Life,  Memoir,  Non-fiction,  Relationships,  Uncategorized

Beyond the Smile 

I feel lost in a world of others perceptions and idealization of me. I  wonder if they are daring enough to step a little closer or at least get a magnifying glass to get a better view of ME. I keep my door open, my life is an open book, that goes unread, well most look at the cover and sit ME back down as if their eyes read every word attached to my life.

I fill myself with hope, thinking they will eventually see ME as I do, but as I get close enough to show them my reflection, I am greeted with rejection and festering wounds of hurt, disappointment and unbiased judgement. Once again I sit and wonder why they choose to stand from a distance and make up their mind about me.

I’m at a lost. So lost that I have become comfortable with every type of pain they inflict on me at every turn. I realized that, sometimes I put myself out there to be hurt, because it’s an emotion that tells me I’m alive. I’m alive to hear the painful words fall from their tongue to my heart and tho it’s bleeding from the damage inflicted, it’s still beating.

Once again, I’m wondering why and at times I feel the need to pull my heart from my chest to show them that my heart is still beating, I’m still alive and healing without the need of their emotional doctoring of sorry’s.

I’m a grown woman who have endured and survived physica3l, emotionally and mentally abusive relationships and I’m codependent. Do I really love them that much that I sat for years wondering and wishing they would see me? Yes. Did they hate me to the point of begging to be that revolving door of pain in my life? No. Was there something that I felt I lacked that allowed me to be a door mat, used up rag and human foot stool? Maybe.

I always felt that I had to go though life’s trauma, whatever that may come my way, must have been meant for me, I assumed. Out of concern for others I endured the pain, telling myself not to complain, because there was someone suffering worse than I.

I purposely did not pray, well I actually told myself, not to bother GOD, because HE was needed by another. Who was I to takeaway a prayer, a call for help, a plead for their life? I placed my value with GOD last to everyone else. Plus, I have always been fully aware of the suffering in this world, the horror someone is living and the real life nightmares that people live. 

My pain, was mines to bear, regardless to inflicted it upon me it was up to me to love me enough to survive it.  My wounds would heal eventually without the need to call of GOD or to ask for prayer or even call upon someone who could have helped me, but I found that my soul had not healed.

I found that pretending to be ok with what was done to me only showed on the outside. I have gone through life smiling, a no aide smile at that, but my heart was bleeding to death with in. I pretended to be ok with what was done, wiping my tears prior to seeing someone. I decided I can’t pretend anymore and I do not have to suffer the unjust pain and abuse others so willing dish out to me. I’m reclaiming not only my life, but my heart and soul. No longer will I hide behind my smile. When you see my smiling know that I’m truly happy and no one will be able to still my joy again ever. 

Native of New Orleans, who endured 20yrs cruel Minnesota Cold, I decided at 42yrs old it was time to pack up my then 6yr old and come back to my roots. I am all things that would challenge the belief of growing up in New Orleans. I was a 16yr old teen mother of a preterm 2lb baby girl born with a disability. With the help of my mother who had her own struggles. We survived the obstacles laid before us. I'm the proud mother of three children with two failed adoptions, as well as a grandmother of three, two grandsons and a granddaughter. I survived two abusive marriages. I successfully ran a soulfood restaurant and catering company in Minnesota for 12 years. I started creating custom cakes after the murder of my beloved cousin Melvin Paul.  He survived Katrina only to go to Minneapolis six months later to be murdered over a parking spot dispute.  I put my all into my cake business over the years as House of Cakes was started right out of my house in honor of him. I thought by having the big house on the hill, a husband, having a family, foster/adoptive mother at that, being involved in all things that matter, plus having the funds to match would cure me in a sense; but most of it poisoned my heart and soul. I had a broken heart and I felt deep down the only way to repair it was to get back to my roots, my soul, my home,  myself, my New Orleans. I'm here and I'm loving it. Even being in the so called Blighted Area of New Orleans and not having all the financial and material security, I'm happy. I am determined that She, yes New Orleans is a woman is just like me; together we will overcome and will rise from all that tried to kill our spirit. Nothing like starting from the bottom and making your way back up! I'm down in the boot, but I know I have a nice floppy hat awaiting my destiny...

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