Loud Mouth Brown Girl

I do believe that every person on this planet, needs some kind of spirituality, that grounds them when things get tough. I don’t believe that it’s my place to tell other people what to believe.

That being said, I am going to share what I believe, and you can take what works for you and ignore what does not.

I believe that many moons ago, there were ancient humans who lived on our earth. I believe their deeds, talents, and experiences were so important that today we refer to them as Gods.

There’s Hecate, Hera, Zeus, Thor, Aphrodite, Apollo, The Huntress, there are so many different ancient powers to call to, that I don’t believe that individually they would be anything, if at the time, they hadn’t been fighting each other.

Their battles were great because they were ancient warriors who didn’t believe in freedom as we do today, they didn’t believe in justice, the way that we do today. They were cruel, violent, and not as wide minded as we are today because they were and remain secular to the communities that they were born from.

Today we have a vast variety of legends and ancient heroes and heroines to pull from, all of us individually, have the power to contact our ancestors, but that doesn’t mean that we should.

Witches believe there is a fine line between life and the dead. We believe that we can talk to the dead, the problem isn’t talking to the dead, it’s believing that the signs and responses you get, are from those you can’t see anymore, without – I might add – simultaneously letting other people call you crazy.

“Magic is just science unexplained.” Science – or the word Scientist, came from the fact that a bunch of idiot men didn’t want to refer to women as Doctors and so they coined the term Scientist to mean Doctor and Artist.

Yeah, that shit. Women have been excluded from everything, even though we’re often better at finding solutions to large problems then men are.

I believe that women are finding that they no longer need to wait for permission to stand up for themselves and I think that’s beautiful. I think that if more women harnessed the power of their ancestors they would be capable of great things.

Now that I am feeling more like the person I want to be, instead of the person I have to be, just so that I can survive, I want to encourage more women who have been abused to come forward, to have their moment in the sun so to speak, and to share the lessons they’ve learned that helped them get where they are.

I want to spend my days and my nights knowing that the conversations I have on #StayLiftedSis, are conversations that will make an impact in the lives of the people who most need to hear them.

I believe that if there are Gods and Goddesses out there, they want us to be better than they were, I don’t think they want us going to war with each other every few centuries or decades. I don’t believe they want us to kill the most marginalized among us, in order for us to achieve some semblance of power over other people.

I do believe in Karma. I do believe in Dharma, I do believe that the Indian population who still believe in the ancient Gods are on to something. I believe many people around the world, have found different paths to the same kind of enlightenment, and I think that each of those people are doing the best they can in the corners of the world where they are.

I also believe many people around the world wake up choosing violence, and those folks are dangerous. They are unstable, and while they put up a good front, the mask only lasts so long.

I want to surround myself with people who may not always get it right, but always fucking try to do the work – at the bare God damned minimum.

Accept me as I am, meet me where I am at, and don’t pretend to be something you aren’t because you’re so busy protecting yourself that you’re stabbing those who love you in the back.

Two small requests. If you can’t meet me where I am at, then walk away, and understand when I decide that I can’t follow you, because following you means diverting from the path that I am destined to be on…again.

I’ve done that once. I chose a path that led me down the worst and darkest days of my life, and while I am still here to tell the tale that doesn’t mean that I am willing to let myself burn a second time, for another group of people that don’t care if I get hurt.

This isn’t me “Being a bitch,” it’s me setting a boundary line between what I am and am not willing to accept. It took me a long time to get here, to realize that I am allowed to set boundaries, that I am allowed to make the rules when it comes to how I am treated, and that other people are either going to have to fit in or fuck off.

I’m not always going to get along with everyone in my life, but I will always do my best to remain cordial, and to support the women in my community with everything I have.

Largely because I remember when I was the one in the community begging for help, being told “You’re requests are too heavy.”

I remember being left out, and I remember knowing the only thing that kept me sane was knowing my ancient guardians are here with me, watching over me and nudging me in the direction we all know I really do want to go.

I’d rather folks believe that I am crazy, for believing in ancient beings that no longer have resonance with other folks here, then ignore my gut and pretend that what I feel inside isn’t true to my heart.

One of the reasons I feel so comfortable having a faith that is different than what I was brought up with, is because I have supportive family members who don’t really care what I believe, so long as my beliefs don’t cause harm to those around me.

I do my best, but sometimes I fuck up too. That’s part of being human, but what’s not part of being human – I don’t think anyways – is hurting others just so you can feel something. Superior, happy, whatever it is when you hurt folks.

I know there are a lot of people who wish I had stayed quiet about what was done to me, but between myself and my higher power, I learned that staying quiet was only keeping me sick.

I was depressed, angry, frustrated, anxious, scared, sad, miserable, because I couldn’t talk about what was happening to me. And so I took it out on the people around me, because I didn’t know how to behave.

I was like a bouncing cupboard, locked on the outside, but bouncing with energy because I wasn’t allowed to talk about what was being done to me.

Even the few good memories I have, are tainted by the fact that my abusers managed to infiltrate the small good moments of my life, just because they could.

I remember walking into a store run by a beautiful Muslim family, they had this long headscarf and coat that I was allowed to try on, and as I stood in this room at the back of the store, covered in hand made antique mirrors, I felt more like myself than I’d ever felt in my entire life.

My head was covered, my body from my neck to my toes were covered, and I felt like I could really see myself, for the first time in my fucking life.

And do you know why? Because once you take away the clothes, the makeup, the hair, all that’s left are the eyes, all that’s left are the nose and the mouth.

And once I stared into my eyes, for the first time in years, I realized that my ancient ones are still with me. Guiding me, pushing me, through their journals, their stories, their existence, I am here, as a reminder that they existed.

So why the fuck wouldn’t I keep going when all hell breaks lose? That’s when it’s all the more important to keep going.

Sending all my love,