Archives for September 2019

Feeling Better.

I cleaned my closet. I’m taking one moment at a time. Being open to God’s will for my life. Making room for prosperity in the form of experiencing being taken care of holistically: financially, mentally, spiritually, emotionally and sexually.

My new business buddy, Kisma Donna Orbovich, asked me what I wanted last week and shared my desire to experience love in the form of tangible care.

Since then I’ve been being with this truth: in my ENTIRE life, I have always provided. Even in Momma’s house. I would work—underage—scrubbing floors and selling shoes at Kenny Shoe Store in Mondomin Mall in Baltimore. I give my checks to Monma. With my very first check, I bought my oldest sis Nichole (RIP) riding boots.

I have always provided. Not as an obligation but as a deep honor to take care of those I love and consider my own.

I didn’t realize it until speaking with Kimsa about prosperity, that I have a practice of buying love.

I wrote and did three Facebook Lives about this after I posted my well-being update. I did my first live about the sadness of this realization on Wed. On Thursday the manifestation happened. Saturday, God kicked the manifesting doors OFF THE HINGES!

Here are the videos:

Declaring my desire:

REALITY WRECKING experience that manifested:

Oh My GWRD Manifesting Breakthrough! This one is SOOOOOO B-more. Pure street. #girdyourloins:

I am being with that I really CAN have the desires of my heart—without putting out, giving head, or paying for it in any way shape, or form. As a girl from the streets, this is nothing short of a manifested miracle. A new reality is arising… and I am taking it on.

I love you,

Dr. Venus

I’ve Been Bleeding.

(Well-Being Update) I’ve been spotting. I went to a new GYN doctor in San Diego and she was great. She said she needed more data to say why I’m bleeding. She thinks it’s I’m still healing. She said not to worry.

I’m not worried just disappointed.

We ordered all of my records from my bio-identical hormone doctor and my emergency hysterectomy doctor. I have a follow-up in two weeks.

I washed clothes this morning. Paid bills. Worked out. Drank water. Wrote. Can’t really talk to people right now. I can feel the tears behind my eyes and don’t have the wherewithal to explain myself.

When the doctors told me it would take one to two years to heal, I didn’t believe them.

I do now.

We are getting me a new therapist next week.

Happy is my joy.

He wakes me up by licking my elbow so I can take my pills and get out of bed. 
It’s hard to remember things. 

I walk five miles a day, being with myself. God. 

I sit in silence a lot.

Everything takes longer right now than it used to.

I’ve become more comfortable with Happy wearing his “Service Animal” paraphilia. He looks cute in red and yellow. 😊

I’m sad again.

Nothing bad. 
No request.

Just a bone deep sense of loss that leaves me feeling hollow inside.

I know God is good and got me—so please… don’t…

Stress hurts my body. My bones literally ache. People don’t get that. They relate like I’m well based on the 30-45 minutes they see me doing a live stream.

I’m best in the mornings. Answering email can take hours. Regular stress hurts. Sometimes I feel like a tank of gas. I run out by 4pm. If I’m stressed I’m in bed by 8pm.

EVERYTHING takes energy. Even thinking. Talking. Breathing.

Everything but writing.

There’s nothing to do but take my time and continue to heal.

So many people who I thought were for me but were not… only for themselves…

I wonder what it would feel like to be loved by people big enough to house all of me. Big rooms, each one the size of a cathedral, majestic, bejeweled and rare.

Each cathedral would house a different piece of me: the streets; Stanford; violence; vulnerability; rich; poor; kink; Christian; audacious; alone; unattached; intense; loyal; leaver; genius; legally handicap; charismatic; ugly; self-love; self-hate; believer; blasphemer.

And each room would weep. 

Cray for me tears that will not fall from my face.

The cathedral tears would turn into precious stones, priceless. Treasures hard won.

Yeah… I like m weeping cathedrals… 😊


The silence feels like warm silk.

I have no words that I can say.

So, I write.

And that is enough.

For now… it’s more than enough.

I surrender the night.

I’m going to hug my puppy now. 

To remember that I am loved and I’m not alone in this world.

All is well.

We’ll try again tomorrow…

Thanks for witnessing.

I love you


#hysterectomy #sad #truthteller #tellingthetruth