#NoFilter Podcast. Ep. 2 “Love Yourself”

Tags

#baltimore, #comedy, #dominicanrepublic, #donaldtrump, #entertainment, #haiti, #hiphop, #podcast, #rnb, advice, blackgirlpodcasters, blackgirls, boston, dejloaf, jokes, life, lifestyle, pdiddy, podcasts, relationships, rickross, selflove

Check out Episode 2. Love Yourself. 

Advertisements

Check out the NEWEST PODCAST!

Tags

#celebritygossip, #comedy, #entertainment, #fuckboys, #gossip, #kaliefbrowder, #nofilter, #podcast, #racheldolezal, #sidechicks, news, relationships

Check out our first episode! It’s hilarious

There Weren’t Any Bruises….

Tags

abuse, advice, blackgirl, changing, life, lifestyle, relationships, verbalabuse

I never thought it would happen to me.

As a child, I would hear my mother’s screams for help. I can remember the crackling of cupped hands against her skin and the sound of bodies tussling against tiled floor. Even more so, I can remember my attempt to calling 911 and yelling that my dad was killing my mother, only for her to tell the officers upon their arrival that it was only a disagreement. I couldn’t fathom why she was lying, why she would allow the abuse to happen over and over again.

So when I became of age, I promised myself – it would NEVER happen to me.

Yet, it did.

He never touched me.

I never had to worry about the bruises on my skin or having to quickly gather an excuse like hurrying to hide away discarded laundry when visitors arrive unexpectedly.

I never had the bruises, that’s all I remember when it happened to me.

“If he never touched me, I wasn’t abused”.

Yet, I remember the stings that burned my heart, and the welts that formed in my insides.

It was as if it was sunset. You knew it was coming, you even knew the time it would come; yet, you would seemingly wish at times for it to wait a little longer or to never come at all.

He talked about me until I rotted.

About my looks, about my behaviors, about how he disliked me more than he ever disliked anyone else. He would say things like I was dumber than I looked, how I was the worst “BITCH” he could have ever fell in love with, how no other man would learn to love me. He would say that I wasn’t unattractive and how I was a hoe. He would belittle me and push me into a corner and with his growling words he would shower me with pain.

I’ve slept in corners before while he slept in the bed, too scared to be near him. I’ve slept in closets to be able to lock him out. And I cried in the shower knowing that the bathroom was the only place he respected “my space”.

And when it was all said and done. He would love me again.

Like a wounded puppy, I took shelter in his arms knowing what would become of later days.

I once said, that this would never happen to me.

I blamed him. Blamed him for my escape, blamed him for how I now viewed myself, I blamed him – simply because I became everything he told me I would be – or so I thought. But it takes two…

It took years to find me. It took years to shower off his hurtful words, to rebuild a broken heart that splintered from constant burden, it took years for my soul to shine from the shadows.

I overcame.

It would never happen to me. But it did. And I can honestly say if you are in an abusive relationship, even if he doesn’t put his hands on you – get out now. Love is often associated with pain. And if you’re like me- you believe that love IS pain. But it is not. Love is when you’re able to stand in front of a mirror and with loving eyes and a heartfelt mind be able to justify and love who you are. It is when you’re able to be you, all of you – not the half time special in which he only knows part of you because he doesn’t “like” other sides of you. It’s when you’re able to laugh more than you cry. It’s when he’s not the cause of your weeps in the shower, it’s when your closet is only made to store things, and it’s when corners are only meant for two walls to meet up.

Love yourself. I can’t ever explain how important it is…to love yourself.

A Worthy Read

Tags

blackgirl, blackgirlsrock, blackwoman, books, boston, change, dreams, life, lifestyle, love, newauthor, pain, relationships, selflove, selfworth, strength, women, writing

“Tavares is a beautiful young lady. She has survived a tough life in Boston, choosing to be a survivor, not a victim. She is smart, down to earth, and humble after being parentless, raped and homeless. Her only flaw is that she is loyal—to a fault. Her loyalty won’t allow her to leave the man who doesn’t deserve her. Damien took her in, raised her, and gave her life when she had nothing or anyone, so her loyalty won’t let her leave him, no matter how much he cheats, hurts her or puts her in bad situations. Fate is closing in on her—so she has to wake up, and wake up fast.”
— Deanne Smith

For book purchases and more details about the book as well as the author go to www deannetsmith.com

Invasion ( Misconception of Girlfriend Vs. Friend)

Tags

america, betrayal, friendship, heartbreak, hurt, life, love, poems, poetry, relationships, spokenword

I need one moment of clarity
For my mentality-
You know what they say
Behaviors speak louder than words
And you should hear just how loud my words are screaming-
Boisterous pitches that shake the walls in my head
I can feel the crumbs of bricks decaying
Aching with cracks of impeding desolation
Telling a tale of horrific gestures
How funny is it …
That Humpty Dumpty’s fall is nothing compared to mine
Yet, even in his fairy tale he couldn’t be repaired
—
Perception took the best of me
Wrapping my eyes as though he was a gift
Tying him with a ribbon and a note that was signed
“Will you be mine?”…
So excited to say yes that I didn’t read in between the lines
Because friendship to him was a relationship to me
Mine became his and his became ….. Just his…
What an equation that is-
Numbers that never add up, but still managed to make sense
He was my variable…
And I was left to solve what he represented
It was no longer 1 + 1
As the equation became X- 1= 1
And I sat stupefied, knowing the answer but not wanting to accept such
So I didn’t… and I moved on…
—
Then…
My secrets birthed from their seeds, rising in dignity
Spreading their petals and without regret exposing their beauty to him
He respected the art but not the thorns
Ignoring the flaw of a flower and just breathing in fresh air
Forgetting that if he cannot accept the entire picture
Then it is not a masterpiece—
—
But he kept on going…
As he created his own kingdom in my castle
Leaving residual amounts of him around my entity
As his clothes lay in my lair –
And his secretions fore played onto my bed sheets
His presence was known…
What a sight to see a peasant on my throne
Stealing my kingdom from right beneath me
—
Is it my fault?
“In all certainty, it just may be”
How did I let such peasant invade my castle?
Somewhere between the decaying walls and my bruised mind
I fumbled with the answer
Because in my injured soul –
Missing him was worse than losing him
Having him was better than emptiness
Bowing down to this peasant-
Was better than an unoccupied throne
Scared that another queen might get him
And she would have half of what I had
Was more fearful than being thrown from my castle
—
My walls were crumbling down
Lowering my status for a peasant
Giving my all to such persons
Do I regret it?
No…
Would I do it again?
Yes
But for my king instead!

What She Got in Return

Tags

health, heart, heartbreak, life, poems, poetry, relationships, soul

She’s been around far too long, too available, out in the open.

Almost like an unhinged door trying its hardest to protect what’s behind it.

Feeling like an open diary that cries defenseless in an open field of wandering eyes.

Nude and exposed, bent in a fetal position.

Her back turned as her head lay amongst a brick wall of shame,

Her ribs snuggled against her skin-

Panting from the race within–

A race against pain.

Her arms wrapped around her breasts, protecting her perked nipples that point shamelessly in the fear of cold.

As the hair on her arms stand straight up and stiff –

Like a corpse meeting its first hour of rigor.

Her breath frosting warming the winter cold with lucrative dreams in icicle’d clouds of being too available

Her body trembles from the frosting temperature of shame

How could she be so available to him?

Giving him everything and leaving her with nothing

Bare

Nude

Exposed

Desolated

Empty

Waking Up Out Of Love

Tags

healing, heart, life, love, movingon, poetry, relationships, words, writing

Falling asleep in love and waking to a void.Waking to the absence of love. Yet, appreciating that such curse has left you. Almost as though an illness. A germ that embeds in the weakest of hearts. Contaminating the heart’s valves. Blocking your own rationale thoughts and encoding your cells with a virus filled with doubts and pain. Almost taking the wrong dose of medication, somehow believing that one more dose can alleviate the symptoms. Yet, it doesn’t and it won’t. Time is the only cure, the only natural remedy, the only substance you can overdose on and live euphorically without side effects.. Time that has caught up to your slumber. Waking you, ridding you of such sickness. Providing you the strength of letting go. I woke up today.. no longer loving you.