Gesuschic

Different. I’ve always been that way. The very sperm holding my DNA was a peculiar one.
My mom’s entire pregnancy with me was challenging.
Physically, I was completely different from my brothers. All of them with their blonde hair, thin bodies and beautiful bright blue eyes.
My sister whom I resembled was also thin, long ass beautiful hair and perfect straight white teeth.
Then there was me, haha
Different…
I was “the pretty face” sister.
Excitement from relatives that hadn’t seen us in awhile would always turn to a worried, somber face when their eyes locked with mine. Their heads would tilt and lower, along with the tone in their voices…”Awe Tommie-Girl, you have such a pretty face.”
I was treated different only because my mom had such trouble with me in her womb, she was incredibly protective. I was the baby. I was my parents (Tom and Wanda) only child together. We were a blended family and I was the result as if Mike and Carole Brady would of had a seventh child on The Brady Bunch.
At the expense of making this blog as long as the world is round I’ll hop ahead.
I made a Facebook status the other day. a dear friend commented that I was an open book and anyone wanting to get to know me could do so by reading, but It’s been awhile. Now granted, anyone whose known me for more than three seconds already knows I wear my heart and all five million emotions on my sleeve. That has NOT changed, hahaha But a lot has. I’ve grown so much since this crazy do-over chapter in my life started five years ago. At one time I was rooted in tradition and fairy tales, where now I stand grounded in experience and realism.  I still love Jesus with all that I am. I still believe, read my bible, study, pray…But the concept of a building with four walls, being a must to sport my “Jesus Card” has gone. I study and read to see how I, Cheryl can be more Christ like by following who He was as a human being when he slid that tunic on and washed the feet of Judas, rather than anything else. Go ahead and read that again;)
I no longer feel gays are on a one way street to Hell, fire and brimstone and I doubt very seriously God gives two shits if me or any other believer bakes a cake for anyone remotely resembling Elton John to Rue Paul.
BE AN EXAMPLE.
Don’t read into what I just wrote either. I’m not the poster child for the gay affirming movement, I’ll leave that to my buddy Jay Bakker. (my REAL soul mate;) I’m just trying to show how we can evolve, grow as people by learning from each other, being okay with our differences and still be the same Individual person that make each of us, us! I heard the most kick ass analogy. “Twenty years ago the twenty dollar bill looked very different. Over the years it has changed, gone through numerous changes as a matter of fact. But it’s STILL a hundred.” 😉
Ya dig?
 You may read my blogs and they’ll seem different than before. A bit more open, harsh, hard for some to read because my views and opinions may be different from when you remembered me.
I feel like I’m losing my mind. There is so much going on with me and some days I’m falling to pieces. I have to blog. That’s my release. But I can’t stay in that bubble I grew up in. I’m so thankful for my life, my Parents… but I’m also my own person. I have always blogged the same way I speak, without thinking. I can’t keep up with that if I’m worried about what I say offending any of my “Jesus friends.” No more censoring myself out of respect. I feel at 45 years old, I’ve earned you to read my blog that way, for me. Can I say that?
I don’t know what I’m doing half the time. I have nothing about me together, I’m just figuring it out step by step and trying to find out who the fuck Cheryl even is.

I’m still a hopeless romantic although I think the happily ever after has finally been laid to rest. May that bitch rest in damn peace too, haha I’ve been in love three times in my entire life. If you asked me three years ago how I would feel about any of those situations today, I would have a lot of regret. But that too has changed. Anger is an overrated emotion that wastes energy.
The last time I was in love it wasn’t mutual at all, (Brace yourselves Christians) just a fuckship I fell into feelings with. But damn, he was THE shit. I still love that man and honestly, I probably will for a very, very long time.
I’m so pissed the Universe had two people with the shittiest luck, find one another and not have one return those feelings. What kind of bullshit is that? I didn’t even know energy and love could do that. Not when it was felt so deep…I feel like I was hit in the back of the head with a board.
 I left his life kicking and screaming too. Not my finest moment. I’m learning to let it be. It’s so hard because another change, I no longer fight to keep anything or anyone. I don’t have the energy for that anymore. Although this guy would be sooo worth the fight, haha But I have to let him go, without anger…  Only because it wasn’t his fault. I wasn’t his person. It happens. And even though it FUCKING KILLS ME, I couldn’t stay his friend. Watching him fall in love with someone other than me? Ugh…I wanna stab myself in the fucking eye ball thinking about it.
But evolved Cheryl has had an epiphany.
Three very different men.
Lifestyles, belief, hobbies, so many differences because not only am I a different type of human, I LOVE DIFFERENT too. 🙂
I am so broken over this last guy. But no regrets, none at all. New Cheryl, changing Cheryl. Everything is a lesson. Always walk away from every situation knowing how to better YOURSELF. I refuse to be bitter. I honestly think love isn’t for me. But it’s my nature to hope. So in discovering new ways to think, learn…grow. I realized my heart will continue to remain open.
My three life lessons in love💘
Three loves. Three lessons. Each one just as valuable.
The love I had for the first man taught me without a doubt, LOVE IS ETERNAL.
My ex husband, love just won’t always be enough.
This last man…the most important lesson of all. That no matter what, even when not returned, love is always, always worth it.
All I can do is keep going man. Day by day. No matter what. I will never have all of the answers. And right now everything seems to be crashing and burning around me. But honestly, I’m feeling more stronger spiritually and physically every single day. God is still good man. Pastor Matt said at one time I was like Ruth, grabbing the favor, one step at a time…Same steps man. One at a time. Only thing now is, I’m outta the boat and my focus is forward;)

Selah~
CHERyL

“She was as the wind blowing through the trees on a warm Summer day, even in the cold Winter morning’s.”
The caption under my mom’s picture for this years Mother’s Day post.
I do miss her…so bad. The worst is when I can’t sleep. Because my dreams are spotty. I can’t get a hold of the memory from the details like I usually can.
Almost always I wake up calling out for my mother, literally.
And then I remember she’s dead.
It’s as if I lose her all over again.
A couple of weeks ago I found an off brand of my mom’s favorite perfume, but it’s not the same. However, that didn’t stop me from grabbing it before heading to the bathroom at 4am this morning. Spraying it, trying to get some sort of comfort by her scent.
It wasn’t the same. I sat on the side of the tub until 6:30am just weeping my eyes out. Running the shower so my kids wouldn’t hear me cry.
I miss her so bad.
Wanda May as a lot of people know, never accepted bullshit as a form of communication.
Real.
Raw.
Rare.
Different.
All of those were totally acceptable.
Sound familiar?
A bad ass in her own right because she went above and beyond love and loyalty for any under-dog within a “cry for help” radius of her compassionate mercy and effortless understanding. Even if it was a point of view that didn’t inline with her beliefs or her own way of thinking. She was so open to people and the differences we all had. She fucking loved everybody.
This loud, bad ass, loving, woman not only gave birth to me she raised me.
Excommunicated from Church, abandoned, forgotten, homelessness, rape, loss and replaced…Her luck, life and strongholds were more than most could endure I’m sure.
I, as a little girl watched my mom persevere, rising regardless like a phoenix, holding onto her faith for dear life as though it was a shield.
Sound familiar?
The older I get the more I come to realize I am walking a road that I’ve been carried on before. Each step accompanied with tears, anger, helplessness, confusion, loneliness…yet every single step covered by strong faith, boundless love, and laughter, always laughter.
Laughing was my mom’s favorite thing in the world.
My example in humility.
My example in evolving as a better human being.
My example in moving on in spite of failure, fuck ups and regret.
Wanda May consistently remained solid in who she was as Wanda.
Loving, honest, God fearing, full of abundant laughter.
With so much suffered loss, she also carried grief.
My mom buried all of her loved ones at a very young age, including a marriage.
Sound familiar?
Through it all her spirit was never broken though.
Her faith and relationship in Christ carried her as she in turn carried my brothers and I.
She was such a beautiful human being.
The hand that life dealt to my mother was a very cruel one. I won’t comment on that here because this blog is about the legacy of Wanda May, not her death.
I’m her legacy.
Every example she placed before me with her actions is who I strive to be every single day. Finding beauty in life.
Loving people with no boundaries.
Laughing at anything, choosing joy when nothing but tears are streaming down your face, you can’t hear God for days and the future is terrifying and unsure.
THAT…WAS…MY…MOM.
I can only hope that her legacy will continue with my children. That somehow through me,  I did not fuck this flow up and Charlie will also learn to rise above ALL the bullshit of life and hold on to those things that my mother truly knew were important.
And he will remain Charlie, continuing that same gangsta legacy of loving in spite of differences,
forgiving easy,
letting go and moving on without bitterness.
I can’t even believe it.
Tom and Wanda’s first Grand-baby.
I hope I was able to carry mine as my mom did, and soon, Charlie to Leigh and Bean…
It was never the end when my mom passed away.
It was only a to be continued.
I see glimpses of her all the time in the faces of each and every one of my kids. Her sass, her strength, her laughter, her savagery 🙂 I see traces of her in all of them. Ren, Charlie, Bella and Ez. They all have pieces of her in one way or another that shines through them and sometimes I won’t even point it out. I’ll keep it to myself, along with a sigh of relief.
She’s still here.
Happy Mother’s Day Wanda May…We’ve shared so much of the same life mom.
The same path. I know that would have broken your heart, but I survived and I so hope I’ve done you justice by carrying your legacy right into the next generation of “Carson blood” 😉
You are remembered and not forgotten, loved effortlessly STILL even now, and never EVER will you be replaced.
Forever my muse….I absolutely adored your face.

WANDA MAY CARSON INGRAM
June 10th 1938 ~ May 22nd 2007
“Laughing with Jesus.”

Selah…~
Tommie-Girl

I am damaged. Most defiantly, all of us are.
Weather we failed at marriage, school, careers or gardening…It happens.
The main thing to remember is you can get the fuck over it. We’re not damaged goods, we’re human beings, we can survive pain, hardships, broken hearts, anything.
NO I’m not saying time heals ALL wounds. However, it does sooth them quite a bit. Life is a vapor of time man, one breath and it could be gone. Why waste what could be such a beautiful moment because of a “what if?” fear?
Don’t do that to yourself. We become our own worst enemies simply because we don’t believe we can get over something, whatever it may be. We can, we have. You reading this, do you remember how you felt on the worse day of your life?
How are you now?
I have ups, downs and my lows are lower than most of the people in my circle even know…but I get up, every day man. I smile. I live, love, laugh…You have too. If you remain stagnant in fear or comfortable in where you are then you will begin to wither.
To me? THAT would be the worst.
I jump feet first in adventure and what if’s all of the time. The failure of the last one was like a cement brick smacked right into my face, it sucked ass.  But what can you do?
Cry? I did.
Throw a rant? I most certainly did.
Now what?
Now I get the fuck over it and move on.
You can’t NOT take chances. If you don’t at least TRY you will NEVER know. Your “what if” will then become a “I wonder…” I’m not one to do that either. Granted, I would not recommend falling into feelings in a “fuckship” but hey, again, feet first with this chick! But guess what? I’m still here, blogging, getting my shit somewhat together and moving on. For me it will always be finding love that will fuck with my head. That constant feeling of “it’s just not for me” but it’s a whatever, if it happens I will embrace it for sure. I grew up in the 80’s. Every love story ended with the man of her dreams chasing her down in an airport, holding a boom box outside her bedroom window, interrupting a wedding (even if it was hers) or some crazy show of love by making a fool of himself so I have some pretty weird expectations of how MY story should end, haha But whatever yours is, don’t stop looking for it. Don’t wait while your life passes by because you don’t want to be rejected.
No matter what chance it is…take it.
The best chance you will have, will be the one you take.

Selah,
Cheryl