Healing Gaia

This piece was created as an answer to the prompt: "Write about your favorite poem".
My favorite poem has been Mother to Son by Langston Hughes since the sixth grade.
A copy of that poem can be found at the end of my writing.

_________________________________________________________________________

Looking down at my belly,
I see the stretched skin staring back at me.
White marks that run parallel to the place where you laid.
I think of my womb that cradled you

and kept you safe.

Now I hold you in my arms with fear.
Scared to show you to the world. 
Afraid of what you might find there,
or what might find you.

I see your face and am reminded of the splinters on my feet 
and the boards torn up in my childhood.
Hoping you never have to feel this hurt on yours.
Hoping you will be

reachin’ landin’s

and turnin’ corners 
to places accepting of you.

I realized a bit too late,

it feels, 
that I need to remove the tacks laid in to my cork board heart. 
The work feels endless.
The only way out is through, 
I'm reminded, 
but laying myself bare like floors with no carpet on them 
makes me want to run.
I can't turn back from this healing though;
It's good for us,

even when I find it kinda hard.

I wonder if one day you will ever know that I kept climbin’ on.
Wincing from my scratched feet in the dark. 
Arms open wide to the sky; 
tired from the weight of the prayers I say,

hoping you will always see the light in life.

Sweet child, 
I tell you,
life for me ain't been no crystal stair.
I’ve learned though,

no matter who you are 
It won’t ever be.
Even so, I work everyday in hopes that it can be as close to crystal 

for you.

______________________________________________________________________________

Mother to Son

By: Langston Hughes

Well, son, I’ll tell you:
Life for me ain’t been no crystal stair.
It’s had tacks in it,
And splinters,
And boards torn up,
And places with no carpet on the floor—
Bare.
But all the time
I’se been a-climbin’ on,
And reachin’ landin’s,
And turnin’ corners,
And sometimes goin’ in the dark
Where there ain’t been no light.
So boy, don’t you turn back.
Don’t you set down on the steps
’Cause you finds it’s kinder hard.
Don’t you fall now—
For I’se still goin’, honey,
I’se still climbin’,
And life for me ain’t been no crystal stair.

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lol, I'm pregnant

I am someone who has always loved children in all their stages.

Alien, newborn, cute baby, mean toddler, funny kid, awkward teenager,

I can find something about each stage of a child’s growth that makes it special.

I also have never envisioned a life where I didn’t experience the journey of motherhood in some form.

Whether that meant physically having a baby, mentoring, fostering, babysitting, or being the bougie auntie, it was a non-negotiable,

there would always be kids in my life.

When my husband and I got married we made a 5-year plan of things to do before we had kids.

We wanted to see more of the world, save money, and buy a home but then,

I got pregnant.

While it felt like a surprise, it wasn’t.

We had talked about having a baby sooner since the things we were waiting for just weren’t enough to hold us back from starting a family.

What was a surprise? HOW FAST IT HAPPENED!

Being in my 30s and getting off of birth control, I thought it would take me MONTHS to have a baby but literally, it was

ONE-SHOT, ONE KILL, WHATS THE DEAL!

& on December 23rd, 2021 (4 days before my missed period) something told me to take a test and our lives changed forever.

I then proceeded to take tests every day for two weeks because I was in shock.

The disbelief left little by little as the purple line on the test got darker every day indicating to me that my baby’s hormone levels were multiplying and that I was going to be a mom.

I was prepared to be scared and to fear the unknown but what I wasn’t prepared for was the depression, social changes, and the toll pregnancy would take on my body.

My friends and I always thought I would be the sunshine flowers, one with mother nature person when I got pregnant, and let me tell you

I AM FUCKING NOT.

I’M THE OPPOSITE.

I’M TEAM EVICT THIS BABY FROM MY UTERUS.

I’M TEAM PREGNANCY IS GHETTO.

I’M TEAM I DON’T UNDERSTAND HOW OR WHY ANY PERSON WITH A UTERUS WOULD LIKE THIS!

I spent the first 3 months of my pregnancy in a deep depression, suffering from non-stop nausea and a very unsupportive OB/GYN team. I spent the next 3 months of my pregnancy not AS depressed but dealing with medical racism and feeling as if no matter what I did I was going to have a very bad labor and delivery. Now in my last trimester, I have reflected on my pregnancy and decided to withdraw and find my peace.

Here is why.

I realized that the changes my body went through so early on began my cycle of depression. I had no control of my body for the first time in a long time and it was triggering and unsafe for me. No matter how much I tried I just couldn’t get myself to work out or move around and the one outlet that made me feel strong and powerful now made me feel weak and defeated.

I also began growing a belly very early which prompted me to announce the news earlier than my logical and emotional sides could handle. It invited comments and people’s opinions way earlier than I was prepared for. I had no time to sit with myself and really understand what was happening to me, and my depression worsened with the inundation of well-meaning comments from friends and family.

It felt like every time I spoke about my pregnancy, which was usually me complaining (because AGAIN this shyt is ghetto), I would be met with comments that were insensitive and invalidated my feelings.

& the unsolicited advice was unbearable.

Every time I had to validate that I am doing everything I absolutely can before I’m allowed sympathy just broke me.

The script was always, “yes I have a doula, yes I changed my OB/GYN provider, yes I am in therapy, yes I’m still on my meds, yes I’m going to pelvic floor PT, yes I’m seeing a chiropractor, yes I’m doing ball sits, yes I’m doing everything I can think of and none of it is enough!”

I was lonely.

I’m not going to say I was alone, but I had no one to relate to.

I was emotionally exhausted and tired of constantly explaining why I do things or think the way I do.

I was looking to just be heard, for people to hold space for me but every time I opened up I was met with opinions and thoughts I wasn’t looking for.

I realized that I was putting everyone else’s feelings of sadness because they didn’t know how to support me above my own feelings of trauma and grief and it just wasn’t ok anymore.

So I withdrew.

I stopped talking to people about my pregnancy.

I stopped explaining.

& funny enough through that I found some semblance of peace.

There is a lot to still fear in pregnancy and in my near future of being a mom.

I’m scared my friends are going to abandon me.

I’m scared my husband won’t have time for me.

I’m scared my kid is going to grow up hating me.

I’m scared that I don’t recognize who I am anymore.

I’m scared that I am going to die while giving birth since the mortality rate of Black women is 4x higher than white women.

I’m scared of what it is going to look like for me to raise a Black boy (sex assigned at birth) in Amerikkka.

I’m scared of losing my child too soon.

I’m scared that my white family members will not understand that raising my Black child will look and be different.

I’m scared my body is broken forever.

I’m scared that my fear of men and all the trauma my body has held from men will be the only thing that shapes the kind of mother I am.

I’m scared because the illusion of having control in anything in this life has been completely shattered and I am stepping into a new world where I understand that I have no control, AND I DON'T LIKE IT.

Everything will continue to change. 

It is the only constant of living this human experience.

My pregnancy woes aren’t over yet.

I have 2 more months to go till my due date but I’ve decided that in this last trimester i'm going to prioritize what brings me joy, peace and healing.

I owe it to myself to have this time with me and I am hoping I will be a better mother because of it.

Affirmation: “My body is strong and capable. I choose to let go of my fearful thoughts so I can trust the process and allow my body to do its job.”

This is where I am, this is all I have left in me.

xoxo, Stephy

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Finally, I put my love on top!

My life is in transition but what else is new!

I quit my full-time job after 8 LONG years.

After having battled imposter syndrome, gaslighting, and constantly feeling undervalued while being overworked;

I decided to reclaim my time (like Auntie Maxine told me to do, okurrrr).

This wasn’t an easy decision.

As a child growing up in a community of immigrants with poverty and many forms of generational trauma around me,

the idea of not having a stable income for myself was triggering.

Dreams of money, fame, and power fed me as I struggled with the idea of achieving my “American Dream.”

Knowing deep down that “dream” wasn’t meant for people like me.

I wanted to be on top and have so much money,

buy a house,

send my kids to the best schools.

My family would want for NOTHING!

This dream fueled me until I entered the workforce full-time.

Then the hammer came crashing down on me.

Being a young person who presents to others as a woman in a male-dominated industry introduced to me a type of sexism and ageism I never experienced before.

I still get triggered thinking about the situations I have been in at work which I didn’t have the words to describe how they made me feel at the time.

It was a catch-22 where I would be applauded for putting my job first and working tirelessly but then my opinion was deemed invaluable because I presented as a woman.

I went from company to company, hoping for change, and decided to try my luck in corporate America.

It was a reprieve.

I was no longer being confronted with sexism but eventually something else crept up that I had no tolerance for,

Microaggressions.

Even though I spent a lot of time towards the end of my corporate career educating others on racism in the workplace,

the idea that people could just go back to work after these conversations took place didn’t sit right with me.

It made me OBSESS on why I couldn’t just jump back in to work and exacerbated my overall feeling of not being a valuable member of my team.

At some point, I got tired of feeling like who I am was a detriment to the places I worked for.

I had spent years being overlooked, treated unfairly and undervalued and then it suddenly all made sense to me.

Corporate culture and its passive-aggressive ideologies were not created for someone like me (a queer, female presenting, Afro-latinx person) to succeed.

Even though I came to this realization it didn’t stop the shame and guilt I felt for not finding success in corporate culture.

Not being career-oriented made me feel as if I was a lesser human and I let “the man” get the best of me.

As if, thinking about the decision to leave and God forbid actually go through with it undid the work all my feminist role models did for me.

I was looking back on the years of hard work and dedication trying to solve the puzzle of how I got here?

To this place of self-doubt, worry, shame, guilt, embarrassment and loneliness.

The degrees, accolades, and years of experience left me stuck in the same position where no one would ever see my potential.

I had heard of the glass ceiling women reach in their careers and my dream was to shatter it but damn,

how could I ever achieve that dream when I couldn’t even get past the entrance to the building the ceiling was in.

I had really convinced myself that I was mediocre and aiming too high in life.

All the nights I spent crying thinking of the money (because school ain’t cheap), time, and resources wasted on a dream I would never be good enough for.

It took a depressive episode where I couldn’t get out of my bed and months of feeling like there was no point in living to finally quit.

At this point I realized, like most other times in my life, I couldn’t heal in the same place where I was hurt.

So, I left.

I decided at that moment to pour into myself because I can’t quit on me!

I have gotten myself this far, and with a lot of self-love I could get me farther!

I am grateful for the privilege I have to take this time to really figure my shyt out;

grateful to my partner who simply told me, “I got us” when I made the decision to leave;

grateful for taking the chance on myself to have a different life than the one I planned to have.

My life is nothing like I imagined it would be,

it’s better,

and I intend to keep it that way!

xoxo – Stephy

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The Father Wound

Father’s day in the United States just passed and I found myself in a muted sadness.

Sad because I didn’t feel like I could partake in a genuine celebration of my father.

Muted because I have felt this sadness so frequently, it just doesn’t surprise me anymore.

I scrolled through all the Father’s Day posts on social media,

happy for others

but I couldn’t stop thinking about all the reasons I have distanced myself from my father.

My dad is an older Dominican man, set in his ways..

I believe his dedication to achieving fame, fortune, and keeping up with appearances have been his downfall.

As I have told him so many times, he has shown me the type of man I DO NOT want to marry.

Words that cut deep but I have no regret in saying them.

How I feel about my fathers example has always been true and my candor has always been my superpower.

I can remember a time when my dad was my hero, when I looked up to him and enjoyed his company.

A time when I saw him give up his last dollar on a toy to make me happy.

But as I grew up I started to see things differently.

He had changed in ways I couldn’t understand and resented.

I know my father has done his best to protect me and shield me from the traumatic experiences he has had in life

but it was painful to bear the brunt of the burden.

Now that I am older I can understand that humans are flawed, no one is perfect and my dad did his best.

He did his best with what he knew and thought was right.

At some point I decided his best just wasn’t enough anymore.

I was tired of playing the game of figuring out what he wants and needs from me so I can be a “good daughter”.

I know my dad loves me in his own way but I needed to distance myself from this relationship to grow.

In that distance I have learned, you cannot heal where you have been hurt and my father wound runs deep.

My family doesn’t always agree with my decision.

For the most part they believe that I am all he has and I should be trying more with him because, “you know how he is.”

But again, the brunt of the burden falling on me is exactly what I am trying to move away from.

When I reach out and my dad pretends I don’t, it hurts me.

When my dad bad-mouths me to other people, it hurts me.

What my family doesn’t always grasp is that it isn’t my responsibility to keep my dad around,

especially if he acts like he doesn’t want to be in my life.

His being in my life is a decision he has to make.

He has to be willing to work with me, now that I am an adult, so that we have a better understanding of each other.

But overall the response from my family doesn’t surprise me.

The father wound didn’t start with me.

It runs deep in my lineage.

I come from a line of women who have let the men they fear dictate their lives.

Over the years I have heard all the stories of the mothers before me,

recounting the abuse they sustained at the hands of their fathers and in turn as they grew older, the abuse from their husbands.

Women, holding on to the mantra of but he still loves me…

He disappointed me but he still loves me…

He spoke to me so nasty but I know he still loves me…

He leaves me for days but I know he still loves me…

He stays here even though he isn’t happy because he loves me...

In the distance I have taken from my father I learned “he still loves me” just isn’t enough.

My father wound runs deep.

I like to believe that I have broken the cycle of people in my family who remain loyal to the men who ruin them.

I have learned that I do not have to have the solution to make my relationship with my dad perfect.

It is what it is and in order to for it to be better it will take effort from him to show me he wants to be in my life.

xoxo,

Stephy

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Real Talk

First off I want to say thank you to my tribe and those of you who have been patient with my lack of posting.

I needed to go on an impromptu hiatus as I couldn’t give to others when my own cup was empty.

I have been struggling with depression over the past month and it has not been easy.

Feelings of hopelessness and doubt have filled my brain but what has been the most crushing and hardest to overcome is the loneliness.

The magnitude fluctuates everyday.

Sometimes I am reminded of all the love around me and filled with gratitude,

sometimes loneliness is all-encompassing and nothing fills the void.

When it takes hold I find myself crying,

endlessly,

thrusting my face into my hands to muffle the sounds.

I pray,

screaming to spirit to make it all go away,

hugging my chest to make sure i’m still breathing,

clutching my throat so that the cries will somehow stop.

It’s a funny trick your brain plays on you.

I know I have an amazing support system and resources available to me that I am grateful for

but I talk myself out of using them.

I tell myself that I am burdening others so I shouldn’t reach out.

I dont want to be the person bringing pessimistic vibes to the party.

At times I feel like if I reach out then I make things about me and the last thing I want to do is make anything about me.

I know that last part comes from trauma.

The trauma of being told on repeat that I am selfish and I make everything about me;

when really I was asking for emotional support the person was not equipped to provide.

But when my emotions take over it is hard to stick to the facts.

Even though it feels like I could have done more to combat this period of depression,

I don’t see the past few weeks as a setback.

I understand that living with depression and anxiety can be tough and I will have periods where the emotions take over.

As long as I continue to practice reaching out to my tribe (even when I don’t want to),

moving my body,

and speaking my truth to remove the stigma surrounding mental health disorders

I will be ok.

Healing is hard but I am doing it.

xoxo – Stephy

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Its the Esteem of Your MF Self

If someone asked you, “is there anything you want to change about yourself?”,

would you have an answer?

I always do.

The mole on my nose,

my hair,

my acne,

my body composition,

there is always something that needs to be fixed about me.

Having an answer to this question makes me feel like I’m failing in the self-love department.

I always thought the epitome of self-love was to be completely enamored with who you are,

feeling as if you have reached a state of flawlessness.

Self-love meant that if you had it your way there would be nothing to fix about you.

I’ve realized though, just like the world around me, the relationship you have with yourself isn’t black and white.

I’ve also realized, I have a very unrealistic idea of what self-love should look like.

There is no imperfection to conquer.

There is no perfect amount of self-esteem.

There is just the day to day choices you make.

Sometimes they are good decisions,

sometimes they aren’t,

& being upset with yourself does not automatically mean you hate yourself.

As a reflective person I am always thinking of ways I can be better.

But as long as I am playing the comparison game I will never find satisfaction in my life.

So if you ask me the question right now, “is there anything you want to change about yourself?”

My answer would be, not taking the time to water my own garden.

We’ve all heard the saying,

“the grass is greener where you water it”

& as corny as it sounds, it’s true.

All the time I spend playing the comparison game hinders me from actually doing better.

Every time I utter “why can’t I be the one who…”,

I should be reminding myself of the talent I have and the things I CAN DO.

As long as I am tending to my own garden,

and preparing the soil with the nutrients it needs,

the flowers I have chosen to plant will bloom.

My garden won’t be like anyone else’s.

It won’t be perfect.

I may change my mind on some things.

But it will be mine.

xoxo – Stephy

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Push It

Goals, we all have them.

But what happens when you accomplish something and instead of satisfaction you feel like you pushed yourself for little reward?

That was me two weeks ago as I completed an extremely tough half marathon.

It had been over a year since I raced, and I decided to run 13.1 miles in March because I missed the rush of training and wanted another medal in my collection.

What I didn’t understand at first was that a March race would mean running in adverse weather conditions, and generally trying to keep myself motivated in the dark winter months when all I wanted to do was cuddle under a warm blanket.

Training was up and down because of this learning curve, and I was not feeling prepared to complete my half confidently as race day approached.

Finally, it was March 21st, race day, and everything was going “wrong”.

It felt like I would never start but finally, 5 hours after the time I planned to start, I began to run.

Miles 1 through 6 felt like a breeze.

I was taking in the beautiful city views along the water and I felt invincible.

Then, I ran up my first hill.

Little did I know, every mile after that would be UPHILL, physically and mentally.

I trudged my way through miles 7, 8 and 9 telling myself I only had a few steps further to go.

My Quads burning, my calves on fire, my arms sore from swinging harder to will myself to keep going.

I kept trying to talk positively to myself,

“MIND OVER MATTER”

But I couldn’t do it, not in the way I was forcing myself.

I walked, miles 10 through 13.

My calf muscles cramping up with each step and my body in a state of pain I had never experienced on a run before.

I walked and felt defeated because this wasn’t how I envisioned finishing this race.

Once I crossed the finish line, I was met with cheers of,

“You did it! You completed your goal!”

but I was upset, distraught and disappointed.

I kept thinking about the value in this experience and if it was worth it for me to push through when I exerted way more energy and resources than I would have liked to finish.

It made me think about a lot of other decisions I have made in my life where I couldn’t allow myself to change my mind because I had committed to finishing.

Determination and loyalty are two of my best character traits but when mixed with stubbornness and ego it can be a bad combination.

I was at a crossroads.

I could learn from this experience about pushing my body and be proud of accomplishing the goal in anyway I could

or

I could let the ego take control and be upset that things didn’t go according to my plan.

I’m not gonna lie, I did let that ego run wild the first few moments after my race.

My partner was so happy for me and all I kept saying was, “I suck as a runner” and “I am disappointed with myself”.

Once I got in the car, ate a good meal and drank water I was able to reset my thoughts and move forward from the shame I was feeling after this race.

I thanked those negative feelings because they came to the surface, in a very unfiltered way, to let me know that I needed to give myself more time.

Sometimes the plan you have needs to be altered along the way to meet yourself where you.

Once I acknowledged what went “wrong” and how I could do better the next time I was ready to move forward.

I celebrated COMPLETING A HALF MARATHON.

Next time (because there will always be another race I am running) I will grant myself permission to change my mind and be flexible in my plans.

Things change, life is not predictable, flexibility CAN be my greatest friend.

Any of you experienced a similar revelation in other life events?

How do you grant yourself permission to change your mind?

I would love to hear your thoughts in the comments below.

As always, Peace and Blessings.

xoxo – Stephy

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