I open my heart to you, not polished or guarded, But torn and trembling, willing. I lay down love, not love as compassion, But the need to be consumed by another— so I may reclaim peace as one undivided, So, my thoughts may still walk in silence, and my reactions follow gracefully.
Forgive the moments I’ve responded from the storm, not the sanctuary, The times I’ve chosen impulse over insight And let your gift seem forgotten.
I bleed truth before you now: Not perfect, but present. Not pure by achievement, But willing to begin.
Let my sacrifice not be sadness but strength— not a denial, but a devotion. Make my mind up. Make my spirit still. And let your sacrifice ripple through me as a renewal, Not a regret.
I speak aloud, and the world echoes back— a reflection I never saw until now.
I was always here, beneath the layers they painted over me, beneath the wishes of others, The expectations pressed against my skin.
Love is possible, as long as I dare to unfold, to chip away at walls built in fear— but fear is a stubborn architect.
To open the door, to hand over power— Isn’t that the same as handing over the last piece of myself? I have given my body to others, because without them, I cannot move forward.
But my heart— My heart is my own. And if I hold onto it, If I keep it locked away, Who will ever truly know me?
What else is left to say when the heart has screamed itself hoarse, when its walls have cracked wide open so someone—anyone—could see the blue blood spilling, pleading without words?
But wounds can be blind, too, scarred thick like stone— too numb to flinch, too closed to break again.
And so, silence swallows the echoes, and the heart learns what it already knew— some cries fall softly into the abyss, unheard.
I want my heart to still, to silence the echo of your name. I want my ribs to unburden the weight of love carved too deep.
If I could unfeel, I could unhurt. If I could unlove, I could unbreak. But wishes slip through trembling hands, and prayers unravel in the wind.
One day, perhaps, you will step into my life as easily as you step away. We will fold into each other like pages in a book, then tear apart at the spine, It was never meant to be reread.
I can wish. I can beg the stars to rewrite our fate. But life is not kind with guarantees. And love—love is never ours to command.
Tears linger just behind my eyes, Not born of rage nor sorrow’s disguise. But of comfort, strange and unplanned moments shared with the one who first held my hand.
She was unyielding, with words sharp and bare, no cushioning of feelings, and no room for despair.
“Rid yourself of these emotions,” she sternly declares, “Life has so much more than love’s fleeting airs.”
And I agree—life holds a vast view. But missing from mine is the person I knew. Anger simmers—does she see, does she care?
Or is indifference cloaked in the air?
I wrestle with trust and letting her in. Guarded and vulnerable, where do I begin? If my mother can’t see the ache in my chest, who else could understand and invest?
She should be my haven, compass, friend, and confidante on whom I could always depend. But her eyes brush past the anguish I hold—my love, my loss, my story untold.
Still, I must face her with honesty and grace, even when her warmth feels misplaced. I yearn to impart love and understanding to bridge the divide that tugs at my heart.
In the stillness, I linger, A traveler lost between roads, Footsteps echo in the same hollow, Dreams perched on horizons untold.
The clock whispers of missed moments, Yet time cradles me, unyielding, Perhaps it’s not the journey that’s delayed, But the strength within is still building.
For how can I sail distant seas, When my own heart lies adrift? The map I seek lies deep within, My essence, my anchor, my gift.
So, I offer my time, my devotion, To mend the threads of my being, Before I chart the stars ahead, And embrace the life I’m seeing.
I tinted his heart with shades of regret, Lost in the echoes of words unsaid. It is more straightforward to break than to mend, Love, denied, refused to bend. Years pass, and the weight still clings, In the silence, my heartstrings sing. Seeking peace in the fragments of the past, Hoping for an opportunity,
It’s another late night for me, with my mind running away without knowing if I will ever stop running.
Apart from hopes, I will stop running because I need a mental break; this is when balance is key for all my thoughts and actions.
Balance is so important to me right now because, with balance, I can find such a firm peace with myself that things that I struggled with I have allowed to roll off my back. I want it to be like second nature sooner rather than later.
That would mean other people would not disturb the peace of mind I am building for myself.
It’s been a while since I put pen to paper, so here goes nothing. 2024 is leaving, and we’re welcoming 2025 into our lives; those who have to leave things behind should and will leave them behind because the whole point of a New Beginning is being able to leave the old baggage behind. I’m saying that all to say that I’m saying that all to say this.
I’m leaving 2024 with a lot of blessings and a lot of opportunities that I never thought in 1 million years I would have always seen, and one of the significant things that I am proud to say 2024 has given me is a new lease on life and the newest chapter of my life. And those who know me know I am a total girly girl throwing through. That’s what I am. That’s what I’ve always been.
For the last few weeks, I’ve been contemplating buying myself a ring—not just any ring, but one that represents recommitment to myself as a person and a woman.
When people or the world chooses to look down at my hands and ask me what that is, I will say it’s a commitment I have made to myself coming into 2025. I’m committing to having the best relationship with myself that I can have. Before I can have any relationship with someone else, I’m committing to putting myself first and foremost.
I’m also committing to being kind and understanding to myself, and I’m also committing to loving and growing with myself as I grow; I know I will make mistakes because who doesn’t make mistakes?
But those mistakes are gonna be my learning stepping stone to becoming a better version of who I know I can be and should be for myself and no one else. Who better to be married to me than me? I choose me for now and forever. It’s all me.
Those who have followed me know I am a disabled blogger, and As a disabled blogger, I share my life with the world. But with that comes a lot of criticism. People think my posts are just me complaining, but I’m trying to show people the real me.
This is my life, and no one else is writing it. Let’s get down to the nitty-gritty of this post. I want to hear the words I’m proud of you, no matter what I’ve accomplished.
I want to hear them. I’m proud of you and knew you could do it despite your limitations. But sadly, I’m 43 years old, and I haven’t heard those words from anyone who’s given me life and purpose and pushed me for the last 43 years so I can keep living.
I thought I was here to be as successful and independent as possible, but that’s not the case with my mother-and-daughter relationship. I’m 43, and she’s given up her life journey for me because, like I’ve said before, I’m a burden.
So, she thinks and wants me to believe that, but I don’t because I know I can and will do what I have to do for myself, not anyone else. It drives me crazy that just because I’m disabled, I’m supposed to be a piece of furniture that doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, and doesn’t do anything. That’s not who I am.
I’ve never been that person. She’s always told me out of all my children; you’ve been the most defining child I’ve had because I know I can and will do for myself as much as I can, and the things I can’t do for myself, I will find someone to help me do those things for myself because I know what I need for myself to be me.
As a parent, I’d ensure my child is self-sufficient, regardless of ability. The hardest thing for a parent is leaving a child unprepared for life. I thought our relationship would become simpler as she matured and saw me as an adult. But I’m not a child.
I may need help physically, but I can take care of everything mentally. There’s nothing wrong with my brain. I’m not afraid to learn or teach. I thought I’d told her I’m not afraid to live beyond my limitations. I’m not afraid of my limitations; they’ve become my greatest strength. My strength goes beyond anything anyone could imagine.
Hey, Mom, I have something super important to share with you. I’m so grateful for everything you’ve done for me, but I also think it’s time for us to figure out what we can and can’t do without each other. You’ve given me so much of yourself, and I want you to know I appreciate it.
But I also need to take care of myself and my own needs. I’m not saying I don’t love you, but I need to spread my wings and fly. I know it’s scary to think about being without each other, but I also know it’s time for us to find peace and happiness.
I know you’ve done your part and deserve your time to find out who you are without me. I’m so proud of the amazing person you’ve raised me to be, and I know you’ll always be there for me, even if we’re not always together. Trust yourself, Mom. You’ve done an incredible job, and I know you’ll always be my rock.
Perfection is an elusive ideal, and real life is beautifully imperfect. Struggling with mental well-being is a common human experience, and it’s okay to have triggers. Remember that you’re not alone in this journey. Sometimes, the most courageous battles are the ones we fight within ourselves.
No one should have a specific reason to have a relationship with God. We should all want guidance and something to believe in. Why not believe in God? God doesn’t give any of us anything we should not handle.
I’ve always been the type of person only to find my spiritual side when I feel like I have my hands tied behind my back, and there’s nothing for me to do but turn to him and hope that he makes it all better.
I don’t want to be that type of person anymore. I look for God when I don’t have a way out. I want to give myself to God because I need strength. I need to know that he doesn’t expect me to be perfect and understands that I need to heal.
I need to heal from all the damage that I’ve been through; for me to heal, I need to allow myself to break into little pieces and then find a way to put myself together, but I won’t be able to do that until I find my purpose or his purpose for me.
I need to understand that before I can belong to someone, I need to belong to myself and treat myself with respect, dignity, and love.
Why is asking for help such a difficult thing for people to do? We hurt ourselves a lot more when we can’t put our pride aside and say I need help because a lot of us have been conditioned to handle things alone, but sometimes we need that helping hand that’s going to pull us and show us did there is the way out of the darkness. We need not fear the hand that will pull us out of the darkness because if we fear it, how will we ever see the light again? No matter what disgusting thing might be going on in the world. We all need to continue to look towards the brightest light in front of us so we have a reason to continue to fight and build a better future. No matter what disgusting thing might be going on in the world. We all need to continue to look towards the brightest light in front of us so we can continue fighting and building a better future for ourselves.
Social media is not accurate social media has become like a smoke and mirror of things.
The people enjoy watching. As an influencer or whatever people want to see me, I don’t put my entire life on social media because I know social media is not accurate.
I understand that social media can be cruel and very mean. If you don’t have tough skin, many people would not be able to handle being influencers or bloggers because society chooses to judge us on what we post on our social media platforms.
But, if you are constantly posting on social media that you’re happy, in love, or whatever the case may be, that’s what people will believe in because that is what we have chosen the camera to caption.
One principle that society forgets or refuses to acknowledge is that just because someone is a caption with a smile does not mean happiness. Social media is a few minutes away from reality.
It’s challenging to disconnect from social media because the media has become a large work market for everyone around us too. Even I can admit that I need to learn to disconnect and live in the moment. Not every moment needs to be captioned or posted on social media because important moments lose value.
Stephen Boss, a charismatic hip-hop dancer and television personality known as tWitch who rose to fame on the reality show “So You Think You Can Dance” before becoming a regular on “The Ellen DeGeneres Show,” died on Tuesday in a motel room in Los Angeles. He was 40.
The death was ruled a suicide by the Los Angeles County medical examiner’s office.
Mr. Boss joined “So You Think You Can Dance” in 2008 as a 25-year-old with a talent for popping — a dance form associated with hip-hop that involves isolating parts of the body with a staccato rhythm — and an ability to make the judges burst into laughter with his facial expressions and theatrics.
He soon found himself dancing unfamiliar styles like the waltz and the tango on national television, and he finished the show’s fourth season as runner-up. Later in the series, Mr. Boss performed a hip-hop duet with Ellen DeGeneres — featuring him as a therapist in a sweater vest and her as his client — that would shape the rest of his career.
As a bubbly presence on TV who liked to wear a fedora and often broke into dance, Mr. Boss spent nearly a decade with “The Ellen DeGeneres Show” as D.J., guest host and, eventually, an executive producer. “I count on him to look over at and make silly jokes,” Ms. DeGeneres said in an episode this year, the show’s last. “He’s my pal; he’s my sidekick.”
In 2000, Boss graduated from Lee High School in Montgomery, Alabama, and studied dance performance at Southern Union State Community College in Wadley, Alabama, and Chapman University.
Boss first auditioned in 2007 for Season 3 of the show and appeared on the program. Unfortunately, twitch was not selected to be in the Top 20. He returned to audition again in Season 4 in 2008; he was chosen to compete in the Top 20 and was the runner-up after fellow hip-hop dancer Joshua Allen who won. During Season 4, he danced with Katee Shean to a Contemporary piece choreographed by Mia Michaels.
The dance was nominated for an Emmy for Choreography in the 61st Primetime Emmy Awards.
In season 5, Boss again appeared on So You Think You Can Dance with fellow season 4 contestant Katee Shean to perform their Emmy-nominated piece “Mercy,” choreographed by Mia Michaels. He was one of the 11 “All-Stars” for season 7. Twitch often was an All-Star in Seasons 7, 8, and 9 of So You Think You Can Dance, performing memorable routines, including the hip hop number “Outta Your Mind” with ballet dancer Alex Wong, which comedian Ellen DeGeneres reprised in Season 7’s finale. He was the team captain for “Team Street” in Season 12 of So You Think You Can Dance. He was announced as a permanent judge for the seventeenth season in 2022. He had an apparel line called Twitch Clothing.
I have to share my husband with the heaviest of hearts. Unfortunately, Stephen has left us,” Boss’ wife, Allison Holker Boss, 34, confirms to PEOPLE. “Stephen lit up every room he stepped into. He valued family, friends, and community above all else, and leading with love and the light was everything to him. He was the backbone of our family, the best husband and father, and an inspiration to his fans.
His final Instagram post on Monday showed him and Holker dancing in front of a Christmas tree and celebrating the holidays. Boss is survived by his wife, Allison, and children Zaia, 3, Maddox, 6, and Weslie, 14.
I genuinely hate writing about stories of people who lost their own life at their own hands because it seems more accessible than asking for help.
I struggle with it myself, asking for help because I depend on my daily personal care, and I find it humiliating to admit that I would need mental help.
But unfortunately, the world has never made it easy for people to get the service they deserve; most people believe that asking for it is a sign of weakness, but in reality, people should try and look at it as a sign of strength.
Having the strength to realize when help is needed should be considered positive, which means we choose ourselves and those who love us. In a statement on Wednesday, Ms. DeGeneres said she was “heartbroken” over the death, calling Mr. Boss “pure love and light.
Stephen Laurel Boss was born on Sept. 29, 1982, in Montgomery, Ala., to Connie Boss Alexander and Sandford Rose. He started dancing as a teenager and earned the nickname tWitch because he could not stop moving in school or church. People saw his joy in making TikTok dance with his lovely wife.
Dancing brought him joy and peace, but that was not enough to complete what probably made him feel alone. We can look happy and try to feel the happiness within ourselves, but no one, not even DJ twitch, knows how to handle the pressure of his life when the cameras are off.
The Memoir Of Ms. Butterfly 