He knows the inflections in the tone of my voice. He knows if I’m smiling or crying silently. He speaks me fluently. And when I cry myself to sleep I feel him. Holding me. Maybe I’m delusional. But, I feel his presence as I back my body up into him. I can smell his scent. I feel his beard against my neck. I wake up recharged. Maybe it’s because, when we fall asleep our mirror images meet amongst the cosmos and stars and as our avatars fill our space in beds. We can’t sleep. Take the pain away. We go through the motions and count down the days. The closer it gets the more I miss him. I check fbop daily just to see if this mission has an early completion. My heart I keep extending. Lately it’s got the best of me. I inhale my clients problems. I loan them my breath to help them breathe. I’ve had more than a handful tell me that hush goes into their therapy expense category. On Sundays I detox. My entire body physically hurts. I take my job home and receive so many texts I can’t keep up with my life. It’s taking away from my duty of being the perfect wife. But, he knows me so well. He helps me through the flames as I’m lost in hell. I follow his voice. He is my addiction. Understands the affliction. Suffering and self sabotage. Reminds me I’m worthy and of ALL my gifts. He encourages me to write. To regurgitate the suffering inside. Flush the Hushed life I lead. The thought of not having him I can’t even conceive. I’m so fucking tired of taking the lead. Some days I’m beyond tired of being strong. As the days get closer I dream about becoming a mother. My clock ticks louder with each day. I hate myself for the mistakes I’ve made. I could have a mini us. But, no fear took over and that gift was flushed. I’ll never forgive myself for that. I live with that pain everyday. His kindness and patience is how I self medicate. My fingers move so fast. I don’t even know what I’m typing. I do a spell check and publish the pain inside me.
This was a really tough weekend. I’m under the gun. I can’t even fathom the thought of having some fun. He says I’m wound so tight. I need to loosen up. I don’t know how. I’m on a money chase. I’m doing my very best to grind with grace when lately all I feel is rage. I’m back to my fuck you pay me mentality. My kindness taken for weakness is what I feel in me. I sip my baileys and contemplate. How I plan to win this race. Because, nobody remembers second place. I’m here to win. With him. I have the right to remain silent. I’m ALL in.
I fuck with a Boss. I worship a cross. I’m a star baller being coached by the mastermind of hustler. My grinds gritty. My face pretty. I loathe self-pity. My language witty. My dream crush fifty. I gotta lot of sense. Not common. Rare. Flawless. Like Bey.. I woke up like this. Yeah, I woke up like this.
I crush hard. I’m shy. I pull my hush card. I’ll always look you in your eyes. Social anxiety. I run solo. Trekking up this mountain. I’m ADD. I’m manic. I hate. Hate. I love. Love. No panic. Bipolar. Coastal. I hydrate in ocean lined states. I’m a body mechanic. Hush Tan body enhancement. My bed a hammock. A mental tune-up. I feel better with color on my skin. I feel better with color in-ME. My ocean runs deep. Mahriah’s island. My secret lush garden. My etheric energy causes you to harden. Demons creep. I weep my insecurities to four am. My inner turmoil. I regroup by digging my hands in soil. Life. Living. Giving. LOYAL. Change means growth. I’m growing so fast I need new clothes. Straps on my boots broke. Constantly pulling them up. Super glued soles. No excuses. Superglue hold. I win on a bluff. No crutch. I’m icy. Chanel shades. Feisty. Fuck I am who I am. I am Mahriah. A survivor. A girl on fire. A super woman. A wild wind. A force with in. A Sasha fierce. You want a piece of me?? Britney Spears. I’m crazy sexy cool. Around the world girl. I’ve lived lives within life. I’ve lived that world. Right now I’m in the cut. Laying low. Shaping. Sharpening. Shadowing Mahriah Z.
I can’t get enough of this girl. I’m addicted to her. I’m conflicted by her. I need to know her. Adore her. I’m falling in love with her. Love making love to her. I’m beginning to become her. My characters are beginning to merge. All the extra I’m learning to purge. Communications getting better. I’m learning to use my words.
My smile is my sword. Fuck my lock pick. Universal language my smile opens ALL doors. Floorboards silent. My stilettos on the shelf. Grind time. I rock my combat boots. My roots. Authorized housing. Bright blue door. I learned to ask for what I need and take what I want. I’m in my head. I’m in my body. I feel less crowded. Less sweet. More naughty. Personal space. Perimeter me. By invitation only.
At thirty-five. I’ve lived a few lives in this lifetime of mine. Wild Wind, Billets Doux, Love Letters, Imagine Me, Memoirs of a Masterminds Hold Card, Hush Tan. ALL have made me who I am. I grind with grace. I grind like I’m a contestant in the Olympics race. It’s taken me until now to gain the courage to merge the characters of each of these chapters of my life. ALL of these businesses began with a dream. A glimmer of hope inside me that came to light. Mostly red. Hush Tan turned green and I have been fiercely on the GO. The sole bread-winner. I carry a heavy load. So many ask me how. Ask me why? I’ve chosen to live my current life. My “why” is quite complex. Every business I’ve ever started came from love. Has to do with love. Love is who I am. It’s what I wish to sprinkle ALL over the world. I’m currently doing it soul by soul. Inspiring. Lifting. Listening. Comforting. Dis-comforting. Then bringing them back with a laugh attack. This is my therapy. “Hush” has taught me more about me then any other singular chapter in my life’s work.
I’ve learned to trust. Have faith. Work harder than I’ve ever worked before. I’ve learned how to be alone. Not take on self-pity. I’ve learned to LEARN. Educate myself on everything and figure it out on my own. Sacrifice. Lots… and lots of sacrifice. I now know independence. I know what it feels like. I’m a solo business owner and a prison wife. I’m a dog mom. I’m a homemaker. I’m a cleaning woman. I’m a book-keeper. I’m a daughter and daughter in-law. I’m a step-mom, granddaughter, sister, aunt and cousin. What I’m not much of is a friend. I’m a great acquaintance. I have not mastered friendship. I can’t figure it out. I’m private. Yet I’m an open book. I don’t have time and people take that personal. I work a gazillion hours per week. I have four facebook, twitter, instagram and email accounts. Which ALL receive a mass messages. I’ve been reluctant to merge my lives. I’m now ready and realize. This is who I am. And to be successful. I can no-longer keep up with the divisions, the characters. I’m ALL-in. This is me. I’m Hold Card. I AM MAHRIAH.
My brother once said to me… which I’ll never forget. I said to him over that recorded prison call.. What if my clients find out who I really am? He said, are those clients you’d really want anyway? I said, right now I need every client I can get. He said, that is not true. You just need a few who are loyal. He then went on to say… Mahriah it’s normal for people to judge. It’s what we do. It’s our instincts. We judge everything and everyone. For instance, the guy on the corner holding the sign. We say to ourselves should I give him my last five dollars? Does he need it more than me? Even though he looks so clean?? We must judge. It’s when we pass judgement. That’s when we lose. We should never pass judgment on one another. We should never condemn another. That is wrong. We judge. We do-not pass judgment. It took me a long time to understand the difference and process that. I said isn’t it the same thing?! He said just think about it.
I did think about it. A lot.
My clients and I talk about everything. It’s a vulnerable position to be standing naked in front of anyone for up-to an hour. If they ask me a direct question. One thing I’m not is a liar. I’ve alluded to where my husband is. But, if they directly ask me. I’ve told a few. Which was not easy for me. Anxiety flutters through me. Will they pass judgment on me? Will they be afraid to pay with their credit card? Do they think I’m a bad person? Do they still trust me? What do they think of me? Do they think I’m beneath them? Will they come back? Will the word get out?
My brother said are those clients you would want anyway? They tell you their truths. Trust you with their pain. Do they deserve to know yours? Where do you draw the line of professionalism?
He’s absolutely right. I’m ready to merge my lives. #HUSH (now… you really know) #FREEDOM