Slave to Fear

handcuff2I am no longer a slave to fear. I use to fear everything. I was afraid people would not like me.

I was afraid people would not accept me for who I am, what I look like, and what I believe.

I was afraid to protect myself, to stand up for myself, to believe in myself.

I was afraid.

I was afraid to pursue my dreams, my desires, and my freedom.

I was afraid of my past, my nightmares, and my demons.

I was afraid of rejection.

I was afraid.

I believed I was unworthy of love, of respect, and of life.

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It has taken time; in all honesty, it has taken years to figure out that when I focus on problems, I only create more problems. When I focus on pain, hurt, suffering, I only create more pain for myself. If I focus on the positive and the possibilities, I have found I create opportunities. I create windows that lead to new beginnings, dreams, and chances.

Every day that we wake up, we have the chance to create something new in our lives. We can define who we are and what we want. We can paint the world we want and deserve to live in. It takes belief in ourselves, but there is one other thing. We must look at those around us.

Are the people around you creating a positive environment for you to grow, be productive and to achieve your dreams?

When I was able to face my fears, I realized that I had surrounded myself with people that were so dark that they dimmed my light and I could no longer shine.

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I lost belief in myself early on as a child. I was repeatedly told I wasn’t, nor would I ever be good enough. It was a self-fulfilling prophecy of sorts. I lost the ability to believe in me, and I found I was only comfortable surrounding myself with people that told me what I believed to be true and treated me in a way that I believed I deserved to be treated.

When I began to face my fears and surround myself with positive people, I started to grow. I grew emotionally and spiritually. My soul began to exude creativity and a desire to succeed. My heart started to love, to truly love… me. I suddenly had a sense of value and a sense of self-worth.

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It has taken years, but I think my candle has relit and the fire within me feeds on the darkness and pain from my past and now creates a massive bonfire with flames that will never be dimmed.

NEVER BE DIMMED

I have an unstoppable desire and belief in myself to succeed and to achieve my dreams. I know I will.

What are your fears? If you stop being a slave to those fears, how will your life change? It is never too late to paint a new picture.

How does one respond?

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Sorry about the crappy webcam picture that I took while writing this blog 🙂 My camera on my phone is acting up.

I recently received a series of messages by a Facebook friend, “Mercedes why are you so open about your past? I mean weren’t you scared? Why don’t you keep it private? Aren’t you ashamed? Don’t worry, God will forgive you if you just ask.”

I had no idea how to respond to this person I have never met in real life. What do you say to something like that? I had no idea how to answer. Now in my blog I rarely get preachy or religious, so be forewarned today I am about to.

Was I scared to be so open? Yes. I was worried about rejection, about people laughing at me, making fun of me, yes, I was scared to say I lived on the streets. I was scared to say I was abused in every way possible. I was scared to talk about being raped, but I did it.

Am I ashamed? Of what being the victim of rape? Being abused? Being a runaway? No I am not ashamed, and that is why I write and talk about it. I wear my scars proudly. I know I have helped others by being open about my healing process. I am a strong and beautiful woman, but for too long I was broken, timid, meek; I hid behind the secrets in silence. I believed I had no hope, no future, no life, and I never deserved anything.

God will forgive me if I just ask?

Do I need forgiveness? Was I wrong? Was I bad? I spent years feeling horrible for the things that happened to me as a child and as a young woman. I felt guilty for the abuse that happened to me. I felt guilty for the rape. What if I wasn’t there? What if I made a better choice? What if I behaved better? What if I wore something different? What if…… It took years to stop feeling guilty. Does God need to forgive me? He has loved me through all of it. It was his grace and his love that I am standing here breathing today, because trust me; I have come close to death more than once. I believe he loves each of us as if we are each his only child, and I believe he is proud of the road I have walked and the woman I have become. I believe he has guided me through some tumultuous times because he is preparing me for something amazing. He is making me stronger and more confident every day.

Right now I am going through a very difficult time in my life, a divorce. I am trying to support three children on a very small amount of money. I was living paycheck to paycheck, but not anymore. My wages were just garnished for a medical bill that took place before 2008. My soon to be ex, stopped making payments on the bill years ago. They decided to garnish my wages. My ex won’t support his children. His words to me the last time I asked was that he eases my financial burden by taking the kids on his days and that he wasn’t the one to decide to have two sets of bills. He ran bills up in my name and never paid them, of course somehow it is my fault. It always is. I don’t know how I will survive this month but I have faith, that God will show me how and carry me through this storm. Is it wrong to be open? Should I be ashamed of this, my divorce, my financial situation? Should I live in silence and secrecy? No, God doesn’t want his children to suffer, and talking, writing and sharing is healing not only for me, but for some of my readers. I will come out of this even stronger than I am today.

Mercedes

Lost in thought…

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I was being a procrastinator this weekend. I was putting off my editing, my writing, my housework, and this blog. I was killing time on Facebook, reading my friends statuses and seeing all the cool things they are up to. I found one common thread on multiple people’s timelines.

The statuses read, “I need a vacation.” or “I need a vacation from a vacation.” Or “I wish I was at the beach… the park… the mountains… the lake…” etc..
It seemed like everyone wanted to be somewhere else.

Why do we create lives that we need a vacation from? Why can we not just create the life we want? Is it because of our desire to be normal, or live a life others deem as normal? Why do we place what other’s think is normal or appropriate before our own happiness? I believe we all have a purpose. We were all put here for a reason, and if you look deep enough into your heart you will see and find your purpose in life. I believe that is where you will find your happiness.

If you dream of being at the beach, create a life for yourself that has you living at the beach. If you dream of being a professional singer, actor, writer, artist, film maker, doctor, lawyer… create that life. You have the power to create and become whatever it is you dream of being. You have the power to be wherever you want to be.

Now I am sure there are those people with the half-filled glass right now saying, “Oh but I don’t have a job there.” Or “I cannot afford to move.” Or “I am too old.” Or “What if I can’t?”

You can’t for one reason and one reason only…. It is because you are saying you can’t. See if you believe in yourself, if you want it… it will happen. Don’t give up, stay focused.

Do what it is you want to do with your life. Live where you want to live. Your life is a gift. Don’t waste it. Create the life you want. You deserve it, and I believe in you.

Mercy

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Triggered

I went for a walk this morning with my youngest son Bo. We walked through a parking lot of a hotel on 34th Street in Saint Petersburg, Florida. Anyone who knows 34th street knows it is not the best of neighborhoods, but it is our neighborhood and I am trying to teach him to see and find the beauty in everything and everyone. Fresh air and exercise is just a bonus!

While walking through the parking lot we saw a police officer pulling in. An older man ran up to the car shouting, “There is a woman up there. She says the man in her room won’t leave. She is crying, and she says he raped her.”

I looked up and saw a young woman on a cell phone crying on the third floor walkway. It felt as if a knife went into my heart.

Suddenly I was back in time. I was the woman. I was confused. I didn’t know what happened. I only remembered bits and pieces, smells, sounds, a yoohoo can, dirt, cigarette butts, pressure, him on top of me, me crying, I couldn’t breathe, he was heavy, he smelled like cigarettes and sweat, me trying to scream but no actual sound able to escape from my paralyzed throat, the feeling of shame, guilt, anger, sadness, weakness…. Weakness, I was so weak I couldn’t get him off, I couldn’t make a sound. I didn’t know where I was or how I got there. I could hear a train. It was definitely a train in the near distance. It all came back to me as if it was a Tsunami overwhelming my entire being.

Just as quickly as I was triggered and had this horrible flashback…. I was brought back to reality…. I felt a tiny hand squeeze mine and heard his soft voice….

“Mommy, are you okay? You look sad.”

I smiled down at my little boys face. I was fighting back tears. His face was painted with love, compassion, and concern. I could not be weak any longer. I could not let that moment in time take this moment in the present away from me. I thought of something I read on Jason Cross’s page…. Even broken crayons can color….

Yes, I am broken.

Yes, we all are a little broken.

We can choose to live in the past or we can choose to move forward. We can choose to wallow in self-pity and depression or we can choose to live and rise up to our potential. We can still color the most beautiful landscape for our future even with a broken crayon.

Yes, I mourn for the woman I once was before I was raped.

I mourn for that child that was brutality abused.

I mourn for so much, but I love and embrace the woman I have become, and I love that little boy of mine with all of my heart for bringing me back from the edge today with his sweet smile and his tiny hand squeeze.

I am blessed and when I die I want people to see the masterpiece that I painted with my broken crayons….

Have a safe and wonderful weekend

Mercy

On a side note Amazon has a free download of one of my books Obsession of Dylan Paul through 7/25/16. You can download it to any electronic device.  I hope you can check it out.
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The Cycle

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I don’t know where to begin this blog. I know what I want to write about, but I find myself pausing and trying to overthink the words I want to use. Words can be painful and words can hurt. I want to ensure that I choose the right words to write because I do not want to hurt anyone.

I was married for more than two decades. We had five children together, and we currently have two grandchildren. My children and grandchildren are a blessing in my life. I am struggling as a single mother with three children still living at home. I work long days and juggle a few side jobs whenever possible.
This weekend I was supposed to be at a book signing in North Florida, but I did not attend because finances are too tight. I can barely make it paycheck to paycheck, and I have cut every luxury you can imagine.

Recently my youngest son became very ill and I had to take him to the emergency room. I asked my soon to be ex, (although we are not living together, we are not officially divorced yet) anyway, I asked him do you have any intention of supporting your children? Paying child support? Helping out in anyway? He has not contributed at all in the last six months.
He responded, “I take the kids as often as possible to ease your financial burden.”

“My financial burden?” I asked, “They’re your kids you are supposed to take them because you want to see them, not to ease my financial burden.”

He replied, “I’m not the one who decided to have two sets of bills.”

He spun it, and it was my fault. It was again my fault.

Our son’s birthday was this month and my ex boasted about being able to buy him gifts. He offered to put my name on the card because I said I told our son I couldn’t buy him a gift till a week later after I was paid. He is young. He didn’t understand. My son cried himself to sleep. I felt helpless. I felt like a horrible mom. I still wouldn’t allow my ex to put my name on the card, because that would be allowing him to be the hero, and he doesn’t get to be my hero ever again.

See I know the cycle, I know the way this works. He plays my hero and saves me in some way and I get lured back, trusting and believing. Then he lies, I wind up trapped, not allowed to see a doctor or dentist, not allowed to drive or leave the house, not permitted to answer the phone, not allowed to buy makeup or clothes or have a haircut……

He doesn’t get to be the hero anymore, ever again.

I am my own hero and I do not need him or anyone to rescue me.

I once had a woman ask me to autograph a few of my books for her. She pointed out to me that in all of my books the heroine saves herself, and sometimes even the man who thinks he is going to save her. Deep down inside, I think I always knew I was my own hero. I just never believed it, or I never believed in me. I am by far not the same woman I was six months ago, two years ago, or twenty years ago. I am brave, and I am strong, but even the brave and the strong sometimes cry… like I am right now writing this.

Why am I crying? I don’t know. Maybe I am crying because I know I am destined to be alone for the rest of my life, and in all honesty that scares the hell out of me. I also know I never want to ever have to ask for permission to see a doctor, buy a blouse, answer the phone, or get a haircut ever again.

I guess I am confused. I don’t know what I want, and that scares me; however, I do know what I don’t want. I don’t want to be controlled. I don’t want to be neglected, ignored, unloved, abused, lied to, or cheated on.

Is that too much to ask?

I am not perfect, but I deserve to live, to be respected, and to be loved.

The cycle stops here.

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One Decision Away

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“You are always one decision away from a totally different life.”

I read that on someone’s Facebook status this week. What a profound statement! What an accurate statement. If you don’t like something, a place, a situation, a person, a job, a home, change it. We create the lives we want. Whether it is success, fame, fortune, poverty, failure, or just trapped in a spiraling circle downward. We create the situations we are in and live in by accepting them. At any point we can choose to make a different decision and walk away from what we grew accustomed to. We each have the power to say no more.

Fear might hold us back from making changes, fear of repercussions or fear of what ifs. Loyalty may also hold us back. Loyalty and fear kept me trapped for most of my life.

This past January I left a marriage of 24 years. That is half my life. The other half of my life, well if you have read my blog, you know there were many secrets I kept.

Fear…. Loyalty… do we keep a friend in our lives for the simple reason that we have known them for years, or do we let them go because deep down we know they are not good for us, our families, or our goals and dreams. Do we fear the loss of this person because we are worried about what they will think of us, what will our mutual friends say? I have walked away from friendships, co-workers, and family members that were abusive, toxic, and soul crushing many times and never looked back.

Every time I have had to walk away from one of these relationships it was hard because of fear and loyalty. I am one of the most loyal friends, partners, employees you will ever meet. I love 100% with all of my heart. I give 100% all the time. I would move heaven and earth to make someone I care abouts life easier, even when I have to sacrifice my own happiness or success.

But I am learning…..

I am learning that my happiness…. is important.

We are always one decision away from a totally different life.

I have made a lot of hard decisions lately and you know what, my life is improving. It isn’t perfect, but it is my life, and I am happy.

I am finally happy and I have discovered that I have control of my happiness. I can decide who comes and goes in my life and so can you! You deserve to be happy too. You are only one decision away.

Mercy xoxoxo

Mercedes books are available at all major book retailers and AMAZON. 

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Goodbye 2015

Perfect365(29)I took a minute today to look back at 2015. I have come along way. Those of you who have been reading my blogs over the years have seen me grow first hand. Last year at this time I was weak, in body, mind, and spirit. PTSD controlled me. I was in fear of everything. I apologized for everything, even things out of my control.

This past year I have learned to make myself a priority. I have learned to not depend on others. I have learned to trust myself, believe in myself, and to do for myself. I cannot expect me to ever be a priority in someones life if I am not a priority in my own.

I released a few more novels in 2015, I did some commercials, was heard on some big radio stations, I wrote for a very cool fashion magazine, and I worked not one, but 7 different jobs. I was promoted at one of my jobs and a second promotion into management there is just within reach. I focused on my independence, my freedom, my ability to take control of things I have not been allowed to have control over in decades… things like my finances and my health top that list.

My health… My a1c has hoovered right at 6.0 for a year now, 1 1/2 years ago it was 12.6 I believe. I could have died. My numbers now mean I no longer need insulin. I will always be a diabetic, but I have it under control.

It almost feels like my life its self is under control. I know it is not perfect, and I have many goals still to achieve, but I am getting there, and I am very proud of the steps I have taken to do so.

Being alone does not scare me anymore. Being alone is kind of nice, because the person I am alone with (me) truly loves me. I have never said that before; I have never felt that before.

I won’t compromise anymore. I won’t settle. I finally know my worth. I finally know my value.

2015 has been very good to me, and I have been blessed beyond words.  I can hardly wait to see what is in store for 2016 and how I will personally evolve and grow.

I wish you all the happiest of New Years!

Mercy

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Msirorret….

Huh? What is that title? Well in all honesty I took a word and just wrote it backwards. The word has been all over the news lately, terrorism. I had this idea, it may seem silly or small, and it is, well…. it is if only one person participates; however, imagine the impact if 10, 100, or 1000 people participate? Let me explain….

The definition of terrorism includes: “violent acts or acts dangerous to human life.” Let’s reverse that to the new word: “Msirorret” and reverse the definition to “Compassionate acts or acts promoting the health, safety and well being of human life.” I thought that this was an original idea, but when I entered the word into google I found out there was a t-shirt made in 2010 with the word on it, so this concept has been around.

I propose that we try to use this word and spread love and compassion to all we meet. This should be a daily event, but let’s focus on the next 12 days.  I challenge you to do something kind and unexpected for someone you don’t know, a random act of msirorret. Perhaps buy an extra pair of gloves and give them to a homeless person you see, maybe buy a cup of coffee for someone you have never met, give your umbrella to a person caught in the rain, pick a beautiful flower and hand it to an elderly woman walking alone, help someone struggling to load their groceries in their car, speak up when you see someone being bullied or treated inappropriately, work on providing clean water for a community or family who does not have it, buy a bag of groceries and leave it on a door step for someone you know needs it, the possibilities are endless.

Terrorism creates fear: msirorret creates happiness and love while promoting the health, safety and well being for another human being.

Lets spread that like fire and start a new holiday tradition every year from 12/11 – 12/23.

Please share this blog and help change the world with one small act a day.

Mercy

 

 

Legacies Revisited

 

What are the lessons we teach our children? What do we want them to remember when we are gone? What values do we want to instill in them? What do we want them to learn is important above all else. I have talked about legacies before, both the good and the bad legacies we leave behind. What we teach our children will impact them for a life time, but it will also impact all of our future generations down our direct lines.

2momanddadMy mother is Schizophrenic. The legacy that she left behind for me is not her fault, but as a child I learned from her to have a good heart, to be forgiving, to be compassionate, to love, trust and love even more and even harder. Her disease taught me abandonment and rejection. Her lack of self-esteem or inability to stand up for herself because of her illness taught me to tolerate abusive situations, taught me that as a woman, I had no power, no strength and no voice.

DaddyandIMy father left me with the legacy that as a woman I am worthless. He left me with feelings of failure, feelings that I was not worthy of time or love. He taught me that I was a punching bag. That it was okay for me to be physically, verbally, and emotionally abused. He taught me that this was normal by the way he treated my mother and the way he treated me.

Legacies… we leave them behind whether we realize it or not. Sometimes in obvious ways and sometimes inadvertently. In no way am I a perfect parent. I have made many mistakes. One thing my children can tell you without hesitation is that they are loved.

I am doing everything in my power to consciously leave behind positive traits and positive feelings that I want my children to have. I want these traits passed down from generation to generation.

I have always tried to teach my children to be generous, tolerant, kind, and compassionate.  I believe teaching them to be of service to others is far more important than dollar figures, fame, and degrees. While the latter all has its benefits, those benefit the individual and not the community around the individual. It is important to me that my children learn that the world is the community around them and not just them.

My children have experienced first-hand the kindness of strangers.  One Christmas I had no money to buy them gifts. Christmas Eve morning came and there was a knock on the door and a large box sat on the step. Inside were new hats, gloves, dolls, trucks, balls and sweatshirts. A note read, “Love your friends.”  I later found out it came from a group of friends that were songwriters in Nashville. They were all struggling too, but they found a way to make sure my children had Christmas.  My kids have been on the Salvation Army Christmas tree more times than I care to admit. They have been adopted by anonymous families over and over and I never had a way to say thank you. Well, not until this year.

This year we were able to give back. We budgeted $100 to make some ones Christmas better. I used my coupons, I shopped sales, and the boys and I were able to buy just under $550 worth of jackets, sweaters, t-shirts and socks for just over $100.

WP_20151117_10_22_39_ProThis morning we boxed everything up to ship it out to the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation via One Spirit. I could see and feel a sense of pride in my two youngest sons as they did this.  Giving gifts to others feels one-thousand times greater than receiving.  They really learned that today.

V__8D0E(2)In the past they watched their older brother hold a clothing drive in which he collected several lawn and leaf size bags full of lightly used clothing for Clothes to Kids in Pinellas County, FL. ( A clothing program for children to receive two free wardrobes a year) Andrew had been there to receive a wardrobe and saw a smaller boy be told they didn’t have a jacket or shoes in that boys size. Andrew thought that was unacceptable and decided to take it upon himself as a freshman in high school to change that.  I was very proud of him.  He also spent most of junior high volunteering at a food pantry outside Nashville where he would clean and stock shelves and help senior citizens carry their food back to their apartments in the towers behind the food pantry.

WP_20151004_14_52_16_ProI am proud of each of my children, Alexis, Victoria, Andrew, Donnovan, and Boadin because they are tolerant, compassionate, kind, and generous. I pray and I hope that they choose to pass these gifts on to our future generations.

To find out more about One Spirit and how you too can help not just during the holidays but all year long go here. ONE SPIRIT

Thank you!

Until next time,

Mercy M
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Priorities Aligned

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I found myself having a pity party tonight. I knew I was headed for a downward spiral. Now a lot of FANTASTIC things are going on in my life; however, sometimes one little thing can rock you to your core.

Today was a good day. It had its ups and downs, and was nowhere near a perfect day, but I am thankful I was given another day.

Tonight I realized, again, I was not a priority in the eyes of a person I spent half of my life loyal to and loving. A person I gave up everything for. A person I gave not 1 but 5 children to.

I found myself bitter and angry. I was hurt. I was really hurt.  I have always come second, third, fifth, twenty-fifth to things like video games, cartoons, books, and other methods used to escape reality. My needs, not my wants, my needs, as a human being rarely met.

I have had to fight for basic rights and needs to things like medical care, dental care, respect, money, the use of a phone, the security of electric and a home.

mb3I have not one but SEVERAL jobs right now in an attempt to make myself and my children a priority.

I will never be a priority for him. It hurts. It is reality. I know this, and yes we are divorcing because of this, but tonight….

Salt in an old wound….

It’s painful…

it’s painful to not be loved…

to not be a priority….

To have never been a priority…

To not matter

I started to dissect my thoughts, because I knew deep down if I continued in the thought process I was in, I would wind up helpless, afraid, and even worse in that deep dark place where some people never return from…

I began to think about relationships I had with other men before I had met my husband 24 years ago. Was I ever a priority to any man in my life?

retThere was the lawyer. He was hot. He was smart. He was cruel. His needs always came first. I gave and gave, but never did I matter.

There was the bass player from that glam hair band, the guitar player from that rock band, oh and the keyboard player from that pop band. They were super talented. They made me laugh. I loved the thrill of being at their shows and as their girlfriend. It was an intoxicating feeling, but it wasn’t real. I was never a priority, because it had to be about them. They were the star and I was nothing more than a decoration. When they found a shinier one, I was gone.

My first love was the adventurer. He loved camping, climbing, hiking, biking, everything you can imagine, but I never mattered to him either. He had plans. He wanted to experience life and back then I was too afraid to actually even attempt to live my life.

You know, I spent most of my life pleasing people, giving of myself to others, seeking some kind of approval that would never come.

Why? Why do I seek out and stay loyal to men that will never make me a priority? Aren’t I important? Don’t I matter?

So I wiped my tears and stared in the mirror at myself. I am 47 years old.  I will never be a priority. I will never matter. I mumbled to myself.

I started down that dark mental path again to the rapids that would pull me under.

Why? Why do I do this?

DaddyandIThen I thought about the true first man I ever loved….. the man who taught me what I was worth and what I would never be worthy of.

He set the example. He never had time. I was never worth his time. I always came second, third, fifth, twenty-fifth…. I never mattered…. I was never a priority. I was a decoration. The good little girl, with the hair bow and fancy dress that was well behaved for his dinner parties and work related events.  If I did not meet his high standards at these events, there were consequences to painful to even write about.

I know I have blogged before about my attempted suicide.  I embarrassed him that night. His words to me that night haunt me to this day.

I laid on the bathroom floor half conscious. I had taken every medication I could find in the house and I had attempted to slice my wrists.  When he found me he screamed, “You cut up and down… not across you F*cking Moron. Can’t you do anything right?” He picked up the knife and started to cut my wrists for me.

God I can hear the disdain in his voice right now in my head, and it has been almost twenty years.

3me4He picked me up and tossed me down a spiral staircase. My step-brother’s girlfriend asked, “Should we call an ambulance?”

He shouted, “No she has been enough of an embarrassment to this family.”

I was never even worthy enough to be a member of “his” family.  My family? No it was never my family. It was “his” family, “his home” “his rules”. It was about him. I gave and I gave. I took beatings after beatings throughout my childhood. I took verbal assaults. I bled, I cried, I was bruised over and over and still I tried to make him love me. I tried to be a priority in my father’s life.

All I wanted was to be loved. That is all I have ever really wanted.

I don’t want to be used.

I don’t want to be abused.

I want to be loved.

I want to be a priority.

Is that too much to ask?

It was at that point that I became angry tonight. Not with the soon to be ex. Not with my father, but with me.

I was furious with myself because I NEVER made me a priority.

I never loved myself enough to be a priority.

The person I needed to love me, to respect me, to make me a priority and take care of me, was here all along. I just needed to find her and through anger and tears tonight. I did.

She was right there looking back at me in the mirror.

I started talking to myself out loud. I must have looked crazy with the smeared mascara as. I started to just talk….

I am beautiful.

I am smart.

I am talented.

I am funny.

I am loving.

I am compassionate.

I am creative.

I am gifted.

I am strong.

I am brave.

I am important.

I am an awesome mom.

I am a fantastic friend.

I am loyal.

I am determined.

I am successful.

I am a priority to me.

I do love me, and if no one else ever does, it is okay, because I know I am enough.

I do not need to seek approval of others. I do not need to give of myself freely to users, abusers, and narcissists.

I am enough.

I am smiling as I write that. I am and will always be enough.

Wow! This was a long winded diatribe, but I needed to write it out, and I needed to share it because if any of you are feeling little, small, not worthy, not loved, please know you are enough. You ARE a priority. You ARE important; you exist for a purpose. You have a gift. Each of us are born with gifts and purpose, and you need to share those gifts with the world.

Until next time,

Mercy