Self Published.

I recently self-published a book called, “Heart First, Head Later.”

Writing the book was a self-evolving process. I allowed myself to reminisce about my past and the experiences that broke me and helped me grow.

Writing is therapeutic for me and I’m sure many others. As a writer, I can only hope that what I am putting into the universe is acknowledged and appreciated.

When I first began the book it was not going to be based solely on my experiences but those of the women who I find myself learning from. I quickly realized that in order for me to express what other women have taught me, I first had to appreciate what I have taught myself.

“Heart First, Head Later” is my story, through poems and storytelling I allow you a glimpse into who I was and how I became the strong-minded, independent women I am today. This is the scariest thing I’ve ever done. I had a baby at 15 and compared to this, that was a piece of cake.

It is the scariest thing imaginable to put yourself out there for the world to see. To express your truths knowing not only people who do not know you will read it but also people who do know you. I am afraid of being judged for the mistakes I made in my youth, but I am willing to be judged if it will allow a woman or girl who feels like she is in it alone, know that she is not. No women should ever feel as though she is the only one. We have all done things and made mistakes. We are human and in that we are imperfect. In that imperfection lies a beauty that only real people can appreciate.

My boyfriend got a kick out of the title, “Head later”, he laughed. That was not my intent in the title, as he will come to see when he reads it. However, once he reads it he will see how it also ironically makes sense in that way as well. Eeek, it makes me nervous that he will read it but he loves me. Me, he loves me. I wouldn’t be me if not for all the lessons life taught me.

Heres to putting yourself out there and taking chances!! Follow your dreams and jump in Heart first, Head later! 😉

 

 

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In my past…

Ladies and Gents, the Preface to my soon to be released book, “Heart First, Head Later”

Preface

In my past, I was quick to run, run my mouth, run up my credit cards, run my car into your car… You know, that kind of shit. I have learned that things are made worse with overreacting and that words cannot be erased, whether they are spoken or written. I have embarrassed myself and made mistakes that cannot be taken back. I have made my life and others lives more complicated than they needed to be. I have been selfish, unkind and ugly. I am now a more mature version of who I used to be but she, she still lives deep inside me. She, the girl who became the woman I am today. She sleeps calmly, peacefully dreaming of the antics she once created and the drama she devoured. Reminiscing on the way she lived like no one was watching and as if only she mattered. I keep her happy, letting her come out to play every once in a while. Letting her scream and cry, letting her yell and flip off drivers who piss me off. She gets out every now and then and I have to remind her that I got this and I am in control. She who used to be me, she lives deep inside me… waiting in slumber in case she is ever needed again.

Heart First, Head Later

5 ways to strengthen the bond with your teenage daughter.

 

My daughter and I have a unique relationship, 15, that’s the number of years that divide us.  We have definitely grown in our relationship as mother and daughter and while being a teen mom was difficult, being a mom to a teen seems to be much more challenging. Over the years I have realized that there are plenty of things that keep our relationship solid. I am going to share 5 of them with you.

 

  1. Honesty – I know, we aren’t supposed to overshare with our teens but I have to come to realize over time that the more honest I am with her the more she gets it. And by it, I mean everything in general. Why can’t we upgrade our phones? Because I don’t have the funds to make that happen right now. She understands were not in financial crisis but that right now is not the time for that. Why am I cranky? Because I’m on my period and I just don’t have the patience right now. She gets it and respects it.
  2. Don’t Sugarcoat things – I don’t go out of my way to soften the blow in regards to life and reality. Too harsh? No, her teacher’s aren’t sugar-coating anything for them as they shouldn’t and life is surely not going to do it for her. She has a thick skin and it takes a lot to break her. I am the type of mom that tells her how it is. Why can’t she borrow my shirt? Because her boobs are bigger than mine and she’ll stretch it out. It’s not giving her a complex when I sit down and explain the reality of it. We’re not all shaped the same. Why can’t we get fast food? Maybe because we’ve overdone it this last week and we need a break. Again, it’s not about giving her a complex, it’s about letting her know that her body is and will react to the fast food influx.
  3. Understand her – They live in a different time. If we’d had the power to face time at our age…God only knows. All the questions and curiosity they have can be answered by the phone they can’t live without. Remember that your situation as a kid might differ from hers. For example; I grew up having both my parents and 2 siblings. My daughter has only ever lived with me, had an absent father most of her life and no siblings. Things are not the same and if I take the time to remember and understand that it makes for a more productive argument, no such thing? I beg to differ.
  4. Drink coffee together (or eat together) – We’re coffee drinkers in my house so my kid and I regularly have coffee dates. It’s come to the point where she will invite me for coffee. We sip our coffee and talk about school and the future. She’ll tell me her concerns and her ideas and I’ll tell her what I think, honestly and without sugar-coating things. She takes the compliments and the constructive criticism for what they are. And yeah, sometimes she doesn’t like what I have to say and she reacts but she is a teen. She’s learning and growing.
  5. Workout together – Sweat it out together. One of the healthiest things we do together is working out. There are nights we go for a walk, and while she has one headphone in she still talks my ear off. Which is ultimately the goal. There are times where we workout together and we both have our headphones on and we’re zoned out but we’re still together. That being the point.

 

These work for me and her, they might differ for you and yours and that’s ok. The point is to spend time with your teen and be real. My daughter knows I am not perfect, I don’t pretend to be. She knows her mother is a real woman who is flawed and equally beautiful in those flaws, as is she and all women. What fun things do you do with your teen?

This is America.

My family and I have been dealing with a case of itchiness. We’re not sure what’s going on but 3 weeks ago I broke out into hives. I went to urgent care because it is impossible to get in to see my doctor in a reasonable amount of time. I was told there that it was not scabies but they couldn’t tell me what it was. I was given a prescription and sent on my way. The medication I received worked miracles, my rash was gone in a matter of minutes, but the itch sensation has remained.

My daughter and my boyfriend are also itchy. After consulting Dr. Google my boyfriend, who you should know is a total germaphobe, decided that we have scabies. So off we all go to urgent care, a different urgent care than the one I went to by myself.

Of course, this urgent care does not accept my daughter and me’s insurance so they refer us to one that does just right down the street.  I wish I would have just paid the $125 fee to be seen there and saved myself the aggravation.

It was about 6:45 when we walked in, they close at 8, we were not greeted with a smile or concern, we got a dry ass “Hello”, I replied with “Hi, my daughter and I both need to be seen.”

“Well, we have over an hour wait.”

Ok, so that comment alone might not mean much except exactly what it states but her tone was outta control. I work customer service so I know how much it sucks when someone walks in 10 min to closing, I was ready to give her the benefit of the doubt, even though they didn’t close for over an hour.

“That’s fine.” I smiled in reply.

“Ok, I need your IDs.” still dry.

“I have my ID but she doesn’t have one.” I point to my daughter.

“Oh, then I can’t help you.” She quickly dismissed us.

“She’s a minor, so she doesn’t have one,” I reply

“Oh, ok we can just use yours.”

“I don’t have the physical medical ID cards but..”

She was quick to cut me off, “Oh, well we need those.”

“Yeah, I have them in the app.”

“No, no, that won’t work we need the ID numbers.”

“Yes, the ID cards are in the app.” I start to get annoyed and I’m sure my face reflected it.

“Ok, email them here.” she hands me a paper with an email on it.

As I’m emailing her the ID cards two white women walk in and this is what I hear from the dry, unhappy receptionist.

“Hello Ladies, how can we help you today?”

I turn to see the two white women standing behind us.

“Yes, of course, we will be right with you ladies.”

I was livid. Why didn’t they get a weak ass greeting? Why weren’t they told that it was over an hour wait?

My name and my daughter’s names were placed on the waiting list on the TV where you can see how many people are ahead of you. The white woman’s name was placed behind ours. When my name was at the top of the list, meaning I was next, the white woman was called back. I was pissed but then they brought her back out, she had gone back for x-rays and then brought back out, ok that’s fine. We waited and were now the only people in the waiting room. They opened the door and guess who they called back, not us!! We sat there and waited. I sat there going over the whole encounter in my head.

Was this really happening?

By the time they called us back, they asked if we wouldn’t mind being seen together, I agreed.

They did the intake and it was maybe 8:15, this white doctor comes in and says, “I understand you’re both dealing with itchy skin.”

We nod.

“Ok, well I’ve seen about 14 to 15 people in the last couple hours, you being 14 and her 15,” he points to my daughter. “I’m not a dermatologist so there isn’t much I can do except refer you to one.”

At this point my boyfriend has been prescribed 4 different medications in an attempt to cure the itch, he was told it was not scabies.

The doctor we were seeing didn’t even attempt to examine our skin until I said, “My boyfriend was seen down the street, told it was not scabies and prescribed 4 different medications, including an anti-fungal pill just in case.”

He mumbled something and then checked my back, “This is because you’ve been scratching.” He didn’t even check my daughter.

He mentioned that two of his nurses had to leave at 8 and that he had dinner plans that would not be interrupted.

“I’ll prescribe you something for the itch.”

He left only to return and then check my daughter, just the skin he could see, she was in a tank top.

He told me that if my boyfriend’s medication helped that I could call in and ask for him, he would then prescribe the same medication for us.

I mean, what the fuck was that about?

Did all that really just go down like that?

Ummm, was it because we’re Mexican and not white?

I mean, we’re American, born and raised in the United States so why, why the harsh treatment and quick dismissal. The judgment and dismissal weren’t just by one person in this facility.

A clip from clueless playing in my mind, “This is America.”

The part of the movie where they tell her they have coke available as an option for lunch. I’m a 90s kid so of course as I’m thinking about America and being an American, that pops into my head.

I was so livid when we left that, of course, I argued with my man, it wasn’t his fault but I took it out on him. I told him what happened and he didn’t believe me until I yelped the place. That was wrong and it made me feel so small. No one deserves that kind of treatment, no one!

Have you experienced anything similar? Share with me!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Positivity?

I try to be a positive person but I’m real.

I have been working on myself, my finances and my health.

2018 will be my year, I’m speaking (writing) it into existence right here, right now.

I have been working on a passion project that will hopefully inspire women and be something they can relate to. A book of truths and poetry, I have just completed my 100th draft, not really but it feels that way. I think I’m changing the title, again. This one will stick, it kind of created itself from the work.  I’m doing all this while working a full-time job, property management, its how I pay the bills, for now. (fingers crossed.)

While doing me, I am also attempting to live life with my significant other. We’re saving money to buy a house, get married, have some babies, you know real adult type stuff.

As I mentioned before I’m a property manager by day and one of the perks is that I don’t pay rent.

I know, hate me, it’s awesome.

You’re probably thinking that I’m close to achieving my financial goals, the short answer is …

Fuck no!

I hate to admit it but I’m so broke. Don’t get me wrong my bills are paid and the fridge is stocked but I do not have the financial freedom I should. I kick myself in the ass whenever I do the math, I’ve been a property manager with the same company for 9 years. 😦

I have taken steps to produce more income, one of my favorites is selling stuff on apps like Poshmark. They’re not paying me to tell you about them but if they’d like to, I’m open to it!  🙂

In all seriousness, a super easy app to manage and so safe. No meeting up with people just ship the item(s) off. Buyer pays shipping and Poshmark takes a small fee, check it out if you have clothing, shoes or accessories you no longer use.

I’ve also had to cut my daily Starbucks trip, that in itself leaves me with extra money.

Trust me when I say I’ve beaten myself up over the situation I put myself in.

I tell myself that I need to take things one day at a time.

I cannot stress over what I cannot change.

So much easier said then done but I will achieve my goals and I will get financially healthy!!

Any tips? What are your motivations for making 2018 your best year yet?

Stay home with me.

On occasion, I allow my daughter to stay home from school because I miss her.

Time goes by way too fast. It doesn’t feel like it was that long ago that my baby was learning to walk.

I see her day in and day out but I don’t always SEE her.

She told me one time,

“Just because you’re here with me doesn’t mean you’re spending time with me.”

Words of wisdom from my mini-me.

She never hesitated to tell me how it was, occasionally hurting my feelings. Long gone are the days of Barbie’s and Cheetah Girls.

“I’m ready,” she says as she walks into my room early in the morning.

“Stay home with me.” I’ll mumble.

She quickly climbs on the bed with me. Sometimes we lay on the bed and just talk, other times we fall asleep together until mid-afternoon, waking up together, going for coffee together.

Occasionally I need her, to see her and be with her.

2 am

It’s 2 am and his name flashes across my cell phone

A fluster fills within me

2 am and I’m answering his phone call

2 am and I’m ready to be picked up

From any where, regardless of who I’m with

Let’s finish what we started

Pick up where we left off

Friends first, lovers second

Be kind to me

Respect me

Don’t lie

Put me first

Don’t make love to me but don’t fuck me

I mean more to you than that

What should I call you, in what term do I refer to you

Friend

Lover

Let’s not define this, this situation that we share

No strings

No attachments

Yet somehow the bond gets stronger

The late nights turn into early mornings and Sunday afternoons

Hand holding

Dependability

This isn’t a relationship

This isn’t love

Did you fall in love with me?

“I can’t do this anymore”

Him

“I can’t do this anymore.” She whispered to me.

It was in her eyes, the difference defined in the caramel color, this time would not end like the last.

I felt angry, I stood there brooding, contemplating what I should say.

How am I going to keep this from escalating?

She stood in front of me now, her 5’5 frame finding itself in my bubble. I wanted to grab her and throw her back on the bed but her breakdown right in the middle of sex made it clear that would not work this time. She reached for me and I pushed her hands away.

If I can’t touch her, she can’t touch me.

She’s angry now, maybe her anger will overpower her sentiment and we can make it out of this in one piece.  All I need is for her to fight with me, a heated argument will lead to some heated sex. I followed her out of the bedroom and into the living room; the living room was dark, only a streak of light from a half-opened blind.

She reached for her t-shirt and pulled it over herself, I watched as the shirt grazed her nipples, they reacted and now there she stood in the glow of the dim light, perfect, nipples at full salute.

When did she slip on her panties?

I hadn’t even realized they were on her body. She stuffed her bra in her purse and I couldn’t help but smile to myself. She never cared much for bras, her small breast a compliment to her frame, they sat perfectly, not large, not small, just enough.

I walked over and grabbed her, enough, the jeans were going on and she might really leave, enough.

“Don’t do this.” I wrapped her up in my arms and she did not fight me,”Don’t end this.”

It’s what she needed to hear, it’s what I needed to say. I meant it, I didn’t want her to walk away, to throw away all the time and effort we had put forth, I had sacrificed in ways she could not comprehend. She wasn’t going to throw it all away.

We were swallowed up by darkness, how I loved to be in the darkness with this woman.

She reached her hands up and cradled my face, “This was done a long time ago.” She moved away from me, escaping my grasp. I wanted to reach for her but we’d danced this dance before. My eyes filled with tears as she slipped on her jeans and then her shoes. My anger getting the best of me, I glared at her as she stood in front of my door.

The tears flowed freely down her cheeks.

As she turned and reached for the doorknob I yelled out, “Jordan!” she didn’t turn, “If you leave, if you walk out, don’t you look for me again.” My tone angrier than expected. I hadn’t realized until just that moment that she might truly be done.

I saw the hesitation in her step,  allowing me a glimmer of hope. I willed her to turn around, to turn around and allow me to pick her up, to carry her back to the room, or the sofa, or the kitchen if that’s what she wanted.

She opened the door and without looking back she shut the door behind her.

She was gone and I was left standing there, all alone in the dark.

 

 

Mistake.

I’m a true believer in things happening for a reason but sometimes, sometimes, things don’t need to happen and situations should be avoided. With that being said, tell me, how do you get rid of someone you no longer want contact with? I’ve stalked a boy before, if we’re being honest I’ve stalked a couple boys. One was much nicer about it than the other but point is, WOW. I had no idea how uncomfortable and scary it was for the stalkee.

I made the mistake of giving my time to a man who was not worthy. He seemed to think that meant we were going to fall in love or something. I’m not trying to be mean, just real. Women are notorious for not accepting things as they are, we know, we know, we tend to go a bit overboard BUT that’s because men lie. They lie!

A lie, is a lie, is a lie.

I’ve said it a million times, when a woman gets a little cray it’s because we have been lied to about the reality of our situation. What excuse does a man have for not accepting the reality of his? Maybe I should have been firm from the jump but even us women don’t want to hurt feelings or break hearts. I had no choice but to be a bitch. You cannot text someone, Good Morning, Good afternoon and Good night. Especially when you have not received a reply to those texts.

Mistake.

I had no intention of loving him.

I would simply use him to forget my woes.

In the harshest light of truth, I saw him for what he was.

Weak.

Nothing about him enticed me, nothing attracted me.

In an attempt to remove myself from the situation I ended up drawing him further in.

I wasn’t playing hard to get.

I didn’t want him to work for it.

I simply wanted to be rid of him.

Mistake.

Many of us make them.

I was bombarded with text and unwanted visits.

Mistakes that turn into awkward situations.

Stalk me, don’t you dare.

How to be rid of an unwanted man?

Tell him, he won’t hear it.

Can’t see it and won’t respect it.

I had no intention of loving him, no intention of keeping him

He wanted to be kept and I couldn’t escape.

How does one undo what she has done?