An Imbalanced Sacral Chakra

Honestly, I have all this stuff I want to post, but I’ve been in a rut. At first I didn’t know how I was feeling, I just knew I felt funny near my naval. An emptiness, a void, a bad feeling. I could tell this was a problem of the energetic body and was able to identify the culprit, an imbalanced sacral chakra.
The sacral chakra is feminine, it’s element is water, it’s in charge of creativity, emotions, relationships, sexuality and intimacy. My ability to create, my energy levels, my feelings of intimacy are fucked up thanks to my ex. Finding out that Mick Jagger was holding me hostage, while vacationing with his new girlfriend added a new level of betrayal. Like he really just wanted to hurt me, when I saved his life and genuinely loved him. He went as far as setting my job up to destroy my finances. It takes a lot to hurt my feelings, but that did it.

I have trust issues, especially after being stalked by Genc Jakupi for half a decade. What hurts is I confided in Mick regarding it all, telling him I didn’t want a relationship. Instead he rushed me, knowing I idolized him. I pushed myself to trust him, worked really hard to open up, took a risk, and he wasn’t worth it. He left me more traumatized and it was just unnecessary. I wanted to part ways amicably, instead he refused to give me what he owed, and tried to incarcerate me. He chose to damage me further, mentally and emotionally, instead of letting us both move on in a respectful manner. After I told him he should find someone who suits him.
He misses me, because I’m a good girlfriend. He let everyone get in his ear, instead of believing in me, and punished me for being a good person. I would never do that. He’s the most toxic boyfriend I’ve ever had. We went from fiancés to divorced, no marriage, but I’m the one wielding a knife on Hackney Diamonds. I know the album and kicking his kids out of the will is his way of making amends, but he left no room for me to ever trust him again, even as a friend. He left no stone unturned in betraying me. There was nothing he wasn’t willing to do to cause me pain. That’s what hurts. I wouldn’t do a fraction of that stuff to him. I didn’t. I saved his racist family after they treated me terribly, to spare him pain. He was my best friend. I lost someone I loved and the person I admired all my life.

Now I have to pop out these divine children, so the world doesn’t end and I don’t even trust anyone. It’s just so much pressure. I don’t even want to try to love again right now. There’s so much ill intent and evil in this world, it’s disgusting.

Today I feel better after doing a sacral cleanse yoga routine. I was able to process my feelings, reaffirming that if someone doesn’t treat me with respect I’m out. Our society has created and enabled toxic masculinity. We really need to reconnect these “men” with their emotions, this behavior is not okay. Mick is a product of his environment. Without thinking too much about it, what does being a man mean to you? What traits and behaviors are qualifiers of being a man? Write it down, look it over, is our view healthy, a safe space for others? Via: Mairi_Design_Studio & Cosmic Ajna

Reaching Financial Abundance 2023

As recession looms and inflation rises, financial stability is more important than ever. Here are some ways to not only make ends meet, but find comfort. Personally I like to remain positive, miracles happen everyday. I know not everyone is going to have a rockstar ex boyfriend pay their student loan, so it seems easy for me to say. That’s fair, however I also had my former employers (Genc & Binn Jakupi) stalk me for half a decade. Five years of two psychos I never dated trying to leave me in financial despair. Also my stepdad was paying practitioners to prevent me from succeeding. So yeah, if I can enter 2023 debt free, money in the bank and generational wealth on the way, you can find peace too. I never gave up, never stopped believing, only built a stronger bond with the almighty GOD and did the spiritual work.

Energy is everything. Money is energy. I not only cleared my energy by removing negative nouns (people, places and things) from my life, I prayed, cast spells for abundance, healed the trauma of generations/epigenetic thinking surrounding money, healed/aligned my chakras and stayed a kind human being, because you always reap what you sow.

One of the hardest things to do was break out of a scarcity mindset. Thanks to my aforementioned DNA and abusive experiences, this was no small fucking feat. Which made one of the most important rules of money difficult: you have to spend it to make it. You need to believe it will all come back to you. Whereas holding onto every penny leaves you in a scarcity mindset. Our thoughts are powerful, that type of thinking will leave you manifesting lack. While remaining disciplined make sure you do something once a week to treat yourself. It doesn’t have to be big, maybe a Groupon massage, maybe something luxurious you use Afterpay or Klarna for, maybe a cute dinner, a pair of shoes a bag, something! Also save at least 10% of your checks. Balance is key.

If you are going to cast a spell, make sure you align with that vibration and co-create. Meaning the actions have to match. You can’t do a spell to increase finances, then spend a shit ton of money. The energy and actions don’t align, the spell will fail. I hope this finds you will. Happy New Year! Remember there’s enough to go around. Via: Amy’s Budgeting

Ronnie And Stubby Sally Wood Are Racists

Ronnie Wood and his basic white Karen wife, Sally Stubby Wood, aided in a hate crime. Therefore they’ll be going to prison. This is why paper trailing everything with time stamps is crucial. Duh. I first started complaining about Ed Westwick in February 2020 on my Facebook. He had and still has a crush on me, but he’s a toxic male who degrades women. People come to me when they’re truly evil and karma must be met. I retract what I said about him, I believe he 100% assaulted some girls and got away with it. That’s why he’s met his fate. Times up.

At the time he was dating social climbing, South African racist Tamara whatever her name is. Having no self respect, Tamara started copying me to get Ed to fall in love. Taking content from my blog, then doing an exact shoot of a picture I took days after my posting it. Speaking of white women who copy black women, this is the same picture the Kardashian Jenner West coven trolled me on. Funny, cause now Kim & Khloe are trying to be my body type, skinny, tall, big boobs, big butt. I fucking bodied it naturally. I’m saying this because they all came for me first. I returned the favor as they deserved, since Kim big boned West broke Marilyn’s dress. I digress.

Tamara with her barely there ass, didn’t come close and has since deleted this photo from her social media. This is why I document everything. Evidence. Ronnie and Sally Wood, after seeing I was being racially profiled, by Ed hooked him up. But not Catherine the fan being stalked by Melanie’s ugly ass (read: Single White FeMel(anie Hamrick), because they’re racists who profit off of black culture.

Giving him VIP access on their last tour ever. Not only did I document him on my social media, I have multiple post here about him. He then carried on with his obsession of me by doing a film with Madalina Ghenea (actually I still have evidence to post, I have to write that article asap!). The girl who came to stalk me at Miss Lily’s, because she dated Genc Jakupi who dumped her so his brother wouldn’t date me.
Below you’ll see Jordan Barrett’s now deleted photo, angry that I liked W (Westwick in Gossip Girl style). I didn’t, at this point I found him weird. Also if I did it’s none of Jordan’s business, but like most men in my story he sees women as property. He’s an entitled, toxic, white boy (because none of them are men, just boys in mens bodies). Even getting his irrelevant friend to post. A bunch of soulless losers.

Ronnie and Sally did this on top of aiding Melanie ugly, talentless, Hamrick in a felony, to cover up a murder (read Melanie Hamrick Still Trying To Be Lwren Scott every picture is evidence of you trying to the court system). They did this when Mick Jagger (the pedophile psychopath) stole my money, was going to let me die and abused me. Which he has a history of doing (Marsha Hunt, Marianne Faithfull, Jerry Hall etc….). All parties obstructing justice, because I’m a black woman they thought it okay to treat me as subhuman. A slave. All documented, especially when Melanie told me I was powerless, because I’m black. What everyone thought were incessant posts, was me time stamping and gathering evidence and damages for court. As time moved on it’s just amassed. Before I had straws now I have concrete, undeniable evidence, over the duration of years. You’re fucked. There are so many crimes committed my head is spinning. I could also get the Kardashian’s charged with stalking, harassment and a hate crime. That’s how you play Dallas. Being nice is over. Enjoy your free time.
Sally Wood is not hot (she has no right ever coming for me looking like that) she’s gonna learn her place. In jail, as someone’s bottom bitch. Let the record show I was at first kind (read Why Ronnie Woods Family Is My Favorite thanks for the evidence Jo Wood) and they continued to bully a PTSD, domestic violence, hate crime victim. Nothing justifies your actions. Karma has come. If you go to war with a divine, do remember, you won’t survive. Athena. Via: Hello Magazine

Me Keeping My Promises

Me dancing on my enemies graves as promised.

Oh me, oh my, everything is going better than planned. Evidence is just falling right into my lap. Damn it feels good to be divine, beautiful, a future multi-billionaire. Thanks Hollywood, but I couldn’t have done it without Melanie ugly, untalented, weirdo, uneven face Hamrick. Her felonies have blessed me an infinite amount. God, the almighty is good. We’ve only just begun. A star, a goddess, a queen witch is born. Remember everyone, karma always comes, do no harm, but take no shit. You deserve to be respected and choose who and what you wanna be. Xoxo Athena. Via: Exultant.Motifs

The Elusive Anna Wintour

“Anna Wintour lives next door you know,” Kelsey, the big haired, big breasted, stout cashier informed me.
“Shut. Up. You’re lying!” I replied astounded. The Anna Wintour, of Vogue Magazine, the first and last word in fashion.
“Yeah, I’ve seen her a few times and she always just stares at me disapprovingly. I feel so self-conscious every time I see her, she always looks me up and down frowning.”
Noted, my level of anxiety skyrocketing at the prospect of being on the receiving end of a fashion don’t. She’s notorious for her unyielding critics, but I hadn’t figured it transferred off glossy print pages to pedestrians. The Devil Wears Prada scene where Meryl Streep drags Anne Hathaway (over a cerulean sweater) was a real moment for Kelsey, a look saying it all. The scars remain, heard in her intonation as she told the story.

One.
The first time I saw Anna Wintour I was heading over to Melvin’s Cafe from the main restaurant, Miss Lily’s. There she was standing on the sidewalk as I walked in her direction. Wearing a white floral dress and signature shades. Rocking one dangling gold double triangular earring, a maroon skirt with slits on both sides, and a sleeveless black and white vertical striped shirt, that buttoned downed to tie at the bottom, a gold necklace, that had pendulum shaped pieces hanging, I freak out internally. Upon seeing me she moves back in surprise. It was a wordless exchange, her face conveying shock. Not only because she approved of my look, from bantu knots to heeled booties, but that I worked at such an establishment. Unable to control my facial expressions my eyes widen with joy. A sign of the future friendship I always imagined.
Pulling the door to enter Melvin’s, I take one last look in case I never get the chance again. A man exits his vehicle, handing her a package. Taking it, she enters her townhouse.
“OMG,” I screech seeing Kelsey behind the juice bar counter, “I just saw Anna Wintour!”
“You did? Told you. Did she give you a disgusted look?”
“NO! She liked my outfit!!”
“Oh, wow,” Kelsey says disheartened. In all fairness Kelsey in her Hawaiian shirts, loose fitting clothes and plain face made no effort, which is part of why she was relegated to the cafe as a cashier. She didn’t have the look, sexy, colorful, skimpy, to be a server at Miss Lily’s; the hierarchy was real. Despite not seeing eye to eye, the owners and Anna agreed on Kelsey’s ranking.

Two.
I’m in a rush. Although my tardiness had no consequences, I hate being even close to late. However, I ran out of eyeliner as I was about to start my second lid! Meaning I had to make a pitstop at CVS, where the line was too damn long. It’s the dead of winter, the sidewalks are runways with room for only one person to walk at a time. A strip of dry pavement is exposed, both sides covered by frozen, mounted snow and garbage. Lo and behold, as I’m about to traverse this obstacle course, Anna Wintour is pacing back and forth at the end of this makeshift runway. As if breaking in these over the thigh, leather, heeled boots weren’t enough, I have to walk for Anna without busting my ass. Not only would I be humiliated, I’d have to walk pass her afterwards.
Pairing another floral dress with a white jacket, cellphone to ear, shades on, Anna senses me and what does she do? She fucking stops to judge. Standing at the almost end of this runway, she faces me. Glaring. My heart literally seizes, then pounds against my ribcage. Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy? Only. Fucking. Me. Thanking God for throwing on my oversized Chloé sunglasses on a sunless day (had she seen my uneven eye makeup I’d be mortified), I walk, having no choice.
Balmain fur over a red dress that connects in the front, with a cutout back and sides, I catwalk for her eyes only. She stares. Starts to smile. Catches herself. Goes back to stoic. Then as a gesture of her approval, she makes room for me to get by, sans stepping on piled snow. Had I failed she would not have done so. This is a moment I’ll cherish forever. An actual highlight of my life, unlike some, I didn’t have to pay a million bucks for Anna’s validation (hi Kanye).

Three.
Halloween 2019. I finally left the apartment Genc Jakupi setup to have me spied on. I hated everyone there, especially lying, delusional, talentless Mallory, the girl I sublet from. His former The Box employee. Mallory who got us temporarily evicted, spending our rent money on a music video she made for Youtube. Had I not gotten word, we would have come home to locked doors the next day. She owed $5000. I made it so we could take what we needed while the issue was resolved. I digress.
Celebrating the thinning veil, Nani and I are dressed up. She’s an angel and I’m Dominque Deveraux. A wig, a skin tight, cream dress, backless, braless, a crossed string drawing attention to my spine. Walking down the street I see a woman dressed as Anna.
“Yes bitch, you’re Anna Wintour! You look major honey, major down to the bob. Work bitch, workkkkkk, yasss. You nailed it!”
The woman laughs, gripping my arm and tells me, “You look beautiful, absolutely beautiful,” she squeezes my arm while appraising me.
“See Anna I told you going out would be fun,” a scantily clad brunette says emerging from their shared cab, a blonde lady following behind her.
“Wait what! OMG you’re actually Anna Wintour!!! Omg stop!!!! I can’t!”
My eyes are bulging in pure disbelief. She’s literally wearing a bobbed wig, dressed up as herself. The color two fractions lighter than her own, her attire a dress and a dark caramel coat. She touches me a few more times, laughing her ass off before entering Indochine. Third times a charm, we were meant to be.

So I thought. Now I realize she tokenizes us, or is she just evil? Meeting her in person, meeting her standards, then seeing her allow the gutter rats known as the Kardashian Jenner West family to lower her standards. A family built on sex tapes, black magic, lies, an empire made of cards, no talent, no style, Kanye paid for her to care. To hear and experience her racism…there’s a great chasm between the two and I’m trying to fill the void.
Wasn’t L’wren Scott your friend? Why were you aiding big faced, small brained, ungrateful, mediocre, jail and hell bound Georgia May Jagger?
All I know is it’ll be handled accordingly. I’ll love those moments forever, then again I adored all the people who are now enemies. Via: Miss Lily’s





Females Faking For Men

Female humans will put in headphones, pretend to have a boyfriend, pretend to speak another language, ignore you, start a movement #MeToo, cross the street, sue you and put you in prison (Mick Jagger, Chris Evans, Genc & Binn Jakupi), to avoid unwanted male attention. Fuck off means fuck off, females shouldn’t have to go through such lengths to tell you I’m not interested and I’m not here for you. What else am I missing? Artist: SoFlyTaxidermy

Generational Karma And Curses

How many times have I almost hit my head and died?
-On my grandmother’s death anniversary, almost cracking my head against the rocks at the beach.
-When I took a Seroquel bar from a stranger. She was right advising me to break it into eight pieces “…this stuff can kill you.” I took an eighth, slept walked (which I’ve never done before or since), turned the stove on, placed an empty pot next to it, and on my way back to my bedroom passed out in my stepdad’s room. My head just missing the edge of his wooden bed frame. Since I fell from standing my skull would’ve cracked. I woke up encircled by faces looking down at me, everyone thought I died.
-In gym when Sebastian C. (who looks exactly like Will Smith, but in that moment pulled a Michael Jordan) competitive af in Strasser Ball (which was really European handball, but our hot gym teacher gave it his name), slammed me into the ground from standing. Literally I saw stars, cartoon depictions of head injuries are completely accurate. The nurse wanted his blood, she cursed him the fuck out. In his defense we were all competitive, sore winners and losers.
-When I was wasted and just missed slamming my head on a large paint bucket from standing.
-At Blue Smoke, in the attic I slammed my head on the thick metal piping and had to be escorted down after taking a minute to gather my bearings.

”Something is trying to kill me,” I said to myself and others.

My grandfather was a very evil and feared man, he wasn’t someone to fuck with. I barely knew him, only meeting him twice in my life that I can remember, if that. He was a domestic abuser, beating his women including my beloved grandmother whose right earlobe he split (for years I always lost my right earring and only a few back did I connect the dots. It’s her telling me she’s here). My grandmother who half my tattoos are dedicated to, with a third coming, was his second wife. His first wife was Linda.

My grandfather would abuse her often; she made a deal with the neighbors if she bangs on the wall call the cops. Except every time the cops came she’d cover for him, then he’d threatened them. One night Linda banged and banged and banged, but they didn’t make the call and she died. He pushed her so hard into the glass table her skull cracked. Fearing jail he left immediately seeking out the help of Voodoo Mary, selling his soul in exchange of escaping prison. When he returned, when the ambulance came, they ruled it an accident, that she tripped and fell. He got away with it in this world, but not the next.

People with high sexual energy are often healers, which is why after telling this story a million times, replaying it in my head, it didn’t make sense until I told Cara Delevingne. Everything clicked.

The domestic violence I’ve been going through, nobody helping (one person helped me astrally when I didn’t know I needed it, nor did I ask, I’m forever grateful), almost dying, I was paying for what my grandfather did to Linda!!!! That’s why I was always experiencing near death head injuries, just like Linda. Had I not figured it out I wouldn’t have escaped, finding myself in another bad situation, because generational karma and curses are real. That’s why the cards kept saying turn to your ancestors! The story of my grandfather was the key! Now I’m free.
Ancestry is important, what we do we pass down until it’s broken, or healed. Had I not resolved this it would’ve kept happening, it would’ve passed down to my kids epigenetically. Which this world can’t afford, each possessing the powers to save it. I can’t believe it took me this long.

After figuring it out I connected to her, she wants her story told. She wants people to know what happened to her, that it wasn’t fair. The first page of my book will be Linda’s story. I am so sorry, I’m sorry for what he did to you. You deserved better, women deserve better. He doesn’t get to take your peace in both worlds. Thank you. You are a hero, because of you a lot of abusive men are going to be exposed so they don’t hurt anyone again. I don’t know you, but I love you. Everyone will know your truth. I will dedicate my life to fighting domestic violence, I promise you this. And as for those reading it now, if there is a reoccurring negativity in your life look for the pattern then look to your ancestors. You may be reliving their karmic debt. Resolve it for yourself, for your offspring. Artist: Melanins Vibe Podcast

My History With Terell Ephron AKA Asap Relli

Just perplexed. As you know I’ve been working smart not hard, spending two plus years documenting evil Hollywood’s cruelty towards me. Shout out to my nigga Mr. Marino, RIP. In my first legal battle (against Blue Smoke) he taught me paper trail everything. At one point my sister and I spent every day in his law office on the Upper West Side, Marino & Veneziano in elementary school. Mostly we’d sit in the basement watching Full House episodes. My stepdad worked for him in renovations and construction. Other times on shorter visits we’d sit upstairs like clients, listening to the attorneys around us, flipping through dark mahogany binders with large rings, filled with legal jargon. I know those times taught me the UWS over anything else in New York City architecture, to Howard Roark’s chagrin. The Fountainhead protagonist, a hero of mine, would much prefer Hudson Yards, or Via West 57th. I think those days also instilled a love of law, now that I’m writing this. Wow.
His advice changed my life on numerous occasions.

On July 3rd 2021 I wrote on ASAP Rocky’s now archived post regarding knowing mutual people. Naomi Campbell lied on behalf of Genc & Binn Jakupi, my former Miss Lily’s bosses, disseminating false information about myself. Pretending to know me she spread malicious lies that I was a call girl, older than my 33 years, didn’t grow up on the Upper East Side and God knows what else (read Genc Jakupi, Naomi Campbell & Jordan Barrett (2/2) & Karma Alway’s Comes Featuring Miss Lily’s). Terell Ephron aka ASAP Relli, was one of the names I mentioned in my comment above, under my instagram name itsjqboo. He lived in the projects of Yorkville, The Issacs, which my friends and I walked avenues down to hang out in.

Julia Fox wasn’t lying when she said from penthouses to projects, the cool kids hung out with the other cool kids no matter where, in search of endless adventure.

I first met Terell in tenth grade when he came up to us in front of Delizia 92, one of the many pizza places we frequented. He had on circular glasses like Arthur and the most outlandish, superfluously large, and bright orange bubble jacket any of us had ever seen. He handed us a business card with a dime bag stapled to the back, proffering himself as our new drug dealer. He was nerdy af, but nice, as he became more successful his swagger and ridiculousness increased. Long story short he was about fuckery. Like truly the worst drug dealer I’ve ever had to this day. I have flashbacks of him wasting hours, upon hours of our time, waiting as he told countless lies. At first he was great, then he started smoking weed, turning into those melted Truth commercial couch creatures.
“Terell where are you? I’m here.”
“Yo what’s goody? I’m on the corner.”
“No you’re not, because I’m on the corner looking at all four corners and I don’t see you.”
“Hahahaha,” he laughed in his monotonous stoner idiot voice “Ight, I’m coming now.”

30 minutes (to an hour sometimes) later…

After repeating this cycle in a series of phone calls, from multiple people, he finally appears brushing his waves obsessively. He had an unrequited crush on Paulina, my amazonian Polish friend, try as he might she didn’t like him. Until that summer hanging out at Nick’s (the Soho House Killer) penthouse apartment he hooked up with my other friend Lauren, a beautiful black girl. This prompted Paulina to do the same. Terell caused a civil war, all of us siding with Lauren until it was resolved.
“Why did you bleep his bleep?” Lauren asked.
“Honestly, because I was jealous,” Paulina answered.

Wowwwwwwwwwwwwww……what do you even say to that? It was fucked up, but her candor was major. Amends made, Terell and Lauren carried on with him wasting her time and her acting insane. Dickmatizism is a real addiction. Her entire day revolved around this nigga, singing to his window from across the street while we looked on, stalking him and ducking behind cars when we inevitable found him with somebody else, him refusing to commit, pregnancy scares, then the college years her refusing to commit, becoming a lesbian…ENOUGH, ENOUGH!

Like honestly you guys don’t even understand. Just reminiscing I hate them both, but especially him. This is why we made her steal weed from him. Terell is a central figure of my youth, I ran into him last summer.

When Lauren showed us the exclusive Purple Swag video at Barnes & Noble we didn’t believe Asap was a genuine artist, despite Lauren’s pleas, because of Terell. So why Asap Rocky would try to murder him four months after I told him I knew him boggles my fucking mind. Did you do it to disrespect me? To spite me? Because you’re stupid as fuck or something? You’re hanging on by my love of Rihanna. I’m the only divine, you’ve seen my work. I’m wrathful, yet I’ve let many of your antics with Kanye slide because of Rihanna. Whatever you did to him, you better fucking fix it. Murder…? Someone I know? I’ve shown you nothing but kindness. Then for these insolent uneducated street rats to say he’s snitching, because you betrayed him and tried to kill him, shut the fuck up. Are you fucking insane boy? I’ll be posting about Terell and the Soho House Killer tomorrow. Via: Asap Rocky Instagram

Being Safe Is My Priority

After my last experience safety is literally my love language. Being attacked by someone who claims to love you in the most malicious way has altered what I seek in a relationship significantly. On one hand I’m too traumatized to want one, I’m literally scared of being abused again and just want my freedom. On the other hand I just want to feel safe and am dying to find my twin to be it, plus true love is all I want. Seeing as I get confused, that I’m having episodes, having the universe use my vacation as the confirmation takes away a lot of stress. I have never been scared of the person I was dating until Mick Jagger. I never want to see him again, or speak to him again, putting him away for the remainder of his years is fated. When he dies the world will be a safer place. He hasn’t just groomed women to see his abuse and torture as acceptable, he’s groomed the world. The level of cruelty he possess knows no end. Ronnie Wood is also a domestic abuser and I’ll be sharing it later, no wonder he’s a spineless follower. Both of them including Genc (I never even dated you fucking freak) & Binn Jakupi will pay. These men are boys who abuse women and make the world unsafe for us to be humans with our own desires. That ends with me. Which of these is most important to you? Via: Doodled Wellness

Trauma Changes You Biologically

Epigenetically unhealed trauma passes down through generations. Abuse is not a joke, especially when people intentionally inflict it like Mick Jagger, Genc Jakupi and Binn Jakupi. I could add a lot of people who aided in abusing me to this list, like the Kardashian Jenner West coven and friends, exposing all of you publicly is all I need to contribute. What the universe has planned is huge, all I have to do is sit back and watch. The way you all fall with them, the deaths, the misfortune, it’s crazy. No survivors, the power is going back to the public, everyone is going to learn their humbled place before hell.

Until I started having my crippling episodes I didn’t fully comprehend the lack of control I’d have, it’s scary. I become a different person, trying to stop spiraling, trying to survive, looking for safety. This is why I’ve decided to press charges against Mick, the fact that he thinks it’s okay to torture other human beings and call it love. To groom people to his abuse, he belongs behind bars. It’s not fair I’ve been inflicted with a disorder, I intend to hold everyone accountable and be compensated. I ignored the red flags due to a toxic upbringing, which is why speaking up for me is hard sometimes. I don’t want to hurt other people. I worked hard to heal from family trauma and now I have to heal from this. I’m optimistic and if you’re going through trauma you should be too. We’re all going to get through this, to the best of our ability. It’s not your fault, believe in yourself and keep pushing forward. You deserve a happy ending. In what ways does your trauma affect you? How you see the world? How you interact with others? Your love life? Your parenting? Via: Alex March Energy