LIVING AGELESS AND TRANSPARENCY

As a ‘Baby Boomer” growing up in government row housing in the 50’s and 60’s was not easy in the South. At a time when families of color were Thankful to have indoor plumbing. Even though, it was as unsafe as hell with that damn bubbling boiling belly of a gas lite hot water heater that sat dangerously close to the gas lite stove in that small musty brick 2-bedroom apartment an explosion waiting to happen. We kept it pristine clean heavy waxed and moped commercial tile floors, the girls had to hand embroider colorful flowers on pillow slips on the weekend, and we would help mamma make pralines. On my dad’s few and far between visits to brick plaza to see his brick babies almost always ended in domestic violence between my parents. Especially, when my dad took one drink of white port wine. The loud shouts of unspeakable names would send them both into violent rages. I use to run and hid in the closet just hate how that noise would fuck with my nervous system spikes of nervousness up and down my spine. My late parents had this stuff down to a science because if the police were called by one of the neighbors. My dad would compose himself like he was reading a magazine while sitting calmly in the living room chair so the police could not arrest him.  All this was probably why; I was delayed in my speech for so many years emotionally fucked. However, that blank police visit would give rise to part 2 of the fighting, and by night fall momma and her three little girls would have to flee in the night by running to safety at a relative apartment where, we would all sleep on a make shift bed on the floor. We all knew the grill “…Don’t tell anyone about the fight…” Did my mom just teach us to lie and hide?  As usual the next morning we would all get dressed for school hair combed and uniforms keeping the secret, and momma would do the same going to the sewing factory turning tables. I think this gave birth to my fear of rejection, and intimacy, which lead to a co-dependency in an emotionally unavailable  relationship. “…Gonna lay down my burdens…”

The truth will set you free…

Besides my mature brain cannot contain all that pain anymore writing a new narrative one that does not hurt so much. The magic is not in what I loss, but what is still left #findingbalancinourlife. Re-parenting self is really cool…

Categories: Content Market Building, transparency

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