Closing A Chapter

2:14 PM missusmonroe 0 Comments


In healing you have to suck up your pride and confront your situations. Confront your demons. Because at the end of the day and the first of the month, it’s for you. 
For you.
You’re not pushing your pride aside FOR somebody else or to submit to someone.. you’re doing it for the sacrifice of you and the betterment of no one other than your beautiful ass self.


It's crazy how I wrote this up early last week then I went to an amazingly curated event ~shoutout to Sister Social II~ where guess what the main topic was. 
It shouldn't need to be said, but here I will say it anyway: get to a point where you realize you are actually doing it for yourself and not just telling yourself that... Get to a point where you are healing for you. For my mental health? I need to close some fucking doors and put a lock on some trailing thoughts. I need to actually put things behind me in a manner where they can’t reappear. I need to RID myself. And the only ways I truly do that are feeling my way through it like I’ve described so many times, then literally closing it. I can’t close it if I keep thinking what if and of a possibly make believe future, an “other side”. No it needs to be sealed.


 Freeing yourself is a process. Honestly consider the things in your life that came without work and how many of those things are still around. Freeing myself from school took certain necessary steps. Freeing myself from a location cripple took even more steps. And freeing myself of the last of my mental toxins will take further steps, steps I don’t even agree with half the time, or at least my pride doesn’t (as small as my pride is.. it still exists). My stubbornness tells me otherwise. My attitude definitely screeches otherwise. But in order to be the best of me for my new journey I need to do what I need, not what I want (don't confuse the two). Not do what the person I have someway, somehow, I suppose, portrayed myself to be would do, and for who? Being whomever that "I'll cut a bitch real quick, eowww" for whom? Those you claim you don’t care about right? Right. There's a time and place for all things.My sisters who see me as a strong being who stands their ground? I can and will stand my ground while backtracking and fixing my wrongs or taking the necessary movements to create a better me for tomorrow. One day I’ll be 28 and a grown ass woman with many qualms and burnt bridges because of stubbornness. I don’t actually want that, not for any reason but that I don’t want to walk in this life that way. You can hate me because of me but I want to be at peace with myself and the choices I've chosen in this life.

Even the strongest go through healing, it's such a false narrative and perception that healing is for weak people. "Oh she's going through something again, she has to heal past it." Healing is not just for the sick, it is not for the weak or weak-hearted. Literally, do you understand how strong you have to be both mentally and physically to overcome both mental and physical battles? It takes so much reflection and so much of going into places within that you do not want to tread.

I'm so grateful for these words. These words that just attacked me one early afternoon that I first didn't know where they were going but I knew it'd end in knowledge someway. Turns out these were the same words I was able to use at the Social to hopefully get some other strong women comfortable in healing and their forgiveness process, whatever it may be. The magic in these photos happened at the let-out, in the most organic, powerful way as ever, our melanin of course attracting attention and our blk gal magic and carefree laughs captivating for the gentrified streets of Brooklyn for memories to come.
xxoo missusmonroe



0 comments:

Post a Comment

a year ago

8:55 PM missusmonroe 0 Comments

NYC Brooklyn Bridge, semester before I graduated January 2017
Last year I was frustrated with a relationship that wouldn’t love me back how I needed it to. Last year I was disappointed in myself through and through. Last year I walked the stage but I didn’t get my diploma just yet. Last year I was the epitome of overwhelmed. Last year I was shunned, seen as a disgrace and a waste of time. Last year I had to swallow my pride. Last year I discovered I had to retake one of my most challenging courses. Last year I had to find a place of my own. Last year I was alone. Last year one of my greatest accomplishments to date was seen as despicable. Last year I didn’t know what would happen.. Last year I was fired. Last year what I thought was my ticket out was an embarrassing shitshow. Last year I watched things align for others and felt as though I could not get my shit together to save my dear life. Last year I had to worry about everybody but myself. Last year I was the epitome of poor. Last year what was supposed to be my day of celebration, I never even got to enjoy. Last year I saw hope, but not a lot of it.



A year later I reflect on my last year, I remember a promise and goal I made to myself. That last May, six months into the future, when I would get my diploma or drop out of school, whichever came first, I’d be out of here a year from that date. I would be pursuing my destination head on and full force and I would not let anyone or anything stop me. A few weeks after finally conferring my degree and during extremely trying times where nothing was looking up, food was sparse, energy low, creativity surprisingly moderate but resources wiped and motivation nearly nonexistent… a door opened and an offer came along with it. At the time I could hardly imagine my same shitshow would turn around and be a saving grace. That it would be my saving grace.

A year ago I never would have imagined not being in contact with certain people I once trusted with my life, never would have imagined so many promises broken. I never would have imagined so much strife, so many laughs, so many tears. God being God and good is an understatement but I’m never not in awe of her work. I am just so proud to actually be aligned with my forseen path, proud to be chosen for blessings yet still. After so many mistakes, after so many fumbles and blatant confusion, after what feels like an eternity of deterrents. And I’m damn proud of myself for always remaining the me that never gives up on me. The me that nobody made to be here but the me who got herself here ~along with my otherworldly guidance. The me that sometimes nobody wants to love but is alright because she has enough love for herself to cover the lost tenfold. Words cannot describe the happiness that moves through my body nor the silent understanding of everything up until this point. Everything and many people had to go in order for me to be given the privilege of living fully and presently in these very moments. To be able to look out these windows onto the bustling, loudass streets and hear the silence in the noise. Things I thought were alignments but clearly showed themselves as non had to literally be shed, ripped from my skin like a python leaving behind her old self, stripped from my heart.. my heart, thoughts, and spirit in order for me to submerge myself, in actuality not in my make-believe that I believe is truth, in my new experiences solely for me. 
Just. Me.
Every first action, every sighting, every solo trip, skip, dance… I may think of the passersby here or the passerby there but I will remember myself first in all of these first moments. These moments don’t get to be given to anybody else. I want them for me. For my keeping, not my sharing.
Last year I had to be worried about so many people, so many moving parts. Last year I was making everything up as I went along, the heaviest of thoughts weighing down my buoyancy. This year I am taking flight. Watch me.

Wall Street, NYC, May 14, 2018. Also known as current day
xxoo missusmonroe

0 comments:

Post a Comment

therapeutic

10:59 PM missusmonroe 0 Comments



Therapy comes in many forms and faces. 

Yesterday I was feeling a slew of sudden emotions and I did the first thing I’d ever known how, from way back when I was in high school and I felt trapped and misunderstood and mentally abused, I opened a word doc and just wrote any and everything that came to my fingertips. Similar to this. No cute quips, no coyly worded phrases, no amusing banter, I just wrote and cried and wrote and wiped the snot that was an obvious joint package (can you imagine this right here is how I actually just plainly write, it’s amazing. Honestly.) all coincidentally at my work desk. I knew I was feeling things, I knew feelings were just now finally being identified, and I know I am getting past things but I did not know I was carrying such heavy burdens yet still. My plan was to go back and word it up then upload it…then as fate has it later in the day my system account was accidentally deleted.. as was the word file I neglected to save and as were all those nicely identified emotions and fucking feels wrapped in PMS. 
You all know I don’t believe in coincidences. What it actually means…who’s to know but I see that I was supposed to flush those toxins from myself. A purge if you will. Then magically, she willed it so that I would never see them again. There’s so much strange beauty in the unknown. My curiosity will be the death of me; I half wish I could go back into that moment and remember what I said but that’s the joy in it I supposed, I’m not supposed to. It’s all gone along with that up throat of tightly wound, mentally crippling emotions. I usually scowl at emoting so 'excessively' but this was different.
As I save this now, because I need these words, I do recall one word from my frenzy I repeated enough times to have it stick. “miss”. A fleeting emotion that can feel like forever but actually just needs to be felt through its end. Months ago I began and there are many of things and memory-holding places I’ve left behind since then. Even things I never could have imagined “missing”. But as I write this now I feel nothing; no attachment, no sentiment. Only a smirk of completion. I’ll speak more on completion as the days move along and you all come on a right turn on this everlasting journey of mine. Don't worry, it's on your horizon. Until then, don’t fear your therapy.

xxoo missusmonroe

0 comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Posts (Atom)