The Wench’s Cocktale goes live

The Wench’s Cocktale will take the reader on a passionate, sexually explicit journey of a woman’s struggle working as a prostitute on the streets of Bay Area California. While learning to love and understand herself, Jo experiences heartache and pain that causes her to make quick decisions through the chaos of anxiety and addiction.

BUY IT NOW – paperback

BUY IT NOW – kindle

Manifesting Success for The Wench’s Cocktale

 

There are millions of things I can write about today, but I am going to focus on my book. The other topics bring me anxiety because they’re all unknown outcomes. Even though the outcome of my book is unknown too, I feel I can positively share my feelings, plans, and aspirations clearer than any other topic. My book is called The Wench’s Cocktale: A Bay Area Memoir. It is the story I have put together while I took the time to recognize my life story and heal from pain and trauma of sexual, verbal, and mental abuse. I find myself praying upon the success of my book to carry me through life. I am manifesting a successful book, which in turn is giving me options on other things I wish to incorporate in the wellbeing of myself and those closest to me.

I’ve always considered myself a healer. I even identify my sexual adventures shared throughout my book as a way of healing. Could it be possible that my book will produce enough success that I could live off of? I don’t want to get a dead end full time job somewhere and not fulfill my dreams of being a writer. I don’t want to work 40+ hours a week just to make enough money to pay bills. I don’t want another boss who eventually becomes a friend who then becomes a stranger.

I’ve written a book. It’s a good book. I have accomplished a childhood dream. Is it real yet? No, not yet. I’m still thinking it’s a dream, not yet reality. But it will be. I will receive a huge box in the mail that will have hundreds of my books ready to sale. I will go on book signings. I will give speeches. I will continue to help others heal through their sexual trauma as I’m healing from mine. It’s a never-ending process, healing is. As I write this blog, I’m healing. I’m manifesting what will be my future.

There are two subtopics within discussing my book. One subtopic is reaching out to the real people who represent the characters in my book. There are three main characters in my book, but those characters represent over a dozen different people. I’ve created characters out of the people who left an impression on my life while I was indulging in my sexual adventures. So, I want to reach out to them and share our stories of growing up and acting out on our passions. It’ll be hard, but it’ll be healing. Nobody ever said healing was easy or painless.

The second subtopic is my love life and the responsibility of being in a committed relationship with the man I fell in love with years ago, who represents the main character in my book. I wrote my book with him in mind the entire time. I fell in love with him all over again when I thought about him. Reaching out to him after I wrote the book has built a relationship that will last the rest of our lifetime. It’s a fairytale, but it isn’t fantasy.

Now, there’s a sub-subtopic within that second subtopic. He’s being released from prison in about 13 months. The book I wrote with him in mind was a book about my sexual trauma and healing from it. It has nothing to do with his story. Together, him and I will write his story. More healing will come of it. Deciding to take a memoirs class during my senior year in college is what brought me to this place. If I didn’t start writing my memoir, I would have never taken the time to remember the love I had – have – for him. Right now, I am all he has and it’s my responsibility to make sure he has a place to call home when he’s released. It’s a lot of responsibility, but I wanted it. I asked for it. I took it.

Manifesting a successful book is with him in mind, of course. However, capitalizing off my story by helping others identify with their sexuality and heal from any trauma they may have experienced is the success I wish for. Yes, I want financial support and security in living with him to come of it, too. I want to see more books come from this experience of publishing my memoir. I will publish more books. I will keep motivating people to heal from their trauma. It’s essential to a happier, healthier life.

I am meeting my goals. I am producing my dreams. I am achieving my health. I’m trusting the process and not thinking or worrying about finances right now. That will come. I have to trust in that. I have to trust the process I am going through because that’s how manifesting works. I leap and trust The Universe, or God Himself, will guide me. I won’t fail this time. Success is mine. Success is ours. My book is going to sale. I am a successful author. I am a healer. I am his Queen. I am.

I’m angry, not destructive …

Anger management is a challenge.

I tell myself, “Take a deep breath.”

I do it.

Nope, I’m still angry.

I take another deep breath.

“Through your nose, out your mouth.”

Nope, now I’m angrier than before.

I can’t calm my anger with deep breathing.

I feel my heart start to race.

I feel my breathing become more like asthma.

I close my eyes.

I envision I’m punching something.

Pain. Adrenaline. Deep breathe.

I do not punch a wall.

I pinch myself.

Pain. Not enough.

I tell myself, “Manage your anger.”

I can’t.

I’m too angry to manage it.

Managing it makes me angry.

Breathing makes me angry.

“Fuck! There’s the anxiety.”

Heart rate continues to go up and deep breathing isn’t helping.

Here come the negative thoughts.

It’s been over an hour and I’m still angry.

Why can’t I calm my anger?

Why am I still angry?

Then it happens.

I cry.

Uncontrollable, hyperventilating tears fall down my cheeks.

Unhappiness, frustration, and the feeling of failure are all too familiar struggles. When it all comes boiling down to one particular moment, I get angry. I can get so angry that I refuse to identify the real, underlining issue, which makes me even angrier. I used to be a cutter because of this uncontrollable sense of anger that flows through me.

So passionate.

So much passion I can’t contain.

I cry harder.

I pinch harder.

I’m still angry.

I can’t breath.

My head hurts.

My eyes hurt.

Pain. Release. Calm.

Nothing is helping.

I’m tired.

I can’t do it anymore.

The anger has won for now.

I cry.

I pinch myself.

I will not cut.

I am angry.

I will not punch a wall.

I am angry.

I admit my anger has gotten the best of me.

I accept it.

I will overcome it soon.

I am angry.

I am not destructive.

Returning Home & Finding Strength

Here I am, finding myself in an all-too-familiar place. I am home. Bay Area roots keep me close to my family. Faces are different, of course, but the smells, trees, and sounds are all the same from when I grew up here. I decided to leave home for the first time in 2007; I was running away from a lot of pain. I wrote my memoirs about that painful journey. I did return home in 2008, but I decided to go to school instead of back to the streets. I moved away from home again in 2010 to continue my schooling. After graduation, in 2014, I left Oregon and hit the road where I spent a year on a homeless, but protected journey. The book I wrote was about my life’s voyage before my college experience. Of course, I needed to experience my college journey before writing the book. Well, I spent 7 years in the college university system and now I’m back home.

I’m preparing for the next journey. Not only am I preparing for my own journey, I am preparing for my man’s journey too. It’s interesting to see how things have progressed over the years. As I traveled through the university system, he traveled through the prison system. As I worked on finding myself, he worked on finding himself. Now, we’re back in contact after about 12 years of knowing each other. You see, writing my book brought him and I back together. I keep telling people that he is the main character in my book. He is whom I fell in love with. He is whom I watched get married. He is who helped me realize being a prostitute wasn’t something I wanted to continue doing. I needed to leave. So, I did. Yes, the man I am in love with now is the same man I was in love with years ago. Yes, he is the main character in my book and he knows it. He honors it. He takes pride in it.

The thing is, however, that exact character in my book isn’t the same man I’m in love with now. The character in my book is a combination of about three or four different clients. All the characters in my book are a combination of clients. The way I wrote my book was from the eyes of a damaged young woman who was fighting to keep her pain hidden. I was in no position to love anyone because I didn’t love myself. I now find myself wanting to strengthen my body, mind, and spirit. I now find myself loving myself on a deeper level then ever before. I know I am worthy of love. I know I am worthy of a relationship full of respect, honor, and trust. I know I am worthy of being the kind of woman my man needs so he can grow and strengthen his body, mind, and spirit.

My book has brought us back together, and we are preparing for a life that will not only benefit each other, but also benefit others. The love we have created is going to shine so bright that we’ll touch the lives of people we meet. I want to help others. He wants to help others. I’ve spent many nights reading articles, writing research papers, and busting my ass to graduate. He has spent many nights alone, reading books, and simply thinking about what was and what is. I spent my time in college connecting with people and encouraging growth. He spent time in prison keeping to himself and staying clean. I learned so much about myself and how the world functions that I am ready to take this knowledge and put it to use. We want to combine what I know about my time in the university system with the knowledge he knows about the time spent in the prison system. Together, him and I are going to create something so unique.

I’m ready. He’s almost ready. There is much fear involved with the huge transition that’s coming our way. But I am preparing. He is preparing. We are both scared. We are both full of God’s grace. We are both encouraging growth and understanding. We love with respect and honor. We love with faith and prayer. Our journey hasn’t even started yet. Him and I are still working on our individual selves. We have a lot of work ahead of us. I am home again, where I belong. I’m not running away this time. He’ll be home soon. Together we will build a castle with roots that dig deep.

My Dreams and Desires come with High Expectations of Myself

It’s been a confusing adventure since graduating with my bachelors degree in June 2014. I’ve been homeless for over a year now. Yes, I had places to stay, and I was not on the streets for long. I did have support. I did have people who took me in. Honestly, I believe that while I was on this homeless adventure, I cashed in on karma points I racked up over the four years I lived in Oregon. I helped many people with no expectation or desire to be paid back for any of it. I helped people because they needed it and in turn, people helped me when I needed it. The thing is, however, I find myself upset about recent activities in my life. I find myself feeling as if someone owes me something, but I also know that isn’t true. I find myself with much hostility and a little give a damn. I find myself working through another cycle of PTSD because I trusted the wrong people once again, and I’m back on my homeless adventure.

I’m focusing my energy on what I need to accomplish now. I can’t have the sorrows of others becoming my own sorrows again. I was almost stuck in a situation that would have been very difficult to live with. I was uncomfortable, which encouraged me to focus on change; I was manifesting change, but I wasn’t expecting it to happen so quick. In the last year, it seems that as soon as I trusted my environment and found some comfort, I had to pack up quickly and move on to another place. Realizing all the quick changes, I kept telling myself that things happen for a reason, and I will continue to make my choices based on intuition. My intuitive nature has gotten me out of many potentially bad experiences. Yes, it has a lot to do with my choices toward the negative energy I have encountered, and maybe a part of me regrets reacting the way I did. Then again, when I look at it from all angles, I think that where I am and where I’m heading is exactly where I need to be.

Am I following my heart? Absolutely!

To me, going full circle means recognizing the past and present as a combined force that creates the future. As soon as I land my feet back in the Bay Area, I will consider my life to have taken a full circle. Okay, of course, things can always change and nobody really knows what the future holds. Nonetheless, I know that where I’m heading next is because I have visited and accepted my past. I started writing my memoirs during my senior year, and the PTSD and healing that came from that has strengthened my mind, body, and soul. Now, it’s time for me to focus on what I need to do to succeed for my future. All that matters right now is my future, which is not planned, but it is fated with passion and desire. It’s amazing to think that the book I wrote my senior year is the same book that got me back in contact with my man. I have a lot of research to do. I have plenty of things to find out. With all that I need to do, I have high expectations of myself, and I have faith that I will accomplish my dreams.

My dreams are big, my desires are strong, and my passion is empowering. The trauma I’ve experienced in my past is nothing more than pieces of the puzzle. Visiting my past has encouraged me to write my memoirs, which will be published soon. Accepting my past gave me strength to reach out to an old friend and lover. That old friend and lover is now the man I have chosen to plan my future with. He’s the memory from my past that takes up the majority of my book. He is my best friend, my partner, and my rock. As I said, my future is not planned, but with him by my side, it will be lived with much laughter, trust, and honor. Combining my past with my present has been a journey I will never forget; it’s in hundreds of hand-written letters. I have found love. I have found forgiveness. I have found me. What I will do with all of it is unsure, but becoming an author has been a long time dream. So, my standards are set for my success and with that success will come many more conversations about my passion for life and the importance of happiness.

WEEK 26 – THE POWER OF PEOPLE

CREATIVE NUMEROLOGY by Christine DeLorey

week 26Dylann Roof did not get his sordid wish of starting America’s second civil war. Instead, when he decided to wipe out 9 beautiful black lives as they engaged in bible study in their church on June 17, he illuminated the fact that the first civil war never ended in the minds of whole generations of people.

But it is ending now as the old structures of hate, cruelty, and racism come tumbling down.  The southern states are dominated by symbols of that war, which was based on slavery and the ‘classification’ of human beings – and modern day policies which continue to oppress and suppress black citizens. It is the class system at its worst, its very existence based on the practice of ‘divide and conquer’. 

9 people were killed by a shard of hate that originated from that system. 9 is the number of endings, and this sad ending is quite visibly evolving into…

View original post 1,782 more words

Finding Happiness through Life’s Traveled Path

happy333

To what extent do we allow the opinions of others to interfere with our life? The choices I’ve made throughout my adult life (let’s say the last 8 years), have been made with consideration of others. I weighed the options of how my decisions would affect the people in my life. It was difficult to do, but I did it often. Since last year’s breakdown/breakthrough and the effect it had on my overall way of life, I’ve found myself making choices that best suits me and my needs. I thought making choices for my own life’s happiness was selfish, but it turns out it’s not. I can’t allow people to interfere with my happiness any longer. I always took the passenger seat when it concerned life choices. I allowed other people to provide me with a path and I just followed them on it. I thought it worked pretty well, but I was wrong.

It’s been a year since I graduated with a B.S. in anthropology. I haven’t come to terms with that yet. I haven’t really seen the accomplishment of it yet. I’m the first in my family to get a degree; and that hasn’t sunk in either. But it’s been a year since completing that 7-year journey of a college education. It’s strange, really. Going to school wasn’t even my idea. I never really wanted an education; it was just something to do. The colleges I picked were because they were close to either family or friends. I didn’t research my college options. I didn’t even research a degree I wanted; I just took random classes and someone said I’d easily graduate with this degree or that degree. It wasn’t like I said, “I’m going to school for journalism and anthropology.” Not even a little bit. I moved from state to state because someone wanted me to. I got involved with programs on campus because someone said I’d be good at it. I traveled to Haiti because someone caught my attention. Things in my life have happened because of other people’s influence on me.

It wasn’t until I graduated, lost my home, became homeless, and distanced myself from many friends that I realized my happiness wasn’t real happiness. I was always traveling someone else’s road and I needed to build my own road. I needed to find out what made me happy. So, I set forth on a mental journey of what made me happy. You see, before college, I was a warehouse worker. I was a prostitute. I was a young woman lost in many ways. I realized though, my true happiness was tucked away in those memories. Traveling back to my old memories buried deep within my heart and soul shined so much light on my situation. I found my happiness. I found the path that was set forth many years ago. Revisiting that path reminded me of what I truly wanted in life. Let me tell you, it’s stronger and more powerful than I could have ever imagined.

The love for life, appreciation for life, and outright praise for life I am learning right now is like nothing I could have ever dreamt up. It’s beyond anything I thought possible. Do I owe it to someone else for these newly developed “ah ha” moments? No. I owe it to myself. I owe it to the Universe. I owe it to God. Being happy isn’t about what you have or how much money you can claim. Happiness isn’t about who is or isn’t your friend. Happiness isn’t about where you live or what you drive. I’ve learned that happiness is about HOW you live. Happiness is about HOW you feel about yourself. Happiness is about accepting the flaws of yourself.

Along the journey of revisiting my memories, I accepted my past on a level that gave me the courage to reach out to someone I am now falling in love with. He’s an old friend. I have missed him over the years. Being in contact with him again has brought so much into my life. He’s become my best friend. He’s become my cheerleader. He’s become my … shall I say it … everything. There, I said it. I am in love with this man. And, to the joys of it all, he’s in love with me too. I fear I am over romanticizing it though. I fear I am getting back into my routine of allowing other people to direct my path. I fear I am making choices based on other people’s opinion or input. But, this … I don’t think so. In fact, I know so.

The road of memories I revisited is now becoming a road of future aspirations. I’m not rebuilding my life’s path, I am building on my life’s path. The foundation was already set. Honestly, I believe it’s God’s Will. I was meant to go through the stages of my life so it would prepare me for the life I am building with this man. I just recently became a truck driver. I am traveling the U.S. highways and delivering goods so consumers can have their things. The skills I am learning as a truck driver is building on top of the skills I learned as a shipping and receiving supervisor. Warehouse work, truck stops, big 18-wheelers, and the filthiness that comes with it all is where my happiness is. Writing letters to my man, reading his written thought process, and having 15-minute phone calls is where I’m finding my happiness. I’ve realized my happiness is with him. My happiness is in his embrace, his kisses, and the feel of his hands again. Nobody told me to reach out to him. In fact, many have told me not to stay in contact with him. Nobody told me to try truck driving as a career. Nobody suggested I get ride of all my belongings and live out of a truck. Nobody guided me to this place I am at right now. I am here because I want to be here. I am living my life this way because it makes me happy. I am falling in love with someone because my true life’s happiness awaits me.

The Moment Fear Turns to Courage

“We gain strength, and courage, and confidence
by each experience in which we really
stop to look fear in the face…
we must do that which
we think we cannot.”
~Eleanor Roosevelt

One must first be scared or anxious before they are courageous. In all things I have tried to succeed at, I have been slightly terrified the entire time. The more I followed that dream I set forth, the anxiety faded, of course, but I was still nervous about whatever it was I was trying to accomplish. It started with my path of college in 2008 when I enrolled at LMC to study journalism. The entire two years I spent there was full of so much anxiety and learning self-love. I was living in my hometown, constantly looking over my shoulder and hoping I would never cross paths with an old client; and I didn’t. I submerged myself into college, and I lived each day with as much focus toward a new life. In doing so, I turned my back on the person I truly am. It’s all good though, I’ve reintroduced myself to myself again.

I believe I had to hide that warehouse worker and prostitute into a corner so I could spend more time on school and getting to know myself on a different level. When attending the university system, nobody knew about my past. Nobody knew anything about me. I hardly shared anything about my past, and it didn’t seem that anyone was interested; which, I’m grateful for. I don’t know if I would have admitted the prostitution. I’m sure I would have lied about a lot if someone wanted to know what life was like for me at the warehouse. I didn’t want anyone knowing I was a mistress to many men. I didn’t even want to admit it to myself. I hid from that woman. Really, I was more like a girl on many levels then.

Not only have I written my memoirs about that time at the warehouse, I’ve sent it to the publisher already. I’m scared. I’m scared my clients or even family will read it. I’m scared it’ll be published, printed, and sold in many book stores. I’m scared of that success. But, it’s the same feeling toward my goals of accomplishing seven years of college. My college experience gave me the skills to write my book, so it’s all synced together. The four years I spent at WOU brought so much enlightenment. Owning a home, connecting with my ancestors, and traveling to Haiti changed the way I saw life; it made me want to share my story. It made me grow. It made me want to change; so I did.

I identified with that warehouse harlot I spent so much time running away from. Not only did I recognize her, I validated her and have fallen in love with her. I’m a worker. My body, mind, and soul are made to work. I cannot be a paper pusher. I cannot be someone stuck behind a desk and a computer. Who and what I am meant to be is all wrapped up in hip-hop music, blue-collar work, and sexual passions. Yes, the time spent in the college system taught me that I am a leader. I have a gift. It’s a gift I will not go into detail about now because it’s off topic, but the time spent in college taught me how to be a leader. But, the college industry is not where I belong. The corporate world is not where I belong. So, after graduation (almost a year ago), I had to find another path.

After losing my home in Oregon, I hit the road and found Colorado as my new stomping grounds. I’ve been here for six months and I’m doing something that terrifies me once again. Like I said, once I start something new I have an anxiety over it. I have this feeling that I’m not good enough. I don’t think I will fail, because I know I’ll succeed – lol – I have that faith in myself that I’ll kick ass at this new position (details in a minute). My lack of confidence is what drives me to do the best job that I can. Yes, I’m hard on myself. Yes, I have negative self-talk. Yes, I tell myself “You suck at life, Jo.” But, it doesn’t keep me down. It doesn’t keep me from accomplishing what it is I’ve set forth. That negative talk is what motivates me. I tell myself, after I tell myself that I suck, that I do not suck! Yes, I converse with myself about this all the time. Not only am I my worst critic, I am my best motivational speaker. I have learned that I need validation from the people who are teaching me new skills. That’s a childhood thing, I think. The lack of confidence I have in myself is from childhood trauma. I’ve had to learn how to motivate myself. I’ve had to learn to be my best motivational speaker because nobody ever gave me credit or validated me for anything I did; well, except for all the great blow jobs I gave. I was recognized for that, which is why I continued to do it. To be honest, it was the only thing I felt I was good at during that time in my life because it was the only thing I was recognized for. Now, however, I believe I am good at many more things.

This is where my new path comes in. I’m learning to be a truck driver. I have driven the truck a few times and I’m doing a good job. I get frustrated because I feel I should already get it. But damn! For someone who’s never driven a stick before, I’m doing alright. There are things I need to learn, of course. There are things I’m still having a hard time with, but I’m doing it. Yeah, I’m scared. Yeah, I’m anxious. Yeah, the nerves are tight when I’m driving. But, I’m doing it. That anxiety it keeping me going. When I hit a cone for the first time in the yard, I jumped out of the truck and said, “Damn it Jo! You suck.” Then, I laughed at myself, kicked the cone, and said, “Nah, you got this Jo! You’re doing fine.” And really, I did great. I am doing well. I’ve only killed the truck once. I’m learning how to downshift, which is the hardest damn thing I’ve ever tried to do. Or is it? I mean really. It seems like the hardest thing because it’s all new, and I have no knowledge of what I’m doing except the three times I’ve been behind the wheel. So yeah, it’s hard. But I got this!

I’m learning a new skill that will allow me to travel the country. I’m going to see so many new places and meet so many new people. Because I have identified with the warehouse harlot as well as the college leader, I’m going to kick so much ass on the road. Yeah, I ran away from that girl I was 10+ years ago, but after reconnecting with her and loving her for who she really is, I’m so grateful for all the experiences I had during that time; even the nasty hard experiences. They’re there, and I’m going to own that shit and continue to share my story with others. People have told me that I’m courageous for sharing my story and doing the truck driving thing. Is it courage? I mean, yeah one needs to be scared and anxious before they can be considered courageous, so I guess so, because damn y’all I’m terrified about what’s next. But regardless, I’m doing it, and I’m so fuckin’ excited I can’t hardly contain myself these days.

So look y’all, I share this blog with you because if you read it I hope you’ll be motivated on some level to accomplish something that you’re afraid of. Do you have a dream you’ve been dreaming? Take a step toward that dream no matter how scary it may seem. Use that fear, anxiety, and terror and focus it toward accomplishing something in your life. We are seeing dark days in our world. There is constant war, death, and open hatred toward others. But when we really identify with ourselves and love ourselves for all that we are, we can shine our lights and over power that darkness. It’s time for us to rise. It’s time for us to recognize our light within ourselves and shine bright. There are millions of us out there who are shinning already and I encourage all of you to shine, too. Please. We need you.

Revisiting my past is building my future

          The topic of discussion is depression, fear, struggles of falling in love, revisiting the past, and the hardships of keeping ones shit together when it seems their entire life is falling apart. My discussion is, of course, centered on my recent life events; I say recent, indicating the last two years, really. I’m going to start this discussion with my detoxification of my uterus. There isn’t a fiber of my being that wasn’t affected by that experience. My body has obviously changed. My mind is not the same. My spirit has taken on a new course of responsibility. I am not the same person I was when I started the process in 2013. I never expected the shit to happen the way it has, and I’m beyond grateful for how it’s all happened. I now have a working reproductive system, and I did it by myself. I didn’t go to any doctors, and I sure as hell didn’t have any procedures that would allow objects to scrap the inside of my body. Nope! I prayed. I meditated. I soaked in the light of the full moon. I spoke to my ancestors. I reached out beyond this realm, and I found more than I was asking for.

          With the steps taken during this time, I internalized. I didn’t share my experience with anyone except for two people. One is no longer a part of my life; he’s missed greatly. The other one is still very prominent in my life, and I appreciate her more than words can express. I was extremely depressed during this time in my life, and I struggled with a lot of loss. So-called friends distanced themselves from me, too. Not only was I alone, I felt lonely and abandoned. Coming to terms with the loss of my unborn child from 15 years prior, I found a sense of peace within myself. I wasn’t lonely any longer. This uterus cleanse that I did to myself was brutal; I’ve explained this before. Like I said, it wasn’t only physical. This was an entire make over of every aspect of my being. I tapped into my higher self and my lower self. I spoke to my unborn child. I spoke to my previous lives. I identified with my purpose. I knew I was destined to be a mother.

          After I gathered the broken pieces of my life, I started feeling better about myself because I had identified with my past sorrows that were keeping me down. My detox cleared out some major cobwebs of my soul. I started exercising. I picked up yoga again. I found a comfort in being alone. Then, I started planning my trip to Haiti. Being out there continued to shape my thought process; my thoughts changed again. My aspirations grew stronger. I witnessed things I still cannot explain. I honestly believe something from my experiences in Haiti filled the void within my soul that was from the loss of my child. I misread some signs too. Messages that came to me were mixed with a different reality. I made mistakes. I have forgiven myself for those mistakes, of course. And the love that blossomed will forever be a part of me and those involved. Coming home from Haiti and remembering all that I went through that year with my detox, I found myself revisiting my past. I started writing my memoirs.

          This choice, based on my decision making process to take this class my senior year, was the starting point of my entire future. I had spent many years running away from a part of my past that I didn’t want to identify with. I didn’t want my new friends to know about it. But, when I started writing about it, that all changed. With my newfound strength of being alone, and the courage I found within myself from traveling to Haiti, I fell in love. I feel deeply in love. I visited the depth of my soul. I found a lot down there, too. During that journey of deep Jo diving, however, I found something I had forgotten about. Digging down into the depths of my past, I remembered why I was running away. It was a painful thing to identify, and I’m still working on healing from that pain. This was one of the hardest lessons I had to learn, but I learned it, for sure. Love will do that to ya. Upon opening the floodgates of lost love and broken promises, I found myself nearly broken once again.

          More friends distanced themselves because I was being a complete bitch; I was keeping so much internalized again. I still didn’t want to share my past with anyone; it hurt too much. During this time, a little pixie and her son visited me; they kept me alive. They kept me motivated and allowed my inner child to play freely. I didn’t want to be an adult, so I wasn’t. I let myself go completely. I was spiraling down further than any depth I had reached during depression. I kept highly intoxicated so I wouldn’t deal with the pain. I covered it up. Then I realized I had used all my rent money on weed and alcohol; I couldn’t afford to live in that place any longer, and not just financially, but life in general. I am sure I would have taken my own life if I stayed there. I am sure of it. The depression and negativity I was living with would have taken its toll on me; so, I left.

          I didn’t know what I was doing, where I was going, or how I was going to get there. All I knew was that I needed to go. I picked Colorado as my destination, and I made it. And, of course, the depression, past sorrows, and newfound strength all followed me, too. The things I identified with during my detox, trip to Haiti, falling in love, and writing my memoirs has all followed me here. Right now, this very moment, I can still feel the warmth of these experiences. I know my higher being, God Himself, is guiding me on my path. It was my decision to leave a home I loved that has brought me to this place I am at right now; I am homeless. I am struggling. I am scared. I am blessed, honored, and madly in love again. Home is where the heart is, right? Well, my heart is locked up for two more years. The difficult transition I’m in will only bring more warmth and light, I’m sure of it. Digging to the depth of my soul has reminded me of who I am, and I will not hide from that person any longer. I refuse.

          I am not living in my past, not at all, but it is my past that is building my future. I need to remind myself what I’ve done, where I’m from, and why I am who I am. I’ve come a long way since that dirty warehouse worker who got involved in many sexual acts. Even though I can still recall the smell of oil, propane, and wet boxes, I need to identify with where I am today. Even though I can still taste the passionate release of my clients, I need to identify with who I am today. It’s hard though. I struggle with it because I have hidden that part of my past from everyone I ever encountered. It’s not that I’m afraid of judgment, no. What I’m afraid of is expressing my enjoyment. I’m afraid if I express how much I miss my clients, how much I miss giving blow jobs, and how much I want to experience it all again … I’m afraid I’ll go back into the business.

          There is an opportunity that is knocking at my door, and I want it more than anything I have ever wanted in my life. It’s a revisit of my past, of course. It’s a door reopened. It’s an opportunity for me to learn new skills and make a lot of money. I need to recognize that I am not reliving my past. I need to realize that my choices now are based on knowledge of self, knowledge of other, and knowledge of how society works. As a college graduate, who studied anthropology, I am sure to follow this dream and not make the same mistakes I made before. It’s terrifying though. The fear is what’s making me do it. I swear, if it wasn’t for the fact that I am scared out of my mind right now, I wouldn’t be following this hidden dream. I wouldn’t be playing with the hidden gem I found while I dug to the depths of my soul. If it wasn’t for this fear, I wouldn’t be alive. I wouldn’t have the opportunity to do God’s work. I wouldn’t be writing this blog, right now …

A Righteous Path of Faith, Self Reflection and Homelessness

What does one do when they realize they might have fucked up? Laugh! I find myself laughing! I catch myself dancing. I still pray often; in fact, I started reading the bible for the first time ever. I am always writing. And, I tell myself that “This too shall pass.”

Did I fuck up though? Am I a fuck up? That self-dialog does tend to come sneaking in when I’m feeling lost. You see, depression is no joke, and when one is homeless, sleeping in their car or crashing on the couches of strangers, one must ask … What went wrong? Where did I mess up? How did I get here? Then, the anxiety sneaks in and breathing become so difficult. Breathing is hard. Oh the sting and fear of suicide is still there. Those thoughts will always be there. But I’m stronger than that.

I am stronger than that, indeed!

My ego and pride are out the window at this point. My weakness is my strength. To admit that the situation I am in is absolutely from my own choices. I blame nobody but myself. Yeah, I did this. To admit that says a lot. I don’t blame the system. I don’t blame the choices of other people. I don’t blame the trauma from my childhood. I don’t blame any of it. Actually, I don’t even blame myself I guess.

This is my life right now. I just graduated less than a year ago and I’m officially homeless. It’s strange. I have a car – which has radiator problems, of course (lol) – but I have a car. I have food. I have clothes on my back. And I have a new friend’s roof over my head for now. That little girl within myself that I’ve been tending to over the years is safe. The strong woman I have become is responsible for only myself. I do not have children (yet), and I have the loving support of a strong man behind me.

I’m scared though. I know I won’t be able to live this way for long. Not having a safe place to rest my head on a regular basis will take its toll on my life and spiritual strength. I am still weak. I am still afraid. I am confused. I am loved, supported, and respected by my peers. The Universe has brought me to this place and I have accepted it fully. When I’m in my moment, I feel a sense of calm. Even with the anxiety attacks from sleeping in my backseat when it’s 12 degrees outside, there’s a sense of love and light.

Homelessness is not a choice. I have two jobs. I’m working on many things but I have very little cash. I’m in debt, I have no credit, and home is far far away. It’s up to me now to get myself out of this situation I’ve put myself into. I know this. Nobody is going to bail me out this time. My tight support group has become smaller and smaller as time goes on, and right now I question those who once considered themselves loyal friends. It’s strange that I have revisited an old love from 10+ years ago, which has brought me to a place I never thought possible.

My next step will need to be thought out and strategically planned because the next journey I set forth for myself will also be his path, too. Yes, I’m in love. That’s what’s getting me through this homeless situation I am in. It’s where the laughs come from. His love has brought dancing back into my daily life. I have found God because of this man, and there’s nothing that can happen in my life that will break me down. The love we have built and revisited has given me the strength and encouragement that I need to further this path of righteousness of self reflection, homelessness, and faith.

We are doing God’s work.
We are students of His.
We will continue to work with the love and light we have together, even when I’m homeless and he’s … well, he’s stuck right now.
My guardians and spirit guides are telling me stay put and focus on myself for awhile; so that’s what I’m doing…

Oh, and I’m still writing about that Bay Area Harlot I once was ❤ Publications soon, y’all!