Intimately Worded with Michelle

Category: Black men

  • The Cost of no, maybe & no response

    He doesn’t want me…

    and I’m good with that. I am better when I acknowledge that information.  I am still great. I am still going to lose the weight and not eat this big bowl of butter pecan ice cream… and lays potato chips. (Awesome combination and a great emotional cure all.)  I am still loved. I am still an awesome mother. I am still kind. I am appreciative and appreciated. Rejection is painful and it also should make you fully aware of your greatest asset: Self, your You.

    We too often fall victim to our own missteps. We turn our hopes into a great mistake. Learning to love who you are should never be categorized with rejection. Love heals. Love corrects. Love gives. Love loves. Do not tear yourself down due to inattention, love is action.

    I know the negativity that runs rapid through our minds. I know how it replays itself over and over again. The strength of our hearts is based on the strength of our hearts… it’s unbeatable.  Never allow a person to out-purpose God’s intent and intended for you.

    Earlier this week, a great friend asked me why I never spoke of my ex-husband.  I responded: “That’s not a part of me. Why would I? It is so long ago. I have been divorced over 10 years.” She responds: “You filed it away. ” Me: “No. It isn’t a part of me. He was mean and cruel. I refuse to give Satan any credit. To “file away” implies I carry it and at times look back at it. I don’t. I’m healed. There’s no discussion about him because there’s no new information to discuss.” One little tidbit: If a person does not bring up their ex in a conversation, respect it and you in turn do the same.

    I’m learning that no one’s journey is the same. Heartache happens to us all but no one has the right nor the self-history to label my healing. Life is heavy don’t carry the unnecessary; carry hope.

    He doesn’t want me and I’m okay with that. Dating has become so generalized, an unflattering epidemic of social media terms and rules. Love is so much more, so intimate. Don’t get caught up in the pics, the messages,  the memes, sex clips, and infamous propaganda. I watched,  observed my parents a lot. What I didn’t comprehend they explained and taught me better. 33 years of marriage. God’s grace.

    I remember my first date. I was 16, so excited. I finally was allowed to date. My date blew the horn.  I jumped from the sofa,  ready. My mom,  my Pearl: “If you open that door I’ll break your neck.” I stopped in my tracks,  my smile fading. My Dad,  all 6 feet of him: “If he doesn’t come in here and speak to us there is no date. You not going anywhere.” I tried my best to hold back the tears while holding my breath and simultaneously working my unknown telepathic skills to will my date in. He finally crossed the threshold and I remembered that breathing was again wonderful.  Of course there was a list of rules and a set curfew.

    That lesson and many others from my parents keep me “okay” with a great deal of things. Rejection is a minimal concurrent stacked against unlimited possibilities. Know your worth and always expect God’s greater for every area of your life. No matter where you are in the phase of your journey—interested, like, deep like, in love,  can’t live without him feelings, heartbreak, know that you deserve all or nothing. Be proud of wanting what you want!  If the wanted doesn’t want to be wanted free’em with love. Stop bashing self and others. There are other open doors, different and in want of you!

    He doesn’t want me and I’m okay with that. Smile, anyway. His competition, that One will. Keep pressing. Remain focused. Subtract the cost, add in the benefits. For any person struggling for a place to be or how to be… Be you! It is better than okay.

    Heart full,  heart
    A.Michelle

  • Propaganda’s plight vs Hope

    Lately, my focus has been on the circumstance of my life, my status, and the way I am living and how I continue to have to put one foot in front of the other… I am looking at my fight, on the way I have to fight. I am tired yet pushing ahead on purpose.

    Early this morning, I kiss the Little Ones good-bye.  Sometimes they are aware of my good-bye kisses most Saturday mornings they are not.  As I exit our home, leaving for the part-time job at the Center, I am creating a mental task list of my day, how to be, praying that the teens did well throughout the week. I think of my week…the tornado, how Brutus’ anxiety of losing me causes him to come in my bedroom and hold me throughout the night…how I have to sleep-whisper, “I love you,” “I got you” and “I am right here, baby.” I wonder if I am doing enough for him, for all my children. I think of how my family depends on me.  I think of how I have no one to fall on, another Christmas, another year alone. That it is all on me.

    I hear him before I see him,  I scream, freeze and cover my mouth when I realize he was only speaking. He hugs me and just holds me…”Its okay.  The media got us so scared of ourselves.” He says. I try to break the embrace because I do not want to cry and I feel as if I have insulted him,  offended him. He holds me even tighter and says, “It’s alright. This world got us scared of ourselves. We don’t know how to be.” I return his hug, grateful, understanding, tears welling up.  Me: “I am so sorry. I was in my own world your voice startled me not your presence.” He kisses my cheek, “I know.  I know.” He hugs me some more. I hug him back. I thank him and we part ways, better, hopeful.  I am more upset with myself, how I am becoming (even for a moment) because I am unsure of what to do anymore, how to be…and this Stranger reads me, encourages me.

    In my car, I focus on my breathing, cover my face with my hands  and do my best not to cry. I send up prayers for this man, this Black Man, a wonderful Black Man, this caring stranger who reminded me that I am not alone. That no matter the continuous multiple injustices of this world that God is not idly waiting or standing by. #KeithLamontScott #JoeMcKnight

         looking-out-a-window

    I do not have all the answers and a big part of me would not dare to handle such a heavy responsibility. What I know, is right from wrong. What I know, creating policy and law does not make the taking of a life correct. What I know, I am letting my heart become fretful, frightful and that worries me. What I know, normally my mornings consist of peace that someone speaking to me would have never caused me so much alarm. I am actually walking in fear and worry for my life, my sons, my daughter, my nephews, my uncles, my cousins, my family, my friends, for us, this world. So much wrong, protected wrongs that leave us feeling vulnerably unprotected. I can encourage others. I encourage myself. Yet, the law of this land, the community consciousness of a few people can perpetuate so much destruction, legally. Healing is never complete before another tragedy erupts. #BlackLivesMatter

    His hug reminded me that even though I handled so much for so long, it is not time to stop. I leaned into him, this Man for a moment…his heart gave me the synergy to keep going without losing hope, to continue to fight the right way, to be the change agent, to focus on what I know best: give love and to be loving. I pray you meet your “Angel” and that he/she rights your way with the needed hug, encouraging whispers and a kiss on the cheek…the kind of hug that saves your heart, hems it up and reminds you there is more. Knowing God as I do, you will. God is not idly waiting or standing by.

    Know that your life is the center of God’s focus, every aspect of it. No one gets the easy way out nor will the best of us always have the easiest path of living. Just do not give up on being who God wants you to be, stop watching the self-made timeline and do the necessary work, believe and continue. #CarryHope

    Choose to be amazing,

    Michelle

  • Rejection…#BeginAgain

    heart   Life is anything but simple. It would seem only the elders have the answers. When I inquire of their wisdom: “Pray about it.”  “God is there.” Moreover, “You’ve lived through worse.” Great words. True affirmations. Life is still a working complication. No one has the answers to “but why?”

    I am walking, working, faith-ing in crisis mode. I have been for the last few years. Truthfully, each day is a battle. We fight in so many battles. Frankly, I am pretty worn out. My heart hurts. My faith has a little thread showing that keeps being pulled…you know the one piece that if you keep pulling, it will pull the entire garment apart. That is where I am– a place where I am continuously pushed into, the fighting with faith corner.

    I do not think I have any difficulty in learning life’s lessons. I find it difficult to believe my journey is more special than anyone else. Yet for God’s sake, what more do I need to learn? (Rhetorical.)

    Incidently, I do not think love is very tricky. I think the responsibility of it; how we carry it, is the intended lesson. My youngest is nine years old. He is the bravest person I know. What weakens me is his tears, his worries. How he will crawl into bed with me and squeeze me tight, crying because he does not want to lose me. He does not want me to die. I realize I am his world. I am all he has. The one he believes in. #singlemother

    Yet, I cannot promise him that I will be here to see his children. I promise him that I will do better about taking care of myself. My whole self. I shoulder the responsibility of his heart. His and all my children. It is just us and has been just us for the longest.

    I am happy that I am not a bitter, cold person. I think life is too short to become that type of person. I am not anyone’s doormat either. All I have experienced in life either by choice or by God’s design, I will admit I am the better for it. I have to actualize and acknowledge that I am the better for it.

    #Gogettr is my tagged license plate. It took awhile for me to decide on that term. It was after the divorce, after the custody battles, before Darius’ diagnosis, after Momma died, after the partial hysterectomy before unemployment and now, now, it complements the blank canvas to begin a new life at 45 years old.

    Last week three situations happened that circle my faith: Tuesday, an educated man, doctorate degree greets me on the elevator: “So you are #Gogettr?” I look at him confused. Him: “Your license plate. It fits you. That is you.” I smile. He does not know my heart is broken and that my idea of love has become disillusioned. Later, I look up Cambridge’s definition of go-getter:  someone who is very energetic, determined to be successful, and able to deal with new or difficult situations easily. I nod my head in agreement and think, hmmm, a spiritual prognosis. Only me.

    Friday morning, in training class on Person Centered Therapy, my table partner says: “You are amazing. You are beautiful. Your faith moves me. I can see it.”  His words make my life seem real, my faith tangible. Yet he amazes me because this stranger, this white man, married, a father, former military and in law enforcement makes me feel safe. I have not felt safe in a long time.

    Then there is my client, a businessman who initially approached me about working with him. Friday afternoon, I questioned him on me becoming self-employed, taking more classes. I told him I never saw myself that way, outside of being a licensed counselor and published writer. He responds: “You are smart. I can tell how you carry yourself in conversations. I am from the street. I have no clue about the field you want to go into but I will support you. Job loss after 15 years of service!! This is fate. Believe in yourself. Get out there. Learn all you can. Knowledge is power. God has a purpose for all of this.” He is my one and only client. He has no idea how he has affected my life but every meeting he tells me how he is grateful for me.

    It would be a lie if I tell you that I am walking on sunshine and I see rainbows after every storm. I will not tell you that because I do not. I am more reactive where I should be proactive in faith. The more I wail and cry silently the more God sends solidifying proof that He is working and all of this is for my good.

    Rejection: I think rejection is by far one of the greatest emotional hurdles of life. It happens to the best, the innocent and in every aspect of life. Knowing this does not make the acceptance of rejection easier, nor the pain tolerable. Everything we know of ourselves comes under self-scrutiny; from the size of our waist to how many inches our eyes are spaced apart. Our waistline we can control with great discipline but the latter we have no say.

    Demoralizing our self-worth, trying to understand the reasons we experience rejection is a tedious meaningless task and we give it so much work and so much energy. It is self-defeating. Advice from others, those little cliches vex me so. For example, “Hurt people hurt people.” So asinine. “Don’t have any expectations.” Now that is just plain stupid. “Let it go.” Whatever, you try it.

    I want a time where I can rest. Resting in God. I got it. Love Him, I do. Yet for once just once in this lifetime I want to rest in a pair of manly arms that refuse to let me go, to let me hurt. Arms that will let me rest, finally.

    I think I grieve effectively…smh, I even grieve with hope. As a writer, I write it out. As a mother, I pray it out. As a grad student, a counselor I still pray it out. Of all the heels, I have to wear I still pray it out to the One who was rejected by all. How ironic faith is, a conundrum paradox. God’s mending extends our strength. I encourage you not to settle. I promise not to either. Chin up. Keep it moving. There is great power in next. 🙂

    Let us begin again,

    Gogettr aka Michelle.

    Kisses!

     

  • Love anyway

    To be a Guardian ad Litem is the most adventurous, heart-wrenching, soul-healing-happy roles ever. Although, I am unable to share their story due to confidentiality please note that the victims are within the system for much more than what my little self can fix…being there, visiting them makes me happy.

    These two, six-year-old girl and nine-year-old boy are the most genuine lovable pair I have yet to advocate for. They have no knowledge of the past week travesties to their race nor of the ones who protect and serve. They did not hear the woman in my Sunday School class state: “We cause things to happen to ourselves. We deserve what happens to us when we put ourselves in environments like that.” She’s Black, a mother, a wife and older.They are unaware of the state of my heart. I visit them at their daycare. They greet me with hugs and questions. I smile so.

    They command me to get on the floor and race cars, play in the sand box. I think oh my achy knee, hitch up my skirt and I join in. It takes a minute for me to realize that the little girl has snuggled up against me and is inside the crook of my arm. I hug her. She is just chattering away. The little fella has named me in his imaginary carpool with himself as the driver, “Ms. Michelle you can sit in the back seat. I got this.”

    We move to the drawing table and they talk some more. We are drawing and coloring, making paper airplanes and paper masks. Frustrated, the little fella destroys his mask because he cannot cut it just right. He begins to fuss at his sister. She says, “Stop getting so upset. I didn’t do anything to you.” Without any anger or accusation, I address him, “Don’t do that. Do not fuss at her. Try again. We will have to use a different type paper. Don’t get so frustrated and do not quit.”

    An hour later, “Ms. Michelle can you come back tomorrow? Ms. Michelle come back next Friday it is show and tell. Come back next Friday definitely. Ms. Michelle you do not have a phone? You lose it, break it? You really need a phone so I can show you how to play games.”(I keep my phone off and out of sight. They have my full attention.) I left there with a drawing, a happy heart that is sleep (too cute) and a happy heart that is crying. She also drew me in a picture with her family.

    Their story is not the easiest nor one of the worst I have had to advocate for but the innocence and love they have for this stranger bends me and molds me into a better human, a better mother.

    Writing about child advocacy is a difficult task and because of the emotional totality of it, I do not write but today, today these two are an exception…a remarkable exception. Their big hugs are enough to mend me, encourage me to keep doing what I do. 🙂

    As a people we cannot be outdone.God cannot be beat. There are so many reminders of His promises to us. Find a way through it all, continue to care and love for and on others. It makes our world different, better.

    When I return home my Brutus: “The kids good? These are not the ones at the Center. These the ones you guardian for, the ones that have been neglected? You help them. Kids should have their parents, Momma. I like that you do this.”  I kiss and hug him even the more.

    My morning affirmation: After the loss…love anyway, trust this part of the journey, trust the timing of your heart. I believe we observe the power of Holy Spirit more in this part of the journey when we trust God’s timing. We are not in this alone. There is no part of our journey God hasn’t equipped us for. I promise you each phase of our journey prepares us for His next. I am so ready for “After the loss” moments, soul-tired yet ready.  💛 Faith read: Matthew 11:28-30. The choice to be amazing does not guarantee the absence of hurt…it sets you apart to set you apart. Continue to be amazing! ~M.

    P.S. I love when the beginning of the day transforms the remainder of the day.

    As for the lady who spoke such ignorance. No one addressed it. I think God has a way of indicating to fools too.

    Be amazing!

  • An Anchors’ Way…

    anchor

    Two of my favorite men have passed this year, in January and May. We move about life so fast; we keep so busy, reflection is good for the soul.  I saw them weekly at Church, and each time I was always greeted with the most generous smile and great hugs. Old Men, my Elders….67 years old and 90 years old. Musician. Deacon. Wonderful lives. Great men of character. Always laughing, always encouraging. Loved life and phenomenally dealt with whatever came their way. Men of Standard. I think of my daddy, miss him.

    I miss them too. Sunday mornings are definitely different. Despite how difficult transitioning may be for us, the point of living is to live loving. Cherish each other. Family is much more than blood, it involves an understanding of how deep our connections can flow. On this Sunday, I am more caring rather than despondent. I purposely seek out the faces of their wives, their children and make sure I speak and hug them. I send text messages whenever they cross my mind. Funny, I really cannot imagine spending a lifetime with a person. I believe it to be a rarity not an impossible. They made it look easy.

    This world is so different from what I know and it is challenging to see so much difference when my childhood, my growing up, my foundation is completely different. They were my anchors. They consistently reminded me to, “Hold it in the road,” “pray,” “have faith,” or “its ugly out there keep God in here” (pointing to my heart.) So yes, I will miss my Sunday laughs, my Sunday Family, my extension of home. Without the storms, there would be no need to anchor. Let others love on you.

    Be ever expectant,

    Michelle

  • Choose You!

    When my writing reveals more vulnerability than I want to say, my soulfulness caters to my surroundings I cave. I stop writing. My creativity is blocked.  This is the third draft to this post; I began writing it a few days ago.  The walls I have had to build to steady, right my way and block the negativity of others chisels away bit by bit. As a mother, I do it alone. There are greater blessings I am learning in being a single mother. The role is a joy more that it is a hardship. I smile more than I hold on to what ifs. As a teacher, there are days children break my heart yet there are more days when I know the difference in what they see, what they do begins with me. There are no small winnings when teaching for that I am humbled. It is the season of spring, Lent and Resurrection Sunday….new beginnings, time for newness, time for changes.

    This year one of my intentions is to be more open when developing new friendships. Sounds easy enough. What I know: many things I will not entertain, life is just too short. In addition, personal experiences have led me to slot a number of issues as unnecessary.  I do not understand the point of going through unavoidable drama. I refuse to entertain it. We know we “see” crazy before full-blown crazy hits.

    It is ironic that these past few weeks a few good friends have communicated issues in their relationships, seeking my opinion. I am careful not to advise. Cautious in not stating my opinion. I listen, with care. Sunday, in conversation with someone and she feels comfortable enough to share this information concerning her dating wants and issues.  I am open-minded. I do not expound on the matter with negativity. She is 38 to 40 years of age, attractive, confident, Black, a single parent, employed and believes in Christ. Her: “My dating is brief and the sex is always awful. On a first date, this guy picked me up and immediately pulled out a condom once I got in the car. Can you believe that? I still went out with him. It was not worth my time. I got me an ace in the hole. He is my best friend, still. We use to date. I know all about his girlfriends. He is my best friend. Our chemistry is off the chain.”  Me: “Why are you two not together?” Her: “I’m not into women.” Me, naive: “I know you aren’t. Why are you and him not together?” Her: “I’m not into women.” My confusion shows.  Her: “In order to be with him you have to agree to have sex with another woman in front of him. He tells all his girlfriends this from the beginning. They agree to get in then when its time that say no.  Once they disagree to his initial requirement he calls me.”  I am shocked and whisper, “Lord Jesus.” She laughs and goes on to say, “That’s my buddy though. My very best friend. I still see him when I need my fix.” Inwardly, my mind is whirling from all the body fluids just passed around. (Mental vomit.) I did not give any advice. She did not ask. I did not ask any more questions. What I noticed, she was happy when speaking of him. This arrangement, and him, however the prerequisites are this is her comfort zone. Her want. Her happy.

    In my opinion, there is no way her thoughts are connecting with being who she wants to be. Her statement disappointments me greatly, “He’s my best friend.” How? Why? Why settle? Why conform for someone on a part time basis? Their “best friend-sex-ship” has lasted over ten years. I question her requirements on intimacy, privacy and the meaning of best friend. Our population does the excessive for something that has been around since creation. Sex, the pleasure principle! #ego

    The heart is fragile. If our experiences mold, strengthen and at times temporarily break us; why entertain activities that will lead to the demise of who you are and who you want to be?  We all are “being” something, someone; we are in a process of pursuit. The pursuit of prosperity, of bliss, of peace, of affluence, of joy….seeking our own happy.

    The early stage of a relationship represents “let’s try and see where this goes”, and opportunities to reveal one’s hope in what they want. Simple.  I will admit at the first sign of conflict, I am the first to say, “We do not have to do this.”  In all truthfulness, we do not. We choose to remain in the early stage believing we can “fix” or change the person of interest. By experience, we know so much more yet we are willing to overlook tangible signs and push forward idealizing our self-definition of change and hope.  We should be able to grow, increase from knowledge. Self should never fade. When in doubt never run so far left field that no one recognizes you, not even you.

    Love and hope enhance, they should not break you. We are unable to fix people. Our parents, Life can be our greatest teachers. Continue to embrace common sense and core values.

    My thoughts, my five cents when it comes to embracing something new:

    • Do not enter an arrangement that will devalue you in any friendship or relationship.
    • Communicate effectively and with authentic honesty.
    • Do not mislead. Do not allow yourself to be misled. Do not purposely deceive. State your intentions, your wants, and your discomforts.
    • Do not settle. Settling undercuts your self-worth deeply and with precise thoroughness.

    I try my best daily to see the bigger picture in every aspect of my life. My hope, my want is to be in love, to be loved happily and with consistency.  Outside of self, my focus is my tribe. No matter how old they get we are a package deal. No matter how long it may seem remain hopeful. Seek more than momentary pleasure. Fight for and expect more. You define what your more is. One great thing about more, it changes and grows you. Choose you.

    “Instead of holding onto broken dreams hold onto Love.” Alicia Keys.

    Take care of you,

    A.Michelle!

     Singleness: 1,026 days and not settling

  • What are you afraid of?

    I am afraid of spiders and…..Love. Whew. I said it. I can admit it. My fear of spiders is genuine, at times problematic. They are just creepy scary. My oldest son Damien gets so angry with me. He has killed spiders for me the longest. He has traveled to me (I jumped out my car once) to kill a spider. He is sympathetically sarcastic, “This fear makes no sense to me. You are bigger than it. Just step on it.” My response while hiding because my fear grows when I see one, “Is it dead?”

    Love, has always been fairly simple to me. I  grew up believing in the fairy tale—he will be my Prince, patient; my King, kind, able to sweep me off my feet and love me unconditionally and forever. The simplicity of love: you want me. I want you. We make it work. Simple, right?

    I believe we complicate Love. We make it difficult. We calculate what we want. We conceive ideas on how and when we should receive it. We mold who we want to receive it from. If it takes too long we stop working for what we want and we settle. We stop. We begin to build our love, the definition of it our way behind the hurt, underneath the lies and disappointment. We love our way—walled up.

    I have become so accustomed to making excuses to my length of singleness. My dating experiences have been dreadfully futile. I confess that I have never dated, never been one to serial date. If we date, we are working towards a relationship. The last few years my dates have been tragic. One date told me: “You are too independent that’s your problem. I am going to break your spirit.” First date, last date, lose my number. The next guy, I liked. I thought he was real nice. Phone conversation, he tells me he is bisexual. Well that just shut me down completely. I just stopped looking, talking, making eye contact with strangers for about a year. It bothered me because I couldn’t tell his sexual orientation. His lack of knowing which team he wanted to be on struck me to my core. Oh what a mighty new world I have been thrust into!  I began to look forward to Friday nights, glass of wine, popcorn, pajamas and movies at home. These were my free weekends, no kids. Fear can become comfortable, a part of the norm.

    Lately, I have come to realize that I look for holes even when the potential is there. I may recognize the props, the gateway and yet ignore it away, shut down because I am too afraid. Classic fear- to remain where you are. To remain in the hope of singleness is a complete cop out. Most times it is not the man, it is my own fear that keeps me single. Who wants to be fooled again? I truly believe no one can love me the way I love them nor the way I want to be loved. How selfish and “uncourageous ” is that? (uncourageous is my word. My blog. lol)

    The thing is, I love Love. I think marriage is the greatest covenant two people can I have. I love married couples. I smile because they are smiling. I love hearing their stories of growth, phases of uncertainty and their methods of reconnecting–to remain together. Love is work. Love takes effort, not hoops—true effort that includes persistence, honesty and consistency. Love is effortless, it just is.

    I will confess I stopped looking. I assume more than I approach. I judge more than I ask. I give up because I’m unsure and confused. The simplicity of it is, I would have called you last night because I said I would. No matter what is going on in my life I would have called you. Because deep down you are waiting to hear my voice. You are hoping. How has hope become a “game”?  Big sigh,  I’m afraid of love because being afraid of love is easier than being afraid in love.

    Your wuss,

    A. Michelle!

    I really would like to know what you are afraid of, love and what else? Also any likes on the post will comfort me in knowing I am pretty normal.

    Be courageous, let love find you happy. #LOVE

  • Fall, season of new Expectations

    Bru's Love
    Studying…love note from my Bru
                                   
         How awesome is our God by Israel Houghton and Yolanda Adams
    ​        “You love me  and no boundary  can come between us
    You have me  and no power can separate us  and oh my soul cries out  Hallelujah​”
    ​
    I am beginning to love this song. It has been playing in my head all morning, all afternoon…while being Mommy, while exercising. Now, even when I am trying to write for my blog the song continues. What I want to write about I can’t so here goes:
    Love…. ​God’s love is overwhelming….”You have me” resonates deeply within me, within my thoughts. Letting God love you seems like the easiest path to take, yet when He has you and you know it the more difficult it is to actually believe. No one could possibly love all of me.
    My experience as I sat in my Human Development class Tuesday night:  
    The lecture was on Adult love, adult relationships. As a divorcee, I normally keep my mouth shut when topics of love and marriage come up. The professor stated there were three major components that lead to long relationships/quality relationships. Passion + Intimacy + Commitment is what she wrote on the board. Her next question: How do we develop intimacy? The only person to speak up…Me, the divorcee, Ms. Long-term Single: “Trust, vulnerability, openness, honesty and touching.” Her response: “You are exactly right.” I mumble: “I know it,  just never had it.” She smiles. I laugh. The class remains silent. The majority of the class members are married and or have significant others.
    I know that love is one of the most delicate emotions we experience; it also is the most fragile and yet the strongest. I have written from God’s love to adult love, my point: love is one of the greatest healing systems designed by God. As well as the easiest emotion for us to corrupt, destroy and manipulate. If you have love mold it, develop it into what you wish for. Make it come true.
    God has me without boundary, no matter, no issue can separate me from His love. When you are loved by the Creator all else will come, sooner than later. Move toward your wants with God-confidence.  As an individual who loves love, keep loving; It wears well.
    Expect more,
    A. Michelle!