They ask me, How do you support the youth? Not with lectures dressed like love, not with control disguised as care, but with ears that don’t flinch when truth comes out messy. Because the bloom of misunderstanding doesn’t need competition, pain is not a scoreboard. Suffering doesn’t shrink just because someone else had it worse. So I don’t compare them. I hear them. These kids my children, their friends they don’t always run home to the ones who raised them, they run to the ones who feel them. And somehow… that became me. They sit in my space, half laughter, half wounds, speaking in a language that older generations sometimes dismiss, but I’ve learned to translate tone over words, silence over noise. I give them what I didn’t always receive, safe conversation, room to question, freedom to feel without being fixed too fast. I tell them: You’re allowed to become. I pour into their ideas like seeds already chosen by purpose, watering dreams that adults sometimes call unrealistic, because who decided survival was more important than imagination? I celebrate them loudly their weird, their wild, their becoming, and I remind them joy is not something you earn, it’s something you allow. And in the middle of giving: I realized something… I am not just support. I am not just refuge. I am evidence that love can be soft and strong at the same time. So yes— today, I celebrate how awesome I am. Not out of ego, but because I chose to be what I needed when no one was listening. And now they are heard. they are held. they are rising. And I’m right here, not above them with them.

I have always been, Unseen unless needed.... Especially as a teen and young person... In my mind, parents really desire to have children...that are perfect... The context...humans have had the desire to make their progeny better... Never really think about the pressure asserted mentally... The hormones, prefrontal cortex not fully developed, while searching for individuality... Sometimes, this comes with resentment... Because, fear is as powerful as peer pressure... Mentally fighting within, what if I, your child, can't live up to your standards??? Will you still love me??? Or is your love conditional, a transaction... Based on how I perform??? Feeling like a trained seal more than child development. Misunderstood, unseen, now acting out...why? In this world of constant competition...needing to hear...I am proud of you.. I am on your side...love you.. The real expectations, become better today, than yesterday.. Grow, flourish, own your mistakes and be accountable.. Remember, young ones...parents are flawed humans.... We pour into our children, hoping to ease the struggles... We see your greatness from birth...wishing to uplift all of you.. Yet, the best of us know... Mistakes, are unfortunately the best instructors Experience, my Mummy said, is a hard task master... Life brings challenges, misunderstandings.... Which is why we have to have uncomfortable conversations.. Some tears and elevated voices will happen... Doesn't mean, parents don't love their children... Please understand, we are not only managing the kids... We are attending to careers, businesses, spouses and life... Sometimes we are just overwhelmed... A confession, lots of Parents, don't feel equipped or adequate to rear kids... Please forgive us!!! Lyrically yours, MydNite Renaissance ❤️‍🩹

Resounding Hope is the manifestation of words spoken.. These thoughts and mental letters, creating etymology are prayers... Both unconscious and conscious laying on our hearts.. The alleviation and elevation of stress off the soul. Under the weight of crushing despair... A call out to my GOD!!! It's the only thing...I know to trust.... In these moments, where there seems... We have nothing or no one to save us... This Hope is constitutional.. Helped me survive Breast and Uterine Cancer...no chemo or radiation.. Beat the odds with Sarcoidosis... When the Pulmonary Doctors and Surgeons said...in surprise... You're walking, should be on oxygen... Looking at the lung charts...said... I should be dead...those words flew out her mouth... My constitutional optimism made me smile... Knowing GOD said, yes to my... Resounding Hope... Lyrically yours, MydNite Renaissance ❤️‍🩹

I got expensive visions with a dollar-store reality. Champagne thoughts, trapped in a tap-water life, counting coins like they secrets. I’m trying not to tell out loud. Rent due, dreams due too. Funny how both knock at the same damn time. I done stretched meals, like miracles, made noodles feel like fine dining just to keep my pride from starving. See, they don’t talk about this part, where ambition don’t match income, where your mind lives in penthouses, but your body still fighting to keep the lights on. I’ve worn confidence like designer knowing damn well it was stitched together from struggle and second chances. Premium dreams yeah, I got plenty of those. Dreams that don’t fit inside my bank account, dreams that wake me up before my alarm clock. just to remind me I’m not where I’m supposed to be yet. But I’m working, even when it doesn’t look like it. Surviving, is a full-time job nobody claps for. Balancing bills, dodging doubt, negotiating with my own mind not to give up on me. Some nights I go to sleep hungry not just for food, but for a life that don’t feel like a constant almost. Still I get up. Still I believe in something bigger than my current situation. Because regular budgets don’t cancel premium dreams— they just make you fight harder to afford them. And I swear… one day, this struggle gonna look back at me like it can’t recognize who I became.

I find it challenging to write about myself.. Really don't think folks are interested...in how I lived... A precocious kid, that grew up in Mississippi... Picking watermelon and playing in the blazing heat.. Tall for my age...got to drive the truck at eleven years old.. My Daddy's baby...said, I was going places... If any of you remember the Beverly Hillbillies... Daddy called my Ellie Mae..., Because I was always beating up my Brothers... Caught me having lifted my older brother over my head... Shook his head and through his hands up... Didn't know Kenny had picked me up first...this was a reaction... Yet, encounters with boys and men would be a constant... What comes to mind is a dude in College that started harassing me.. Calling out my sexuality on campus...being a personal terror... He would say unwelcome comments like... Dyke and Bulldagger...You got big hands... That's why you're getting all the pussy... Everytime I saw him...he had some negative comments... So much so...some of my other male friends wanted to kick his azz... This fool harassed me for two whole semesters... I told them to stand down... I would get my chance to handle him... Really, couldn't afford to endanger my or their scholarships... My chance came very unexpectedly... In the dorm lounge, waiting my turn to play billiards... I feel my feet leave the ground... This silly fucker had picked me up... I knew it was Ted...immediately... 'Ted put me down right now..". He placed me down and attempted to run... Just was not fast enough for my long arms... I grabbed him by the belt... Swooped him up between his legs... Catching a handful of testicles... Lifting him over my head, in a fit of rage... He yelled at the top of his lungs..... Let go of my nutssss.... In distressed agony, as I squeezed... Looking to throw him off the third story balcony... This move arrested, when the RA screamed...I came back...to my righteous mind... Put him down on the pool table... Looked Ted in the eyes...