Healing Out Loud

On 12/16/2018 at 11:27pm I delivered my daughter 5 ½ weeks early. Raegan was born weighing an even 6lbs, healthy and strong. My miracle was here taking her first breath, crying her first cry, looking me in the eyes. Life as hard as it had been the previous months was proving it could also be generous. That last part; life is generous is a statement I heard before but hadn’t come to the realization of what it could mean.

It’s still hard to process the last year of my life. This time last year began my journey of what would become by far my most difficult to overcome. If you were a Bubbling Brooke reader you know I had to overcome some heartbreak and disappointment that took me to some places. Both high and low. My last post  Finding My Heartbeat After A Breakdown was 8 months ago! It was what I thought to be my victory lap. In some ways it was. I had fought to get back to a place of peace with all I had endured. Feelings of resentment, disappointment and even some guilt had been consuming me to the point that I couldn’t even recognize myself. But what I thought was a war won was only a battle. A necessary battle, nevertheless. It would prepare me for what I would face next.

There are some dreams and fears you truly can’t fathom until they become reality. There are some joys and pains that must be experienced before they can be understood.

Not long after my victory I found out I was expecting my first child and that my father was diagnosed with stage four cancer. Life was once again proving to be hard and generous at the same time. The next few months would require of me something I didn’t know I had. I would have my greatest joy and deepest fear run parallel through my heart and I would have to survive what I couldn’t fully understand. There is no comfort when you are living in constant fear of losing someone you never thought you would so soon. There is nothing joyous about a reality when it involves a nightmare. Yet, I had moments where I could embrace my pregnancy but the cloud hovering over my head was constant. Even with the idea of me becoming a mother now being a reality I struggled with it. Even though it was my dream. Along with the normal anxieties every expecting mother may experience to some degree, I was losing my parent. Overwhelmed is an understatement.  I was watching him daily battle something that was getting progressively worse. While my baby was developing my heart was breaking. Feelings of guilt buried me often because her miracle wasn’t enough to silence my fears. I know now that it was her life that ultimately gave me the strength to get up each day and face that fear. It was her that enabled me to cherish what would only be two short months that we had with our dad. My sister and I both endured and overcame what should have killed us. And if we can do that, we can survive anything.

What I learned about healing this past year is that it is not done in secret. It is not subtle no matter how hard you try. It will show. Sometimes it is ugly and hard full of tears and breakdowns. Other times it looks like a good selfcare Sunday consisting of a bubble bath and a good book to read. Either way it should be embraced.  From the moment I acknowledged the heartbreak I experienced to facing the fear of losing my parent and the anxiety associated with expecting my first child, I chose to heal out loud. It did not always feel as though I was healing, it often felt like more pain was being endured. My personal life suffered, blogging no longer was something I could focus on. I couldn’t be transparent about something so difficult. I could not share something so private at the time.  There were days I could barely function at work and days I was like a robot without feelings when it came to my relationships. The phases I went through all were crucial to me being able to share these words.

There was nothing subtle about this journey. Family and friends, co-workers and even strangers all experienced it with me. I couldn’t silence it even if I wanted to. I wouldn’t have made it through if I had tried. The support I received was just as important to me as the courage it took to keep living when there was a part of me dying. As difficult as healing may be there is always something to look to. Hope. Hope is a sure thing and for me that was my faith knowing that God is able to heal and Raegan. I had to be reassured that apart from mercy there is no grace.

February 16 my daughter will be 2 months old. On the same date last year, I journaled these words

I caught a certain wave
I rode it with confidence
It has buried me
I have fought my way to the top gasping for air
I have roared with victory
I have been silenced by overwhelming sorrow
Still I do not know which was more felt
Could it be that I have been engulfed in my intent to endure?
Now all my emotions are rolled up into one
Moment by moment and no one is more apparent than the next
I have confessed from my soul
I have prayed in the spirit
I have asked for forgiveness out of my brokenness
I have given praise from the tops of my lungs
Hallelujah and Lord have mercy have both been my song

Since then my sister and I have buried our father and we’ve both given birth to real-life miracles.

I’ve been healing out loud through this platform, my journal and every tear I have cried both in secret and on the willing shoulders of others.

As I continue to do so I am most grateful for the realization of knowing that even when life is hard it is also generous.

I’ve missed this. It feels good to be back!!

Xoxo
B

35th Birthday Edition: The Difference|Brokenness vs Bitterness

I always celebrate my birthday in one way or another but a whole birthday party is usually not the move.

The last birthday party I had was when I turned twenty-five. Can we say LIT!!!! So I guess it’s safe to say that every ten years I throw myself a real live party! Thirty-five has come and gone but let me say that my last minute party was right on time. True it was a distraction from life and its troubles but isn’t that what most celebrations are in some form or fashion. I welcomed the distraction. But now that the dust has settled and I am back to living my real life apart from the dancing for three hours straight in Giuseppe heels and fitted sequenced dress I have to deal with my emotions and what not. Story of my life, huh?! You will not master something by neglecting it though.

I am thirty five years old and every time I say it out loud it goes one or two ways; I rejoice in that I have made it this far (Lord knows I could’ve been somewhere altogether different) or I start focusing on my disappointments and pains, naturally so.

Most of the time my heart is on my sleeve either beating strong or bleeding but sometimes I put a little wall around it. Wall or no wall it still feels so deeply every single thing. Always have and I gather it always will. Since this is my state I’ve had to learn to be intentional about how I respond to certain situations. Physical muscles won’t form themselves and neither will spiritual and emotional muscles. As fragile as the heart is and mine especially, I still would rather have a broken heart over a bitter one any day. To most that doesn’t sound like much of a choice but trust me there is a difference. My initials may be BB but I don’t want them to stand for “Bitter Brooke”! Been there, not going back.

The heart that is broken has the promise of healing to see it through the process of each broken piece coming back together to form an even stronger heart than before. It will beat again.

The bitter heart has yet to realize its need to be broken and healed. It forsakes the power of rejuvenation and its own ability to overcome all that is trying to destroy it from within.

What separates the broken and the bitter heart from one another is forgiveness and forgiveness alone. Although the journey to get there is uncomfortable and must be taken again and again it’s necessary. At first glance the broken heart and bitter heart appear to be identical because the pain feels the same. Be that as it may, healing will only come after forgiveness and what is not broken has no realization of its true state of infirmity.

Love comes slowly, then we fall so hard and yet when tried it goes so fast. Why? Because we are not willing to allow our brokenness to show us ourselves. Yes, even when someone has hurt you, there is something to see in yourself if you are to grow from the situation. Mary J Blige said it best in one of her songs

“You gotta love like you’ve never been hurt to find the love that you deserve. Be indestructible”

Unfortunately, we’d rather hold onto the pain slowly suffocating the life out of us and then wonder how we’ve become so cold.

I refuse.

Instead I choose to prosper through my pain and live! That’s my gift to myself every year. A promise to continue to embrace my brokenness regardless how it came about. Whether it came as a result of my self-inflicted pain or someone else’s treatment of me. The power is still in my response. I cannot afford to relinquish it to circumstances. I like expensive things but not if it costs me my joy.

There is no merit for me in choosing this path for my life, I am not super woman, and I am not striving to be perfect. I do realize the mercies of God enables the steps I take over each stepping stone of insecurity, anger, disappointment, rejection and all other less attractive experiences I’ve had in these thirty-five years. I am fragile and after the celebratory highs fade and that old bitterness tries to take root in the foundation of my heart, I am getting better with recognizing it and taking action. Better with age or nah?!!

Let me be clear, I am not bitter heart proof, none of us are but what I know for sure at thirty-five that maybe I wasn’t totally convinced of at twenty-five, is that hope is a sure thing and as the broken heart relies on the promise of healing, it in return willingly forgives.

Be Blessed

B

BTween Us: Woman to Woman Conflict and Why We Need It

 

Yesterday in a text to one of my good friends I told her that the title for a blog post “Woman to Woman” kept popping up in my head. I followed that with “But I don’t want to write it.” What I have learned is that is usually the very thing I should write. I should be sharing what’s on my heart, in my head and what’s making me uneasy in my gut. So I will do my best at condensing what will be expounded on at a later date because I have many thoughts on this.

Honestly, the concept of writing an open letter to women in general has always been an idea that lead to  me starting this blog. I want to be the conversation starter. I am not driven by the “How to” aspect of blogging necessarily. I’m more geared toward now that you’ve read this, you tell me how you feel. Is your perspective clear? Did this make you ask yourself the hard questions AND drive you towards answering them with transparency no matter how uncomfortable it may be?

That’s my goal.

What woman to woman means to me is, I am going to speak to you from my point of view and I want you to speak to me from yours. The goal is to have this conversation that will enlighten and enable us to better understand and if we cannot understand the actions behind the other person’s why, the gem is still found in being willing to listen. I may not agree with another woman’s perspective but I realize her convictions, her confidence level, her vulnerabilities and her history have all shaped that for her. We have to stop placing our perspective onto others as though our paths have all been the same. And even if it were so, we have different hearts that produce different results.

I am not sure when I began to be intentional about taking this approach when faced with a conflict or misunderstanding between me and another woman regardless of the role she plays in my life. I am sure being raised in a female dominated family and household consisting of my mother and my two sisters had a lot to do with it. I was not always the most understanding. In fact I was not giving a damn about anyone else’s feelings other than my own for the majority of my life. I was an angry little woman. Deep down inside there was this force of compassion I was burying because I was hurt. I kept my guard up on the outside but would be torn up on the inside.  I am forever grateful for the seed having been watered by maybe my own tears of guilt, shame and regret . Nevertheless it has bloomed into something beautiful in my spirit. I do not take it for granted.

Most women are hurt.

That hurt will drive us to exercise compassion and understanding, not to be confused with passivity.  Or it will drive us to develop these attitudes of entitlement and bully tendencies. These are then directed towards not only other women but unfortunately, the men in our lives and in some very bad cases even our children. Hurt people hurt people and a woman scorned is a high hurdle to get over. Nothing is impossible but it doesn’t come without a cost. When we are hurt and refuse to see ourselves past that blurred vision of “woe is me” any and everyone can feel the wrath. Therefore, if you are going to overcome the obstacles you’ll have to set aside some pride.

There is this movement amongst women today that when genuine is really a sight to see. Women lifting each other up, supporting one another in business and all kinds of endeavors. A whole sister circle. However, like most things, this is most often when everyone is on the same accord. Not so much when the women do not look like you, or dress like you, or have the same goals as you. You definitely are not seeing it when another woman has hurt you and if you ask me this is when it  is to be exercised the most.

As lovely as the idea may be, I am not a fan of this utopia that is being portrayed because it is not realistic. We are not all going to get along. The better news is that, in order to prosper and function with good mental health we do not have to. There is no future in your fronting ok! We are going to be faced with situations that will try us in the worst way and that is when you get to see the kind of woman someone is. More importantly, you see the kind of woman you are. At the end of the day your feelings won’t always be taken into consideration but that does not mean you have to bury them.  How will you respond to that friend that betrayed you, that name calling, that petty woman in your world who is hell bent on making your life miserable?

I’m certain most of us have had an encounter that has brought out of us some ugliness and at the same time it may have been justifiable considering the circumstances. Fast forward to today we might handle it differently. Maybe. What I will say is that as you grow these are the scenarios that help you help someone else inadvertently. In my 20’s I responded totally different than I would now. Trust me I know. SMH! This came with me first and foremost realizing I have all the power to win! Not because I am in competition with someone else, or to say I got the last word with a good read but to win the battle of self-control.

Woman to woman is a two way street. Play your part. Being willing to listen to the other woman without being defensive will resolve a lot of conflict. It’s not easy to listen to that friend who started acting funny, or your co-worker who just doesn’t like you. It’s not easy to listen to a family member who only points out your faults and never acknowledges your accomplishments. Let us not forget that other woman who came to you as a woman. Chile, who wants to listen to her?? Whatever the case, whoever the woman is she needs you to listen. It may take a while. It may be that you actually never get to have that conversation. We can learn a lot about a person in more ways than just listening to the words spoken directly to us. Actions speak just as loud. Pay attention. We all in one way or another will expose our hurt to each other and if you stop and listen you’re going to realize that most of the time it really has nothing to do with you directly. You are not the root of the problem but there may very well be something in you that triggers this person. You can become the vessel to help another woman heal if you truly desire to and it starts with you.

At the end of the day the most important woman to woman you will have is with the one in the mirror.

I am who I am because I have a desire to be this way. As the saying goes “Cause no harm but take no sh!t”. I have cultivated this heart to be able to walk this earth as best I can and to not intentionally hurt another woman. I’ve done enough of that in my life time. Just as I’ve endured enough. It’s called balance I guess. When I do fall short I am quicker to recognize my wrong and decide how to move forward than I was in the past. Yes, I’ve given apologies that may have been too late. It gets easier once you realize you are not responsible for the acceptance of the apology. I’ve dealt with women who have tried to hurt me with their words and actions. I’ve had to exercise some extreme self-control when my marital status and motherhood status has been used as ammunition to cause me pain. Truth is it did just that. I never understood why any woman who has received these blessings would use it to hurt another woman who has not.  Am I striving to be friends with a women who attacks me below the belt or period.  Absolutely not!!  But what I have gotten much better at is going high. You have to get to the point to where you are too good for certain things.

Your possessions, your accolades, beauty and whatever else wood, stubble and hay you rely on that won’t stand the test of fire do not make you a good woman.  You need to go a little deeper than that.  Who is good anyways???  I just choose differently than some in this area but this doesn’t change the fact that I have many ways about me that I need to check daily.

Some simple but effective questions I ask myself when being tested are:

  1. Will you listen to this other woman who disagrees with your perspective?
  2. Will you help another woman become better by not engaging in the back and forth in order to prove a point?
  3. Are you willing to exercise compassion when the insecurities of another causes them to be nasty towards you?

It is not easy but if we are going to survive in this not so perfect world of women someone is going to have to go high without looking down on those who choose not to.  Someone is going to have to look past their own hurt and realize there is an opportunity to lead by example. Trust me there is nothing more frustrating to someone than when you do not take the hate bait.

Most women are hurt and choose to act out of that hurt; but life is just too precious, too fast and too uncertain to intentionally cause strife. The reality of there being conflict amongst women is not the problem. It is necessary for us to get to the bottom of some things. Embrace the opportunity with the right motive.

Is there a woman you need to listen to today? What is she telling you with her words or her actions? Is that woman you?

Be blessed.
B

Dream Girl: Be Brave and Finish Strong

Bubbling Brooke is almost 1!! Last weekend I spent about two hours reading all my posts and just reveling in the fact that in this short time I have experienced so many incredible moments. I am thankful for the highs and the lows.  I sat on my couch reading and cheering myself on as if it were my very first time seeing those words! It is such an amazing feeling knowing that I have been able to accomplish something so meaningful. It is safe to say I’ve been living. There’s no better testament to that than the daily battles we endure. What started as me simply wanting to engage in something that would be therapeutic for me, has turned into so much more than I could’ve ever imagined. I’ve always prayed to be strong and very courageous in my life. but fell short on may occasions. I want to fully trust God with my insecurities and fears. I want to write transparently and fearlessly. My one goal for 2017 was to be BRAVE! Brave enough to not fear being misunderstood. That was one of my biggest fears prior to sharing my words and ultimately my perspective. Truth is I have only scratched the surface. Each day I am faced with a decision to write or not to write. Most importantly I am faced with the decision to be authentically Brooke or to be molded by outside influences and discouraged by my own self-inflicted insecurities.

As young girls some of us dream of being a doctor, some dream of being a mother, and some even the President of the United States. I am no exception. I too am a Dream Girl. I used to want to be a teacher. I’ve always wanted to teach out of love but that soon faded when I realized it takes a compassionate yet emotionally strong person to teach adolescents. I’d be too invested emotionally with what a teacher experiences on a day to day basis. When I got the desire to write a book years ago I knew what I wanted to say but I didn’t know how or to whom I would share it with. My target audience was not something I even knew I needed. What I did know and what I’ve had to reaffirm in myself more frequently than I like to admit, is that I do have enough valuable words to accomplish the goal. The good news is I realize that my value is determined by me and no one else.  Designer labels do not ask the consumer what they should charge for their products so why should I wait for someone else to tell me if what I have to write is valuable or not? There’s an audience for everyone.

Throughout this journey I started realizing that with each post I was sharing contents of my “Dream Book”. Surprisingly this discouraged me from writing.  I refer to it as my “Dream Book” because that is exactly where I began pouring out the words to form the sentences which formed chapters. My daydreams consisted of chapter after chapter being written in my head. I’d fall asleep doing the same. What I failed to do was actually put them onto paper. As a result, the ideas would come and go but thankfully the desire remained. Blogging was me proving to myself that I could do it. I could actually turn my thoughts into something tangible. The feedback has been so humbling. It mostly has come from those who have known me for years and unfortunately have experienced me in the worst ways at times. To read and hear their words of encouragement and appreciation for me being myself is priceless. You cannot take for granted the willingness of those who choose to see you as a light and to embrace you as such. There is so much negativity being put out into the atmosphere and being received in people’s hearts nowadays. It’s a cold world we live in and amongst women it can be the coldest.

There are women who want to help in one way or another. It’s human nature for us to want to be used for some greater good. My Instagram feed is filled with women who have taken a leap of faith and are now being used in the most amazing ways. Sisters are being encouraged and finding themselves accomplishing their goals left and right. You go girl!! I definitely benefit from those women being willing to share their experience and expertise. On the other hand it can also leave you feeling as if there isn’t any room for you to add value. This is kind of where I still struggle with the idea of becoming an author.

In one my very first posts You Are What You Speak  I introduced #PSA (Pretty. Smart. Affirmed). It is one of those ideas that have remained throughout this journey.  It is what I feel is the best way to categorize what I want to write about: outer beauty, intellect and our significance/value. These are the areas we all are plagued with insecurity at some point in our lives. Either you’re too pretty or not pretty enough; too smart or not smart enough and lastly you’re either overcompensating for past guilt and shame or unable to see the ugliness of your ways. We are a beautiful complex work of art!

For the past three months I was faced with some tough decisions regarding making my “Dream Book” a reality. I want to write so badly but I kept finding myself in this place of uncertainty. Truthfully, I have been so uncomfortable. A constant wrestling of spirit because of me wavering from my passion and purpose now that they’ve aligned. Many of us find our purpose in our passions. They are not same thing however. One is something you do the other is someone you are. If you’re going to walk in your purpose you have to be a little selfish. You must feed the passion to fuel the purpose. I was beginning to revert back to feeling obligated to everyone else first and me second, including my corporate job. I was being drained and had no desire to write (passion). If I didn’t write there would be no “Dream Book” to encourage women to look within themselves and realize they can be brave (purpose).

Anxiety is real no matter how much our community wants to deny it but for me so is Jesus. And even still, I must do the work and keep pressing on. Regardless of who/what you believe in, we can all agree that it is a universal fact, focusing on your circumstances and trials won’t benefit you in accomplishing your goals. I choose to believe the promise! The promise is not that there will not be trials or days when I am afraid. There are going to be days when I am going full speed ahead crushing my goals. The other days consist of me running on empty and everyone is getting on my nerves. However, if I keep in mind that my writing is not for me to get the praise but it is first and foremost for God to get all the glory, I can keep a healthy perspective. There is no true purpose apart from this truth. I was hesitant to share that early on in my blogging journey. Why? I was choosing to believe the lie that said I had nothing to share that was worth God’s glory. How wrong was I?!! How could I not when the desire was never mine to begin with. The seed was planted in my heart and has been watered with each step made along my journey. Every ounce of grace and mercy I’ve been the recipient of has nourished this dream of mine up until this very moment.

As I approach this milestone year I can say that I am not just a girl with a dream to become a published author but I am brave enough to pursue it and see it through to fruition. The desire won’t fade when it is driven by faith. What I’ve come to realize is where you find perfection is in completion. Even if I stumble across the finish line, I still finished strong!

Be BRAVE!!!!!!!

B

How I Came Out of My Valley

Some experiences, moments and seasons of life aren’t meant to be shared with others in depth. There are those that are simply necessary to be felt, to be endured, and to be overcome by you. Not everything can be explained.

I wanted to adequately describe my latest “Valley Experience”. I wanted to provide the next woman who finds herself in the valley with ways to help deal with how she felt. I wanted to be able to equip her with instructions on how to come out better than when she went in. I wanted to provide ways to help her pass the time. But what I realize is that the feelings must be addressed per personal experience and cannot be ignored and time cannot just be passed. She must endure for however long just as I did. That is not something you can teach. That is something we have to choose.

In the valley is where you grow but that growth isn’t always apparent immediately. I’m still not sure I fully understand how I’ve grown from my experience yet. What I am able to share is that I felt three very real emotions during these past few months in ways I hadn’t in quite some time, if ever.

First I felt low.

As a woman I’ve felt low before so it’s not a new feeling. Only this time it wasn’t due to heartbreak or some disrespectful comment made about my appearance or a condescending remark regarding my capabilities and achievements or lack thereof. I felt low as in helpless. I was far away from any hope of overcoming my insecurities. Weak in spirit is what I was. That pretty much sums it up.  I was trying to rely on my insufficient ability to lift myself up by means of coercion and tension.  There was no progress being made. If anything I felt lower and lower until I realized that I had to embrace those insecure moments if I were to ever rise above them. This is no quick fix. It calls for intentional efforts continuously.

What I felt the more frequently was lost.

Constantly, asking myself, how did I get here? There wasn’t any one incident in particular I could recall that brought me to this place. But I was there and I had no clear direction on how to get out. So I stopped trying. It’s as if I set up tent and accepted that this was my home for a while. Though not a physical place literally, mentally I was in the valley and my mind needed resting. My heart needed settling. I didn’t panic no matter how hard it got and there were times when I thought I wouldn’t make it. I was able to find comfort in knowing that this experience was a part of my journey. I was reminded that what the Lord commands he enables. This may have single handily kept me in an operable mental space. Sounds dramatic huh? Well valley experiences can be just that surreal. Your mental health requires examinations just as much as your physical health does. As women of color I hope we begin to realize the importance of this.

Lastly, I felt unloved.

This was hard to realize. Once I did what I had to accept was that this feeling of being unloved was a lie that I told myself way too often. If we tell ourselves anything long enough we’ll believe it without a doubt soon enough. But who didn’t love me, and why not? Jesus loves me. My family loves me. I have dear friends that love me. The truth was I just didn’t like me. Like and love are not the same but because I was unaware of how much I didn’t like who I was, it felt as if I was not loved at all. I didn’t like how I was allowing myself to be taken advantage of and almost bullied in some situations, simply because I didn’t want to be misunderstood. I didn’t like how I was shrinking when I should’ve stood tall. I didn’t like how those who so called knew me best were treating me as if they didn’t and I said nothing. The truth is that people prefer to use your less than appealing moments to infer that they know you so well.  I didn’t like how I was just being a wimp in life because that I am not. I resented myself for all those reasons.

I came out of this experience what seems like suddenly but it was anything but. I cried every single day for a few months. I do cry easily but these were tears of desperation. I just wanted it to be over. I wanted the pressure to be lifted and the anxiety to go away! Instead I remained  present. There were days when nothing made sense. Those around me were being used in ways they clearly were unaware of but nevertheless they triggered things in me I still cannot explain. God knows.

What I often see is so many women looking for guidance on how to live their individual lives. As if a generic step-by-step guide is enough. No one wants to feel, endure and overcome these uncomfortable, inexplicable experiences regardless of how unavoidable they are.

But I’m here to reassure you that the time you spend present in the valley will reveal to you things about yourself that no mountaintop can.

B