𝐼𝑛ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑠 𝑜𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑛 𝑏𝑒𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑒𝑡𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑠.
@theweightofdivinity
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𝐼𝑛ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑠 𝑜𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑛 𝑏𝑒𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑒𝑡𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑠.
@theweightofdivinity
My life story, my faith, my resilience, my dreams, my goals, my rebirths, with video linked below 💕
in my coming back from the brink I remain free ✨️
You feel so deeply because you're here to break the generational chains in your lineage. You are forced to feel the emotions that your parents and grandparents didn't heal from. You're here to break the generational cycle by feeling, processing and healing your pain.
-Ash Alves
No one can escape Universal Law.
We saw Mercedes and Terricka break a generational cycle. Through 3 generations of women. They broke an unhealthy mother-daughter relationship that was in the early stages of forming. That generational trauma that unfortunately many moms and daughters have. They broke a cycle of maternal abuse within their family — one that Mercedes unfortunately experienced at the hands of her own mother (even though we saw her exhibit it towards Terricka in that one moment; but that'll be the only time). They broke a systemic cycle of poverty that often comes right along with teen motherhood.
As uncertain and terrifying Terricka's pregnancy was to not only Terricka but her mama too, it was a catalyst that allowed them to come together for the first time. Her pregnancy brought them together. Mercedes took the reins of a mother being there for her daughter. The circumstances was life-changing and that's when she needed her the most. Mercedes was there.
What Mercedes did differently, than what she was given or even offered with her own mother when she was younger, was she allowed Terricka to have a choice. A CHOICE. The option of either keeping the baby or not. And all the contemplating that comes with making a decision for this. It isn't easy. And it isn't simple. How fitting was this episode with the current state of women's health? The timing was so on point.
Terricka's constant "I'on know" was frustrating but real. Every time she was asked, she just kept saying that. She's 14. No, she wouldn't know what to do. Some adult women don't know what to do with pregnancies they aren't prepared for. Mercedes is a witness to teen pregnancy and what comes along with being a mother too soon and too young can bring. But, the always tender and caring Mercedes was there. Being as supportive as possible while not knowing what to do herself. This just goes to show how intense her yearning has been for being a mother and motherhood. Mercedes was their for her child through it all. Stayed with her at every step. Terricka will forever remember that on this life-changing day, it was her mom that was there. She'll always remember that.
They talked. About the realities. Talked about Mercedes' life as a teen mother although she wasn't allowed to be present, the struggles that came with it, her sacrifices, her mistakes, what she considered, how she's still trying and even failing but willing to learn, what she would've wanted, what she sees for Terricka's future if she gives herself that opportunity. Terricka now realizes how much Mercedes loves her. She sees it herself.
To be very honest, I sighed a sigh of relief whenever Terricka took the exit too — deciding for an abortion. She wasn't ready for motherhood. Mercedes was relieved too! That smile she had while she was leaning out the car window said it all.
It was adorable how much Mercedes lit up when Terricka called her "mama". Was the first time she ever said it to her.
Now they'll finally get a chance at their relationship and I'm happy. Custody can't be too far along if you ask me. After all these disappointments, Mercedes is for once getting to experience some happiness & joy!
lagniappe: it was great to see the Black physician there at the clinic. Black doctors matter; also the truth that was spoken from Mercedes of how dangerous childbirth for Black girls/women is given the systemic racism in healthcare; when Mercedes told Terricka she'd by right there with her in the opposite place of heaven was so touching.
⚙️
We've so much become our own oppressors that we work together with our oppressors and complain about oppression while seeking power to oppress others and in turn criticize as we oppress those we seek power from, saying others do it as we do it ourselves, only to do it to others. Generational patterns in which we are trapped.
Freedom and liberation are gimmicks so long as the pattern exists and the cycle regenerates. It is our doing, we are the agents of oppression. We serve the program by conditioning others to operate the same way, in this mold, of systematically targeting others to join and ostracizing those who don't, and pressuring others to conform.
Pressure is force and coercion, one of the subtler forms of violence, we attack and in turn breed our own fear. And where there is fear, there is no love, and where there is no love, there is no honesty, and in the absence of honesty, subjective truth which destroys honesty becomes more important than actual facts and in this, opinions are given priority, this ranking of chaos is disorder, the perpetuation of remaining as a machine of propagation, to spread the disease of being afraid and isolated, we self-impose it and then impose it on others, as misery enjoys company, it is our business to repress ourselves and use that fuel to drive us to suppress the rest and anyone else who does not limit themselves to the pattern.
Resentment, hostility, jealousy, envy, hatred, pettiness, it is the safeguard and engine by which we thrive in our own destruction and the means we use to destroy others, this conflict is internal and external, a unit of measure. The unit that joins us by this thread of entanglement is thought. What we think of ourselves and others is dichotomous and enmeshed with polarity, always splitting and separating, timid and boisterous, contradictory and confused, the chains of choice breed will and concentration, the tension builds and anxiety follows. In anxiety, we project a future, an escape from the present, the operating system running. We're running. Running away from our problems only creates more problems, multiplicity, fractaling. From the fractal, we move.
Branching out from the root, we gather, in the collective we secure our ambivalence*.
The psychological motion. A surface layer by the name of duality.
The petty mind is calcified and conditions itself to become more rigid, constantly building walls, the complexities narrowing its view of the world until it is centered on itself, through this method, the mechanical process of identification is deeply encoded as the structure that fills the calcium deposits, outlined in chalk, the idea of a self is from memory, repetition of experience, derived from knowledge(information and instruction), and in reference to time. A triangulating strangulation. The chokehold. Strengthened by resistance, pain, hurt, it will inflict harm by any means that is covert in reliance on reactions that will give biofeedback on that dependence for affirming its own self-created and superimposed notions, chemical reactions that sustain this calcifying process that it believes to be solid is merely an enclosure that, in expansion, becomes smaller. The speck is based on specs, externalities that are concentrated, a gravitational field condensed into an area, a pocket, the me(mental energy).
*In this, begins the network of distractions, diversions, etc, to keep the program running; status quo; statistics.
Uprooting weeds
I understand what people mean when they say that you understand your parents the older you get.
Last week, my mother told me I had the life she dreamed of when she was my age. Lot's of really good friends, good hair, slim, outgoing.
That stuck to me.
It made me realise why she always pushed me to make an effort socially. I used to be terrified of ordering at restaurants, but she would always pressure me and I hated it. She always forced me to talk to people or try new things.
And in the long run, it helped me feel more comfortable talking to others and creating bonds.
She moved around a lot as a child, switching schools often. She told me she was very withdrawn, which is hard for me to picture when I see her now with all of her connections with others. But I understand where I got it from.
My grandmother was white. She had no idea how to care for hair like my mother's or my aunt's, and was more focused on other responsibilities, so it was always cut very short. And when she got older, my mother straightened it and caused a lot of damage.
But as soon as my hair started thickening, she was ready to take care of it, for both me and my sibling, as well as herself, Facebook groups, different products for our different curl types, all of it. I learned to take pride in my hair because of her.
I have a lot of issues with my body, but not in the same way she did. Different generations, I get it. She would assume my issues to be a certain way if she knew, and she doesn't.
I understand my mother a lot more than I used to do. She's faced so many hardships, and she's deliberately gone out of her way to give me the childhood she didn't truly receive in so many ways. I'm grateful. I love her, all of my friends love her, she's amazing.
I don't know if she understands me the same way.
I guess this is all to say that I understand why people say 'you'll understand your parents when your older'.
But I think it helps for parents to realise that in the same way, you won't understand your children for a long time. You open up about your life, and they'll do the same in time. You might live in the same house, but doors still stays shut.
We all try, I suppose.
It might just go to show that you could be the best parent on the planet. But sometimes the issues of children are beyond their control. It starts younger than you think.
This wasn't intended to be a vent. Just thoughts on my mind.
even if I did nothing I'd still break generational curses