a forever
bond
3 Words: Best Friends
Month: October 2019
I break . . . sometimes.
sorry
I’m not always
the strength you
see in motion pictures
I have both soft
and hard edges
I’m fragile
I break . . . sometimes.
The Life I Gave Him
The Struggle Is Worth It
What does this picture say? I have an imagination that would bring itself back to life if it died, so instantly, I drum up a story. Who is this man? What is his story? What is his struggle? He stands, contemplating his next move, deep in thought, and utterly focused. What’s his background? I study him. I plant my eyes on an amazing creature and I think . . .
“What type of life can I create for him?”
He just received the crippling news from his wife — the small business loan they applied for through his local credit union two days ago was denied. For the last three years, they have prepped, devised a gameplan, created flyers, and reached out to local residents and business owners for sponsorship and the one thing that would help launch their small business was denied.
He thinks about their credit score, although not excellent, was in overall good standing — can’t be that. He thinks about their presence in their local neighborhood and both of them are upstanding citizens, well-known at their jobs and within their community — can’t be that. He stops to think about where they want to plant their small business and why and stays there with this thought for hours. For him and his wife, to have a recreational center in their urban neighborhood that also operates as an after-school tutorial location would be essential for many of the children who are struggling with their grades in school and who also need somewhere safe to be until their parents return home from work.
He stops to think about where they want to plant their small business and why and stays there with this thought for hours.
This was their dream. How could they deny it?
He huffs out a huge sigh and decides to cut work short and drive home early enough to beat the evening traffic. When he reaches home, his wife sits staring at the letter — a look of exhaustion is slapped on her face. She looks up to him and begins to sob. He gently takes the letter from her, glances over the first few lines, and then the beginning of the “rejection” paragraph . . .
He sits down, defeated. The word “other” never looked so incriminating, so . . . distorted. He read over the rejection letter three times before putting it back into its envelope and placing it in their important documents file cabinet. He made one phone call. His uncle mentioned three weeks ago that if, “there is anything I can do to help steer y’all in the right direction Roman, just let me know” — his memory picked up on that conversation and his pride was swiftly pushed to the side. If anyone understood the all-too-exhausting plight of entrepreneurship, it was his uncle.
One phone call, twenty-five minutes, and some joy-filled tears later, the dream that seemed as though it was crushed was instantly thrown back into manifestation. They would have their recreational center/after-school tutorial program after all. When he heard his uncle say, “Roman, that ain’t nothing, youngblood. I was rejected three times before I was approved and now, I am blessed beyond measure. You name your number and I’ll write that check.”
If anyone understood the all-too-exhausting plight of entrepreneurship, it was his uncle.
Six months later, he and his wife host twenty-two children, employ a staff of twelve and have garnered a profit instead of a loss. The rec center has provided their community with togetherness, a sense of belonging, and a positive atmosphere for the children. The work they do is fulfilling as well as substantial for not just them, but for everyone connected to them. When he looks at his wife now, her face glows — happiness lives in her eyes.
This was their dream.
It lived because it had to.
Originally published via Medium. The link shared is a friend link as this is a piece behind Medium’s paywall. Thank you for reading.
The Simple Things #7
Every Saturday, I will share three things that I believe to be the simple things in life, yet things that make me extremely happy. I invite you to do the same.
1. cool mornings
2. warm embraces
3. sweet love (how can it not give you joy?)
Now, it’s your turn! Share with me (in the comments), three simple things in life that make you happy. Please reblog, share this post, and give others a smile and a little bit of love. If you reblog the post, please ping or tag my blog and use the words “Simple Things” and “Happy” as your blog entry tags.
Are you ready, folks? Can we keep the love flowing by sharing the simple things that make us happy? This is our The Simple Things Share Post #7. Have fun and let the happiness begin!
Authors of SMITTEN Speak: Tremaine Loadholt
Be on the lookout for this amazing anthology including work by women who love women; we are SMITTEN.
Thank you to the Editors and managing writers, and anyone else who has helped to create this masterpiece and bringing it to life/light.
Tre L. Loadholt is a Writer/Editor located in Southeast US. She has been published in several literary journals, anthologies, and print magazines. She has also published three poetry books; Pinwheels and Hula Hoops, Dusting for Fingerprints, and A New Kind of Down. Her work can be found at https://acorneredgurl.com and https://medium.com/a-cornered-gurl.
How does poetry and identifying as lesbian/bi come together for you?
Poetry and being a bisexual woman come together for me just as a melody would to poignant lyrics for the soul. One does not exist without the other. Poetry is my love language–in most cases, it’s how I express myself. Thus, being poetical while being bisexual is a constant in-sync process, it is a truth that will more than likely be a lifelong fact.
How does being a poet inform your views on expressing emotions through writing?
I do not like to use the…
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The Building Blocks of Me
Stepping Out of Fear’s Shadow
The crows caw and squawk outside my window. It’s a beautiful, sunny Sunday morning and Jernee and Nala are quiet. They are resting while I work. The weekends are designated days for in-depth writing, reading, listening to music, soul-searching, and growth. I am learning how to shed old skin and create positive energy spaces for myself once again. I lost the sense of me a long time ago. I allowed fear, rejection, one-sided relationships, and false senses of love to rule over me. In the throes of sadness and pain, we can become fickle beings, even more than we already are.
I am learning how to shed old skin and create positive energy spaces for myself once again.
Opportunities are presenting themselves and instead of swatting at them because I do not know what agreeing to them will bring, I am saying, “Yes!” to open doors and walking through them. I always sit with something new for assessment purposes — to understand and research it thoroughly before committing. Quick decision-making can go two ways: good or bad. I’d like to aim for more good outcomes than bad and I have done this for the most part.
I am setting up my life as I would building blocks. Every new aspect, change, or decision is becoming a tool for growth and my future. I have goals set and many of them, I am planning to accomplish before the end of 2020. I have curbed my spending, devoted more time to reading and writing, and focused on building a brand. If I do not get a headstart on my future now, I may never do so. Once time has passed you by, it doesn’t circle back around to collect you on the rebound — it is ready, even if you are not.
The crows squawk again. There are five of them. One seems to lead the others into a cawing fest as I attempt to drown them out. Nature will not step aside because you need silence. The wind does not know its whistle disrupts your thinking process. The rain has no forethought of your plans to pen three articles before dinnertime. It is up to you to stay focused and get the work done.
I am my own pep squad.
While alone at home, I have to take mini breaks for moments of encouragement. If I do not do this, the work suffers. And at this point in my life, I cannot let the work suffer. When I think about the possibility of shifting from 40-hour weeks to 30-hour weeks, maintaining a strong writing base, and studying methods to enhance and hone my craft, there is no time for suffering. I sing to myself. I say delightful phrases and aphorisms. I make myself believe that everything I envision, along with prayer and patience, will manifest itself into being. I am my own pep squad and I cheer myself on wholeheartedly.
Support: It drives me.
The Merriam-Webster dictionary defines support as follows: the act or process of supporting: the condition of being supported. (n)
I know how important support is: familial, by way of readers, and friend-based. I have grown from it. I appreciate it. It is what keeps me going on my worst days. If it were not for support, I could not be a writer. What I have gained in the sense of love, understanding, kindness, and acceptance, has come in vast amounts from support. From the day I began putting my work online until now, I have needed support and I have gotten it.
I sing to myself. I say delightful phrases and aphorisms. I make myself believe that everything I envision, along with prayer and patience, will manifest itself into being.
I am stepping out of fear’s shadow. I made the decision a few weeks ago and since then, even though my limbs shake and my stomach gets queasy, I press forward. I want to know what I can do — what I will allow myself to do if I remove myself from the harmful grip of fear. Some fear is good. It can be a reminder. There are things in life that require you to be fearful of them so you will not bring harm to yourself or others. I am mindful of this type of fear. It keeps me safe. It keeps my loved ones safe too.
“Fear is a feeling that is internal and is conscience.” — Dr. Mary D. Moller
“It arises when sensory systems in the brain have determined an external stimulus poses a threat. Outputs of threat detection circuits trigger a general increase in brain arousal and can result in altered threat processing: fear and anxiety disorders.” — Jaime Rosenberg
The fear I speak of is that clutching fear that barks at you to not do something because it’s bigger than you — to step back and away from infinite possibilities. It cripples you, stirs up anxiety, and causes your body to shift and change along with this emotion. This fear will not have my attention anymore. I am setting boundaries and it is not welcome. Am I frightened? Hell yes! But I will not remain in that mode. If I cannot move past the scary bits in life, how will I ever know what can be?
With each passing day, I urge myself to do something a bit more difficult than the previous one and for me, this is a massive accomplishment. I am taking a personal stand against what fear has done to me and what I have allowed it to do. Reprogramming my brain regarding this emotion will take time, but I refuse to sit back and continue to do nothing. There is a life that I envision waiting for me and I intend to experience it.
I am taking a personal stand against what fear has done to me and what I have allowed it to do.
These are the building blocks of me and with every step, I am changing.
Originally published via Medium. The link shared is a friend link as this an article behind Medium’s paywall. This article is also curated by Medium Editors and featured in the “Self” content tab for Medium.
A Cornered Gurl 
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