Love

Dream Chasing Mom…

Pure guilt was the feeling I have felt over the past few days. I had to absorb some positive vibes and perspectives from some of the mothers I admire. Yesterday and today the devil was in full affect trying to find ways to attack me. First it was my social life through the failed attempt to date, and now my son. Now when I say devil attacks and when others speak of it, I no longer perceive it as an outside source. Instead, like the God in me, there is also the complete opposite. The worry, stress, anger, and darker emotions I control, are the shadow self/devil. I’m sure many will disagree but I am entitled to my opinion. On my current journey to finally get us relocated, I have had to make some sacrifices with the support of amazing friends. In my space of my unknown, I wanted to check in with my son to see how he felt about everything. This has become very important to me that I incorporate his opinion as it truly matters. Back in the day, children had no voice. Now don’t get me wrong, he is not responsible for the final decision, but his voice matters. Yesterday was the first day that he asked about his father and that caught me off guard. I was the one checking in with him about his father just to see if he missed him. The good thing about the situation is his father distanced himself months prior to being incarcerated. I told him that I will work with his grandmother to allow him to speak to him. He has no clue what’s going on, but then again I’m sure he has an idea. We as adults don’t give children enough credit, they really know more than we think. I started googling research articles on children with parents in jail, and the affects of relocating on a child. According to one of the articles, children have no chance at life due to those type of situations. This meaning they are pretty much screwed because of their parents choices. They have very minimal chances at becoming successful (to society standards) and have higher suicidal rates, drug use, and life expectancy. I couldn’t go to sleep thinking about the fact that this is what society believes of children that come from these unfortunate circumstances. This is what motivates me. This very fucking statistic or box they want to put on me as a black single mother and my black son.

Dreams don’t cease when you become an adult, they become blurred by the illusion of life. Most people are distracted and have become complacent and comfortable in their day to day. I have always strived for different and even more so now with my clarity, I no longer have the desire to conform to that which is considered norm. In my family when you get pregnant the women tell you your dreams and goals are done. I have decided to challenge this. One thing that I have found is that chasing your dreams becomes twice as hard, but not impossible. I have also found that women fall into two extreme categories and very few have found their balance. There are the women that sacrifice their lives for their children to the point they have no clue to who they are. Many sacrifice to the point of resentment or spend their child’s life force feeding them their own dreams.  Then there are the mothers that are so selfish that they don’t take time to get to know their children. They spend so much time to themselves that their children grow up to resent them for not being available. Next life I want to come as a man. I have never seen a man feel guilty or a burden for chasing his dreams. He may do so alone with minimal support, but without guilt. If women are single with no children chasing their dreams they are told they are incomplete without a family. My mentors and mother reminded me today that me chasing my dreams teaches my son to think big. Right now he wants us to have a big home, big family, pets, and to travel. I want to show him the world. To show him that he can create his own dream job. I want him to see our current environment is not all life has to offer. He has seen me walk across the stage to obtain my degree. He constantly raves that his mother is an author. I can’t wait to show him the beauty of this world. “Make his dreams bigger than what he sees.” she told me. “How does a child that hasn’t experienced the world know what they want?” This very question made me realize the importance of balance. I am taking the baby steps to achieve this life of freedom for both of us. It may not make life easier for him but it will show him that life truly is the best university. Ladies remove the guilt of chasing your dreams. We nurture everyone and everything outside of ourselves. The greatest way to show our children love is to love ourselves. That includes nurturing the very things we love…our dreams.

P.S.

The guilt-free dream chaser

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Love

Shoot your shot…

“I miss you.” He said via the blue text box on my iPhone. We hadn’t spoken for at least a week, and the timing of the message immediately left me suggesting he was out drinking. I just finished an event in Philadelphia feeling empowered and healed. It was nice to see the gesture, but I was on a high of self-love. It took me a while to respond, but I shared I missed our conversations too. The text ceased as he was only compelled to share what was on his mind. We didn’t know each other well, but I had recently invested every ounce of my very spare time attempting to change this. I try not to get attached to any of the new men in my life as they all have had the same track record of leaving as soon as I show an ounce of interest. This guy seemed very invested, goal oriented, and interested in my life as a single mother. He was from my hometown, and the age differences showed as our associations were not connected. Keeping in contact with others when my schedule was busy can be difficult. He was different, so I gave it a chance.

Rewind two months prior, I receive a direct message from a man in a blue suit looking  sharp as a GQ cover model. Not my usual type, but what woman can turn down a man in a suit. The image he sent was a man jumping into a pool head first (also known as a GIF). I can’t usually tell when a man is flirting but this was clear he was diving head first in “shooting his shot”. “Shooting your shot” is the new informal way of trying to grab someones attention and letting them know your interested. This is done by connecting through social media outlet’s direct messenger. I was not even thinking about men at all due to the recurrent issues I have had with my situationship. No matter how many attempts I have had to show this man I was the one, he showed me I was one of many. Needless to say this guy caught me off guard. I have had a lot of young guys show interest as if I was still in my twenties, but age doesn’t always mean maturity. He was five years younger which was a red flag for me. I found out later he had a real mans aspirations, with little boy behavior.

“Are you okay?” He asked via the blue text box on my iPhone. The morning I received word from my ex-husbands, ex-girlfriend the news about my son’s father. I was confused as to how this man could know what was going on as soon as I found out. I was on an emotional rollercoaster and couldn’t believe the news I had just heard. I was angry, disappointed, and embarrassed. I knew the guy I had been talking to was aware of who my son’s father was but I just didn’t understand how he knew ahead of me. “How did you know, and when did you hear?” I asked him confused. “I knew since Saturday, the day I had text you about missing you. That night I was out drinking because I lost one of my friends.” He explained. At that moment I was confused and empathetic for his loss. So many people from my past resurfacing, my phone ringing off the hook with concerned people about the nightmare that occurred. Everything seemed a blur. My trust and sense of security was disrupted. My son is half of this man, and I was married to this man. I have seen him in his darkness but never had I ever believed he was capable of this. “I’m so sorry about your friend. ” I responded, not putting the pieces together. “It wasn’t my place to tell you. I’m sorry your going through this.” he replied. The man I was getting to know was the friend to the man who lost is life at the hands of my ex-husband.

 

 

Love

Custody…

A lot of people don’t know much about this part of my story…so I figured I would share it. Hopefully this may help someone. Recently, I was granted full custody of my son after fighting four years in the court system with his father. Recently meaning within the last two weeks. When I say I cried, that would be an understatement. The journey to fight for what’s right for my son was not easy and to be honest the fight was never about him. My ex-husband wanted to find a way to control my life and what better way than try to make my life miserable. A year ago, I decided that I needed a change and I wanted to relocate to the DC area. I tried selling my house but with it being the holiday months I didn’t get many interested buyers. I ended up finding renters and began packing to start anew. I had no clue that I needed permission to leave with my son. When I left my hometown to make my “family” work no one questioned me, except for family and friends. “Why the hell would you uproot yourself to give that man a try?” many would say. He had me on a one year trial like a fucking free subscription and it was back to the shenanigans. I thought that after getting a divorce that my life I envisioned for me would begin, but boy was I wrong. Just like men complain about women and them using the children against them, this also goes for some women. I was fed up and needed my freedom, and in my case I was required to fight. Between child support court, divorce court, and family court I was mentally drained. He played the system just like he played me. I rarely received any money from him for child support and if I did it was enforced by the judge. I was denied the relocation and my fresh start last year. Three days before I was to move to our new place, I received a notice in the mail stating I couldn’t go anywhere. With tenants moving in, no place to move my belongings, a moving truck and place set up, I had to stay in Pennsylvania. In less than 72 hours I had to find a place for my son and I to live. I lived in a 3,500 square foot home with a shit ton of stuff that I ended up either giving it away or selling it. I was lucky enough to have a friend that new a landlord with a studio available. Money lost and more money spent. What are you willing to give up for the life you truly want?

A year later I ended up in that same exact court. In front of the same exact judge that denied me my previous relocation. I was always fair as my son’s relationship with his father was important to me. I know the importance of maintaining that relationship but what if it was toxic? My son’s father was not living his life right, did not provide or contribute to his son’s life, but some how convinced the courts that my son had a better support system in Pennsylvania. The support we had, I created it. Our family at the YMCA, my girlfriends, and fellow mothers have all played a role in supporting my son and I. Needless to say neither him or his family had anything to do with it. I am the person that continuously initiates contact. Not one family member contacts me during the holidays or birthdays to even spend time with him. Yet, I have the title of the bitter baby mother. I did my research and realized the past had repeated itself. My ex-husband’s father took him from his mother in Haiti. Instead of fighting, she left to build a better life in America. I see the outcome as a result of their relationship. A mother consumed with guilt for not being there and a man who felt abandoned and unloved. The result of this is his current incarceration. I knew the day I stepped in the court last year that I did not stand a chance but I represented myself anyway. With the many roles that I currently play, attorney became one of them. Here I as a single mother working hard to raise our son. Not having the financial means at the time to hire an attorney. The very man that refused to pay child support had an attorney. I guess in the streets you must have the money for the attorney by all means necessary. I had every document and argument of why it would be best for us to relocate. I was denied. I cried and did not understand why this man could control our lives when he was not living life right. I was willing to give him every weekend, every holiday, and every school vacation and he still disagreed. The man didn’t even live in Pennsylvania.

This time in court it was different. I held my head up high because I was still standing. The judge had no clue how much her one second decision had affected my son and I. This time I was evolved and prepared for whatever decision was thrown my way. This time I was ready to fight. I was not going to take no for an answer especially after the news I received a few weeks ago. My son’s safety had become a priority and it was time for me to rid myself of being affected by this man’s behavior. This time in court was different because he was over a phone. A year later everything I brought up in court was seen by those who once didn’t believe me. Even with him being where he was, he didn’t give up his fight. The sad thing about it is he always fought with me… the wrong person. Even with us not together I supported him anyway that I could. I know now that he has always been fighting himself. That same attorney from a year ago showed up. This time he was withdrawing from his representation. This time he was made aware of who he was representing. It took my ex-husband to turn himself in for murder, for people to see it fit that I made the best decisions for our son. Yes, I am a single mother to a little black boy, whose father is currently incarcerated on a murder charge. The very person I fought so hard not to be. I went through an emotional rollercoaster after hearing the news. I have come to terms his incarceration is the gateway for our freedom. I don’t wish this on anyone but this happened for him to be still. All his life has been surrounded by distractions. Women, drugs, and fast money was a reality he created. God had to get him alone. I was angry that he left me with the fear of being all my son has. What happens to Micah if something happens to me? How could you leave me alone with so much responsibility? Not only do I have to heal but I have to teach my son to heal. You created a chapter in his blank pages that he will be angry and confused about. I will be responsible for teaching him to channel this into something positive. This year when I got our freedom papers, I realized I didn’t just fight for myself. I fought for every woman who didn’t make out of an abusive/toxic relationship alive. I did not understand the process but I was not taking NO for an answer. My son deserves to see the world.  I have lost everything in the process but I have never felt better. The cage is open for me to fly yet I still sit perched afraid to spread my wings. The same judge that told me NO was given a copy of my book. She fell into a role that she became numb to. A role in which she forgot how powerful she was. I never knew how strong I was until I became a mother. It probably is an eye-opening situation for my ex-husband because I used to fight for him. The fight I have for my son is supernatural. That judge tried to stick me in a box. I passed her my book and told her this is how I channeled my negative energy. It is important for her to understand that every woman has a story, and how she is affecting families and children with her decisions. This time last year I felt stuck because someone else was controlling my life. Now that I have severed that spiritual umbilical cord from his father the world can finally be our playground.

Love

Home away from home…

When you hear the word vacation…what automatically pops into your mind? Most people think of beaches, sand, drinks in hand, and good vibes. Financially most people don’t do this very often due to the lack of financial resources. Never taking the time to just be or recharge their batteries. Sometimes we just need to escape but all it takes is a shift in our perspective and an abundance of love from friends and family. I have found a home away from home. A place where I can escape my reality and be loved just for being me. I feel terrible at times because they can feel my energy. Anytime that I am off they know how to keep me balanced. Laughter is our medicine as we engage in “soulful laughs”. The type where your belly hurts from the impact of humor, and tears fall from the corners of our eyes from the “good pain” of our muscles contracting. A place where I am not judged, and comforted. A place where healing takes place. A place where I feel home away from home, and it’s not the physical house. It’s the people within it.

Love

My last set of bricks…

Yesterday I was reunited with a man of my past. I figured since we were in the same town, I would take the time to visit. We haven’t seen each other in almost eight years, and our last encounter ended in a confrontation. He wasn’t a fan of the man I had fell in love with. He warned me about him, but unfortunately I had to learn for myself. During our time apart, this man would always cross my mind, but never enough for me to feel compelled to pick up the phone. My ego and pride got the best of me, and this wasn’t our first go around. We had a few times where we would stop talking and I would be the one to initiate the reconciliation. I was told since I never carried his name, that this set the tone for our relationship. We both loved each other, but feared getting too close. Vulnerability was what he feared and never was taught, and I emulated his very behavior. He was my first love and was known for breaking many hearts, including mine. All because of him I believed in the power of change,  which was the main reason I stayed in my marriage. I waited for the last man, because she didn’t wait for you. I waited for the respect, loyalty, trust, and love. It never came.  He told me that he was the only man who ever loved me, and he lied.  I spent so much time searching for you when you never left. Why do we as a people fear telling those what we truly feel about them? Why do we wait until the day their body lays lifeless to share how much they meant to us? Intuitively, I knew it was time to face my fears. You were the last chapter for me to close and rewrite. As soon as we connected, it was like time had never passed. The pain of the past didn’t affect us in that present moment. Time stood still and the only emotions felt was love. All these years of wanting and wishing for a man to hold me still feeling unfulfilled, I now realized it was you. Yesterday I felt whole as the pieces to my puzzle had been found. I was given permission from you to become the woman I am meant to be. I wrote London’s Prints as a project to share with the world, and eventually I desired for it to become a residual income. I wanted it to become a bestseller and for me to become wealthy off of my seven-year project. Writing my truth was my therapy and was clarity for all of those involved. My ability to be transparent about my life and living in my truths made loved ones really consider their own. I lost focus on a project that was set to heal, and began to focus on the numbers and money. Instead, I finally have realized I am rich in so many other ways. My healing consisted of me focusing on the amount of time I was single. I would tell people the amount of time in the process which meant I was focusing on the wrong thing. I decided to allow my intuition to guide me to what I need on my personal journey. Yesterday I was hugged to the point that I was uncomfortable. A hug so tight that I could tell that was the last time you would let me go. It took me to let go of the man that wanted me all to himself to realize how much I had sacrificed for my relationship with him. You weren’t even invited to the wedding, nor was it the wedding you probably imagined for me. Yesterday, I could finally breathe as the last set of bricks had lifted off of me. I was reunited with my father after eight years of separation. Now this girl can really make progressive steps to becoming who she is meant to be. Nothing is holding me back, not even me.

Love

6

The Sixth Commandment a divine rule

The number six is very significant. In the Bible, it is the number of the “man”. The number of imperfection.

The number of my son’s current age, and the age of the man’s son who’s blood was shed by a man I once loved. Guilty…or not his presence was at the scene casted as a shadow when his light transitioned to darkness

Today the sixth day of February I was released from imprisonments. From the many crimes I have committed over the past 10 years. Lives have been taken. Many have died before they die. Judgement day is here on earth. everyday by the very people who throw stones at those who have sinned. Equals. I was an accomplice to the murder of my ex husband.  He died long before he played the role in the loss of another.

 

 

What if I told you that I was a murderer…

What if I told you I killed someone

one of the greatest sins ever known to man.

Thou shalt not kill

What would you think of me? Would everything I ever accomplished be taken away from me. Would my loved ones love me less? Would you judge me. Would you see me as beneath you as this is something you would never do.

We all have had thoughts of anger or rage that may have consisted of just a split second of malicious things we could do to someone who has caused us pain. Have you ever thought of taking your own life? What if I told you…you are just like me.

Maybe not physically

But the thought has crossed your mind.

We are all murderers to the first degree.

You have played a part in someone’s spiritual death.

Your words have pierced a soul of a loved one

Like a knife embedded into a crucial artery

Your words ringing through their mind like a gunshot to the brain

Relationships with humanity are like a game of Russian roulette

Many empty chambers…

And a connection that can mean life or death

One pull of the trigger your heart beating fast

Praying that god would spare your life and heart this time

The only thing is you control the gun and what you expose yourself to.

We invite murders into our lives knowing what they are capable of from the beginning

We see the red flags or traces of the blood of others on their hands

No amount of washing can erase the lives they have taken. Because it is the tongue that is the murder weapon. It is a silent killer. It can also produce life if used in the right way. So my question to you is…What is your body count?

Copy the link below to purchase a copy of the author’s current published memoir London’s Prints now available on Amazon and Barnesandnoble.com

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Londons-Prints-Kieona-L-R-Fairley/dp/1493720570

Barnes and Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/londons-prints-kieona-lr-fairley/1129500946

Love

Good morning beautiful…

Good morning beautiful…

The basic half ass endearing text that may attract most women

For me I need and want more

This text probably auto populated on your smart phone as it has been used for every new chick of interest

I’m sure Siri is aware of the rotation

I need and desire substance and depth

I need a man to cut beneath the forbidden fruit to find the sweetness that has been protected by a thick skin

A skin that has been a barrier for the many times I have fallen

How surface are you?

Do you fear getting to know me because you failed to seek the true you?

My beauty is beyond the physical

Tell me my soul is beautiful

That you love my kindness and empathy

That my independence and confidence sparks your interest

That my sensitivity and femininity reminds you of how a real woman should be

Recite something you seen me write

Create a nickname just for me, something we created from our first night

Peel through my layers and dig deeper then the beauty in the morning

You will be

Surprised to find how much I shine in the night.