Ordinary

It was an ordinary day. On an ordinary street. In an ordinary house. In that house sat three ordinary girls. They were laughing and playing and giggling like the 13 year old girls they were. They talked about boys, dreams and their parents.

They discussed how they hated some of their teachers and school was so boring. They dreamed of summer vacations and new clothes. It was almost over. Summer was almost here and they vowed to make this an extraordinary summer.

Savannah logged into her laptop. She quickly logged into a website and started chatting up her new friend. He was an older boy. He was 18. She liked him. They had been chatting on-line for a few weeks now.

She sent him pictures of herself and he always told her that she was beautiful. She liked that. She never thought of herself as beautiful. Cute and ordinary. However, Paul (that was his name) always made her believe that she was beautiful.

He told her she could be a model. Paul asked her to face time him with her friends around. She did. They giggled and smiled and posed as Paul said that they were beautiful and could all be models.

Paul asked them to meet them in the parking lot at the local mall. They agreed. They told their parents that they were going to the mall and would be back in a couple of hours. They were careful. Nothing would happen to the three of them.

They were taught that you always travel together. So, they did. It was nothing special. A bus took them to the mall and they waited in the parking lot by the local Macy’s. They laughed with the fact that one of them had a boyfriend. They giggled.

They weren’t able to date yet.

Across the parking lot, Paul approached them. He was so sexy. He had on nice clothes and shoes and the biggest smile. His teeth were straight. Wow! He was gorgeous.

They were so busy pointing and smiling at Paul that they didn’t see the van pull up behind them and the men grab them and stuff them in the truck. An ordinary black van filled with men holding them down as they struggled and screamed and then went limp.

Ordinary girls are sold into sex-trafficking every day. We need to do something about this. No more silence please.

 

 

This post is part of the Daily post. The word of the day was ordinary.

Want to keep in touch? You can find me on social media at the following links:  Twitter @mskeeinmd, Facebook page A Thomas Point of View and my Instagram page https://www.instagram.com/mskeeinmd/

Instinct

My instinct told me that he wasn’t the one for me.

I ignored it.

I was in that place of blissful ignorance and called it love.

Why was I ignoring my instinct?

My instinct told me that he was a liar and an abuser.

I ignored it.

Even after that first punch, my heart protected him.

My instinct told me to run.

The continued physical and emotional abuse had left me broken.

An empty shell.

I was dying inside.

My instinct kept telling me that one day he would kill me.

I ignored it.

Death was better than this.

I loved him.

I just had to be better.

I had to be more of what he wanted.

I had to change.

I woke up this morning and my instinct told me that today was the last day I would be alive.

I ignored it.

I laid next to him.

Watching him sleep silently.

He was beautiful.

I reached under my pillow and grabbed the blade.

I stabbed the hell out of him.

He lay choking in his own blood.

My instinct was wrong.

Today was the day he took his last breath.

 

Today’s post is inspired by the Daily Post. The word was instinct.

Want to keep in touch? You can find me on social media at the following links:  Twitter @mskeeinmd, Facebook page A Thomas Point of View and my Instagram page https://www.instagram.com/mskeeinmd/.

Sound

Excerpt from my story Jacob’s Girl:

The last image I have of my family together occurred when I was nine years old. My mom had just walked in the house from a long day of work.  She was tired and you could see it in her face.  My dad had been drinking.  My ten month old brother and I were playing in the living room.  The sound of the television playing in the background as I made my brother laugh.

My mom came in and sat down on the couch. My dad had a frightening look in his eyes. The next sound I heard was his fist hit her across her face. I screamed. My baby brother fell and started to cry. My mom started fighting back and screaming at me to get my brother! Get the baby and go in your room! I did. I picked up the baby and ran into my bedroom.

My six year old sister was crying and I being the oldest tried to comfort them both. I heard the sound of glass breaking. Blood curdling screams. Cursing and crying. Fists punching, the sounds of pain being inflicted in the name of love. This is what it was right? This was love.

©Tikeetha Thomas

This post is in response to the Daily Post. The word today was sound.

Simple

How simple life would be if we just lived in and owned our own truth? Why do we complicate matters by practicing deceit, ignorance and omission? Aren’t you exhausted from all the games?

I am.

Simple.

I choose to simply tell the truth.

Own my truth.

I don’t owe anyone explanations for my behavior.

Take it or leave it but the truth is simple.

Here are my some of my truths:

  • I don’t want any more children. I choose not to be pregnant ever again. Been there and done that.
  • I don’t want to pretend that I have it all together. I don’t. Half the time I am just winging it and hoping I don’t fall apart before I get home.
  • Men from my past life…you have no chance with me right now. I’m in a happy and healthy relationship and I need you to reflect on why we aren’t together in the first place.
  • I shut down when I’m tired of listening to the same argument. I won’t go in circles with the same issues.
  • I don’t say stuff out of anger. I choose my words carefully because I can’t take it back when it’s said. I just shut down.
  • I am an advocate for women’s rights. As a survivor of abuse, I refuse to allow anyone to be victimized or suffer in silence like I did.

Simple. Those are my truths. I own them. I make no apologies for being who I am and you know what? Neither should you. Simply be the best you possible.

 

This post is in response to the Daily Post. The word was simple.

The Shiftless Man

I decided that I needed to speak to the ladies today. I wanted to share some wisdom, advice or have girl talk about men. One type of man in particular.

One thing that I’ve realized in the many relationships that I’ve had or discussed with my girlfriends is that there is a population of men that like to call you victims. These men – for lack of a better word we’ll call them The Shiftless Man will do everything in his power to convince a woman that she is trying to be a victim when he is being a bully.

Beware of The Shiftless Man. He is a modern day con artist. He will do everything in his power to shift the blame to you. His traits and characteristics are noticeable, but his actions may seem to fool an untrained eye. So, let me give you some things you should look for if you are in a relationship with The Shiftless Man.

  • The Shiftless Man will cheat on you and have you believing that it is your fault that he cheated on you. He will tell you that it was because you didn’t cook for him, wash his clothes, pay his child support and/or slob his knob on a regular and consistent basis as the reason that he chose to step outside of your relationship. It’s your fault that he couldn’t be faithful. You will undoubtedly be angered, hot and beyond pissed and then the tears will fall. You can’t believe the audacity of this man that you know that you want to punch him in his throat, slash his tires or paper the city with his photo of being a cheat that you can’t help but cry. He in his self-centered mind will tell you that you’re trying to play the victim in this situation. Really? Girl, get out now before he gives you an STD or something that you can’t get rid of.
  • The Shiftless Man will be verbally abusive. He can’t help it. It’s part of his make-up. You deal with it. You love him. You believe that you can change him. You want the relationship to work. You want your family so you take it. You take it over and over again. Your love diminishes as your hatred grows. You are boiling with anger and pain and wondering how the hell did you end up here. You did everything right, but why are you allowing this man to be verbally abusive to you? He calls you names: fat, b*tch, hoe, slut, dumb as*, etc and you just cry. However, he mistakes those tears for sympathy in hopes that you’ll do better. He’s the dumb a*s because everyone knows that those tears are tears of pain and time wasted. You wonder why do you put up with this and he tells you to stop being the victim. Girl please! You are not the victim. You are just trying not to be the perpetrator of the crime and kill him. Oh, but he’s too busy blowing smoke up his own butt that he can’t see your love switching to anger. Get out now! No man is worth a murder rap.
  • The Shiftless Man will play mind games. It’s part of his make-up. He wants you to believe that he is smarter than you. He will try to manipulate and control you in all situations and have you believing that his a*s is the King of a foreign country. You’ll play along. Why? Because you fell in love with a very nice man. You think that the man that you fell in love with will return. I mean how could he be so mean to you? You work full-time, keep in shape, take care of the house, pleasure him regularly and still manage to play nice with his trifling friends and family. But, he won’t change. You’ll demand respect and he’ll laugh in your face. You’ll demand honesty and he will walk right past you. You will get so mad that your tears will start to flow. He’ll look at you and through you and say “Stop playing the victim. You’re always the victim.” Girl, get out now. Convince him that you are going to have a sex change because he is not man enough for you. Get on with your life and stop letting him hold you down or hold you back.

If you are a woman in a relationship with The Shiftless Man, I need you to get out now! You have to focus on your mental health and this man will tear you down. Don’t believe what he says. You are not a victim! You are beautiful. You are intelligent and more importantly…you deserve better.

Stand up and shed the dead weight of The Shiftless Man and realize that you are a survivor. You survived the insults. You survived the constant cheating on you. You survived the mental abuse. You survived the verbal abuse. You survived. That is your testimony. Plain and simple love.

Be you. Be happy. Be encouraged.

Election Day – Part 2

This post is a continuation of yesterday’s post.

 

As I stated in yesterday’s post, I early voted last week.

I took my Munch to dinner at his favorite Japanese Steakhouse and then we headed to Southern Regional Tech to go and vote. He was so patient. He knew the importance of voting and he wanted me to vote for his choice. Not the one that didn’t represent him.

We walked into the gym and he began to yell to everyone in the gym “Don’t vote for Trump.” I laughed and then began to explain that he can’t influence the voters. He whispered, “Mommy, make sure that you vote for Hillary.” I smiled. I was one lucky momma.

Munch went over and sat on the bleachers and waited for me to finish voting. The lines were long, but it was moving and he was so patient. I saw him sitting there talking to one of the election workers. An older gentleman who looked like he was in his late 60’s. Munch was really chatting it up.

I asked Munch what he and the man were talking about. Munch said, “I told him that if I could vote I would vote Ms. Clinton. I wouldn’t vote for Trump because he doesn’t represent me.” I asked him what the man said about that. He said that the man asked him why he thought that. He replied, “Because he’s a bully and bullies aren’t nice. Mommy says we are supposed to be nice.”

Ya’ll know that I was dying right? My baby is so beautiful. He then asked me “Mommy, who did you vote for?” I laughed and told him that I voted for Hillary. He had the biggest smile and we took this photo:

There are many reasons that I didn’t vote for Trump and even though I’m not that fond of Hillary, she is still a better choice than him.  However, I wanted to tell him the many reasons that I won’t vote for Trump and trust me there are many, but I won’t vote for someone who thinks it is okay to touch a woman without her permission. Touching a woman in the way he mentioned is sexual assault.
I’ve been sexually assaulted. Multiple times.  I was 18 years old and on a Greyhound bus to Tennessee to go to college. I sat alone for the first four hours of an 18 hour bus ride. At the four hour mark, a black woman in her thirties sat across from me in the aisle. She was nice. She smiled and made small talk. I told her that I was headed to college. I wanted to be a lawyer. She couldn’t stop talking to me about that.

Sitting next to me in the window seat was a man. He didn’t really speak to me. I didn’t care. I didn’t like talking to strangers. Especially strange men. At hour 10 on this long bus ride, the man sitting next to me began to grope me in the dark. He was grabbing my butt, grabbing my breasts and putting his hands in between my legs. I kept pushing his hand away. I moved. I told him to stop. He didn’t. He reached over and grabbed my breasts. I pushed his hands away. He put his hands between my legs. I moved them.

I began to cry. Tears falling down my cheeks I began to think what was wrong with me? Why do men keep touching me without my permission? I felt all alone.

I moved closer to the woman across the aisle who was sleeping. She opened her eyes and looked at me. She saw the tears and asked me what’s wrong. I told her that the man next to me kept touching me. That he grabbed my breasts and put his hands between my legs. She screamed.

At the top of her lungs. Got up out of her seat and made a big fuss out of him being a predator. She grabbed me and pulled me behind her and cussed the hell out of that man. She woke the whole bus up.

The bus driver asked her what was the matter and she told him that the man sitting next to me was abusing me. He was preying on this young girl on her way to college. The bus driver pulled over on the side of the road. He asked the man did he touch me. The man didn’t respond. He put the man off the bus. He called the station to let them know.

I don’t care who you vote for today, but I ask you this…would you vote for a man, any man who thinks it’s okay to grab a young woman on the bus or a woman walking down the street? Does my body belong to you?