Perspective

Fear thunders in the background of my mind

While the storm of uncertainty begins

To destroy my self confidence

My new journey peaks at me

through the storm I must cross.

The excitement of possibilities strikes

lightening in my heart

But the flooding doubt rushes in.

Perhaps, this storm is meant to fill my sail

Or wash away the fear that I will fail.

Be present in your feelings

I see some of you are hurting and I want you to know, you’re worth so much more.

—————-

You’re going to be afraid to love again.
That hard exterior will grow around your heart
And bitterness will become easy.
You’ll cycle through the grief, anger,
Possibly spiral into temporary desperation –
Wishing they’d call;
Wishing they’d say those words
that water your soul –
but in a way that they mean it this time;
Not in a way that
They’ve said it before.
Not in a way
It left you wanting more,
Where they let it flow so carelessly
Off of their lips –
Where each syllable
Made you recall
The way their tongue curled
with every breathe of air
Passing across it.

Bitterness will be easy and
No one will blame you
for feeling it.

But – you’re only harming yourself.
Self harm in the form of holding on.
Emotional self harm
That scars and destroys
Your own sense of self respect
Your own dignity
Your own pride
Your own self worth.

Don’t let it.
Cry your tears
But then dry them.
Let yourself hurt
But then allow yourself to smile.
You’ll get chills.
That’s your body trying to reset.
You’ll be heart broken
And it’s okay to feel. Let yourself feel,
But you won’t find that fix in someone else.

That’s your work.
The person that broke it,
Won’t look back
Once they’ve broken you.
So show them
They haven’t destroyed you.
Raise your chin.
Wipe your tears.
Begin the mend.
When they realize
What they’ve done,
Who they’ve lost

  • you’ll be ready to keep them out.

Cassie Redfearn – Dec. 2019

Choosing Bravery

Loving yourself isn’t always easy
as a matter of fact
looking through your own bullshit
is difficult

No one else
will have to live with your thoughts
the way you do
No one else will notice
all of those imperfections
you worry over
stress over
try to fix
Try to hide
or just try to forget

Loving your curves
when magazines
and social media teach us
that thin is beautiful
and anything else
is a health hazard.
As if we don’t already know that
And eat that daily dread
With each bite of daily bread

We kick ourselves deeper
for every extra pound
we cannot shed
or dimple on our skin
that we cannot hide

Instead of loving ourselves
And having pride in the way
Our hips make our jeans tight
We squat to stretch them
We lay down to button them
Wear extra layers to hide them

Loving yourself isn’t easy
But it’s one of the bravest things you can do

Cassie Redfearn

Vulnerability

This morning’s reading brought me to a blog by Nadia Bolz-Weber. If you haven’t heard of her, guarantee you will not be disappointed if you look her up. Watch her videos or read her blogs. She has truly helped me see things from a different perspective.

Today’s story told of a time when a woman approached Nadia after an event where she had been speaking on stage. Wearing a scratchy red cardigan, this woman wrapped her arms tightly around Nadia and began to bless her with words. She wrote about the emotions that went through her mind. How that situation created an uncomfortable feeling that forced her to reflect on its meaning.

Reading that blog today brought up a few memories for me. I realized that I lived my childhood in a fight, flight, or freeze mode. While it remained invisible to the outside world or disguised as “weirdness,” there was an overwhelming feeling of unworthiness tucked deep inside. On the outside, others saw me as the weird girl that tried to please people or as the girl that quickly became overly emotional and lashed out in inappropriate ways. I would be lying if I said that wasn’t the case. My skin felt foreign to me. My eyes would meet their reflection in the mirror or a pool of water, and disbelief struck panic in my chest every time. The person staring directly back at me was indeed the person everyone else could see. My attempts to cover up, hide or tuck away had failed. Still yet, I remained visible to the world.

Have you ever felt like an alien in your own family? How about school? That was me during my most vulnerable years. As early as second grade, something pulled me apart from the rest of the crowd. No matter how hard I tried to fit in, I became more and more unlike everyone else around me.

In those moments when I needed to fit in the most, I stuck out like a sore thumb, all while feeling completely invisible. Unfortunately, many of those traits still follow me around to this very day despite therapy, self-discovery, and growth.

You cannot fit a square peg into a round hole. A square peg may try to make itself smaller to fit into the round hole. Still, it will have empty spaces around the edges. That’s how I felt through much of my life. Empty. Hollow. As if there was something in the shadows always waiting to get me, grab me, and pull me in. My thoughts scared the hell out of me. I lived my entire young life jumpy, easily angered, emotional, and always up in arms.

There will always be part of me that holds on to the hurt, scared, and “eager to fit in” little girl of my youth. But, at some point in life, we learn that it’s normal to feel out of place and that we’re much more typical than we ever realize.

Everyone has their insecurities.

Everyone has things that make them
uncomfortable.

That’s OKAY!

I’ve gone off topic a bit, so let’s get back to what I wanted to write.

After Nadia’s interaction with the woman in the red cardigan, this is what happened in her own words from the blog:

“I sat back down and think, “What the hell just happened?”  My friend Sara, having seen the entire interaction, slides into the pew next to me and says, “Girl, you gotta just submit and let people bless you.” – Nadia Bolz-Weber

“Submit and let people bless you.”

The reply hit me like a lightning bolt straight into my heart. I reread it.

“Submit and let people bless you.”

My chest began to feel heavy with a tinge of pain, my pulse started pounding, and my throat tightened. The word “submit” caused a reaction inside of my body, and I had no control.

“Why is my body reacting to this, even though I am safe and well?”

In my experiences from my childhood, submission involved terrible things. When I submitted, bad things happened, and despite the years of therapy, facing facts, and speaking truths, somehow they’ve managed to hold onto me. Luckily, therapy taught me how to do the work when this occurs. But, unfortunately, I cannot avoid these feelings; I deal with them as they come and dive straight through them, feel them, and harness them.

Thankfully, Nadia’s blog today helped me practice the technique that brought me back to my center.

Her friend is right. Sometimes we need to “SUBMIT” and allow others to bless us. If we are operating in the fight, flight, or freeze mode, we could miss the good things people are trying to bring into our lives. We must have positive human connections and intimacy; Not sex, intimacy.

Thankfully, as I learn, bend, and grow into full awareness of myself, allowing people to love me is something I fight a little less every day. But, like greasing the hinges on the door to your childhood home, some things need a bit more attention than others or fine-tuning. So over time, I will need to grease the doors again, and that’s okay! Because now I know the root of the problem and how to fix it.

Cassie C. Redfearn

CLAY

(Written October 23, 2013)

Photo by javedchawla
on flickr

October 23 2013

To live and love through hurt and pain is all that I know.

My love is vibrant and enduring,

Patient kind and slow.

My kindness has been too much

For others to weather.

Pick apart and throw away

All the pieces that you hate of me

Turn me into something

That gives you more sympathy.

Change me, mold me

Until you have it all.

Lay the blame down on me

When you begin to fall.

Tell me how I’ve changed,

From someone that you once loved.

Though your ways and words formed me to fit you like a glove.

Bullets or seeds

Staring into the ripples

of my mirrored surrounding

Reflecting my lost memories

There I see my mother

Explaining why Democracy is the only way forward

Her voice echos through my ears

and sticks like a tack to wall

My father laughs and jokes

“Republicans aren’t worth the sense(cents) they were given.”

Though he refers to money,

his play on words are hidden.

Fight for the small, those that do without

“THE REPUBLICANS CAUSE IT ALL!”,

They said that without a doubt

Now as I stand at this reflecting pool

Watching these shadows of my past

My family have all abandoned

the seeds they sowed at last

Propaganda wins it all

In the end we lose

Yelling screaming fighting one another

Is this the life we choose?

I am now 35

and still

I do not understand

I’d rather separate myself from others

Than have a loved one bite my hand

Snowflake

Libtard

Demtard

The list goes on and on.

The hate behind those words

They create demons with each strand.

Words are seeds if you so choose

Or bullets you sow inside those in which you speak

The Government is doing wrong

Not those of us with pen in our hands

But curse and cut if you please

that’s what they want you to do

Slice and dice each other

Make us less to chew

Curse me if you must

Because my opinion is skewed from your own

Hate me if you will

Because we see through difference lenses

Kaleidoscope of views

A different view from every angle

All are wrong and none of right

But gather your swords and daggers of hate

In the end, you words will be victorious

And the broken hearts – well –

It’ll be too late.

Snowflakes

Cassie C Redfearn

Sweet Dreams

Magic Moonlight Night on the Lake Painting by Elaine Plesser

My soul drifts among the stars
Wandering distant places
Reaching still
Further unto the unknown


She sleeps in her bed at night
Peaceful
Finally she is able to join me
But only in her dreams


We dance and sway
Amongst the stars
The time stops at our laughter.
Our hearts create flares.


The time, it cannot stay.
Slip away, as it must.b
Away it drifts, as does a dream
And I become a fading dust.

Cassie C Redfearn

Generational curses

One generation will always bicker about the next.

One generation CREATED the next. One generation CREATED the habits of the next. One generation RAISED the next. The previous generation created the traumas that the next generation is reacting to.

When we start taking responsibility for our pieces on the board and stop blaming each other, we can be accountable and realize how to improve ourselves. So many people focus on everyone else but themselves.

If more people looked at the path they’re walking and stopped pointing fingers in the direction of others, we’d have a lot more goodness in this world.