I've been trying to be much more intentional about stopping to appreciate where life has brought me from and to. As I add experiences to my rolodex I can't help but think back on the boxes I've broken out of.

**Trigger Warning**

I grew up in a broken and abusive home. My father died by suicide before I was born. My mother used me as a trophy for her own ego, bragging about my accomplishments while simultaneously murdering my spirit every chance she got and depriving me of a relationship with my Dad (step-father).

I left New Orleans when I went off to college. I knew I had to leave so I could experience a different way of living outside of my upbringing…

Well I haven’t done this in quite a while. A few days shy of 3 years to be exact. I’ve been avoiding it if I’m completely honest. I still don’t want to do it, but I’m choosing to be obedient because God told me to, and I’ve learned obedience is so much better than sacrifice. But when I’m honest, sometimes I just don’t be feeling like feeling, if you know what I mean. I’ve actually been working on that lately...allowing myself to feel. I used to think that if I started feeling I wouldn’t be able to stop and my whole day would consist of me sitting in a corner curled up crying or something. I’m learning that if I create space to feel that the feelings will pass through me and I’ll feel so much better on the other side of it. So...here goes with what brings me back to this space of writing and embracing another part of my truth.

This weekend I have been blessed to hear from 2 dear friends who have taken the time to remind me of who I am and have always been. They have the special skill of seeing me, even when I can’t see myself. We need people like this around to keep us living in truth. People rely on me a lot to have answers about things and to offer words of advice and encouragement.  Rarely is that favor returned the way it has been this weekend.

I've been putting this blog post off for quite a while because I didn't want to deal with it.  Sometimes I don't like to feel.  I am a master compartmentalizer.  I put things in boxes all the time.  And then when I feel I can, I unpack the box and deal with what is inside.  This box has been unpacked and repacked many times.  Every so often, I take one item out and kind of throw it out there to see how the world will react, knowing there is so much more that I am supposed to unpack.  I lie to myself and say, you told your story, now you can move on to something brighter and happier.  But I haven't even told a corner of it.  There may be 5 people on this earth that know the totality of what's inside my box.  And I'm honestly not even sure if they have put all the pieces together.  But what I do know, is that it is time for me to use my voice and my platform to remove the shame and embarrassment that so many feel.  So here goes...

This is why I started this blog.  It gives me a chance to share my life experiences in the hope that I will empower someone else to own their truth and walk in it with their head held high.  Everyone has a past.  Everyone has been through something. None of us are in a position to judge someone else or make them feel small because of their life experience.  I'm here to normalize transparency.  Some of my lessons were big and some were small, but they were all pivotal in getting me to my current place of freedom.   I thank God for them all, both the good and the bad. They have all shaped me and are all a part of my unique purpose. 

I've never publicly shared the details of all that I'm about to share because I used to be embarrassed.  I'm happy to say I no longer am.  So consider yourself in on some exclusive details into my life.  So here we go...

It's almost time for me to go home for my annual Essence Festival appearance.  It's one of the highlights of my year.  I just love being around so many black people who are moving in a positive direction.  I anticipate this year will bring many more folks since the release of "Girls Trip."   We've got a full weekend packed with sites and sounds and lots of people watching.  Inevitably I'll run into folks that I haven't seen in a while, whether they be family or old school mates.  While I enjoy these sightings and love catching up and celebrating success, I always have to go through my "fix your face" exercises.  I have what we call a "Leaky Face."  Leaky Face is a condition in which your inside thoughts show on your outside face.  I've gotten better at controlling it, but a few things always bring it out.  You see I am a 37 year old, plus sized, single woman with no kids. And that always leads to comments. 

Father's Day is coming up and this year I'm making a conscious choice to make sure I acknowledge it in a way that I never have, by owning my truth.  You see, I grew up without a father, even though one was in the house.  Makes no sense, right?  But this was very much my life.  In order to prevent confusion let me define the terms I'm using here.  Father refers to my biological father.  Dad refers to my stepfather. Let me go ahead and say here that you may want to brace yourself because it gets a bit confusing and I've got quite a bit to share. So here goes...

I have vivid memories of sitting in my 5th grade classroom being addressed by Child Protective Services.  They were talking to us about speaking up if someone was hurting us.  Now that I think about it, I'm not really sure why they were there.  Maybe it was customary, or maybe they had a tip.  But nonetheless, I was sitting there weighing my options.  If I say something, they might be able to help me.  But if they can't how can I ever go home?  This time she might kill me for real.  I sat there with fresh welts on my body from the night before.