This past Sunday, I was kinda feeling myself. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt
The audio below is probably one of the most sincere and dearest things to me that I have ever shared here on WordPress or on any other writing platform, for that matter. Take heed–it is lengthy. I appreciate your patience. If you stick with it until the end, I applaud you. Thank you in advance for listening.
Have you gotten your copy of Séduire: Serial Tales & Flash Fiction at Lulu in E-Book& Paperback versions, or Amazon in Paperback(only) yet?
I am on Substack as well. Poking the Bear’s Belly for Fun is a place of healing as I speak aboutrecent events with a previous place of employment, as it pertains to racism and discrimination, growth from the transition after resigning from that company, and life’s foibles and overall experiences. I welcome your visit.
4 photos of me through four different phases/years of my life. Photo collage created by Tremaine L. Loadholt
If you have ever been trapped within your own body — a prisoner of it, living life the way you thought you were supposed to, then you will know a little about this story. There is nothing freer than the day you learn to release yourself from the fear that bound you to silence, and you open up your mouth to share who you actually are — who you have always been. There was no day more freeing than the day I came out publicly — sharing my bisexuality with friends, family, and Medium.
The timing was perfect — I couldn’t sit on the fine details of my life any longer, and waiting seemed senseless. I love who I am. And those who love me stuck around. Those who I thought loved me never did.
Love’s freedom is you Soaring high in your own skin Unafraid to live
I am not perfect. I never will be. But perfection is never what I sought in life. It still isn’t. I only wanted to live freely, unbound to chains or shackles of what society held for me — what religiosity said I should be. I can breathe and simply be without the dark spaces of a closet keeping me company. My family — knowing before I could utter the words — love me still. My friends, most in tune with my vibe before I could share my truth — care about my existence.
I have never been happier to be me than I am right now. And the shift that took place in my life because of it is something I will never forget.
Doubt has been erased I am still so beautiful With or without you
Just because they say we’re “free” doesn’t mean it’s actually so. But we celebrate what should have been our freedom, what could have been our freedom, what was meant to be our freedom. When we’re all free, then freedom will make sense.
not everything needs a story it’s possible to want justice without being seen as angry and you’re damned right I’m angry when our justice is perverted time and again, and again you fixate on the anger spinning a yarn about the irrational response of us ungrateful thugs
the ones you want to linger beneath the soles of your feet will be the very ones who you’ll beg to add more days onto your life. and when the Maker calls your number, I will play bailiff, executing all plans for your demise. and the difference between you and I will be that I had nothing to do with it.
make your presence known in other ways. show this world that there is so much more to living than constantly trying to flaunt your privileges in my face OR belittling me every chance you get. “when they go low, we go high,” and it must feel like shit watching angels scale the skies while you reach into your pockets for God-status and pull up lint instead
not everything needs a label it’s possible to seek solitude without being tagged as arrogant I look inward for serenity I demand airspace to be me authentically free from the box you cram to shove me in I guess I’m arrogant enough to exist in stout defiance of your weights and measures
not everything needs approval it’s possible to just want to breathe without society constricting airflow or to share life, laughter with a lover without enraging a stranger lording bizarre, anachronistic, dogmatic views I wish to seek the warmth of the sun free from fear of fatalistic reprisal because I fit some unsavory description or I love in a way that you don’t
and, I’ve watched you, watching me– you want me to be this robotic thing intent on following your lead: no disputes, no disagreements, and no opinion of my own, and losing the biggest part of me is not something I am willing to do. this frustrates you . . . it digs into places of your soul that you aren’t willing to share and I have fun witnessing your strength dwindle to mere nothingness since it feeds off hate. ***
This is a collaboration with my homie and long-time collaborator, Barry. Please, visit his blog and enjoy his genius mind.
A Cornered Gurl 
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