Row Your Boats Beotches

The hook that pulls at the core of everything I am has always been there for as long as I remember. All the way back to my childhood, every step, every pivot, every mistake, every wrong turn was always the right one. My last post, written over a year ago is exactly the path I have taken. While many may have drawn their own conclusions that I have lived in a fantasy world, that I am crazy, etc, speaking in metaphors and riddles in a poetic mystic way. It’s all my truth: the way my heart, mind, and soul have been intertwined since the beginning of my time of true existence, weaved and mastered by endless amounts of experiences throughout my time. In the last blog I speak on the fact that I had to step into a room, full of stacks upon stacks of paper, research etc. This was very much spoken in metaphors, coming from tying the breadcrumbs and puzzle pieces to my purpose, my calling all together from my whole life.

This entire life has been full of so many experiences that I have learned that many struggle to overcome, some never do, part of everyone’s journey and our paths are tailored to ourselves, but I am speaking on mine. My first 18 years of life I had experienced financial hardship, being poor, hungry, dumpster diving, clothes from goodwill, bouncing around the country traveling with a mother running in fear of her life from my biological father, (I used to think I was cursed with the blood that ran through my veins from both lineages, in poems I documented my thoughts about this from early teens) incest, rape, countless betrayals, physical abuse, sexual abuse, meth/crack/cocaine/opium addiction, alcoholism, smoking, heightened libido, polyamory, multiple homes, abandonment, group home, job corp, marriage, domestic violence, divorce.

20’s: drug detoxing, motherhood, health issues, 2nd marriage, domestic violence, sexual abuse, economic abuse, alienation, isolation, male privilege, more betrayal, GED, certification/s, tech school, 10 months w/out my children, moving, divorce, threats, death of grandparents, diagnosis of heart issues, C-PTSD, battered woman syndrome, chronic pain from reverse curve in neck due to multiple cases of untreated whiplash (never been in a car accident a day in my life knocks on wood) therapy, caring for mother with cancer.

30’s death of parents, disowned by rest of family, adoption of third son from sibling with issues I cannot describe here, cutting family that had to do with the trauma of my third son, 3rd marriage, lesbianism, moving, more betrayal, polyamory, diagnosis of cancers, Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, pelvic floor trauma due to sexual trauma, Fibromyalgia, Lymphedema, Severe social anxiety and fuck this is only scratching the surface and only a summary of the last 40 years. I am 40 now.

Stretches arms out in front of myself, pulling sleeves up. This is a different ball game. This bitch means business. In this physical world I am living, I stepped into that metaphorical room written about a year ago, and this is what I found, what I learned about myself, through my eyes and the eyes of others. Before we dive into this chapter, understand this rising of self is not like the others. My feet are firmly planted to the earth and I speak in vibrations that ripple into the other realms with the power of my lineage, and ancestors.

I have NO SHAME, tattooed on the back of my right bicep. I stand in liberty and loyalty is tattooed on the inside of my wrists. I stand in honoring the light in others and they honor the light in me NAMASTE tattooed inside of my right forearm. I stand in the words of my mother tattooed front of my right bicep. I stand in the if not now then when on the back of my left bicep. I stand in the never again bottom back of my left and right upper elbows. I stand in the power of the land I was born on tattooed right pointer finger. I stand in MY power, and take back all I had given to the undeserved. I stand in the magic and power of my womanhood, and everything sacred about it, I stand in everything that I am and will be, and I’m letting it be, tattooed back of my neck. I no longer hang on the cross for others, I no longer beg for them to be forgiven, I no longer hide their secrets, I no longer protect and enable them from the lessons they have to learn. The wolves can do the bidding for this soul now. I’ve given that power away to my ancestors. Washed my hands clean, and what shall be shall be. I have taken accountability, paid my dues, and have done my time.

Now, in the past year, I have gone through countless documents that have been collected for decades from my life, and from my mother’s, with a few from others, I have gathered information on family for years, I have been talking about writing a book since my early 20's. I was ridiculed, and discouraged by many for doing this. I have been threatened to be sued, etc. My mother said it best back then as I was trying to explain to her what message I was trying to convey to help others. She said “I do not want to be made into a monster and everyone knowing what I have done”. I was trying to explain that was not the case. Not that I cannot understand where she was coming from, it’s a sick curse or gift depending on my day, that I understand just about everyone, and if I don’t I will. This is why I have countlessly forgiven the unforgivable. I have been told that my abundance of papers, and documentation is because I cannot let go, and I need to throw it away. “Who the hell keeps that much paper and documentation?” I have sorted through the contents many times, and am now organizing it. It is history and research. Inspired by visions that my mother had, and I had, I did not start receiving the visions my mother had until she passed away and then started understanding her purpose and mine, and everything in between.

But, in all this, and watching others in my life now who are pulled to it, sift through it, my research, seeing what I had seen, seeing what I was talked out of, made to doubt, made to think I was crazy, and now I'm seeing the dates, I am seeing the work, blood, sweat and tears, my research, my soul, heart, and hands. I am not crazy. Working towards this for years. 2 decades of my own research, and before that experiences that led me to it. They all knew what they were doing was wrong, they were warned, not by me, by others. The signs were everywhere. They all had a choice, to do right, had plenty of chances. I researched myself, my patterns, my traumas, I studied and researched the patterns of my family members, all the way up the line, all for one reason, to help myself and them to heal. Learned the hard way you cannot save them all, and that they always had the chance/choice to right their wrongs countless times.

My point is I am standing over the stacks of research, in that room I talked about in the last post that I walked into, there are others that have passage to this room, and they are seeing what I have always seen, what I have always known. In the past few days I have been reassured by a few people that were not part of the same conversations but all 3 of them were speaking on something I hadn’t quite realized. How I never truly had support, not from family, not from friends. Only briefly, from people in passing on life’s journeys. I sat with the gravity of this and understanding the way their words hit that yes, I suppose I didn’t.

Yes, this is devastating especially looking at others I know that didn’t either. Then I realized how I am different from the others. I was able to do this by seeing myself through the eyes of others that are in my life now. Also, reflecting on the ones in my life who have said, “I don’t know how you haven’t broke yet, or ended up in a psych ward”. It was this weekend, sitting with this as my boys came home to hang out. Watching them. Listening to the men they have grown into, what we have all accomplished, how far we have all come and overcame, that everything I have done has paid off.

Like the joke about the drowning man praying to god asking for help. This is a joke passed around because majority of the human race are like the drowning man. This is where I recognize my difference. What sets me aside from others, why I intimidate others, and why I am mysterious. I knew without a doubt to take the boat. I was not afraid of the work ahead of me to have to row myself across the ocean against the odds. Because my entire life I have had the ability to listen without the words of the messages sent. Because I felt the message. I ALWAYS had faith in the powers that be, I followed the crumbs, I listened to the whispers of my ancestors, I followed my heart, I stood in my integrity, and I believed against all odds. So, to my beloveds, do not fear nor feel sad for me or yourself. I had support and had the courage to take it. As do each and every one of you. Harsh truth, in an instant gratification society of Gimmie Gimmie Timmies, raised to suckle on Uncle Sam’s *coughs …. Dick. Yeah, I can see how having to row your own boats is a lil' much. So, I already prayed for you too, but now I am moving forward because I realized and watched from the shore how many times you dumb fucks said nah I’ll wait for god, so peace be with you, I’m going inland now. Much love 💕 fuck you, and I still believe in you. Because I’m feeling it in the air tonight and it’s time to Phil Collin’s this shit.