dear reader,

journal entry # 1; word vomit

i’m treating this entry as a journal entry. so if you’re reading this, this is me in my raw form. i’m talking about my little blue notebook, lined paper and my 0.7 black gel pen. you know, where I date it October 17, 2024. it’s not witty, it doesn’t make sense and I am just free bleeding onto paper.

the full moon is today and I have to tell you, as a cancer sun, cancer and Capricorn stellium, I am feeling big things. I had therapy yesterday and it was a hard one. I talked about her and all the bullshit she put me through. it never made any sense to me. but as an adult now, it never will and it’s not suppose to. we are not cut from the same cloth. I look at my kids and I could never put them through what I went through. this is one of those times where i’m more than happy to say “could never be me”. because quite literally, could never be me. my therapist asked me (i’m spiritual) if I believe everything was meant to happen the way that it did in order for me to be who I am or if I think I can just be? I told her I felt both sides of that coin. I genuinely believe I was meant to struggle as hard as I have in order to be where i’m at today; physically, emotionally, spiritually, mentally. however, I don’t have to continue to live a life of struggle rather, apply what i’ve learned from the lessons i’ve been handed. I genuinely believe that. I come from such a horrible background. my daddy was 23 when he passed away and I was 5. those numbers…. man. she was the same age as my dad when he passed. and I don’t know if it started after he died but that is when I remember not being loved by her. she blamed me and then swore I wished it was her instead of him. I didn't understand. no child wants their parent dead but hey. whatever made her sleep better. I grew up poor, in every form; abused and alone. I was the oldest of 3 (siblings) and 3 cousins. I had to take care of all of them as if I were the parent. it’s weird because my brother refers to me as his mom and most sisters call their brothers, “brother” but not me. I say “son”. i’m now 34 with a son of my own and man.. I digress. at 14, I climbed out of a relative’s window and ran as fast as I could. I devised a plan to hit the road and never look back. I had a relative that lived in Las Vegas and I hopped on a Greyhound and trekked from Dallas, Texas to Las Vegas, Nevada. I was 14! (sometimes i’m in disbelief how careless I was with my life) i’m super emotional, so getting through this is a little harder for me. just know, there are tears flowing as I get this out. for a long time, I yearned for her love. and then it turned into, I yearned for A mother’s love. back to, yearning for her love. we had the rockiest relationship across multiple lifetimes. we’d talk and then go no-contact for 6 months and then talk for 3 and then no-contact for 2 years. 3 years ago we were in the midst of no-contact and little did I know it’d be the last time we were in no-contact… we’d enter into never speaking again. it’d be me releasing that yearning and healing that mother wound. at first, I was so hurt. I was experiencing some health issues as well as I had recently relived a childhood trauma that, normally I could shove deep down but this time, I couldn’t close that door and I needed a mom. she ignored my calls and I was devastated. that had never happened before; me feeling the way I was. I was needing comfort. I finally sought a therapist after about 7 months. I had reached a period in my life where I NEEDED help and no longer wanted it. i’ve been in therapy for 2 years now and I have to say, the amount of work I have done, the amount of trauma and pain I have healed… well, Marianna, fare thee well. I don’t wish you negativity, I don’t even think about you the way that I use to. you are not my mother, only my incubator as we only share DNA. who you are to your core is not who I am to mine. and I prefer it this way. life didn’t end when I realized you aren’t my mother. life began when I realized I didn’t want to be anything like you - and here I am. a mother to my own 2 children.

this full moon in Aries came for us cardinal signs. but that’s ok! as a scorpio moon, I dig deep into the depths of my shadows. i’m the rise of the phoenix. I have lived multiple lives and I know this is only the beginning. i’m barely entering the era of my life where I am meant to live for ME and pour into the beautiful children I have bore. 2 days ago I was doing laundry and I started watching The Penguin - i’m a DC AND Marvel girlie! I waited until just enough episodes were out so I could binge a handful. random fact: I LOVE doing laundry. as a kid of course it was a chore but as an adult, pour me a glass of wine, put on a good show and I will fold and put away laundry. it’s the most soothing chore I have. but it was 8pm and I was sitting on the floor in my living room, big lights were off and I had my lamps on. I was knee deep in the 3rd episode and my son was in front of me, on the floor and he was drawing. he isn’t a BIG DC fan, more Marvel, and I was explaining how Batman Forever was my fav Batman movie. He would look up every couple of minutes and watch with me and ask questions. I sat there in disbelief for a second. here we were in our apartment, with it being fully furnished, freshly fed, enjoying our necessities as well as our luxuries. here I was bonding with my son while my daughter was in her room, asleep. safe. protected. loved. it’s the smallest things but I swear, I get it. when you come from the opposite of this, being told you could never attain this; when you have it in your hands, you want to savor it. my son is 10 and tells me all of the time “mom, i’m amazed at how you turned out despite what you have been through. i’m so proud of you.” a 10 year old stops me in my tracks and reminds me so often, man im so grateful. life could’ve really turned out fucking sour if I had stayed where I was. and I don’t just mean physically. I didn’t want to be dirty - my spirit.

ok journal, i’m gonna end this here. I could go on and on but I just needed to release for a minute. dinner is ready and it’s pasta. gonna watch my show with my daughter as we are obsessed with Chef! if my next entry is in this form, I hope that’s ok. I love journaling. thank you for taking the time. I hope this wasn't too heavy. remember, I love you. goodnight.

love,

mo!

please enjoy the song I had on repeat while writing this entry <3