Author Archives: boricuagoddess79

About boricuagoddess79

A celebration of life, friends and adventures. I'm challenging myself to do a bunch of new things to get me out of my comfort zone and just honor life, i also am a single mom so theres a whole lot of adventure there!

The Aftermath


After losing nearly 100 lbs ive developed the opposite of what people may think would happen. Insecurity and body dismorphic issues. Which is at times overwhelming and drowns out rational thinking. I was looking through photos last night and found a face picture that for the first time really let me see how far ive come. Because, you see, I dont see the current day me. I see the old me. The one who I have been for the better part of my adulthood. This was the face that was with me when I became a mother, when I was at my lowest, my highest, when I got my first grown up job, bought my first house became fiercely independent. I made soul mate friends with this face. This was the face in front of the heart that said “You’re beautiful. Size does not define you” I drank up all the body positive kool aid and celebrated my curves. I was wearing a two piece at the pool at 294 lbs and dared anyone to have an issue with it. I didn’t care about fat arms or cellulite. Didn’t care about scars. I ran races, I did mud runs. I offered no apologies for my space in this world and I was there to back up my bad assness if need be. I would slap on bright red lipstick and had no issue bringing attention to myself. No one was ever terribly unkind.

And then I made the decision to have my surgery. Mainly because it was hard to breathe going up the stairs. I was knocking at the door of 300 with no slowing down in sight. I was out of control, had a heightened sense of self worth and was literally headed towards health issues at 120 mph. I was embarrassed that I needed to get surgery but decided ultimately it had to be done.

And the pounds started to come off slowly. 1 pound a week on average. Which doesn’t sound like much, but it adds up eventually. People would comment on me losing weight and I would roll my eyes, thinking “guys 10 lbs isn’t going to make that much of a physical impact when I have 150 to lose total”. What no one prepared me for was the paranoia that I would feel thinking people were watching me, judging what I put in my mouth, wondering why I was losing so slowly. So I became concious of every bite. I felt shameful when I would eat. I thought that people would think that I was going to fail and that silently they were judging me. I had never had those thoughts before.

As the pounds eventually added up to a significant amount – around 50 lbs people started to be very vocal about my body. Positively but very vocal. They congratulated me and encouraged me. But with every positive word I became even more insecure. At around 75 lbs loss, I went to my reunion, one that I helped organize with love and was really excited for. I tried on dress after dress, nothing was right. Suddenly I realized that I had excess skin on my arms that would have to be removed surgically. And that my breasts weren’t as full or my stomach. And I remember standing in the mirror changing my dress and feeling like a failure. I went down to the reunion and people were just amazing and we all looked great and people mentioned my confidence and congratulated me on the loss. With every compliment came the toothy pageant smile and thank you. On the outside I was gracious and appreciative on the inside I felt like it was overwhelming.

Then came 100 lbs. This I was excited for. I had finally arrived at a major milestone. I fit into smaller clothes. This was where i felt the most proud. It was bitter sweet, the fat had melted off, I decided that I only needed to lose another 27 lbs not 50 and for the most part looked great under clothing. I knew I would have to save up for skin removal surgery eventually. But that was ok, because I could just tell people “but I lost 100 lbs!” And they would be understanding and I wouldn’t have to apologize for the batwings. Which is insane, because I never felt like I needed to explain myself before. But now I felt like I had an asterisk by my name that gave you an explanation as to why I was where i was. And the truth is no one really cares. People aren’t that awful in real life. This was a battle I was fighting within myself.

The 100 lbs was short lived, as you all know I got really sick and had to have the band removed because of slippage. I was admitted into the ER for emergency surgery as my body began to shut down. I made the decision to not have it fixed because the whole ordeal had been so traumatic that I was scared for my life. Besides I only had 27 lbs to go to goal, I could surely do that without the band.

That was 2 months ago. Since then I have gained 25 lbs. I hadn’t eaten in 10 days when I was in the hospital because of complications, so I knew when I started eating again that I would gain some back. That my body would hold on to it because it was starved for almost 2 weeks.

My new pants and dress that I was so proud of fitting into, doesn’t fit anymore. But that’s ok, I would change the way i eat and work out. Eventually I will find my way back right?

No one really noticed the 25 lbs. People still compliment me but I started to feel really insecure. I started to feel like a failure. Again, I felt like I needed to explain that ive lost 100, but gained 25 because of surgery and that I was working on it. I felt that asterisk by my name come back except this time I added an apology for failing.

I have become incredibly insecure in the past few months. Depression has set in. I’m back in the same cycle I fought so hard to get out of. I joined weight watchers, I’m taking pills, I joined the gym. But I can’t make it to the gym because I’m overwhelmed and insecure and those people there don’t know that I had lost so much, they just see me know and I have so much work to do.

I’m wearing long sleeves. I’m sad about summer coming (my favorite season) because of the excess skin and I can’t afford to have it fixed because I’m still paying for the original surgery, plus the emergency surgery (my insurance didn’t cover any of it) and I feel like if I step out in this body and people see the excess skin, that they will think “I’d rather stay fat than have that skin”

I’ve started to walk with my head down in the grocery store ive lost motivation to do things. I don’t want to meet new people because I don’t want to have to apologize for my existence. When I look in the mirror I see the before picture not the real one. My best friends talked me into getting a haircut recently and I kept saying how I didn’t want to go short because I had a really round face. They tried to show me that it wasn’t the case. I sat in the stylists chair and explained that I wanted it short but I was insecure about my big cheeks and she lovingly pointed out my face shape and cheekbones and tried to explain to me that what I saw wasn’t what she saw. So I chopped it off. And I felt great and I felt powerful and I sashayed out of that salon like a powerful goddess.

The next morning I woke up, as I was getting ready for work I became overwhelmed. I was trying to style my hair and realized people would be looking at me because it was so dramatic. My hair was past my shoulder blades and now it was in a cute lob right at my jawline. And so I started to think about the attention it would bring and suddenly my clothes weren’t right. So I changed. And that wasn’t right. So I changed again. I changed so many times that there was a giant pile of clothes all over my bedroom. I was late for work, I had to get my kid to school and I was having an epic teenage level threat con alpha meltdown that all my clothes didn’t fit right, they looked old, I looked old, and my skin looks like it’s melting and fuck, nothing in my life is ever going to be right again. Eventually I pulled myself together and made it to work. I mentioned to my friends my fit and they were supportive and said we would go buy new clothes. I’ll tell you as a side note, if you don’t have supportive girlfriends, please go get some they are literally my lifeblood and the reason I function day to day.

I came home later and sat on the couch. There’s alot going on in my life right now. Parenting has been tough, the house has been tough, financially its been tough. I’m sad all the time. And because of these issues I can’t really do anything about it. I feel frozen and stuck. My friends have mentioned that I need to get out more, that I need to date. My son says the same. But I feel paralyzed. The thoughts that have made me feel so insecure are so loud that all I have done lately is sit on my couch and it makes me sad. But I can’t muster up the mental strength to go out and apologize or explain my existence.

There is enough rationality left in my brain that ive recognized that I am most likely in a state of depression and I have a doctor’s appointment in a week to see if it’s hormonal or mental or both. But I know I can’t keep up. And I know that this is no way to live. And I know that what I “see” as far as physical doesn’t match up to reality. Even as I stare at this side by side, I dont see the “new” me I see the girl who I was. The one who wasn’t afraid. The new me is weak. I don’t even know what she likes. But so far she really sucks and sits at home all the time and cries and then puts on a fake face to go outside. I wore red lipstick the other day and couldn’t wait to take it off because it called too much attention to my face. “Fat Denise” was fearless, a walking goddess who deserved love and took what she needed. A motivator. I would flirt with the cutest guy in the room because who could resist this? Lol I was cocky and brave and funny because I had to be. This new Denise is a hot mess. I feel like I’m trapped inside a melted suit. Like my body is some sort of hand me down that doesn’t quite fit.

No one prepared me for that. I don’t have the luxury of a supportive partner who loved me then and loves me now and who’s seen all the scars and marks. I’m out here trying to sell a beat up clunker of a car while competing with this year’s newest model with all the features bell’s and whistles. If you don’t know what I mean, go take a look at these dating apps and see what you’re up against. These women are beautiful and young and their skin is tight and I’m supposed to stand out how? Suddenly being 38 a single mom and my body looking like it does is more of a “ooh I found this can of dented soup in the discount bin– do you think its safe to eat?” And then it gets put back because for 20 cents more you can buy a can that isn’t dented and avoid potential botulism.

I told y’all it was dark in this brain of mine. And I don’t know when it will get better. If I ever save up enough for skin removal, will the insecurity of the skin move switch to scars? Will I then have to apologize for looking like Frankenstein?

And these are the thoughts that now keep me confined to the house because I don’t have the energy to explain. And I know that I have to try to heal my brain and heart and thoughts one day at a time. And I have to figure out a way to drown out the mean thoughts about myself. I have to try to remind myself that this is just a shell and that internally I’m still the same woman I admire. Even if i can’t find her when I look in the mirror she’s still there and she needs me to get my shit together. I don’t know if anyone really could have prepared me for this.

If you got this far, thank you for reading.


Get Rid of 100 Things: Chapter 1


Happy New Year everyone!! Its been a while since I’ve written and it’s simply or rather not simply been because the latter half of 2017 was whirlwind. It happens. I helped plan our high schools 20th reunion this past September, Kiddo was struggling with turning in his work on time and grades were suffering because 13 year olds…amirite? And then the holidays of course. I ended up having emergency surgery in December to remove the LapBand that I only had for 18 months. The good thing was I had lost 100 lbs, the sad thing was it almost killed me by slipping, and even worse I still owe $7,000 on that surgery and lord knows what the bill for this will be. I didn’t eat for 10 days and well the icing on the cake was a tree hit my house on New Years Eve. Clearly in  a past life i angered the gods and apparently their time to shine was fourth quarter of 2017. It wasn’t all bad here’s a trip down memory lane for the year before i get to the reason for my post.


So now that that is out-of-the-way onto the Getting Rid of 100 Things. When I saw my friend on Facebook post it, i had to pause and i thought hmm how would i do this. The woman who posted it is full of wisdom and always inspires me to think so i knew not to take this lightly. Sure we can look at it physically throw away 100 items. Easy. But I thought I could mix it up to just try to improve my life in general. Yes, there will be a physical purge at some point but i thought it only right that my first thing to “Get Ride Of” is UNREALISTIC EXPECTATIONS.

It’s a new year. If you haven’t been constantly reminded of it by all the New Year New Me posts on Facebook then you’re lucky. I don’t normally make resolutions because I have a hard time committing to anything. Hell, I’m surprised me and my shadow still hang out. But I bit into the hype as one does and mixed in with having my LapBand removed and the fear of gaining weight i decided to sign up for a Women’s Half Marathon in November and that I was going to go on a low carb diet to get these last chunk of lbs off. I figured that i would lose 23 lbs in a month (WTF) AND RUN. Can I tell you that a week in  I was sticking to the diet, worked out but jumped on the scale and i was 15 lbs heavier. Now before you oooh and gasp I need to remind you that prior to this I had emergency surgery, had not eaten for 10 days and then was on a liquid diet for a week so in that time I lost 25 lbs. Its only natural to gain it back for the health of your body as nourishment comes back to sustain you.

But I wasn’t reminding myself of that. I had failed. I gained weight back (which after weight loss surgery, it becomes your biggest fear) i had jumped into bad habits of thinking negatively, I stopped telling myself nice things in the mirror, I criticized my body who really did work very hard this year. I ate sad high protein food and punished myself when I didn’t lose 5 lbs overnight. I found myself crying and depressed and basically had resigned myself to dying alone, undiscovered for years on my couch. Yes I have a flair for the dramatic and it gets the best of me from time to time.

When I saw my friend post the #GetRidOf100Things i sat and thought and came to the idea that my first trash out for the new year was to get rid of the negativity. And that meant, for me. to Get Rid of Unrealistic Expectations. Not only as it pertained to my health, but overall when interacting with people. So ill break it down in the areas where I think this could benefit.

      1. UNREALISTIC BODY EXPECTATIONS: Yes run that half marathon, do it for fun for camaraderie, do it for the adventure. Do not get mad if you don’t finish by a certain time, half to walk a little or are the last one to finish. Do not feed yourself sad food that makes you feel even sadder. Yes make better food choices, portion control, but if you want a piece of pie eat the damn pie. There’s no such thing as bad food enjoy the moment in moderation. Understand that a 23 lbs weight loss in a month isn’t healthy. When I had the LapBand I lost up to 1-1 1/2 lbs a week and i was ok with that. Eventually it got me to a 100 lbs weight loss (OK 85 now that I’m eating again) but if I was happy with a lb then, why all of a sudden is anything less than 7 lbs a week unacceptable?! Who wants to live like that. Stop setting myself up for failure of the heart and mind, I’m not going to win Miss Hawaiian Tropic and I’m OK with that.

the big bang theory burn GIF

      UNREALISTIC RELATIONSHIPS: Honey if he’s just not that into you, there is nothing you can do to salvage that. This year I held onto, clawed and grabbed and tried to feed an unhealthy relationship because we had been friends for 15 years. I figured if the moon aligned right, i won the lottery, dressed pretty, was agreeable and the moon rose over Capricorn (whatever the eff that means) that it would just come together and guess what? all the sweetness in the world couldn’t make that work. In the end this person couldn’t even call me on my birthday and refused to sit with me in the hospital while i was waiting emergency surgery. Lesson here: You can’t get blood from a turnip. And I’m done trying to sell myself the story that i can. Next time ill read the room early and leave in time to enjoy the day.


ellen page shrug GIF

    1. UNREALISTIC TIME CONSTRAINTS: If I can do it I will, if i cant oh well. It is what it is



chris pine any moment GIF

      1. UNREALISTIC FUTURES: I have a vivid imagination. Oftentimes it gets the best of me and I go dark. Like real dark. I tend to think about the things that i don’t have and spiral down from there. Well circle back to me dying on the couch. In this scenario, I’m 38 years old, I’m unmarried and a single mom of one child, a dog and a cat. Often i think about how my son is almost a grown adult and will be going away soon to college or start his life. I imagine he wont call or come home often (even though he’s been raised better) and my married friends and family are all far away. I’m too old to date (nonsense) and I’m going to end up old and alone and no one is going to hold my hand as i leave this good earth. What the actual macabre shit brain!? So I’m going to try my best to not doom and gloom myself to the point of insanity. The next time I’m home on a Saturday watching TV and the cat is in my lap and my kid is upstairs ignoring me it’s just what it is. It’s not an indicator of what is to come and i will not in fact die on the recliner alone with the cat eating my face……you see what i did there? this ones gonna take work 😉

diamonds lyric video i choose to be happy GIF by Rihanna

      UNREALISTIC COMPARISONS: I will refuse to compare my journey with others. I will not look at Facebook pictures and get sad because my life isn’t like XYZ or that I cant buy a car like XYZ or that i wish i could buy those expensive xyz like XYZ. Not gonna do it. Its poison and leads to ungratefulness.


And that’s it. For my first throw away I am going to choose better health and get rid of Unrealistic expectations. What 100 things can you get rid of? I’d love to hear!


Help me Tom Cruise,  Oprah and Baby Jesus 


I just burst out in tears, not my proudest moments as a parent but we all have these moments sometimes where we just fall apart.  I dare any parent to tell me otherwise. Recently I  have entered the wonderful world teenage years.  This is the area where your baby starts to define who they are,  they test boundaries,  they grow,  they dont need you,  but still need you so much.  To me it’s like revisiting the toddler years but with testosterone and lots of eye rolling and back talk and a tiny mustache. This is also the part of your life where as you’re wading in fresh attitude hell,  you apologize to the heavens and your parents for being so awful. I put my parents through pure hell and on a few occasions they both lost their patience with me.  I get it.  Payback is a beyoch and I’m in the throes of it.  

My son is gifted academically and this month alone hes been sought out to be in leadership groups,  invited to take his SATs in the 7th grade and to participate in a 5 year program for kids which will eventually lead to scholarships (I’m a single mom struggling so this is HUGE) hes had to apply to this program by today and write an essay to get in,  get letters of recommendation etc.  He puts it off until this morning. I wake him up, I’m sitting here trying to help and in fussing at him because lately he just has an “I don’t care attitude” and honestly I just want to throw in the towel on this whole parenting thing.  Im stretched thin.  His grades lately have dropped for no other reason than “school is stupid” and well my baby is sullen,  ornery,  and wants to play basketball or video games all day.  This is normal.  This is expected.  There comes a day where you are no longer the favorite human,  the best friend and more of a bother.  I’ve prepared for this,  but what I didn’t expect was the attitude. 

  Going back to this essay that he’s writing,  I ask him “why he didn’t care ” and he says “cuz I don’t,  I’m doing this for you.  You want me to do this,  you said it was for scholarships” 

  So I just was crushed,  because yes he’s 13 he doesn’t realize the opportunities that he has that I never did and how this will help his future.  No 13 year old sees that.  


 So then I go into a speech about how I wish my parents had helped me in school, not because they wouldn’t,  but because they didn’t know of these opportunities or how smart I really was and well in the 90s, I didn’t know how to ask for help either. They instilled a strong work ethic in me, so that’s all I knew.  Work hard,  make an effort and it will work out. (Great lessons. Mom and Dad don’t feel bad) i explained to him how I wish I didn’t have to work two jobs to pay for college that I had to drop out of because I couldn’t afford it, (I’m still paying for college loans with a high school education and no degree)  that if I had a chance at an education I wouldn’t be working at a hotel for 20 years and not following my dreams.  That I wanted a different life and if I had the chances hes been given I’d be a success.  Then I realize ive said this crying. And maybe I am projecting my failures on him and I’m trying to keep him from growing up to be me.  

He looks at me blankly.  This is what parenting a teenager is. 

This parenting thing is so hard and all i think most of us want is for them to be better than us. To be happy and healthy and good kind people.  I know he will be,  I have faith that this will all work out.  He’s too awesome and I just have to remind myself to be gentle and loving and patient because this won’t last forever.  

  Hugs to everyone parenting a teenager….. lord knows I ain’t seen nothing yet.  

Fat Girl PSA

    Its been a while since ive written, so its only natural i go in gung ho about a pet peeve of mine. As you all know,  Ive been very open about my weight loss and that i had Lap-band surgery. Ive told you guys i did it for health reasons and not for vanity (but if i did it for vanity so what #TreatYoSelf) As of this morning I have lost 84 lbs, so suffice to say its a big difference. I get that. People are going to notice, they are going to react. No one prepares you for the attention you get positive or negative. Our bodies are literally on display wherever we go. People will offer unsolicited advice, congratulate you on a job well done, make judgment on what you eat, police your moves, invite you to a dozen FitBit challenges when you would rather melt in to the couch. All well meaning and I get  that.
But here is what bothers me the most- 
   Today i was at Sam’s Club with my friend for work. We frequent SC weekly for over 10 years so the workers know us pretty well. There’s a nice guy who means well (bless his heart) and today as i was walking in he loudly exclaims:
Sam’s Club GUY: “Look at you! You’ve lost so much weight!”
Me: (awkward smile) Thanks! yes i have
SCG: (To my friend) doesn’t she look beautiful now?!
Friend: Shes always been beautiful
Me: Uh, Ive always been beautiful ( I laugh sweetly and awkwardly)
SCG: Yes! Yes! i know, but you look more beautiful now!
Me & Friend: *eye-roll*
Friend: She was beautiful before
Me: I get what your trying to say, and thank you, but it implies that i needed improvement and that’s not why i lost weight, Thank you for the compliment, I also thought i looked fine 84 lbs ago.
SCG: (Wont let it go)
We smile and keep walking.
Whats the problem you ask? The implication that I was not as attractive or beautiful until i lost weight. it may seem that I’m ungrateful for the compliments. It may seem i need to ease up. Maybe I’m one of these liberal feminist snowflakes that just cant let it go. But here’s the thing- Not everyone who is “fat” is ugly, being skinny doesn’t make you automatically beautiful. The outside has changed and rearranged itself, but I’m still the same person on the inside i was almost 100 lbs ago. I don’t put all my self esteem  in my looks, in these 38 years i realized that there’s a whole lot of ugly walking around with a shit ton of make up and designer clothes.
 My issue is the message that we send women in society. That you have to check off some crazy perfection checklist in order to be considered worthy. That you breasts have to look a certain way, that you have to “bounce back” from childbirth within a certain time frame. – What the hell does that even mean? Bounce back? You know whats bouncing back? My uterus after creating life and it hurts!
Ive had people say, “What are you going to do with all this attention when you reach your goal weight?” Me: Uh….watch Netflix. Its like there is this magical day waiting for me where i will wake up and a million little vermin will sew me a dress and clean my house and i will get swept away by a man with a foot fetish and a bad memory. What? That’s NOT what Cinderella is about?
  Let me tell you what will happen. I will wake up like i do every morning. I will take a steaming hot shower that would melt the devils skin off. I will yell for my son to wake up. I will sing or talk to myself while i get dressed and then tell the cat to stop yelling at me to hurry up and feed her. I will brush my teeth, and drive to school/work/ wherever. I will laugh with my friends, call my mom and get on FB to announce i made Goal. Life will go on in whatever fashion seems fit. What i will not do, i bash my former body. I will not say “I was gross, or ugly or let myself go” Because this body, the one that’s under renovation at the moment has given me 13,870+ mornings, noon’s and nights. That’s 13,870 days of seeing the sun and experiencing life. My legs have probably walked the circumference of the Earth by now in steps, my womb held my son safely. I nursed from my breasts. My skin, may have scars and stretch marks- but its literally held me together. My arms hugs people, my hands comfort. My favorite part of my body? My brain- it has made me pretty fearless and unstoppable. How could i turn my back on myself now?
  There was a saying when i was younger that we used to sing “Make new friends but keep the old, one is silver and the others gold” Except when i look at my “old self” there’s nothing brassy or tarnished- it still glitters.
  All I’m saying guys, is that mind your words when giving people compliments. You may mean well, but try to just give a compliment without tearing down the person you are speaking to. Beauty fades, memories last forever and people will never forget how you made them, feel.

One year later, 50 lbs down


A year ago today I took that crazy leap into bettering my health and sat in the pre op room waiting for my doctor to arrive.  A year ago i decided to take a serious look at my health and did something drastic about it.  Facing issues with PCOS, high blood pressure, pre diabetic, insulin resistance, stress i knew that i had tried and failed one too many times.  It wasn’t an easy decision to decide to have LapBand surgery but i felt i had no other way to turn.  My doctors had prescribed medication, i had tried personal trainers, dietician, hypnosis and a slew of other things.  Finally being told by my endocrinologist that my body was just working against me and that without intervention it would get worse.  I still enjoyed obstacle races and hiking but it was getting harder by the day and i felt myself changing internally for the worse.  So i took out a hefty loan and went for it.

Today is my one year anniversary.  I’ve lost 52 lbs and went from a size 24/26 to a 16/18. You might be thinking “wait if she had weight loss surgery a year ago, shouldn’t she have lost a whole lot more than 50 lbs?” And my answer to that is No.

First the science.  I have a metabolic syndrome, polycystic ovarian syndrome and in insulin resistant. All that combined in laymen terms means that it is so easy for me to gain weight but takes a thousand times more effort for me to lose a lb. The other part of the answer is that LapBand surgery is different from the other surgeries.  With LapBand a silicone band is placed around the stomach that connects to a port that is sewn into a muscle.  The band has little pillows that the doctor adjusts with saline.  It can restrict the amount of food and allows me to learn portion control and better food choices.  My stomach is not cut or re-routed. Because it is less drastic the weight loss expected for my surgery is about 1 -2 lbs a week.  So 52 weeks and 52 lbs down.  Now I also chose this surgery because I wanted the slower weight loss.  I know, crazy right? But seriously i wanted out to be paced so my skin would have time to shrink down with it and the chances of my excess skin being  out of control might be minimized.  Another reason was simply, i didn’t have the surgery to be super skinny.  Miss Hawaiian Tropic 2017 was never on my radar lol. I wanted to live and have a better quality of life.  I wasnt suffering from self-esteem issues, i still considered myself to be attractive and i knew that being skinny wasn’t going to be the key to success.  What was going to be the key was how i thought and handled this process.  And that all starts with the mind and heart.  So I’m quite proud of the 50 lbs and i have a quite a bit more to go to make sure that physically I’m at my best so i can do the things i love and be here to meet my future grandchildren one day.

So cheers guys.  It’s been a helluva ride and I can’t wait to see what’s next.

Go out and be awesome ♡


Heroes wear Jerseys : Our amazing adventure with the Harlem Globetrotters


MMME By now everyone knows that my son Michael is my most favorite person in the world. We have fun times together, go on adventures and are pretty open and candid about everything with each other. He’s 12 so I consider the fact that he likes to hang with me a major win. Michael started the 6th grade this year and honestly the transition to middle school has been tough. We have dealt with bullying and racism and he has had to sort through all of this while at the same time trying to figure out his identity. I often go to bed worried. Worried that his spirit will be broken, that he will lose his spark.

A couple of weeks ago I decided very last-minute to cheer him up and bought us tickets to go see The Harlem Globetrotters. They had been a favorite of mine growing up and with Michael being very interested in basketball I decided to show him the greatest team on earth. Up until then he had heard of them but had never seen them in person. So off we went, me hoping this would take his mind off of the issues at school and give him a little magic to look back on for those days that are particularly rough.

MIC HGWe arrive at the arena and Michael is excited, turns out my discount seats are better than we thought and we are 7 rows from the court with access to the tunnel that the players run through. The announcer comes on and Michael is on the edge of his seat. During the entire game hes yelling and clapping and cheering. I’ve never seen him light up so much! He turns to me and says “Mommy, I would like a headband or a jersey” My bank account is really low to be honest so i tell him, probably not today. I excuse MMHGmyself later and sneak by and see that the headbands are just $10 so I buy him one. He immediately smiles big and puts it on his head. At the end of the show they do this cool thing where the kids can go down for autographs but we didn’t have anything to sign so we start to leave. As we are passing by the merchandise table he asks for a jersey. $60 Yikes! amazing quality but Yikes! I explain to him that I can’t afford it today and he remembers that he has been saving up his money in his bank account and he has enough for this jersey. I look at the account and he has exactly $70. He buys himself the jersey and carefully selects #33 BULL. He likes him the most right now because he jumps on the hoops. He puts it on and for the next two days does not take it off. Monday arrives and he’s so excited to wear it to school but when he comes home he tells me that the kids are making fun of him for it. That the jersey is too loud and annoying. He shrugs it off and says to me “‘ it’s ok, I made  half court shot today in basketball” BAM. Day 2. Tuesday, he puts the jersey on again and wears it to school, when he comes home that day he tells me that even more kids are making fun of him and being mean. My heart breaks. He paid for this jersey himself. He loves it and these kids are being so mean! But then he amazes me.


“Mommy? can I wear the jersey again tomorrow? he asks

“Buddy, do you want to give it a breather? I can wash it and have it ready for Friday” I reply

“No. Mommy, I need to wear this again tomorrow. I have a point to prove. They need to know that they can’t break me. That they have other things to worry about besides my jersey. that what they say about Me won’t change who I am. I’m wearing the jersey”

Well dammit, I guess he’s wearing the jersey guys, because he’s got something to prove! So I wash it and have it ready for him. I ask him how long he’s going to wear the jersey and he says “As long as it takes”

So off he goes to bed. The mom heart in me panics and worries but im also proud. So I naturally turn to my friends and mom group on FB and ask everyone what they would do. Would they let their kid wear this jersey for days? maybe even weeks? The response is an overwhelming YES! People feel inspired by his courage to stand up for what he believes in. I decide then to write the Harlem Globetrotters a thank you letter. A thank you for inspiring a strength in my son that i didn’t realize he had. I wanted them to know that if they ever grew weary in the work that they did, that they had managed to change one boys life. So i wrote the following to them:


letter 1letter 2



So of course im all excited and I get on FB and freak out! And friends are happy and cheering and whatnot because that’s what you do, you cheer each others children on! And then one friend from High school sends me a message that her and her husband are friends with Sweet Lou Dunbar

the coach for the Harlem Globtrotters and told him all about Michael. She then sent me a message asking if it was ok for Legend Curley Boo Johnson of the Harlem Globetrotters to call Michael and encourage him as well. Guys, this is a no brainer! So naturally, I make my son stay near me all night until the call comes through so I can record it for his memories! Because how often does this happen! Check out the call below! And then it just keeps getting better!!

After this call, my sweet boy is on cloud 9! I’m talking, flying!! He is amazed that someone who doesn’t even know him would call to talk to him about being true to himself. He is full of love and says to me “Mommy, I feel like the Harlem Globetrotters have my back” AND THEY DO!

Fast forward a couple of days and Michael is still wearing the jersey still catching slack. I get a message from the HG asking for my contact info and Michael’s school info. A few hours later we have a voicemail from a very surprised Principal saying that they received a call from the Globetrotters about Michael (we were at a doctor’s appointment) and we rushed back to the school. In utter disbelief we explain what has happened the past few days and then we are told that they have asked to come to the school to do an anti bullying assembly! I need you to picture Michael sliding out of his seat at this point. He looks at me wide-eyed and says “Whaaaaat did you do?” with the biggest smile on his face, I look him square in the eye and jokingly say “I came to win!” and then we high-five, because were dorky like that!



be the goodAnd then that brings us to the magic of today. Day 12 of wearing the jersey. Day 12 of holding firm in his beliefs, day 12 of being strong and staying true to himself. I was told that they were going to do an assembly at the school at 10 am. This morning before school we ran around making sure teeth were extra brushed, jersey was extra fresh and his afro was extra picked out. I went to work and promptly left at 9 to sit in the office and wait, I didn’t want to miss one second of it! Today was the day they showed up to the school. As I waited for them in the office i was able to meet

Howard Smith the president of the Harlem Globetrotters AND my buddy who had been emailing me the whole time. Please forgive me for forgetting your name, my heart says its Brian but i may be wrong, once I knew it was him i jumped up and gave him a bear hug while he was saying his name. I was busy memorizing his face and awesomeness and thanking him that now i cant remember and i feel like a schmuck! But you sir, if you see this, are the real MVP! ❤ and thanks to Ruby too! Mr. Smith listened to my story about Michael, he let me gush, he listened to how my dad always wanted to see the Globetrotters but never had and offered him tickets! Hey Dad….. time to tell the other kids that im your new favorite forever 😉

mic and zeusAND THEN Zeus walks in. He is going to give the assembly for the kids. He gives us a run down of what to expect and after this it is pure pandemonium! I have attached the link to the assembly, because he is on FIRE! And of course I have tears running down my face when he called Michael to the front! Enjoy it for yourself 🙂

( *apologies the video isnt the best, my phone rotated a couple of times, and i had to splice together clips but you get the jist. Writing i can do, video….not so much)

He also spoke to Michael afterwards and was so kind and sweet to him he gave him his headband! If you havent looked into his bio, please do, the fact that he is out here giving back to the community is so amazing and speak volumes about his character and the values of the Harlem Globetrotters


Today was the day my sweet boy got to see magic in the flesh. Today was the day he was rewarded for his action, bravery and compassion. Today was the day we learned that not all heroes wear capes, but in fact wear jerseys! Thank you so much to everyone involved, the Harlem Globetrotters have a lifelong fan in us and our future generations. We are forever in gratitude and love and if you are reading this, today, you showed us that in your Action you rewarded Bravery and showed not only love but Compassion to us. (The ABC’s of bullying by the way! You can learn more about the program here: ABCs of Bullying Harlem Globetrotters )

And yes, im going to shamelessly plug their website because guys if you havent been you should go. Kids from all ages 0-99 would love this and we can all use a little more magic in our lives.

all 3

Thanks for going on this most amazing journey with us!

❤ Go out and be awesome,

Denise & Michael

all smiles

3/31/17: Bully update for those that asked: Day 13 😉 Michael said the 8th graders and basketball players were high fiving him and that he scored 15 points in basketball today,  one of the shots being a half court shot. I picked him and his tuba up from school today so he didn’t ride the bus.  As he was outside walking the dog,  my windows are open,  i hear 4 different “Michael!” And “Hey Michael” so i get up to look out the window.  2 boys come up and the one i know says “Michael will you please accept my apology” and then i can’t hear anything else.  Michael comes back in to bring the dog back and i ask him if he accepted the boys apology.  He says yes and now all 3 are outside playing basketball outside of the house.  Kids are rarely outside and he doesn’t play with many neighborhood kids,  so the fact that they walked from the neighborhood over to our house to apologize speaks volumes.  It’s tough being 12 years old and I’m sure their parents would be proud that they apologized. Awesomeness all around.  #heroesWearJerseys #MichaelStrong #HarlemGlobetrotters #BeTheGood 

Single Mom, Child Support and other dirty words


meeting-michael I am not exactly sure when the negative stigma of being a single mother started. It seems to me that the only honorable way to go through this unscathed is to be a widow. I look at examples in the bible, women were married off, stories in history where women were bashed, I read comments from keyboard warriors and articles about how we are the demise of society. If you become a single mother from some type of tragic accident, you become strong and people feel compassion for you. Otherwise you are a careless, Jezebel, harlot with no morals or values and we get painted as husband stealing, half assing, horrible people. Someone literally has to die for me to be OK as a single mother. Let that sink in. I remember being young and watching something on the news about Dan Quayle slamming a character on TV named Murphy Brown because she had chosen to become a single mother and I couldn’t understand why people were so upset. I was about 8 or 9 so, there wasn’t much to understand honestly. My own mother had become pregnant with me at 17 and her and my father were hastily married a month later. Granted they just celebrated their 38th wedding anniversary yesterday, but in 1979 had she chosen to go it alone, i imagine that she would have been branded with a Scarlet letter across her chest. In 2004, when i became pregnant, i also received side-eye glances and was shunned by people i thought where my friends. Some people at church wouldn’t speak to me and it baffled me then. I was still the same person they liked yesterday. I was still kind and smart and loving. I wasn’t damaged. But religiously it showed that i was weak, that I gave into the flesh. I thought that was the most absurd thing to hear. I could have easily gotten an abortion and they would have never known. They could have continued to love me being none the wiser. But it was when i decided to carry this amazing life into this world that i received the most backlash from strangers and people. Meanwhile, there were revered people in the church beating their wives, having affairs, snorting cocaine before a sermon, but no one was talking about that, because that “sin” was in secret, mine was on the outside, growing stronger and healthier by the minute. I refused to be shamed or hang my head low. I made my choice and i moved on, leaving behind toxic people who i realized at that moment were never my friends to begin with.

Fast forward to 12 years later and as you know my kid is my world, my everything. I work, sleep, eat and breath to make anything possible for him. Our life is full of love and wonder and magic at times. People still look at me crazy, wondering what I’m up to and why I haven’t gotten married yet. As women we are summed up by the value of a man in our lives. It’s no wonder we suffer from self-esteem issues and feel worthless at times. We get reminded daily that we have “baggage” that we are “baggage”. There aren’t many men who want to step up and help raise another mans child. Those that do are saints. They should be elevated to sainthood, because you looked past the stigma and you saw love and a family and you wanted that so badly for yourself. Kudos to you.

It’s no secret that my ex and I have had our shares of major downs with a few ups sprinkled in between. For those that aren’t familiar ill summarize: Gas-lighting, emotional verbally abusive person who would try to break me down daily until i finally left.

Its been almost 4 years now, in that time I managed to buy my son and I a house, i paid off my car, i moved him to an excellent school district. He plays sports, plays in the band at school, he has sleepovers, we have a dog and a cat, friends and family who love us and life for the most part is good. The area that is lacking to be perfectly honest is that his father, although living just 5 miles away is mainly absent by choice. Only showing up when its convenient, often going “missing” for weeks at a time. It has taken a toll on our son emotionally and is one of the causes of his depression. It is something i cannot fix. All these years i have been solely responsible for him financially and physically. His father at times has helped, but only if i begged and pleaded. So sometimes we went without because i didn’t have it in me to humiliate myself again. My parents and friends have stepped in to help with groceries or bills or lunch money when i was in dire straits. I have applied for scholarships for him to play sports and gotten creative with couponing and grocery shopping etc. I have made payment plans with doctors and schools just so he doesn’t have to feel like “the kid of a single mom”  I don’t qualify for financial assistance because apparently the government thinks I’m rich, and that’s OK. He has no idea, my son that financial sacrifices that are made and i don’t want him to feel bad about it. The home i bought us sits in a multi million dollar neighborhood, i bought it at a foreclosure for $150,000. So he plays with wealthy children and gets that great education and he doesn’t know that if not for that wonderful fortune of events, we could never afford a house so nice in a nice neighborhood.

A couple of years ago after struggling to pay for after care at school and stressed about having to send my son to my parents for the summer because I couldn’t afford summer babysitting, I finally applied for child support. I was nervous and drove almost an hour to the office with all the information i might possibly need in a neat little binder. My stomach was in knots and a friend came along with me. I hated that i had to do this because i knew the repercussions i was about to face when he realized i put in an order. After a couple of weeks, i was given a court date and i waited and waited for that dreaded call from him. It never came of course because they couldn’t serve him, so court dates were pushed back and rescheduled at least 5 times. It has been two years and i still have not been to court to even begin the process. In the interim, i have begged his father for help only to have $26 dollars thrown my way or to beg for new shoes and clothing. Sometimes he would help, but more often than not I was ignored. My mother would be the one who bought his shoes, clothes and Christmas presents this past year. And I paid her back in installments and in gift cards that people had given to me as gifts, i went to several taste tests where they paid you and promptly turned that over to her. It was like handing someone a bag of pennies you collected and hoped that they understood you were trying. And she does and she did and words can’t express how grateful i am for that support. She even came to stay with me over winter break for a month to help take care of him while he was out of school so he wouldn’t have to be alone while i worked since i couldn’t afford for him to be in a camp or anything.

This Saturday, I finally got the call. I had fallen asleep on the couch and my phone buzzed me awake. I sleepily answered and his father was on the other line.

“I got the papers” he said, in a low voice

“What papers?” I sleepily asked

“I got the papers. The child support papers”

“Oh…..” I sat in silence for what seemed and eternity but was probably just a few seconds, bracing myself for impact. Trying to remind myself to be strong, that I knew he was about o be awful to me but any of the words that came out of his mouth were not true. That I wasn’t awful for asking for help, that it was his job as a parent to want his son to succeed.

“You need to withdraw this” he said

“Um..No” I said quietly, then asserted myself “No”

“You really want to put him through this? You want him to go through a paternity test? You need to withdraw”

“Uh, he’s not going to go through anything, he’s not going to court this is child support. I filed this 2 years ago, when you refused to help me with day care and I had to send him off. This is because he needs shoes and underwear and clothes and I shouldn’t have to beg you and plead to help him”

“You need to withdraw this”….. and then there were other exchanges that are not really important to this narrative. But the jist of it is he tried to get me to cancel the order. He gave me reasons why this wasn’t a good idea and tried to play on my insecurities and I held firm. I hung up the phone and sat in silence for a few minutes. Not really knowing what fresh hell I was about to open with this. My stomach ached, I was nauseous. Because what you don’t realize is even getting away from your abuser, your never really free and sometimes the sound of their voice or a disagreement gives you flashbacks of the worst of times.

About a half an hour later, he calls back. I answer the phone with a “hello…” followed by silence.

“Are you going to put him through this?” he says more forcefully this time. “Have you looked at Michael?, have you looked at him?”

Knowing where this was going I responded with “Uh yes, I know what my son looks like, i only gave birth to him and i see him everyday”

“Oh YOUR son” he said.  I thought to myself, oh boy here we go. “Because he doesn’t look anything like me. Do you think he looks like me?” he said angrily. “He looks nothing like me”

Cheese and Rice on a fucking stick. Are you serious?! Was all I could think. I didn’t even get to respond before he said “Because they are going to put him through a paternity test and you need to withdraw, because he doesn’t look like me and you’re going to put him through this”

So this is where he is mentally now. He’s upset that he has been ordered to pay child support and now after 12 years he’s trying to attack my integrity by implying that there is a possibility that our son is not his. He is. There is no doubt.

I answer back with “Look I know you’re sitting there with hopes and dreams of a Maury Povich situation where you get off the hook on a technicality, but he’s your son. Don’t you ever question me again about that. You raised him, you were there when he was born, he has your mannerisms, you and your fathers eyes among other things. Besides, he’s a bi-racial child, guess what genius? he’s not gonna look like anyone, (Even though the kid is my doppelgänger honestly, which is OK because UM I’M HIS MOM)

Then he responded with what he does best, the big bow on the gift of insulting “Oh you think I don’t want him to be my son? why would you say that?” And ladies and gents that is called gas-lighting. Bringing up something, creating a fuss and then turning it around on the other party as if they created the issue and thus they begin to replay and question their sanity. Realizing this i ended the conversation immediately and decided that i needed to have a talk with our son . He’s twelve. if there is a court order that involves a paternity test (which is normal in cases where you file for child support and were never married, this isn’t because my morality is in question or because its assumed i passed my vagina around like an hor de oeuvres plate, its standard procedure in my state. )

I decided to go upstairs and see my sweet boy who was playing video games and none the wiser. “Hey Buddy” I said “Do you have a second? I have to talk to you about something that’s kinda hard”

“Sure” he replied

“Buddy…” and I took a deep breath, a minute or so passed before I could muster up the words to start this awful conversation, but my son and I have that type of relationship. Were very open and honest, you have to be when your running a house like ours. It has to run like a well oiled machine. “Buddy, um, do you know what child support is?”

“Not really, No” he said

“um, well child support is when one parent asks for help financially from the other parent. To help them buy clothes and food and things that the kid needs. Sometimes, child support has to be done in the courts because of the way its set up”

My son, who is half wise but also half sarcastic, a trait he definitely got from me says “So you’re suing daddy?”

“No dude, I’m not suing Daddy. I filed for help a few years ago and they finally sent him the paperwork and we have to go figure some things out. But I’m telling you this because of the way it works, you have to go to a lab and they have to swab your cheek. Its to establish paternity. They do that to protect the dad because there are some not so nice people out there who lie and say that the father is one person when it really isn’t so they make everyone do this”

He laughs and goes into a Maury Povich “you are not the father!” dialogue. I give him side eye and say “Sorry bud, that’s not the case here. Your mother remembers well when you were conceived and there is no doubt in my mind, that’s your daddy”

My son in a moment of clarity and knowing his father says “Let me guess, Daddy’s mad and acting like I might not be his”

“Well, he’s  a little surprised by the order and asked me to cancel it, but I said that i wouldn’t because it’s not fair. You have things that you need and i try my best to provide them, but i need a little help. I hate that i even have to ask, but i had to, and I’m so sorry buddy, that you have to be part of this. You wont have to go to court, we wont fight,He sill loves you, he’s your Daddy. i just had to tell you because of the swab thingy” and then i hung my head in shame and started to tear up.

My son, the best thing to ever come out of our genes, said “Mommy, don’t feel bad. You don’t have to prove yourself to anyone. You have already shown that you can do it and if you need help that OK. Adults always tell kids to ask for help but forget to do it when you become and adult and if you have tried all you could and exhausted all your options, then this is what you have to do”

I look up at this amazing soul and say “how did you get so wise?” and he gives me a sly grin and a mischievous look and then yells out again “You are NOT the father!” because Maury Povich to him is funny and he’s 12 and a stinker. I laugh and give him a hug, call him a bum and ask him if he has any questions. We talk about the stigma of unwed mothers, the baby mama title, the feeling that people think we are out here getting our nails done and at the club spending child support money while our kids sit at home hungry and in filth. I tell him its unfair and that most of the time the money people get is only a little so it’s not even what the main provider spends in a month. That this wasn’t a “Mommy is mad at dad” thing and that anything i received we would put into his bank account and use for his needs. He seemed to handle it well. however, after i walked downstairs about an hour later, he said “I’ve tried calling Daddy twice and now he’s not answering”


Hold your head high little one, we will get through this. This isnt the life i wanted for us, but ill figure out a way to make it a life your proud of.

Five Little Things



Everyone has a list. Big or small, private or taped to the fridge, most of us have a list of some sort that we go back and forth to. Some of them are for groceries, some are honey-do lists some even take form in a dream board. It gives us a sense of order to have these and to tic off the items as we complete them and gives us a feeling of accomplishment. At some point, some of us mave have even created a list that we wouldn’t dare share with others because its so personal.  Something like what we want in a mate or in a relationship. We can try to fake like we don’t, because admitting it would mean we think about it too much and that would make us seem vulnerable and gasp…human. So I thought I would share one of mine, id love if you all would share some back so I feel a little more human and less “out there”

Five Little Things to Win My Heart

Kindness. At the top of all my list be it romantic or friendship, one thing that I value above all is kindness. Kindness to strangers, to animals, to children, to yourself and yes kindness to me. Ive been on the receiveing end of some pretty unkind happenings so this hands down is non-negotiable.

Humor. I laugh at myself on a daily basis. I laugh at my own jokes, corny as they may be. I laugh at my mistakes and my goofs. I make the cheesy equivalent to dad jokes for my son to perfect the art of rolling eyes and getting that facepalm just right. I love to hear the sound of belly laughs. I love when someone is relaxed enough to just let go and find the humor in life. Laughter is everything.
Intelligence. Now I’m not talking degree intelligence. Hell I only have a high school diploma with a smidgen of Art college under my belt. I’m attracted to brains. The type who never stop learning, who always look for a way to improve. Who aren’t afraind of asking the questions and then tinkering away to get the answer. I love people who read, who have a thirst for knowledge. Those on a neverending quest for growth.
Family. Oh this is a tricky one, because we all have different dynamics when it comes to family. We have traditions and breaking points and stories upon stories to tell. But you know what I love? Family. I love when people love their parents and their cousins and siblings, like I love mine. I love that closeness that keeps you grounded. I speak to my mother and sister every day, my brother and father a few times a month because, um their boys and don’t want to be on the phone everyday. I spend weekends going home to Florida to see my family, my family comes to see us for a week or so at a time. I send my son down there for summer break etc. We are so very close and if you are in my life, you have probably been adopted by my family. You are an honorary kid. So I like to see that in my friends and relationships. Closeness. Showing me you love your family shows me you can love mine.

Contentment. Joy. Happiness. Peace. Whatever you call it, I’m describing that feeling that you have when you feel that inspite of all the obstacles, you have a sense of gratitude for your journey. One where you are content with your growth or your projection. Does that mean having a fancy car or big house or being recognized? Nah. Sure those things are great, but my question is. When you look in the mirror are you proud of the person staring back? ugly scars, war stories and all? Are you doing things in your life today so that when you come back tomorrow and look in that mirror, youll think, yeah….im alright with this and smile that big beautiful toothy grin? I love that type of mindset. That happiness that radiates from your soul and infects the lives of others. This is a character trait. Not a situational thing, we all have moments of sadness and depression and anger, but this is like sunlight beaming from your soul. This is love.

And that’s pretty much it. As simple and as complicated as it can be. That is my secret list. The one I think about when people ask me what I’m looking for and this is how I try to answer. It may seem widly broad or oddly specific depending on how you look at it. I’m not sure if I’ll ever find a partner with these qualities but i will say that so far ive found them in my friends who are kinda my soulmates already so, in that, I’m winning.

♡ Denise.

P.s go out and be awesome.

Microwave cooking for One


​So today at the grocery store i was in line behind an elderly man who was telling the cashier it was his birthday and he had special plans.  I smiled.  When i looked to put the divider down between our groceries i saw that his last item was a box of Trojan condoms.  78 years old.  How awesome.  And I’m sitting here eating a microwave meal while the cat stares at me.  Not gonna lie for like 30 seconds i seriously considered Anna-Nicole-Smith-ing his ass. #alltimelow 😉 ♡ 😂

The Nobodies


hello-i-amI’ve been laying here in bed for the past few hours staring at the walls. The house is completely silent, except for the sound of snoring coming from under my bed where the old beagle sleeps. I’ve counted the little dips in the popcorn ceiling, I’ve scrolled endlessly through Facebook. I’ve clicked on my Instagram and wondered about other peoples lives. I cant watch TV. Tonight, like many nights I just need the silence. However, lately the silence is more like the screaming, deafening shouting coming from my head.

I have tried to explain this feeling to a couple of my friends, I’ve talked about it into thin air, hoping by some miracle I would get an answer back in the wind. I have wished at 11:11, 1:11. I have thrown pennies into wishing wells, I have blown out candles, I have prayed. I have been patient and hopeful and now all of that feels fruitless. I am incredibly lonely.

I am missing that experience, that joy that people have when they find love. I celebrate with genuine happiness when another of my friends gets plucked from the field. I help plan weddings, help pick out gifts, wish and hope and send good vibes as if it were for me. Yet this one thing in life alludes me. Love. It may as well be the loch ness monster in my life. I don’t think I’ve ever known it, at least it was never presented to me in that way.

I spoke to my very best friend today about this. She single like me, a mother like me and we tried to dissect where it all went wrong. We went as far back as 7th grade and carefully combed through memories like private investigators. We would bounce back ideas and realized that we were just clueless. Why? Why not us? Why not me? Why never me? We looked at Facebook friends ( and yes I know most FB isn’t real) but we had friends who always seemed to have a good person in their lives or were always being lavished with nice gifts or just in general being supported. We couldn’t find a common denominator because there isn’t one. We saw tall, thin and beautiful, we saw different shapes and sizes, different levels of education, we saw plump, we saw many children, we saw some who didn’t have any. We saw men leave wives for “downgrades” or “upgrades” the whole messy gambit and that never answers the question. Why am I so utterly alone at 37 years old. Why do I continuously find myself alone? What is it about me that makes me so unforgettable?

You turn on the TV and see the RomComs, the magazines have beautiful people in them and we are bombarded with images that say, if you do xyz or look like xyz you will find love. Move over to real life and you see that, that is not true. Men love who they love, be it tiny, big, smart, dumb. There heart is attracted to whomever it is. I have tried coloring my hair, wearing lipstick, never leaving the house unkempt, I have lost weight, I have gained weight, I have left the house natural. I have been the opposite of me and I have been the truest form of me and yet no bites.

The earlier exercise brings me back to high school. I wasn’t exactly the first pick for girlfriend. I had many guys say they were interested, but when it came time for chivalry or grand romantic gestures, it was the other girls that got it. I was the one nominated for homecoming court but had no date. Who only went to the dances with friends boyfriends because I was safe and they didn’t want to go, so it was “Ask Denise” I loved a couple of boys back then and they just didn’t feel the same about me. When I went to college, it was the same, people flirted but nothing went further than that. When I moved to Atlanta, I even joined a church and they would double dates with no strings attached and I spent many nights alone waiting for my roommates to come home and tell me about the great times they had. After a few years of being emotionally starved I met my sons father and it moved so fast that I suddenly found myself pregnant. He didn’t love me either, in fact he would remind me of that everyday for almost 9 years. I stayed for so many reasons, but mainly because it was better to deal with that then to be utterly alone. Until it wasn’t and the tables flipped and I decided that id rather be alone than subject myself to that abuse. And so here I am 4 years later. As single as I was 17 years ago when I moved to Atlanta. A string of unrequited loves behind me and me sitting here baring my soul to the internet to keep from going insane. And I ask myself, if looks don’t matter, then its a personality thing that people are attracted to, and if that’s the case I must be broken. I must be an unlovable, a nobody.

I mean sure before you freak out, I know I’m smart and kind and loving. I do like myself. My self esteem is pretty hearty. But its just not the type that draws people in. That makes people want to stay. I carefully study out people on a daily basis. I’m fascinated with people. I watch, I listen, I see gestures, I hear tones, I listen genuinely. Or maybe because I’m trying to figure out what I am missing.

I have friends throw the same lame excuses out: Your not trying hard enough, get out more, He’s coming just wait, You’re too good for what’s out there, Your not wanting it bad enough, try online dating, try going out without your son, go places with your son you may meet a single dad, did you try the other dating website? You’re not picky…I don’t get it. I just don’t get why your single. Maybe you want it too badly, when you stop looking it will happen. You don’t care enough, maybe you need to try xyz. I’ve heard it all and yes in some scenarios I could see where that would work, but do you understand I’ve been waiting my entire life? And guys I think there is just something wrong with me.

I feel like that one random item in the store that nobody buys, so they move it around hoping it will garner interest, then it goes on sale, then it goes on deeper sale, then its in the BOGO section, until it just gets lost in the shuffle and ends up in a dusty cabinet. And soon everyone forgets about it. Even the people who carefully rooted for it and tried to mark it down so it would be a perceived value. Even those friends eventually stop calling. It becomes the nothing. The nobody. My biggest fear. Well, I take that back. My biggest fear is that my son who is very much like me in personality will suffer the same fate. I pray more for him than I do for myself and I see him having a hard time making friends and I die inside. I pray that he finds someone who loves him so deeply and they go on to have a family and he is surrounded by so much love he can’t imagine it being any other way. And I hope he grows up to be nothing like me in this sense. I pray he’s not 37 typing on a computer, hoping to connect with someone out there on some level, any level to keep him from going insane. In 37 years I do not know what it is to be loved, to be cared for. I couldn’t tell you a wonderful gesture aside from a stranger opening the door for me. The bar is so low it’s practically burying itself in the ground lol


This isn’t a cry for help. I still lead a full and active life. I still enjoy the sun rises and the wind blowing in my face. My favorite part of the day is looking up to the clear sky, not a cloud in sight and thinking it was made just for me. I love watching love. I love hearing laughter, it brings me joy to help others and I feel most myself when I am in servitude. I still dress up, but only because it makes me feel nice. I still believe i still hope. But id be lying if I said it didn’t sting a little and wasn’t maddening at times.

So this, here is for you. The nobodies out there. I get it. You in all your badassery are as stumped as I. But I’m hoping you know you’re not alone, not damaged. There is no algorithm to figuring out why some are loved more than others. Or maybe there is. Either way, tonight I wish you peace and quietness as you try to go to sleep and I hope, if there are any nobodies out there that you wish me the same. Goodnight ❤

P.S I plan on slapping on some red lipstick on in the morning and pretending I never wrote this 😉 so if you made it this far, thank you, from the bottom of my warped heart.