Spite? And the point of that is... ?

Vengeful, mean, cruel, rancorous. Spiteful, revengeful, vindictive refer to a desire to inflict a wrong or injury on someone, usually in return for one received. Spiteful implies a mean or malicious desire for (often petty) revenge: a spiteful attitude toward a former friend, lover or spouse.

What is the point of hurting someone just because they did not appease you in a way you desired. It doesn't have to be a sexual thing or anything romantic. It can be a decision you made, a person you chose to love, a relocation to advance your career, or your need to simply find peace of mind and rid yourself of the toxicity in your life. Believe it or not there are people who will do and say things to hurt and harm you merely out of spite. Sometimes it's when they say nothing at all and simply refuse to be amicable or mature about whatever situation they feel you put them in to inconvenience their life. If there is anything that I have learned is to never feel guilty for making the right choices for yourself and those you love. No you don't deserve the spiteful things other may do or say to and/or about you, continue on with your journey. 

Never doubt the power of your words

All you can do is try.... and try you should :)

ME..........Trying ;-)

And Then It Finally Clicked...

There's nothing like that feeling when it finally all clicks in your head. When you finally understand exactly why a certain thing is a certain way.  I will never forget the day 5 years ago when my then therapist K. Genevieve Davidge spoke to me "You just have one of those personalities where it will always be difficult to make friends and have relationships of meaning." I truly believed the moment she spoke those words that was my Aha! moment and allowed that one statement to control my life for years until I realized; Wait! I do have the ability to maintain friendships I just hold a higher standard of people (the same standards I hold for myself) to be kind , decent, and sincerely care about the other individual and/or the person I call a friend. The pattern that I have been seeing is people (well, first off think I am in my twenties immediately) and begin to make assumptions about who I am before they've ever uttered a single word to me. They don't understand how I could possible be black, female, born into poverty but can somehow speak well, convey myself with decency, and carry myself with pride. To other girls like myself who grew up in unfortunate circumstances there is a very distinct line, those of us who "made it out" and those who never left the block we grew up on. I left and in a sense never looked back. I never felt I was leaving a place that was good to me or for me. My memories of California were so horrendous I couldn't wait for my first opportunity to leave. I truly believe that my Grandmother did the best she could trying to instill love, but she had her own demons and I could only imagine what it was like to lose her daughter (my mother) at the precious young age of 16. I raised myself. As i learned what a book was and the endless possibilities and worlds I could escape to everyday my love of words began to blossom. It's not about what you say, its how you say it, and from that moment on there was no stopping me. I began to speak well, use my words and choose my words wisely. I found a way how to stay true to my inner introvert yet stand out from the rest. I began to notice my 'Family" look at me differently, begin to exclude me from their world more often, and me, slipping further and further away from the truth I already knew but was afraid to face, My mother's family. After I graduated high school in the state of Texas where I lived at the time of my senior year to take care of my grandmother I never Looked back. The next 11 years of my life had it's ups and downs. The most glorious time within that entire time frame was giving birth and raising my beautiful Daughter Abigail. The last two years of my life can only be described as a time I merely existed. The hurt, shame and guilt were beyond overwhelming. The fact that I am still here and persevering is only the work of the Lord. I wouldn't know where to begin with my testimony, just know that me simply breathing is nothing but his Grace and Mercy.

Grace - Tasha Cobbs