Lessons.

Hey y’all. I know, I know … where the hell have I been right? Listen .. ya girl had a moment, relapsed and got her little feelings hurt but I’m back now and ANOTHER lesson has been learned. When I finally came out of my funk, I realized I had neglected the thing I love to do most and that’s write. Hell, I didn’t even know what I wanted or needed to write about until now. 

I celebrated my Freedom Anniversary (as I like to call it) on May 28, 2021 as it had been a year since the day I finally chose myself. Since that day, I have been up and down emotionally but learning consistently. I’ve decided to share a few of those lessons with you.

Lesson #1: Nobody is coming.

Listen y’all as this is one of the toughest lessons I had to learn … 

NOBODY IS COMING. 

Nobody is coming to save you, nobody is coming to help you, nobody is coming to pick you up. Nobody. YOU have to be there for your own self. YOU have to be the one who picks themselves up off the floor after you fall. It’s YOU, baby. YOU have to be your own savior. This was one hell of a lesson for me as someone who has been a savior all her life. I was always the one who was quick to jump whenever someone needed me. It took me being in the darkest chapter of my life to realize that it was up to me to free myself. It was up to me to love myself. It was up to me to heal myself because unlike the fairytales, there is no knight in shining armor.

Learning that nobody was coming to save me helped me learn how to depend on myself and not others. It helped me to rely on myself and have faith within myself. It taught me that I was capable of doing much more than I believed I could. It taught me that I was stronger than I thought. It taught me to focus on my cup, my plate, hell MY table, only because at this moment in life, I’m the only one who I’m worried about having a seat at my table.

Lesson #2: Be Patient.

If anyone knows me, they know one of my biggest flaws is my impatience. Soon as my Freedom Anniversary hit, I was like YES, I’M HEALED! Let’s date. Chileeeeeee .. thee absolute ghetto. Who said the dating pool has pee in it? On everything, they did NOT lie but let me elaborate on this a bit before I sound like I’m bashing men.

After spending an entire year with myself and Ace’s ass (my puppy, for those who do not know), I was ready to venture out and meet new people. Unfortunately, I rushed myself and literally forgot everything I had learned because bayyybeeee, those rose colored glasses were on AGAIN. It was in that moment that I opened myself up, forgetting all boundaries and no sooner than later, God was poppin’ me on the back of my neck with his chancla while saying DIDN’T I TELL YOU through gritted teeth.

That setback woke me TF up. I had to check in with myself and realize I was rushing again. You know how hard it is to want something so bad but you keep getting told you can’t have it yet? Trust me, I know this feeling all too well. This feeling and my impatience led me to a lot of the fuck shit I’ve dealt with in my life. I finally told myself to take my foot off the gas and just coast for a bit. I needed to continue learning myself and what it is that I truly want and don’t want because I do want to be a girlfriend again. I actually want to be a wife one day … I just want to be a happy one.

Lesson #3: Establish boundaries and BE FIRM with them.

Boundaries are something that have been foreign to me my entire life. It was because of my lack of boundaries that I’ve experienced some of the hardest lessons. In my codependent and abandoned mind, I felt boundaries were a bad thing because they kept people away. After being abandoned by my biological father as a child, I held tight to people … no matter how unhealthy their presence was. I feared being left but that was all that had been happening after individuals got what they came to receive.

It was at the tender age of 32 that I realized boundaries weren’t a wall that kept people away. Boundaries were indeed a wall but they were a wall of protection. For so many years, I neglected to protect that bright eyed and innocent four year old. It took exploring my inner child in therapy for me to realize that I’ve been conditioned to this behavior because I’ve never felt safe.  It was at this moment that I realized I had been living in survival mode for so long. What I thought was my personality was actually a full blown defense mechanism. I’m not a “hard” person. I’m not an “angry” person. Sure, I’m quite the asshole at times with my quick wit and sarcasm but in all actuality, I’m sensitive as shit. Like a true Aquarius though, I’d rather die than be that transparent, LOL.

I still struggle with holding tight to my boundaries but lately, they have been doing me justice. I still feel like I’m in survival mode because the only time I feel safe is when I’m in the comforts of my own home with myself. Boundaries are my security blanket as of right now. They’re keeping me and allowing me to be me as I continue to learn me. The best part about this journey has been finding myself and loving myself, being attentive to my needs, and being in control of my emotions. If you say I’ve changed, my response to you would be … about time.

Stranger In My House.

Day in and day out, I wake up to this woman. I fall asleep to this woman. I leave my home and return to her presence. Hell, she tends to even tag along at times. She’s like a fly in my ear at a barbecue, just buggin’ TF out of me. Her walk. Her talk. Her high yellow ass walks around like her shit don’t stink. Head all high with that damn smirk on her face and that one eyebrow raised. Phone rings, she got the nerve to look at the screen and put it back down like she can’t be bothered. The moment she opens her mouth, you’d assume she was a sailor. Cuss words coming from both sides of her mouth without a filter in sight. She has this confidence about her that’s too loud for me and I believe others are starting to feel it too.

Truthfully, she seems like a woman who’s unapologetic in who she is. She knows she’s made mistakes in her life and she’s held herself accountable. From those mistakes, she’s learned. She’s learned who is really there for her and who isn’t. She’s learned how to say “no” without further explanation. She’s learned to set boundaries and stand firm in them. What really trips me out is how she acts like she doesn’t need anybody. I guess you can say she’s learned how to enjoy her own company but if you ask me, I think she’s just gotten to be “too good”. She done removed the wool from her eyes and started seeing people for who they really were … now she’s out here, just cuttin’ everybody off. I mean who does she think she is? We all need somebody, right?

Honestly speaking, she’s who I’ve always wanted to be … who I was scared to be. I used to make myself smaller for others to feel comfortable. I used to belittle others with false confidence to make myself feel comfortable. She exudes love yet leaves plenty for herself. I admire and envy the way she loves herself loudly whereas I’ve looked for love in all the wrong people, just trying to fill that void. What I envy most about her now is her lack of fear. Whatever she thinks or feels, she does. She doesn’t ask for validation. She doesn’t look for reassurance. She just does it. She seems so free and that’s what I’ve always wanted out of life … freedom.

I always kept myself so confined in my comfort zone, never thinking I was able or capable of the things she’s accomplished. I was scared to go through the things she went through to get where she is now. I can only imagine what life came to look like for her once she removed those rose colored glasses. I cringe at the thought … it sometimes even brings tears to my eyes. Yet still, I wanted to be her.

It wasn’t until one evening, I was having one of my crying sessions, locked away in the bathroom though no one else lives with me. The bathroom always served as my safe space. She opened the door without knocking and I saw her hand reach into the darkness where I was. I sniffled and she said, “it’s okay little one. Come on out.” As I crept closer to the light, her face came into view and the stranger was …

Me.

Comfort Zone is Dead Soil.

This piece has not been edited or revised. This is literally my thoughts on paper (or keyboard, for that matter) as they form in my head. Enjoy the ride!

We are about a month and a half into 2021 and I must say … this shit is starting off pretty damn good *runs around knocking on every piece of wood I can find.* Though I still have my days, this internal work and healing is starting to pay off. Today I was sitting on my couch, sipping my tea and while driving down my boulevard of thoughts, I happened to look to the side and say to myself, “Self … are we happy?” Like, I really had to look around and think, “Is this contentment?” Trust, there is probably plenty of shit I can complain about but I just choose not to. So yeah, let me get to the topic at hand to help y’all understand how I got here.

Comfort zones. I have always been a fan of comfort zones until recently. Growing up, I was a full blown tomboy. I was comfortable in my jeans, tshirts, hoodies, and the newest pair of Jordans that had just been released.  I think the most girly thing about me might have been my joy in getting my nails done, Coko from SWV style. I floated through high school that way until I met my first REAL boyfriend. Even then, I still had no idea how to be “girly.” To this day, my “beat face” is some eyeliner, mascara, concealer, and lipstick/gloss. It does not go beyond that sis because I have no idea what the hell I am doing. I do actually want to learn how to do makeup though so please, if you’re reading this and you got tips, help a sister out. Please though, don’t let that tip be “just buy some makeup and go play in it.” So you want me to look like Pennywise’s illegitimate lovechild out here, huh? Don’t do that.

Moving on, this trend of non-girly shit followed me all the way to college. In my freshman year of college, I still had not a clue how to dress, do my hair, or anything of that nature. Think I’m lying? See the pic in the collage below of what I wore to my first speed dating event my freshman year. Don’t scroll now, finish reading first … RUDE. Anyways, as I was saying …

This is where my problem lied. I wasn’t confident in myself whatsoever. I chose to “play it safe” as I wasn’t comfortable doing anything that I did not feel okay doing. I told you a few posts ago that “sexy” and “Shayna” did NOT go together. Why? I did not feel good about myself!!! I sought validation from others and I was not giving it to myself. I was scared to step out of my comfort zone because I was nervous of what others would think. I treated my size as a hinderance for me to do things. I’m not even going to lie, I still have my moments of hesitancy because that little bitch “doubt” likes to creep her ass up on me from time to time. I had to let her know NOT TUHDAY SIS!

2021 is when I decided to make changes for myself. I started truly investing in myself. I was already in therapy (checks that off the list). I purchased a self love planner and the first assignment was to write a love letter to myself. I believe that was the task that really set shit into play for me. I wrote it and when I finished, there were some tears but they were happy tears because I finally told MYSELF all the things I was looking to hear from others and IT FELT GOOD. Though we in a panny, I started venturing out and doing activities SOLO DOLO. My first solo activity was a socially distanced speed dating event and BRUH, the social anxiety wasn’t nothing to play with. Still, I went and I enjoyed myself. Though I didn’t meet the love of my life, I went out and allowed myself to meet new people and interact without the comfort of having a friend with me. 

The next event for me to step out of my comfort zone was a Valentine’s Day COED Sexy Lingerie & Pajama Party hosted by my big sister. I was all for it until I realized, “Bitch! You about to be ass out … IN FRONT OF MEN?!?!?” ***inserts dramatics*** My anxiety started kicking in. My overthinking started rearing her ugly ass head and I was losing it. It wasn’t until I was driving there and listening to music did I think, “Girl, you got this. You bout to look good as FAWK in this red lingerie!” Here’s where my confidence decided to exit stage left … PICTURE TIME. I looked the part but when it came time to pose, I was somewhat lost or if I did do anything, I felt awkward. Still, I pushed forward and honey, I DELIVERED! My sister, the other girls and even some of the guys were complimenting me. Did it feel good? Yes. Was I also screaming internally and anxious to take it all off? YES! LOL. I changed into a nice onesie and my soul was at ease.

Moral of the story is … step out of your comfort zone because life begins at the end of your comfort zone. We hinder ourselves from truly experiencing what life has to offer. Shit, we even hinder ourselves from reaching our full potential when we sit and “play it safe.” I told myself I can’t keep playing it safe because it leaves me stuck with no progression. My anxiety and overthinking has stopped me from doing so many things because of fear of opinions. I had to realize that what doesn’t challenge you, doesn’t change you. Try doing something that scares you everyday and watch how things begin to unfold. 

Step out of your comfort zone, baby … Nothing grows there.

Butterfly.

As the shit storm of 2020 comes to a close, I know there are a lot of us who are anxiously anticipating 2021 as we have hopes that things go back to “normal.” I am one of the few who is perfectly fine with my new normal and I have no want nor need to return to what I thought was normal.


2020 is the year where God finally took His chancla off and popped me in the back of the neck and head … repeatedly … until I received the sign I asked Him for so often.


I never looked at myself as a strong woman … I honestly just felt like I was built to endure. It wasn’t until I recently posted a before and after on social media had I realized the strength I was capable of. Most saw that post as a weight loss testimony … I saw it as my healing testimony. For so long I considered myself to be broken but I recently learned that true healing couldn’t commence if I continued to let myself be defined by my scars.


2020 taught me to stop playing victim to circumstances I put myself in or circumstances I even created. My therapist told me today that all of us will play three roles in our lives: the heartbreaker, the heartbroken and the fool. I immediately went to make my rebuttal until I humbled myself and said girl, you’ve broken some hearts. After getting my heart broken this year, I packed up all my hurt and ran right to what was familiar to me for the past 15 years. When it comes to my first love, I’m like a moth to a flame though my first love was my first heartbreak. It was in this moment that I became the heartbreaker and had to take accountability for my own actions. I was kindly told to get the fuck on and figure out what it is that I want. Though I was hurt and upset, I took heed to what was said, grabbed my hurt bag and went along my way. To this day, I hold a thousand apologies but a “sorry” doesn’t hold the same weight as a bandaid.


Bag lady. This is who I was for quite some time though I began to realize it wasn’t just my own bag that I was lugging around. I was carrying around so many bags that did not belong to me and wondered why I was constantly tired. I had to learn to let shit go and actually leave it where I left it. Those bags always contained the thoughts and opinions of others, and it’s this weight that I’m most proud of losing.


I’ve lived my life for so long, constantly questioning and second guessing myself … constantly doubting my own damn magic. I could talk a good one but my walk told a completely different story. These last few months of 2020, I learned to create space for myself and bask in it with … myself. I like to think of this space as my own personal cocoon. I curled up in this cocoon and began sorting out my shit. I acknowledged my wrongs and held myself accountable. I acknowledged my own toxicity and held myself accountable. I acknowledged my own trauma and sought help without assurance from anyone but myself. In this cocoon, I humbled myself and began to start over.


I look at pictures of myself now and can’t help but be so wholeheartedly in love with myself. When you’ve spent a majority of your life unhappy with the skin you’re in, finding that self love is such an exhilarating moment. Please believe, there is still work to be done. Healing never stops … it continues as new scars will develop as we experience more of life’s bumps and valleys. Instead of watching every step I take, scared of what cracks I may trip over, I glide … hell, I even feel like I’m flying sometimes because I’m no longer worrying about what will happen next. When butterflies emerge from their cocoon, they’re not hesitant or nervous. They stretch those wings and leap right off that branch … leaving the cocoon of their past behind.

We delight in the beauty of the butterfly but rarely admit the changes it has gone through to achieve that beauty. – Maya Angelou 🦋

Growth.

Ever drove by a garden and saw there was one flower that was taller than the rest? Ever sat at a table and realized you no longer had an appetite for what was being served?

In life, we go through many phases and most of the time, we don’t have a name for these phases … these chapters. Hell, I can’t say how many times I’ve named this current chapter that I’m in, LOL. First, it was self, then it was healing, and then it was self-love … the list goes on. Ultimately, I landed on “Growth” today so bear with me because the shit might change tomorrow.

Lately, I’ve been catching myself in moments where I look around my place and I think to myself, damn … you’re alone again. It’s not too soon before those moments change and I bask in the feeling of my own company. The truth is I love being alone, I just don’t like feeling alone. Through these moments though, I have come to realize that I wholeheartedly enjoy the solace and peace my own company brings.

See, the “old Shayna” as I like to refer to her as, didn’t like to be alone. She didn’t like to upset anyone but she consistently did herself a disservice when she would lie and tell everyone, “I’m fine”. She often wore a mask of the woman she aspired to be … a woman who was strong, witty and took no shit. I think that’s the Shayna everyone had come to know and love until I lost myself. The “old Shayna” began to sink deeper and deeper behind the mask, keeping up a facade of strength and bravery when she was really scared, fragile, and tired. She stayed behind that mask for as long as she could until the pieces began to chip away the more and more she broke. She was hoping for a savior … for someone to help her with her own broken pieces but she’d worn this mask for so long that everyone thought she was fine. She finally realized that it was time to take the mask off, it was time to put the cape on and be her own hero.

Healing requires growth and lately I have been standing firm, damn near wiggling my toes in the dirt as I root myself. The “old Shayna” is buried beneath my feet and ain’t no resurrection for little miss “I don’t have boundaries because I want people to stay around.” Well let me tell y’all, the “growing Shayna” (ooo, I like that) has established boundaries and there are some people who absolutely HATE it!!! What “old Shayna” didn’t realize was a lack of boundaries invited a lack of respect. Having no boundaries caused people to take advantage of her and mistreat her, and there are some people who really believed that shit was going to continue. Well excuse me but this growth applies to YOU too! When someone is growing, you’re not exempt from the newness that they’re walking in but to those people, the old you was easier to manipulate and manage. Who the hell do you think you are letting them know what you won’t tolerate anymore?! What’s that quote say y’all?

“I don’t care what I allowed in the past … TRY ME TODAY!”

I tell y’all this because it’s time to start advocating for ourselves, being there for ourselves, and pouring into ourselves. It’s also important to start being honest with ourselves. Pretending to be okay when you’re not doesn’t just hurt but it’s absolutely exhausting. When you’re growing, you will realize that you are outgrowing old habits and even people but please be advised that you are NOT wrong for that. It’s not your fault if there isn’t anyone who wants to grow with you. Some journeys are best taken alone. 

Take your mask off and don’t be like the “old Shayna” because …

I was a caterpillar talking butterfly shit when I hadn’t even begun to spin my cocoon yet.

Disappointments.

I know, I know y’all … it’s been awhile since I’ve dropped a few words but the real can’t be forced. When I write, I usually grab a notebook and write my thoughts down as a rough draft before I type and publish my work. Tonight, I decided to set the mood by lighting some of my KullturedKandy candles and pour a glass of wine … then sitting myself down and just flowing.

I decided to title this piece, “Disappointments”, because in life, we all have experienced them. They say having expectations leads to disappointments and damn, if that ain’t the truth. In this chapter, not only am I learning that I can’t control the outcome of situations in my life but I am also learning it is okay to be the disappointment in the chapters of others.

Having someone disappointed in me used to unsettle me. I wouldn’t feel as though I was performing as my best self unless I was doing something for someone. Previously I mentioned to you all my issues with codependency and in unlearning this behavior, I am also learning to wholeheartedly not give a fuck … just flow (April Nichole, @NikkiesThoughts). I used to care so much that it would be to my own detriment. Now, I am so focused on the betterment of myself that I truly do not have the urge to please anyone.

When you are becoming comfortable in being a disappointment, you realize your interactions with people will change. Lately, I’ve noticed in my interactions with some people, many of them are still stuck on the “old Shayna.” The Shayna from the past who was apologetic even though she had nothing to be sorry for … the Shayna who consistently poured into others though her cup was empty … the Shayna who accepted apologies she never received … the Shayna who loved others more than she loved herself.

I recently had someone tell me that I had a history of not telling the truth and to their credit, they were right. Did I get upset with that statement? Not at all because honestly … that was the past. I can’t be mad at someone who is still stuck there and doesn’t want to take the time to see my growth. 2007, 2012, 2016, 2019 Shayna is not the same woman who now sits in 2020. I recently had someone tell me I was a horrible friend because I don’t answer calls or text messages anymore. Honestly, they’re right. If I know there is something coming to disturb my peace, I will not receive it … at least, not until I am ready to. If I know there is someone coming to receive and not reciprocate, I do not accept them into my space.

I am learning it is okay to not always show up for everyone. It’s not okay to not show up for yourself. I am learning that it is not my obligation to fix nor heal everyone. I had to wake up and realize that I was slacking in my boundaries … slacking in using my voice to acknowledge my wants and needs. I was so used to being a giver that I wouldn’t voice when my cup was empty and needed a refill. RECIPROCITY … I’m not giving you no more than you giving me. This isn’t to say I no longer care about certain people .. this is to say, “Yes, I want the best for you but not to my detriment!” (April Nichole, @NikkiesThoughts).

Some people aren’t going to accept your growth. For most people, it’s more comfortable for them leaving you right where they left you at … in the past. Especially when your past self was easier to deal with .. easier to manage and easier to use to their benefit. There are some people in my life who have noticed my growth and have acknowledged it. I have been told on many occasions that the light has returned to my eyes and my smile. I thank you all so much but please believe me when I say, this is only the beginning because …

 

I’M ABOUT TO LIGHT THIS MUHFUCKA UP!!

Forgiveness.

Before getting my sexy back, I spoke with y’all about experiencing different chapters in our lives. For those of us who are committed readers, how many happy endings did you come to before reading about the villain who came and fucked everything up? How many of us can actually acknowledge that sometimes we’re the villain in our own stories?

Through this transition, I’ve been doing a lot of self reflection, as I frequently do. I’ve never been the type of person to label myself as a victim or to even carry the title proudly as some do. I realized while processing my current chapter that I’ve been the villain in my own story on a few occasions. Many of the recent traumas I experienced were because I allowed them to happen and this revelation has lead me to kicking myself in my own ass … beating myself up for allowing such bullshit to not only occur but continue.

Now, I’m no longer beating myself up. I’m accepting the lessons I decided to learn the hard way and forgiving myself as well.

I forgive myself for losing myself while helping others find themselves.

I forgive myself for trying to be the peacemaker even though being the peacemaker isn’t always peaceful.

I forgive myself for meeting someone at their potential rather than accepting their reality.

I forgive myself for settling for less than I deserved.

I forgive myself for thinking I deserved less.

I forgive myself for doubting my self worth.

I forgive myself for feeling as though it was my obligation to heal someone.

I forgive myself for placing myself and my feelings second to others.

I forgive myself for being a rehabilitation center for others instead of using my own tools to rehabilitate myself.

I saw a meme that said “no one tells you this but the healing hurts more than the wound” and I’ll be damned if that ain’t the truth. Your healing is your responsibility. There’s going to be the good parts, the bad, and the ugly … because when I cry, I give Taraji a run for her money with the ugly cry LOL. It’s all apart of the process though … you can’t skip these parts and don’t try to as you’re only hindering your process. Keep pushing y’all … and forgive yourself because there ain’t one of us out here who’s perfect.

Bringing Sexy Back.

Today I saw a quote on Facebook that said “Being called ugly all your life then having people attracted to you in adulthood is weird”, and I immediately felt that. Growing up, I was always chubby, heavy set, overweight … whatever the hell they wanted to call it. I never knew what it felt like to be desired or wanted in middle school and high school. My tomboy ass was on the basketball team and rocked straight back cornrows like I was Cleo in Set It Off. I rocked Jordans like it was my job and the most girly thing about me were my SWV nails, LOL.

Life changed when I got to college and I started receiving compliments which I couldn’t take to save my life. One of those compliments were “sexy.” My awkward ass didn’t know ANYTHING about being sexy. SEXY?! I was the type who would try winking at a dude and ended up blinking but each eye was delayed. Embarrassing much? Lap dance? HA! Excuse me while I fall over your legs and step on your toes .. SEND HELP SOMEBODY! I need Meg the Stallion’s knees!

Reclaiming your “sexy” is no easy task, especially after a bad relationship or a string of bad relationships where your confidence took a hit. Remember last week when I spoke about chapters … well, bringing sexy back is apart of my “self” chapter. I recently spent a weekend with my sister tribe and we enjoyed some libations and laughs. Apart of the soirée was to wear some sexy lingerie and I, for one, have never wore sexy lingerie. First of all, some of the shit be complicated as hell. Where does this string go? This snaps to what? F*ck it, be happy my bra and panties match sir 😂

I am in a space where I get sexy for myself and I let my definition of “sexy” be what it is. I’m awkward and I’m funny therefore that’s what comes along with my “sexy.” Sometimes I will prance around my apartment by myself in my little sexy numbers with music playing and wine in my glass. When I pass by a mirror, I hit reverse and say, “DAMN GIRL … YOU KILLIN’ EM!” I say all of this to say, embrace your sexy again ladies. Do it for yourself and enjoy it because regardless of your size or shape, you look good girl! Don’t you EVER forget it!

In conclusion, I can write some sexy shit so I’m blessing y’all with a little something …

 

BEG ME

There he stood, with eyes glaring at me from behind black-rimmed glasses and a smirk on his face.
Meanwhile I stood before him, motionless and wondering how on Earth did I get to this place?
I’ve fought these feelings, this temptation … date after date,
Thinking back to that movie like “90 days girl, make him wait.”
But the sexual tension began to build higher than the wall I’ve made,
and the anxiousness I’ve been feeling, I can no longer escape.
He took a step forward and pulled me into his chest,
so close I could smell the cologne he wore through his vest.
Our eyes met where I could see his lust and desire,
my breathing quickened, preparing for what was about to transpire.
He grabbed the back of my neck as our lips met,
and our tongues danced as my hands tugged at his pants.
He broke our kiss and released me suddenly,
as I stood there … hot, bothered, and ready.
”Tell me what you want,” he said as he walked over and sat on the bed.
”I want you to fuck me”, I replied, looking directly in his eyes.
He smiled and laid back with his hands behind his head and said, “I want you to beg.”
I walked over to him and sat myself on his lap as I pulled him up and wrapped my legs around his back.
He grabbed me by the hair, pulling my head back as I heard the hooks of my bra unsnap.
My neck was exposed and the trail he left with his tongue to my earlobe resulted in the curling of my toes.
I couldn’t fathom some of the sensations he’s awakened,
as he licks and blows, my body shivers with every breath that I take in.
As he continued his assassination of my will, the urge increased for my juices to spill.
I could no longer withstand his tease and the last thing I remember as he slid his fingers in me was my moaning voice cry out …

 

PLEASE!

Chapters.

I think it’s safe to refer to myself as a writer now but what I’ve always been is a reader. To me, there’s nothing like a good book to sit down and get lost in. A truly good book would have you wanting to skip ahead because certain chapters were taking too long. This is what I’ve been doing in my own story.

I don’t believe in New Years resolutions. If I made a resolution, it was always to lose weight and would end up in an epic fail LOL. Instead of having a resolution, I would consider the new year a new chapter in my life and I’d name it. For the past few years, I’ve been naming chapters “Self” over and over again because I screwed up the story the chapter before.

I was constantly naming chapters “Self” because I kept telling myself, this is the part of my story where it’s going to be solely about me … and it wouldn’t be. I kept trying to skip this chapter and get to the good part because writing your own story without any supporting characters is outright hard. I never thought being the main character of my own story would be so lonely. In most good books, (well the romance ones I read) the main character has some type of hero that swoops in and saves the day … saves the story.

In life, we have to realize that we are the authors of our own stories. We can’t look for that hero to come and change the storyline. The pen is always in our hands therefore we’re in control. I know some of us would prefer writing our stories in pencil so we can erase the mistakes. I have plenty of mistakes that I wish I could erase but it’s those mistakes that make the story worth turning the page.

From now on, I’m writing my story in pen … without hesitation. I’m not perfect so the mistakes will continue to be made meaning the lessons will continue to be learned. I’ve decided to take a break off the “Love” chapter. I can always go back to that … when I’m ready. In this part of the story, I’m just going to keep writing and hopefully the main character of Shayna will continue to grow. Keep turning the pages … there is more to come.

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Time Heals All.

How many of us can actually say we give ourselves time to heal? How often do we engage in the healing process after we’ve experienced a traumatic or life-altering event? Do we take the necessary steps? Do we rush it or do we just completely ignore the whole thing and act as if it never happened?

I can confidently say I’m one of those people who never actually engaged in healing. I either rushed the process or acted like the event never happened. I was the type to experience a heartbreak then jump head first into another shitty ass situation … just making the same mistakes I had before. Ignoring the red flags I was well aware of and just focusing on the “love” I had been longing for.

I’m currently in a healing process and I’m doing things differently this time around. With that being said, I am uncomfortable as all hell. How does someone who never put themselves first learn this new behavior of being selfish? How does someone who had barely any boundaries now start drawing lines in front of people they used to feel they couldn’t live without? … with time, patience, and work!

I’ll be the first to say I’m an impatient person. I despise waiting .. especially for something I dearly want and feel I deserve. Being impatient though is what’s gotten me into situations that I had no business in. I’d be in those situations and have the patience of a saint yet the whole time, I was unhappy. Unhappy and thinking, “If I give it more time, things will change.” Stupid, right? Hey, we’ve all been there before but hopefully, a lightbulb has went off for some of us and we realize it’s time for a change. There are also those of us who are hard learners and think, “let me try this a third or fourth time, JUST TO BE SURE.”

Change is uncomfortable but growth is apart of the process. Don’t stay in a situation because to you, it has become your new “normal.” There’s nothing normal about being unhappy. There’s nothing normal about losing yourself and settling for the bare minimum. The healing process will not always be fun. Hell, it’s a rollercoaster ride with times where you feel yourself heading up, anticipating what’s at the top. Then suddenly, you hit a drop and you’re just screaming while you plummet and hope you don’t hit the bottom. Embrace it .. the uncomfortable and the ugly because in the end, a beautiful butterfly breaks out of the cocoon. If this healing process thus far has taught me anything, it’s taught me that putting me first isn’t selfish … it’s necessary.

Heal first … love can wait but self … cannot.” – Moore or Less