Reality Cheque 2! (Part 2…ish)

I know for some this has been a short week, but for many of us we don’t get to laze on a bank holiday and remain committed to our jobs. I’m not complaining as it’s my choice and I love what I do, but I admit this week in particular has felt long and I’m utterly cream crackered.

On account of the encounters I’ve had I was initially going to call this blog ‘Don’t Be A Dick’ and leave it at that. No further words just the title, because people can be real dicks, and I really don’t have the energy. But I decided to explain a little and repost the blog below I wrote in 2019 as it explains what I mean, and as with most messages in my blogs the sentiments remain the same and will continue.

We all have off days, but if you’re in a job or environment where you have to deal with other people on those particular days you should fix your face, put on your professional hat and do the job you’re paid to do. If you can’t manage to maintain your composure take a break or furthermore, if you can afford to, take a sick day and sort your energy out before you try to transfer it. 

If I’m paying for a service especially, I beg you please don’t come with attitude. If you hate your job change it. The menace-no-pause is still working her magic and on top of that sleep is sporadic, sweaty and shit. Yet despite this I manage not to take my irritability out on others – and I’m working with someone who has dementia which can be a rollercoaster ride on any given day! 

I always attempt to be respectful and considerate of the fact that I don’t know what kind of a day they’re having, and that goes for everyone in general. More folk need to work on this!

Now You See Me (Part 7)

Before I get into the nitty gritty of what has been happening in my life over the last few years, let me address something else.

I’ve touched upon humanity previously, and you’d have to be blind not to notice that there is something seriously lacking with a lot of people around the world – way too many. I could run down a whole list but I actually don’t have the energy for it, I’m sure you’ve come across enough yourself to get the gist.

One thing that goes hand in hand with humanity is care. We all need it or have needed it. At the very least someone got you from a dependent baby to fending for yourself, no matter what age the care stopped. Be it a parent, family member, foster carer or wolves (I’m beginning to think it’s a possibility), someone raised you.

I believe without doubt that both nature and nurture have an impact on the person you are, but as an adult there are some choices you have to make regardless of what you’ve gone through, like how do I pay my bills? How can I make my moolah?

If you’re lucky enough to have a job you love, way to go! Right now I’m in the process of trying to do so…kinda. To be honest I need a little breathing space first, but naturally I’m thinking about which way to go next.

I’m creating my NuDawn Bible and it has its dating system. BC – Before Cancer, and AD – After Damage.

The BC me was a full time working mum, fit and so I thought, relatively healthy. I loved to shake a leg and could be on my feet all night with hardly any griping. I loved MONDAY’S (Tanya Brooks-Carty’s workout regime), and I could wear heels and run around to my hearts content should I feel the need. My mum had had a heart attack some years before and since then I’d taken care of her and her needs too. Life could always be better, but overall I was good.

The AD me had to face the fact that times had changed. Naturally I’d prefer it if my feet didn’t hurt all the time and I didn’t need to use a stick to help me, but at least I still have the ability to walk. I’ll take that and own it! “I’m an African warrior, rolling with my stick in my hand!” The alternative would be me bussin’ my ass on the floor when I lose balance so I’d rather not if you please.

AD me means that the running and jumping around I used to do without thinking twice is no longer a joy and in fact a pain in the ass, but I’ve learnt and I’m still learning how to deal with it. I’ve said it before but you really don’t realise how often you’re on your feet until it’s sending you constant reminders with and without every step.

But I suck it up because it is what it is and where would bitching get me?, which in turn causes certain people to watch you with side eye and wonder if it’s really as bad as it seems. ‘People’ will always be questioning, but that’s not for me to worry about. I have jack shit to prove to anyone. #WhoFeelsItKnowsIt

So I now find myself wondering what sort of job the ‘nu’ me should do considering my limitations. I swore to myself when I went back to work it would be doing something I enjoyed, and to not dread waking each morning already counting the hours until I was back at home. Unfortunately that’s easier said than done, especially when bills have to be paid!

I know a few people, but not enough, who actually love their job. I can’t say the same for any job I’ve had to date, not wholeheartedly anyway, apart from my “job” as a mother and my last one – which I wouldn’t necessarily call a ‘job’ as such. That’s not to say it was an easy experience, as anyone who has worked as a carer can testify to, but the person in question was my mum, so it was undoubtedly a bit easier for me as there was that love and personal attachment.

I’ve been told by several people that I should consider becoming a carer as I am so good with taking care of my mum. I get where they’re coming from. I’ve made a few friends at the home my mum is now staying in. It wasn’t hard to be fair. I’m there near enough every day and I’m quite comfortable chatting to the Golden Oldies, which is all they want really. In turn I’ve met some right characters! I swear they give me the most jokes.

That’s the easy upside, but then you’ve got the other side too. Literally the shitty side. I don’t have an issue dealing with my mums personal care and toilet issues because she’s my mum, but I’m honest enough with myself to be unsure about if I’d be able to handle anybody else’s. I think it’s essential to give a job like that serious thought.

I’ll never forget my time spent in hospital when I was ill, but one (of many!) incident in particular really got to me and is a good example of what I mean. My haters and those of you who think a lot of shit comes out of my mouth will appreciate this!

Two days after my op I was still as rough as arseholes. I was attached to a monitor and drip whilst being weaned off of morphine. I was still nil by mouth and in pain after having a third of my bowel removed and my stomach held closed with staples. I recall feeling really nauseous, then before I knew it I was throwing up. It didn’t take long for me to notice there was something not right with this picture.

Due to the op, my waste product had only one way of vacating my body. I was literally throwing shit up. You can only imagine my distress! The situation and pain was already bad enough and this was the cherry on the cake…or so I thought then. With every heave my stomach was on fire and as it took me by surprise there was no vessel for me to throw up in. I couldn’t stop, and in no time at all I was covered in putrid puke. #TheStruggleWasReal

The curtain was around my bed so I couldn’t be seen by anyone and could not call out. I managed to grab the call button to try and get someone to help me. It seemed like an age had gone by but in reality I’m sure it was only a minute or so that had passed before Nurse Fucking Ratched pulled back the curtain. She stood there, exhaled deeply and rolled her eyes with a look of disgust and disdain that I’ll never forget.

By this point the heaving had receded and she came over and told me to take my gown off. Because of the way I had been hooked up to the machinery it was a task I couldn’t do by myself which I pointed out, so she huffed and donned on gloves to scornfully help me out of my filthy gown and bed and onto a chair. She then disappeared and returned with a bowl of water and fresh gown and told me to clean myself off whilst she stripped the bed.

She was the most stone cold, heartless bitch I’d ever come across. Not once did she give an ounce of sympathy and had zero fucks to give about how I felt. All she knew was that she had to deal with clearing shit up.

Now up until this point I was on full on Warrior Woman mode. I had fought to get to a point where I was taken seriously, and I knew I had some hard work ahead to do, but I was due the results of my biopsy that day and had already known it was more than likely cancer. I was just happy to know that at last I had some kind of answer after months of fuckery and pain.

Then along comes nursey with her own special kinda medicine – a truth serum of sorts, and throws my issues clean in my face, quietly but oh-so-loudly pointing out that I am, in fact, no warrior. I can’t even manage to take off my gown, I’m weak, pissing in a bag and throwing up shit.

I admit to feeling a tad sorry for myself. I had a huge lump in my throat and could feel the tears coming but still managed to hold it down.

I climbed back into bed and she hooked me back up and left. A couple of minutes later the surgeon, his companions and Nurse Ratched came over to discuss what was happening. Apparently it wasn’t an uncommon occurrence under these circumstances and they would be putting a tube in to help clear out my stomach as it was more than likely that I would start throwing up again soon. All I heard was tube and stomach!

I’m one of those people who have a bad gag reflex. I can do my thang, but I ain’t no Dawnie Deepthroat! (sorry to burst your bubble!). Seriously though, it’s on if the toothbrush goes too far back let alone owt else!, so hearing talk about them feeding a tube through my nostril down the back of my throat and into my stomach filled me with complete and utter dread – then I clocked Ratched and had a vision of her doing the job and the dam burst.

Thankfully she was called away but by this time I was a hot mess. They said they would give me some time to calm down but we’d have to get it done soon. A little while later another nurse came along for attempts one and two. It was horrendous. I’ll allow you the finer details but it involved a whole load of retching, snot and tears. Then along came my angel in disguise.

For the life of me I can’t remember his name, but he was from the Philippines and one of the most caring souls you could ever hope to meet. He was the one who was with me when the surgeons told me what they’d discovered when I came round from my op, and he was amazed at how well I had received the news. I think he now recognised a woman at breaking point!

He knew it would be a 2 man task and enlisted the help of his colleague, who he assured me was a pro at doing this procedure, and it would be over in no time if I listened to what they asked me to do. He said he’d be right next to me holding my hand and giving me sips of water to help with the job.

They worked as a double act, cracking jokes to calm me down and then talked and walked me through it; me swallowing the sips of water to help ease the tube down with each gulp once it had reached the back of my throat, and then it was over, with only one heave in between.

They praised me on a job well done, which sounds really stupid, but they realised what a scary time it was for me and did their utmost to make sure I was comfortable.

I only wish others would take the time out and consider if the job they are doing is the right one for them. Despite me not finding my dream job yet, I made sure that the jobs that I did do were done to the best of my ability.

When you decide to do a job that involves taking care of a person it usually means that they are vulnerable and not in a position to help themselves, so you should at the very least try to be empathetic to whatever their plight may be especially as it’s something you chose to do.

I’ve experienced the good and bad side of the caring coin. I know the job is hard and a mostly unrewarding one, but you should really have some level of compassion and caring when you’re dealing with people at their weakest or lowest in particular. I said in particular because really it’s something that we should all have a touch of regardless.

I know that since my trip around the Topics of Cancer I have a lot more empathy for others plights. I can relate on a level that I truly understand folk can go through shit you can’t even relate to, but we can all relate to being treated respectfully.

R.I.P Josie Heywood. Your family did you proud and my heart continues to go out to you all.

Happy 50th Earthday/Birthday Lydia Shekiluwa. Looking nowhere near that figure! I pray you had a blessed day and many more to come Queen!

Handle With Care, Stay Blessed & #CelebrateLife

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Reality Check Me! (Part 2)

“Sittin’ in your church on Sunday
Thinkin’ who you gonna screw Monday
Who you gonna teef? Who you gonna rob?
Tek it as me tell you say, you can’t fool God, No!”

By His Deeds ~ VC

On Tuesday I attended the funeral of a lovely friend who passed away suddenly. I’ve known her and her family for as long as I can remember as we grew up on the same road, and her celebration of life turned out to be a reunion of old faces and a refreshing of memories long forgotten.

Enquires were made on how my family were, with some unaware of mums passing and the family drama that had been before and after that time. I filled them in but didn’t delve too deep. A few I directed to my website so they could catch up in their own time. Some were surprised, some not so much! You can fool some of the people some of the time…

Which brings me to why I’m writing this blog today. In part 1, I told you I was still doing the work. Growth is an ongoing process and peace takes preservation. I’m happy to say that I’ve still managed to conserve my peace, but had no real test on my growth until recently.

There are 3 main perpetrators who caused me the most upset over the years. Two are my siblings, who I have spoken about in Tales Of The Dales, but the third is my brothers partner. You’ll find out more about her involvement in the wrap up blogs, but for now I’m going to focus on something that she’s said before and still continues to say.

I know she continues to say this because my first test since leaving the retreat was being in her company. I fully admit that on previous occasions I had declined invites from my nephew because I knew that she would be there. It wasn’t that I was scared of her, far FAR from it! Actually correction; I was scared, but it was along the lines of I was scared I may cause him embarrassment or cause us to fall out when I run my mouth or try to clap her in hers; hear me when I say the urge was strong! – so I thought it best I steer clear.

When my great nieces Earthday rolled around a few weeks ago I accepted the invite without the usual apprehension, and I can report back that all was good in the hood! I even managed to sit at the same table. Ok, there was no chit chat to be had but still, come – look at growth!✌🏾😂

My second test came at my friends funeral as I knew my brother would be in attendance. Not gonna lie, I did eye roll when I saw him and possibly muttered a lil’ somethin’ somethin’ (👀), BUT I was calm and unfazed throughout the whole day, and for the first time felt another genuine emotion relating to him – humour. I seriously had to laugh, unfortunately you’ll have to wait to hear the joke.

But please don’t get shit twisted. To me, that’s as far as breaking bread will get – which brings me to the phrase his partner likes to use. She’s a life’s too short and we should just “sweep it all under the carpet and move on” type of chick.

Maybe it’s just me or coincidence, but isn’t it funny how the main perpetrators and instigators of all the fuckery are usually the first to want to sweep sh(it) all under the carpet and move on when they believe the time is right. 

The thing is when you sweep it all under the carpet it might be out of sight, but you leave obstacles for folk to trip and bus’ their ass on; and I’m unsteady enough on my feet at the best of times. I’d much prefer to rip that fucker up and put it on the pyre. Furthermore, let’s incinerate all bridges* whilst the fire’s blazing. #BunAndDun

Why would I cover it up and play the fool, like I wouldn’t be inviting them back to potentially do it all over again? In all of the years not once has there been any sign that they were sorry or felt remorse for their actions. I can’t and won’t pretend that it never happened and the years of heartache, pain, misery and lack of accountability mean nothing.

Nah, I’m good thankhs. And when I say it I mean it. I’ve learned the meaning of true forgiveness and it doesn’t involve me having to allow them one iota. It’s about forgiving myself for allowing them to get me to those dark stages and places. It’s been a slog and a half to get where I am now and I’m applauding myself for making it through in spite of them.

Their shit is theirs to own, no matter how big or small a part they played. By his deeds shall a man be known. I wrote a blog by the same title back in 2017 and invite you to have a refresh. Since then the venom has gone, and so has mum, but the memories are harder to shift – all of them.

I always knew what I was doing was right and can stand by every step made with my head held high, so there’s no need for me to cover anything up under carpets or grey clouds. NuDawn is rising and she’s shining bright. If it gets a little too hot for some or it exposes their dark spots, that’s honestly not my concern.

By His Deeds Shall A Man Be Known (Link)

Happy Heavenly Earthday/Birthday tomorrow Mumsy. Gone but most definitely not forgotten. Ever!

See you next lifetime Queen.🖤💚

R.I.P Tara Bailey. It was truly a beautiful send off. Your family did you proud. I’m pretty sure you were shining down with the sun and catching up on all of the gossip!😂

R.I.P Queen and legend Tina Turner and to all those who have lost their lives recently.

*To those who don’t know, Bridges was my maiden name, a name my brother carried until changing it by deed poll. Unfortunately for him it doesn’t matter what you call yourself or how you attempt to reinvent yourself if your centre’s still the same. #JustSayin

Dizzy Nu Heights, Blinded By The Lights💫, Stay Blessed & #CelebrateLife

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Reality Check 1! (Part 3)

And we’re back to go over the delights of ‘Wilting Wednesday’.

I thought Monday was bad enough. 

I’d dared to wear an over the head hoodie. Rookie mistake! Take a tip from me – light, easily accessible layers!! In this bi polar weather it’s not easy I know, but it’s even harder when your body is on the same levels.

I forgot myself, which isn’t hard when you throw brain fog in the mix. I’d had a reprieve via some gummies and things were looking up, but that’s just a distant memory now…or is it?…one forgets…

Anyway back to the hoodie. It was all good until I felt heat rising up from my feet. I asked the question in my social media post of did you know that your shins sweat? Well, did you!? It came up in conversation with a friend and we were wondering if this is a common side effect? I know it’s skin and naturally has this ability, but honest to goodness I never noticed before…then again I’ve never flowed so much before so I’m guessing I broke through the dam.

I tried to will it away but could feel a subtle sheen appear on my face – the prequel. As the heat rose through my body and reached my neck I pulled the collar forward and a feeling resembling opening an oven hit my face – cue the main event. I could feel the beads of sweat form then roll down my face, and with that started furiously fanning the collar to and fro in an attempt to cool down, but that only resulted in fanning the flames. 

I honestly felt like I was suffocating and drowning at the same time. I couldn’t even remember what I had on underneath but that shit was coming off no matter what delights it had been covering. I pulled it off and released the heat. I was braless but had a vest on. I’m not usually one to go braless as my nipples will grab any opportunity to say hi – not that there’s anything wrong in showing a nip or two, but I’ve personally seen how distracting they can be for some!🙄😂 

At particular times of the month even a breeze is enough to have them throbbing let alone material rubbing on them, no matter how soft. Just another joy for us to behold, so I’d opted for semi-comfort that day. With lesson learned from that event, I layered up and had a relatively ok Tuesday, with only a few flushes during the day; but bring forth the night – bring forth the fuckery!

I like to sleep naked wherever possible. This has its ups and downs.👀😂

One is easy access! I’m thankful (and so is the Mr!) that my libido hasn’t waned throughout – if anything it’s improved, and much to the em-ba-razz-ment and discomfort of our daughters, we still enjoy a healthy (albeit not as loud as I would like it to be but soon to be rectified) sex life.

As much as you’d like to keep it down it can get a little noisy, and I appreciate they don’t want to hear it, but as I told them, no stork bought yo’ ass here! The time to be concerned is when it’s not your dad I’m fucking. Until that day, turn the music up and find your happy place – I know I’m about to, and long (and ebony strong!😏) may it continue!

But saying that…

I’m pretty certain he would love it if it was an everyday occurrence, and as much as that is a nice thought it can stay as such. I don’t mean that disrespectfully, but sometimes it’s not even about me not wanting it, it’s about me not wanting to combust. It’s about please don’t touch me because I’m radiating enough heat already and that hand you just placed on me feels like I’m being branded.😩

I can’t complain as he is mostly understanding. Like I said, he’s living the dream with me so has it all in living colour, and I can appreciate it must be frustrating for him at the same time. As much as I’m lying there naked I’m not sure how much of a turn on it is looking a hot, sweaty mess before any action has taken place, lying on a towel whilst mopping with another one and fanning with the other hand. I’m grateful to have a husband who will actually listen and not simply dismiss it as “women’s issues.”

To be fair, it’d be hard for him to dismiss, unless he was a complete ignoramus, which thankhfully he isn’t. It’s hard to deny when you wake up and you’re facing your wife’s feet instead of her face because she’s doing that manoeuvre similar to when you chase the sunshine in your garden, and you move position to make the most of the heat; I’m doing the same in reverse, seeking out the cool spots on the bed. It’s a super king size so doable, but then you get the downside, once you’ve cooled down you’re literally left freezing your ass off until the next flush. 

Needless to say that it isn’t subject for sleep alone but throughout the day. Can folk please appreciate the effort it takes to go out-out too. The effort to look “hot” but not look hot and yet stay cool (as in temperature😂), is a real challenge. Most days I wish I could walk around naked with just a dressing gown and slippers so I can release the heat yet stay warm. Now I truly understand why women had fans and fainted so much back in the day. 

I love heat. I’m a self confessed sun child and will grab any opportunity to catch some rays and top up my melanin, and if/when it gets too much I know there are ways and means to control the levels I get. When I say Wednesday hit different that’s an understatement! This heat is internal and there ain’t no thermostatic control. It was a continuous flow of flush after flush and sweating from my roots to my toenails. I swear at one point I questioned if I was being possessed!🥵

The comparison is often made between women throughout history, and it’s thought that we’re now somehow a weaker generation because we acknowledge and speak on women’s health. Could it be that the reason they were so quiet previously was because they literally weren’t allowed to speak up or were not comfortable with speaking on it for fear of it being used as a weapon to beat them round the head with, and further fuel for the masculine fire of them being weak and unworthy? They were just supposed to be subservient little women, who looked pretty, cooked, cleaned and bred. 

The pathway has now been cleared for us to say yes, there are clear differences between the sexes, but we each have qualities to be celebrated and admired equally – it doesn’t have to be a battle. In general the majority of men have more physical strength, but for the majority of women we have an inbuilt strength that cannot be denied.

All of the men I have spoken to who have read part 1 have said the same thing, and that is they are glad they aren’t a woman. That’s all I need to hear, because it shows me that they know we have the most shit to handle and wouldn’t want it for themselves; yet the majority of us manage to handle it – sometimes barely! – but still we move, and that’s on top of all of the other labels attached to being a woman. What would be fantastic is if more males took the time out to acknowledge and appreciate it.

So to all of my Queens out there – big up ya hot, sweaty chests! We are fucking phenomenal! If every once in a while you have a meltdown whilst melting down, feel no way. Speaking for myself, if I were to have a negative reaction to all of the sheggery I go through I’d be a right miserable cow, so I always attempt to curb it somehow, but the reality is we all need to vent, and sometimes when you share the load it can be lightened.

Big love and huge thankhs to each and every Queen that supplied me with advice and tips!🙏🏾

I’m trying a few so will follow up in a few weeks and let you know how things go.

R.I.P to all those who have lost their lives this week.

Big Up Ya Chest!, Stay Blessed & #CelebrateLife

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Reality Check 1! (Part 2)

⚠️ Warning for all of the ‘delicate males’* out there.

This blog contains a lot of talk of punani but more than likely not quite how you’d like or possibly ever want to imagine it.

It gets pretty graphic.

You have been warned; although I’d urge you to read it if you have any females in your life, just to gather a little understanding to how our lives can be.⚠️

After my day on Wednesday I thought this would be the ideal time for a health update. 

At the end of part 1 I told you that I was awaiting a scan. Well I had that a few weeks later and it didn’t show up anything more than a couple more fibroids, but they were relatively small and no issue, so they sent me on my merry way with a few pamphlets on contraception (😑) and said to get in touch if my symptoms worsen…

Hmmm…

On October 11th 2021 I came on my period, bringing with it all it usually does. On October 29th it decided to stop. Yes, please do the math! 18 long ass days of bloody misery! I breathed a sigh of relief that it had finally stopped and carried on living and shit (I say and shit because that’s what it was at the time), but wondering wtf that was all about. I didn’t realise that was the teaser.

On November 1st it returned with full force. I tried to call the doctors and make an appointment but could never get through so left it and just dealt with it; until the early hours a couple of mornings later. I’d already been up twice that night to change my pad as I’d leaked through and was changing them every hour. After a particularly bad cramp I decided to head downstairs to the loo once more.

If you’re a heavy bleeder you’ll know that there’s a manoeuvre you do when attempting to presume an upright position from lying down. There’s no hop, skip and jumping going on. More a slow pivot until your legs are off the bed, then you slowly raise your torso as you try to evaluate the level of gushing you’ll have to contend with.

Then you slowly rise and there she flows! Only this time for me it was with abundance. As I stood up it felt like I was having a wee but I knew I wasn’t. Thankfully I had some old tracksuit bottoms on, and as I put my feet in my slippers I felt the warm blood flowing down my legs to greet them.

Our bathroom is situated downstairs, so I grabbed a hand towel, shoved it in my tracky bottoms and made my way precariously down the stairs and to the bathroom. I sat on the loo and you could literally hear the blood and clots pouring out of me and hitting the bowl. I pulled the towel from my bottoms that I’d discarded on the floor and tried to stem the flow.

I remember sitting there observing the carnage. Quentin Tarantino would have been proud of the scene. 

I knew I had to move and get myself sorted so I shuffled off the loo to the sink and grabbed my flannel and body wash and tried to clean myself up as best I could, then wrapped my bottom half in another towel and went back upstairs. I grabbed another towel as the one between my legs was saturated and found some other old bottoms to put on. 

I called 111 and explained what was going on and they told me they’d book me into A&E and to get down there straight away. I’d usually get the Mr to take me, but he was laid up with covid, so I grabbed my bag and another towel and pair of bottoms and headed downstairs back to the crime scene and took photographic evidence before cleaning up and knocking on my firstborns door to get her to take me to Wexham.

Yes I took photos. I learnt the hard way that some of these professionals like to think they know it all, yet a lot of their knowledge is based on old findings. Incorporate that with the fact I’m a Black woman I’m making sure no one can doubt what I say. I remember having a debate with a teacher once when she told me you only lose around 2 tablespoons of blood when you have your period. I knew for a fact that was bullshit at my young age but she sat there trying to force this fact down my throat. That’s why I made sure to teach my girls different, and not just about that but many other things. 

I’ve said it before and I’ll keep on saying it;

DON’T RELY ON THE SYSTEM TO EDUCATE YOUR KIDS ON EVERYTHING!!

That’s another topic we’ll be revisiting soon. It has its uses but too many are too eager to eat the lies we’re fed…but moving on!

Thankfully when I got to the hospital not only did I get taken through to triage relatively sharpish but a friend happened to be there and got me taken up to gynae quickly too. At this point I was changing pads every 20 minutes.😩 

I had a few hours wait as the gynaecologist was in surgery, but was finally seen by some young man who I’m sure could possibly have been young enough to be my son. He asked me a few questions about my period history and what had happened that day then asked me to pop myself on the table so that he could have a look and possibly get a biopsy.

I sorted myself out behind the curtain and lay down on the table. A nurse came in when I said I was ready and put my legs in stirrups, and I sat there legs akimbo feeling blood pooling underneath me waiting for sonny boy to do the do!

A few minutes later he arrived and positioned himself between my legs, grabbed a handful of paper towels and cleared the way before diving in. I lay there watching and feeling him attempt to reach my cervix and get a biopsy, but all he could get was clot after clot. And then, at last, he made it through and whispered those magical words – “I think you’d be a good candidate for a hysterectomy, or at least something more permanent.” 

Hallefuckinglujah!! 

No more pamphlets on contraception! It only took nearly bleeding out but hey, we got there in the end! He gave me a prescription for something to ease the flow and explained my options, saying that he’d recommend an endometrial ablation first and if that didn’t work a hysterectomy. He gave me some booklets on them and said that he’d be arranging to get me seen as soon as possible.

An endometrial ablation is a procedure to remove the lining of your womb in the hope that it lightens or completely stops your periods. On March 4th 2022 I had mine done. It was quick and painless and I’ve been period free ever since! Happy days!!…ish

I can’t describe to you the joy and freedom of not bleeding. You can wear what you want and don’t have to have a bagful of products at hand just in case Aunt Flo decides to pay a surprise visit. I’m still a piece para though so walk with a couple pads. I’ve been here before feeling ‘noice’ and then my body has humbled my claart!😂

I still get emotional and hormonal too but it’s not as severe as it used to be. Overall it’s been fantastic, but I can’t help feeling like I’m still the butt of Mother Nature’s joke! She said ok Dawn, you wanted shit to dry up – tek dat!, and promptly stopped the flow and took all moisture in that region with her to boot! She didn’t stop there though! She replaced the blood for sweat, and I’ve got the tears to complete the set!😩😂

And that brings us to what I’ve now renamed ‘Wilting Wednesday’. 

If you’ve seen my social media posts you would have bared witness to the effects of the joke that is the menopause, aka menace-no-pause. 

For those of you who haven’t seen it I’m leaving the link for you to have a peek before continuing on in part 3!

https://www.instagram.com/p/CsE4uIDL4eA/?igsh=dXdtZ2s0ZGk0Y3E2

R.I.P to all those who have lost their lives this week.

This week has been an emotional rollercoaster like you wouldn’t believe, but peace is still working her magic.🙏🏾

*I’d love to say that my husband doesn’t fit into that category but he’s a work in progress, after all he has little choice – he’s living the dream with me!😂

Reality Check…(Part 1)

Reality Check 1! (Part 3)

Reality Check 1! (Part 4)

Glow With The Flow! Stay Blessed & #CelebrateLife

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You’ll Never Walk Alone

“When you walk through a storm
Hold your head up high
And don’t be afraid of the dark…”

Gerry and The Pacemakers ~ You’ll Never Walk Alone

You’ll be pleased to know it’s no long ting today! I’ve still got writers cramp from last week!😅

I’ve been doing a lot of reflecting as those hits keep on coming, and I’m aware there’s a lot of people hurting in one way or another so I just wanted to show a little love and give a little advice.

Back in December 2019 I wrote a blog summing up what I then thought had been my ‘Detox Decade’.

I recalled all of BFD of the past and gave a sigh of relief that I’d made it through – a little battered and bruised but on the other side with 20/20 vision for 2020 and fresh hopes!

What I actually got was fresh hell!😩

I can only speak for myself and of my own experiences, but take it from someone who has been through many a trial and tribulation over many years as you will soon hear – there is light at the end of the tunnel! Granted some tunnels are longer and darker than we’d like or ever imagined, but you don’t have to walk them alone. 

I thought I only started stepping through mine in 2014 when I was diagnosed. In truth the lights had been dimming for time before then, but my eyes had adjusted to it. Thanhkfully pure light and guidance can be found in many forms. You got options people! Don’t ever doubt that there’s a way out.

I’m going to a 50th celebration of life at the weekend. I know way too many who haven’t reached this milestone and way too many who have passed recently for me not to be there and celebrate it with them. Time spent on your own is essential, but it’s equally important to have good energy around you.

I’m happy to say that I have new additions to the NLC – NuDawn Love Collective – the Kings and Queens who have played a part in making sure this NuDawn rises and shines. It also means that, unfortunately, I can’t be with my Tribe on Saturday as they aid and assist the newbies on their journeys. Sending big love, light and positive vibes your way. I’ll be with you in spirit, but know that you’ve got this! And regardless of whether you do or don’t – we’ve got you.💚

R.I.P to all those who have lost their lives this week.

Detox Decade! (Link)

Yes, the podcasts are coming! It’d be easier if I could get the words out and handle listening to myself talk, but still we move…albeit slowly!😂

Congratulations Nadia Jae and team on your gold Aria award for your Breakfast Show. It’s well deserved and as a member of the BC, I salute you!🫡

Keep on glowing Queen!

Yes, I am a LIVERPOOL supporter and We Never Walk Alone!! #YNWA

There’s Always A Way Out Of The Dark, Stay Blessed & #CelebrateLife

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Friend Or Foe, Let Them Go! (Part 2)

You may want to grab a beverage and a comfy seat. This is long. In every sense of the word!

I gave a warning in Reality Check 1, Cheque 2, Check Me! (Part 3) that I would not be allowing anyone to disturb my newfound level of peace, and in doing so I’ve recently had to lock off a friend. After a few back and forth messages I put a halt to it, and I meant it, but I would like to break some things down because as much as I tried to prevent it, some of their energy seeped through, so I’m releasing it here so that they, and anyone else who wants to move to me in the same manor can comprehend and maybe learn from it.

I don’t do riddles, I do real talk. If you have something to say to me, or I have upset you in some way, for the love of what’s good, TALK DA TING! I won’t be held responsible for making you feel a way about a matter I have no knowledge of.

In this particular case, I’d only recently started speaking to this person again after I was informed that I had let them down, I hadn’t told them about stuff I had been doing, I wasn’t a good friend and they wanted nothing more to do with me.

At the time I was going through a family bereavement and had forgotten to message them back. I did so a week later to get the response I got. I was happy to leave it because honestly, I had enough going on, and if they couldn’t take the time out to even ask me what was occurring in my life it was all good.

Roll on some months later and they kept popping into my head so I decided to hold out the olive branch and contact them. Despite our not talking they had been a good friend on and off and helped me out personally – and they were only on strike 2! They accepted the gesture and we discussed the events that led up to us not talking and aired out our grievances. 

We were good. Or so I thought.

I’ve put a new Instagram page up to showcase the blogs and impending podcasts, but before I did so I previewed the look to a handful of family and friends via WhatsApp – them included, as I’d been pulled up on not doing so before. They gave it a ‘heart’ and then proceeded to ask me why I hadn’t mentioned their business in my post…

Huh?…

I was confused, so asked them to elaborate. By all accounts I’d put up a post about something I’d bought and because I’d bought similar from them they wanted to know why I hadn’t included them in it.

The post they were speaking about I had posted nearly 3 weeks previously, and it was because I had purchased the items that same day that I decided to post about it. I told them this and said that I would hail their business up when I set my new page up. They then went on to say that it was from a viewpoint of them making me things and having a shop and it sounds impersonal to just shout out the business.

Now, If I had purchased something from them recently I could understand them mentioning it, but the fact is the last time I bought anything from them was about 7 years ago. They haven’t advertised their shop that I’m aware of, and if they did and asked me to share it I would without a doubt. The reason I bought these particular items in the first place was a post popped up and grabbed my attention.

Lesson 1: What you sow you reap. This works on many a level. They weren’t exactly in the forefront of my mind, but I’m presuming this person thought they should be and possibly could have been if they’d put a little effort in themselves.

I went on to remind them that I have given them their flowers recently and on several occasions previously and would once again do so when I set up the page.

Lesson 2: It’s always good to talk but it’s also good to know when to stop. This should have been a 2 paragraph tale at best, and one which should have contained the words, ‘Wow! That looks great Dawn. Well done. I’m really happy for you!’…or similar words to that effect.

Not a dicky bird! Instead they decided to continue further by saying they just felt they had to say something, which in turn made me want to say something and ask them if they’re actually ok? If I hadn’t been in contact when exactly were they going to tell me they were feeling some type of way and this shit was burning their chest? Furthermore, how often do they share my blogs? But I don’t watch that and do me and still manage to celebrate them, so where is the energy coming from? And believe me, I felt it coming.

I kid you not, it was like grey clouds coming to block my good, good sunshine. I could feel them creeping in. They responded back.

Lesson 3: Watch what you say and how you say it. Yes, things can be misconstrued via text message, but even still, sometimes shade is just fucking shade. 

This person may not have thought they were being shady and to be fair, it’s my fault in part. They’re a straight talker, but every now and then over the years they have slid in little comments that to the untrained ear sound like nothing but jest, but to me smell like something else. I never paid them no mind as I’m secure enough to brush it off, and tbh I think it’s so ingrained in them they don’t even realise they’re doing it.

Within the last paragraph I was told that they didn’t need to constantly big me up as they are not a fan they’re my friend, and they’re sad I think it’s about giving them flowers. They then informed me that they were done with this and they were sure we both had better things to do…

Again I was confused. That’s when I felt the tingle. Combined with the smell I knew that I was having an allergic reaction. BFD* was about! I text back a couple of hearts and left it at that with them, but our conversation inspired me to write a Facebook post.

I now ask you to remember Lesson 2 because some people really don’t know when enough is enough. Y’all wouldn’t even be hearing about this had folk just quit whilst they were ahead, but after seeing the Facebook post a few days later they decided they weren’t quite done yet and sent me a wonderful message full of love and praise and reminiscing on times of old with ‘all of the scrabbling, falling out and pissing each other off…’

I think I know what they were attempting to do but it in fact had the opposite effect. Firstly, it was literally days late and a dollar short. They should have come with that energy from the get go, not after being prompted by a social media post. Secondly, pointing out all of the scrabbling, falling out and pissing each other off only went to highlight that 99.9999999% of the time it was caused by some kind of issue they held with me, and me allowing it. 

I don’t know about you but I like to listen to my gut instinct. It hasn’t served me wrong so far, and I swear mine has been fine tuned since my time away. Every fibre of my being was saying allow this one – but properly! I listened. I didn’t respond back. 

A week later I got a message asking what’s going on with me as there was obviously something up.

As much as I want to keep my peace I thought it only fair to give some kind of closure, so messaged a short text back stating that there was a lot going on but it was too long to break down. I asked them to re-read our messages then read Reality Check…3 and go with love because I don’t have the energy for their energy.

LESSON 2 Y’ALL. LESSON👏🏾TWO!👏🏾

Instead of thinking let me stop now they felt the need to go again. I didn’t respond but things they said triggered me; which is why I’m here typing this long ass blog!😂

They said I have some disingenuous people around me, but they can assure me they have never been one of them. 

At this point I’m wondering if they know what the word actually means?

They didn’t mention any particular people, but if you’re gonna throw out big, bold statements like that amongst my friends you put yourself in the spotlight and up for appraisal too. You can talk on and feel any which way you want to about me, but let me tell you about my true people – and I’m going to use Christina Brooks-Abraham as the perfect example.

She was sincerely one of the realest people you could hope to meet. She not only knew her shit stunk but she’d give you a blow by blow account of the texture if you wanted it.😂 

She held no airs and graces and welcomed you with love and a smile. I know there were some who didn’t like her – we’d spoken about it, and it’s natural that not everybody is going to like you, regardless of how nice you are, and she in turn didn’t warm to a few, but not many. I also know that if some had tried to talk to her about whatever their issue with her was, instead of holding it in and letting it fester, she would have gladly listened to them and more than likely resolve it. No one is perfect and I’m not saying she was, but damn her heart was huge, understanding and forgiving.

In all our years of friendship I never had anything but love shown and words of advice and wisdom from her and her family. No scrabbling, falling out and pissing each other off – not once. She supported me in ALL of my endeavours and heartaches, and not just me but my family too. She was a part of the Mistletoe And Wine family and was there to support my husbands promotions in whichever way she could.

She loved our love and was honestly like a big sister. It was she who insisted and persisted in telling me about the power of forgiveness and speaking my truth, and if it wasn’t for her and her daughter Tanya, I wouldn’t have started writing when I did. Going through the blogs not many people took the time out to leave a comment, but she was the most consistent and I will treasure each one.

That is the type of people, energy and vibe I want to be surrounded by.

I may go by the name NuDawn but it’s not a persona. I’m not a celebrity – I’m just me. I don’t believe I’m something extra special. I have never claimed any of my friends or acquaintances to be ‘fans’. If I’m liked it’s probably because of Lesson 1. I put out love and receive it.

At no point has Tina or ANY of my genuine friends stepped to me with the energy that this person has, well, not since 2018 anyway, and I nipped that ish in the bud. 

So imma put it to you guys – who sounds more disingenuous to you?

The friend in question also stated that they were not going to read my blogs and would wait for me to address them as that’s the respectful grown up thing to do. About that…

I told y’all I’m still doing the work with forgiveness but that’s not all I’m working on. I can’t stress enough the importance of self love and preservation, and part of that is knowing when to be adult enough to not bite and draw that type of energy in. I’m about respecting myself and if that doesn’t work for you or you want to label me as whatever I truthfully have zero fucks to give.

So with that in mind I’m restricting my boundaries even further – much to the delight of my husband I’m sure – the 3 Strikes rule is now completely null and void and the By Any Means Necessary Protocol is in FULL effect!

Phhhhewww!!! Now admit it, you feel a piece drained just reading that right? Y’all had to top up that drink and draw for the ‘erbs and sage init!? If you felt it through the blog can you imagine taking it on!?!?

With all of that said you’d think I hate them but I don’t and I hope it hasn’t come across that way, but I can’t be around them and they’re gonna have a long old wait for me to present myself to them. Personally I believe that they’d do well to read my blogs but to each their own. They are super talented and have the power and ability to be great but they’re blocking themselves with that energy.

Lesson 4: Some people are just too inna. Inna drama, inna their feelings and inna other peoples business when really and truly the only inna they need to be focusing on is their inner self.

R.I.P Josie Heywood, Harry Belafonte and all those who have lost their lives recently.

Happy 21st Earthday/Birthday to my last born Princess Sadé. The world is yours – own it!

*BFD – Bullshit, Fuckery & Drama! Refer to Part 1 for further context. (Link)

Know Your Boundaries, Stay Blessed & #CelebrateLife

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Love Is A Losing Game

My firstborn asked me if there was anything I’ve got to tell her after my declaration of love at the end of last week’s post. I’m guessing once bitten twice shy and all that, but I reassured her that to the best of my knowledge I’m good, and explained my reasoning, so I’m going to fill you in too.

I previously said that I went away to an ultimately life changing retreat at the end of January, what I didn’t tell you was that on the same day I returned home, within not 10 minutes of me stepping through the front door, a very good friend of mine, Christina Brooks-Abraham, aka Queen Mama T and a plethora of other titles, suddenly passed away.

She hadn’t been well recently and had set up a WhatsApp group so that the many people who were interested in her welfare and checking in could all be in the one space, and I’d sent a message a couple of hours earlier bidding her and the others good morning, excited to tell her about what I’d experienced when I got home. We had many conversations over the decades, and throughout the cancer and family drama I went through she was the most persistent in telling me about forgiveness and its importance.

I understood the concept but couldn’t quite grasp it, until I did!, and she was the first person I wanted to tell.

She never got that message, and I’m not going to go into details of her passing just yet as there is an impending podcast with her daughters that will cover the events, but to say despite her being ill it was totally unexpected is to say the least. You can be focused looking one way and then life will throw a curveball and lick you in the head.

The following week after Tina passed I lost another friend, and then 2 weeks ago another Queen. We’d been friends for many years, and she too had given me sound advice throughout the crazy that was my life, but we hadn’t been talking recently. She had been ill for a couple of years and I know she was having a hard time with the effects of her illness and treatment, enough for it to dim her light and make her want to isolate, and I understood that. Our disagreement was trivial by any standard and I believe exacerbated by outside ‘people’. I was hoping that given time we would work it out but that wasn’t to be the case.

I admit that for a moment I questioned myself as to should I attend her funeral. I’m not sure what she’d told people and didn’t want to have them questioning why I was there. But the thing is, even though we weren’t speaking that didn’t effect the love I had for her. I still lit my candle and sent it her way regardless. I can’t deny that our disagreement hurt and upset me, but in no way near enough to not care. 

So I’ve decided that I will attend, even if it’s just the church service. I have faith that she’ll know it’s down to the love and not just to be ‘inna’* and I’d like to pay my respects.

I’m not religious. I can’t deal with all the isms, skisms and nonces that come attached. I’ve always been a more spiritual being, even from my younger days. Despite “fitting in” to a certain degree I’ve always been a piece dry!😂 – well, to those who are bothered by the superficial at least. That sense of being a free spirit has been present for as long as I can remember. I just do my thing and live and let live, unless it’s something dastardly, but in general I’m happy to sip water and mind my business…preferably coconut and in the sunshine with some tunes and a few choice ‘erbs**, but I digress.

Personally I find religion divisive and critical, BUT I understand people wanting to have faith in something, so attempt not to judge others beliefs. If it helps you make it through the day and you’re not hurting anyone or yourself, do you boo! It’s what I’ve had to lean on. Faith that the higher power knows what the fuck she’s doing.

When mum passed away I knew that I had attempted to and done the best for her within my capacity, but I wondered if she knew it. Dementia’s a bitch. She had her lucid moments but they were very few and far between. Words my siblings said rang in my head. She didn’t want to be put in a home. She had assumed that her children would do for her what she had done for them for so many years. That could well have been the case, but she assumed love would be worth more than money, bricks and mortar, and as they say, to assume makes an ass of you and me.

So I did what had to be done to ensure she was the most safe and secure. I couldn’t give her her home but I could give her my love, time and attention. I could make new memories, even if they only lasted the day or a few hours.

I’ve always had faith, but not of the religious kind. I believe that love will see me through. Have no doubt, I’ve seriously questioned the hell out of certain circumstances, but could always rely on it in some way, be that of thyself or through others.

I got the answers I needed at the retreat, and with that a better understanding of death, and the loss I felt is nowhere near where it was – to the point of me being able to not bawl at How Great Thou Art and you can safely play Rise Up by Andra Day without having to offer me a tissue. I still get sad but they’re happier tears if that makes any sense, and I am fully aware that’s it’s ok to cry, whatever kinda tears they may be. It’s invariably better out than in.

The truth is if faith and fate hadn’t put me where I was I don’t know how I’d have handled all the losses of late on top of everything else, especially the complete randomness of a couple, and that is the realist of real talks! I’ve always believed that your spirit moves on from the vessel – the transition – and I think I’ve had confirmation. In fact I’m pretty certain. I know some of you will be wondering what planet I’m on but I legit don’t give a shit! It’s allowed me to deal and heal so with all due respect y’all can feel any which way you want!

My deepest, sincerest condolences and sympathies going out to all of the bereaved. Sending love, light and healing vibes your way, and to all those who have lost their lives this week.

Shouting out the WhatsApp Wellbeing Group, with a special mention for Khadijah and Serenity.

It’s a joy to watch you both grow.

*The Black populous will understand what I mean, and for those who don’t understand just know you don’t wanna be it!

**I feel like I may have said this before somewhere along the line…🤔…if you read it again in a previous blog you’ll know I’m being truly sincere!😂

Eid Mubarak to all those who are celebrating today.

You’ve Gotta Have Faith, Stay Blessed & #CelebrateLife

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Reality Check 1, Cheque 2, Check Me! (Part 3)

“Only love can set you free

Love will be everything you need

A little faith, charity

If you just believe

Open up, let it in

It will change everything, really

Love is life, love is free

If you only just believe.”

Kelly Price ~ Love Sets You Free

Well dang!, it’s been a while! How you doing? I’d like to think you’re all ok, but I know for a fact that 2023 came in firing shots left, right and centre and nuff people caught them strays.

I’d love to say I managed to avoid being hit but that’s not the case. January was one hell of a month with twists and turns I’d never imagined – like, NEVER! I’ll get around to sharing some of those later, but firstly let me give you a lil’ overview.

I decided to write the Reality Check… blogs to cover three aspects of my life – Health, Wealth and Happiness. Supposedly the most important 3 things you need in life, which I agree with, but not necessarily in that order. I believe if you’re happy you’ll have an easier time with the other two (that’s just my philosophy!), but nevertheless I put them in that order. I made a start with parts 1 and 2, but didn’t feel ready for part 3.

I attempted on several occasions but could never get past a few paragraphs. I’d made actual steps to work on the health and wealth side (updates pending!), but the happiness part needed work! If you’ve read any of the Disclaimers, Tales Of The Dales or Family Matters you’d know this as I made my feelings and emotions crystal clear to say the least!😅

One of the main reasons I wanted to write my blogs was to tell my side of a sad, mad tale of fuckery and heartache that had been and continued to be in my life for the past few years.

It’s crazy the way the world works! I thought after mum had passed that I was ok-ish, well, ok-ish in the sense that I no longer had to be around certain members of my family and I knew that mum was at peace so it was fine. Huh! Little did I know the truth was on her way to slap me in the face and claw at my heart.

Mum passed away on the 3rd January 2020, and despite knowing she’s at peace whenever the anniversary rolled around I still couldn’t help but feel emotional and miss her. The week after the anniversary I attended a funeral of an old family friend of my mums. You need to consider my emotions were already high, and now I’m sat in a church listening to all of the hymns she loved and feeling the grieving family’s loss too. 

I fully expected my brother to be there, so wasn’t surprised to see him. What I didn’t expect was for him to give a speech. It wasn’t in the order of service so I was totally blindsided. He and another lady were front and centre so I had no option but to look at him. I felt my heartbeat quicken and my ears getting warm and muffled. The first sign. A few folk know there is no love lost between us, and as I’ve mentioned I have spoken about it openly, so I knew a few eyes would be on me. Then as luck would have it a mobile rang out and everyone looked to see whose it was. Unfortunately it was the woman’s sat next to me, so if folk didn’t know I was sat there feeling uncomfortable as fuck they soon got to know.

I was with my husband but he’d had to pop out to move the car before he got a ticket, so the spotlight was fully on me and I was without my force field. Then it was my brothers turn to speak and as I listened to a particular story he regaled I felt like I was being battered emotionally. My chest hurt. My head hurt. My throat was closing and the hottest silent tears were streaming down my face. When I tell you I had to hold my shit together you honestly don’t know! My body was doing that shaky business when you try to hold the sobs in, and then I felt a hand on my shoulder from my friend Maureen sat on the pew behind me, and another old family friend, Geraldine, gave my knee a squeeze and sympathetic eyes over her face mask. Much appreciated Queens.

There were too many emotions in the mix, but the most predominant one was rage. Sign two. His ending line almost took me out. I realised I had been holding my breath. I wanted to scream and shout and get up there and rip his throat out, but naturally was aware of where I was so tried to focus on breathing and remaining sane. And then he was done and moseyed on back to his seat whilst I was left a teary mess.

After the service I had numerous people approach me and tell me how moved they were by my brothers heartfelt speech but I couldn’t manage to agree. As much as I didn’t want to cause a scene, there’s no way I could stand there and pretend I’d enjoyed it. I kept it civil but known that that was very much their opinion, but having been a part of the tale he’d told I had a slightly different outlook.

When I got home and reflected on things I understood that I’d only been fooling my damn self into thinking I was over the hold they had on me. I’d managed to disguise it because they were out of sight out of mind, but the higher power was CLEARLY telling me you gon’ learn today bitch!😂

I got the message that day, which is the only way you can truly deal with your issues is to deal with them head on. When you can face it and it doesn’t phase you only then can you claim to be good with it. With all of the above and other little signs I knew á la Kevin Hart – she wasn’t ready!! Fortunately for me I’m grounded enough to know what my issues are and I knew I had to find a way to handle it.

Even more fortunately for me, the week before I had accepted an offer to go away to a retreat for a few days at the end of the month, which turned out to be the beginning and the end. Beginning of the true NuDawn and an end to the ties. I’ve always been about the love, and love truly is key, but there was a big piece of me that had a VERY hard time with forgiveness, especially for my siblings and the years of bullshit.

I have finally found peace and it has been a long time coming. I’ve said time and again that I try to protect and preserve it but this!…this time is different. Hear me when I say:

NO ONE WILL BE ALLOWED TO DISTURB MY PEACE!

NO👏🏾ONE👏🏾

Love really did set me free and I will be deflecting all negative and/or toxic energy by using an any means necessary protocol. I’m not having it. End of. If you don’t hear me you will most definitely feel me.

I can honestly say I’m good now, but that road was far from fucking easy! I’ve re-read some of the old blogs and could clearly remember the thoughts and feelings, yet luckily for those involved they carry no weight now. I say luckily for them because the tea that was going to be spilled woulda had the devil begging to cool it down! When I say I’m the keeper of receipts MARK MY WORDS! That energy has gone* and been replaced, but it was a part of me, and I’m not about to deny it or shy away from it. You’ve got to know where you’re coming from to know where you’re going to.

I’ll be wrapping up Tales Of The Dales with a couple more chapters, but before I do I’m going to re-share the blogs containing the events that would be the pathway to eventually lead me to being the most at peace I’ve ever experienced in my Earthly existence to date. It turns out the signs were there, and although they had been acknowledged I didn’t have a scooby about their capacity! 

With all of the above being said, I feel the need to write this now more than ever, in black and white so there can be no doubt. To all of my loved ones – friends and family alike – and anyone who has shown me love or bettered my life in any way, shape or form, I love you all and feel blessed to have received it and given it in return. Should I pass away tomorrow know that I managed to overcome all of the madness and sadness I’ve written about over the years and I am truly happy. The missing piece of my puzzle is complete. I’m genuinely all good and thankh you all WHOLEheartedly.

There will be an accompanying podcast to go over each blog because tbh, as much as I like writing it’d be way too much to type!

R.I.P Christina Brooks-Abraham, Paul Muhammad, Maureen De Silva, Tara Bailey and all those who have lost their lives recently.

Thee most amount of love and thankhs going out to Josh, Leon, Empress Naïma and the whole Daily Deposits Tribe! Y’all don’t even know!🖤💚

*Mostly! I’m still doing the work and saying the mantras so don’t test the waters just yet. They may still be a lil’ choppy!

Only Love Can Set You Free, Stay Blessed & #CelebrateLife

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Reality Check 1, Cheque 2, Check Me! (Part 2)

Cheque 2

“Children, children…

Yes Papa,

Where have you been to?

Grandmama,

How is she keeping?

Safe and sound,

What did she teach you?

DON’T BEND DOWN!”

Lloyd Lovindeer ~ Don’t Bend Down

I decided a while ago that when I returned back to work after taking care of Mum it wouldn’t be working for ‘the man’ wherever possible, and primarily it would be doing something that I’d always wanted to do. Obviously I know that it’s easier said than done. Them bills gotta be paid!, and it’s not easy out there for everyday folk. 

I’m thankful that my circumstances so far have allowed me to stick to what I have decided – for now anyway. I’ve never been about the money. I know there are plenty of people out there who are on their grind constantly to make that paper and spend it on the highlife. I totally get that and more power to you, but that has never been the life for me. I’m not big on the materialistic. I’m not hating. Some people assume that’s your temperament because you don’t have the money, and your thinking would be different if you could afford it. I can’t deny they’re right in part, but it’s a very small part. 

If I had a wealth of disposable income I’d no doubt have a few nice little touches – but honestly, overall I’m happy with my lot – which can sometimes be hard for others to understand or believe. I’ve already explained in Can You Feel The Beat?, so I won’t go over it all again – just know that there are many of us out here who it takes very little to make happy, and despite what you may think, we’re good! In that blog I talk about certain beats in life and setting your levels, and it’s exactly that that has me writing this today.

As I mentioned in Check 1, last year I was (still am!) going through some thaanggs, and my mojo took a hit to say the least. I had plans, thoughts and ideas but it was a struggle to get myself together and, full disclosure, certain things are still a struggle; but this year has been a lot more progressive, and an opportunity arose for me to do some work that I enjoyed and would be paid to do – a win-win if ever I saw one, so naturally I accepted the offer. I had a couple of meetings with them and then I started to feel the beat; and it was off! 

Now I need to pause right here and give props to Queen Kelechi Okafor. If it wasn’t for me tuning in to her podcast and choosing the third tarot card reading people would be getting fully bought out and exposed.

F👏🏾U👏🏾L👏🏾L👏🏾Y! 

But, I’m going to heed what was advised and hold my corner for now. Instead I’ll break it down like this:

The Beat

By beat, I mean what tune is being played? Are you in sync and rocking together, or is someone playing you like a fiddle and expecting you to jump to their beat? I had a few crystal clear signs that the people I was dealing with were of the latter thinking and that nah ga’ work! When you’re running or conducting business there is a basic standard and/or principle that should be set and, to be fair, it’s really not that fucking hard to do. Communication is key, and in this day and age there really are no excuses to be had when it comes to putting it into practice! But when you’re dealing with certain demographics it’s not about how easy or hard things are, it’s more to do with who they think they are.

Without getting too deep into my particular situation, the Black/White ratio was an issue here. And trust me, this isn’t about me playing the race card – more the raas card!

The Levels

Setting your levels is highly important. It’s basically another way of saying KNOW YOUR WORTH. People can only treat you how you allow them to. What are you willing to contend with? What are you willing to do or not do? How long do you let shit slide for? What are your boundaries? Under the right circumstances I’m pretty patient and tolerant. I know that we’re only human and things don’t always go according to plan and mistakes can be made, I’m not unreasonable; but understand when it looks and smells like a piss take know you get 3 strikes* and then you’re out! I really don’t business. That’s one of the levels I’ve set for myself as life is way too short to waste on fuckery and my time is precious! 

There are things we all want in life no mater how big or small, cheap or expensive. How we go about getting it and what we’re willing to do for it is another thing. You should never be made to feel less than or tolerated, especially when the example others set are below your standards. I, for one, am not willing to play small, do myself down or sell my soul to the devil to get mine or what you have to offer. It sometimes amazes me what others will put up with to stunt on others.

Grandmama was giving her grandkids a reality cheque! Money can’t buy everything, especially integrity, and you don’t have to bend down or over and assume the position to get yours! Have faith, your time will come, and without you having to put up with other peoples shit.

For those who believe they are entitled to treat others like a claart don’t be surprised when you get raased up!

WE ARE NOT ALL THE SAME!

R.I.P Desmond Tutu, Betty White and to all those who have lost their lives recently, and forever remembering those who have passed away.

Wishing you all a Very Happy, Healthy & Blessed New Year And Beyond🖤

*Not every occurrence will get 3 chances, it depends on the severity – sometimes it’s one and done but, NEVER any more than 3!

Straighten Your Crown & Don’t Bend Down! Stay Blessed & #CelebrateLife

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Reality Check 1, Cheque 2, Check Me!

Check 1

“Sometimes it’s hard to be a woman. Givin’ all your love to just one man…”

Tammy Wynette ~ Stand By Your Man

Have you ever heard a song and thought, “Yessss! THAT PART!” Well personally, I believe Tammy needn’t have gone on with the rest of the song; she’d already done killed it with the one opening line. (To those of you who know the rest of the lyrics to Stand By Your Man and are thinking tea is about to be spilt, you really couldn’t be further from the bloody truth!)

Granted 2020 hit differently for a lot of people and for many reasons, but for me, it wasn’t just a hit – it was a series of knockout punches to the solar plexus that continued relentlessly. In a few short, (yet feeling extremely long) months, I had to contend with more grief, toxicity and bullshit than I had ever known or knew what to do with. I’m relatively “strong” but it was all getting a bit too much. On top of that I moved house which, thanks to covid, bought with it new challenges.

I can admit now to feeling all kinds of a way. My emotions were all over the place and as much as I tried to fix up and find the fight and positivity, it was all getting me down. I’d talk to friends and family but never really fully expressing just how shitty I felt. I was struggling but trying to put up a good front. I had been trying to keep myself occupied during lockdown by learning new skills, but found I couldn’t retain information, which in turn made me feel even worse and as thick as the shit I was feeling.

I didn’t want to do anything. Netflix, Disney+ and music were my best friends. I didn’t want to write. I didn’t want to read. I didn’t want to do fuck all but tune out and virtually escape as due to lockdown, it was physically impossible to do so. Everything was getting to me or stressing me out. I knew I needed some kind of help so thought I’d try Talking Therapies, which was helpful to some degree, but even with understanding all they were saying I just couldn’t get my emotions in check and I knew there was more to it.

As a woman of a certain age it’s inevitable that there’s a journey we go through with our bodies, and I’ve recently had more signs that it was on its way; only to be told by the professionals after enquiring that that wasn’t the case. All the while my body was hollering, “Nah bee, they’re lying to you!”

I’m not sure of what percentage of males will read this but I’d like to believe they’re man enough to handle this topic, if only to garner a little sympathy for what any females in their life could possibly be experiencing.

I can be as cool as you like one minute, the next I’m making radiators jealous with the heat emanating from my body. Added to that is the joy of night sweats – as naturally you’ve gotta share the love throughout the whole 24 hours. I’ve mentioned it once…or maybe twice…possibly a little more to certain males in my vicinity that y’all don’t realise just how good you actually have it when it comes to your bodies.

As women, from a young age ours prepare us for the prospect of temporary lodgings for a baby. And yes, bringing new life into the world is a blessing, but pregnancy offers up a whole range of different, not so pleasant experiences that accompany the magic; and regardless of whether we want to have children or not, we still have the ‘joy’ of our monthly visitor to look forward to.

Understand the word joy is dripping with sarcasm. It is in fact the polar opposite. Some women manage to breeze through theirs without a hitch, but from my very first one they’ve been a bitch! I started at 10 and I’m nearly 47 now. Decades of hell and no, they didn’t ease up after having babies as I’d heard can happen. I’ve had a few reprieves due to the contraceptive pill, but they just lull you into a false sense of security. You’re all good living your period free life, then WHAM!!, they come back at you with a vengeance even John McClane would struggle to deal with.

The reality of periods is that although they help to bring about life, they can also bring with them a whole heap of mess and pain. In correlation to the pain, it can be doubled for some if on top of the monthly beat down you’re getting, you are trying to get pregnant and sadly not succeeding. It is, after all, supposed to be the one upside of having the buggers.

I in no way feel like my youth is slipping away and I wholeheartedly embrace Aunty stature. It’s time for those bitch ass eggs to dry the hell up and leave me in peace.

I 100% feel for all of those who are in that position, and I’m aware that as much as I’m cursing periods out that they too are a blessing, and I have two beautiful daughters to show for them, BUT – I HAVE SERVED MY TIME! Things were bad enough when they were regular, but now it’s a lucky dip as to how long my cycle will be and I’m guaranteed it’ll be flowing like the Orinoco. That’s just another delight that comes with being the bearer of heavy, painful periods. You’re constantly on edge. Whispering silent prayers as you stand up that that gush that was supposed to be held back by your layers of leakproof (yeh, right) protection hasn’t soaked through to your clothes.

It’s little wonder that going out is the last thing I want to do. It’s bad enough being paranoid of leaking whilst sat at home in bed with chronic back and stomachache whilst munching on a bag of sweet and salty popcorn, getting bleary eyed over a restoration on The Repair Shop, without the added pressure of being outside somewhere and having an accident that you have to try and sort out in some manky toilet. There are way too many variables to take the risk.

If you’re as truly blessed as I am, you’ll also have the ‘joy’ of being an emotional, hormonal wreck before, during and after your cycle. The urge to wanna fuck someone up over what would possibly be seen as a minor infringement to others is overwhelmingly phenomenal. These hands could do damage if you chew wrong, so it’s best to keep myself to myself! I went back to the professionals to get checked out and they found I’m currently extremely anaemic (I can’t think why), and I’m awaiting a scan to check and see if my fibroids have grown.

Just know that to put it bluntly, my periods have fucked me sideways for way too long and I’m sooo over them. I in no way feel like my youth is slipping away and I wholeheartedly embrace Aunty stature. It’s time for those bitch ass eggs to dry the hell up and leave me in peace.

I’ve only given you the highlights. There are many more facets I could really go in-depth and tell you about, like clots, sore boobs and the period shits, but I don’t wanna spoil you too much. After doing some research and listening to some ladies who are working their way through the menopause (aka, menace – no pause), I realised that it’s more than likely the reason as to why I’m finding it so hard to function and I’m not going to beat myself up over it anymore. It is what it is.

Sometimes you have to check yourself before you wreck yourself and that’s exactly what I’m doing. Tammy was right. Sometimes it’s hard to be a woman, but I’ll be damned if I’m giving ALL my love to just one man. That’s not to say I don’t love mine and I’ll naturally stand by him, but as women we physically go through a lot in comparison to what men do – and self love is where we need to start.

Stand By Yo’ Ass!

R.I.P to all those who have lost their lives this week.

Check On You Boo, Stay Blessed & #CelebrateLife

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