I am Woman.

This is my first time posting on the website since I made the decision to have a complete abdominal hysterectomy. I felt myself walk away from writing. I felt myself walk away from opening my heart to the world (or at least the small section of you who follow me) and I was confident that this was okay. Not anymore. In creating this blog, I vowed to share the authentic pieces of life that most people cower away from. I promised my readers that no matter the circumstance, I was their open book. My sole purpose is to reach at least one person who is encouraged enough by my story to either share their own or break free from bondage. This blog was supposed to be a source of service, and service does not stop when it gets hard, so neither will I.

I had the surgery on May 9, 2018. It wasn’t until 9 days later, at exactly 3:19pm that I pressed my head up against my mama and wept. I wasn’t naïve enough to think that I would be okay immediately after, but the crying was so raw, so intense, so painful, that all I could do was sleep after. She held me. I’ve never been held like that before, and I’m thankful that even in the depths of my brokenness, her love prevailed.

Fair warning, this may be a long post, but as these tears rub against my cheeks, I’m confident it’s supposed to be shared in its fullness.

I won’t talk about the sleepless night, the desire to walk on days I couldn’t, or even the physical pain that came with surgery. I want to share more about the mental battle I found myself in; the battle for my joy. There were a few words I wrote over and over again in my journal. I went back and highlighted them so I could visualize their continuity in my heart. These words have led to more growth than I could conjure up on my own, and I’m excited to share. The pictures in this post are a product of a photo-shoot that was supposed to exemplify the beauty in that. There is beauty in my process, and although many people may not sit and wait for it to bloom, I know it’s coming. I thank God for sending Emily  , her camera, and her love for service in truth my way.

LIFE+ POWER + WOMANHOOD

Life: This one has been fairly new in my journal, and conversation with friends. I’ve written life 78 times since the morning of my procedure. Many of those times, it was paired with the word “Create.” I felt like I’d completely relinquished my ability to create life. I felt broken, but more than that, I felt like I’d broken myself. Maybe I should have taken better care. Maybe I should have had kids sooner. Maybe I should have done things differently, and I would be able to do one of the most beautiful things this dark world has to offer; create new life. I gravitate toward nature. Flowers, trees, animals, generally anything that goes through a process most people won’t sit and watch– in order to become what it is intended to be. I found life in myself. I saw growth that I’d started to ignore because I was losing a part of me that I’d cherished for so long. I learned that I have the ability to breathe life. My words have power, and in using them to glorify God and serve His people, I can rest in the fact that losing the ability to give birth naturally is a loss, but a gain one in the same.

 Sunflower

Power: Since May 9th, I’ve written the word power in my journal a total of 157 times. Power is simply defined as one’s ability to do something. It almost seems silly to say it, and quite honestly, when I mentioned having struggled with power very few people understood. I’d felt like I lost power over my life. Not only was I unable to decide whether or not to have children, I was at a place physically where my body didn’t allow me to do anything. There were days I couldn’t stand up, walk, bathe, bend, stretch, and I never realized how the ownership over my physical self was being stripped away. It hurt. I felt useless and more than that powerless. It took weeks for me to finally sit down, anger in my heart and fear in my eyes, and admit that this power was never mine. Time and time again I tried to justify my brokenness with half-hearted encouragements. I needed to fully rely on God, and so I did. The power of His love has slowly been restored in me. I’ve never felt more empowered and driven to bask in the fact that even I am precious. I am fierce. I cannot be duplicated, and there is no woman like me. He created me uniquely beautiful from the inside out, and I love it.

Shakiya

Womanhood: Since April 9th, I’ve written the word womanhood in my journal 198 times. Clearly, it’s been heavy on my mind. Dear people in this life, when a woman is faced with barrenness, please, I beg of you, do not say “Well there’s always adoption…”

  1. This completely disregards the fact that she had a desire that has been stripped away. That in itself hurts. So, imagine walking into the hospital and handing that same desire over along with its future possibility… saying, “well do this INSTEAD” is a dagger. Stop it. I know people who have gone their entire lives wanting something, and that desire is there because it has every right to be. There’s no sense in offering up an obvious ‘solution’.
  2. This completely disregards the fact that these women are likely mourning the death of an unborn child. That may sound farfetched to some but think about it. In conversation, most people mention what sort of parent they’ll be if they aren’t already. They discuss the desire for a son or daughter and why. It’s pretty common. That’s gone. Respect that loss.

In addition, I felt like because I’m unmarried, and childless, my worth in society somewhat plummeted. Hi, I’m Shakiyla Solomon, an educated Black woman and whether or not you want to admit it, that means nearly nothing in American society today. Few people will get excited or even encourage women in their careers, traveling, personal growth, or entrepreneurship because those things don’t make a “woman.” GRANTED, these are not absolutes, and I’m thankful that there are some exceptions, but for the most part, marriage and children define womanhood. I love my life. I love the direction it is going and I’m thankful that I’m finally at a point where the world’s desires for me don’t align with mine and that’s okay. I didn’t realize how much society had molded my own thinking, and in this silence, I found freedom. Does that mean I won’t adopt? Absolutely not. Does that mean I’m shunning all men? Not at all. What I am doing though, is living life at the pace its moving and learning to embrace it. I’m growing.

Shakiyla

These three words continue to penetrate my mind and heart, and as I sift through my personal healing, I’m learning that there is peace on the other side. I will soon be in Africa, and there I will have the ability to love, serve, and lead children and young adults in the ways of love and life. I have been granted the opportunity to serve in a capacity I never thought possible. I’m thankful for these lessons, and more than anything, I’m thankful for the evident growth that has come along with them. Find your truths. Find the things that are hiding behind the lies that have slowly drowned you. Cover them. If you feel like you can’t find them. If you feel like you are an exception and that there is no peace awaiting you, message me and we can work on finding and/or creating one together.

Thank you for reading.

I love you.

The Diagnosis.

It’s 3:26 am, and I can’t sleep because my body won’t let me. I realized that I’ve been avoiding all of the things that bring me joy, and writing is easily in the Top 3. In my last blog, I gave you the run-down of what my trip to D.C ended up being, and never actually gave the details of my doctor visits.

In short, those tumors have steadily grown over the past six months, and I have to get them removed. Many people have told me miracle stories of how they shrunk and disappeared because of faith, but I know my faith, and that just hasn’t been my story. They are still growing, and my doctor is ready to remove them. The one on my uterus, which was said to be 5.5 inches is now 6.25. The one on my cervix is still 3 inches, and the kidney tumor hasn’t grown much at all. I have nights like these when I feel like there’s a spear pushing down into my abdomen and I can’t get comfortable enough to sleep. I will soon get up from my desk, get dressed, and go to work, and I pray for the strength and ability to see past pain and be what my students deserve.

The thing that makes me most anxious about all of this is my doctor’s recommendation of a full hysterectomy. Again, people love to tell me their miracle stories, but my body and my God has yet to move in the way theirs has, so I’m trusting my process as is. A hysterectomy changes the plan I had for my future. It makes all of my friends’ pregnancies painful and beautiful all at once. I’m able to pray for them in ways I never thought I could or would. I’m able to appreciate the beauty of childbearing and childbirth while being an encouragement to them. Lots of my family members tell me not to get the surgery, but they don’t have to endure this pain. They don’t feel the tumor when they lie down to go to sleep. They don’t take 15-20 minutes to urinate because their bladder is constricted, and I’m tired of living life this way. I want to enjoy my body again. I want to work out. I want to jog with Aries. I want to live, and these ailments are making it impossible. No doctor has been able to guarantee that they won’t come back, so I’m no longer interested in living my life on the basis of possibility.

I want my freedom back.

Freedom to travel. Freedom to move. Freedom to exist in a way that I desire, not a way that my body allows.

All of this to say, it has been an exhaustive process. My brothers have seen me more broken in the past month than they have my entire life. My mama has had me curled up in her lap more than I think she did in my adolescence. I’m being humbled, and some days, I hate it. I have lost lots of friends, and many of them just don’t know what to do with this, but that’s okay because my love won’t waiver, and I’m thankful for my support system which continues to GROW.

I’m waiting for my insurance to approve the surgery, and upon approval, I will be back here- sharing my journey to recovery. Hopefully I will have more exciting and less medicinal news soon. In the meantime though, whatever it is that’s weighing you down, whatever is stealing your joy, tell it NO. Temporary brokenness cannot define your permanent joy. Refuse. Fight back. Submit it and leave it where it lies. You are not alone, at least you don’t have to be. I’d love more ham anything to walk alongside you. Thank you for walking alongside me. Thank you for hearing me. Thank you for reading.

I love you.

im His daughter.

Image

I’m a thinker. I find myself sitting in the room, in my car, or at the foot of the Cross creating scenarios in my head. I don’t find it strange, sometimes it’s simply an interference during my day. So, I’m sitting on the couch in the living room right now right? I find myself thinking about what I would say to Charles, my father, if I had the chance. Now, my introduction wasn’t much of an introduction so I guess y’all don’t know much about our relationship. Well, to make a long story short, there was none. He left when I was 5, called on my 10th and 12th birthdays, called the week before he died, and died when I was 14. Now, you may think it cold of me to be all cavalier-like when discussing the death of the man that took part in creating me, but like I said before, we had little to no communication.

So, back to my initial thought. I’m just thinking, if I was ever given the opportunity to say one thing to him, what would I say? Well, I’m 21years old. I’ve never had to love a man and I’m struggling to learn how. My God is my Father and I sometimes struggle with learning how to love Him as well. All this to say, the whole “daddy” thing is not really my FORTE. Well, the more I thought, the more I ran through my head, the more I struggled with what I would even say.

I think I’ve concluded that I’d thank him.

I’d thank him for his deciding to build a relationship with my younger sister instead of me. That pretty much has shown me that NO man can ever be trusted to ALWAYS choose me first, other than my God. No matter my situation, age, innocence, nothing. God is the only one I am absolutely sure has chosen and always will choose me.

I’d also thank him for leaving my moms to raise me on her own. She is now the spitting image of what it takes to become a God-fearing woman WITHOUT the leadership of an EARTHLY man. She had to learn on her own what it meant to devote herself to God. She had to understand that she is not the father in our family but is given the honor to let God take the leading role when raising up my brothers and myself. She was put in a situation where when provision was questionable, her faith had to be solid in the fact that our God was the provider. She had to see him as the head of the household and teach us to look to Him for guidance and understanding.

I think I may also thank him for calling me when he was sick. Not sarcastically, or out of spite, I’d whole heartedly  thank that man. In those few minutes, laying at his bedside, watching him waste away, he showed me that no matter how wrong someone has ever done me, no matter how hard my heart will ever grow, no matter how abandoned, betrayed, deceived, or rejected one person has ever made me feel, that I am called to love them like my Father has loved me. I vividly remember that night. I see his face in my mind more than I’d like. I remember. Those memories simply remind me of how bad it can get, but it’ll never compare to the way I deny God with my sin and he continues to sit and my bedside, as I’m wasting away, losing myself, trying to tie loose ends, he still sits at my bedside and pours out His love to me in the most pure and satisfying way.

I’m not sure why Charles did the things he did. I’m not sure why he left. I’m not sure why he called. There are many questions I’ve wanted to ask him but now, while I sit on this couch, listening to John Legend, I’ve decided that all I’d want to do is thank him.

My God is more Father than he could have ever been and having to tell myself that when I struggle in any relationship is just another form of growth…i guess…

Matthew 23:9 says

“And call no man your father on earth, for you have one Father, who is in heaven.”

that verse brings me a ton of peace. I’m not sure when I’ll do a “biographyish” blog. I’m not really sure if i even want to. I just know I’m really thankful for my daddy and the way He loves me.

goodnighty ❤