The Shadow Book

I had two children, in a pandemic in a one room motel, with a grimy dirty shower stall. Thousands of dollars invested in student loans for a college degree yet I have no credit card. I'd look up my credit score but I have no money in my pocket to fix a damn thing. I'm just praying my car doesnt break down- please lord. I'm grateful that I'm not on drugs, and I'm not drunk. I have no idea how I'm keeping my mind together. My eyes are sore and my heart is heavy. I dont even remember crying but my head hurts like I've been shouting internally. I know better. I stand up. I havent washed in two days, I haven't brushed my teeth in four days, but I dont stink. I am barely eating. I force myself out this motel door, dragging my feet in my worn down sneakers. I know I will feel better if I just write this out.

I slipped my mask over my face as I walk into the convenience store. Everything is so shiny and bright it makes my eyes hurt. I questioned if colors would make me feel any better. There was one black journal amongst all the colors. I noted that as odd and walked over to the candy aisle. For some reason, that black journal stood out in my mind. I picked up my cell card and I went back to the aisle, where some mother and daughter were glancing at the same notebooks. Quickly, I reached and grabbed the black journal. I didn't open it when I got home because I did not have a home. My residency status was labeled homeless.

I was without a home with my babies. I'd received $150 every two weeks from the father of my two children. I knew it was a bad deal but in my circumstance I accepted it. Thats what got me in this position, accepting what I was handed. He handed me half ass love and I accepted. He handed me half ass promises and I accepted. He got me full ass pregnant and I did not want to let my babies down. I don't and I won't.

I missed my babies but their father had agreed to keep them for the weekend. I wanted to be thrilled but every waking moment I agonized on how to get out of this position. The easy resolution could be to start sleeping with their father again. Maybe that'd keep him watching the babies so I could work? Maybe that would motivate him to move out of his mother's apartment? I didn't want that. I knew his deal. While I was pregnant with his two babies, he told me he was not moving out of his mother's house unless his partner was paying half. I was pregnant as the home for two babies and he was screaming in my face that I need to work. I could barely stand or digest food at all, but I should be working. That's not the example I want for my babies. I thought that men were more caring and gentle during pregnancy. I'd never imagined this. I want my daughters to see a man who doesnt trash mommy, belittle mommy, call her names, bully mommy.

After repeated fights I resorted to escaping to a safe house. In that safe house we did not feel particularly safe. My daughters were frightened of the dog in the room next to us. Thunderous loud barks woke my children from their sleep. Sometimes I was just grateful that I had no bruises and injuries. Sometimes I was grateful that I wasn't on drugs, but I was still depressed. Sometimes I was just dodging fights with the women who wanted to stay there extensively.

We weren't allowed to eat in our rooms though the dog was eating next door. I would feed the children and not get a chance to eat for myself. We were ignored and invisible for our entire time in the unsafe house. Desperately trying to cling to a normal life. As I struggled balancing these children with my own self care, we were moved again a second time. Even by then, their father was still not involved. I didn't want him involved. He stalked me in the dark to my car and hid in the shadows waiting. Maybe he just wanted to get in the car for a ride back, or maybe he wanted to take the babies. The only thing I could rely on was my own judgement of anxiety and panic. I'd tried to fight him before but I let it go and made a plan.

Through some false report he was contacted and I sat there relinquishing my better judgement for him to take the two babies that did not know him, without their sole caregiver, their mother. I gave it up. I gave it up when I laid with him against my and I gave it up again when a global pandemic shut down, jobs, schools, and daycare.

I sat there with my pen and my new black book and I was determined not to drop a single tear anymore. This man had a craft of taking what he wanted, when he wanted. I had a habit of letting him. Somewhere between his logical words and my head shaking no, he got what he wanted. Those were not productive thoughts. This was not going to be a diary. I'm not wasting my new book on that. I had this one weekend, this one book to use.

I wrote my problem: two children, alone, no job, pandemic. I struggled to write the last word: homeless. I beat myself up. I have a college degree, how did I get in this position with two babies? I heard my ex's constant words "loser" "cry baby". He told me he "didn't want his daughters to be like me". He wanted to take full custody because any other female would be better than me. I refused to let my baby girls down. I prayed to myself over and over and suddenly something struck me.

Do you know whose daughter you are? Not just the daughter of your mother, but your mothers mothers mothers mother?

Sometimes I wonder whose nose I had? Whose hands were like mine years ago? Whose laugh was this? Whose sense of humor? So much passes on through our physical traits. All the things that mold a persons identity, passed on generation after generation. Who am I to just fail and let this man break me, break my lineage? Whose daughter was I?

I busted the soles of my orthotic shoes running from job to job. I got some job leads that were below minimum wage and some where I was overqualified. I kept applying. Nothing was the ideal job, but Id take what I can.

At sunrise I went to the boardwalk and sat on the sand of the beach. I inhaled and exhaled as the wind circulated the ocean air around me. Five women nearby were sitting in a circle. They were speaking affirmations. They stood up and began dancing with the wind, or doing some form of tai chi. I introduced myself and they welcomed me. I sat with the women and I asked their guidance. One of the women, Meiha was dressed in a red gown with flowing thick gray hair. She took me by the hand and sat me closer to the shore line so that the cold water rose onto my feet.

Meiha held her hand to my chest and belly. She said:

"Feel the breeze with all of your body, straighten your back inhale -one two three- exhale- one two three four and inhale again. Your belly should get bigger when you take in air and when you release air, your belly gets small. Who told you to suck in your belly by holding your breath in?..... You want to know what to do? You must heal. To heal, you must understand yourself, All of yourself.... Shadow work, you do your shadow work". The remaining four women nodded in agreement.

When I returned to my car oil was leaking all over and steam blowing fumes from under the hood. Nervously I called a tow to bring it to the shop, and I gave them the last $20.00 in my pocket. He drove me to the motel and I wanted to go right to sleep. I knew that I was mentally blocked. I'm always worried about everyone else, what wasn't I seeing. If anything happens, and I get sick during this pandemic at least my daughters will have my notes in this book as a source of strength and advice. If their father takes them, I will make sure they have this book from me, as they grow.

How did I get here? I feel that I have failed so much, but taking that in is not going to make anything better. What can I do? Is there a weakness that could be potentially a strength? Sensitivity. As their father called me a cry baby and deemed me too sensitive. How is that sensitivity a strength? I love my babies, their teeny hands, soft skin, squeaky voices and gorgeous faces, cute button noses and adorable smiles, with eyes so bright they hold secrets of the world.

What would I tell myself ten years ago? I would tell myself you can do more than you realize. I'd tell myself not to be afraid to step out of my routine net of safety. I was so accustomed to being on the outside looking in, that I still acted like I needed to prove that I could fit in. Though Id been focused working, when I had the opportunity to prove I could let loose and have fun, I did. Before I could give up the charade- I tested positive on my first pregnancy test, with twins, by a man I did not want to be with. I'm glad that I had those girls and now my goal was to make them proud.

I wrote a business plan for a women's spa and gym. What brings me strength? I feel strong when I exercise. I feel confident. I feel sexy. During a pandemic this was impossible for me. My hips were still sore from carrying the twins. I'd get muscular cramps in my knees and back so stiff that I couldn't move without screaming. As much as that hurt physically I still understood, movement was the path to healing. I stretched my back knees and hip, supplementing with Aleve. I didn't have access to a bath tub to soak and soothe my aches and pains. I thought of spas that I've been to years ago and how much it helped to improve my movement and self esteem. I thought it would be wonderful to do this for women, a safe space for healing and well being.

I wasn't sure that I'd be able to do this. I looked up examples of business proposals. I understood that I'd have to go to the bank to ask for a business loan, so I summoned all my knowledge from Business school to put my plans on paper. It was Sunday, the banks were closed. I called my new friend Meiha for advice and she said to sit still. I didn't find that advice helpful at the time, so I stood on the concrete floor in the kitchenette area of my motel cooking until I felt the heel spurs on my feet pushing at my plantar fascia nerve. As I sat down, relieved of the pain, I realized at that moment all I could do was sit still.

Sitting with my eyes closed, I imagined the best possible outcome. The $10,000 business loan to rent a location, a building with a pool and steam room space, room for dances and exercises and weight lifting machines. There would be room for a maximum capacity of 100 women, all motivated and inspired working towards their greatest selves.... physically. I wanted to do more. I dreamed of a place where women found advice for women, support for women. I wanted a place to empower women.

I searched through my luggage bag and found my small tea tin. I steeped the chamomile and lavender tea to relax my nerves. It was within my grasp to make the best of this situation. I just had to figure out how.

Monday, sitting in front of the business accountant at Mon OC Credit Union, I held my two beautiful babies. He was not thrilled about their presence but I explained to him that I had no babysitter and I wrote all the plans in this black book that he could copy. A woman at the bank walked over and offered to take the book and make copies, as not to waste anytime. I was nervous and perspiring on my forehead trying not to show it. My heart was beating so fast. The twins sat in their seat for almost ten minutes and I began to make my business proposition to the accountant. "A Safe Space for Women", I began with my business proposal. The woman returned with the copies and the man began to shoo us out, showing us the exit. I watched him hold the copies and sit them on his table, he was reading it.

I thought to myself" Be grateful he's reading it there is a chance." Days later I received a call from the bank. My business loan was denied but the bank manager wanted to see me. He, himself was a twin. His twin brother had a wife who applied for a women's grant, and he believed I'd be a perfect fit for this years competition. It was not going to be easy but if I made it, the money was mine to use for whatever I need. I told him that I was homeless with twin babies and he smiled as he put his own hand to his chest, "You will make it. You can do it."

I called Meiha that night she asked," Have you done any of the shadow work questions I showed you?"

"Yes I only did the first two."

"What about the third question?"

I paused. I was embarrassed not only had I not thought on the question or wrote a journal for it but I had no answer. The question was :

How worthy do I honestly believe I am?

"You should do it tonight. I want to talk to you once you answer that one. I will let you go so you can work on it."

My babies had been coughing since returning from their fathers. Their temperatures were 101, and 104. I was scared but I learned that I cant afford to just be scared as a mother. I fed them, changed them and put them to bed. I looked for any baby Tylenol or medicine, that I had. It was too late, too dark and too cold to take the babies out and my car was at the auto shop until I could afford repairs. I was restless. I couldn't sleep. I sat still, my back against the wall, right where I could feel the vibrations of the generator. I prayed for health, my health, the babies health. I prayed for safety. Their father never told me where he took them or what he did, both babies were exhausted and dirty and now coughing with fevers. I stayed up that night and I followed Meiha's advice.

How worthy do I believe I am? I am worthy of heaven. I am worthy of a home. I am worthy of security and safety. I am worthy of good health. I am worthy of success. How will I get it? That night I applied for the Women's grant. I have two tiny women, who inspire me and motivate me. I want to inspire other women. I am a woman who is smart. I am a woman who is innovative. I am a woman who is educated. I am a woman of love and positivity. I am worthy of winning. We are worthy of a home.