because of my 1^st conscious encounter with what some would say was racism or a form of it or perhaps it was just ignorance?

A BALL OF CAN

A few weeks ago, I was talking to my mom and she was sharing some moments about my 10 month old nephew. You know that’s one of the fun times. He’s crawling, pulling up, and noticing items and grabbing for them (ex: The Christmas tree). She said she started to deter him by saying, “no Jordan.” (Side note: he gives her this look when she tells him no.) J  This moment reminded her of when I was little. Apparently I heard the word no often and got tired of it and proclaimed “no, no, no ALLLL the time.” (Mental note: I can hear myself saying this.) LOL!!

Well this conversation played back in my mind like a funny month old joke that came back to you and the laugh is just as hard as when it was originally told. Most of my memories involve me being told no. Or being told what I can’t do or shouldn’t try.  There were doctors saying my body was a noodle and muscles weren’t anywhere near developed so I could look forward to a life of no activity or little activity at best. I’ve experienced classmates laugh at me when I attempted to sing, do a particular cheerleading move, dance, or whatever. I’ve even been told no man would want to be with me nor marry someone with physical defects like mine. (FYI I’m missing a knuckle on my ring finger left hand). Most importantly, I’ve told myself numerous times no or I can’t. I mean after hearing, no so many times, I supposed I just bought into that, embraced the rejection and fear both subconsciously and intentionally until self sabotage and doubt became natural.

Thinking about the growth process of a child, we look forward to them being born, then crawling, walking, talking, etc. What we don’t realize is in order for the toddler, child to learn they have to explore. Falling down and getting up is a part of the process of growth and discovery. Although, no is the initial reaction and response for understandable reasons (safety being #1), hearing no can have adverse reactions. For me, every no regardless from whom, didn’t serve as motivation; it dampened my spirit, my hope, my faith. Well fast forward to realizing the problem, discovering the solution(s), and doing the work (it’s ongoing). Affirmations may seem a tad bit weird at first but let me tell you, THEY WORK!! Scriptures, THEY WORK!!! I mean I knew that, but the meaning and understanding changes as you get older.

Just like my nephew will get into more on his road to discovery, growing up and learning to walk because he isn’t going to stop trying, I too will keep trying. I am learning to rediscover me. What do I like, not like, what makes me happy and truly appreciate myself minus all the outside noise.  One of my teachers used to say “nothing beats a failure but a try.” I have some victories under my belt and they helped me realize that I CAN! I wrote and published a book. I’ve successfully completed college and received degrees.  I can do all things through Christ, who strengthens me. I can write whatever I want and learn from it. I can be uniquely me and love the skin I’m in. I can hear someone’s opinion and not let it completely deter me. I can love myself enough to take some self care time as well as share my gifts, presence and words of encouragement with others.  I may not be exactly where I thought I’d be, but knowing I am a big ball of can and put this can into action will essentially help me to get there. And I plan on enjoying the journey and not fixate on the destination.

Until next time,

Sacorsha J

WHEN CHURCH HURT CAUSES A GROWTH SPURT

There’s never a battle, where there isn’t a promise.” – Toure Roberts

As I was listening to a service of One Church LA online (www.onechurchla.org), PT as they call him made this statement. It has stood out to me every since. The more I think about it, there is an insurmountable amount of truth to it, which brought me to thinking about myself, others and the state of “the church.”  Church hurt becomes a spiritual battle that distracts us or prolongs us from fulfilling and walking in the promise of God. As long as we’re quiet, the promise is too.

Church hurt has many definitions depending on who you ask. For me, church hurt includes the hurtful, devastating comments, actions or lack thereof that comes from people who we expected to do and/or say otherwise. I mean church people, Christians are supposed to encourage you right? A lot of times I think church hurt has a lot to do with expectations being shattered. Ego vs Truth. Pride vs Humility. Feelings vs Fact. Spirit vs Tradition.

We grow up being told about God and church and Jesus, etc in the most positive enlightening ways. We are quoted scripture such as where the spirit of the Lord is there is liberty. Meaning if God’s spirit is present there SHOULD be freedom. Freedom to praise, speak, sing, you know freedom. Quick question though: IF the spirit is present, why are we doing anything? Now don’t get me wrong. I’m not talking about the ones who aren’t dancers, or screamers, there may be some that are criers.. I get that. I’m talking about the ones who we know do certain things, have gifts, talents and expertise, but are not operating in them. Yes they are free to do nothing or do something. Here’s something I’m willing to consider: what if a person’s inability to be free is and has been stifled by church hurt? The good news is the hurt doesn’t have to be in vain!! Growth can come from the hurt

 STAINS FROM MY WINDOWPANE (church hurt)

Growing up I loved going to church. I loved learning. I enjoyed the singing. I got a chance to see my friends and play. I felt at home and accepted at church unlike school or other places. The experiences cultivated a desire to know more about this God I’d been learning about, plus I was a living testimony of what God could do. Some would say I was an old soul. I soaked up all that was being taught, said, sang about, preached and truly enjoyed this acceptance.

I remember one of my 1^st introductions to church hurt was at 7 years old. I would sing solos or songs and cry during. Some thought the tears were evidence of being scared; others may have commented that I didn’t know what I was singing about. I knew though. I knew the words that came out of my mouth meant something. They touched me from the inside out. I was as if God was using my own voice to speak to myself and others. Love was in those words. I felt that way about music in general. They said what I didn’t hear from those I wanted to hear it from. Music has always accepted me. But I digress, back to church hurt. So because I understood enough about how good God was in general and to me, at the age of 7 I decided I wanted to be baptized. I told my pastor and my mom. The conversations were had and one Sunday I felt it again. Today was the day. So I proceeded to begin to walk up to the front of the church when the invitation was given only to be met with a firm “go sit down, we don’t walk during this time.” Yes, good ole ushers doing their job, right. Attempt #2 occurred the following Sunday, the choir’s singing was spirit filled, I’m sure I shed some tears in between drawing in the bulletin, the sermon was good, the begins singing again, everyone is standing and pastor opens the doors of the church as usual inviting those who want to be baptized or join the church to come forward. I put my book and bulletin down, crossed over a few people, and walked down one side of the pews towards the back, start to head to the middle aisle, then BAM the usher grabbed my arm, told me I knew better than to be walking or trying to go out of the sanctuary while the preacher was talking. I looked at her and started to say something but before anything could come out, she politely turned me around and said go sit down. I was so hurt and disappointed because I really wanted this, and she wouldn’t listen to me. Like how you gonna keep me from my Jesus right? My 7 year old mind could not fathom what or why this lady wouldn’t let me go get baptized.. 
Attempt #3, will the 3^rd time be the charm? Same scenario, following week. I walked to the back and I had determined that this was going to be the day no matter what. The usher was doing her job on one hand and failing in the walk tremendously on the other. Anyway, I took the same walk, got disrupted by the same hands and voice except this time, it was on the front side of the church and not the back. Like she came off the door and met me at the corner of the front pew. SMH.. I told her I was coming to the front to be baptized, she told me I wasn’t old enough and didn’t understand and yes once again said “go sit down.” Well there is some stubbornness in me and I knew what I felt and wanted to be a part of God’s family, therefore I went to my pew, looked back at the usher, and kept walking all the way around to the other side of the church. Now the usher on the other side thought I needed to go to the restroom and beckoned for me to come on, but I did that quick left turn and found myself in front of the pastor. HALLELUJAH I made it. FINALLY. 3^rd time is the charm.

I can laugh about it now, but the journey it took for me to get baptized is the same journey we must take in every aspect in life. Honestly, most of my hurt from the church has been people saying what I couldn’t do, shouldn’t do, not understanding me or accepting me for who I am created to be. I’ve been told I can’t sing and shouldn’t. I have seen the eye rolls, the deep breaths and people walk out. People have had the audacity to say to my face and behind my back that “it don’t take all of that.” That one has no age limit; at both young and older age I’ve been told it doesn’t all that. My exclaiming hallelujah, doesn’t take all that. Yes it’s usually loud, but aren’t we instructed to make a joyful noise? I’m too young to preach. But wasn’t Jesus about his father’s business at the tender age of like 12? I am NOT proclaiming to be anywhere remotely to that level at that time, but I’m just saying. Oh and don’t someone ask me to say anything especially pray. That’s like a kid ready to eat, but the parents have to talk to everybody after church. Lol. Things I’ve heard: 1) oh god. 2) here we go 3) don’t take all day 4) make it quick 5) can’t we get someone else?

The God I grew to love and know was indeed with me from my mother’s womb. Then battle for me began before I took my first breath. My mom contracted Rubella (German Measles) while carrying me and as a result I was affected. I came into the world silent, not even a cry when the doctor spanked me on my bottom. I was born with crossed eyes, missing a knuckle, and had extremely weak muscles among other things. The prognosis given to my mom was that I would be mildly retarded and would not be able to walk without assistance and I would be underdeveloped. So if I wanted to shout, scream, cry, yell hallelujah at 7 years old and up so be it!!! Because all that was stated wasn’t happening anymore. I was skinny, tall, glasses wearing little girl with a deformity that didn’t get attention until later in life when someone noticed it.

There comes a time when the smiles on the outside are covering up the tears on the inside. More reasons for me to wonder why. What did I do? The place I felt accepted was slowly beginning to look like the other places. There comes a time when one has to reconcile and find balance in what the Word says as opposed to others. I mean Christianity and being a believer is an individual relationship that you share with others. As I continued to experience church hurt, I also was growing at the same time. Learning that God’s love and purpose overrides the other stuff. I had to exercise my faith, trust the words that I was reading in the bible, let the words my mom and others spoke into my life take root and walk in it. I was fine by myself. I believed in me when it came to church. Until the need to be accepted and love entered into the picture. My identity began to be dependent on others and their words. When we become dependent on others and seek validation, we lose our voice, our independence, our opinion of self, we relinquish our power. We lose our mind and take on theirs. The lesson of hearing God’s voice and believing it based on God’s record versus letting the negative Nancy’s and Nathan’s words manifest in your life happen in the hurt. The hurt shows you how strong you are. The hurt is a feeling that you will remember just enough to motivate you to do whatever you have to (in a healthy way) in order to not feel it again. It (hurt) also allows you to recognize it in others so you can guide them through it.

Church hurt wounded me to the point of low self-esteem returning; doubt crept back in; my faith wavered and my ability to balance diminished. I know longer sang aloud, or should I say lead a song. I was the background shawty. I started saying I didn’t know song words, or forgot them. I came up with every excuse. I would go where I was semi-accepted and that still didn’t feel right. I learned quickly that being fake, fake stuff breaks you. I couldn’t learn or grow in the midst of ‘yes men & women;” My not living in my potential was making my spirit weak. My pretending was breaking me daily. When I got baptized, I did so to be a part of God’s family, not church. I took on the appearance and actions of the people I wanted to be accepted by not realizing I had all the power to begin with and it was slowly leaving me. What really gets me is I now listen to or watch the same people who talked bad about me walk and work in the purpose that God has for them when I was already there and now I’m struggling to reclaim and remember whose and who I am. The roles apparently were reversed. Oh the irony. I wouldn’t wish any hope but especially church hurt on anyone. But when if and when it happens, I am here to say there is HOPE.

THE SUN SHINES THROUGH (growth spurt)

1. Survival necessitates moving on.

In order to grow as a person and a believer we must move on. That means forgive yourself and others. Recognize that we are all people trying our best to be better, to do better. We have 2 major things we are asked to do. 1. Love God with all your heart and 2. Love your neighbor as yourself. If we spent half our time doing these very things, I am crazy to believe that church hurt wouldn’t be such a factor. I know from experience that loving yourself can be quite the obstacle. But no matter what offenses you’ve done. Regardless of the abortions, wrecks, people killed via your words, tickets you may have gotten, anything you feel are the worst of the worst it is imperative that you find a way to love yourself again. God loves you and believes you are worth it. Your life is worth sharing with the world. Your words are important will speak life into someone who currently think their absence is better than their presence. I don’t want to inflict hurt on myself, therefore my goal in life isn’t to hurt others. We survive this thing called life when we move on. Move forward seeking, walking to and living our purpose and destiny.

1. Be Purpose/Destiny Driven

There comes a time where you recognize your purpose/destiny is extremely more important than the past. Stop feeding the past. Stop holding on to the past, yours and others. We are ever growing, ever evolving. Let me tell you something, for every person who have said I can’t sing and need to be quiet, 3 more are saying you really blessed me today. I love your spirit. I feel God when you sing. I would be doing God and myself a disservice if I continued to be quiet.  I may be long winded when I pray, sing, testify, write, etc. It’s because I have things to say. I know I didn’t do it in my own strength. Yolanda Adams said it “while riding through the storms, Jesus holds us in His arms.” We are covered, by the one who loves us. When we are doing what God designed us to do, we’re good, and we don’t have to worry because He got our backs. 

1. Prayer, praise and worship

I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. –Philippians 4:13

We gain strength through conversation and fellowship. I pray daily and sometimes multiple times a day for strength, guidance, recognition and thanks. I’m learning to listen more to and for his voice. I spend time with others to share in this love of God that I have and it helps to see that I’m not alone. It’s encouraging to see that someone who has gone through what I am currently experiencing is still in the fight and have peace about it. There’s no testimony without a test. Yes it’s cliché but true.

My life experiences, lessons of my own and others, truly learning and knowing who God is in every aspect of my life as an individual and as a part of a community have helped heal me from church hurt and understand it with a fresh set of eyes. I’m still evolving and growing. I reached a low place that I have never been and standing on my truth, God’s love and acceptance and a few people that have been placed in my life for such a time as this have made me richer, more grateful. I am learning to love all of me unconditionally and you know what? I like her. I love my flaws and all. This growth spurt can be difficult, there are things you may not understand right away, people may leave or look at you strange, but my earlier experiences with church hurt have taught me how to handle it..

These days I own my raspy voice that cracks from time to time. The cracks from dryness sometimes, and emotion piercing through because I know who I am singing for and why. I am writing more from a truthful place and each time I feel a little more weight being lifted. Church hurt will have you thinking you are better out in the world, being a chameleon in order to fit in. I am here to tell you, you are better out in the world being your true authentic self, who God created you to be, letting your light shine 1^st on yourself as it radiates out to others. Yes by all means go to church, and praise God because you want, need to and are appreciative for the new mercies given you and loving you unconditionally. While you’re at it use the gifts that he granted you wherever you go. You are uniquely you. Live life, love life doing what you can, when you can, the best you can.

Sacorsha

The effects of loving a disappearing father

Them: you’ll never amount to anything.

You: I’m going to school to get my degree.

Them: why are you wearing that? You look like you should be on somebody’s corner.

You: I thought this looked nice; it goes with my skin tone.

Them: Nobody is going to want to date you; definitely not marry you.

You: That’s not true.

Them: I’m so sick of you always gone; always on your computer; and you stay going to your mother’s house. You never have time for me.

These are comments or variations of comments that many people hear daily. At first glance, we can assume that this scenario is between people in a love relationship. They are subtle statements that if consistently made over time can and will eat away at someone’s self-esteem, confidence, heart, faith in love and spirit.  

We don’t like to see our friends and loved ones going through this type of hurt; therefore we become advocates, we ask and plead for them to stand up for themselves, get out of that situation. We become the cheerleaders and encouragers letting them know that they are beautiful, handsome, they are smart, kind, and we even stick around inviting them out or simply to be there to listen and be the shoulder to cry on. These reminders are specks of light shining on the darkness of our friend, loved one. We pray they hear what we are saying and not the person they are in a relationship with. The proof that good overcomes evil; that your words of love and appreciation have fallen on good ground is when that person regains confidence and start showing signs of happiness and peace as well as leaving the abusive relationship altogether.

But what do you do when the verbal attacks and emotional rollercoaster comes from a parent? What do you do when someone who helped bring you into the world, fails to see you for the blessing that you are, whose actions don’t always match their words? How do you handle them loving you to their capability when you are worth and require so much more? Is there a way to remain true to yourself, to keep your peace, to rebuild your foundation to fit your reality, while honoring your parent? These have been questions I’ve asked myself numerous times.

 My answer: You tell them how you feel. You hold on to your truth while loving yourself. You see them as a person, while continuing to love them. You resolve in your heart to accept the situation for what it is and govern yourself accordingly. It is essential to your growth that you reconcile what your circumstance, your reality is and what it means and how it looks. And lastly, you surround yourself with people who see, know, recognize, understand and love you.

It took me some time to get to this point. I have debated and wondered if I should even write my thoughts out. I mean it hurts. It hurts to the point where I have many incomplete poems and songs from trying to get my feelings out, but if something doesn’t leave you, it would behoove you to try again. So here I am, filled with mixed emotions because I love my dad, but don’t like the way things are. I love my dad, but I love myself more. The loving myself more part is a process, but I’m getting better at it. If I was being honest, I am still leery, slightly afraid, yet when you know better, you do better and I’ve learned that keeping things inside isn’t healthy nor does it help.

STAINS ON MY WINDOWPANE

Now my dad has been in and out for the majority of my life basically because he moved to another state. I grew up watching my friends have father, daughter interactions and no they weren’t perfect, yet their presence was there. If they needed them, their fathers were there. I’ve never had that relationship with my dad. Our conversations have literally been surface and even today it’s the same. I get a “hey how you doing” to a list of questions asking about everyone else. Yes he would say some things that resembled a hint of positivity and proudness such as graduating from high school or when I got my 1^st car. Overall, the feelings I have received from him have been I didn’t quite matter more than other people or things. I can remember when he would send money to my brothers and I, they would get more money than me. I asked for some British Knights (telling me age) lol when they first came out. Let’s just say, I got them way after they were old and out of style. Now some may say so what; but this can serve as the foundation of me being introduced to and consistently absorbing the feeling of being pushed aside, of not being important and accepting it. Things like this nurtured my familiarity of listening to words, birthing high hopes which were not all the time but often followed with more than a sensation of being let down. His promises preceded my accepting this behavior from others such as friends, other family members and eventually people I dated. Missed birthdays, few phone calls and surface conversations, let down, being blamed for things, and fussed at for things instead of being talked to and wondering why infiltrated into most areas of my life. Yes, I had people in my life saying good, positive things. Encouraging me to be myself and telling me what makes me beautiful and for the most part I believed it. But there continued to be something missing. I can’t recall my dad calling me beautiful. He may have shown some pride in who I was by saying “that’s my daughter” in the context of specifying who I was. I hear it also when I pull up to a relative house (there’s my daughter.. what is my daughter doing?) My relationship with my dad is one of the reasons I don’t like labels and titles. The labels exist, but if the actions and effort behind it doesn’t carry the same weight then what’s the point? I can’t in good conscious ask you to depend on me and yet prove that you can’t depend on me. Honestly, this disconnect has given me pause for so long even though I couldn’t bring myself to give up on the hope of it all. And I’ll admit there were times when I recognized that I could have done more despite feeling like the adult in this situation. So in classic Sacorsha form, I pushed my feelings to the side, became the bigger person and called more even if it was just to say hello. I called him a week, a day and the day of my birthday so he could tell me happy birthday. At some point the weight of it all became too much. I mean I had classmates and family members calling me ugly. I’ve had my thoughts and opinions being overlooked. I endured being belittled, bullied and embarrassed and more… I had my mom saying I could do whatever I put my mind to. I was beautiful and should act like it, walk like it and own it.. One lone voice pushing me forward versus thousands tearing me down and all I can subconsciously consider was if my father, the one who was supposed to be there for me, treat me like a princess, prepare me for the world and these knuckleheads was the 1^st to say what I heard often. So if he felt and treated me that way, it had to be true right?

THE SUN SHINES THROUGH

Today I can say an affirmative NO! I am imperfectly perfect. Born with many defects with only one being visible, well I should say it’s hidden in plain sight. LOL. I guess you can say I expected him to be what he couldn’t be. This isn’t to drag him because like I said, I believes he loves me on a level that he has, his capacity. There are so many facets and experiences that played and continue to play a role in my downfall, my growth and evolution. I got drastically sick a few times and started writing my feelings; I would sing and tears would fall. At some point I started to believe my mom, the friends who poured into me. I know I’m a good person, I believe and say more these days that I’m beautiful. I had to stop talking down about myself and let my light shine for real. I deserve reciprocity. What I need and require is to be uplifted. I am a work in progress and will always be. What I desire and yearn for is peace, true happiness within myself, constructive criticism and a place where I can thrive and not hide. I’ve been dealing with the double dutch of emotions, wishing, hoping, and getting a glance of what could have been, having the rug pulled from under me, the begging and pleading to be seen, to be loved, to be accepted, for 37 years. There comes a time in your life where you recognize people for who they are, parents included, humans living their life, trying to get it right. Just like I would have loved the pats on the back, the verbal validation, they also should receive it too. I love my dad. I appreciate my dad. I will always respect my dad, I am thankful for a father who did what he could and continues to try. I’m thankful for the unspoken lessons he has provided me with that I will carry with me always. I am thankful for the willingness to forgive and be forgiven. I am thankful for the tears of the past, present and future. I am thankful that I am successful, I am loved, I am creative. I am thankful and can appreciate the times I have had my heartbroken by those who broke it my father included (males, female, family, friends, foe). It may not feel like it all the time, but I am better for it. I have no idea where the road will take me, but I am confident that the sun will continue to shine through the stains on my windowpane.

-Sacorsha