I follow her on Medium as well as LinkedIn. I do so because her voice is a powerful one, and she advocates for self-love, self-care, anti-racism, and anti-ableism, among some other important causes near and dear to me.
I am not big on listening to podcasts or watching a large number of TED Talk videos, but I do enjoy her videos and her memoirist-like essays that have been featured all over the internet.
She is a FORCE, y’all. And I am here for it!
The #dog sleeps soundly on a Saturday night, dreaming about God only knows what. My neighbor pulls up to our building–blasts his music for us to hear. I’m not opposed, it’s a tune I can bop my head to.
I spent a couple hours video-chatting with my younger cousin and watching her beautiful smile act as its own form of luminescence. There was no other place I wanted to be than in that moment, #connecting with her about the mundane acts of life–laughing about the calamities found in aging and ailments.
We discuss the inevitability of my little monster’s impending demise, and if I’ll get another dog immediately after or opt to get one soon so as to have another form of support on standby. Of course, I’ll get another dog. But I want her to enjoy her life being the spoiled, “only child” until she’s no more.
Oddly enough, I look at this adorable ball of fur, and all I feel is love. All I feel IS loved.
That is a beautiful thing.
Originally shared via LinkedIn.
**Since Chrissy’s passing, her children have reached out to me for deeper, closer relationships, and I needed this. I’d always been around for their growth–but their mom had my full and complete attention. They would get the occasional text or phone call. Now, it’s almost as if I’ve gained two more younger siblings, but it is Victoria with whom I sense a stronger bond will emerge. I see so much of Chrissy in her and she sees so much of her mom in me too. It is simply a joy to share these moments with them–with her. We are making beautiful memories. Beautiful memories, indeed.
Quarantine fifteen settles
in places I’d never introduce,
and I think to myself,
“But you’re still aging well.”
Like I’m a gourmet cheese
or fine wine or those
expensive nails that take
48 hours to remove.
I tell the dog there are
changes to make and my
left leg believes otherwise.
“I AM wearing the weight
well,” as I mind-change
the subject.
I see sweet imperfection
and I love it.
Inspired by words from the incredibly hilarious man with no filter and an awesome gift of gab, Scott Muska. Originally posted via LinkedIn.
I tell myself, I am glad you did not live to see this world as it unravels right before our eyes. Destruction is at every turn; children bombed, mothers, sons, families scrambling to leave home . . . the home they have always known. We would have talked about this — voiced our disdain for the evil of this world, yet we would have mentioned our gratefulness too. There is this gaping hole in my heart I have been struggling to fill, and the only thing I can do is write — write about you; about your smile, about your love, about the way you never bit your tongue.
All I can do is just write, and pray this hole fills itself with something — someone — anything else soon.
a piece of my heart
is buried in this cold world
my cousin is gone
©2022 Tremaine L. Loadholt, Originally published via Simily, revised version published in The Junction via Medium.
When someone does not believe in your vision, and cannot see what you see for yourself, know that they are not made for what you can do–only you are. Manifest your movement.
As I emerge from the Dark Ages, I share with you, my LinkedIn Profile.
This could be an adventure. It could be a total flop. But I know I want to increase my chances of having my writing come across the eyes of a publisher or a high-brow columnist with abundant connections.
I will not know unless I try, right? Right.
A Cornered Gurl 
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