All of my life, I have been a forgiving person. I have looked past, smoothed over, hugged out, and moved beyond the many harms and betrayals that have shaped my life. My heart just has the desire to love and be loved, so I chose to forgive over and over again.

About 3 1/2 years ago, however, that train came to a screeching halt, and I found myself unable to forgive. I found myself unable to let go, or move on. I found myself even unable to pray or seek God because in doing so, I knew I would have to forgive, and I just didn't want to. In the time from then to now, my life has been a constant roller coaster. I've wanted so many times to just jump off and land wherever the wind took me. If it wasn't for my children, I know that I would have.

Forgiveness is the hardest thing in the world to give, and even harder to ask for, especially when you don't feel as if you've done anything wrong. But tonight, I forgave. And I asked for forgiveness. And you know what? I'm still breathing. I'm still alive. I'm none the worse. I actually think I feel better.

You see, holding on to all that anger and hurt, all that resentment and self-doubt, all that shame and blame has been killing me softly. The people around me have no idea the thoughts that go through my mind on a daily basis; the pain that I carry in my heart that I just can't seem to let go; the anger that ripples through my veins leaving clots that won't allow anything else to flow.

Most times, I can hardly put it into words. But I know it's real. I know it's there. My food never really digests because it's there. My laugh never really reaches the bottom of my stomach because it's there. My happiness is never truly genuine because it's there. My smile is completely superficial because it's there. Sometimes, I just wish that they could see it. I just wish that it was tangible, recognizable. Sometimes, I wish I could just kill my insides.

But tonight? I feel better. I think I have made a tremendous first step. By forcing myself to face the source, maybe the healing can really begin. It seems like I've had so much happen in my life that I've needed to heal from, and I wonder when it will end.

Tonight though, for these 30 minutes, for the next 24 hours, for the next 100 breaths I take, I will inhale peace, and exhale confusion, doubt, and anger.

                                                          I release myself.

                             I love myself.


I'm not sure if I'm ready to forgive myself or not, but at least I'm ready to try.




Never a dull moment. Every time I think I've made it over the biggest obstacle, something else knocks me off my feet. The devil is so busy, and I struggle daily not to let him win.

But Life...

I cry, I hurt, I yell, I scream, I cry...and then I cry some more. But now, I'm mad. And when I get mad, stuff happens. So I'm thinking, it's time for a change. It's time to do something different. It's time to stop being a victim. It's time to stop being a slave to my emotions. It's time to make a decision to do better, to live better, to love better, to ACHIEVE better.

I can no longer continue to allow myself to be just 'good' enough. I can no longer invent excuses for my lack of fortitude. Yes, life has been hard. Yes, I've made some stupid choices. Yes, I struggle daily. Yes, I'm not where I want to be in life, and I have no clue if I'll ever get there. But I have to try. I have to keep pressing. I have to increase my FAITH! I have to believe without DOUBT. I have to imagine the possibilities and believe that I can walk into them, fearless, faith-filled, and free.

My faith is weak now, but I know if I keep telling myself, if I can keep saying it, if I keep FORCING myself to believe in GOD, in His power within me, in myself and my abilities, then I CAN OVERCOME!

I'm putting this in the atmosphere because I want it to come back and find me. I am speaking into existence that which isn't as though it is, BECAUSE IT IS, IT IS SO! God didn't give me the spirit of fear, but of love, and a SOUND mind.

So as of today, I CHOOSE  to ask the Lord to endow me with that power, HIS power, HIS love, HIS strength, HIS spirit, so that I can move to the next phase of my life. So that I can become the woman that he created me to be. So that I can be the mother my children will always be proud of. So that I can help those who cross my path, blessed to be a blessing.



In Memorium

August is a difficult month for some in my family. In as much as it comes in beautifully with the celebration of the birth of my first born (August 1), it also carries the memories of several key members of our family that we have lost over the years.

Now I know that you are supposed to concentrate on the good, and my Granny even goes so far as to say that in death, there are no more birthdays, and this is true. But it is very hard to forget the imprint that has been made on your life by certain people. So this is my memorial.

August 8: The birthday of Mrs. Dorothy Mae Cornay, or Aunt Dot as we all called her. She was only about 4'9, but her presence was massive. Her heart was huge, and her temper was catastrophic if you happened to find yourself on the wrong side of her smile...lol. But she is the reason why I still write to this day. She is also the reason why I sing, why I ever started singing, and why I continued to sing, although for sometime after her death, I couldn't find my voice...it was just gone. She is the only person that ever gave me any professional vocal training. With her years of musical experience with the greats like Rev. James Cleveland, Rev. Mattie Moss Clark, and Rev. James Moore, she groomed us. She taught us with a fire that burned from within, and she was not satisfied unless we mastered every note, every syllable, every measure. Trust me, I've had many a shoe thrown at my head for doing it wrong! LOL. She was my musical inspiration. And she was my Dear Abby when I couldn't talk to Granny or Auntie. She yelled at me, and pinched me, and loved on me like no one else could. And to this day, I miss her something terrible. I still can't think of her without tears in my eyes, a lump in my throat, and pain in my heart. But I know she's an angel now, watching over me, still thumping me in the head when I hit the wrong note. I love you T Dot, and there will NEVER be another to take your place. You continue to inspire me to seek the best, to do the best, and to BE the best. I love you.

August 10: The birthday of Mr. A.B. Searcy III. Uncle A.B. Paralyzed playing football for Cass Tech at the age of 16, he was an anomoly. Although injured from the neck down, he went on to graduate from Cass with honors, and to graduate from Wayne State with honors. Not only did he graduate, but he also pledged Kappa Alpha Psi, from his chair, and yes...they PLEDGED him!! He played basketball, football, he drove, he worked...all from his chair. He lived alone, he cooked, he cleaned, he did laundry, and he matriculated around the city...all from his chair! He was teaching me Japanese and Spanish when I was four. Algebra and Trig. Checkers and Chess. He was outstanding. And he surpassed ALL the odds. It wasn't until he had a bad fall when I was in high school that he even slightly resembled a 'quad'. He never forgot a birthday or Christmas. He paid us for report cards, and fussed if grades were not to his standards.When I had children, he spoiled them even more than he spoiled me. (Much to my dismay! lol) He cherished ALL of his nieces and nephews, and because he never had children of his own, WE were his children, and he doted on us. He loved his mother, his brothers, and he spoiled his sister (my mother) to death. He was an awesome role model, and true MAN, in its pure definition. We lost him the day before Valentines Day, and he was definitely a lover. We loved him, we adored him, and we miss him still. Our hearts were broken at the loss, and the void will never be filled. But the memories will last a lifetime. One of the last things I heard him say was that he had lived a good life, and he had no regrets. He said it with tears running down his face, and I'm so glad that I got to hear that confession. He was priceless in our family, and we will never forget him. Your smile always made me laugh, and your encouragement meant the world to me. Thank you for being the Dad that I didn't have, the Uncle that I needed, and the man that you were. I love you.

August 24: The birthday of Mr. Charles Gorman Searcy. Uncle Charles. We lost you on Valentines Day, and that makes it doubly hard sometimes.You were the quiet one. The strong, silent type. I never knew what you were thinking. As a matter of fact, I spent years thinking you didn't even like me. You were the model husband and father. Working man, honored at your job, loving husband, father of 5. Minister and Son. Brother and Friend. I remember you couldn't see very well, wore glasses, and I used to laugh on Sunday mornings because you would pull your glasses up to read the bullentin, and to me, it was the funniest thing in the world. Your smile was beautiful, your spirit was quiet, and your voice? Well, it was evident that Aunt Dot threw a few shoes at you too! Lol! Before you had your daughters, I was like your daughter. I was at your house with you and your wife so much, I think I had my own room. I still joke to this day that I was your oldest daughter, that you used me for practice. But somehow, I was still a little frightened of you, still nervous that you didn't like me. Not because you were mean to me, you never were. I think it was because I'm SO vocal, and you were SO quiet. And it was hard for me to understand that at my age. But one day, you got a call. And the details of that call greatly disturbed you. Let's just say that after that day, after I saw your reaction to that call, after I saw your face, heard your voice, I KNEW that you not only liked me, but you LOVED me. I was your beloved neice. And NOBODY had the right to hurt me or disrespect me in ANY way. My heart flooded with relief. I remember wishing that your were my father. I remember swelling with love for you, and pride that I was in your family, gratefulness that I had you to protect me. You were a SILENT WARRIOR, and far as I'm concerned that's the best kind to have on your team. I look at your daughter's today, and I see pieces of you. I see parts of you that they'll never know. And that makes me sad. But knowing that you are inside of them. Knowing that they carry your strength, your honor, your beliefs...that encourages me. Knowing that you left pieces of you behind for us to love and share helps more than you know. It got her through it. And I want you to know that your children are beautiful, talented, brilliant, spiritual and grounded, just like you would want them to be. You did good. Your memory lives on through them, and you will never be forgotten. Thank you for leaving your imprint, and thanks for finally letting me know what I needed to know. I love you.


Me?? Barney Look-Alike? Really??

Wow, this seem like eons ago. Yet as I watch it, it makes me think. Not of course about the fact that Penelope (the period) decided to visit the same morning of the event and bloat my stomach to ungodly proportions. So of course I look like Barney the Flying Dinosaur Enhanced Elephant, in a dress that was probably already a little too small to begin with. (as you see, I'm trying to use my arm to hide my stomach, nope, didn't work...not at all!)

And not about the fact that some random person was in the background singing with me, and I use the term 'singing' very loosely. I'm SO glad that I couldn't hear him on stage, cuz I probably would've had a real time BLACK GIRL, from DETROIT, EAST SIDE moment.

And definitely not about the weave that I allowed my cousin to talk me into. And although she did a good job, I'm just not the weave-wearing, eye-lash sporting type (hence the locs in my head now, right?). So to me my head looks like scarecrow from the Wizard of Oz, mixed with a little Chaka, and drizzled with some '77 Diana on the top. (Although my makeup was flawless!)

No. What I think about is my face, my expression, my body language. My Eyes. I don't think I'm ever as happy as when I'm on stage somewhere. Whether its the hood bar on the corner, or the church on the hill. Whether it's r&b, gospel, or poetry. Whether it's a testimony to abused women, or a speech to young girls. I most happy, most effective, most MYSELF, when I am pouring, giving, releasing all that I am.

And I think that's the missing element. I don't do it enough. I've become a little to caught up in 'life'. But life for me is NOTHING if I can't be who I am, if I can't do what I do. If I'm not writing, or singing, or speaking, or performing. And although I'm always somewhere doing something, I need to be doing it on a much broader scale.

Is this a get rich petition. Nope. I do it for the love of the art, the love of the people, the healing of the soul...mine and theirs. I do it because God gave me a gift. I do it because I'm one of the blessed to be able to.

It Is Time...Stay Tuned...


Back From The Dead

I could give a bunch of excuses for my absence, but I won't. The truth is, I just couldn't write. I wanted to. I tried to write, but I couldn't.

But now I need to write like I need air to breathe. Writing is my defibrillator, it gives my life an electric shock when trials, tribulations, and obstacles flat line me. And I've had my share of obstacles lately. Even as I type these words, I feel my spirit being revived. I feel the blood awakening, the tingling in my nerves, the crackling of my bones.

So, let's start this journey again. Let's look at life, relationships, parenting, finances, spirituality, politics, education, love, happiness, hatred, anger, betrayal, sex...and whatever random thoughts pop into my head.

Oh yeah, I'se married nah, so this should be REAL interesting...

Talk to you soon, real soon...