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unapologetically FREE

I decided to take a “mental health hiatus” from blogging to disrupt all the emotional background noise that was on constant repeat. There was a sensitive situation going on behind closed doors that was claiming my tears in the midnight hour but forced me out of bed with a smile during the day. It was too big for my britches, so I didn’t even dabble with it at all. There was no need to pull out the ill-fitting mask. There was no need for me to entertain the “what if scenarios.” In fact, there wasn’t even a need for me to touch it. It was way too big for my hands. I gave it to God and left it there, without looking back or allowing it to consume me.

During the meantime, I filled my time with different activities that claimed my undivided attention. I falsely assumed that I needed several outlets to drown out the hidden pain. I didn’t want to stop and grieve. I was secretly hurting but refused to allow myself to feel anything. My plan was to ignore the pain until it subsided, but that wasn’t God’s plan.

My to do list was suffering because my focus was broken. My discipline was nonexistent because I couldn’t concentrate. I tried unsuccessfully to plug the holes with busyness; yet, I grew extremely angry because I still wasn’t producing. My roots were grounded but my limbs were bare. Since I still woke up hungry everyday, I resorted to survival. I started to eat the fruit from other trees. It wasn’t my preference but survival is what I knew best!

The best way to describe the attack was like—waking up daily, holding a plastic bag over your face, waiting to die, but too cowardly to keep the bag there. It had to be supernatural divine intervention.—God. He definitely made a way of escape. He must have poked an undetectable pin-size, air-hole in the bag, cause here I was—still breathing (while on spiritual life support).

Meds were the cowardly solution. A fifteen minute doctor’s visit could numb the pain temporarily but God had something else in mind. I had to experience the discomfort while still functioning. I couldn’t drown myself on the couch with bottomless carbs while feeling sorry for myself. I couldn’t recreate a self-inflicted pity party because I forgot how. I really no longer knew how to feel sorry for myself because I didn’t feel “sorry!” I was unapologetically free!

I no longer required to be spoon fed. I knew how to cook! 

Even though, I’m vertically challenged in statue, I didn’t need the footstool.

 I could see over this valley. Well, in fact, God made it more like a step over the enemies pit.

Today, I’m strolling on the treadmill, typing this testimony. I am without apology, me! I don’t have to subject myself to conformity. I have my own identity in Him.

I am not the norm,

far from average,

rarely make sense to the ordinary.


I am more than the physical statue.

I am my own voice.

I am proud of the woman I an becoming.


Like me or hate me, I don’t need the spotlight to shine. It doesn’t bother me, if I gotta “shine” from the basement.

In fact, I think I’ll “show up” for me today! 

I think I’ll jump off this treadmill and take myself out on a movie date. 

I think I’ll honor the single queen in me with a careFREE attitude.

I think I’ll start living life on my terms without explanation.

I think, no in fact, I LOVE ME SOME ME!

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