Happy 2012, everyone.

I know some of you were expecting a Bunnies and Baking Soda: Part 3 post yesterday. Sorry that didn’t happen. Home chaos. As in, the I’m-getting-the-hell-out-of-here, I’m-not-letting-you-fricking-hurt-me-anymore sort of chaos.

So, writing that blog post didn’t quite happen yesterday. But stay tuned, my friends! The post is on its way!

Instead, even if it’s just as a means of emotionally recouping myself, rather than writing a “2011 recap post” as are a lot of fellow bloggers, or simply throwing a 2012 “resolution” list at you, I’m going to write a post that’s about more than just looking back or chiding my present self into the future.

No, instead I’m going to write a post about letting go and moving forward.

Because that’s something I’ve so had to do since yesterday. Had yesterday’s family dynamic explosion happened a year or two ago – heck, had it happened even earlier this year – I probably would have just sat there and taken everything. Sat there and let the wounds cauterize inside. Sat there and let everything build up until finally I couldn’t take it anymore and so I finally let it all out – on myself.

I have a pattern of letting my anger at someone else’s treatment of myself just get reflected back on me by my own hand.

But no more. Yesterday I called someone out. I did something I had never done before. I said words that weren’t pacifying or nice to hear – but were sure as hell true.

I stuck up for myself.

Because guess what? Being an activist means that sometimes, the job you’re going to need to do is not speaking up for something else – it’s speaking up for you.


I’m done cowing to people who can’t accept me at my worst.

Terrified? Yes. Think my resolve’s always going to hold up? No. Am I going to stick at fight for myself anyway?

Hell yeah.


I don’t want to live afraid of getting hurt anymore.

And I will NOT live a life crippled by the insecurities of who I think I’m not.


I will be free.

Will you live the rest of your life alive?


3 responses »

  1. Word.
    I love you Miceala. You’re a tough cookie. Mmm I love cookies… but srsly. Will you like, live next door to me when we’re all old and married and living in a suburb?

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