Hustle more Struggle less

Hustle more Struggle less

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I’ve never wanted to see my mom or siblings struggle. My moms still struggling and I know I have the power to change her life. Yes she does too, but honestly, her focus isn’t on changing her life. It’s about “souls”. *sigh. It’s always been about souls. Sometimes I just want to have a mother-daughter talk.

My vision of life is so far past living paycheck to paycheck. Yes my vision and goals my seem outlandish to most, but it’s a good thing you don’t have to work toward it… I do. 

Not many know the struggle of this preacher’s daughter. The shit that I’ve gone through is nothing like you would think it would be. So that’s why I hustle harder and harder. -RealityOfAPreachersDaughter

Was having a good Morning until…

Was having a good Morning until…

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He called Got damnit. I don’t have the time, energy or patience to deal with his fuckery. I’ve tried to many times with him and I can’t right now. I don’t want to. He stresses me the fuck out. He’s not a father he’s a leach that sucks you dry from life until you can’t even function. 

I haven’t listened to the voicemail yet. I don’t even know how the fuck he got my damn number. My siblings said they didn’t give it to him.  Who the hell did???? Nobody has my number! 

This is some bullshit. I better write and create some art before I let this consume me today. Look ignorant ass people… don’t give out people’s numbers without their consent got damnit! -RealityOfAPreachersDaughter

I apologize in advance

I apologize in advance

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I’ve heard that people are utterly disgusted by people blowing their nose, and I can understand that.😐

But damnit, it’s allergy season, So I apologize in advance for all the nose blowing I’ll be doing for the next few weeks. I’d rather you hear my blowing my nose than watching snot run down my face! 🤧🤧🤧#notreallysorry #RealityOfAPreachersDaughter

Lost My Religion

Lost My Religion

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What is Christianity? Where did it come from? How many wealthy people consider themselves a Christian? How many Christians are wealthy?How many Christians are miserable? How many Christians are Happy? How many Christians are Black? How many Christians are White? How many Christians are “other”? Who started Christianity?

Maybe not all of those questions are relevant, but maybe they are. From a child I was taught, but growing up I taught myself. Know who you are and what you’re doing. With that being said, I lost my religion a long time ago. I said I was not a Christian, I follow God. In some people’s eyes, that makes me a horrible person, a blasphemer. Well I’ve said worse… -RealityOfAPreachersDaughter

I Don’t Want This Life

I Don’t Want This Life

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You ever think about how you know your life should be. Everyone seems to be content with their day to day struggle and do nothing about it. Living with no purpose. Just a slave to your own existence. 

It takes a thought. A simple decision can rewrite your story. It can take you to another direction. Your life doesn’t have to be all about drama and bullshit. You should be enjoying everyday because you’re doing what you love. Figure out how and do it. 

The life I’ve experienced has brought me to a place where change is necessary for me. I talk so much shit to myself.                               “What the fuck is wrong with you?” “Why won’t you try?” “What are you afraid of?” 

After asking myself a lot of questions and answering them, I realize I have a lot of issues. LOL. But everyone does!!!! So I need to stop making excuses about why I’m not good enough for this and that and DO THE DAMN SHIT!

My dad and mom were preachers, they still are, but we still didn’t have shit. I refuse to become my parents and keep myself from all the happiness I can have. I don’t want their lives. I have to make the decisions they didn’t make to have the life they didn’t have.   

 –RealityOfAPreachersDaughter

The Story Is Mine 

The Story Is Mine 

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Everyone has a story. When that person transitions to another life, that story sometimes dies. Sometimes other people tell that story… which is why I’m determined to tell my own story. The most of my thoughts are unknown unless I choose to tell them. My “WHY” for doing what I do is only known if I let it be.

So instead of having someone else tell my story when I die, or while I’m alive, I choose to tell it myself. 

I’ve been watching documentaries lately, and many of them were done after the person moved on. Sometimes I think about the genius thoughts they kept to themselves. The personal struggles that no one knew of. There’s always more. –RealityOfAPreachersDaughter 

Holdin on for dear damn life…

Holdin on for dear damn life…

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That’s what I do. I hold on, and it holds me back. I hold on to shit that doesn’t even matter anymore. Real insignificant shit. It’s sad. It’s embarrassing. And I’m not the only one. 

My reasoning for holding on is something I need to let go of. It will be a step in the right direction, but it’s scary. Why? When I let it go, will I forget? Will someone forget they don’t matter? Will that be my only chance to have “that thing”? Will that mean I’m giving up ok that dream? What if the special opportunity comes and I don’t have this… 

Damn this is sad… –RealityOfAPreachersDaughter

Old Baptist Church

Old Baptist Church

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When I was a little girl, I remember going to an old baptist church. I’m sure it’s still there. I can still hear the songs, I can feel the rumble from stomping feet, I can smell the scent of the old pews, I can see the large narrow stain glass windows and pulpit where my dad sometimes stood. I can taste the communion crackers and the strong wine that left a burning sensation in my chest at 4 years old. I knew when the church ladies were cooking downstairs because you could smell the fried chicken coming through the basement up the stairs into the sanctuary. 

I don’t remember whether I was excited for the food or not because my mom cooked just like that at home and everyone loved my mom’s cooking.

 I just remember when there was no food being cooked downstairs and my father would have me and my mom waiting. My little brother didn’t count. He was too little. We seemed to always be one of the last people leaving, but the Reverend didn’t care. 

Silence is not golden

Silence is not golden

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Yep you’ve heard that silence is golden. No it’s not. Too many times I’ve seen people keep their mouth shut and what happened. Not a Damn Thing. So why the hell do we talk about silence is golden. 

I could keep my mouth shut about my life and deal with it internally and regret not expressing my feelings earlier. Some of us handle things differently than others. Accept it. 

It’s been 2 years since I started this blog and have yet to finish the book because of the potential consequences. But everything has consequences. You just need to figure out which consequences you want to deal with.       -RealityOfAPreachersDaughter