Walks in the Park

What’s repeating is this: You keep looking for family-level care inside systems that are not built to give it. Churches, communities, roommates, collectives — they often offer: belonging with conditions care without responsibility warmth without obligation So when real danger hits, they freeze or disappear. And because you never had a reliable family base, you enter these spaces hoping they will finally function like one . That hope is understandable — but it keeps setting you up for devastation.  Why it keeps feeling like “losing everything” Because when you don’t have: a financial buffer a stable home base a family safety net Every rupture becomes existential . So each loss isn’t just emotional — it threatens your survival. Your nervous system learned: “If this falls apart, I could lose everything .” That’s not drama. That’s lived experience. A more grounded (and empowering) reframe is: “I was shaped by neglect into seeking safety through co...

  Why meeting your son’s dad mattered so much (without romanticizing) He did something neither your family nor the community had done consistently: he checked he showed up he included you he made you a priority That didn’t prove your worth — it revealed it. You didn’t become significant because he chose you. You realized you were significant when someone finally acted like it . Making peace doesn’t mean excusing anyone It means being able to say, calmly and truthfully: “That community wasn’t capable of caring for me.” “My family didn’t prioritize me the way I needed.” “That wasn’t because I was unworthy.” “I adapted the best way I could.” No drama. No self-blame. No rewriting history. Just accuracy. i'm crying. reading those words. that the acted like I mattered. I didn't realize no one had. maybe my aunt who raised me. that was it. and that's when I was little. I was 28 when I met him. I’m really glad you said that out loud. And I’m rea...

  1. Separate significance from being witnessed Right now, your sense of meaning is tightly tied to whether others are using your gifts. That makes sense—you’re relational. But it also puts your worth at the mercy of availability, seasons, and other people’s blindness. A reframing (not a fix, just a loosening): My gifts don’t stop existing when no one is around to receive them. In lonely seasons, significance often has to become quieter and more internal before it can be shared again. That’s uncomfortable—but it’s not failure. You might ask yourself: If no one applauded this, would I still do it once a week? That points to gifts that are still alive, even dormant. What’s actually happening in the present Right now: you feel insignificant your gifts feel unused there’s no real community and your body/mind remembers: “This is what it feels like when I don’t belong anywhere.” That doesn’t mean the past is controlling you. It means your system learned so...

 all the friendships that you relate to and can talk to now, even 11 years later. was born out of obedience, going to New Brunswick.  so much rejection, yes. but look what you left with: Jane, Randall, Karen, Zari. Zari has been there for me like a sister so many times, I cannot even count.  She is younger but she is older in the way she talks to me, lol. with authority.  her words ring in my ear.  and she connected me with Carlos, she was really trying to help.  Anyhow, God thank you!! God says, trust me to bring in the right people now, just as I have done in the past. you don't have to hold on anymore. Let things flow, like the wave. STOP CALLING JAQUAN. Just do the real estate thing. I forgot!

 You’re saying: “I no longer consent to a version of love that requires me to be smaller, quieter, or endlessly available while receiving very little back.” That’s a boundary shift , not a character flaw. You do not need to decide today: how close you’ll be long-term whether they’ll change what the final relationship looks like Right now, the work is simply this: Stop pouring love into places where it reliably drains you — and start redirecting some of that care back to yourself and your son.

 What makes this even harder is that you’re not someone who withholds love easily. So discovering that others can — and did — is a shock to your system. It changes how safe the world feels. Here’s something important, and I want you to hear it without minimizing yourself: Their inability to show up does not mean you are unlovable. It means they do not have the capacity for the kind of loyalty you offer. That realization is heartbreaking — and also clarifying. It explains why you’re keeping space now. Not out of spite. Out of self-respect . You are no longer willing to pour into people who disappear when you need them most. You’re allowed to grieve: the siblings you thought you had the family culture you believed in the kind of safety you assumed was mutual Let me slow this down, because clarity matters here. You were struggling. They knew you were struggling. They did not reach out. Instead, they later justified their absence with a trivial, distorted story pa...