So these advice giving this morning, I took a pause and a breath. I tell myself that if it were me on the other side, what would I like to hear?
I want honesty. 
Motherhood is hard and it sucks.
Writing is hard and it sucks. 
Yeah, we're all in some semblance of this world together but your hard (whatever that looks like and feels like) isn't how my hard looks and feels. 
I told the mom this morning that this is just a season. There are probably more thunderstorms than sunshine. And yeah, winter is coming. It's hard. I don't enjoy winter. But at some point, there has to be a break....right? There is hope that this will all just be another hard season we had to get over. I can't promise when this season of hard will be over but I can promise that I can find you tools and resources to hunker down and shelter you from these storms. I can promise you that I have found myself in these trenches more often that enjoying the little bit of sunshine in whatever season I was in. I can promise that you will not be alone in these storms. 

As far as for the creatives who wonder how to be a writer in the midst of pain and disabilities - that's the easiest part: write. Write a word. Focus on 2 words...now form a sentence. It does not have to be perfect. It does not have to make sense.
It does not even have to leave the pages of your journal. 
Write what you know. And if all you now is pain, explore that. Maybe in the pages, you'll find how brave you really are. 

Whatever season you are in, may you find yourself a listening ear......I will say that blank pages in a notebook are the best kind of receivers for the heavy and the hard. ​

Thankful to have this poem, "this is what I know" added to Lannang Articles' project on culture, identity and language. I had written this poem this past Spring when I attended a session with fellow Pinoy creatives. It was the first time I had been surrounded by poets of diaspora. I didn't even have to explain the meanings of this poem as we took a few minutes after a prompt on language. They knew. They understood what memories and phrases that come to the surface and pop like bubbles meant. Fleeting and magical and for a moment, a crystal clear remembrance of knowing of the native tongue. 
I haven't been able to join in other sessions, but it did my soul good seeing Pinoy poets and listening to their stories and poems. I need more of that, please. 
Anyway, here it is below: 

Here’s what I know:
Usa lang ako. I am one.
I am alone.
Mahal ko…..STOP.
Sayap. I am sorry. Words escape me,
And my mother tongue gets duller as I age.
For more of 'Here's what I know, go here: ​https://www.lannangarchives.org/post/here-s-what-i-know

I had my 20th High School reunion a week ago. I must admit, I wasn't excited to go and had to be prompted multiple times by my husband to just show up. It wasn't that I had a terrible experience, far from it, and perhaps I don't even truly understand my own hesitation. I obviously am not the same girl who walked down those halls. I barely remember any of it. The parts I do remember were confined within the auditorium and backstage. I loved theater. It wasn't necessarily the lights and applause, those were just bonuses. I loved theater simply for the idea that I got to be someone else for the length of rehearsals and the show. I got to be loud. I got to be quiet. A princess. A snob. A myriad of different people over the course of 4 years. 
I got to explore. And that was my key takeaway.
I had this amazing avenue where I could be angry or sad, or extremely funny or bold. 
And I miss that. 
I miss having that escape and exploration. Mind you, I do have my moments and usually they're expressed in my writings. I get to explore different characters and find their foundation........and while I don't get the satisfaction of an applause, I do find closure in writing 'the end.' 

Theater was my second home. And I am grateful for having those moments (good and bad). I do remember my 18 year old self wanting to explore and write. I wonder what she would think about me? 
​I'm still writing. Still musing and observing. I don't have this overwhelming need for validation or applause. I still find those quiet moments outside to reflect. I hope she's proud of this life we've lived.
​I sure am. ​

I would be remiss if I didn't list out your accomplishments over the course of 20 years:

1. Married for almost 14 years
2. Survived pregnancy complications to have 2 amazing humans
3. Found your voice in advocacy
4. Wrote a novella, a ya romance, a memoir and a chapbook to date
5. Has been published in various journals, presses, anthologies
6. While it may have taken a while, you got your degree

Somewhere in those 2 decades, are a kaleidoscope of the people I was and needed to be. ​

So thankful for the team at Agape Review, their kind words and their acceptance on my poem, "One Day,"

One day,
my cries will sound like hallelujahs,
And this ache and burden I have been carrying
will feel weightless
And freeing.

One day,
I will stop bargaining over sickness
and rejoice in the health of the now.
I will train my eyes upward and follow
the path set before me, instead of wondering
if someone else’s journey is better than mine.

More, click here: agapereview.com/2021/09/03/oneday/

​On days like this, I miss the country. It rained last night, cooling everything around us. The wind and trees whisper that summer just might be over soon. I walked as far as I could to get away from the roar of cars and trucks but I've never walked this trail by myself, and when I finally found the curve in the trail where the cicadas drowned out the city, I stopped. And took this picture. ❤️❤️

But somewhere around the worries, I find myself wondering what now? What do I do from here? Where do I go? Do I keep studying for this test for this career (teaching) I'm not even sure about. Do I keep sending 2 completed chapbooks hoping the Universe finds a home for them? Do I keep going through the motions until something leads me where I need to go?

​As a mental health advocate, I'd be remiss not to mention my thoughts out loud, in case someone needs to hear this.

Hello Readers!
Summer Book Lover's Day is August 9 and we are Celebrating ALL WEEK with a HUGE giveaway!

I have partnered up with Celebrate Lit Publicity to do an amazing giveaway where you can win a spectacular prize of over 35 books or a $500 Amazon gift card to buy books you love to hold you over until Christmas!

Be sure to enter Celebrate Lit's 2nd Annual Summer Book Lover's Multi-Author Giveaway going on now through August 15.

Enter here: https://promosimple.com/ps/10ec7/2021-summer-book-lover-s-day

So thankful that my poem, "early start" was accepted for Issue 2 of Querencia Magazine. This one was a journey, written during my training as a Patient Family Partner Certification for Momma's voices. There was a point in the training, were we had to do a 2 minute storytelling pitch. I was reliving memories and the guilt and anger washed over me. I had to remind myself that my kiddos are healthy. She is indeed fierce and NINE. Having a traumatic birth cannot let me just remember all the good....my body only remembers the tears, the closing in of itself, the endless bargaining.

Anyway, here it is, 'early start'

This was not how I planned the start
of motherhood. But here she is, encased in glass,
tubes and wires surrounding her and a machine that
voices her heartbeat. And there I am,
sitting beside her, bargaining to a god that I’ve
believed in all my life that this isn’t how its’
supposed to be and how could we both fail at the thing
we were supposed to be good at? ...

more over here: hiccups (page 32)

Feel free do download the pdf below OR follow here for issue two. 

My poem, 'the jungle that birthed me,' is out at Rigorous Mag. 

​"All my life, I’ve been told about how women like
me should be; submissive, small, light skin, and quiet as a
mouse. The picture of timidness, compliance, one who rarely..." for more, click here. 

I should have done this seperately, but let's be honest. I'm a mom with 2 kids and my "me time," is ticking. 

For her 18th birthday, Lenora Grace Williams is given a box. Aside from trinkets and photographs, there are three handwritten letters from her mother, written before she died. While reading the letters, Lenora wrestles with finding her faith, following her heart, and forgiving the secrets and heartache her mother left behind.
Goodreads link: 
​https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/58260483-letters-to-lenora
​Amazon preorder: 
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B096N3BTFF/ref=sr_1_1?

Let's be honest here, I forgot what my monthly goals were and was only reminded about it being Tuesday....a few hours ago. SIGH. 
I'm continuing to write when I can - about faith, pmdd, shifting identities and seasons in motherhood, advocacy - and if the poem is enough to stand on its' own, I submit to journals that I come across. I was going to wait until the end of the year for this list, but I'm going to do a 5 month "check in," for the sake of accountability.
Submitting to journals and getting rejected obviously isn't fun.....and half the time, I don't know WHY I even subject myself to the "thanks but not thanks," email. But I once read somewhere that all it takes is just one yes....the one that matters.... that keeps me going.
I have no idea where that yes is going to come from but I believe in that "one day, it will happen." 
​
SOooo here are some stats for you:
Since January 1st, I have submitted to 17 journals/lit mags for essays, poems, and completed chapbook.
10/17 REJECTIONS
3/17 ACCEPTANCES
4/17 AWAITING RESPONSES

It's only the 1st of June and we haven't even started our submission process yet. But there you have it. 5 months into 2021 and this poet was rejected up to 10 times out of 17. 
And I'm still standing - ha! 
How's your submission process going? 

1.) Submitted a poem called, "the voice," to Please See Me (rejected)
2.) Submitted pmdd & me chapbook to Porkbelly Press (rejected)​
3.) Submitted pmdd & me chapbook to Perhappened Press (rejected)​

4.) Submitted a poem called, "the cry of the struggle," to Dropout Publishing (rejected)
5.) Submitted a poem called, "the cry of the struggle," to Second Chance Lit (rejected)
6.) Submitted a poem, "my anxious self," & prose, "dear anxious believer," to Pearshaped Press (awaiting)

7.) Submitted pmdd & me chapbook to Selcouth Station (awaiting)​
8.) Submitted 2 poems, "cry of the struggle," and "this is how I'm surviving," to Revue Post (rejected)
9.) Submitted a poem called, "me too," to Brave Voices Magazine (rejected) 
10.) Submitted a poem called, "the jungle that birthed me," to Rigorous (accepted)
11.) Submitted 3 poems, "thou shalt remain nameless," "growing up girl," and "the state of things" to Antiherioine chic  (rejected)
12.) Submitted 3 poems, shower, cry, repeat," "lessons in motherhood," and "the things we carry" to Fahmidan Journal  (rejected)
13.) Submitted a poem called, "this is how I'm surviving," to Marías at Sampaguitas​ APRIL Contest (WON 3rd place)!

14.) Submitted a poem called, "lessons in motherhood," to  Literary Mama on 5/6/21 (rejected). 
15.) Submitted a personal essay called, "raising babies in the hyphen," to The Nasiona for their True Stories en Vivo call on 5/12 (awaiting).
16.) Submitted a poem called, "early start," to querencia magazine on 5/12 (Accepted for July 2nd issue). 
17.) Submitted a poem called, "here's what I know," to The Lannang Archives on 5/27 (awaiting).