Creative me

Creative me 

Creative me is life in poetry 

It is the wind, waves, rain and sun that bloom when I sing

It is the hug I give myself 

when I write words on paper from my ink pen and embed feelings of melancholy and euphoria that flow together to create magical lines of power 

It is the flames of shame that my words will go unwritten and or unnoticed because I have lived in the shadows of nightmares unrelated to me 

Creative me is the 10 year old girl who was silenced, shredded and shut down by mom and grandma when I proudly shared that I when I grew up I wanted to be a singer. My smile left and my head was down as they floundered the antithesis of education being the only way because somehow I wouldn’t make it. 

But my dad, my dad  sat there silently taking glimpses of me. And when look back I think to sing was his dream but someone had made him rethink.

Creative me is probably hidden because my family had forbidden all the truths I wanted to be. So how could I become this thing if they didn’t even believe in the God given me?

But creative me mustered you the strength with unequivocal fear to tell my husband I wanted to move to LA because Houston was just a safe serve to chase my dreams away

Creative me is the waves of freedom 

The matchless words of wealth 

The paddle to release my regret 

I know that if creative me doesn’t live 

Antoiniqua will suffer at the hands of her own demise 

flashing the golden rings of fancy that were only tickled by a 9-5 

Auspicious occasions where my nameplate was supposed to be overshadowed by the fear of the greatest me. 

I will stand tall and feel the fear anyway 

Be scared and become the next MJ fade-away 

Weight loss Me

Weight loss me 

So you had a baby and your body is shot to hell now what are you going to do? I thought that if I breast fed my baby I’d lose weight faster cuz that’s what they tell you. If I just maybe eat less but I can’t because I’m usually drained after I feed my baby. I was producing all the milk for him but I felt empty. Trying to find my body again and wondering if I’d ever get it back. Not only was I the nutrition supply for my son but I also had a husband who wanted me too. Sexually yes but intimacy was missing as I was in solitude to my baby. The stranger I was giving everything to and my husband who was mostly understanding but needed me too. I wanted to please my husband but the post partum projections had me scared. What if the pain was more salacious than the pleasure? 

To be honest, I’ve been trying to “lose weight” since forever. I remember, the first man I ever loved told me I needed to workout at the grandiose age of 6. I didn’t quite understand but I found one of my moms Jane Fonda workout tapes and started doing it almost incessantly. He walked in and saw me doing what he had said I should and he said “I didn’t mean right now”. I replied, “that’s ok,” and continued my workout as he walked back to his room. I still remember those leggings and body suits filled with thin white women and some men that I’d never attain. But that memory has been etched in my brain and I’ve tried to become that thin white woman for years. 

Even as I look at my kinder, first and second grade pictures, I don’t see anything wrong with my body but I guess I was wrong because when I was 7 I asked for more ramen from a babysitter. My brother and I had split the pack in half. She told me I didn’t need anymore and that I was big enough. Her friend chuckled and then she began to apologize and said she shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t understand. I was just hungry and wanted more food. My brother didn’t really eat so it was always me bartering for food. 

It wasn’t until 3 years ago I remembered this incidents and it made me sad. It made me question if my quest to a BEACH BODY was all in the name of wanting to be loved by someone who would ultimately abandon me. And I thought maybe if I lost weight he’d love me and come back.

From 3rd to 5th grade it turned into Billy Blanks Tae bo tapes and I became more and more aware of my body being different from everyone else’s. Not only was I bigger, but my boobs were more developed and then I had an epiphany. Those shots I was getting in my thought every 3 months in the 3rd grade was in fact birth control. Talk about HORMONES! I wasnt sure if it was explained to me but this method was used for me because doctors were convinced that I would start my period “too early”. So my family decided it would be best to stop by using this but I’m not too sure this was the plausible choice. I was never out. Right called fat but family members would make comments about my body and weight and what I ate. 

But in 8th grade I played softball and thinned out a lot. It was the smallest Id ever been and I wore a size 10. I was grateful and felt better about myself. It didn’t last forever but it made me feel good. I was a good size but to the rest of the world I was definitely looked at as fat. And I thought I was too. This notion haunted me throughout high school because I wanted boys to like me. I just laugh at myself now and. Think, “GIRL WHY DIDN’T YOU ENJOY YOUR BODY?” It was beautiful. I have countless journals of diet plans to get me to 140. My life was an emotional stance of weight projections. And really it caused me to try and find love in other ways with my body from different people. Low self-worth is MF. 

So here I am now at the heaviest I’ve been in my life, struggling once again to love me AGAIN! 

I do want to lose weight for the sake of my health. I don’t want to be tired from walking up and down my stairs because before now even though the world saw me as fat I was healthy. European standards of beauty are exactly that European. However, I still want to love myself. I want to feel worthy in this body that has been through crazy things in life. I want to hug that little girl who was 6 and say it’s ok your enough I like your body even if it is not slim like the rest of the world and if your hungry eat don’t starve trying to prove yourself. 

For the past 6 weeks I’ve been a part of a program to lose weight and though I haven’t lost a lot of pounds, my body composition has changed. Thank you to Massy for the MA warrior program it’s been incredibly helpful. Though I like my sweets. My journey hasn’t been perfect but I am seeing results. 

So here is to weight loss me. Your body can do hard things and it’s hella beautiful. Just watch the transformation to health through healing. Here’s to trying to find the love in me. 

Blackly exhausted: Silence kills

I remember being silenced by someone in my mlm company who told me not to discuss politics in my post because people wouldn’t by from me. I listened (white privilege) She also shamed me for saying that I didn’t like someone because he called me a hoe. She told me it didn’t matter basically because she liked him. Oh and she was very poised in being “COLOR BLIND”

I remember a supervisor at UW comparing her experience as the only blonde in a group of brunettes in her sorority to my black experience. (White privilege) 

I remember explaining to a co-worker that being Latina encompasses being Puerto Rican, Dominican etc. She got upset because we (me and my co-worker who was actually Puerto Rican) made her feel dumb. (White Fragility) 

I remember a white co-worker using the N-word as she explained how she was taught that the N-word wasn’t a person of color but the way people acted. I laughed because I couldn’t believe it and it felt like I was in a different world. The white fragile co-worker came to me after and said I’m sorry she said that to you. I said well it happens often. Afterward I told her she offended me and her reply was a simple well you know I wasn’t trying to offend you. I cried on my way home. I was the only black person who worked at his school on base. It felt like the worse part of me had somehow sprung out and I didn’t know how to protect myself. I stayed up all night. Contemplating what to do. I ended up letting the principal know who went to HR but she assured me she wouldn’t get fired. I talked to HR and they gave me fluff about their initiatives which were bullshit. However, I didn’t fight. I was 8 months pregnant and I was already anxiety ridden at this point about my first born son and to add to that would be a detriment to my existence. (Racism, privilege, institutionalized racism) 

These are just highlights of my life as a black woman moving through mostly white spaces. I’ve been in these spaces most of my life and I have yet to find solace. Whether it be overt or microaggresive, I am unable to fully comprehend how people walk around with so much faith in their whiteness that blackness being discussed is unfavorable. That somehow people who work with black and brown kids all day can say nigger and say I hope this doesn’t offfend you and move on. 

I’ll admit most of these incidents I felt I had to apologize for being me. For being sad, silencing myself to make money, to make others feel good about their whiteness. But none of these people wake up in my reality. They are okay with being salvaged in the secrets of fault because anything else makes them feel guilty for the ancestral blood that is on their hands. That somehow your color blindness is single handedly muzzled in a new awakening! I will gladly empower myself and others to say the truth even if it means people will not make business transactions with me. 

Blackness is always taught to be harmonious in order to survive. Without it we cannot move forward because non compliance means no having a job to support our families, it means being heckled by co-workers because you went to HR, it means dealing with ignorance on your job even if it hurts you, it means saying sorry to the white person who you made feel bad even though you were right, it means listening to undeniable privileges being forced on you as it somehow relates to your blackness. It means people being more concerned about Colin kneeling than about the reason he is kneeling which is why yesterday a black man died, it means being resilient even when people try to break you, it means death and even while you comply it still could mean death. It means talking to my son about how he moves in the world as a black boy and man because of how they see him. It means my husband being stared at and sometimes white people jumping when he passes by. Being black has taught me that you can’t win and even when you do somehow we still lose. 

So from now on I will not be silent so you can feel comfortable. I will use my voice. I will share my thoughts even if it makes you feel uncomfortable. Even if you call me the angry black woman I will tout it in strength. Your uncomfortability is not my problem. 

To be a Negro in this country and to be relatively conscious is to be in a rage almost all the time.- James Baldwin

P.S IF YOU ARE WHITE AND READING THIS PLEASE READ ABOUT THE HISTORY OF US. Don’t just celebrate our cultural implications AKA our music, our hair, our clothing etc. Know the truth of our history and yours too. How the colonization worked what it meant for black people, how historical racism breeds the systems that are currently in place. It is not our responsibility to teach you. If you want to know READ. Google is a your best friend. 

Examples: White Fragility, I’m still here: black dignity in a world made for whiteness are just two good reads. There are more just go find them. 

We have been slaves in this country longer than we’ve been free. 

Cheers to 31

I am never really a person who intends to be celebrated. I’m pretty simple and don’t need much to sustain. When I turned 30 I wanted to go tropical but I didn’t have tropical money. I was a stay at home mom and my husband was the only one working. But you know at 30 it’s supposed to be a huge milestone and the turn up was supposed to be real. But that is t what happened. However, my husband did a surprise party for me with a group of people from church and took me on a trip to a place I’d never been in Washington. It was thoughtful which my husband always is. He even got people to write me little notes of how they viewed me with a pic of me in it. It was so sweet and kind. But if I’m honest I wasn’t happy. I felt like a failure. At 30, I’m supposed to have my life figure out and be making all the money in the world. Have this group of friends and BFF’s to celebrate turning up with me. And none of this happened. I was and still am a stay at home mom feeling lost, isolated, unsure of who I am. Sinking mostly in depression and just wanting to be free from all the things that I couldn’t handle. I lost my dream but most of all I lost myself. I realize now even more then before that my husband can not define my happiness that I needed to define it for myself. And as society and comparison continue to plague me, I’m realizing that it is necessary to find contentment in myself.

As some may know I am on a healing journey. I am currently in therapy and have had some of the hardest conversations with myself and others on this journey. After my dads passing in 2014. My world shifted more than I could handle and began therapy in 2015. But took a break because finances and I had a baby. Now in 2020, I am with a new therapist and within these 3 months I’ve been able to unveil secrets and begin to close chapters that I’ve held on to for 10 years with people from my past. However, the biggest realization was that I didn’t like myself nor did I love myself. Some of it has been because I’ve mostly felt different not black enough, not white enough, not loud enough, not worthy enough, not deserving enough, not pretty enough. 

So I’ve decided to blog about my journey to healing. The messy, the undeniable, the beauty, the ugly. But this open letter to myself is to begin to believe in my beauty both inside and out. To find the truth of me. To be unafraid of expressing who I am inspite of the masses who won’t identify. 

So cheers to 31 year old Antoiniqua who is unlearning to Become all of the things she was designed to be without the guise of others needing to validate me. The Niqua who will continuously be flawed but free. 

Exchange

I think I wanted this life

Frantically outsourcing my heart 

For death due us part

I was mostly a secret

But I was mind blowing in darkness

The pictures of fantasies 

Tantalizing my heart

Love was curable 

But driven by the wrong thing

The emptiness inspired me 

To do wild and crazy things

My soul was anchored in lullaby’s unsaid 

While other parts relinquished to J holidays Bed 

The secret admire I couldn’t hold 

My life filled with my anguish 

But my body was bold 

It kept every mans ego warm 

While I infinitely declared 

My bodies your anchor do whatever you please 

As long as your with me I do anything even it means being on my knees 

Now I digress into an abyss of lies 

My worth now entangled in falsehood of surprise 

The more I desired was no longer to be found 

I was creeping and sleeping while love was abound

Anything you can do I can make wetter 

My laughs sent through text as an illusive cry 

But he couldn’t see the deception of my heart 

Did he not see me? 

Was I a failure in bed? 

Nah gurl you trippin 

You did everything he said 

So why am I still empty in my chain of love 

You were exchanging bodies and was sitting up above. 

Loving me isn't easy

I am strong
I am brave
I am smart
I am beautiful
I am a child of God
I love myself
My husband loves me
My son loves me

I am strong
I am brave
I am smart
I am beautiful
I am a child of God
I love myself
My husband loves me
My son loves me

I am strong
I am brave
I am smart
I am beautiful
I am a child of God
I love myself
My husband loves me
My son loves me

Words I will continue to say in 2018 to myself until I believe them. I have not done a great job speaking positively to myself. I constantly compare myself and I'm hyper aware of my body. Although I am taking steps to changing it, it's not an easy task. But I am worth it.

I am struggling with my past and all that comes with it. I'm praying that I overcome it soon. But I know there are obstacles in the way of redemption. I know Jesus loves me but I'm positive he doesn't love those things I'm still warring with inside that I wish I could take back. The people I let in who I can't seem to get it out. The strangers and the ones I knew like the back of my hand. The heartache and instability of me. I wish it was gone. That I could erase all of the images and focus on myself, husband and my son. That I could relinquish all of the pain I caused myself in the name of LOVE.

I know I know. This will help someone but I'm trying to save myself right now from not vomiting on my own self from my stupidity. I feel so dumb. I don't feel forgiven. I feel like the cluster of lust and the residue of it all is still overtaking me . The bruises I have caused myself cannot be undone. Who says when you get married it all goes away? That's not true. You must work through every step and be ready to say and do things that are hard. To get down to the heart of the matter in order to move forward.

Truthfully, this is why Jesus says abstain until marriage because the scars are plenty when you're just blowing in the wind. Every single person lays dormant in me until you call them out to break those ties and even now I am suffering with the pension of my past. It feels like it haunts me and I want to get out. Memories flow through me and I am sad and angry. Sad I gave it away and angry that the thoughts won't leave me. That intimate moments with my husband turn morbid because of my own desires in a moment. Moments that I can't take but are somehow embedded in my brain.

If I love my husband so much why is the plaguing me you say? Well, I always say that it was never a problem until God cane into my life. That my fight wasn't there until the devil started to fight me. I have this theory that the enemy only fights those who God is moving in. That if the devil already has you he has no need to mess with you. But once you become a new creature in Christ the battle begins. And once I became one with my husband there has been a battle.

I don't know if everyone deals with this but I continue to pray and ask God to release this from me. I'm not sure if it will happen and when it does how it will but I'm moving in truth not in fear knowing that I am forgiven and my husband has forgiven me. I just must forgive myself. And while I want to say I have, I must say the critique is too much to handle and I am losing this battle of self love.

Overwhelming Journey

I felt a sudden rush of heat go through my body. I had just eaten lunch so I didn’t think anything of it. I continued to type at my desk and all of a sudden I felt dizzy. My body heat was rising. I stood up and walked to the office next to me and ask my supervisor if I could take a breather. I went downstairs in the cool air, took some deep breaths and tried to calm myself down but it wasn’t working. I stayed for a little longer to ease my mind. I was freaking out because this had never happened to me. However, there was work that needed to be done. I was getting ready for the Gala at my job and I had no time for this. I went back to the 38^th floor, sat down in my chair turned to my computer and with the strike of a key I felt the rush again.

I felt so conflicted but I was in tears and asked to go home. There was no way I could stay. I had only been at the job for 6 weeks and already I couldn’t perform my duties. So I drove myself home which was an hour and a half drive dizzy. I laid down when I got home. Maybe I was just tired and needed some rest. So I slept and then woke up to my mom and fiancé surrounding me and asked how I was feeling and I was still dizzy. It was the feeling ever. So I slept through the night and when I woke up the next morning my whole world turned upside down. I started shaking and convulsing and it was out of my control.  I was having a seizure. My history of seizures was non-existent. I was scared and I didn’t know what to do. My fiancé was too. I called my family nurse and told her what was happening. She told me to take an aspirin, drink some water and try some caffeine. I got off the phone and my fiancé gave me all of these things that she recommended and took them. I laid down to relax and I had the longest seizure ever. I wouldn’t stop and I couldn’t stop myself. I wasn’t in control. There was nothing I could control.

We rushed to the E.R. I was sitting in the car and began to cry. I was being comforted by my fiancé Devante who was telling me everything would be ok. I was convulsing throughout the car ride to the ER. A few minutes later, he started to call my name and I didn’t respond. I could hear his words but I couldn’t respond. Soon my body lay limp as I say in my seat. I could tell he was freaked out but my whole body was out of control. It was one of the scariest moments on my life. I ‘m sure it was scary for him too.  

When I finally got into the room, I remember Devante holding my hand with tears in his eyes saying that he didn’t want anything to happen to me. I knew he was scared. So was I. They hooked me up to machines and I took millions of test. The doctor came in and asked what I was feeling. One side of my face was completely numb and the other side I just had pain. After all of the test, they found nothing. Absolutely nothing. I left with two prescriptions to help with my numbness. That was it. I was so upset and confused. I was having seizures and I couldn’t control it. You mean to tell me there’s nothing wrong with me? Why didn’t the doctors find anything? I was in disbelief. But before I was released, the nurse on staff asked me a question. A question that I was not ready to be asked or even thought would cause this much havoc in my life. She said, “Has anything significant happened in your life recently?” I replied, “Yes, my dad passed away.” She then let me know that it was possible for me to have pseudo-seizures and that sometimes things like this happen when there are significant changes in your life. Still, I didn’t think anything of it. I mean why in world would my body react that way from my dad passing away?

After leaving the hospital, I felt no relief.  I was confused and disoriented; afraid that it would continue to happen and it did. It happened often. All the time matter a fact. I found myself in the ER again. Only this time, I was going in and out of consciousness. I was driving and all of a sudden I noticed myself closing my eyes at the wheel. I called Devante and said, I think something is wrong and then I stopped talking. Again, I could hear him but I couldn’t respond. He told me to pull over but I was super close to his house so I didn’t want to stop. In fact, we were on our way to counseling appointment in the next 30 minutes. I just stayed on the phone with him and talked to him when I could. When I got to his house, I continued to go in and out of conscious. I would be holding a conversation and suddenly stop and be slumped over. It was terrible. I found myself at the hospital again and the same thing happened.

When I left this time, we had to make a decision about whether or not I should continue to work and that was one of the hardest decisions ever. I was 25 years old. I was getting married in October, I had just quit one job and got a new one working in Seattle and was getting paid way more than ever. I didn’t want to leave but I had no options really. I literally could not function or give the company what it needed. I was also putting myself at risk because it was an hour and half drive from where I lived and I rode the bus. It sucked! I felt worthless. I wasn’t giving anything to the world; I was just taking away from everyone and couldn’t contribute to anything or anyone. I felt like my life came crashing down all in an instant. I was just a burden to anyone and everyone around me. No one should have to take care of me. I was grown. It was the worst feeling ever having to ask for money. Most days, I just sat at home, watched T.V or sat in silence. I could hear secret murmurs from my family and Devante’s family looking down on me. You weakling. Making my son taking care of you. You’re faking it. There’s nothing wrong with you. Suck it up. These kids are so weak these days. We used to be able to handle everything. Those are the words I heard around me. No one ever said them, but it’s what I felt.

Then one day, I just felt like I could no longer take it anymore, I was sitting in my bed alone around 2 in the morning ready to end it all. I could barely sleep nowadays and I just wanted to rest. I was so angry. I was sitting there pondering if life was really worth it. No one would care if I left anyway. I’m just taking away from everyone. I’m on Medicare. I have no job and no purpose. I live with my mom. My family is messed up and so am I. I have no reason to be here. That night, I made the decision to take my life once and for all. So I decided to write.

Here is the letter I began to write

I am sorry I am so weak and that I can no longer be a part of your lives. I can’t handle my life anymore. I think the world may be better without me. I’m not strong enough to be the daughter, granddaughter, sister, wife or mother I need to be. I hope everyone knows I love them and that my intentions aren’t to hurt anyone. But I’m not good enough to be here. I have ruined my life and so many others. I’ve tried my hardest to hold on but I can’t anymore.

            When I wrote the word anymore, I immediately put my pencil down and heard a voice inside of me tell me to stop. You’re not going anywhere. It’s not time for you to go. I just cried and cried until I cried myself to sleep. I didn’t call anyone. No one knew but me and apparently God. I just wanted the pain to go away. This moment, even though it was literally the lowest place of my life, showed me that God was with me. God is always with us. We can feel like the lowest of the low. That we aren’t worth it and God would say you’re okay. I’m with you. I’m in your corner fighting for and with you. You don’t have to leave this way. He has so much in store for us that we don’t even know.

I finally told Devante what happened. I was afraid and didn’t want to disturb him because he was working but he rushed over to see what happened and what was going on. He was the only one I could tell because he was the only one I felt fully supported by. He prayed for me and was concerned for me. And he’s still that today for me. Honestly, I have no idea why Devante stayed. I wasn’t giving anything to him. I felt like I was sucking the life out of him. But, I can say he was the only person I knew I could count on. He took time to understand me more than my family more than anyone. Little did I know this was time that we were creating our own little family. I was learning that I could trust him in bad times and that he wouldn’t just up and leave when it got hard. We weren’t married yet but we were becoming one.  

Now, almost two years later, I am able to give life to someone else. I can’t believe it. It was a surprise for sure and I had times where I was like I don’t know if I can do this but the miracle of it all is that there is more joy in life. Had I ended it then everything then, I would never have the opportunity to actually to live in this moment of producing life. I am nervous as heck about being a mother and all that means but I’m excited and honored that God is allowing me to give life in spite of the fact that I wanted to take mine. The road still isn’t easy. I still have pseudo seizures to this day but I am learning to manage it. I’m so grateful that I am here to tell my story because not everyone was able to make it through.

SPECIAL NOTE: To anyone who is dealing with depression, PTSD, anxiety, or are having suicidal thoughts, I urge you to get help. To talk to someone anyone that you can trust.  I know for a fact that I would not be here if I didn’t go to counseling and find someone that would be there with me with no judgement. I am thankful that the Holy Spirit stopped me. Truth is I could have been gone and I wouldn’t be writing this if I wasn’t getting proper help and hadn’t told my husband. This was so much more than me, bigger than I could handle on my own. We are taught to be strong and let no one help you. But don’t bare these burdens on your own. There is someone who is willing to help you. I rebuke the spirit of self-deprivation for anyone that is speaking death to themselves. You are enough, there are people that love you and want you. Believe.