Coming to Terms With Mother's Day
Mother’s Day is never a good day for me. The week leading up to it always feels ugly, heavy, dark. My mother is alive. She lives not too far from me now but the relationship is still strained. Our communication isn’t very frequent and I can count on one hand how many times we have seen each other or embraced in the last 10 years.
When I was a young girl I used to blame my mother for everything. The abandonment was pungent on me. You could tell that I was missing something. It lingered and stained. I found myself angry, sad, confused, and a myriad of other emotions I haven’t spoken out loud yet. I carried the pain with me and used it as fuel to be better and greater…that was all cosmetic.
Now that I am approaching 30 and I have been consistently catering to my mental health with therapy and spiritual practices I have been able to have some hard conversations with the maternal figures in my life. I wanted to know who we are and what pain we carry. I needed to know in order for me to continue to heal my mother-wound.
The women in my family have suffered immensely, in my opinion, when it comes to a lack of maternal love and care. There was a breakdown of how to be a mother, something I have not experienced. The distanced type of parenting, untreated mental health issues, and emotional unavailability may be a key factor in the breakdown of the relationship I have with my own mother.
I was afraid to speak it. I was afraid they would be ashamed. I was afraid it would bring further humiliation to my family. Motherhood, from where I stand, is something we struggle with within my family. Not every woman in my family is an absent and emotionally unavailable mother but it’s there.
I often wonder how I can fix it. I am a solution-based person so being able to heal and fix things within myself is how I process. Not being able to fix my own mother or erase decades of trauma is nauseating at times. I want to be able to heal my entire maternal lineage. I want to be able to rewrite our story but I do not want children.
How can I speak about motherhood if I am not one? How can I speak about the maternal trauma that stems from my great-grandmother? How can I prepare those that come after me to not love the way the others have loved? To listen? To not abandon? To not abuse? If I do not want children.
I feel foolish trying to fix this most times. I feel like I don’t have the grounds to speak because I am not a mother. I feel like I don’t have the proper chair to sit at the table and talk about the mother-wound in a way that SPEAKS the actions of neglectful mothers. I was very much so neglected. I was very much so abused. I was very much so born to a mother who was not and is still not able to show up for me in the ways I need. But does that give me a seat? Does that give me the ability to say “these things matter when it comes to being a mother?”.
My mother is a woman just like me. I have to remind myself of this constantly. She is flawed, just like me. She is heartbroken by a lack of relationship with her own mother, just like me.
So who am I? I am the daughter of Kimberly, grand-daughter of Barbara Ann, great-granddaughter of Margaret and Callie. I carry the trauma of the women in my family. I am working to heal these things. Being a motherless child when your mother is alive yet painfully absent is a grieving process that can feel never-ending.
Every year I have to come to terms with this. Every Mother’s Day I am painfully reminded that my inner healing work isn’t done. I turn into that little 9-year-old girl sobbing loudly wondering where my Mother was. I am still trying to heal her.
Girl, where have you been?
So many things have shifted in my life since December. Good things, not so good things, just okay things too. I am experiencing new relationships, opportunities, and ideas all at once. It is truly a year of rebirth and redemption for me. I hope to write more in 2020 but I am not going to pressure myself. I am going to continue to write when I feel pulled to.
I did something major today. Something I said I would never do again — I clearly love being a hypocrite. I launched a new podcast and I am really excited to see where it takes me. I hope it inspires me to write more, love more, and understand more. I am always working towards being more compassionate and graceful.
The podcast is called Give Them Their Flowers. It is a podcast about PRAISE and PURPOSE. I vow to give people their flowers while they are still here. I think it is important to praise people for all of their accomplishments, not just the ones that society deems important. I believe in loving on people now and not later. I believe in holding myself accountable by making sure I recognize those around me in ways that encourage and affirm them.
I remember the feeling of isolation and abandonment. I remember vividly the feeling of doubt and those moments where imposter syndrome was beating my ass. I still have those moments but they are not as intense because those that love me, affirm me. Those that love me give me flowers daily. My garden is full of beautiful compliments and words of encouragement. My goal with this podcast is to fill people’s gardens. My goal is to create beautiful bouquets and hand them to those that deserve them the most.
20 Things I Know for Sure
It’s been a while. Shit has happened and I am back, hopefully, with a more consistent schedule. I would ask for your forgiveness and grace but to be honest with you all ——it is what it is. As you all know I was severely ill and faced death twice. I learned so much during those moments in time and I realize now that I know nothing at all. As we embark on the winter solstice and the new decade I felt like it would be fitting to write about the 20 things I have learned over the last 20 years. This is also a call to action — to you all—- to do the same. You can share it with me or not. It really does not matter. I think just the reflection alone is enough. I am revamping my blog and website (peep the new URL), I have been doing some photoshoots (get into these looks), and I am aiming to bring some more dynamic content to my website on my own terms. But let’s get to the meat and potatoes of it all —-what are 20 things I know for sure.
photo : @rlwesleyphoto (IG) | website
crystal crown: @thecrystalbruja (IG) | website
shirt: @whole_loaf (IG)
“Pageant the pain away”
I am a performer. I have been performing since I was a little girl. I performed happiness, joy, “being okay”, beauty standards, etc. I performed in school, at home, amongst family and friends but the best performance I have done for years is the one I do for myself. Beyonce’s song Pretty Hurts, although about physical beauty, resonates with me internally. I often found myself being methodical about all parts of myself to fit a mold. My personality had to be big to cover for how small I truly felt. My achievements had to be monumental to shield myself from my own self-deprecating behavior. I had to be the best at everything and even when I was told I was the best —- I felt as if I was not. Being an inspiration, motivation, and role model were titles that were forced on me. I didn’t ask for these things but with each title, I performed harder, better, longer — with no breaks and no downtime. I used the pageantry of life as an attempt to belong, to feel less alone, to feel whole. None of that shit worked. I still found myself self-harming, contemplating suicide, feeling alone. Compliments were bandaids that were too small. I was never satisfied with myself. From this, I learned that I cannot pageant the pain away. No matter how many accolades I get, compliments I receive, or titles I have —-I have to do the inner work. I HAD to do the inner work. That was the only way I could find satisfaction with myself.
The support you need vs the support you think you need are not the same
Okay, so check it, I DID NOT REALIZE THAT ALL SUPPORT AIN’T THE SUPPORT I NEED. When I got sick, I thought I needed my support system to look a certain way. I truly thought I needed people to text and call me daily to check in on me. I thought I needed a rallying of the troops on social media. I thought I needed constant and consistent bodies but I did not. I quickly realized that I did not need those things. I needed support in other ways. I needed visitors, facetime dates that didn’t revolve around my illness, monetary support, food, medical supplies, and space. I had to come to terms with the fact that not everyone knows how to support me and that was really because I didn’t know how I wanted to be supported and I needed to figure it out. Once I figured it out after having several meltdowns and deleting most of my social media accounts —I was able to advocate for myself in a better way. I was able to say, without feeling shameful, “Hey thanks for thinking of me but texting me constantly asking how I am doing is not helpful or effective. Here are the ways you can support me during this time.” It was hard as hell at first. I had been programmed to believe that It was ungrateful to decline help because any form of help is better than nothing —- THAT IS FALSE. You should be getting the help you actually NEED and the help that is EFFECTIVE. Declining something that serves no purpose does not mean you are ungrateful.
Your family does not need to be privy to all of your business
Now, this is something my dear cousin Tammy taught me when I graduated from college. I have been in a constant emotional battle (it is one-sided because I have never confronted this person about it) with a family member who I hold in high regard. I used to constantly —even up until recently— expect them to love me the way others do and to be proud of me in the way others are. Because of this, I overshared so much to make them feel included and then I would be distraught when they didn’t exclaim with joy or hurt at things that were happening to me and for me. I truly thought I was obligated to share things. That is a lie from the pits of hell. Your family DOES NOT need to know the ins and outs of your life. You can choose what to share with them but many things can be kept to the chest. Learning this hard hard lesson time and time again has really snatched me of my edges. Your girl is bald at this point. Now, instead of running to overshare to try and forge relationships or build relationships —- I go to people who celebrate me, comfort me, affirm me and I am mindful of what information is for everybody and what can just be for me. It is hard but it has helped me become a more private person and that brings me peace.
People think they know you and they don’t
I told y’all earlier that I am a performer and so many of my performances in life have created an audience of people who THINK they know me and THINK they have full access to me and they do not. This is annoying. We all have experienced this. We may have also been on the other end of thinking we know someone and we don’t. People have many layers, sides, traits. People are constantly changing and evolving. You may have met a person 5 years ago but that doesn’t mean they are that same person today. This is also an issue with boundaries, I will talk about that next. People believe, especially with social media, that they can communicate with you about any and everything without any regard to your personal autonomy. People invite themselves into your space and demand that you be who they THINK you should be. They demand the play by play of the things you CHOOSE to share and then take it personally when you tell them that you don’t feel comfortable giving them the whole damn tea kettle on your life. This happens to me OFTEN. I am aware now as to why this happens and I try not to think too deeply to understand people who don’t understand boundaries. That is dead, we off that. We show people who we are and what we are on our own terms. Everything else is a privilege. You can feel connected to a part of someone but understand that there are many parts to the whole and be mindful of what demands you present in the guise of “oh but I know them”.
People can be habitual line-steppers
Boundaries.Boundaries.Boundaries. So many of us fall short of understanding and respecting boundaries. We are entitled and demanding at times and it is truly trash. Who are we to demand so much of others who set boundaries upon us? Why can’t we respect said boundaries? I think it’s because we struggle with accepting that we do not and cannot control others like we think we can. People have the right to set hard boundaries and when the boundary infringes on you and your ideals it’s a problem. I have been here and I will experience this again and again because…human. The thing I am learning is that I can check myself before I become a habitual line-stepper. If a boundary is set and I am aware of the boundary —- I make a conscious effort to not cross it. I also think HARD AND LONG before I do things that may be considered boundary-crossing. Let’s chat about examples for a moment. If someone is sick and they post something about it, it is not your job to go to them and ask for the play by play. That is a mess. If someone DIES —- please do not post on the family member or friends page “How they die?” that’s not your damn business. If someone says “I do not like when people do xyz or call me xyz” don’t do xyz to them or call them xyz. It’s really that simple.
Things fall apart
One thing I struggled immensely with most of my life is understanding that things can and will and sometimes will and can often, very very often, fall apart. I always found myself in a race with fate and I always ended up distraught at the sheer thought of things not going well. I really believed at one point that I was the target of God’s sick joke. I believed that if something terrible was to happen then it would happen to your girl without a doubt and it did and it would. Woo. Let me say this — things fall apart. There is no if, ands, or buts about it. Sometimes bad shit happens and them are the breaks. Once I came to terms with the fact that this shit is not a personal attack and that I cannot outrun bad things happening —it became easier for me to deal with hard times in a healthier way. At first, it took me learning the same lessons over and over and over again but eventually I got my mind wrapped around these hard truths. I am living in reality now and although it’s not always pleasant it is much better than whatever the fuck else I was doing.
Things do get better
It really internally disgusts me to say this with such confidence because I can be very realistic to the point of pessimism but things DO get better. Now, don’t ask me for a timeline because I AIN’T GOT THE ANSWERS SWAY. But what I do know for sure is 13 months ago I was being told I had an infection that would never go away, I couldn’t walk without assistance, and I was bedridden and now none of these things are my reality. Things DO get better. When you are in the trenches it damn sure doesn’t feel like it. You literally are battling with your mind and the reality of what you are dealing with constantly. You are in this complicated web of horror and hope. You are truly just trying to get TF ASAP. But believe me when I tell you things DO get better. My life’s story is truly something out of a twisted Tyler Perry play and if I could give you an inside scoop on the bullshit that I have dealt with you would be like “Sis, how are you still with us and so well adjusted?” I would tell you I AIN’T GOT THE ANSWERS SWAY. Because I don’t. All I can say is literally hold on with the tightest grip you got and be the flow. This shit can truly be the pits but it does, eventually, one day(not sure which day) get better.
Relationships go through cycles
As most of you know I have had a very unhealthy relationship with many of my family members and some friends. One thing I know FOR SURE is relationships go through cycles and changes. I have mended and ended so many relationships over the last 20 years that I am surprised at where I am at now with certain people. All relationships go through cycles and stop trying to control them.
Your parent is just a human who happens to be your parent
I could write books and books about this. Y’all, in 2020, we have to really come to terms with these hard truths —- our parents are just humans. They are not special beings who have superpowers. They are not our saviors. They are not to be put on a pedestal. Once we realize this we can accept them for who they are and where they are. Our parents are operating from a place of their own childhood shit JUST LIKE US. They didn’t just appear on the Earth to be your parents. They had their own experiences and traumas. They may also be avoiding therapy. Shit, they may be projecting their own shit onto you. With all that being said — extend some compassion, set some boundaries (protect yourself), and accept them for who they are. That’s all you can do.
Some things just cannot and will not be understood and that is OKAY
I have a problem with trying to understand why people do the things they do. I really be baffled y’all. I mean FLABBERGASTED at the things people do and say that just don’t quite make sense to me. You know what I have learned and am continually reminding myself—- ACCEPTING DOES NOT MEAN I HAVE TO UNDERSTAND. Hear me out — I can accept someone for where they are at in life without trying to understand the method to their madness. Also, minding my damn business is the major key. When I find myself trying too hard to understand I say to myself “Self, this ain’t your business. You don’t need to understand.”
Stress can and will try to kill you
I don’t need to go into this because y’all know this. Stress can and will kill you. Ask me how I know? (inserts Mr.Krabs filter)
Stop trying to plan every single detail of your life —- it’s a recipe for disaster
As someone who used to operate from a place and spirit of “do too much” I can speak first hand to how trying to plan your future down to the type of shoes you will wear is ridiculous. Stop it. You don’t have that much control and you cannot predict every damn thing. You look like a fool. You are a fool. Life will humble you. A wrench will be thrown in your plan. You’re out here planning 5 years down the line and you don’t even know what’s for dinner tonight. PLEASE STOP DOING THIS. I am yelling at myself too. When that “do too much” spirit starts overtaking your body tell that bitch to BACK BACK. We don’t need those types of problems. Refer to number 11. Recipe for disaster.
We create stories about people based on limited information and it’s just not healthy
My therapist tells me this about myself and I hate her (love her) for it. One thing I have learned is that I find myself creating scenarios of how people will act or respond knowing damn well I do not know this for sure. Like I said earlier people think they know you when they do not. This is my truth. I do this often. It never serves me well and I am always disappointed. When I stop expecting things from people outside of what they have shown me to be true I can stop creating stories about them and who they are/ should be in my head.
WE ALL NEED THERAPY OF SOME SORT
Listen I do not and will not go back and forth with y’all about this any longer. We all and I mean ALL need some form of therapy. Finding a good therapist (there are so many different forms of therapy) can be super beneficial. Will you find the best option on the first try? Probably not. Does this mean you should swear off all therapy? HELL NO. How many times have you gone to that restaurant to “give it another try”? Or how many times have you had to cook something a few times before perfecting it. DO NOT GIVE UP. Your brain health is just as important as anything else. Please take care of your whole self. Therapy changed my entire life. I have been going since 2015 consistently and let me tell you this— I WILL GO UNTIL I DIE.
Struggle love is not love
That’s it.
Sometimes you are the problem
I always knew deep down inside that I was the problem in a lot of situations but baby I refused to speak it. I have learned that holding myself accountable is the highest form of self-awareness and extending myself grace as I process and correct my wrongs is the highest form of self-love.
Keeping something for yourself is the best policy
I have always been an open book to a degree. I love to be transparent so “No OnE CAn THrOW sHIT BaCK iN mY FaCe” headass. Girl, please. Keeping some things to the chest and being private is the best idea. Oversharing is not healthy and it’s not really needed. Social media, yeah I am going there, has made it easy for us to share the ins and outs of our lives CONSTANTLY. It’s not needed. It’s invasive. It’s just messy. We don’t have to tell it all to be real. We can be real and still keep something for ourselves. I don’t feel less authentic when I don’t give y’all my play by play anymore. I understand now that it is truly a waste of time and it gives people access they do not need or honestly deserve.
Some lessons are learned multiple times before they are LEARNED
Now, listen, this is that moment where you hear that sound after a bomb goes off and your ears start bleeding and everything is in slow motion. We are going to learn some things time and time and time and time again until we LEARN them. I mean I do not know how else to say this. I feel like my Aunt Irene has said this to me before and I probably ignored her but sis was right.
It’s not what you say but how you say it
As someone who is very direct and straightforward I can be experienced as aggressive. I am not. What I have learned is that it isn’t what I am saying it is my delivery. I have learned that I can still be direct while being compassionate and I can still be straightforward while extending grace. Once I understood this and applied it — people started to really pick up what the fuck I was putting down.
I know nothing at all
I have been writing for about 20 years now. I started with songs, then poems, then stories and now I am writing blog posts, academic articles, and curriculums. One thing I have learned is that I am a scholar and a student of life. I am also a teacher and a guide. Being these things has taught me that even when I think I know — I DO NOT know. That is what keeps me thirsty for knowledge and that what makes me want to learn more about people. Understanding that I do not know nothing at all makes it easier for me to admit when I am wrong and to understand when others admit that they are wrong. It forces me to embrace myself in my wrongness and try again. It gives me permission to feel everything and to experience everything in full color.
I hope that these resonate and if they don’t —that’s cool too. See y’all in 2020.
judgement day.
It’s been 160 days. That’s 5 months, 9 days, and 16 hours since I have touched this blog. No lie, I was on the verge of just deadin’ this shit and pretending it never happened but how? It would be physically impossible for me to stop doing the one thing that is possible no matter how sad I am, mad I am, defeated I am, etc. Writing is such a big part of my life and self-expression keeps me healing.
I am still not in remission yet but THAT is not the basis of this blog, judgment is. And I am not talking about judging myself, I am referring to that judging little chick inside my head that judges others. It is about time that I hold myself accountable. We all judge and quite frankly, when it comes to me, I am over it.
I want to work on accepting people for where they are and to understand that their freedom may present different than mine and that is OKAY. I am not the gatekeeper of self-development or getting free. As much as I love to empower others, I can think terrible things in my head and I am working day and night to change that. Judging others for their journey is not what I want to project. I want to cultivate understanding, compassion, grace.
So, this is my plan. Every single time I catch myself internally going “why are they ____?”, I ask myself “why not?”. Whenever I turn my nose up, I will try to go inward and ask myself “How does their happiness impact yours? IT DOESN’T”. Because who am I to determine what freedom, happiness, joy, overcoming, strength,looks like for anybody else? I have been doing this for about a week or so now and it is hard but for me, it is NEEDED.
We all have things we don’t get about others but that is okay. I want to accept others as I learn to accept myself. I want to judge others less as I learn to judge myself less. I want to embrace people where they are even if it’s from a distance as they embark on this journey like I am. The more I learn to accept the more I’ll learn to love.
brick house.
It’s taken me months to gather the energy to sit up, pull out my laptop, and type. I have been going through mental gymnastics with my creativity. I have so many ideas but no energy to write. It’s not because I don’t feel inspired or motivated, it’s because some days I physically cannot sit up, or walk, or dress myself, or drive, the list goes on. Hi, my name is Ka’Lyn and I have a chronic illness that has turned my world on its ass. I wrote my friend in Spain today these words and as soon as I wrote it I said, TODAY YOU WRITE, “It’s a battle that I’m fighting but I’m aware that recovery is not all rainbows & butterflies like social media wants it to be. It’s gritting and bearing through painful moments and scary thoughts while attempting to hold on to those small moments of relief and happiness.”
2018 has had its share of unfortunate events. It was almost as if I was the butt of an ugly joke that wouldn’t end. Loss of jobs, friends and family passing from Cancer, and on top of it all my chronic illness takes a turn. I have been suffering from this disease for almost 9 years now and I have never experienced anything like this. The undoing of my own strength, the horror of looking at myself naked, the burning of my very being from the inside out. I have unraveled. Going from being able-bodied to disabled in a matter of months is terrifying. Not being sure what the next treatment is or if it will work. Having to rearrange your entire life, your plans, and your relationships to make room for your new normal. Wondering if anyone has realized that recovery isn’t gumdrops and cotton candy. It’s not Instagram posts and the rallying of troops. It’s the undoing of who you were and the fight to become who you are supposed to be, a survivor.
I have survived many things during my trips around the sun. I am aware of trauma and have danced with it unwillingly for most of my life but this is different. I am watching myself come apart at the seams unable to control my own health, unable to fix myself like I fix everything else in my life. I have no control, I have no cure, I only have wavering patience, faith that comes and goes like a cool breeze, and hope attached to a piece of floss that I hold on to daily with a smile because I know what falling feels like.
Recovery according to the dictionary is gaining back something you lost but I don’t agree with that definition. This process hasn’t taught me to enjoy the little moments of joy in life, I already did that. It hasn’t taught me to keep my friends and family close, that’s been my mantra since conception. Recovery, to me, is the undoing. It is the grit, the pain, the hard days, the sleepless nights, the struggle for proper care in a world where your pain isn’t recognized as pain but complaints. It is fighting a fight with an invisible demon and even when you get knocked the fuck out you come to, dust yourself off, and fight again because you know what death tastes like and you know suicide is no longer an option. You have shit to do, you have to continue to get free, you have people to love on and people who love you. Recovery is being okay with not being okay and being okay with needing help emotionally, physically, financially. Recovery is having to ask for someone to clean your body, cook your food, pray for you, bring you snacks, call you sometimes, plan a visit, make space for you.
I have been undoing for months. Struggling alongside my husband some days afraid that one wrong move, medication, infection, depressive episode could be it. But luckily for me, I have tasted death before, it was bitter, it didn’t bring me the relief I thought it would. I still felt like shit after. Recovery has taught me the flexibility in discipline. Sometimes you just don’t have the gusto to be visibly strong and the “how are you” texts become suffocating, the doctor appointments turn into disappointments, and all you want to do is make it to bedtime. Then there are days, like today, where you say something to someone after crying as soon as your eyes open that gives you enough energy to type. Gives you that gusto to put down what you haven’t been able to express properly. Gives you that break.
This is my undoing. Am I okay? Hell no. I am in pain more so than not. Am I living? Yes! I use EVERYDAY to start over. If one day is bad, I deal with that and then the next day I wake up and try again because recovery for me isn’t a choice, it’s just something that is going to happen and I have to deal with it.
When it rains it pours but luckily for me I live in a brick house, with bulletproof windows, and the heart that understands that there is nothing that it cannot beat.