You Broke Me

You Broke Me

“Daddy, you broke me!”

Through heavy sobs, the words came spilling out of his mouth. Eyes, red and bloodshot from crying so intensely; even causing him to do that heavy, shortened breath stutter, making his head shake with every gasp for his next breath.

I knew this day would come…and admittedly, selfishly, avoiding this day is one of the reasons I once said I never wanted to have kids.

The day he finally put it all together; solving the Rubik’s cube of emotions he lives with; the reason he had always felt different from other kids; from other boys. The day he realized why, when it seemed like all the other kids were jumping into adolescence with both feet, without regard, all the while he only knew hesitation; questioning every choice to death. The day he realized that when he found his “thing” that made him feel truly alive for the first time, only to have his first reaction to put it away; hide it from others, convinced people would laugh at him if he told them about it. The day he realized that voice in his head – the one telling him he wasn’t good enough to make it, or not smart enough to try, or that person isn’t going to like him back, so don’t bother asking them out; he would realize where that voice originated from, and how it got in his head. The day he realized, all those roads filled with fear and doubt, and the many still left to travel; they all lead back to me, his father, and the gift; the curse, I passed down to him at birth.

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Parenting In Front of the Camera: Internet Fame at a Cost?

It seems these days that internet fame is literally a heartbeat away. One shared status on Facebook, one massive tweet on Twitter, one amazing picture on Instagram, or the granddaddy of them all, viral video on YouTube. We’re all just a press of the button away from the whole world sharing our story, our joke, or our snapshot inside our life. And as a society, we’re starting to crave that attention. We want to be the next one to be seen, to be talked about, to be admired; so much so that as we get deeper and deeper into the age of the internet, people are looking for new and creative ways to get that fame…even parents.
I know right off the bat it sounds like I’m being judgmental. Maybe I am a little, but trust me when I tell you I also understand, because I crave that attention too, but there are some lines I just won’t cross in the search of attention
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Sexual Assault: A Hidden Double Standard

I want to paint a picture for you, if you would allow me. First, while I am not a huge fan of the overused term Trigger Warning, some may find topics discussed here triggering because of events that have happened to them.
So, the picture: Imagine if you will a person, for the sake of popularity; mainly in the form of “likes” or “shares” or “views” given out during this age of social media, going around and filming themselves touching people of the opposite sex, and filming their reactions to post on the internet. “But Mike, what do you mean by touching?” Well, I’m glad you (I) asked.
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Women I Admire Day 29: My Mom, The One That Never Was #WomensHistoryMonth

I bet you didn’t expect this curve ball coming, did you? If you’ve been here for any amount of time, you’ve read about my abusive past with my mother, and if not, you might want to hit up the archives.
I’ve been doing a lot of soul-searching and evaluating of my life recently. I don’t know, maybe it’s because every day it feels like 40 is getting closer and closer (because it literally is dummy, that’s how days work. Ugh, this guy).  One of the major things I’ve landed on, even though I’m still trying to reconcile it in my mind, is that two things that are opposite of each other can still coexist in the world of truth. And this is causing havoc as I try to relate it to my past. Did that make any sense? Ok, here’s an example: you can love someone but not like them. Or in my case, you can not love someone at all, or even like them, but you can admire them?
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Women I Admire Day 26: Kristina Hammer, The Angrivated Poet #WomensHistoryMonth

Poetry is one of the aspect of the literary/writing world that I have never gotten the hang of. Shit, let’s be honest, I barely have a handle on writing as it is. But, during my time spent in the blogging world, I have met some writers that create some of the most beautiful poetry. So good that I would rather hear than recite a poem that just came up with, than a blog post they have been stewing on or a while. And that’s in no way a knock on their writing; their poetry is just that good.
Maybe my lack of poetic understanding is why life has always seemed so unfair to me. They say life is poetic, and I guess if I understood that more, or how to tap into that world I wouldn’t have such a harsh outlook on life. But then…then I think about some of the people I’ve become acquainted with over the last few years. The kind of people that you hear about the roller coaster that is their life; the struggles they’ve have lived, and then listen to their outlook on life, and you might find yourself thinking, This person is crazy! But, wasn’t the same said about many of the greats?
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Women I Admire Day 22: Harmony Hobbs, Loving Herself Enough to Change #WomensHistoryMonth

Change is hard. Especially when you don’t see a need to change, or when the action that needs to change is associated with having a good time; like drinking. By this point in all our lives, we all know someone, or you are that person, that has a little too much at a party and becomes the life of the party to some, or the annoying drunk to others. When we were young it was easy to laugh off these kinds of actions as someone just cutting loose. But now, as we’re older and supposedly more mature, these are the kind of action we identify with someone who needs help.
But what if there was another in that scenario who also needed help? A person who doesn’t get out of control or make a scene? A person who can keep it together and handle their alcohol, but unbeknownst to you, they using that alcohol to cope with life? How do we spot them? Well, just short of that person saying they need help, we can’t.
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Women I Admire Day 21: Misty Browne, Faith, Conviction and Love #WomensHistoryMonth

I don’t actually how to start this story. How do I tell the story of someone I admire, but also a person I know little to nothing about them? Will I be able to write that story? Will people even believe me, or with they think I’m just making it up or trying to fill space? Will anyone even read that story?
Sure, those are all things I could, and maybe still do, worry about, but the real question I have is, will I be able to do this story justice with what little I factually know? Will I be able to tell this person’s story to the level that they deserve? Will they even read it? I guess there’s only one way to find out.
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Women I Admire Day 18: Alexa Haddock Bigwarfe, Defender #WomensHistoryMonth

I was recently a guest on a podcast, and I had an amazing time. It’s called Lose the Cape Podcast for Working Moms…because, when you think of working moms, you look no further than Mike at Papa Does Preach, lol. I have been talking about starting my own podcast, and who knows, maybe I can move into the working moms niche when I get up and running.
In all seriousness, the podcast is run by Alexa Haddock Bigwarfe and her co-host Aubrey Mathis. Alexa was awesome enough to invite me on as there first ever dad guest, to talk about topics ranging from the women’s march, the day without women movement, and women’s history month, because again, when you think women’s movement, you think of this guy right here.
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Women I Admire Day 3: My Friend Audrey Hayworth #WomensHistoryMonth

I have come to realize that I don’t always do a good job telling people what they mean to me, or how I see them. In my head I convince myself that they clearly know, because we’re connected. But, of course in this day and age of social media, connection doesn’t mean that same as it did even 10 years ago. This is something I plan to work on.
But this isn’t about me…this about someone hearing what they mean to me, and it’s long overdue.
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Women I Admire Day 2: Warrior Moms Making Real Progress #WomensHistoryMonth

According to the Centers for Disease Control, 11 to 20% of women who give birth each year have postpartum depression symptoms. If we met in the middle and just called it 15%, out of the four million live births in the US each year, approximately 600,000 women get postpartum depression (or other forms of postpartum mental illness) each year in the United States alone. And that’s not even factoring in the women who miscarry or have stillborn babies. That raises the number to nearly 1 million. That is scary as hell!
There are still many people in the US, not to mention around the world, that don’t think PPD is a “real thing”. But, I’m here to tell you it’s real alright, and it deserves just as much attention and care as any other mental illness.
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