Today is the Day. The Chase is Over.

Dear Readers, 

It all came down to today. This is the day. The chase is over. I am 56 years old and I have finally reached the moment of full clarity, peace and the healing process is getting better and better. The feelings of heaviness, fear, anger, and resentment these emotions and voices will no longer have the power to burden me and whisper to me that I am not worth it. My healing process began in 1992 and at the time I thought that it would take me about a year to heal from the damage of my childhood, an abusive marriage, and what I didn’t know was from years of more abusive relationships that included the intimate relationships and family and friends. Let me tell you this  when you find yourself on the path to healing from emotional, sexual and physical brokenness don’t expect the people closest to you to be supportive, in some cases they are the people who will become obstacles on your journey, and you will have to make the choice to leave them behind with the rest of the wreckage. 

Today is the day that I can release years of pain, suffering, anger, and the struggles of chasing after the unknown. Today is the day I understand that what kept me prisoner was how I was thinking, and becoming a slave to the idea that my life was worthless because I haven’t become the success of the American dream. I don’t own a house, a car, and I don’t make a six figure salary. I berated myself mentally for not getting it right and for having to start over and over. When I think back on how many years that I didn’t feel loved , but search for love and the whole time I didn’t love me because I thought that it was the duty of others to love me, and my anger grew when I didn’t receive love. I  used sex as a means to feel. I was dead inside, but I thought sex would make me feel something, The only result of this behavior was more emptiness and being used as an object of pleasure, and not being cherished as a whole being. 

Today, Friday, July 24, 2020 as I sit in my bedroom with tears flowing, pouring out all the suffering, pain, uncertainty, and years of dying over and over and reliving the same tragedy over and over, I was numb and bitter. I was a slave to depression, eating orders and carrying around the  negative labels that others heaped on me because I believed them. I am not ashamed to say that I never fully experienced a mother’s love, but I am no longer going to allow that to drag me down.  On July 20, 2020, we celebrated my mother’s 76th birthday and I am enjoying the relationship we presently have.  I am no longer struggling, no let me rephrase that I am no longer choosing to struggle or to see life as a struggle. There are challenges, but I don’t choose to see them as a problem or a negative experience.  

I am thankful for all the intimate relationships that did not work out because they were not the ones for me and each one taught me a lesson. I am thankful for all the friends that left me when I was at my darkest moment because these people enlighten  me how to carefully invest in true friendship. I am thankful for this time of being alone in my own space because it has prepared me to understand who I am and to never allow loneliness to rear its ugly head to force me into the fear of running into another dysfunctional relationship so that I would be distracted from continuing on my journey of healing. I am thankful for being sheltered in place, although the world continues to be in chaos I have used this time to center myself in a state of peace. I am thankful for being able to work from home. I am thankful for the gifts and talents I have discovered that keep me free from  thinking that I will spend the rest of my life a slave to punching a time clock.  I am thankful for the friends and family who stuck with me through all of my drama. I am thankful for my blogging community. 

Today is the day that I released that I have a wealth of experiences to share by publishing my books on amazon. I am thankful for the creations of Conversations with J.R. Floyd, that gives me a public voice on all major social media platforms to help others to heal.  It’s been a bumpy and  dark, but amazing journey and I know that life is better because I am making it better. 

Who am I? I am J. R. Floyd , Inspirational Coach, Author, Singer, and Educator, currently works as a College Writing Consultant. A winner of the Jacob A. Weiser play-writing award for her work The Conversation. She was a freelance writer for Street News, and appeared in the gospel play Oh Lord: Why Did I get Married?She is a member of the BMCC Downtown Chorus. Performed at Carnegie Hall in the Manhattan Concert Productions: Let you Voice Be Heard, 2019. Author of The Waiting Game, A Different Flavor of Love & 90 Days of Reflection, Discovery, & Renewal.  

Thank you for stopping by dragthepen.

Fed UP

Dear Readers,

Black men are accusing black women of being angry, having bad attiudes, and difficult to be in relationships. So, here is the voice of one black women speaking out. It’s not only black women who seem to be angry and have bad attitudes, Its women in general. Women are kicking back against years of mistreatment, degradation and the forceful eyes of the male gaze. Black men are oblivious to the shift of women collectively pushing back from accepting the statues quo of how women are supposed to submit to her man. Yeah, well maybe the submissive act work back in cave men day, we are living in a advanced and modern society; where women no longer have to sit down and shut up. We have risen from the days of sufferage transforming themselves into self sufficient, educated, capable women who have disconnected ourselves from the ideology that women are supposed to be bare foot and pregnant. Women have overcome the standard norm of just being somebody’s wife, housekeeper and sexual object. Women no longer choose to reside in homes where their opinions and voices are not respected because the man Is the sole financial supporter of the home. Women are told that running after children, washing tons of laundry, overseeing homework and other school projects, serving on the PTA, cooking, cleaning, organizing carpools, braiding hair, food shopping, and balancing a tight household budget is not equal to a man bringing home a paycheck. Black Women are done with being held down, keep back, control, abused, manipulated, underpaid, and underappreciated.

So, if black men perceive black women to be angry maybe its because black men have for years gotten away with running games on them, passing black women around like rent-a- chicks, over looking them for white women, dropping seeds and not staying around for financial, physical, and emotional support for their children. Instead, black men want to spend the bulk of their lives being a player, pusher, and pimp daddy drifting from one ignorant sister to the next because some young black women haven’t discovered their self worth. Most black men are afraid of black women who are strong, focused, critical thinkers, financially secure, and emotionally stable. Sistahs have risen above the slick talk and promises of a better day, we are no longer falling prey to the black man’s idea of ” lets just see where this takes us .” Black women have become wise to the game of giving brothers the best years of their lives. Black women are not angry they are fed up with irresponsible, emotional unstable, financial lacking, unfocused, non committing black men. So, we are no longer sitting and waiting for a black prince charming who may never arrive. Black women are buying homes, cars, raising children, earning college degrees, and pulling in six figure salaries. So, to all the black men in the world who accuse black women of being angry and hard to get along with, I say, from where I stand anger looks good on me. The voice of a black women.

What say you?

Relationship 101

Dear Readers, In today’s Society there are countless broken relationships and this leads to dysfunctional homes. Couples are felling stuck and have become complacent in their routine living arrangement, and few people are making the effort to speak up. I suggest to going back to the beginning. Take a meaningful stroll down memory lane reconnect to why you committed to a partnership. You might be surprised about what you discover and this could place you on the road to healing.

Thank you for watching.

 

THE TERROR OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE

The scares are visible, the pain comes and goes, but the memories are still there. I hope this helps someone to get help, get out and heal

dragthepen

This article is in honor of the women who came before me and the ones after me.

            I had blinders on. I wasn’t blinded by love just pure ignorance. My mother never whispered words of warning about the “wolves in sheep’s clothing”, nor did I see the “proceed with caution sign”. I describe my experience with domestic violence, as being in the Twilight Zone, during that period of time nothing seemed real, it felt like it was staged. Although my wounds have healed, my heart is mended and my spirit restored; I think about the women who did not make it out and are still knee deep in the grips of the terror of domestic violence. My story is one of hope, desire and rebirth.

The Face in My Mirror

A Self Portrait

 I woke up that morning as I did every morning, feeling like I had been drinking all…

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THE TERROR OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE

This article is in honor of the women who came before me and the ones after me.

            I had blinders on. I wasn’t blinded by love just pure ignorance. My mother never whispered words of warning about the “wolves in sheep’s clothing”, nor did I see the “proceed with caution sign”. I describe my experience with domestic violence, as being in the Twilight Zone, during that period of time nothing seemed real, it felt like it was staged. Although my wounds have healed, my heart is mended and my spirit restored; I think about the women who did not make it out and are still knee deep in the grips of the terror of domestic violence. My story is one of hope, desire and rebirth.

 

The Face in My Mirror

A Self Portrait

 I woke up that morning as I did every morning, feeling like I had been drinking all night. My head was heavy and my mouth was dry. The bedroom was dark the blinds were closed and the drapes drawn. This atmosphere reflected my spirit. I carried myself to the bathroom as though I was a fat lady who weighed a thousand pounds. What was usually a short trip from my bedroom to the bathroom turned into an endless journey. Each step that I took towards my destination moved further and further away. When I reached the bathroom the cold tile sent chills up my spine. I was not aware that I had no slippers on my feet. I closed my eyes before turning on the light, a ritual that I performed every day.

I stood for a moment slowly opening my eyes to let the light in. I stared at myself in the mirror, searching for signs of life but there was only emptiness. I could no longer force a smile or even wash away the sadness that soured my soul. For year, I had worn a mask in public to hide the sadness I kept in my heart.

I glanced over at my dressing table where I sat to apply my make-up, just as a clown would sit down to his dressing table to paint the face that entertained the guests who have come to see the show. I thought to myself, not today, no more hiding, no more pretending.

I had to make a choice to come face to face with the truth about how corrupt I was living. At that moment, I began to feel an instant wave of relief wash over me. I made a long awaited decision, no more masquerade.

It was December 1, 1994, the day I hit rock bottom.

It also was the best day of my life.

It has been years … Since I decided not to dance with the devil anymore…I decided to face my fears, open my closet and let out all the skeletons, no more secrets.

What I did not know then. I know now.

“Divine time and order”. There were lessons to learn even though some of them came with a price.

It was 1988, I met a quiet, charming, handsome man who was drug free, hardworking and attracted to me. He said that he “wanted me to be his wife and mother of his children”. I said, “Yes” and good-bye to “Ms. Party Girl”, I led a clean life by stopping the drinking, and drugging and I settled into married life.

After setting into the role of “Mrs. Homemaker” not long after I found myself in an abusive situation. My husband turned from prince charming into a MONSTER. All my dreams of a happy forever after came crashing down, and I returned to booze and drugs for the next four years. I was desperate to hold on to what I thought was my only chance at a happy life.

On December 1, 1994, when I stood in that bathroom looking at myself in the mirror, I saw someone that I know did not recognize.   I no longer desired to be a victim anymore. My first step on the road to well-being and enlightenment was to free myself from a relationship that only aided in me falling into a deep depression and lowering my self-esteem.

Once I accomplished securing my freedom I relocated and the real work began. I entered into the world of therapy, seeking to find out why my life had turned out the way it did. I honestly felt that all the trouble was due to me choosing men who were all wrong for me.

Seven sessions into therapy, I discovered that at the core of my problems was that I never experienced a true caring, loving and trusting relationship. Not even with my parents. After years of therapy and a lot of soul searching, I learned to love myself, accept myself, and to make peace with my past. I have learned the art of true forgiveness, unconditional love and acceptance.

My choices don’t make me a good or bad person, it’s what I do about the choices I make. I look to “ME” for happiness and rejoice in the happiness that others bring into my life. Now my life is filled with much joy and peace. To this end I have a very important message to share from Maya Angelou, she said “Once you heal yourself, help to heal others one person at a time”.

 An excerpt from The Original Article “The face in My Mirror” Street News