verano 2019

What a short summer it has been.

I made the Dean’s list for the winter semester 2019 at the local community college.  What an amazing goal accomplished.  I’m still so far away from my collegiate dreams.

With losing my one job back in spring, due to single mom woes, I was struggling to find work again.

Until, a good friend proposed a new gig… I jumped aboard and “should have known better” (-Sufjan Stevens).

I am beyond grateful for the opportunity.  I learned some, was able to pay for a handful of living expenses, as well as move out into a bigger space.  However, things just didn’t work out.  So, I’m back at square one. Desperate for work. Scared shitless, to be quite frank.


It has now been three years since leaving my unhealthy 9 year relationship.  It has now been three years of true single motherhood.  No abusive partner to help me out when I just can’t.  What a rollercoaster of every emotion fathomable.  I’m not so tired today.  I am confident.  I believe in myself.  I know what I deserve.  Sure,  I want to cry my brains out… but not tonight.  Tonight is the eve before the first day of school.  My youngest, 4, is not looking forward to it.  My eldest, 7, is stoked as all get out.

I’m doin’ something right.


But, life is so weird.  And single motherhood can be so fucking lonely.

I had a nightmare last night.  My ex showed up, wanting me back.  Making promises to me, “I will be here for you, I will give you space to heal.”  We even had sex.  It was horrible. And as the tears stroll down my face as I type this,  I feel so nauseated at the thought of ever being that close to him again.

I remember him bearing witness to me healing.  He couldn’t stand it.  He wouldn’t support it.  Ultimately, I now know this is why we could not continue to be together.

To be the mother I am today, I would need to do some vigorous healing work.


Three years ago, I would jump on the first train of love.  I would continue to be distracted.  I would bounce around the ideas of healing, but continue to numb my pain through substances.

And then, my adoptive father killed himself.  I spiraled down after that. As if all the drama my ex continued to bring about wasn’t enough.


I still want to find a “Survivors of Suicide” group.  That shit is just something else.  No one can say anything to bring any bit of comfort.  The only thing that has happened is my sense of humor got darker.  Thanks Dad.


Feels good to write, I know, I’m all over the place.  Since moving, my home is in the same state of affairs.  I threw out a lot of furniture.  Unfortunately, still have everything those pieces held.

A few more weeks of “summer” left, I suppose.

Kayaked yesterday. Lovely. Love being in the water and in nature.  Nothing can replace it…

until next time, friends.



What a long, strange winter it’s been.  Somehow, it’s near the end and I’ve made it through.  Barely, it feels like.  Barely.

I added another therapist to my team.  She a transracial and transnational adoptee!  Stay the course, have faith, be hopeful and good things may come your way…

Dreamworld has been pretty nuts as of late.  I also am attending college again. Busy, busy, busy.




A little over three months since I’ve last wrote.

And I hate to admit this, I really hate it and I hate using the word hate, but I haven’t written much on paper in the last three or four months, either.

I’ve been busy. Real busy.

Have you seen the latest thing on “busy”? We all just say we’re “busy” to get out of things, conversations, social interactions in real life. Bizarre, but true.  I have been busy.  Busy trying to make money.  Busy raising two kids on my own.  Busy renting my own space to live with said children.  Busy meeting people and making connections.  Busy healing. Busy trying to attain stillness.  It’s a wild world out here! You know! You’re not alone – I am here with you.  And to be honest, I’m quite lazy. And lately, very depressed.


So, autumn is ending.  And quickly – the days continue to get darker earlier, solstice is almost here and the good ol’ holidaze.

At the end of August, just days after my last post, I relapsed.  I drank two nights in a row.  The second night, completely blacking out.
During the month of September,  life really took a turn and got shook up.  In October, I had reached my breaking point and by November I was in therapy every week and continue to see my therapist regularly.  Today is 102 days sober.  I’m doin’ it, y’all ! I’m living sober, and clean! And damn, does it feel GOOD to be a gangsta!

SO GOOD! So clean and open and vulnerable that I’m finally here to move forward with my healing.  A main reason, as mentioned in another post, I started therapy was my identity (crisis?)- that is, my adoption.  I gotta say, my therapist is good! She knows me quite well now… the only disadvantage is that she isn’t an adoptee.  However, she has helped and continues to help me tremendously.

Healing adoption trauma is not for the weak.  It isn’t easy by any means.  It requires your full attention and I truly think the only way to really get through it, and I mean REALLY walk out on the other side is through immense awareness.


You may not know this, but my blog subtitle used to read “Ramblings of a shawombyn…”

You know what kind of people I REALLY love? The people who are sober for reasons like, “ALCOHOL IS JUST ANOTHER CRIME ON HUMANITY. ALCOHOL IS BIG BUSINESS AND THRIVES ON YOUR UNWILLINGNESS TO COPE AND BE EMPOWERED!” Those are my people. (It’s fuckin true.  Wake up, it’s about to be Two-Thousand Nineteen.  We need one another.) *also tho, no judgement. You do you boo, but I’ll be over here*

Peace on Earth~
& So It Is.



Five months since I last wrote…


The color red and the number five have spoken so much to me this year (2018).

Roots. I found em, y’all. Kinda.

I emailed back and forth with the woman who birthed me. I visited the capital of my country.  I hope to hear from her again. And I look forward to the day I own land back home.


I thought I had suffered and cried so much in the past – but nothing like December-July.

NOPE. Only as of late have I truly let most of my shit go. Almost there – almost 🙂


7 months… what has happened in 7 months?

What hasn’t happened?

Release, Release, Release, Release, and Release, one more time.  This thing is constant, accept the gift!

So much drama outside of my home.  All that matters is how I live my life.

And I’ve been trying.  So hard, I have been.   Against every fucking odd, I’m here.  Stronger and more empowered than ever.  You may think, damn, confident much?  If only I could say I was there yet.  Ya know that saying, “fake it ’til you make it”?  I’m trying that one out, mostly.

Let me back up a tiny bit.

I began seeing a therapist in December.  I needed to do this for months, but the right swift kick in the ass from my infamous sister helped me just fucking do it.  Looking back, there were two things that I guess you could say co-mingled.  My ‘divorce’ and my identity.  I was with my children’s father for nine years before we permanently split.  We began dating when I was 17 years old.  By the time I was 21, I had my first child.  Three years later, I would have my second.  And there it all was.

Those formative years… blindly seeking love.

It’s only now do I know why.

It’s sad.  It’s very sad.

(this is all coming to me now)

I would do anything to just have some type of permanent love/home.  Security.  Safety.

I caught a dudes eye and I his, the rest is history.  Your vibe attracts your tribe.

Now I see how we fell in love.  He had a huge hole in his heart, too.  Just hoping to fill it with someone who could.  Us hole hearts, we have so much capacity for compassion.

But it all gets to be so much.  So we find ways to escape it all.  The list is endless of things that help numb us.

Since the time I was thirteen, I have been escaping my truth.  My fears, my anxieties, my reality.  Smoking, sex, and alcohol.


The pure, innocent, D.A.R.E. award winner in fifth grade.

I guess you just wet your feet at first… but then you feel the effects.

You feel different.

And wow, another Aha! moment… that’s scary.  That’s really fucking scary.

You’re thirteen!

this hurts too much.

to be continued.


It’s happening.

I quit my day job.

I’m venturing out into my own business.

I am so fucking excited.  I am beyond ready.  But lets be honest, not really.  Only kinda.

I’m getting there, slowly but surely.  And like I always say, slow and steady wins the race.

I’ll be making my appearance in Detroit in September, just days away!  So much work to do.

We experienced the Solar Eclipse on Mooooooonday.  Whooooo boy.  What a day.  What a week.  What a month.  WHAT A YEAR!

Almost 2 months ago I wrote that these next few months look like they’ll be bright and difficult.  But my mind has shifted hard these passed two months.  So much has happened.  I have my own home!  My Saturn return has officially begun.  Change is becoming my best ally, finally.  And I’m beginning to shine again.   Damn has it been awhile.  I spent most of my year mourning and those days are coming to an end.  I am so grateful for all the losses I’ve experienced.  They each have brought a lot of things to light.

For example, I had no idea the abuse I was enduring for so long.  It started mentally/emotionally (right in the beginning of our nine year cycle – fucking peculiar).  And although there were only a few physical disturbances in the first 8 years, the last year made it all too real.  I was literally stepped on and my back ached for months.  It wasn’t until 2 weeks later though, that my partner took all of our belongings and placed them into huge piles in the middle of our apartment.  I remember him texting me saying that the environment wasn’t a safe place for our baby.  I remember walking into our home that night, thankfully I knew better than to enter by myself.  My best friend was there with us.  My dearest angel, my mother.  I had two choices… clean the mess up or take it with me.  I chose the latter and have looked back a lot.  That night I emptied out our apartment in a matter of hours with the help of my family and friends.  That night I stayed the night with my sister and my dad let us crash there until he ended up kickin’ my ass out.  haha oh dad… I love you dude.  Thank you for that month and a half we spent living together.  Izzy hated it.  I hated it.  I can’t recall how Benji thought of it… but it’s nuts to think your body died just months later.  I’m really sorry I wasn’t there for you like I could have been.  You were a damn wreck though.  Fuck.  I don’t know what else to say, other than I love you.  Am I’m sorry.  Please forgive me.  Thank you.


jeez, this post took a turn.  it’s time I let it all out.

You create a life with someone, ya know?  And then y’all create two lives together… and it feels as if it’s all meant to be.  I used to dream that we would die asleep together, old and gray… I’m happy to know that dream has faded away and doesn’t cross my mind anymore.

In fact, death has never been closer. In the sense that there is no beginning or end.  Death is just rebirth.  So much relearning happening. Beyond grateful.

The years of mental and emotional abuse catch up after awhile. So hard, your body ends up physically hurt.   For years my heart ached. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve felt my heart over this relationship.   All the time I knew it wasn’t right… but I needed it all to be here now.

Mom life.  Do you have any idea? Maybe, but every child is different…  as much as my son is as great as my daughter, they are so damn different.  Testosterone is REAL.  I had no idea til this li’l man entered my life.

It’s hard, and I will be the first to say IT TAKES A VILLAGE!  My tribe is humongous.  I am so blessed.   I can only hope others are as blessed as I am.  Honestly.

I’m going to end here–

Thank YOU for reading this.  And thank you to every one of you who has crossed paths with me.

juli love


Greetings earthlings. My apologies for not writing here in over 7 months…

I’ve been in and out, really.  In my mind, out of my mind. In my body, out of my body. Trying and learning what works and what doesn’t.  It’s been a rough 7 months and the next seven don’t look much easier, but definitely more brighter. 

The love I spoke of in November was so true & I am beyond grateful for that man.  He saw me for who I was.  I wasn’t aware at the time a man could even see me, considering the father of my children didn’t. 

But he did… and although we were at different stages of our lives, it was perfect timing.  He did everything he could have, it was a dream.  Unfortunately I was way too broken to fully express all the love he deserved back.  I went back and forth and god bless his soul, he was still there for me. 

I’ll never forget the last time we kissed.  He was going to shoot this beautiful, mythical woman.  I knew immediately they would fall in love. I told a friend she’d be living there within 3 months. She moved in 4 months later.  As a photographer, I asked her to help me with a project I was submitting to and she gladly helped me. Just another full circle situation that has happened this year. 

Wetiko. You are truly a beautiful soul. I still can’t believe how we met… but damn am I grateful. I couldn’t have made it out of everything alive if it weren’t for you, truly. 

And I guess that brings me to the latest development…


Stay tuned folks~

Namasté 💓


I just want to know who my ancestors are… 

What kind of people am I? 

Where in the forest do I reign from?

When did you decide I couldn’t stay?

Why must this be such a damn secret?
Somebody, anybody…



I can’t sleep and it’s been two months since I’ve wrote.

We moved again, this shall be more permanent. I originally planned to find my own place in March as that is when my former lease is up and I assume I could sign on another lease. However, it’s already mid November and I feel March creeping up on me.

What a year it’s been. Laying in bed with my two children, in awe of their existence… thinking about our lives.

A year ago, little did I know what we would endure the coming months. The suffering… that’s the best word for it.

For whatever reason, I try to reason with suffering. I seek to understand fucked up things. I suppose I seek to understand other things, like Life… but then again life can be pretty fucked up so you tell me.  I’m sure it stems from my beginning.

Anywhooooo- I guess this is all starting to make sense. The whole, my family falling apart thing. It really isn’t. I just lost my partner and my children lost their dad. Time will tell on the latter, I suppose. But my breath is no longer holding onto the past and what could be. I must learn, remember, and accept. Trust. HA. Trust…

I remember my heart telling me to leave my ex. If I did then everything would change and become better.  Oh maybe I could back up for a minute.  I was getting pretty damn deep into my spirituality.  There was a period that I was reading the Bible every single day. My then 8 month old baby was beginning to get sick. Then their father got sick and it finally hit my 3 1/2 year old.  Long story short the doctors didn’t know what the hell was wrong until two months later. By this time baby boy was pretty much healed as well as my sweet daughter.  I will never truly know what happened with my son, but my daughter survived and beat bilateral pneumonias ass!  I was a fucking zombie. Their dad was in his own world and we were in ours.  Mind you, we had been back together for two months when this all began. And looking back, it was a total trial  for our relationship that we once again failed at.

I want to cry thinking about last winter but I can’t. I spent so much time suffering last winter I refuse to any more.  What I’m beginning to learn is that suffering is somewhat by choice.  No, my children didn’t choose to get extremely ill… but I did choose to let their father back into our lives after he chose his own life rather than ours.

I strongly believe physical ailments are related to the mind and spirit.  I will never fail these children again.  I was so afraid. Hell, I still am. The only reason I’m writing this is because I’m awake. I’m awake because a new beginning is in full force and I cannot rest.  I wept on the old ending… I loved so much.

A new life is beginning. The one with me and mine. I’m scared. I’d be a total liar if I said I wasn’t. There’s a lot of fear here. If I’ve learned anything in the past few years about fear it’s that it’s false evidence appearing real. Haha ok, more like that it must be conquered (by Love).

Love is the source of all things. Therefore it is the most powerful. At the end of this day I lay in bed with my young.  These two beings that grew inside of me and are their own people.  These little humans that, looking back, were made out of love. I loved that dude so fucking hard… But deep, deep in my heart I knew all along.  These little humans are so damn special.  They’re actually helping me reach my highest potential. Who knew? Not I. Not until now…

And there I’ll end. That’s a happy note.

P.S. I’m pretty sure I’m in love again.


I attended a viewing today. My mothers brothers wife’s mom passed last week. I saw a few family members that have known me since I entered my family 25 years ago. Family I see a few times a year.

One of my cousins great aunts and I finally had a chance to chat as we were walking out.  I responded in a way to her question that she had no other option but to stop and look at me. “Yeah, yeah?  What’s going on?” I explained briefly.  She told me how she got divorced and moved back to Michigan to live with Gloria (who passed) with three children in the 70s from California.

I want to say I can do this, but the truth is I am doing this. Somehow, someway.  Mostly day by day.

Another relative who I knew well related to me in such a way I feel many don’t. The whole not having my own space…! Which is super comforting. I’ve been on my own since I was 19.  I haven’t cooked consistently for over a month now. I feel like I’m dying.


Anyways; to be honest. I have been to many, many funerals. Today was the first time I didn’t go up to see the body.  It was relieving.  I looked from afar, but even that was weird.  I think I can confidently say dead bodies are just weird. That’s not who we truly are. I think all the photo memories are great, but to lay their dead human body there for people to look at, talk to, kiss…Yes I have witnessed people kiss dead bodies at funerals; it’s just too much for me.  I understand the importance of funerals and respect them, but hearing someone say “I just don’t want her to leave” is so sad. In many ways.

This woman was ninety-three. She had lived a very beautiful, full, happy life.  Yes, loss sucks. But what sucks more is when we selfishly just want to hold onto the suffering for the sake of ourselves.

A few years ago I witnessed this similar situation but with my own mother and grandmother.

Im ranting it’s early, but do y’all know that  people just die off on morphine?  That seems crazy to me! Three of my own family members passed on morphine.  Can you say creepy?

It’s now passed five in the morning, the most perfect time.  Until next time, friends~

be well,