He has Cancer. Thank God.

I feel guilty.  


Let me correct that... I feel guilty for not feeling guilty.

I feel like when I was told that he was just handed a death sentence that some human part of me should have felt compassion for him.  Sadness for his son. Empathy to his family. But I don't.
Hell the news was even delivered to us with a smile by a member of his own family. They, themselves... relieved.


Maybe there is some truth to the accusation of me being a "mean person" -- in this instance, fuck it, I'll take that accusation and wear it like a badge of honor because I feel sheer happiness at the thought of his death. And I have no idea what to do with that emotion. I want to be the bigger person. I want to feel bad. But I can't force myself to be fake.


I feel like Karma has been served up on a platinum platter since he was given a slow, painful death sentence.  One in which his body will be repeatedly violated and tortured and it will slowly deteriorate as he fearfully watches..... helpless..... wishing someone could help him or save him from this horrible, painful life he's living. Karma doing to him what he did to us.

Because that's how I felt. I'm sure that's how my sisters felt. How my mother felt. How his niece felt.  How any other woman or child that he ever violated felt every time he put his disgusting hands on us. Every time he penetrated, touched, fondled, or beat the living shit out of us.  The moments felt like they lasted a lifetime. Sometimes so bad that we prayed for death to escape his sexual predator ways. I was about 13 years old the first time I swallowed a handful of Tylenol while lying down in my bedroom hoping it would end my life.... so drained from walking around with the emotional scars that were so much deeper than the physical scars that were scattered across my used little body.

We thought he would die in prison, but they let him out almost 15 years early for "good behavior" -- ironic for a child rapist. I guess all of the "good behavior" in the world can't save you from the inevitable.


The moment I was told that my ex-step father.... my sexual abuser.... the man that is the root of all evil in our universe had Cancer.... my first thought was "Thank God" --- my second thought was "I hope it is Prostate... Testicular would be ironic, but it's highly curable.... "

I feel horrible.


Who thinks like that?


I'm a good person. I know that. I am a God-fearing, phenomenal woman.  I am a great friend, sister, girlfriend, niece, daughter, etc..... I have devout faith and live by extremely spiritual beliefs.... I have friends and family who have succumbed to, are currently living with or have been cured of all types of Cancers and I would NEVER wish the pain and fear and emotional and physical exhaustion that HORRIBLE disease has caused these people that I love with every ounce of me on anyone.... even my worst enemy....... 


Yet those were my thoughts when I was told he has Cancer.  The shared thoughts of many.
I don't know what to make of these thoughts. I'm sure some of you are reading this thinking I'm nothing short of a cold-hearted bitch.  I guess I'll have to take that and wear it as a badge of honor as well because right now there is nothing anyone who hasn't lived our hell can tell me that will make me feel otherwise.  I've prayed on it.... and I still come back to this horrible feeling. These terrible thoughts. This feeling of....... happiness.


I don't know how to feel.  I had no feelings when he was sentenced to prison for 30 years, yet was enraged when he was released early. I wrote a long letter to the parole board.... maybe I'll post it.... they let him out despite my plea to keep him locked up and my anger soared.  My fear heightened.  As I grew older I felt like I had even forgiven him.  I think I have written about "forgiving him" --- and maybe I have........ but then why would the thought of his eminent death bring forth such peace in my mind?  


Freedom?  


Maybe that's it.  


We still live in fear of running into him again.... or seeing him..... he lives just 30 minutes from my family as it is. I subscribe to his sex offender file..... I stalk it. I live every day in a silent fear that he will return.  I'd be lying if I said I didn't still on some level fear him. I kind of even fear him more now that he has a this disease..... the "what is there to live for" thoughts running through my head.  The fear of a victim never leaves. I'm learning this the hard way. Sometimes I have nightmares that's he's come back to hurt me and my family again.  I wake up screaming in extreme sweats, dry tears on my face... fearful that he's found us and all of our girls and came back to hurt us again. To seek revenge for us turning him in.  For the horror he endured his first nights in prison.... the horror the prison guards happily reported to us.


After the nightmares I spend the day in a daze..... hearing the cries of little girls.... 

Dear God,

Forgive me for these horrible thoughts. 

Please.

In Jesus' name,

Amen.

Freedom... yes, that must be it.


He'll finally be gone.

This is what a Child Rapist/Molester/Domestic Abuser looks like.
And these are just some of his victims.

With love,

Tiffy
xo

Where to begin... Where to begin

Dare I say "Happy New Year!" and um.... "Happy Black History month!" ...... and um... Happy Valentine's Day, St. Patty's Day.... and um yeah....... Almost Happy Easter???  Goodness! It's almost April and I have to admit I'm pretty shocked at myself for my lack of posts since my last "Dad" blog.... which was what... in December? My brain has just been locked up in a state of change. And progress. And well, more change.

As I was rounding out last year, maybe say around October, I had gotten very serious about switching jobs... more importantly switching industries. I had been toying with the idea for about a year and had been working with my boss towards a promotion that I was pretty sure I wanted, for nothing else, one that I knew that I deserved.  The thing was, by the time that actual promotion came along, my vision had changed.  Funny how we are always so sure about the things that we want until we get them and then we realize we never really wanted those things to begin with.  Frustrating.... but necessary. 

A very long story short-- I was offered the promotion. I wasn't offered it in the manner in which I expected it....or had been promised for that matter, but it was offered and I couldn't even bring myself to accept it.  I didn't immediately decline-- part of me was hoping that if the offer came back to what the original plan was that I would want to take it,  but a bigger part of me know that the sheer fact I was dragging my feet had to mean that it was deeper than that.  See I had been working in the same industry for 8 years. In the same company for a combined 6 years and well, I just felt like there wasn't anywhere for me to go............more importantly grow had I remained in the same company. I could have stayed in the industry and grown for sure....... but I'm an extreme person. And when I crave change in any way? I go aaaaaaaaaaall the way left.

So I left. Left the company. Left the industry. Left my security blanket. And it is terrifying in many ways.  I'm 3 weeks in to this new change and it hasn't fully hit me yet. Everything is different. Everyone is different. The media, the terminology, the company, everything.... different.  I'm in rigorous trainings and have to go through certifications and all sorts of fun stuff that will grow me further..... it's exciting and it's terrifying.  Change is good. It's the only constant and I feel refreshed to have made the change.  Here's hoping it was the right one.

So that's about it for now... a lot of other changes that I'll be sure to actually post here. I have been writing more offline.... so at least that's something, right?

Until next time (and hopefully not so  much time....:)

xo
Tiff

The importance of "Dad"......

Growing up without my birth father, I tended to put a lot of emphasis on this quote "Any man can be a father, but it takes a special man to be a Dad"  -- See, Joey is my "Father" -- his DNA (for better or worse) runs through  my veins.... he impregnated my mother.... he is the reason that I exist today.  But he wasn't my Dad.  He wasn't there when I needed him most.  My "Dad" is Alonzo.... and he came to me late in life.... I think I was about 18... maybe 19.... and he's been there ever since.  This is the man that when I need anything or have a question, I call. This is the man that calls me or randomly sends me a card or text to say that he loves me.  He's my Dad. Not by blood. Not even by marriage. But he's my Dad.

Thinking on my own situation.... actually... all of my siblings situations (none of our Fathers were Dads) I realize that the relationship that I have had with men directly correlates to how the men in my mother's life treated her.  I realize that the things that my sisters and I have accepted from men in the past as "okay" are also directly correlated to how we saw men.... our "fathers" treat our mother.  I wonder if men really get that.... do  fathers truly understand that how they treat the mother of their children will directly correlate to the relationships that their children will have in the future?  Because it does.  I mean it really, REALLY does.  We date our Dad's..... seriously. We may not marry them, but in many cases, we date them.... we entertain their antics.... we are intimate with them.... fall in love with them..... so by all means I  have no idea why more fathers don't take heed to how they treat the mother's of their children.

"The greatest thing a father can do for his daughter is to love her mother"..........this quote right here....  is so very true.  Though....  if I had to change this up a little to be more accurate to my family situation... more accurate to a  co-parenting situation,  I'd add in "AND RESPECT her mother" ---- because I think that's where a lot of Father's miss the mark.  They don't respect the mother of their children when they are not together anymore and they don't realize it, but the children see it.  Daughters see it.  We absorb the actions. The words. The times you pick us up and don't speak to our mothers in an amicable way. The times you roll your eyes, suck your teeth or make negative comments to your family about our mothers. The times you berate our mothers. You hurt our mothers. We see it all..... and if we're lucky, we grow up to find men that are nothing like those fathers.... men who will respect us as your daughter.  If we're lucky.  But for many of us, it takes a lot of frog kissing before we find that prince and whether these father's know it or not.... them not being a "Dad".... them not respecting our mothers.... it plays a big a role in who we as women have become. And no, I'm not talking about myself here.... I'm just seeing this lack of respect... this lack of a Dad in my universe more than I care to and it is evident to me that it is easy for Father's to fall short of being a Dad. A Dad who respects his child's mother.

Especially when your child is the product of the proverbial "broken home" -- I was on the train listening to a girl talk to her girlfriend about all of these hateful things that her ex had said about her.... that he had said them to someone else but that her son had heard and he came home and asked her why his Dad would say mean things about her.  He then kissed her on the forehead and said "It's okay, Abuelo says you're the best mommy in the world and I agree." ---  I don't know the girl, but from the outside looking in, her son is lucky to have her Dad to balance out the negativity that her ex clearly still has built up inside. But it's still unfortunate, because sons look up to their Dad's. And that's the kind of example this guy is setting for his son. That it's okay to berate his mother.... it's okay to talk bad about women.  I wonder though, if he even realizes the long of it? The long term effects?

I dunno... I guess I'm kind of rambling.... I've just seen so much of it lately... hell I lived it... and it just makes me think of the future Men. Father's. Dad's. Your son becomes who you were to them. To their mother. And sometimes even who they saw you being when you didn't even know they were watching.  And your daughter? Well statistically... she ends up being with a man who was just like you.  Be the man that you want your daughter to end up with.  Act like the man that you want your son to be.

Yes Mother's give us life..... but Father's truly shape it.... more than many realize.

Until the next time.

xo

Thoughts of others that are my thoughts today.....

"Occasionally in life there are those moments of unutterable fulfillment which cannot be completely explained by those symbols called words. Their meanings can only be articulated by the inaudible language of the heart."




“I am an excitable person who only understands life lyrically, musically, in whom feelings are much stronger as reason. I am so thirsty for the marvelous that only the marvelous has power over me. Anything I can not transform into something marvelous, I let go. Reality doesn't impress me. I only believe in intoxication, in ecstasy, and when ordinary life shackles me, I escape, one way or another.” 

"As we express our gratitude, we must never forget that the highest appreciation is not to utter words, but to live by them."

"I never promised the universe that I would write brilliantly; I only promised the universe that I would write."


“I hate men who are afraid of women's strength.” 


“Happiness is the consequence of personal effort. You fight for it, strive for it, insist upon it, and sometimes even travel around the world looking for it. You have to participate relentlessly in the manifestations of your own blessings. And once you have achieved a state of happiness, you must never become lax about maintaining it. You must make a mighty effort to keep swimming upward into that happiness forever, to stay afloat on top of it.”  


"Fear less, hope more, eat less, chew more, whine less, breathe more, talk less, say more, hate less, love more, and good things will be yours."


"You who are my home and here is what I know now...and it goes, In your love, my salvation lies, In your love. You are my heart."

“We write to taste life twice, in the moment and in retrospect.” 

"There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you."

 

xo

Inspired moments......

"Sometimes you just need someone to believe in you to make you see everything you are worth...
I credit that to you."

I received this compliment from a friend last night and it caught me off guard. In a good way, but off guard for sure. I guess I've never really considered myself someone worthy of that credit... credit to making someone see everything they are worth. Maybe because I am not someone who truly knows my entire worth. That's not some attempt at getting people to tell me "omg you are wonderful and oh so worthy" .... rather it's the truth. I know my strong points and overall I know my "worth" -- the overall worth, but I'm just like you, you and may be even you.... I'm not always good at recognizing what I'm good at doing. I often get bogged down in the "I should be. I could be. I would be's" that sometimes I tend to forget the "I am's."

Does that happen to you? Do you find yourself getting caught up in everything you could, would or should be.... or could, would or should do.... only to realize you ARE plenty of everything else?  And that sometimes... if you just stop looking for towards the future and allow  yourself to be in the present moment.... you may actually be able to embrace all that you are..... all of the time?

I find myself there often.  And it's  hard... because I want to always remain humble. I don't want to toot my own horn (loudly) and I don't want to be anything less than what I deem to be perfect.... so I strive, strive, strive.... and in doing so I realize that I missing out on all that I am in the moment everyone else sees it.

If that friend credits me to believing in them.... to making them feel and know what they are worth.... so much that it gives them confidence to not hold back, why is that I don't constantly do the same for myself?   Why is it so much easier to be the voice of reason for other people and it is so difficult to be the voice of reason for ourselves?

Is it a woman thing? A Libra thing? A Tiffany thing?

Is it not even a "thing"?

I guess if anything it is just something I need to keep exploring.  I'm so very honored to be that person to my dear friend. It took no effort as that friend is an amazingly talented person that I know is destined for incredible success and lifelong happiness. I can see that easily because that is often what friends are for.... to remind us of the things that we forget and to encourage us to do the things that we fear the most.

Now to fully be the Tiffany to me... that I am to them.

Tic Toc.

xo