The people that see, know your worth

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Maybe you’re still waiting because not all eyes have been trained to see you.

God has hidden you behind the cleft of the rock with his hand.

You weren’t abandoned, you weren’t forgotten. You aren’t unworthy, you aren’t rejected.

Even with eyes closed, they could feel your light beneath darkened eyelids. They hated you, and wanted to be with you at the same time.

You were a heat they never felt before, you harassed their demons, made them uncomfortable. In your presence, they had to look at themselves and they hated what they saw. You were a reminder of what they wanted but couldn’t be.

They said you were too happy, they smirked secretly at your challenges. It was never about having you. It was always about keeping you from everyone else, in case someone should recognize you, know your worth, and question what you were doing there. In case they tried to set you free.

But only you can set yourself free.

So here you are caged, with everyone on the outside clamouring to see you, but you don’t realize it. You can’t see yourself.

Maybe you’re still waiting because you’re not ready for joy. It seems silly to say. Of course, I’m ready, but maybe pain has become so familiar that happiness scares you.

Maybe you don’t yet realize your rarity, your infinite value.

Maybe you’ll accept the lowest bidder. Maybe you’ll rob yourself of all that you are, of all that you can be.

Maybe you still believe all the ugly things they’ve told you. Maybe you’re still healing, but in your healing, you’re still worthy.

Maybe you’re still waiting because not everyone has eyes to see you.

I know it feels like a lifetime. It feels like you’re floating in the abyss of despair. I know you keep crying out, when will it be my time? Haven’t I gone through enough?

I know you’re tired of hearing that you need to hold on. I know you’re tired of being patient.

So I’m not going to ask any more of that from you.

You see, not everyone has eyes to see you.

~Arlene~

Originally published on Medium-Assemblage

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A tale of love addiction

I’m not in love but this shit is still going to hurt like hell.

You didn’t know that I never live in this world, my head is in the clouds and I come down once in a while to pretend to live, to pretend to belong.

You didn’t know that I live in addiction, love addiction that I fight with, grips my brain and squeezes every matter out of it.

Loops in my head after two seconds with a man I connect with, change my life, wife, knife zombies, stay with you until the end of the world.

I’m not in love but this shit is going to hurt like hell when I can feel your hands over me, the same ones I force you to rip my heart through my chest with.

Drain that blood until I’m sick, that’s how I like it.

Then I crawl and gather guts and bones to create myself again with.

So, that’s why I don’t do casual very well. My light, being, force, wild beast of a feral woman scavenges.

She scavenges hearts and feeds on pieces. I keep her on an iron chain, scrapping, choke, collar, rope but sometimes she suffers through the pain and burrows in the dark wet shadow of the closest heart that feeds her scraps.

And there I am, left to find her. Months, years after, she starves there. I don’t recognize her, I only hear her deep beast cry, I try to lure her back to me.

She wasn’t even in love but that shit still hurt like hell.

She’s a love addict, they spit in her face, piss in her hair then rub it in telling her it’s not real. She’s delusional, crazy, rabid, seething.

Poor girl, I watch her dance in euphoria, throwing her clothes to the wild, then craving the blood of his heart, his love that he throws her in pieces. Nevertheless, she’s hooked, then dependent, drugged up on fake love, then pulling back, in bed for days, sweats, nausea, the bile of withdrawal into relapse.

They tell her it’s not a real thing, so she stops talking about it, she just feels it and knows this shit hurts likes hell, but she’s always made it through.

A little more empty, brick wall, fence, barb wire, fortress around herself. Cold, they say she is cold.

And here I am always trying to save her, trying to chisel away at her walls before she is gone. So you see, we are both, never really here.

We don’t do casual anything very well. We are intense, bring down heaven, raise hell women who are bearers, protectors, gatekeepers of warrior hearts in a world that is darkening.

We’re not in love but this shit is still going to hurt like hell. Our love is meant to encompass something bigger, but here we are, the irony of fighting this love addiction.

Thanks for reading,

~Arlene~


It’s a strange thing to be aware of a supposed problem you have but being on the slowest road to recovery. Sometimes I feel like I’m watching myself in slow motion. What is a girl to do? Write.

This piece was originally published on Mediums publication the Assemblage.

You can help soothe the transition through frequent communication.

Love takes a chance at loss. 

Love is a story about loss.

Love understands that some of its losses are heart wrenching, while others bring the joy of something new.

Making a change to motherhood is a loss of a life you previously identified with. 

Making a change from only having to worry about yourself to that of a spouse or family is a loss of independent decision making.

Though we celebrate these new beginnings, sometimes we feel guilty in seemingly happy moments because we are mourning the things that once were.

You often go through these emotions alone, how can you put in to words that one of the happiest moments of your life is also one of the scariest or even eerily sad? 

You’ve never had to be this version of yourself. You don’t even know what this version of yourself looks like. What if you suck at it?

You’re allowed to have those thoughts. You’re allowed to mourn. You’re allowed to feel a sense loss. All of these life experiences the old, the new; they all contribute in developing the person you are right now. They don’t diminish the excitement of the new experiences. No, they help you to appreciate them more fully.

Love is an action you chose to step forward in, though uncertain, not a feeling to stay stagnant through.

Love isn’t about us at all, but we make it more about ourselves than we know.

We tell ourselves it’s about how much positive emotion we can pour into someone. It’s about how much of ourselves we can give to them, about the sacrifices we’ve made, because we want them to feel good, and — we want to feel good.

It’s a measuring tool used, so that one day we can calculate the amount of pain, hurt, or suffering we’re allowed when they disappoint or leave us.

Let me see, I showed you this amount of love, so I’m justified in harbouring this amount of resentment.

Love keeps no score.

Love takes a chance at loss.

Love says even if I only have a minute, week, or year with you it’s worth it.

I want to take a chance at life with you through the joys, and miseries. I’m willing to see the ugliest side of you, and I’m willing to let you see the ugliest side of me. 

The person you met, the person you married, the child you birth isn’t going to be the same forever.

They will probably radically disappoint you at least once in your life, if you’re lucky enough.

You will lose the person you once knew to change, but you can help save your relationship by trying to understand their thoughts and feelings through frequent communication. In this way you won’t wake up to find a total stranger, but you’ll be aware of the shift happening within them.

The key to not growing apart from each other is having conversations about what’s going on in your head.

The late best selling authour Myles Munroe, spoke about the dangers of having a reason for loving someone. The minute you say I love you because, you put conditions and expectations on the person. It’s almost a guaranteed recipe for disaster, the moment they don’t fulfill your requirements you start feeling like, I dunno it’s just not the same anymore, you know? Admiring traits about a person is different than admiring what they can do for you, or how they make you feel.

You should love because you made a conscious decision.

You should love because that specific person was created and there is no one else like them in the world.

You should love in such a way that the person you love feels free- Thich Nhat Hanh

It’s Not About The Cheesecake 

I was having lunch at my place one weekend, and a good friend of mine was driving into town for a visit.

She came up to my apartment proudly announcing that she made my favourite; cheesecake.

“Great” I said, “let’s put it in the fridge, I don’t know if I’ll have a piece because I’m trying to go vegan.”

She abruptly had somewhat of a meltdown about my new found hipster vegan ways, and inability to eat the cheesecake.

At the time I couldn’t understand what the big deal was, but we’ve since frequently talked about the incident combing through our different emotions. It wasn’t until years later that I was able to understand how she felt- I’m vegetarian now by the way.

It wasn’t about trying to be vegan or not eating the cheesecake per se that upset her. It was the fact that all of the changes I was going through seemed sudden. There was no transition from thought, idea to action. It left her feeling like a stranger in my life, for someone she talked to almost every day.

It seemed like such a small issue but this is what happens in our relations. 

They go hand in hand.

Your partner may not tell you how they feel, and you may not be open to hear what they have to say without casting judgement; youmay not accept what they say, or you may not validate what they say, which then perpetuates the cycle of growing apart.

Communication, active communication is a loss. You have to forget about what you’re thinking in your head, forget about the distractions around and concentrate. You don’t have to agree with what they’re saying, you just have to listen, actively listen. That’s hard work.

Love doesn’t coerce.

Love doesn’t manipulate.

Love doesn’t stop when it faces loss. Loss could come in the form of death or illness. Loss could come in the form of the person changing. Loss could come in the form of the person making different life choices than you wanted for them. Loss could come in the form of physical space or distance.

When you love, you say. I choose to love you for the time I have with you, whether a minute, day, or year. 

We may grow apart, but that’s not want I want. I’ll be open about what I’m feeling and receptive to yours.

Life will bring adversity and break us repeatedly. I want to go through those adversities being close to you. 

I don’t think that as humans we are completely 100 percent capable of loving unconditionally. I think we strive for it, and want to believe that we can. That’s what makes romance, that’s how we really learn selflessness. We want to spend the rest of our lives trying to give this person, show this person, love.

Whether you’re a Mother, lover, or wife. If you’re not willing to suffer loss then love isn’t for you. You can help soothe the transition through frequent communication.

Love is a risk, a risk worth taking, and I’m so sorry that you’ve suffered loss — no buts.