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.
This post is in response to the Daily Post. The word today was sound.
Ten – The number of things still left on my to do list.
Nine – The number of hours left before I have to get up and cook breakfast for Munch.
Eight – The number of brothers and sisters I think my dad said I had.
Seven – The number of days until my next therapy session.
Six – The number of mini-breakdowns I’ve had today.
Five – The number of months that I’ve been dating the man who makes my heart swell.
Four – The number of times I’ve been assaulted by men.
Three – The number of men that I’ve loved.
Two – The number of people that it takes to be in a healthy relationship.
One – The only life that I have to live.
This post is inspired by The Daily Post. The word of the day was ten.
This post right here is everything. Please read this beautiful post and you will understand why I say that.
In the weeks since the election I have been called many things. I’ve been called racist, homophobic and sexist. I’ve been told I am contributing to rape culture and that I have no respe…
Source: Don’t Judge a Person by Their Vote – True Confessions of a Trump Supporter
My Monday Motivational Moment is wrapped up into my seven days of thankfulness. I am thankful for moments. I know you’re probably wondering, what moments, so let me break it down for you.
Moments that happen in our lives are meant to reveal things to us. Some good and some bad. But, it is in those moments that we discover who we really are and who someone really is. Things are revealed like a curtain being pulled back and us finding out that there is no real wizard. We see things and people for who they are.
I’m thankful for those moments. They have helped shaped me. I continue to discover new things both good and bad about myself and those I interact with, but I tell you that it is in those moments that I grow stronger. There is strength in discovering the truth about people and situations.
Moments matter. Enjoy them. Cherish them. Understand them. I am thankful for those moments that defined who I am and what I’m meant to be.
October is National Domestic Violence Awareness Month and several of my posts this month will focus on the seriousness of #DV. If you are in an abusive relationship, find resources from a “sa…
Source: October is National Domestic Violence Awareness Month #abuse #domesticviolence
I saw this when I started loving photos on Facebook for my friends and seeing these beautiful bursting hearts. I was amazed. It was love everywhere…
Cute huh? So, I searched the internet to find out more about International Day of Peace was established by the United Nations. They have established 17 Sustainable Development Goals. But, let’s talk about some of them now.
- Ensure healthy lives and promote well-being for all at all ages
- Ensure inclusive and equitable quality education
- Achieve gender equality and empower all women and girls
- Make cities and human settlements inclusive, safe, resilient and sustainable
- Promote peaceful and inclusive societies, justice for all, and build effective, accountable and inclusive institutions
I loved him.
I craved him.
I allowed him to do things to me that you can only imagine.
My body was his.
My soul was his.
My mind was his.
He was the puppet master and I was the puppet.
Love was fleeting to him.
I was one of the others.
He couldn’t be bothered.
Bothered with getting to know me.
To see me.
To truly know what makes me tick.
Maybe if he had, he would have known.
That I was losing it.
Losing my mind with all these games.
Lost in my head with sex.
Lost without him.
I was lost.
I didn’t like losing.
That’s why I made sure that he knew
that I wasn’t a mistake.
That this wasn’t a mistake.
That this love was forever.
My 22 caliber pistol showed him
that a love like ours was eternal.
It could never be a mistake.
This post was inspired by the Daily Post. The word of the day was mistake.