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chica.not.forgotten

Follower of Christ. Social Worker. Diaspora Girl.

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Letters from the Heart

Personal poems, freestyle and otherwise, of my thoughts, emotions, prayers to God over the years and as they come. Some use personification to leave you thinking, others are straight to the point. Enjoy as they come.

A Present-Future Love

Love…

I wanted to know

To know what love was

To understand what it meant to be

Loved.

Loved by the One who made Love

Love…

I wanted to know its roots

To understand its depth,

Its width,

Its height and length,

Its very heart beat…

Its inner core.

And so I lay there,

In the dead of night,

In the warmth of my bed

Turning thoughts of Love in my mind

As I pondered…

As I wondered…

What it was this Love of sorts was

I did so, with ‘child-like’ curiousity

With an innocent delight.

And so I found myself asking,

Whispering with a drowsy, sleepy smile

To the Lover of my soul,

To the Keeper of my heart,

What it was—

This Love of His was…

As I lay there,

Sleep blanketing my eyes

I felt my heart skip a beat—

A flutter of sorts.

As the words of Love were whispered

To the depths of my soul…

My heart flooded with emotion,

My eyes brimmed beautifully with tears,

As I heard these blissful words:

“Love my darling– my Love for you, is like this:

“As I have seen your desire for children—

Blessed your future

With bundles of joyous delight—

As you will Love your children when they come…

I my child, Love them before you’ve seen them,

Before you’ve even known them

I Love them not only before you’ve conceived them,

But before you’ve named them…

I also Love them before you’ve met their father,

Before he’s set eyes on you

Yet my daughter

I see them…

I see them and Love them

Before they’ve come to be…”

And with that—

I knew…

I knew that my question of Love,

Had been answered…

For the Lover of my soul revealed

That it was the very same way,

In which He  had always Loved me.

 

 

 

I have loved you just as the Father has loved Me; remain in My love and do not doubt My love for you”. ~John 15:9~

 

“You saw me before I was born.
Every day of my life was recorded in your book.
Every moment was laid out
before a single day had passed
” ~Psalm 139:16~

Her Mask

Her eyes open

She lies there

Lies there in the warmth of her bed

In the comfort of her sheets

Wrapped around her, shielding her from the day ahead

As she’s just woken from a deep slumber

She’s woken and her eyes stare up at the crisp white ceiling

She’s awake

She’s alive

 And it’s morning

Her brain tells her all of this

Yet her heart

Her heart dreads the new day

Her heart aches as a new day begins

Her mind tells her

“Let’s stay in bed…”

“Let’s sleep the day away…”

Yet her heart knows

It knows that despite the ache

Despite the quivers and quakes in its bruised chambers

She must wake up

She must rise

Rise and face the day

*******

She throws the covers off

Makes her way to the bathroom

And peers into the mirror

“Hello again…”, she whispers

Her reflection greeting her with sorrow as she stares back

“Hello again self…”

“I didn’t expect to see you today…”

“Yet here we are…”

“Are we ready for another Oscar winning day?”

She stares

As if waiting for her reflection to give an answer

She waits….

And waits….

And while she does

She stretches out her hands and gently touches the mirror

As if to stroke her self

As if to comfort her soul

As if tell her reflection that it’ll be okay

“It’ll be okay…”

She sighs…

“Are you ready?”

She doesn’t wait for an answer

Because her reflection simply nods in agreement

It’s time to wash her face

Wash her face and put on her mask

Put on her mask for the world to see

She gently applies her makeup

Hiding the dried tears that she cried in the night

She carefully chooses her colourful clothes

Intentionally picking out her ‘chic’ jewelry

Ensuring that all is complementary

Ensuring that all is in place

That all looks well, as if trying to save face

Because she wants to ensure

Ensure that her loud, joyous outfits

Hide the brokenness in her heart

She wants to make sure that she’s put together

Because she’s learned that she has to be

She has to put on this mask

This theatrical act

Because to be vulnerable

To be vulnerable

She’s learned is to be weak

And to be weak

Is to be needy

And to be needy is…

Well it’s to be left alone

It’s to be labeled as too much

It’s to be seen as damaged

And she doesn’t want to be seen as damaged

She doesn’t want to be labeled as weak

She doesn’t want all of it

Because she doesn’t want to be alone

And so she’s learned to hide

To hide behind her smile

To hide behind her loudness

To hide behind her crazy laughter

To hide behind her boisterous outfits

To hide behind the image of one strong in her ‘Faith’

She’ s learned to hide it all

Yet inside she wonders what they would do

How they’d see her if they knew

If they knew

If they truly knew

How she spent her nights

If they knew the tears she shed

Each night on her bed

If they knew how each morning

As she opened her eyes

She sighed and wished she could sleep the day away

She wonders…

Yes she wonders…

Wonders if they knew

If they knew what she hid behind the mask

If they knew about the scars deep in her heart

Some still fresh, some healing

And some re-opening time after time

She wonders if they knew

If they knew about the scars on her arms

The scars that have healed on her arms

Yet the ones she hides with her colourful clothes

Because they remind her of her once most painful days

She wonders if they knew

If they knew her struggle

Her struggle with an illness

That dictated her every move

That made her feel guilt for every

Morsel of food she consumed

An illness that spewed so much hate

And poisoned her mind

She wondered if they knew

If they knew this and so much more

She wonders

Wonders if they’d leave

If they’d no longer want to talk to her

Want to be seen with her

She wonders…

And the fear of that

Leaves her clinging to her mask

Clinging to it

And refining her theatrical show

Because she can’t bear the thought of being left alone

Yet as she spends her days perfecting her act

Perfecting it and hiding

Hiding behind its intoxicating comfort

She still feels alone

Alone within her self

Because each day

As she retires her mask for the night

She wonders

Wonders if it’ll ever come off

If it’ll come off

So she can be free

Free to bare her scars

And say to all

Here I am

Yes here she is.

By: Wangui Muya

The End of my MSW Semester

April 6, 2014

It’s a Wednesday night. Scractch that. It’s actually Thursday morning at 12:21 AM. I should be sleeping but I was just in the process of racking my brain–looking back at how far I’ve come.

I can’t believe that it’s the end of the semester–year 1 of my Masters of Social Work Degree. My degree, is supposed to be 1 year, so technically I’m supposed to be graduating now, but I had a relapse of sorts in 1st semester. Despite that however, God’s grace has kept me.

I’m just taking it all in. I never thought, in the midst of my relapse in December of 2016 that I would make it this far. I had thought I would have to move back to Ontario (where I’m from, as I live in Calgary, Alberta atm for my education) and call it quits.

But God’s grace? Yeah.

It’s pretty frickin’ awesome.

I’m sitting here, in the midst of procrastination, creeping people on FB, and listening to worship music and thinking about how I’m here–here now in this moment, getting ready to be done for school.

I’m amazed. And in honour of that, I thought it would be quite fitting to post something I wrote the week I arrived in Calgary, with all my fears, worries, and anxieties staring at me in the face and mocking my ability to be sitting here now.

So here it is. It’s called Before Opened Doors. And it’s in light of all the prayers I made before such a loving Father in regards to discerning His will for me to move more than half way across the country and start fresh. Mind you I was doing this 1 month after being discharged from an inpatient ED program, so you can understand why I am amazed that I am sitting here, with my eyelids fighting to stay open at this late hour, but still thinking of how I actually survived. I SURVIVED!!

So without any further ado, happy reading, as you get glance into the abyss of my mind that was that September I moved–moved to the place of mountains.

Before Opened Doors—there were Prayers Prayed

Moving. Moving. Yes “moving”. Moving in the sense of going to a different place. Not the “moving” of moving furniture, or moving over in those speed lanes in traffic. No, rather I mean “moving” (am I getting annoying yet? Confusing perhaps?)–moving to a new a place, a new location.

Yes that moving. It can be a word that evokes so much emotion

 

Excitement, fear, hesitation, terror, worry. Just so much.

 

And so I’ve found myself doing just that—moving that is. Moving to a new city myself, has been ‘interesting’ to say the least. I’ve found myself trying to make this place my new home, my new residence, my new normal. The reality has hit me, that I have indeed moved to the ‘almost’ end of the other side of the country in the name of education (side note: I give ‘mad props’ to those who move to new countries; shout out to my parents/friends from university—y’all know who you are!); and I’ve found myself experiencing so many “ups and downs”—“highs and lows”. It’s been exhausting really, both emotionally and physically. I find that my mind has been racing at 100 miles a minute—constantly thinking of day-to-day technicalities like:

Will I make friends?”

“What are people’s first impressions of me? Am I talking too much?”

“Will I do well in school? Get good grades?”

“How am I going to get through all of my assignments?”

“Will I graduate in June or October?”

“Should I drop a course? Does that mean I’m lazy?”

“Will I make it financially? Will I have enough?”

“Will I find a church home?”

 

Then of course there are the more nagging, worry-inducing, thought-provoking, deeper questions that keep me up at night such as:

 

What if people find out about my struggles? What will they think?”

“Will I be able to continue with my mental health?”

“What if I get sick again?”

“What if I fail?”

“When will I break free?”

“Why do I feel so ‘black’, yet I’m in a ‘diverse’ city?”

“Will I continue feeling lonely? Will I feel connected?”

“Is this my new home? Will I settle here? Get married here?”

 

These, amongst so many other questions, but for the sake of not writing a novel (or blabbing as I’m usually prone to), I’ll leave the others out as you get the point.

These questions often become so overwhelming—so consuming, that too many times in the past 2 and a half weeks I’ve found myself saying, “I can’t”. I’ve found myself bursting into tears as soon as my key opens the door to my apartment. I’ve found myself sitting on my living room couch and crying about all the mountains I feel that I’m climbing—funny enough in the city of mountains. I’ve felt as if I were going to explode; and mind you the urge to pack up and go home has at times overwhelmed me—engulfed me.

But…

But then I stop. I stop and hear a small whisper, a still small voice. And it prompts me to cry out all that is within me—that is on my heart. It prompts me to cry out to him—let it all out and then some.

 

To rant, to scream.

To yell. To weep.

And so I do.

And soon…

Well soon I find myself transitioning…

Transitioning into a prayer of desperation…

 

But it’s in my tears that God reminds me…

 

He reminds me that it is He that brought me here. He reminds me that it is He who heard my prayers many months and years prior to opening the doors to this city. It is He who cleared this path for me and will continue to do so. He reminds me that it is He who will now sustain me, comfort me, and become my best friend. He reminds me that it is He who will show me, lead my every step and direct me through my daily plans. He reminds me of John 14: 1-4, and as I read it, my heart quivers and shakes with so much emotion—yet so much peace—a dichotomy really.

 

“Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God, trust also in Me. In my Father’s house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me, that you also may be where I am”

~John 14: 1-4~

 

 

And as my heart is shaking, and my lips are quivering, and my mind racing, He reminds me—whispers to me:

 

“I never said there wouldn’t be any fears, my dear daughter. I never said it would be perfect; and I never said you wouldn’t question your being here. No my daughter, my sweet child. What I did say is that I WOULD and WILL sustain you. I will bring you peace. I will bring you purpose. I will bring you direction. I will give you hope and give you courage. I will wipe your tears and catch you before you fall. Remember our times together—the prayers you shared with me before I led you here. The hopes and dreams you whispered to Me. I did not bring you here to fail, nor to fall. But rather I brought you here to mold youshape you, and show you My GLORY. To show you My STRENGTH. To show you My POWER. It is I who brought you here, and it is I who will take you through”.

 

Such beautiful words—such peaceful whisperings He showers on me. He’s spoken this to me today, and He’s speaking such beautiful words to you as well. Whether you’ve moved (there’s that word again), or not. Whether you’re planning to, or not. Whether you’re starting a new job, moving out, starting first year, or finishing your last year…

 

Whatever the circumstance, it doesn’t matter. What I want you to take away for tonight is this:

 

If God BROUGHT you to a place, then He’s GOING to TAKE you, and CARRY you through it. It may be bumpy, prickly, uncomfortable—heck some tears may even be shed; but He’s GOT YOU. He’s going to sustain you and give you STRENGTH that you never knew you had.

 

Sometimes God takes us OUT of our comfort zones to SHOW us His power, His strength; and to grow us in our RELATIONSHIP with Him.

 

Let Him, LEAD you.

Let Him GUIDE you.

And along the way, don’t be afraid to cry out to Him—to ask Him for help.

Don’t be afraid to tell Him your fears, worries, and struggles. He wants to hear it. He wants it all, and then some.

Because in the END, He wants to show us how it ALL came TOGETHER.

 

Mind you, it won’t all be rough. There will be good times. There will be fun times. And I encourage you, don’t be afraid to enjoy these times. Thank Him for the good times. Bless Him for the rough times, for it will all come together.

 

He knows what He’s doing. Trust Him.

Because if He brought you HERE…

He will take you to the end.

He’ll COMPLETE His work because…

Because He’s not a god of incompletion.

 

Though I myself have just started this journey, I remember all the prayers that were prayed for this opportunity; and I’m reminded and humbled that indeed I am not only WHERE I’m SUPPOSED to be, but that I’m in His will. I want to encourage the same for you, whomever you may be…

 

Whatever the circumstance.

Don’t forget the prayers that you prayed, the tears that you shed

For they all brought you to the path that you’re on now.

 

I leave you with this my dear friends and hope that you remain encouraged:

 

 

“The WILL of God will never take you to where the GRACE of God will not protect you”.

 

 

 

Be blessed!

Love,

Wangui M (September 18, 2016)

Dance with The Devil

 

 

God I’m scared.

Scared that I’ll never recover;

Scared that I’ll never be free.

Scared that my dance,

My waltz with the devil—Eddy,

Will last forever.

I’m scared that I won’t be able to let go,

Let go of Eddy’s firm grip on my wrist,

His heavy hand on the small of my neck.

Scared of his inhuman strength;

Scared that he’ll continue to rage,

Continue to scream,

Scream that I can’t leave,

Scream that I am his, and his alone.

I’m scared he’ll look me in the eye

Look me in the eye and tell me that—

Tell me that if he can’t have me, then no one can.

He’ll look me in the eye and I’ll stare,

I’ll stare right back and he’ll tell me,

Tell me that I’m going to die,

That it’s inevitable.

And Oh God I’m scared,

So scared I’ll submit–

Submit to this idea–

This idea of being his forever,

Forever chained.

I’m scared I’ll stare right back at him

Stare right back and nod my head–

Nod my head in surrender

Surrender and acceptance.

Acceptance of Eddy’s premeditated plan of my imminent death;

And with my acceptance,

With it, I know he’ll laugh–

Laugh and grab my hair and neck.

Yank them hard and force me to look–

Force me to look at myself in the mirror;

And while he has his death grip—

His hands like a vice around the back of my neck;

And his fingers buried and digging, pulling at my hair;

He’ll whisper with an evil laugh at my ear and force me,

Force me to look up into the mirror–

Force me to look at the reflection of the two of us–

The two of us together.

He’ll laugh and whisper to me in an evil cackle,

He’ll ask me with bone-chilling, taunting laughter

Ask me what it is that I see?

He won’t let me finish, won’t let me answer,

As he’ll go on to tell me–

Tell me to look for the ugly girl;

The disgusting woman I am, that I’ve become and are becoming.

He’ll tighten his hands around me

And shift his mouth to the other side of my other ear.

And there, he’ll again ask me,

What it is that I see?

And this time he’ll pause,

He’ll pause and wait for me to answer.

And I’ll look, look up and into the mirror

And search for what it is that I can see.

But as I’ll look, expecting to see the two of us,

The two of us in an entangled and chaotic, abusive embrace;

I’ll step back in shock;

I’ll choke out a muffled cry–

As staring back at me

I’ll only see me,

See my wasting body,

My dull lifeless eyes.

Yes I’ll only see me,

And what I’ve become

Become one in the same with Eddy—a package deal.

And deep inside I’ll break.

I’ll break as my heart quivers and quakes–

Quakes in fear, in sadness–

Sadness for the girl consumed–

Consumed by Eddy.

And as I’ll be breaking and my heart shaking,

Tears streaming down my face,

Eddy will be laughing, laughing in my head—

Laughing all around me.

And I’ll look around frantically;

I’ll be looking for him, for where he is—where he’ll be at;

Where he’ll be hiding and watching me from.

But his laughter will grow in intensity,

And he’ll then be laughing hysterically,

And he’ll say,

“Didn’t you know? Know that the two shall become one?

Didn’t you know? Know when you decided to court with me?

To court with death? To accept my proposal and marry me?”

And it’ll be then that I’ll have a flashback

I’ll remember the day we first met,

The day he smiled at me with a twinkle in his eye.

The day he gave me an intense stare and I stared back into his eyes and fell in love

I’ll remember the day I was so attracted to him

So attracted that I felt my heart flutter

I’ll remember the time he stretched out his hand

And I placed my hand in his and looked up and smiled up at him

And he looked down and winked back

 I’ll remember the day I felt his embrace

The day he kissed my lips

And promised me that I’d be forever his

That he would never leave me

Never.

And I remember thinking to my self what a lucky girl I was to have found this one—

This one who would never leave me, never forsake me

If only I had known then what I know now…

What Eddy had really meant, what he really had planned.

I’ll remember how it was that day I’d professed my love

I’d given him my trust and my whole heart

And it’s then that I’ll realize, it was back then in the very beginning that I made a mistake

The biggest mistake of my life…

And he’ll continue laughing

And I’ll collapse in horror

As I’ll finally realize

Realize how it is that I married a monster

A monster that I can’t get rid of

That no annulment or divorce paper can free me of…

And as this reality hits me–

Smacks me in the face

I’ll black out from the extent of my emotions

Hoping and praying

That I’ll either wake up from this nightmare

This dance with Eddy, this deathly waltz

Or that he’ll quickly finish me

Finish me off and give me an eternal sleep

And finally…

Finally some peace, and leave me be

As he’ll have finally killed me.

December 28, 2014 by Wangui Muya

In the midst of struggling towards pushing on in recovery

Strong Black Woman Reinvented

It had started with a skipped meal here

And a delayed snack there

Had started with the discontent

And the promise for self-improvement

It had started with the exercise, the countless hours

And then the purging, the binging, the restricting, the hating

Soon after not surprisingly, came the self-loathing

Yes it had progressed to self-hate,  a self-hate so deep and so strong

Yes so very deep and rooted that it frightened her

Yet she continued, continued with her rituals, all the harrowing efforts that she tried to tame her body with

And before long, she had labeled herself a disgrace

A disgrace,  and one that hated

Hated her shapely thighs

Hated her womanly hips

One that hated her ample breasts

And detested the curve in her backside

One that hated her size

Constantly telling herself that she wasn’t good enough

Convincing herself that the blessings her mother had given her

The blessings of her black shapely body

Were a mere disgrace

And with this cognition

Came guilt and shame

Shame with the realization that she detested herself

Wanted to destroy herself

Guilt that she was supposed to—

Supposed to be a strong black woman

Was expected to be confident

Confident with the sway of her hips

And the richness of her sun kissed skin

Yet she was ashamed that she wasn’t—

That she didn’t fit this expected label of a strong black woman

Instead she felt weak

Weak and ashamed

And so this all ate at her

Slowly gnawing on her bones

From the inside  out

And on the out, she slowly began destroying herself

Thinner and thinner she got

Until before long she was just a shadow, a skeletal silhouette

And with this, further and further she got

From that commonly portrayed image of a strong black woman

Until one say she didn’t recognize herself

And she realized how far she had gone

How far she had gotten in destroying herself

And how close she had come to killing herself

Ridding herself of her as she so desperately tried to run away

Yes as she tried to run away from what she was supposed to be

A strong confident black woman

One that was revered for her shape, her confidence, and her sass

Yes she had tried to run away

Tried to get rid of her intended wide hips

Tried to destroy her thick strong thighs

And her curvy derriere

Yes she had tried to destroy these

Yet she one day realized that she could

No longer deny herself—

No longer deny herself of who she was

Of what her body wanted to be

And it wanted to that

That strong black woman

Both mentally and physically

And as she thought about this

As she really thought hard and pondered on what she would do

She came to a realization

Yes a decision, a life-changing one really

A decision that she would have to begin loving herself

She would have to begin rebuilding herself

Yes she would rebuild herself

Rebuild by nourishing herself, caring for herself

No longer permitting self-inflicted assault to her body

No longer allowing for the venomous abuse, the deep seated self-hate

She would have to work on accepting herself

And she wondered how long it would take

But she put that aside and simply began

Simply began to feed herself

And as she sits here writing

Writing and looking back

Writing and looking at the moment—feeling THIS moment

She realizes that she’s come so far

So far in how she used to be

As she writes, she pauses

Pauses and looks at herself

Yes she looks and takes note—

Her hips are coming back

Her behind is taking its destined shape

She notes that her thighs are slowly growing

Growing in size but to her she now reframes this as growing in strength

Yes as she writes, she realizes her intended black body

The body that she was destined to have

The one God blessed her with

Is slowly waking, is slowly blooming

Repairing and coming alive

And as she continues to write

She’s surprised

Surprised that she no longer wants to fight against her destined body

No—she no longer wants to destroy it nor detest it

She wants to finally accept it

She wants to love it, embrace it, flaunt it

She realizes that though her mind is not there yet

Is not free from the years of mental chains

Is not there yet in loving her body completely

She knows that she will however get there one day

And as she prepares to put her pen down and rest her head for the night

She realizes something– an epiphany really

She realizes that she doesn’t have to control her body

That the One who created her controls it

The One who formed her knows where her beautiful body wants to be, is supposed to be

Knows where it is destined to be and

She trusts that it’ll be at a place where she is happy

She knows that the One who molded her will not leave her unhappy

She knows that He’ll bring her to a place of equilibrium

A place where she is happy and healthy in both body and mind

She knows that she has to let go, let go completely

Let go of all that gets in the way of achieving this process

And allowing the One who sculpted her to take control

She knows that she is slowly rebuilding her trust in her maker

And that He will not disappoint, he will not leave her hanging

He will not leave her miserable and running back to her old ways

And she then realizes that her body, yet beautiful in its form

Is not what makes her a strong black woman, is not what defines her

Yes she realizes that she doesn’t have to fit the expectation

Of being a strong black woman simply defined by her body

But rather

Yes rather she is a strong black woman

A strong, courageous black woman for the battle she has gone through

The battle that she is going through

And the battle that she has already won

Won through the direction and victory of her Maker

Yes she realizes that she is a strong black woman

Simply for fighting, pushing on

And slowly recovering, slowly regenerating

Yes she is a strong black woman

For simply being her and learning to accept that

Yes she is a strong black woman for no longer—

No longer hiding her struggle, her battle, her fight with this demon

Yes she is a strong black woman for speaking out

Speaking out, and spilling her heart out

Speaking out and reaching out to others hurting

To others fighting their own battles

Yes she is a strong black woman for encouraging others

Uplifting others and praying over others

Yes she is a strong black woman

One that is learning to love herself

Be herself

And now as she finally puts her pen down

She realizes

Simply realizes

That she’s okay with her own definition of a strong black woman:

One that never gives up

She realizes that she has always been a strong black woman, and always will be

And she is mind-blown

And her heart flutters, it somersaults with a deep joy

For she’s reinvented the definition of a strong black woman

One that encompasses and includes all

 And with this, all she can do is smile

By Wangui Muya

Written January 2, 2015 and revised June 9, 2015

In response to the original Strong Black Woman and in declaring God’s breakthrough amidst the current struggle of remaining in recovery; and trusting that He will bring her to a place where she is happy and no longer detests herself or regrets recovery or wishes she could go back to what was once killing her.

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