A Writer’s Domain

For as long as I could recall; I’ve always had an interest in writing poetry. Reading and writing however were never my forte—growing up; kids in school made it known to me that I was dumb for not knowing how to read or write and that I wouldn’t amount to anything. At a young age I would write in a journal; it became therapeutic for me to help subside my anxiety and inner pain. I was never good at expressing my feelings verbally as I had developed social anxiety due to the bullying. Over time I began to realize that the more mad—upset—or hurt I was it would reflect in my poetry. They would become more intense and heart wrenching.

“I stepped away for a moment—I began relieving my past; an innocent child hurting from the pain she had sustained. The torturous words left her subconscious—as the wounds on her body pained. Her heart torn into pieces—her dignity pushed away. She stood alone each day; no love had come her way—she began to watch her morals completely drift away. For faith and hope all seemed so far away. She tried to pull it together; she tried to hide away. Away from all this torture—it just wouldn’t go away. She lived it every day—despite the battles foreseen—she still managed to live in a savage world. How much could she bare—this all seemed so unfair. The apprehension of her presents became so much more clear. She began wanting to shed a tear until everything became more clear. She feared to speak; for that’s what got her beat. She feared to be loved; for loved is what she’s never been. Her past broke her; tore her heart apart. Mending it together was the hardest part. She feared rejection—she feared discrimination. A girl just trying to find her way; thinking about how she can live life for today. When will all these memories go away—she just wants to be happy everyday. Not have to cry in silence—express her emotions and not feel so numb. Maybe one day she will overcome— all that she surfaced in that cruel cruel place.”

It took many years of being tortured—hateful words being yelled out at me and being sexually abused; to realize that all this was affecting my mental health. My poetry quickly became dark—so dark I feared my life would end before I got an opportunity to pursue my passion of writing.

“ I’m clenching—heart wrenching. This pain has got me tensing. Thirteen reasons why—that’s me all I want to do is die. Everyday I cry; no one understands this pain—this pain is driving me insane. I wish I had someone to hold me—show me love cause this life is so tough. Full pack of smokes; purchased yesterday—today I’m down to my last two smokes. All they do is lie and watch me cry—then I begin to ask myself why. Why do they feel the need to lie? Why don’t they treat me more kind? The lies, the hate I just want to go insane. Will I ever find that one that will have my heart sprung? I sit here alone—eye’s burning but they wont close. My brain is constantly going. Thirteen reasons why— they won’t care if I die. I begin to feel my heart racing—I’m breathing at a rapid pace—who can I call to calm my state. I no longer wanna cry—a part of me just wants to die.”

It wasn’t until early last year that I made the decision to seek professional help. I began speaking with a therapist about childhood trauma—the anxiety it brought me and the confusion around my sexuality I developed after being raped. It was within those sessions that I felt that with my experiences and overcoming so much at the young age of 32; that I could write an autobiography that explores various themes of my life from childhood trauma, anxiety, depression and the role each of those played in moulding a young women into an adult who fully embraces their sexual identity. My book Where I Was and Who I’ve Become became published December of 2020. I wrote this book to give not only myself but others going through similar situations a voice. An opportunity to speak up and be heard—no longer affected by the venomous words or opinions of others.

“ As society continues to bury away the truth we all face—the human race among us is slowly dying. Not from the infection of bacteria but the infection of mental health. The pressure that is put on us to gain acceptance in workplaces, schools—our own homes has us pulling away from who we truly are. So many of us sit alone in a world where diversity is primarily isolated. We struggle to survive all of life’s unknown—while crumbling beneath the outer layer that everyone is left to see.”

Many individuals follow my Facebook page Poetry from the soul and Instagram page @poeticsoul200 primarily because they relate to my messages within my poems—finding my words touching and comforting. Many comments and feedback’s I have received were “This poem brought tears to my eyes because I can relate.” “My heart feels the sadness and pain that you carry on your shoulders but you will SMILE again BEAUTIFUL POEM.” My poetry continuously brings tears to the eyes of others—and a sense of warmth to their hearts; knowing that they are not alone—as other’s experienced similar challenges just as they did. The many Individuals who purchased a copy of my book Where I Was and Who I’ve Become sent me words of wisdom—reassuring me that I am on the right path to helping other individuals and becoming a role model to many young youth within the community. I provide all my readers and followers a positive vision. My goal is to bring more light to others dealing with various mental health struggles.

“I have extreme anxiety, despite that it don’t show. I have extreme anxiety, more then you all know. I’m at a point where I’ve lost all control. I have extreme anxiety. I’ve reached my very low. I’m waiting for that moment when things fall into place. I’m waiting for that moment I find my saving grace. I’m waiting for that moment when I can finally say… everything’s okay.”

Awareness around bullying...

“As she sits, feet crossed, hands in her lap, she feels a little tap. Before she can turn around she hears a little laugh. She turns around to join the others, ’cause she too would like to laugh, but little did she know it was a trap. They called her every name; they wouldn’t let her play any games. She became offended—she was no longer the same. She sat quietly in a corner, tears rolling down her face. She was very scared of this cruel, cruel place.”

And the affects it can leave on an Individual.

Furthermore I hope to bring forth my personal experience on how I came out to accepting my sexual-identity

“My world was coloured with blue’s and pink—as I watched my family grow.The world for me was not all rainbows—as I pondered on the unknown. I struggled my whole life with the thought of having a wife—I didn’t know how to tell him—as I became his entire life. The colours started to fade—black and white was all that was insight. All I wanted was to see a rainbow—a rainbow shining bright. Red, orange, yellow, green—I let out a great big scream. This is not who I am—I am a lesbian that is who I am. It wasn’t until I grew the courage to be who I was meant to be; that the colours of my rainbow finally became complete. Now I sit under a bright rainbow—with my future wife in hand.I’ve got so much to offer—I’ve got a mind of an author.”

I allowed myself after ten years of being In a heterosexual relationship; to be true to myself despite what the world around me may of thought.

I moved to Canada at a young age with my Mother and five older siblings; being a black female and raised in a city primarily made up of Caucasians; I didn’t quite feel like I fit in anywhere. Black history was never taught in our school, nor spoken about at home. I grew up not accepting myself for who I was or how I looked. The nappy hair-the darker skin complexion—I felt ugly in my own body. The first time I ever heard the N word was when It was being uttered to me by one of my peers. I recall being in grade 4–kids pointing and laughing at me after one of my classmates called me the N word. I was very confused, didn’t know what the joke was or why the word was funny to them. That day after school I went home and asked my mother what it had meant. She replied to me with “Ignore what they say; because Its not what you are.”

“My life matters cause i’m human too—I’m someone just like you. My life matters—I deserve to have a life—not always wanting to grab a knife. My life matters—so why can’t you all see that; I guess this is why I hated being black. My life matters—you don’t know where i’ve been; all you see is who I’ve been. My life matters—you don’t know what I’m going through nor do you know what i’ve been through. My life matters—that’s all I keep saying to myself —as I continuously attempt to end my life. My life matters—it shouldn’t matter what you say—shouldn’t matter what they say; cause my life matters. Although it maybe shattered—it doesn’t mean that it doesn’t matter.”

The suicide rate In black youth is a raising concern—I did not want to become a statistic amongst those numbers. Unfortunately we are not given the same post natal attention as it pertains to postpartum depression. We are left to face this world unknowingly. While trying to accept ourselves for who we are. I as well look forward to bringing awareness for equality—hoping to end the stigma held on black individuals.

“One day we will be free—free of fear of the authority —free of being murdered —free of being falsely accused. One day we will walk the streets with pride—not feeling like we need to hide. One day we will be respected—like we’re part of the majority —let’s break this status of minority. Let’s become one and be seen as equal. Let’s stop being so evil; we are all people. Black is a shade and so is white. So what makes it right for ya’ll to hate us?.We bleed the same blood—so why are we seen as thugs. We are human—humans who are trying to survive this racists life. We will stand strong—prove you all wrong. You can not bring us down—we refuse to be thrown to the ground.

…Black lives matter!”