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{Hot Mess Millionaire} Kobe Bryant–A Father’s Love

Me and God are about to have words…

Kobe is gone. An icon who loved his daughter. He was an imperfect man who repped a good father. He was willing to be responsible. He was father–a model who showed us how to stay the course until it turned. There are a lot of things I could say, but I’m in my feelings right now—especially about how he loved and empowered his daughter. I never had a father. So, the way he loved Gigi, is how I imagined it would have been like to have a father who loved me enough to stay the course, even after he was untrue. He didn’t use his failings as a reason to bailout. He dealt with the impact on those he loved and restored trust. I wonder if my father knew how much of a missing he has been in my life, would he have been willing to look his failings in the eye and grown instead of retreat? 

Please view this 20 minute video to honor and bear witness to an icon. A husband. A father. A Black Man who didn’t leave. Who understood his presence was enough for his baby girls…

https://www.facebook.com/DrVenusOpalReese/videos/780500512455075/

I can feel the sadness like a wave about to dash me into the rocks of loss. Crushing me. Drowning me in a missing that stands in for my daddy. I wonder will this missing, this absence that is so LOUD in my heart space, will it ever be filled?

I don’t know.

I don’t know God…

I. Don’t. Know.

#whydoiwanttocryrightnow

I love you,

Dr. Venus

Dear Black Woman Entrepreneur, I owe you an apology…

The past almost two years and a half knocked me to my knees.

I ended my 10 years of marriage.

I had to have an emergency hysterectomy.

My funnel broke, which essentially tanked my business.

I paid a marketer over $26k in cash and equipment—he refused to return.

My best friend went to jail.

AND—this hurt the most—I realized I wanted to have a baby and because of all the violence that had been acted out on my body, I didn’t try. 

The loss of having life grow inside of me due to the need to have the hysterectomy, sent me into an emotional tailspin where I hated my life.

So, I torched it. 

I threw out the baby and the bathwater.

Now at the beginning of a new era, I realize that in my haste to distance myself from my former life, I distance myself from you. It wasn’t intentional. It wasn’t malicious. I just didn’t want that life anymore so I left it. I took my eyes off of you sis. 

For this, I apologize.

At my Raw Truth premiere weekend, when I took my final bow and looked out at the audience, I saw something that filled my heart with hope, with love: the majority of people in the audience (including the Men who love us!) giving me a standing ovation were Black Women Entrepreneurs. Yes, the audience was diverse with men and other races. But the overwhelming majority of people supporting, cheering, and celebrating me braving my past as I bared my soul to the world, were Black Woman. And what’s more: they flew in! New York, Chicago, Atlanta, Virginia, BALTIMORE, Oakland, etc.

Their collective presence screamed to my soul: your truth is valid Dr. Venus Opal Reese. We see you. We hear you. We love you. And we got you. No matter what.

So, I thank you for praying for me, and for holding space for me for two years. 

I thank you for your loyalty through all of the hurt and heartache that has refined me.

I thank you for letting me evolve and not penalizing me for exploring and expanding.

But this is what I realized as I shared my soul on stage: it’s time to come home. 

It’s time to get back to business with the community who made me and saved me each time I would fall: Black Women Entrepreneurs. I don’t know what this homecoming is going to look like but I do know this: I choose you. 

I thank you.

I love you.

Dr. Venus

Ps: I will be starting a podcast soon, Hot Mess Millionaire™ (#dopeasf) In the meantime, be sure to join me at 5pmPST on Monday’s Facebook Live. 

PPs: And if you haven’t subscribed to my Truth Tribe and claimed your free gift, go here to do so: www.venusopal.com/gift

Out with the old and in with the new!!!

 
The new year brings new beginnings. New hope. A new shot at life.

As we step into 2020, I’m focusing on our men.

This may feel like a bit of a surprise, but this is about claiming and healing the lineage that was passed down to me. We’re talking generational shit here. 
This is about our bloodline.

My father was a street man and I am a street girl.

Let me be clear when I say “street” – I don’t mean like “hip-hop music” street, I mean sleeping on hot air grates with newspaper over my body, picking food out of the trashcan street. Eating only the “good” parts without cockroaches or maggots… that’s the kind of street I am talking about.

And my father, he was not a nice person, he was a street man, he was a gangster, a hustler, a pimp, he was all of that.

He was an imperfect person—really imperfect—like so many of our men are. 
But he loved me. 
He wanted me. 
He keeps me alive. 
That’s got to count for something. 
As I have been adapting the Raw Truth book into the play, I have been being with how we turn men into the enemy and use children punishment for failing. My birth mother, Momma, was so hurt and angry because he didn’t come see her in jail (long story, it’s in the play) she MOVED from NYC to Baltimore to make sure he NEVER saw the child he stopped her from aborting.

We villainize our men… but THEY were hurt TOO.

I know some brothers, amazing men, who have been molested by women and never told their stories because getting pussy is considered an accomplishment not a violation when you are underage.

Slavery, Apartheid, Trail of Tears, Hiroshima—any historical cultural trauma—the men have been raped, whipped and murdered too.

But we don’t count their lashes. 
We don’t even acknowledge their wounds—unless they lash out at us. #realtalkhere

I don’t know my daddy.
Maybe that’s real for you too.

Or maybe you do know him but were hurt by something he did or didn’t do. Just because a father is in the home doesn’t mean he is emotionally available. 
My point is this: your relationship with men and money (we will talk about that at the Wealth Workshop on tour) is directly linked to your relationship with your father.

Died. Alive. Dead beat or awesome.

Like it or not, YOU are your father’s daughter. #keepbreathing

I believe our fundamental relationships with our fathers and mothers shape all of our relationships. Either we react to our parents or we emulate them. We try so hard NOT to be them, we come them. Or we marry them. #justthem

It’s either empowering or disempowering.

And even if you think you didn’t have a relationship with your father or mother I promise, there is generational pain in that hole, sis, in that absence.

Check out the live. Here are some points I explored that may feed you:

1. EVERY WOMAN has a relationship to men rooted in her relationship with her father, good, bad, or ugly.

2. I learned early on you have to give to get. A girl child is not always protected. And I don’t know if my father had been around if things would have been different, but what I know is this …

A father(who takes on the role as an identity) gives for free. A father’s social contract, their job, is to be accountable for those they call their own.

I have spent over 30 years tending to my mother’s pain, generational and cultural pain. In 2020 I am taking on honoring my father’s protection by standing for my life.

I am choosing to heal so deeply I can hold BOTH of their wounds and love them like God loves me.

By so doing, I set myself free to fulfill my destiny. 

I am my father’s daughter.

I am imperfect AND I have a destiny to fulfill. As do YOU. 

Dig into the real deal here — > (jump to approx. 15:13 in the video and watch until 35:00 – watch the whole thing, but these time stamps will help you get to the “meat” if you’re pressed for time)

I love you,

Dr. VenusOpal 

P.S. Truth Tellers, 2020 is YOUR year, it’s our year.

There’s more to come on this topic so stay close.

If you resonated with this take two actions, right now…

1. Reply to this email with what struck you and what you want more of.

2. Join me LIVE. The Raw Truth Book+ Tour kicks off in 16 days.

The details are HERE.

The Raw & Real Series: In With The New

Out with the old and in with the new!!! 
The new year brings new beginnings. New hope. A new shot at life.

As we step into 2020, I’m focusing on our men.

This may feel like a bit of a surprise, but this is about claiming and healing the lineage that was passed down to me. We’re talking generational shit here. 
This is about our bloodline.

My father was a street man and I am a street girl.

Let me be clear when I say “street” – I don’t mean like “hip-hop music” street, I mean sleeping on hot air grates with newspaper over my body, picking food out of the trashcan street. Eating only the “good” parts without cockroaches or maggots… that’s the kind of street I am talking about.

And my father, he was not a nice person, he was a street man, he was a gangster, a hustler, a pimp, he was all of that.

He was an imperfect person—really imperfect—like so many of our men are. 
But he loved me. 
He wanted me. 
He keep me alive. 
That’s got to count for something. 

As I have been adapting the Raw Truth book into the play, I have been being with how we turn men into the enemy and use children punishment for failing. My birth mother, Momma, was so hurt and angry because he didn’t come see her in jail (long story, it’s in the play) she MOVED from NYC to Baltimore to make sure he NEVER saw the child he stopped her from aborting.

We villainize our men… but THEY were hurt TOO.

I know some brothers, amazing men, who have been molested by women and never told their stories because getting pussy is considered an accomplishment not a violation when you are underage.

Slavery, Apartheid, Trail of Tears, Hiroshima—any historical cultural trauma—the men have been raped, whipped and murdered too.

But we don’t count their lashes. 
We don’t even acknowledge their wounds—unless they lash out at us. #realtalkhere

I don’t know my daddy.
Maybe that’s real for you too.

Or maybe you do know him but were hurt by something he did or didn’t do. Just because a father is in the home doesn’t mean he is emotionally available. 

My point is this: your relationship with men and money (we will talk about that at the Wealth Workshop on tour) is directly linked to your relationship with your father.

Died. Alive. Dead beat or awesome.

Like it or not, YOU are your father’s daughter. #keepbreathing

I believe our fundamental relationships with our fathers and mothers shape all of our relationships. Either we react to our parents or we emulate them. We try so hard NOT to be them, we come them. Or we marry them. #justthem

It’s either empowering or disempowering.

And even if you think you didn’t have a relationship with your father or mother I promise, there is generational pain in that hole, sis, in that absence.

Check out the live. Here are some points I explored that may feed you:

1. EVERY WOMAN has a relationship to men rooted in her relationship with her father, good, bad, or ugly.

2. I learned early on you have to give to get. A girl child is not always protected. And I don’t know if my father had been around if things would have been different, but what I know is this …

A father(who takes on the role as an identity) gives for free. A father’s social contract, their job, is to be accountable for those they call their own.

I have spent over 30 years tending to my mother’s pain, generational and cultural pain. In 2020 I am taking on honoring my father’s protection by standing for my life.

I am choosing to heal so deeply I can hold BOTH of their wounds and love them like God loves me.

By so doing, I set myself free to fulfill my destiny. 

I am my father’s daughter.

I am imperfect AND I have a destiny to fulfill. As do YOU. 

Dig into the real deal here — > (jump to approx. 15:13 in the video and watch until 35:00 – watch the whole thing, but these time stamps will help you get to the “meat” if you’re pressed for time)

I love you,

Dr. VenusOpal 

P.S. Truth Tellers, 2020 is YOUR year, it’s our year.

There’s more to come on this topic so stay close.

If you resonated with this take two actions, right now…

1. Reply to this email with what struck you and what you want more of.

2. Join me LIVE. The Raw Truth Book+ Tour kicks off in 16 days.

The details are HERE.

Nanna Update & .99c for 2nd Book (Limited Time Offer)

  
As you may or may not know, my mom, Nanna (my high school teacher who saved my life when I was living on the streets) was in the hospital for the past two weeks.

SHE’S OUT OF THE HOSPITAL AND HOME!!!

Thank you from the bottom of my heart for your prayers.
Whew! Now I can think straight!
It was touch and go for a minute but I talked with her today and she sounds GREAT! 

On another note, this past weekend I did a workshop on my solo performance based on my new book, the Raw Truth: A Pimp Daughter’s Dairy.

What made it special is workshopping for 4 hours with four new friends in San Diego. It was a blast! The feedback was INCREDIBLE  and I know it’s going to be a better performance because of it.

A person and a dog posing for the camera

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Speaking of feedback, I was wondering if I could ask a favor…

My 2nd book, The Raw Truth: A Pimp Daughter’s Diary, was just published. I’ve reduced the price to .99c for a limited time because I’m trying to get as many reviews as possible so that we can inspire the biggest tribe of truth tellers ever. 

The book will only be at this reduced price for the next two weeks, so if you want to help throttle this message forward, please  download it before then.
Here’s  the link: https://www.amazon.com/Raw-Truth-Pimp-Daughters-Diary-ebook/dp/B0826C38HP/ref=tmm_kin_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=1576530457&sr=8-1

Thanks so much!

Dr. Venus

P.S. By the way, you don’t really need to read the entire book to offer a great review.  If you find a chapter or two that really interest you then read those and offer comments in your review about those chapters.  Of course, I’d love for you to read it all but this may provide a simpler way to offer a review quicker. Here’s the link again https://www.amazon.com/Raw-Truth-Pimp-Daughters-Diary-ebook/dp/B0826C38HP/ref=tmm_kin_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=1576530457&sr=8-1 and THANKS so much!

PUBLIC POST on Social Media or Mass Email to list

Quick question for you…

You may or may not already know but I have recently published my, 2nd book, The Raw Truth: A Pimp Daughter’s Dairy. I have reduced the price to 99c for a limited time because I am trying to get as many reviews as possible. 

It would mean a lot to me if you could take a moment to download my book and leave a review.  My book will only be at this reduced price for the next two weeks, so if you could download it before then, that would be great.

Here is the link: https://www.amazon.com/Raw-Truth-Pimp-Daughters-Diary-ebook/dp/B0826C38HP/ref=tmm_kin_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=1576530457&sr=8-1

Thanks so much!

The Call

Some people have kids.
I have a Calling.

My life is not my own.

I have come to accept the singularity of my very existence.

My walk is lonely.

I don’t begrudge it.

I have learned to sit with and be with the ache in my body:
In my heart…
In my stomach…
Between my thighs…

My Lord, please, be with me.

I am surrendering to the totality of the Call.

You are my love, my life.

You, Lord, have my undivided attention.
No distractions. No competition.
Just you.

My life is set up to do Your Will.

I am no saint.

There is more sin in me than salvation.

But that doesn’t mean I can’t love you with everything that I am.

People never tell you this: but there is a cost to the Calling.

The cost is total: live a life that is reactionary or commit completely to the Call.

One is not better than the other.

I often think of Anne Frank.
Victor Frankel.
Gandhi.

I think of Malcolm, King, Ali.

I think of Oprah, Jobs, Tesla.

I think of Jesus, Mohamad, Buddha.

I wonder… did they know?
Did they feel the cost of the Call?
If they had known the cost,
would they have stilled answered?

I don’t know.

I do know this…

“When destiny and victory finally collide, there’s no sound more sweeter than when God says it’s time.” Kirk Franklin

It has taken my entire life to get to this season where I can answer the Call.

I sit alone with God. Well not quite alone. Happy is nearby curled up into a little ball of love that I can touch with my fingertips…

But I sit with God.
I write. More often than not, just listen.

I listen for the whispers.
The nudges.
The hunches to know what next right step to take.

I continually let go of my timeline and surrender to divine time.
I do ALL the actions I am guided to do. I talk with my therapist and my Circle of Trust to stay clear and focused.

I see my doctors and I exercise.

I am an excellent steward over my resources and I tithe.

I have assembled an extraordinary team that empowers my leadership and has grace with my humanity.

My stamina is growing.

I focus on the positive and tell the truth when I feel negative.

I have become comfortable with sleeping alone.

I sit with myself.
I sit with God.

And I let go of my timelines and the picture inside my head about how things should or will look.

I don’t know how the future will look.
I don’t know if all I have given my life to will turn out.
I don’t know if all of my marketing efforts will fall flat or soar.

I. Don’t. Know.

What I do know is this: I will do my absolute best and give my Calling, my dream, my destiny the very best shot at winning I am capable of in this lifetime.

I do not feel afraid. Life has burned all the fear out of me.

I feel alive.

Like I am standing on the precipice of something so beyond my imaginings, I can’t even get excited about it. But I know it’s happening.

It will not be perfect.
I can’t even promise it will be polished or pretty.
I don’t know if people will come or if they will shun.

I may fail dismally.

But what if…

… What if I stepped off the cliff of my Calling and tumbled through space and time landing in the hearts of shattered souls that feel like pillows soaked with tears.

… What if my people, the ones for whom I am an answered prayer, what if they caught me?

… And what if the Calling wasn’t my calling but the thunderous brazen clanging of cymbals calling souls home themselves; home to their truth?

… What if the singularity of my very existence is actually what makes me universal?

… And what if God stripped me of every distraction–from my womb to my marriage to the death of Defy Impossible, Inc.–to turn me into a sufficient condition to manifest SOMETHING my mind can’t even see from where I am right now, that will transform the world?

Yes, the Calling, costs.

I don’t begrudge it.

I embrace it.
I give thanks for it.

I don’t know if it will be big or small.
I don’t know if anyone but me and God will know my work is done.
But that’s ok now.

I have been to the mountain top.
And I have been to the depths of hell on earth.
I know how cruel people can be.
And I also know how kind.

But no matter the reception, I answer the Call Lord.

With my life, I answer the Call.

vor