AGAIN

Cheat on me again
Ignore me again
Choose her over me again
Disrespect me again
Yell at me again
Don’t buy me anything again
Don’t introduce me again 
Choose them over me again 
Lie to me again 
Don’t call when you say you will again
Don’t come when you say you will again
Copy & paste the same “Good Morning Beautiful” text you sent to her and send it to me again
Take a selfie with her in mind and send to both of us again 
Lie to her about me again 
Make me think I’m losing my mind again
Make me almost lose my mind again
Make me the one you see when you’re in this city again
Make love to me the night before your wedding again
Make me wait again
Don’t take me out again
Don’t represent me in public again 
Damage my property again
Forget to tell me we’re no longer together again
Overcompensate for disappointing me again
Choose it over me again
Pretend you love me again
Ignore my efforts again
Encourage certain relationships to cover for your inappropriate relationships again
Play with my emotions again
Play with my mind again
Don’t support my dreams again
Don’t support my talents again
Crush my spirit again 
Isolate me from others again 
I think you missed a spot

Written by ERICKA ARTHUR for @authenticiteespeaks 
When I heard this quote today, it triggered this piece. WE put up with SO much bull____. I used to put up with so much ____ing bull____. It’s because I honored my word & loved them harder than they deserved. I loved others more than I loved myself. I confused self care with being self absorbed, so I put myself on the back burner & let my smile, weight & dreams go. Well ____ that. ____ that hard. _____ that real deep & ____ that twice. Be freeđź’«e

Day 138 of 2017

New here? iWrite Love Poetry @authenticiteespeaks |iBlog @ http://www.authenticiteespeaks.com | iTweet @ authenticitee | Stay Awhile | Welcome New Facesđź’«e 

*CLICK BELOW TO SHARE THIS ON SOCIAL MEDIA & VIA EMAIL! ENCOURAGE ANOTHER TODAY!! BE SURE TO SCROLL DOWN BELOW TO SUBSCRIBE!!*

LIKE/FOLLOW e ON FACEBOOK/INSTAGRAM

@authenticiteespeaks – Blog/Love Poetry Fan Page

@InspirationWithE – Inspiration Fan Page

FOLLOW e ON TWITTER

@authenticitee – Love Poetry Page

@EAInspiration – Inspiration Page

BLOG – http://www.authenticiteespeaks.com

Don’t forget to keep in touch & share with a friend!

Much love & welcome new faces!đź’«e

Remember YOU MATTER!

© Ericka Arthur and authenticitee speaks, 2015, 2016, 2017. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ericka Arthur and authenticitee speaks with appropriate and specific direction to the original content
Background photo credit Pinterest. Quote Dr Phil. No copyright infringement intended. 

***TRIGGER WARNING***

THAT WASN’T LOVE

Dear Journal,

I didn’t know it was a trigger until it demobilized me. Thoughts of doubt, insecurity, shame and feeling unwanted chased me down the hallways of my already cluttered mind. I didn’t know it wasn’t love because I never thought about it not being Love. It was just…yeah. 

Fast forward to Love unsolicited but so desperately needed. It manifested in a myriad of tones; and it felt so good, I had no time to analyze its motive. For it washed over streams gone arid and edges gone jagged and it made me…it made me feel so beautiful again. 
Love. Real. Fueled by No Greater Love adds no sorrow. 

Selah,

e

PS: It can still be a good day

5/16/17

Photo credit @rehabtime. No copyright infringement intended. 

Blog | http://www.authenticiteespeaks.com

IG | @authenticiteespeaks
LIKE ON FACEBOOK! @authenticiteespeaks AND @InspirationWithE
Twitter | @authenticitee & @EAInspiration
Remember YOU MATTER!

© Ericka Arthur and authenticitee speaks, 2015, 2016, 2017. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ericka Arthur and authenticitee speaks with appropriate and specific direction to the original content

Emmanuella is only one of two I deemed early in my Instagram journey, Celestial Creative. She possesses a steadfast, consistent range that is intriguing, admirable and attractive. One can’t help but notice that her posture, pace, tone and tenor; both in writing and speech…woos. Writing from a depth that dares you to drown, I admonish…listen intently or risk missing out on something wonderful.  

How could I choose just one piece as a favorite?

In her own words…

Emmanuella Raphaelle was born and grew up in Brooklyn, New York to Caribbean parents who migrated from Haiti. She has been writing for over two decades. 


​Writing poetry and journaling was an escape from the walls caging her in at a young age and became a form of creative therapy and release through her womanhood. 

She is proud to present her first book: After the Affair, Re-Membering, a memoir to the world. She is working on several projects to be released in the coming years. The goal behind all of Emmanuella’s writings and poetry is to intentionally invoke feeling and human-ness in her readers. She wants people to feel emotions and sensate the reality they push away or don’t make time to lean into during their daily lives.


When Emmanuella is not writing, she is enjoying her day job in the transportation field, mentoring young women and taking pictures of flowers and other sentimental things. She enjoys a good life and flower stalking in Atlanta, Georgia with her two children.

 She shares two of her favorites…


e Speaks…

Thank you for joining us here at http://www.authenticiteespeaks.com and stopping by the #WriterCrushWednesday series Emmanuella !! 

SUPPORT EMMANUELLA ON LINE!

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/lifeineminor/
Instagram: @life_in_eminor

Tumblr: life-in-eminor.tumblr.com

Twitter: @LaRaphaElla

Purchase her book here!

Poetry, bio and photos included in this piece are the exclusive property of Emmanuella Raphaelle. Background photo credit for her pieces are noted accordingly. No copyright infringement intended. 

*CLICK BELOW TO SHARE THIS ON SOCIAL MEDIA & VIA EMAIL! ENCOURAGE ANOTHER TODAY!! BE SURE TO SCROLL DOWN BELOW TO SUBSCRIBE!!*

Blog | http://www.authenticiteespeaks.com

IG | @authenticiteespeaks

Twitter | @authenticitee
Remember YOU MATTER!
© Ericka Arthur and authenticitee speaks, 2015, 2016, 2017. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ericka Arthur and authenticitee speaks with appropriate and specific direction to the original content. 


SELF SEEN



I saw your love

On the horizon 

Cautious as it

Headed my way

Soaring on wings

Once broken

Hovering whole

Empowering our 

Buried treasure laid

Bringing with you

A mirror and a mic

Reflecting my 

Self love anew

Unashamed thus 

Telling the world 

My restored 

Fragmented pieces

Were just the beginning

Of my completing you
 

Blog | http://www.authenticiteespeaks.com

IG | @authenticiteespeaks

Twitter | @authenticitee

Remember YOU MATTER!
© Ericka Arthur and authenticitee speaks, 2015, 2016, 2017. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ericka Arthur and authenticitee speaks with appropriate and specific direction to the original content

 

Photo Credit: sunny time by stéphane bourson, via 500px

No copyright infringement intended. 

My ode to @disorderly.ramblings’ Self Love Challenge

Nope. Can’t say that I remember. I couldn’t tell you where any of my stickers from previous elections were hiding (if kept); nor have I ever been inclined to take a picture of one. Nonetheless this keepsake is from the recent United States 2016 presidential election. What I do remember is the first election where I was finally old enough to vote! It resulted in the first (and last to date) African-American mayor of New York City, David Dinkins, being elected. I have changed so much since that day; but one thing that has remained the same is my unwavering decision to vote – no matter what.

I don’t talk politics. Well usually. I have participated in every election since that first privilege to do so. I remember being excited about having a choice to sound my voice. Kudos to my mother, a young working widow, raising two children in the heart of Brooklyn, New York. One of the strongest women I know, she incessantly stressed the importance of learning how to drive and being registered to vote. So thanks to Mommy; voting (and being a “lead foot” New York driver) is not an option, no matter what.

Things here in the United States have been extremely tense and violent while blatant racism is at an all time high. It’s a hostile climate that we often talk to our children about; especially as people of color now living in the southern region. As a family of faith, there was a time my husband and I would alternate leading family morning devotionals with the children before they left for school. Now morning prayer has replaced the lengthy diatribe that would often cause us to lose track of time because the conversations were so rich and quite frankly: we like each other.

Fast forward to the current state of our nation and its undeniable affect on religious believers both publicly and privately. These times are pulling on every spiritual deposit that has ever been made into my life as well as in the lives of those in my household. Yet Sundays are still described as one of the most segregated days of the week. It is rare for congregations to be diverse, multi-cultural, and multi-ethnic. Most schools and places of worship tend to reflect one ethnic group, simply based on the demographics of the neighborhood. However the Body of Christ, looks completely different than the local church. There are several who are either not aware of the difference between the local church and the Body of Christ or they have turned a deaf ear and blind eye to what Heaven will look like. 

POST ELECTION PRAISE: This Is Not A Dress Rehearsal

I know that there are many heated debates and discussions about the issues at hand. I also know that at the end of the day God is love but we are not seeing very much of that in this hour. One of the beautiful things about love with pure motives is it’s healing properties. The idea of those with polarizing views being able to have civil, vital dialogue without vicious, hateful racist venom being spewed may seem out of reach to many but not to God…no matter what.

The sad reality is there are many who don’t know how to “do church” outside of the four walls of the church therefore reinforcing great division amongst believers about many matters, including this most recent election. Being kind and respectful to one another in one’s place of worship, on one’s preferred day of worship; does not necessarily translate to extending love to those who may look and think differently. But it should…no matter what.

Where the world may have once looked to the church, both local and universal, for answers; it smirks at its smug toxicity with great disdain. There are also several people who have been greatly damaged, offended or violated by religious entities and so religion and spirituality in and of itself is already a major turn off. It is important for those of us who still believe to remember that this is not a dress rehearsal! From the haughty demeanor of those who are in church 24 hours a day/7 days a week to the embittered hearts of those who are “C.M.E.” attendees (Christmas, Mother’s Day and Easter). From those who attend services out of obligation, though the flame has long diminished; to those on fire for God, abstaining from formal gatherings in traditional settings. This is it. This is real life. The real deal. This is not your cute children’s church play, cloistered bake sales, jazz vesper or annual holiday bazaar. We are daily interacting with and walking by people, who are in real pain. Those who are depressed, scared, suicidal and angry. Dousing the inferno of the prevailing ugliness of racism with racism and religious segregation, as one who claims God as the source of their love, is not love.

I believe very strongly that change must come; and as a lover of diversity and the beautiful mosaic of cultures in God’s creation, I’m sickened by the climate we are raising our children in. It is extremely reminiscent of too many of history’s atrocities to name; that ancestors have fought to eradicate. I know the last days are upon us, there is no doubt in my mind but until our last breaths are drawn, believers must deal with the darkness in their own hearts before ever being fully entrusted with the sacred salve so desperately needed to heal the hearts of others.

Post election praise must first start at home before its oil can soothe the wounds of the walking wounded. This is not a dress rehearsal. It’s an invitation to the real world and to life unscripted. You were built for such a time as this and are needed because its happening now…no matter what.

 

 

Because of Him,

e

 

Follow me on Twitter @authenticitee and on Instagram for love poetry @authenticiteespeaks

© Ericka Arthur and authenticitee speaks, 2015, 2016 Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ericka Arthur and authenticitee speaks with appropriate and specific direction to the original content
Photo Credits Ericka Arthur for authenticitee speaks


November 9, 2016
Blog | http://www.authenticiteespeaks.com
IG | @authenticiteespeaks
Twitter | @authenticitee
Remember YOU MATTER!

© Ericka Arthur and authenticitee speaks, 2015, 2016 Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ericka Arthur and authenticitee speaks with appropriate and specific direction to the original content
Photo Credits Google Images. QUOTE CREDIT: TONI MORRISON – No copyright infringement intended. 

new-blog

She kept asking questions. She was very polite and though I’ve only known her a short time, I really enjoy her company. We’ve had many deep conversations to date, so her gentle prodding has been a natural, inoffensive progression of our exchanges. As new coworkers, I’ve managed to circumvent answering her each time she asks my age. Not ashamed of it mind you; I was just raised to keep it to myself is all. I love to hear her laugh when I respond, “Old enough to know betta…” served with a smirk and a cup of side eye. Not to mention her guessing my age as many as 15 years my junior, has my weary feet flying a million miles above ground.

So this morning ’round ’bout 4:30am when my shift was nearing an end and my defenses were as low as my eyelids; she, driven by youthful vigor and insight beyond her years asked how I ended up in the southern state we live in. I hesitated and tried to get my bearings together. I had been doing so well. Though I had mastered the art of telling the story; the test behind the testimony, without dropping names and managing to package hell in an ornate box with a beautiful ribbon; before I knew it the tears began to fall. “Its been rough….so rough…a long 5 years”. 

I fought to hold back the tears and fasten my politically correct seat belt; grasping for the filter fused together with scriptures, smiles and scotch tape I’d used for so long. Voice wavering and tears flowing, I don’t remember too much of what I shared, but figured as she handed me tissue across the desk as she was fighting back tears, that I must’ve really needed that cry.

I am not a victim, I am a victor or in some circles referred to as a victim survivor. I now know that holding it together for others while holding it all in with no outlet was not wise. Maybe you are the strong one for everyone; the “go to” person. The one everyone relies on. I pray that you will find the time, space and healing you need and hey maybe even..that cry.

 

Love, 
e

 
© Ericka Arthur and authenticitee speaks, 2015, 2016 Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ericka Arthur and authenticitee speaks with appropriate and specific direction to the original content

Photo Credits Hadi Alakhras via Google Images. No copyright infringement intended. 

 

 

 

 

 

CULTURES

 

 

 

 

 

 

There’s so much beauty in diversity; in learning about and appreciating different cultures. I am captivated by the mosaic of all faces, languages and nations. However as an African American woman living in the States, there are times others send hidden signals that I need to stick with my own kind. I wasn’t raised that way. I have a problem with that. And though I have no one in my immediate circle that ignorant or narrow minded; I notice the larger my sphere of influence gets; the more I am expected to choose. Yeah, not the kid. Culture…I love it all.

If you’re not new to Authenticitee Speaks, you know I’m a native New Yorker; born and raised in Brooklyn all my life. In one of my earlier blogs, Barbra, Bob and Black Gospel, I poured my heart out about loving all genres of music. Everything from fellow Brooklyn native, Barbra Streisand to Reggae superstar, Bob Marley. Even at my all African American junior high school in the hood, I was taught Broadway show tunes. It was rough there. Loved the school, really loved the people; but hated the violence that would jump off at times. It was there that I first learned to despise Halloween with an intense passion. The neighborhood “welcome committee” wouldn’t just throw eggs at us; at times the eggs were boiled and the tomatoes that flew across scurrying crowds would have straight pins in them.

Fast forward to my culturally diverse and academically challenging high school. It was there that in addition to Spanish; I was required to take two years of Classical Latin for the Humanities program I was in. I however being an overachiever, took three years of Classical Latin. Well, that’s my way of explaining the second year being…let’s just say, less than stellar. Ah..talk about diversity! It was so well mixed. I loved it there. Hands down, a true representation of Brooklyn NY. Hands down, still one of the best memories of my childhood. Culture…I love it all.

Though the high school itself was a safe haven, violence still found its way around the school. During the winter break of our freshman year in college all of my friends met at the McDonald’s a few blocks away. We were meeting to catch up on old times before going to the Winter Concert at the alma mater we loved so much. At the last minute I was unable to meet them early and decided to go directly to the school. One of my closest classmates never made it to the concert. Tondelayo Nikita Alfred, who shared a limo with me on prom night, was murdered when some (insert explicative here) thought it was a good idea to spray a hail of bullets into a crowded McDonald’s. Two strays hit her chest ending her life yet my life I assure you, has never been the same.

In a day and age of disgusting, and in my opinion, satanically energized racism; its disheartening to see division everywhere. I am a woman who loves my heritage and culture as a proud African American. I adore my people and our varied shades, styles and hues. But I love and appreciate all cultures. I love learning about other points of view. I can’t stand being limited and I feel racism does just that. It divides and limits. You know, if you allow that to permeate your world, its a dangerous disservice to yourself and others. Its amazing to me how many feel that I should only love my own. Its a concept as a woman of faith, that I refuse to embrace.

You know whats funny (not funny)? My African American husband and I have two children together who look different from each other at first glance. My beautiful daughter is fair skin with hazel eyes and when she was younger, I was sorely offended when referred to as her nanny by strangers on several occasions. Two years later I gave birth to a handsome son with dark brown skin and people had comments about that from afar. Chosen by God to raise children in this wicked hour of nearsightedness, we are not in denial. We know that the pervasiveness of evil and the exposure to and of it is prevailing; however so is the love of people like myself. Culture…here’s to those of us who love it all.

 

e

Blog | http://www.authenticiteespeaks.com

IG | @authenticiteespeaks

Twitter | @authenticitee

Remember YOU MATTER!

© Ericka Arthur and authenticitee speaks, 2015, 2016 Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ericka Arthur and authenticitee speaks with appropriate and specific direction to the original content

Photo Credit:cultureshock.scripts.mit.edu. No copyright infringement intended.


As a married woman of 18 1/2 years and one with decades of Love Gone Right and Love Gone Wrong lived experience; I’ve been referred to on more than one occasion as “The Love Doctor“.

When I first started venting about Love as it relates to this pseudo series, it was almost exactly a month ago today. I woke up on a Sunday morning with much to say in my piece Good Sunday Morning! Let’s Talk About Love! I tried to be mindful of Sunday being a sacred day of worship (for my household) and how hard I would stomp on the subject. But I had a lot to say about it…and still do. 

During a very heated discussion with a loved one this past week, I mentioned their not being an expert in relationships, because of past failures and their immediate counterattack was something along the lines of, “And you’re an expert on Love? You’re not an expert and you write about it!”. They went on further to remind me I’m neither degreed nor certified in Love and the like but yet I write Love Poetry all the time!

True. I’m not licensed in Love; so then what does constitute an expert? I liken it to a Child Psychologist with no children or the Mother or Grandmother who can “out Chef” any top Chef but never went to cooking school a day in her life. Such is the case with Love. Who’s more qualified to talk about Love? One who’s lived it or one who’s studied it? 

What would make me an expert?Though I never said I was. Could one be considered an expert only if they have a high success rate in said matters of the heart? What constitutes success? Years of enduring a miserable relationship or being in an abusive relationship and having the courage to leave it? Multiple sexual partners with no disease or unwanted children or one relationship that is thought to be monogamous until an STD is contracted? The Marriage Counselor who’s never been married or the cousin who’s been divorced twice?

It’s all relative.

In that case the loved one with whom I was “dialoguing” with is just as much of an “expert” as I am; or not.

Thoughts?

e

Blog | http://www.authenticiteespeaks.com

IG | @authenticiteespeaks

Twitter | @authenticitee

Remember YOU MATTER!

© Ericka Arthur and authenticitee speaks, 2015, 2016 Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ericka Arthur and authenticitee speaks with appropriate and specific direction to the original content
Photo Credits Ericka Arthur for authenticitee speaks with the exception of displayed image. Courtesy of Google Images- No copyright infringement intended.

  
When I was a small child, I made an embarrassing statement in ignorance that I was quickly chastised for. After being taught the definition of the word ‘paralyzed‘; I soon followed with a wish to be just that. Horrified by my statement, my Mom, a young widow at the time, immediately corrected me. Once I fully understood the lack of wisdom in my reasoning I quickly apologized to God without her prompting, canceling the request; retrieving it from the atmosphere. Snatching it back from the sky with a vengeance. 

My rationale however? I just didn’t want to feel pain. 

Even at a young age I had learned the then perceived value of apathy and the perks of being numb. Something about being stoic served as both guarantor and notice that I was present but impenetrable. Of course life continued to happen and I evolved. Feelings snowballing, heart exposed whether I wore sleeves or not…

But pain?

I later learned. It’s a sign. It lets us know that we’re still here. No. We shouldn’t be gluttons for punishment or so used to it that abuse feels like love. But when we check out of life to the point that we’re going through the motions and sorting through our collections of masks to wear because pain has shut us down? Like a power outage during the worst of storms? When the pain is so bad we black out? So bad to the point that we can no longer feel?

Perhaps we should take a moment, breathe, and ask ourselves, “When was the last time I felt…anything at all?” 

Love you to life🌹e

© Ericka Arthur and authenticitee, 2015, 2016 Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ericka Arthur and authenticitee with appropriate and specific direction to the original 

Quote on Photo- Ericka Arthur for @authenticiteespeaks on Instagram 
Background photo credit Pixaby. No copyright infringement intended.