What I'm gonna do and why it's gonna be OK

So, sometimes I just write here to make myself write. Always hoping that something will spill forth that is incredible and moving, soul-stirring and deep, funny and comforting. Most times I end up with words intended as story starters that don't get past their, well, font.

Not tonight--tonight is different. I'm inspired. Or I'm hopped on caffeine and consuming even more as I type this--a homemade white mocha by my side. I'm sitting in the kitchen at the black desk I just moved in here for me. Yes, a desk in my kitchen. I mean, I figure, it's my house, if I want a fucking desk in the kitchen, I'll have a desk in the kitchen. The kitchen is the nucleus of this home and most often where you will find me. And for tonight, let's be honest, because it's the physical center of this house, it's the warmest room in the place on this frigid-ass night.

Anywho, I heard back from the Community Columnist Editor today--I can resume my column. I left off after three columns because my life got crazy but in the wake of the holiday I have been able to recharge and realign myself to my path--my column is important to me right now and I want to maintain a weekly contribution. Who cares if no one ever reads it--at least I can be googled. :-)

I will try to complete a column by the end of this weekend--not sure of the subject matter yet. Hopefully, I'll have material--as if this life could generate anything but.

Moving on, I have a theme song. It's Fergie's, "Big Girls Don't Cry", yeah, I own it. I've moved past the confession stage to assuming it as my theme song--it's playing in my earphones right now. What? I won't buy concert tickets or anything but hey, it resonates with me. I have no shame:

I need some shelter of my own protection
To be w/myself and center, clarity, peace, serenity.

I hope you know, I hope you know, this has nothing to do with you.
It's personal, myself and I, we've got some straightening out to do.
I'm going to miss you like a child misses their blanket,
But I've got to get a move on with my life.
It's time to be a big girl now and big girls don't cry.

The path that I'm walking, I must go alone.
I must take the baby steps until I'm full grown.
Fairy tales don't always have a happy ending, do they?
And I foresee the dark ahead if I stay.

I hope you know, I hope you know, this has nothing to do with you.
It's personal, myself and I, we've got some straightening out to do.
I'm going to miss you like a child misses their blanket,
But I've got to get a move on with my life.
It's time to be a big girl now and big girls don't cry.

Like the little school mates in the school yard
We'll play jacks and uno cards
I'll be your best friend and you'll be my Valentine
Yes you can hold my hand if you want to
'Cause I want to hold yours too
We'll be playmates and lovers and share our secret worlds
But it's time for me to go home
It's getting late, dark outside
I need to be with myself and center, clarity
Peace, Serenity

For as long as I can remember, I've evolved--spiritually, emotionally, mentally. It's almost a curse in that, I have no constant except that change...and the love I have for my children of course. But even my mothering has evolved and will continue to. To see the me of 18 and the me of now--for Christ's sake, I'm a fucking walking enigma. The only piece of me that I recognize is my strength--this life force inside of me, my power. I cannot be broken and I've endured enough shit. I've been proving this from my first breath--I should've died in my first week home, I nearly choked to death in my mother's arms. At one week old, all oxygen flow ceased and the color of my infant skin darkened, my eyes went blank--connection lost. Only after CPR from a neighbor who happened to be home and actually opened the door for a screaming mother who must have looked like a lunatic at first glance, only after CPR did I breathe again--my way of throwing my finger up the universe as if to say, yeah right--gotcha.

My grandfather tried to rape the spirit out of me but what that fucking freak never got was that, he couldn't touch me. Despite all of his touching, he never laid a hand on what mattered--he had no idea who he was tampering with.

As a matter of fact, it was during this period of invasive, forced assault on my young body that I began to realize my power. Somehow, I knew I should be crushed or annihilated and sure I was affected in various ways too numerous to mention here but something inside me kicked in and I knew the bastard wouldn't win--he would never win over me.

Time after time, again and again, I have lifted myself from shit piles and every time I know it's all good. I know I'll keep on, I know I'll thrive--there is simply no question, it's like a natural law.

It's how I know that I'll make it through this one--imagine looking at your life, especially at the person you share it with and finally admitting that it's not serving you--it's temporary, a passing period of time in a finite life. Anyone else might be scared. Not me. Me? I'm gonna be just fine, you'll see.