Create Unexpected Joy!! Give Forward!!

When I got this text message from my girlfriend Dwana I was like, "Ohhhh D.. What have you gone and done now?"  She's always doing something about me. Always trying to help me grow physically, emotionally, spiritually and of course, she has been a BIG supporter of my brand. I met Dwana on Twitter when I was first thinking about blogging. A blogger herself and the managing editor for Chicagonista , I couldn't see at the time what she knew would be a success. She has pushed my work in Social Media and for that I'm grateful.

Dwana has this soft way about her that makes you say, "Okkkkkkk D, I'll try it." I'm going to the chiropractor, Dr. Rosen because of her and he has been a God sent. Just the energy alone when I walk into the room with him gives me life.

Anyway, over these five years of friendship Dwana has been a big supporter, she's purchased bracelets, she's brought groceries and she's been an ear.

So Dwana decided last week that she was going to do something about my horrible finances. My speaking engagements started to dry up about 7 years ago. It has been a slow and painful process. HIV/AIDS is NOT a sexy topic. The fact that people are living longer has made it a less important topic. My other good friend Luke, thinks that some of it is age discrimination. The people that do get the gigs tend to be younger. Yet, I continue to press my way. I have a lot of experience and wisdom when it come to this disease.

But every 10 minutes a person because infected with HIV in the United States.

CDC tweeted last week that African-American women are 20X's more likely to get HIV! The stigma and shame around HIV is running rampant, still in the 21st century -33 years into the pandemic.

There is still work to be done, and I'm never giving up on my ministry. God gave me a mission and I intend to carry it out. That's why I went to Social Media. It's a free forum to educate, inspire and bring hope. Everything I do, Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, Pintrest and Blogging is work for me. I do it 24/7 - when I don't feel like it physically - and when I feel like I'm about to loose my mind emotionally. I just do it because to whom much is given, much is required. God didn't bring me this far to sit on my tail and whine. I've lived 30 years with HIV and 21 years with AIDS, thats a blessing and I dare not squander it. 

So Dwana started this fundraiser for me on "GiveForward." I've been very honest and public about the fact that I'm struggling over here. I've even blogged about it. I'm not sure how I've lived these last 5 years except but by the grace of God. I've sold my clothes on Ebay. In fact, I have a Ebay store active right now. I even have some clothes at Luxury Garage a popular resale store here in Chicago at this moment. No shame, that my church brought me groceries from our food pantry this summer and a couple of really good friends have helped every month with something. Dwana, brought meals two weeks ago, and it just goes on and on. Tiara's grandmother has sent cooked meals over a few times since I've been too sick to cook. Lord knows I'm grateful for all the blessings that come my way. I'm grateful that people love me and believe in my work to sow into me.

Getting IV medication this summer.

People buy, hit or miss, and people always want new stuff. The fact is, we are heading into the middle of September and I still haven't finished the Fall Collection because my health has taken center stage for the better part of 2 months. This means sales are slow and slower. 

So when, Dwana text me that she started this fundraiser for me I was like oh nooooooo D!! I never want people to think I'm begging. Over the years people have offered to have an "event" fundraiser and I've vetoed them - point blank. But this time I said 'O. K.' My impulse was to say NO,  but my spirit said yes. It feels right. I heard God saying, "Don't mess around and miss your blessing child." It does not matter how much is raised, because five bucks is more than you have, it is the thought that counts. 

This is how GiveForward works. It's a public fundraising site for people with "health related issues" and individuals that who are a "rare breed". I fit both categories. LOL. GiveForward is great! Unlike other fundraising sites it allows you to help individuals. Also unlike other sites you get what you've raised, you don't have to meet the goal to get the money. Dwana set the goal of $20,000, but if she raises only $5,000 I still get it.

It's a four month campaign and at the end of the six months they write a check minus 7%. They keep 5% and the other 2% goes to credit card processing. You donate safely on the site though check or Paypal, and with Paypal you can use any credit card you want. 

To date Give Forward had raised $60,512,106 for causes. I figured I had nothing to lose. I'm so grateful for Dwana for thinking enough of me and my work to try to help make life easier for me.

Please consider donating to my GiveForward Fund. And please keep me in your prayers as I muddle through these new set of Heath issues. My spirit has been hit really hard this time around.  Thanks Lovely's!!  It does not matter what you donate!! It all adds up the same way! CLICK HERE TO DONATE...


And here's the URL if you want to donate at. Later date..
(https://www.giveforward.com/fundraiser/wrz2/rae-lewis-thornton-life-fund)  You can also go to GiveForward  GiveForwd.Com and just type in my name  Rae Lewis-Thornton and my page will come up. 

Thank You!!! #ICannotdoitAlone

Olde To Porn Tities...

My Porn Tities Before The Mediport!

I always thought that I had porn tities. Not the kind that are super big, but the ones that are round and shapely and lay just that certain way; easy on the eyes so to speak. Even as I've aged my breast have been the one body part I prized the most. Well, I do have pretty legs and feet, but my breast at 38 D whether covered or uncovered made a point. Then this past December  I had a medi-port place in my chest, right above my porn tities!

Somewhere the medical procedure went astray and before I left the hospital it became infected. Three days later when my home healthcare nurse took the bandage off, I was red, raw and scared up. Click Here to read about my mediport drama. You can also such Mediport on my blog for that saga.

After the First Mediport

The medi-port drama wouldn't go away to save my life. They took that port  out three weeks later then put another one in another three weeks later. Needless to say, I've been cut three times over my pretty porn tities, disrupting the flow of things.  Like my chest was the introduction to my beautiful porn tities; like for real, for real. Shoot, at 51 with AIDS a woman feels like she has got to have some physical attributes. And don't you dare tell me that I'm smart and pretty. My scared up chest was not something that I signed up for and it has been an emotional adjustment.

My Chest Now!

Now, I know this may seem like a small thing to some of you, it may even seem shadow, but I know that every woman thinks there is at least one part of her body, that is the best part, so stop judging. This is some real talk, when your body is altered because of your health, it leaves you feeling helpless and for some even hopeless.

Now in honesty, in the fullness of living with AIDS, I know that my porn tities disruption is a small thing. But for real, it has cause me some embarrassment of sorts. I took this picture on the right last week and all I could think about was the ugly scares on my chest. But then I started to think about my girlfriend Alicia who has porn tits for real for real. I mean for real! I mean, big and shapely and easy on the eyes for real for real. I mean, my 38 D cannot compare to her ummm 44D no matter how hard I wished. When I thought about her beautiful breast I felt shame for how I felt about my scares. 

Alicia Before her Surgery

In the last two months, I've watched her on Instagram, morn the lost of her beast, that is before they took her breast. Each time she posted a picture something inside of me hurt because she hurt. Each picture was like a celebration of what would be no more. Odle to real porn tities, I thought one night. 

Alicia is a  breast cancer survivor now two times. In 2009 I  watched her through surgery, chemotherapy and radiation. She never missed a beat,  for real y'all.  She never even left home without earrings or lipstick. She is my kind of Diva. Then a couple of months ago, she was diagnosed yet again. This time, they had to remove that same breast that they had cut tumors from almost four years earlier

They took her breast last week, and I've watched her new pictures on Instagram. With one breast removed she's still wearing lipstick and earrings with a smile that says I will not let you take my dignity Cancer! Follow Her on IG @Kushluvshouse13

Alicia  After Her Surgery 

While, I'm over here complaining about my scared up chest, I need to slap myself. I can't imagine the lost that she must be feeling. I wish I could change her destiny, but it is what it is.

Because of Alicia, I've been thinking a lot about breast cancer lately. How black women are often diagnosed late and that our survivor rate is less than that of white women. Go to the Black Women's Health Imperative for more information. Click Here

Self Breast Exam

I wonder why, like really, why is the survivor rate for black women with breast cancer worst than any other race?

 Some of it must be poverty, lack of access to health care and mammograms, but how much can we blame on health disparities? There are places that give free mammograms in every state. So then is it lack of information?  Or, at our base line, do Black Women think this is not our issue? Are their some cultural issues around modesty, especially for older black women? Is there an issue with the thought of someone you don't know looking and touching your breast, even in a medical setting?

Let me go a little deeper. These questions must be asked because a breast exam is free. Like I don't see the problem. We can give our own self a breast exam in the privacy of our home.

 I remember after Mrs. Jacqueline Jackson  the wife of Rev. Jesse L. Jackson, Sr., her sister to breast cancer, she kept a fake breast on the table. Every woman that entered her home, she made them touch it. People had thought she had gone mad. But I got it! She had lost her sister and only if  the cancer had been caught early, her sister would've  been sitting around that table with her.

Alicia After Her Surgery

Ok, so we won't touch our own breast in the privacy of our home, but we will let a man suck, bite, squeeze,  gnaw, grab and some even let man cum on their breast. I don't get it, but yet in the privacy of our home, we still can't touch our own breast.

Some of you will even have contempt for the pictures in this blog. I don't get it. We are so fucking self-righteous that we can't even take care of ourselves.

Maybe you think you are to young to get breast cancer. Well, I've known women in in their thirties.  Furthermore, you need to start giving yourself breast exams early so you can learn the shape of your breast, so if there is a shift, you will recognize it.

Breast Cancer is a woman's issue and we need to be addressing it in our organizations, in our homes and among our girlfriends. How old is your mother? Have you asked her when she had her last mammogram?

There is something for all of us to do. It's not enough to Pin A Sister with a pink ribbon. We need to touch our breast, and we need to make sure that the women in our life are touching their breast. You can Click Here to watch a video on how to do a self-breast exam.  Click Here for help locating a place for free mammograms. Chicago has a great program for free mammograms, Click Here for details.

Change starts with you. Unfortunately for Alicia, even though the cancer was discovered early, it came back, which is sometimes the case. Now, as I complain about the scars on my chest, I watch her deal with the lost of a breast. She will have reconstructed surgery in a few months, until then I watch and I pray. On Social Media, she tells her story, she challenges the stigma and shame around the lost of a breast, of course wearing lipstick, earring and  RLT Collection bracelets, but only God knows her real pain. 

The Shades of Grey: Forgiveness and Friendship

I've never been able to have a poker face or heart. Nope, I wear my emotions all over my face right down to my core. When I hurt I hurt and when someone really, really hurts me, I don't know how to regroup.

But yet my heart is so good. There's something about me that picks up strays all day long. I mean I'm the person who tried to keep the baby pigeon alive on my back porch after her mother deserted her. I'm the person who moved a young gay male into my home after his grandmother throw him out over his lifestyle and I practically raised a teenage girl, moving her into my home and assuming a good deal of the responsibility for her. My Pastor calls it the Pastor spirit. He told me, there's this impulse to save.

Not only is my heart good, it's tough. I take hurt in stride and forgiveness serious. But I tend to be a black and white person with very little grey. Right is right and wrong is wrong and whatever grey that lies in between I've learned over the years can be a very dangerous thing.

I've learned over the years that when someone hurts you, you better take notice. Loyalty and trust is everything to me. So when that teenage girl, became a young lady and looked me in the face and lied with tears running down her face, "Mommie, I would never do such a thing." She had been stealing my BMW while I was on the road speaking and one day she left the garage door open and the other tenant's car was burglarized. My landlord said to me over the phone, "Mrs. Thornton, when I came into the garbage the door was wide open." I side with confidence, "But Mrs. Hawkins, I'm out of town. I have nothing to do with this." She replied, "Mrs. Thornton, but your car was gone."

When I came home from speaking I had to deal with it head on. We had our share of growing pains. Of young adult disrespect. That's why she was living down the street and no longer with me. You can't live in my house and disrespect me. We teach people how to treat us; what is acceptable behavior and what is not. But I never thought for one moment that I couldn't trust her, I mean with my life.

As the drama escalated over the week. This girl whom I had given the world to looked me right back in my face less then a week later and said with a straight face, "Yeah I lied. You just mad cause I'm not kissing your ass."

It didn't take a rocket science to see that we had moved into a dangerous shade of grey. That's when I asked for all of my keys home and car. When lying becomes that easy, you take notice. The saying goes, fool me once shame on you, fool me twice shame on me. But it's a hard thing taking notice when you love someone.

Like what do you do with those grey areas for people that you love? With my keys in tote I continued to make an effort and each time I would learn a new lesson the hard way right down to the core of my heart. Then one day I decided that this is not what love should be like.

But their lingered my Pastor Spirit, something inside of me that told me that she needed me to save her... To love all her pain away... But I was trying to save her and killing me in the process.

It was the same thing with my biological mother. A heroine addict for a good part of her life, yet by the time I met her when I was 18, she was clean, married and living an upper middle class life. But by the time I was 24 her demons took center stage and mental illness became a way of life. I had to learn how to protect myself and keep her in my life it was a hard balance and I did it for over 20 years.

Same thing with Mama who raised me. She was a walking contradiction. One moment she was sweet as pie and the next I was bitch this and motherfucker that. But for the most part in my adult years, I negotiated and found balance well. I made my visits and calls short with Mama, because I could never trust her next move.

And after years of finding balance with my biological mother, mental illness, she dug a knife in my heart and twisted it. Lead by her mental illness, she sent me the most horrific letter. It began like this,

 "Dear Rae, I hate you and all Niggers."

My therapist  at the time, didn't bat an eye, he looked me straight in the face and said, "Leave her alone. Her mental illness is dangerous for you." And I walked away until the week before she died, when I dropped everything to go to her sick bed and then followed through by taking care of all of her affairs during and after her death. Her mother, my grandmother, whom I've never met in person, didn't want anything to do with it. I buried my mother in the tradition of her faith, Buddhism. It was me or the State and it was the right thing to do.

It was the same with Mama. I took care of her for two years in her battle with cancer and then buried her with class and dignity. A girlfriend asked me the day I buried Mama, "How did you do it?" I said, "I took care of Mama because of who I am, not because of who she was."

I try my best to practice what I preach. I try not to judge. I try to meet people where they are at, not where I want them to be. I mean in the end, all a person can be is themselves. But sometimes who a person is, is not a good thing for you. I had to learn, especially in the age of Social Media, that everyone is not meant to be your friend.

I try to love others, like how I want to be loved. But when someone hurts you whether it's a lover or a friend you are left with many shades of grey. Like how do you look someone in the face and smile and they dug a knife into you? And does it make you any less of a person that you can't be their friend? We throw this quote around like confetti, "When someone shows you who they are believe them." But when it's time to put this saying into practice, some how we are judged because we don't want to fuck with hurt no more.

Does forgiveness means friendship? I mean how does that really work? You hurt me beyond anything I could ever image and now I'm suppose to chit chat with your ass?

It's like catching your lover in bed with someone, are you suppose to crawl back into that same bed he shared with another? In this case you are left with a lot of hurt and often times a deep abiding love for that person. At least the person you thought they were. I mean did you ever think your lover would be in bed with someone other than you? Like how am I suppose to trust you ever again? How do I determine who you really are, and who I loved?

I'm faced with this dilemma in my life right now; a friendship that was violated in unimaginable terms. It left my new therapist speechless. And after she regained herself, She said to me, "This sort of stuff happens on TV, not in real life."

For months now I've been trying to sort out the pieces. The different shades of grey. The why? The how could I have been so blind sided? The what the fuck do you do with this kind of hurt; The kind of hurt that scares the fuck out of you, a fear of your own personal well being, physically and emotionally. The profound emotional abuse that comes with this level of betrayal. The working through what is real and what ain't.

Yes, there are a lot of grey areas when it comes to the people you love who hurt you, but I've had to learn that loving me first was the greatest love that I can render.

So, I'm finally at a place where I can work it out in therapy. I need to heal, and you can't heal holding onto the hurt. Nor can you pretend this shit didn't happen. You have to deal with it, all of it and deal with it at face value. You must be willing to  call a spade a spade  no matter how painful it may be, or you are no better off then you were living in the hurt.

 For sure, healing must take place before their can ever be a friendship again. And the thing is, while you can be sure of your own healing, you can never quite be sure of the other persons healing. Like have they really worked on the thing that made them violate you in these proportions?

It's been a heavy load. I've had to unpack everything that has been said and perform an autopsy on every single word and deed in the months since the initial hurt. Then on top of that, reexamine the entire friendship. That's a lot of work.

Like for real, for real, trying to determine what's real and what ain't has taken over my life. That's why I'm glad I'm giving it over to a mental health professional who can help me sort out the truths and accept the lies. To help me heal from this unfathomable breach of trust.

What I know for sure, is that Forgiveness is a must in order to heal. Forgiveness is a must if you live the life of a Christian. There is peace in forgiveness. You must do it because it's who you say you are, not because of you they are, or what they did to you.

But forgiveness does not, nor should not guarantee friendship. The betrayal forfeited their right to friendship. Love is a mandate but friendship is a choice that is developed, earned and kept on merit. 

For sure, I know that once their has been a breach of mass portions, nothing can be the same again. The author Nella Larson has a line in her book Passing, If a man calls me a nigger it's his fault the first time, but mine if he has the opportunity to do it again.

Friendship Should Not Hurt!

I blog a lot about relationships but not so much about friendships. For sure they can be as wonderful and toxic as a "relationship." I was thinking a lot about friendship because the girl in the apartment up over me was at it again. There is always some kind of drama and it typically begins in the we hours of the morning.

As I was walking Sophie this morning I started to give it a lot of thought. So at about 4:00 A. M. I was awaken out of my sleep by someone yelling and throwing things over me. Instantly, I said to myself, "Here she goes again." I took a deep breath and sighed then tried to go back to sleep. It was difficult because I could hear the one voice screaming, as things rolled across the floor; CRASH! BANG! BOOM! Then for a while it got quiet and I drafted back into sleep land. All of a sudden, I heard CRASH! BANG! BOOM! again. I looked at my phone, it was now 6:00 A. M. I dragged myself out of bed to go knock on her door. I was trying to be nice before I called the police. Next time, I will just call.

Anyway, as I made my way out of my apartment there was a young woman in tears sitting on the stairs between the second floor. She was a wreck! She had her coat and bag in her lap. She looked pathetic, sad and helpless.

She looked at me and said, "I'm sorry, I just want to get my things and go." That's when I noticed that she was wearing one boot. "Why don't you just knock on her door and ask for your boot?" I suggested. She replied though tears, "She's crazy. She literally picked me up and threw me out of her house." I took a deep breath. Just as I was exhaling, I saw a police officer standing at the outside door. "Thank God," I mumbled.  I'm glad that someone had called. Clearly this was a messy mess that I could not handle. The girl jumbled up from the stairs and came down by me, scared she mumbled, "I don't want to get involved I just want to go home." I opened the door for the police officer and the first thing he asked, "Did you call?" "No, but I was gettin ready to," was my reply." He started to assess the situation.

The young lady was scared out of her wits. She tried to explain that all she wanted to do was go home. She wasn't making much sense to the officer so I explained what I had heard for the last two hours or so and her pattern in the past. He headed for my neighbors apartment and the girl came closer and closer to me. "How long have you known her?"I asked. "About a year," the trembling girl said.  "Has she ever done this before," I questioned? Trying to asses it all myself.

The girl began talking, We went out drinking and she asked me if I wanted to spend the night. It was late and I said yes. We were up there and she just started screaming and throwing things. I don't know what happened. She's crazy.

The second officer had made his way to the outer door and the girl came closer and closer to me. My impulse was to guard my door and Sophie who was in the bed looking at me. I closed my door and opened the outer door for the police officer. The girl started trembling, she couldn't talk and so I gave a mini review, the police officer took over and I closed my door.

When that police officer walked back out the building, I was so concerned about the girl that I opened my door again. The young lady was scared out of her wits. The other police office was still upstairs talking to the girl in the apartment. I could hear bit's and pieces of the conversation. She sounded all articulate, but it were clearly wrapped around some kind of mental illness. She sounded normal, but if you really listened closely, it was a bunch of articulate crap that wasn't making sense when you add it up. About a year ago, she had invited a friend to stay with her until she found an apartment, and it was the same thing every night. Clearly, she is the problem.

The Police office shut her door they stepped in and I could no longer here the conversation.  I was wondering what the Officer thought the moment he stepped into her apartment. She has been trowing things for almost 3 hours or so. In fact, I have no idea  how long the girl had been sitting on the stairs in the hallway, but when I found her there the girl in the apartment was still trowing things and screaming.

The young lady standing at my side spoke up, "I don't want to get involved. He took my drivers license," she mumbled." "It will be Ok," I tried to comfort her. "If I were you," I added my Aunite advice, "I would be done with her. This is not her first time behaving like this." The girl's eyes got big and she reached out and touched me as to say thank you, thank you for confirming that this is not about me.

"So it's not me?" She asked. "No dear heart I've seen it over and over again." I could see the big thank you in her eyes and she sighed in relief. "There's something wrong with her I added, I would be done if I were you." She spoke up in a hushed tone as trying not to anger the girl upstairs. "I'm a really nice person. All I want to do it bake cookies and be nice to people." I giggled to myself. Wanted to say much more but it was not my place. My role at that moment was comfort.

By that time, the police officer came down with her boot in his hand, shaking his head. "How long have you known her?" He than began asking her more questions about their friendship. It was clear to everyone that she was in over her head; that this girl was not the girl she thought she was.

A few minutes later, the girl up stairs walked out of her apartment and when she saw her friend standing there she hollered to the police officers, "She don't live on this premise, make her leave." They shook their head and told her to go back into her apartment. Then she wanted to know for how long? Like really?!

When she shut her door, the police went back to speaking with the girl. They asked about her well being and how she was going to get home, the first officer on the call, a fine brother might I add, offered to give her a ride home.

I said a prayer for her as the police officer escorted her out of my building. About five minutes later, the girl upstairs came out of the building walking her dog as if nothing had happened. As if she was just a regular Gold Cost Girl walking her dog. As if she hadn't terrorized the hell out of this girl for the last 3 hours.

I was so blown away by it all. We meet people and we really don't know who they are. All we really know is what they tell us and what we see. This goes for dating and non dating relationships. And what if, what they tell you, is a lie? How do you work your way out of their maze? And if God should fix it so you learn their truths, what do you do with them?

Do we rationalize friendships based on the good things, over and above the bad things? You do trade off some of your spirit to be a part of the "in" crowed; to have chic friends; to have a ride to the party; to not be lonely; to have someone pick up the check at dinner? The list can of why we stay in toxic friendships goes on and on.

As we move into a new year and a better you, I'm asking you to access your friendships.  Ask yourself these things: Does that person add value to my life? Do they take more than they give? Do they make you feel a certain kind of way at certain times? Are they always negative? Does everything add up or do you have that funny feeling about their life, the things said and the things you have seen. Are they really living the life that they preach?  Do you have arguments over things that don't even make sense?

In making your assessment I want you to remember: If they lie once, they will lie twice; if they throw you out of their car or apartment once, they will do it again; if they degrade you in front of people once, they will do it again; if they talk about other people to you, they will talk about you to other people; if you thought an issue was resolved and you still hear about it in the grapevine, they play in mess for fun.

 People are basically who they are unless they have had some real help over a long period of time. Change does not come quick and easy. Especially if their is some clinical mental illness that has not been diagnosed and even with those diagnosed. People stay in denial, and even family stay in denial and then change never comes. Sometimes, the change for that person is hard. Sometimes, they are not mentally ill they are instead, sociopaths that prey on people. Sometimes it's hard to tell the difference. Sometimes mental illness is an excuse for unhealthy behavior.

But what I knew for sure is this, their inability to change does not mean that a change cannot be within you. You should never be in a relationship where you feel less than. Self-Love should be your baseline. Everything stems from that place where you can be your best you. Never sacrifice your spirit for sub-standard love and nurture.

In all cases you must access your liability and your gain. The liability should never out weigh the gain.

Self-Love should be your parameter. If you feel a certain kind of way in your spirit when you are in contact with that person, you have to ask yourself honestly, is this feeling worth it?

Does this feeling destroy a part of my spirit each time I encounter them?  Friendship should never hurt. This morning I saw a wounded girl, a hurting girl. I pray that she will deal with this trauma and go on with her life. For sure, when someone shows, you who they are, you better believe them or each time you come back, they will hit you harder and harder.

With Self-Love as your guide, you can be a better you! Happy New Year! Here's to making you a better you in 2013!

Monday Reflection: Balancing Hurt-Accepting The Seasons

When someone alters your life without your permission you are in the land of... This is fucked up and how do I recover? You are faced with very hard decisions of how do I balance the thing that has happened to you, with the person that has done it?

They are not mutually exclusive and cannot be compartmentalized; they are very much connected. This becomes very complicated, especially when the person that has done that thing, you love, like for real, for real.

I remember when I was in a relationship with an addict. It was some hard stuff trying to balance my love for him and my love for self. After each time he went out on his monthly drug binge he came home, remorseful, full of guilt and shame.

Yep, he said everything I needed to hear for me to keep him in my life and let him stay in my home. Actually, it was everything I wanted to hear. He always said the right thing, like, "I'll go to AA everyday if need be." As if going to AA was going to actually help him be better; rid him of the sickness of addiction and he wasn't really working the program. Going and working it are two different things.  He even agreed to my demands, let me manage all the money, as if me holding onto the money would stop his addiction. But I went alone with the new plan each time, because I loved him and wanted him in my life. I understand that addiction is a sickness and I was prepared to stand by my man at all cost. I believed it, hook line and sinker and I actually think he believed it, that is until he went to the crack house again.

It was a tangled web. He would go out... hurt himself and me in the process. Let me tell you, there is nothing worst than waiting on the man you love to come home from a crack house. Nothing like watching someone you love hurt themselves over and over again.

During that time I became sicker than  him. I spent all of my time trying to figure out how to keep him clean. My life stopped trying to save his life. His sickness was addiction and my sickness was him.

Then one day he left and I thought my world had crumbled. Life without him was no life at all. But, looking back, I think God did for me what I was unable to do for myself. Get him the hell out of my life, before I destroyed myself trying to save him. Love of a person should never trump love of self, whether family or friend. 

It's hard balancing whether that person should continue to take center stage in your life. First off, you must time take to process and recover from the trauma, drama, the hurt, the change, the breach. While that person's sickness is important and of concern, it cannot trump self-care. You can't help no damn body, if you don't help yourself first.

You must allow yourself time to heal! I tell my BFF Luke all the time, "You can't be a person's "friend" that just hurt you, right now."  That shit is to fresh. You need time to recover from the hurt. But most importantly, redefine the relationship. For sure, once there has been a breach of some sort, things changes. It does not matter the context of the breach, it is what it is. To not consider this new information is not only foolishness, it's dangerous to you emotionally, and potentially physically.

Trying to operate business as usual in the face of change that someone else caused is not self love or self care.  I say all the time, when someone shows you who they are believe them, don't explain it away or make excuses.

I can't tell you whether to keep that person in your life or let them go. For a fact, some people are for part of the journey. Everybody ain't meant to be in your life forever.

We get in God's way, trying to have our way. I heard Bishop TD Jakes say once, "That the problem comes when God removes that person and you try to hold onto what you should have let go." For sure, the Bible say's, for everything there is a season.

And truth be told; some people should have never been a part of the journey. You see the signs early, but you dismiss them. That conflict, your gut, your inner voice, whatever you call it, should never be dismissed out of your need for love and fellowship. If it's to good to be true, it probably is. There is a price for everything and don't you ever forget that. When you don't listen to that inner voice, you end up in a messy-mess. That mess becomes a diversion from God's plan for your life and then God has to get you out of that mess, help you recover from that mess, before you can get back to what has been planned for you.

My Mother With a Book and Cup of Tea

I had to learn this lesson with my  biological mother. Accepting the seasons of a person in your life is not easy this I know for a fact.

My mother didn't come into my life until I was 18. She and I were building a relationship. But by the time I was 24 her mental illness took center stage. Half of her life as a addict, her demons and self-loathing became king in her life. She tried to kill herself through self mutilation. It was devastating and it sent me to therapy for the first time in my life. It was the start of learning to balance her mental illness and accepting the seasons.

At first I tried up close and personal but it was to overwhelming, to damaging to me. Then I got in a grove. I  found a balance to keep her in my life, but that was not over night. It took well over a year and six months of therapy to get to that place.

For over twenty years I met my mother where she was at in her mental illness, not where I wanted her to be.  I loved my mother and although she didn't raise me, I know for a fact that I got my love from books and tea from her. I held on for as long as I could. I held onto to the person she had become as a result of her mental illness, not the person I first met. I got out of denial real quick.

Then  after twenty years there was another major shift, a new breach that was directed at me in the most hurtful way. It's one thing when the hurt is about them. You can balance it, understand it, sympathize with it and have empathy for it. But when the mental illness becomes about you, you must redefine the relationship immediately.

Mental illness is not a play thing. The difficult thing is accepting that they are operating out of mental illness and not a place of recovery. You remember the person they use to be, the person you want them to be, the person you thought they were. But accepting this season in their life is a must, a must for your own mental health and the new season in your life.

It was one of the most painful things in my life. But I had to redefine the relationship for my own emotional and physical well-being. I cut my ties for almost two years, until the week that she died. There is no remorse or guilt. I know that I did the best thing for me. In fact, when I arrived to her bedside in Buffalo New York, I learned that she had started to use drugs again. Probably as a way to self-medicate her mental illness, which is not uncommon. I got out of her web before I was tangled in it. I saw it for what it was and I acted out of my best interest. There is nothing wrong with taking care of you.

I am glad though, that I went to her bedside. It was the best decision for both of us at that moment in time.  It was a new season and I listened to my inner voice yet again.

Looking back, it was a great balancing act for me over the years. You must learn to take the moments in time as they come and weigh out the best decision for your well-being. Nothing is set in stone, take it as it come. But for sure, your love for any one person cannot negate your love for yourself.

For sure, you cannot operate in a relationship that has hurt you as business as usual. You must step back, take the time to heal. Then take the time to redefine the relationship. But healing must be first.

 Hurt clouds your judgement. It's an nasty emotion that can control you for the rest of your life. And if you allow that hurt to fester, you are giving the person who hurt you even more power over you. No one should ever have control over you, whether emotionally or physically.

You must work on your healing, whether through therapy, or prayer. I recommend both! They both offer you some newness. Therapy offers a neutral place to reach your aha moments. Prayer offers comfort, relief and newness.

As my Pastor  L. Bernard Jakes said on Sunday,  "It's ok to hurt from betrayal, it's actually Biblical.  But unaddressed hurt will create a vengeful spirit." Prayer is a privilege, a gift from God to us. We should use it!

Psalms 55:12-14 If a enemy were insulting me, I could endure it; if a foe we're raising himself against me, I could hide from him. But it is you, a man like myself, my companion, my close friend, with whom I once enjoyed sweet fellowship as we walked with the throng at the house of God 
  
55:18-17 But I call to God and the Lord saves me. Evening morning and noon I cry out in distress, and he hears my voice. 

Monday Reflection: You Cannot Go It Alone...

I'm going to admit that sometimes I tend to self-isolate. This is especially true when I'm not feeling good. And that's how it's been lately. It seems like I can't get ahead of this darn illness. As soon as we figure out one thing, there's yet another complicated issue on the table. It becomes emotionally draining on top of the physical discomfort I'm facing. Sometimes I'm so over it that I just shut down. But yesterday I was reminded yet again that I cannot go it alone.

I saw a fellow blogger and Twitter friend, The Cubicle Chick, tweeting about being in Chicago, so I invited her to tea and cupcakes. Another Twitter friend, Curvatude, joined us. But by the time Sunday came around, I was dragging. It took everything I had to pull it together. But the fact that she was from out of town made me push forward.

Cubicle Chick and Curvatude

Since being on Twitter and blogging, I have met some awesome women! Social media has done wonders to help me expand my work around HIV/AIDS. But, it has also helped to expand my network of friends. My therapist used to tell me that you're not gonna meet any new people stuck up in the house, and I'm learning that's a fact! So Sunday I pressed my way and met up with The Cubicle Chick, a lifestyle blogger, and another lifestyle/fashion blogger from Chicago, Curvatude, and we had a blast!

We started out at Starbucks but decided that we needed to get some real food in our stomachs before cupcakes. I was grateful that Danyelle, aka The Cubicle Chick, treated because I was so broke I couldn't pay attention. But after an hour of chatting over brunch we ended back down the street at More Cupcakes and Starbucks.

Over tea and cupcakes, we talked about everything from A to Z. It was really great to share freely with two women who use social media the same way I do. Sometimes there is so much competition between bloggers that it makes you mad. In fact, my trust has already been violated in these ten short months, which has made me skeptical.

But they both shared information to help me step up my game. I am forever more grateful and have already begun working on those suggestions. Soon to come will be weekly videos: A Day In The Life Of A Diva Living With AIDS... And yep, you will see me without make-up #ForReal.  Make sure you subscribe to my YouTube Channel. I need all the support I can get!

We bonded in those four hours. And we laughed and laughed and laughed. I'm sure a few of Starbucks' other customers were over us, but it didn't matter to us. This was not a time for put-ons. Each of us let our hair and guards down as we fellowshipped over Red Velvet cupcakes and tea...

And yet again, it was confirmed for me, that there is no darn reason I should go it alone. There are some good women out there who will lift you up and add value to your life. They both renewed my faith that everybody ain't a user... And we laughed so hard, I'm sure we increased the serotonin to help make me a little more happier in this difficult time full of health challenges. Remember, no matter what you are going through, you cannot go it alone. Sometimes it may be the least expected person to help lift you up. Be open to the possibilities, because you cannot go it alone!

Heart to Heart

Without a doubt I always meet a young adult, who says to me, "I heard you speak when I was in ___." It can be anywhere from 8th grade to 12th grade and it tickles me pink. It's so special to see them all grown up, telling me that they are happy I am still alive and that they were in some way impacted by hearing me speak. It confirms the importance of my work and it warms my heart.

Raijean's 30th Birthday Celebration

And that's exactly what happened this past summer. I was at H&M checking out their AIDS awareness clothing line and some fashion bloggers, who were also there saw my tweets and before I knew it, we were standing on the Mag Mile for well over 30 minutes chatting.

Well, midway through the conversation one of the young ladies said to me the she reads my blog and follows me on Twitter and that she was happy to see that I had not changed one bit since she heard me speak when she was in high school. She went on to explain how I had touched her deeply. I liked that child instantly. Not only was she singing my praises, LOL, but she had this wonderful style about her that I liked instantly. At that time I was in the middle of planning my first Tweet-up; she offered to help and she kept her promise.

I started hanging out with Raijean Stroud and other bloggers over the summer. The blogger world is very small. We all know each other, but honestly, we have paired off into groups of women that think alike and have similar values. Once I got to really know Raijean I discovered that she had heart disease. HUH? But she was only 29. It took a minute for me to digest it all. But in a nutshell, she was diagnosed with Cardiomyopathy. It's a weakening of the heart muscle or a change in the heart muscle structure. Basically, her heart wasn't pumping right which led to congestive heart failure in 6 months.

This baby was given a dual defibrillator to detect any cardiac arrhythmia. The doctors are not quite sure of the cause but it's the law of her land right now. She takes 8 pills a day. And she has to continue to lose weight. She has about 50 more pounds to go. The thing that I like most about Raijean is that she has taken it all in stride. She's always been a Diva and she has not allowed her health to interfere with her fabness!

Honestly, I am so proud of her. She has not stopped one bit. She's a single mom raising a "man child," as she puts it, who is two. She never slacks on her fashion blog and she is building her brand as a fashion critic. She is doing that thang!

But it's one thing to do for you, it's another thing to do for others. Raijean is stepping up her game to bring awareness to heart disease. She was recently asked the be a spokesperson for the American Heart Association. But she is taking it a step further with the launch of her own organization, Bleeding Heart, promoting heart health awareness, one heart at a time.

This Tuesday she is having the official launch party for Bleeding Heart and I will be there dressed all in red as she has requested ready to work! Who would have thought, I touched her heart 15 years ago; she has touched my heart with both her friendship and support of my work in HIV/AIDS prevention and education 15 years later.

Please join me and others as we support Raijean in her mission to educate about heart disease. You can also support her Bleeding Heart Project on Twitter and on Facebook .