The Mark

We spend our lives trying to fit with others. We give our worth away, handing it over carelessly to someone else to mark us…tarnishing our very soul. We will never make every single person happy. Somehow we get a letter embroidered or tattooed as a mark, a label of sorts, based on how we are seen. Mistakes from the past get magnified and we are forever marked as damaged goods. Whether it’s a B for bitch, a W for witch, an A for addict, L for liar, or the rest of the alphabet, we live with a scarlet letter because of others. And, in those moments of poor judgment we actually own up to the bullshit that is instilled upon us. Most of the time that letter gets placed on us because of misunderstandings, gossip, and false illusions. They get stitched on our chest while hurting and degrading us, separating us from our spiritual path. People love to believe the Jerry Springer version of everything. OMG…the truth is really a boring place for most. They make their own assumptions. 

Our world revolves around the perception of how others view us. I think it is well beyond the time in our lives that we yank that letter off from our spirits and live on our own principles. It is time to stop the insanity of how others categorize us. Make YOURSELF happy. Do NOT allow another individual to dictate your worth. Do not place a price tag on your humanity based on past experiences. Get that letter and shove it up someone else’s ass (if you must) but do NOT allow anyone to make you feel inferior. Do not consent to anything but your own greatness and laugh at it all. Raise your frequency by letting go and forgiving. You are magnificent. 

God don’t make no junk! Every mistake and challenge has brought you here to grow and polish you for something greater. People will always (ALWAYS) find a way to believe things that aren’t true. It’s not your business what anyone thinks of you as long as you stay true to yourself. Burn those letters and rise to the occasion. You are the best version of you. Copies unacceptable. I love you. 

Show me your humanity

color skin

It’s raining today. I always marvel at the way the rain makes everything look. Things are brighter in color. I think of our own colors and how bright they get when we enhance with the flow of love. I am a mother. That seems to be my calling. I have 7 children and I often think this isn’t the end of that bunch. Each one is a different color. Each one is from a different ancestry tree. And each one is powerful in light and love. Under the rain water we probably look brighter and magnificent. I don’t recall observing it the many times we got caught in the rain together. Life happens and I can’t return to those moments I should have cherished when they were younger.

When someone mentions that I am a “really white Puerto Rican” I pause. What does that mean? When did we put colors on race to determine origin? I don’t understand the way folks look at Matt and me and then look at our little girl who is bi-racial and question the authenticity of parenthood. But something I have gathered in my many years on this planet is that society is bounded and restrained by fear of differences. If we don’t fit in a box we are scrutinized. We are getting better, I must say! We are evolving and challenging and questioning everything we have been told. Bravo! There is still a major shift to undergo. Some folks hide their fears behind religion. Others behind politics. And then there are those who have been fractured beyond love in childhood and truly take it out on others. I hate to say it and make excuses but they just don’t know better because they didn’t have better. That simple.

Today, in the rain or in the sunshine…notice your brightness, your uniqueness and love everything you see. Hold those who you fear in light. You might just learn true love and compassion by showing your kindness in moments that feel uncomfortable.

In closing, yesterday I had to run to Goodwill with another car load of house stuff. There was a man with a sign on the corner that read: “Had a heart attack. I need help. Please show me your humanity.” I was deeply moved. “Please show me your humanity.” I got off and hugged him. I got him something to eat. Then I heard the silence in the thank you, the touch, and the humanity in both of us. We shared something beyond words in a few minutes of connection. It happens just like that. I needed him yesterday. I was having a really, really, crappy day. The color of his skin, his origin, his labels didn’t mean a single thing. He was there, ironically helping me get over my own self-pity and crap. He didn’t care about my issues or who I was. He just needed one person to show him that he mattered. Let’s show others our humanity. Let’s do something that is completely out of character and feel good because we shine and brighten like the rain.

Love to all! Have a blessed day!!!!

In a Name

Tell me your real name,

you staring back

through the windows of my soul.

Mother was heavily sedated

when she labeled you,

but here we are

living up to the antiquities

of a foreign noun

collecting adjectives

every day

from those who meet us,

know us,

and sometimes never like us.

What do you want to be called

in avoidance of the perception

a parent insanely applied …

for who is Mildred America?

She won’t live up to those nouns


than sweet names

that linger inside the tongue,

sliding off to make pretty sounds

with simple syllables.

Mildred America…

what was she thinking,

or did she not think at all?

How does one live to the reverence

of such hard sounds

that hide within initials of truth.

When I place my Millie A.

no one imagines a continent sits

within the first and last name

waiting to be explored.

So tell me,

you there, in the mirror,

what would you like to be called today

besides “Lovable,”



or “Friend?”