If the life and death of Nipsey Hussle touched your life, read this.Read More
My Peace Lily was really sad and none of her stems were upright. It looked as if she wasn't going to make it. I brought her up to my room and started talking to her, touching and giving her sips of water. At 3 this morning I couldn't sleep. I begin praying asking God to help me understand that the dreams, goals and desires I have are worth it.Read More
When you think about weight the first thing that may come to mind is physical weight. What about mental, spiritual and emotional weight?
In my 38 years young of life I have experienced weight at an alarming rate in all areas.
At what age does one start picking up the weight I asked myself. I am an empath, and I started picking up weight without even realizing it at a very young age.
Take a look at me the young girl who was as young as 4 years old hearing the whispers of adults talking back and forth about her mother whom she loved dearly that she was playing games about the paternity of my father. It was the whispers and the joy of judgment in their voices although they all knew exactly who my father was. It was there that I picked up a little weight in my spirit, mind, and soul from the heaviness of gossip. It was there that I lost a sense of my identity before I truly knew who I was and I couldn't say a thing and when I would ask my mother she would tell me exactly who my father was. She would tell me her sisters were making up stories, and she would say it in a cold and frustrated tone. I never knew why she was mad at me when I asked her as I was only 4 years old and my father was M.I.A. Although my brother and I had the same father, my father’s family welcomed him and my older sister with open arms paired with all the love. I, on the other hand, got the stares of disapproval and again there is more weight. Not only did I lose a sense of my identity but now I was looking for approval from the ones that should have loved and liked me by default. Now I had my mother who I loved, and she was hurt from her childhood as well, although I did not know that back then. She never knew how to articulate her pain. My mother would constantly tell me to forget what the others were saying and that I was hers. I stayed up under my mother. I would grow up to find out that my mother did play games with other men claiming I was theirs even though she and my father knew. My father did come around, and he would answer the question he knew was plaguing me.“You are mine.", he would say. I looked just like him after all. But my deep rejected blurred the mirror for me. It was the comments of others that still weighed heavy on my soul. It was the lack of attention from family members on both sides. I was the youngest of three. It seemed as if my sister and brother got the affection that I craved. I always felt a sense I did not belong.
When I turned eight, I finally met the other 2 children that my father had who was younger than me. They accepted my brother who was the oldest because their mother accepted him; however, she couldn’t stand me because my father was sleeping with her and my mother at the same time and therefore my sister and I ended up exactly four months apart. Now I not only have the whispers of the adults in my head, but I also have the siblings who I didn’t even know judging me and making fun of me when my father wasn't around. They would say things like, “She doesn't look like us!”, even though I did. Now I have more weight on me from the disapproval. I would go back to my mother and tell her what they were saying and she would say once more “Don’t listen to them.”She would then scold my older brother for allowing such things to be said in his presence. Now that I am an adult, I come to realize that there was never any ease to that weight that I carried as a child. I would hear comments from my peers on how my little brother was telling people he didn’t really know if I was his sister. I didn’t have a relationship with my father’s family except for his favorite sister whom I favored, and she adored me and so did her children. But that wasn't enough for that heaviness to be released from me.
Who was I? I didn’t know. And since I did not know there was more weight added. It was the weight I had to keep in. It was the weight I had to hide behind the fake smile that I perfected because I did not want others to see me, the one who wasn't sure about herself.
Since I was carrying around this weight, it would leak out often. I came to know I have a problem trusting people because I didn't know who I was. I didn't trust my mother or my family members because they toyed with my identity carelessly when they all knew the truth. The only one who did not toy with my identity was my father and my aunt his favorite sister. But I carried a deep resentment because he never signed my birth certificate; something I felt he should have rushed to do. He and my mother blamed my mother’s mother for not calling him when my mother was in labor. She purposely left my father off the birth certificate when she filled it out for my mother.
This loss of identity was woven in me.I was left with the loss of identity that I never quite gained and the extra weight came the moment my father was murdered when I was just 13 years old. He never had the chance to sign my birth certificate that he promised he would sign (I felt that would give me a sense of confirmation.). I had to learn to let everyone involved off the hook so that I could heal and trust. I am still learning and working toward it.
I never realized how much that weight of disapproval, rejection, and gossip affected me until a few years ago. Wanting to be accepted so bad led to me being a people-pleaser. Being an empath did not help at all because the energies I would feel and absorb. I never wanted the whisperers to see me sweat. I never wanted them to know that they hurt me, and one who I needed most was dead. I couldn't allow my mother to see that my soul hurt because of the choices of adults.
I had to make a choice to allow that pain to be seen and released in order to free up the other weight that was heavy on me. I had to be honest with myself and admit I did not know who I was. I did not know how to love me. I did not know how to give me the attention that I needed for me. I did not know how to trust. I didn't want to cry, but I was crying every day and I had to tell myself that it was okay.
When we are healing we must dig deep to the roots and start dealing with that first.
What weight do you carry that you have been carrying since you were a child?
"The day u chose 2 leave me
u rained constantly outside
In truth I swore the rain 2 be
The tears in Cupid's eyes" (Tupac Amaru Shakur)
There is nowhere to start and there is nowhere to end and the in-between has me restless. Sometimes there is only one thing left to say and that is ta-ta. The wish to no longer long for you. The strength to walk away completely whole and not in two. The courage to smile with love all the way through. The courage to tell the Universe "Thank you" and not feel blue.
You see I wanted you in every kind of way. I am now choosing not to fall victim to the twin flame trek. We are what we are, but I can place this badge away with the honor. I know that one day I will be able to pull it out for our reunion...
Ta-ta my love.
Very truly yours,
She is no longer here…
The one who filtered her inner child since she was a little girl.
The one who second-guessed her inner voice in order to allow someone else to keep their distorted view.
The one who was insecure about her nose, her hair, her feet, and her color.
The one who forced herself into crowded spaces when she had a space on the throne.
The one who hid behind a fake smile to hide her pain.
The one who raced to nurture others but kept herself amused with pain, fear, turmoil, and self-hate.
The one who would do just about anything to see the ones she loved to smile.
The one who didn’t like change because she was used to the dysfunction and stunted growth.
The one who used her imagination while daydreaming to escape her reality but never allowed her desires to truly manifest.
The one who hid her gifts
The one who didn't give herself enough credit.
The one who didn't value her own worth.
The one who sought validation.
The one felt she wasn't good enough and wasn't for sure she ever would be.
The one who was afraid to expose her faults and mistakes.
The one who would gossip in order to not think about her own bullshit.
The one who couldn’t feel God but knew so much about religion.
The one who kept her mind in a box with the limited views and opinions of others.
The one who felt sorry for herself.
The one who played the victim in just about every episode of her life.
The one who was afraid of being alone.
The one who had a voice but was afraid to use it at times.
The one who played hero to everyone but herself.
The one who was afraid to shine.
Yeah her… she is no longer here. I haven't seen her around lately. The thing is you look just like her, but your smile is different.
Your glow is flawless.
Your laugh is a treat
Your love is displayed beautifully…
I’ve been asking the Universe about you...the one that I just happened to bump into. Bound from our first encounter, and we didn't even shake hands on it first. What is this I ask? I’ve asked that question for years now...what is this? You woke my soul up from a deep slumber and now I can’t get it back to sleep and it sure won’t rest without you. I cry the tears blue...without you…
I felt it was a selfish trick for the Universe to play... allow us to meet then take it away...but not too far away… because I am allowed to hear your voice but I can’t touch you. I am allowed to read your words but can’t grasp them in the physical...I miss you. Yet the ego has a hell of a way of limiting me on how much I tell you and I am sure your ego must be on that too. I whisper…please, love just let me be.
It feels good to love you, though, and it hurts me when I fight it. So I stopped fighting. It hurts when your prance on my heart the way you do and then I speak good vibes out into the universe for you. I call your name three times, and the pain ceases and I am back to smiling at you and me. Then the Universe sends me love letters from you, asking me to remember you and me. Then out of the blue, you appear again, forcing me to show you where your heart is in me. But you never take it back you always leave it right here. I get a little more hope. I get a little more excited...I get a little more ambition...healed...lifted...
Then there is another lesson that we must learn. Another obstacle we must face and I am left swinging...but then I get it. I conquer the lesson and I run out to the Universe, waving my hand saying look...I did it and ask is it time yet? I wait...I wait...I wait…
I’ve been asking the Universe about you...Then…
111,222,333,444,1010,1111,1212 shows up again for the fifteenth-hundredth time…
My soul hasn't been the same since another piece of my heart left me. This is the pain after the funeral is over and everyone got back to living the temporary lives we all got. This is the pain that keeps you up at night riddled with questions, despair, anguish, weariness, confusion, a mirror, some answers, some clues, tears of heartbreak that won't stop because of the memories. The pain that strengthens you without you knowing until you there at that moment...standing with a heavy heart but refusing to give up. The pain that allows you to see who really cares and who doesn't. The pain that reminds you that everything on earth is temporary.The pain that plays back thousands of memories like a film on fast speed and you can't breathe.
I'm left reading the obituary knowing that the things one beautiful soul desired to do were never accomplished. I'm left with a lesson live, your life, the way you want with joy or live your life by settling and anticipate a better life after death. I'm left with this bitter taste that a beautiful soul settled. I'm left with encouragement to be the best-selling author I desire to be. I'm left with my temporary time here on earth and I can't waste it and that I have to live it wisely. I can't settle. I don’t have to wait for anyone to accept me, believe in me, love me with action, like me, help, or anything. There are people on this earth that God gives you and you never have to question their love. One beautiful soul had known my insecurities before I ever mouthed them, inspired me and spoke life over me. I'm left different today because a beautiful soul ascended.
Often I wonder... Do I have what it takes? Often I second guess myself. Often I wonder am I good enough.
I have to remind myself that it's ok not to be right because I know I can explore the right answer in the lesson. It's ok not to be perfect, but I will continue working on being "Perfectly" ME. It's okay not to have it all together as long as I work toward completion.
I AM a queen
I AM a leader
I AM a goddess
I AM A National best-selling book author
I AM a healer
I am healthy.
I AM LOVE.
I AM LOVED.
Tell yourself all that you are even if you don't quite see it yet. It is coming!
Why do I want him? The connection I have felt with him since I 1st met him.
Why do I want him? I have never stopped thinking of him.
Why do I want him? He makes me smile from the inside out without trying and my world is alright.
Why do I want him? Maybe because I never had him.
Why do I want him? Because I never met anyone like him yet I barely know him on a surface level and that is what has intrigued me.
Why do you want him? Because I am in love with him.
Why do I want him? Because he is handsome.
Why do I want him? He works hard.
Why do I want him? He is a good father.
Why do I want him? He heals me without medicine. Thats a special gift only God can provide.
Why do I want him? Because I pray for him like I pray for myself and family.
Why do I want him? He makes me anxious.
Why do I want him? I imagine him.
Why do I want him? Because it's this weight on my heart that won't leave whenever he is not around.
Why do I want him? Because he inspires me without trying.
Why do I want him? He motivates me without knowing.
Why do I want him? Because I want to know if everything I'm feeling is wrong and I can finally move on or melt into him.
Why do I want him? Because the light of love in my eyes is enabled by him and has been for a long while now.
Why do I want him? Because I want to know if I made it up.
Why do I want him? Because the time with him is never enough.
Why do I want him? I want to teach him.
Why do I want him? I want to make his world better.
Why do I want him? I want to change the world with him.
Why do I want him? Because I want to love him like I have not loved another before.
Why do I want him? Because he ignites my flame.
Why do I want him? Because I am in love with him.
Why do I want him? To see if it was a lie.
Why do I want him? To prove the Universe was right and it was meant to be and loving him was not in vain.
A little lesson for me and maybe for you too. There are a billion folk in this world and it amazed me how much we are willing to compromise against what our souls desire, because of one human being or a few more. It amazed me to see folk (myself included) that stopped doing things they loved because of another’s insecurity or feelings. We weren’t put here as possessions for others yet we cave so willingly. There are so many people we can gel with and they wouldn’t want to change a thing about us but support our growth as well. Yet we hold onto the ones that want us to compromise out of fear of breaking hearts and being labeled as selfish. I am learning to live with no attachments. If I can’t gel with an individual then, I will happily with love send the person away from me in peace.
BEAUTIFUL SOULS! Forgive me for being late.I had so many excuses as to why it took me so long to share my gift of writing with the world...from being a mother, wife, mentor to so many girls, paralegal and yada, yada, yada! BUT I finally said no more excuses. I finally decided not to be a victim of “Sacrifice” when it came to my dreams of being an Author. The thing about my passion for writing is that it would keep me up at night or wake me up out my sleep to scribble a dream down or suddenly get hot palms at work while several phrases would pop in my head. I was born to write. While I gained, several different titles in my 37 years of life, being blessed with creativity with words were a gift by the Divine. I ask that you forgive me for my tardiness, but I am ready now. I am ready to change my part of the world with my words.
OOH GIRL… is the first of many books. OOH GIRL… is a romantic drama filled with love, laughter and suspense. It is that Twin-Flame romance that is rare and real-life issues that some are too afraid to speak about.
While you read OOH GIRL… you should know I am preparing something a little witchy for you to read next. Stay tuned.
Are you ready?
Author Brenda K. Thomas
Hello BEAUTIFUL SOULS! Thank you for visiting. Here you will get my raw thoughts. Not always pretty thoughts but mind provoking and maybe life-changing thoughts. As a writer I get to be myself in raw form, completely unscripted and never filtered.
Today I thought...Wonder if I wasn't so nervous about the world finally getting to know me as an author? My answer...Be patient, day by day I will get more comfortable and each day I will get to share a little more of me.
Confession: I was a hoarder of all feelings. The good, bad and ill ones. I learned to release the bad and ill ones. They cluttered my mind. I write them in pages and twist them into a world of Fiction. Creativity with words is my passion. I recently published my first book OOH GIRL... I can't wait for you to read it.
Author Brenda K. Thomas
Brenda K Thomas is new to the world of being a published author but not the world of writing. Although Brenda struggled with insecurities about becoming a published author, she worked tirelessly, with the encouragement of family and friends to perfect her newly released novel, “Ooh Girl.” a story about a twin-flame romance. She also reflected on many of the hidden secrets that grow deeply among American families, even today.
Brenda has no intention of letting her creativity rest. As she plans to continue writing to perfect her craft, she is currently working on other books. She wants it to be known she is an out of the box writer, who doesn’t stick to one genre of writing. Brenda resides in Columbus, Ohio, maintaining her professional career as a Paralegal and a mother of five children.