REBLOG PLEASE. Help find this missing child
REBLOG PLEASE. Help find this missing child
With all that’s going on in the world right now, especially with the bombings in Boston, it’s easy to get wrapped up in the sadness and to convince yourself that the world is nothing but hate. But that’s wrong. In times of trouble humanity proves itself to be more caring and loving than anything. We pick each other up when we fall and hold out a helping hand where we can. People are good. Sometimes we just need a reminder.
It was once only a mere idea to create a design to represent both the brand CLASH (Could Love Actually Save Humanity) and the movement/blog She Dream Warrior with intent to create a line to help spread the message. It is nothing less than a tremendous blessing to announce the success of the first shirt released from the 4-shirt series of Clash x SDW “What’s Your Story?” It all started with ONE story, faith and a purpose to make a difference. Through this peice of success She Dream Warrior has seen an abundance of growth. We plan to collaborate with CLASH in the future to keep the message of the power of using your voice to make a difference exapnding all around the world.
-She Dream Warrior, KW
#TELLYOURSTORY #WHATSYOURSTORY #SDW #MAKEITAMAZING
This story was submitted by Maurice. These are the exact words of the author.
My mother’s death dropped a gift in my hands that has blessed and cursed me at the same time. I remember her open casket being 2 feet in front of me. She was beautiful when she rested. I could sense an eternal peace. Nothing was going to bother her. My mother struggled a lot when she was alive. 5 kids, single parent home, Miami, yeahhhhh, life wasn’t peaches and cream. I remember her fighting her boyfriend and he beat her like a man. I was only 8 years old. Sometimes I wish I was older so I could have kicked his ass. Mom was strong though. She was a fighter and I don’t know, she always took him back. Never made sensed to me. When they pulled her casket in front of me and my brothers, my 10 year old heart broke in pieces. One tear rolled down my face and I’m sure more was coming but my older brother punched me in the chest. He said no crying. In 3.5 seconds, I was giving a gift. The ability to harness extreme pain and have a facial expression of complete calm. I carried it with me my whole life. I never spoke on painful situations. I always dealt with it in my own way. Alone, in privacy, and within. Over the years, it became a true art. No matter what was going on around me, I always exemplified peace. I hate drama and negativity. I never understood how to express it in a positive manner so I rather avoid it completely. This affected my friendships, relationships, and interaction with people in general. Everyone says I’m so nice, and really I am. But my soul cries out for arms to hold me. Someone to be peaceful with me. A true lover, friend, and human being. I don’t want to be alone. I just want to be happy. My gift curses me because I expect perfection. I try to change people for the better. But now I understand only one man can do that. God. It is only my job to support His love and do work to ensure his goodness. I hate judging people. I only want to love. My gift true purpose was to know that everything will always be okay. Never be torn by pain or live in the past. Carry your head like Kings and Queens. Be great. Be humble. Love others and most of all, Love God. As I continue each day, I open myself up more. I understand that nothing is perfect. But that don’t mean that I can’t love it anyway. God is good. Only through Him is true peace and harmony. No need to bottle it all in when we have a Father willing to carry it for us. Be blessed. Thanks Kayla.
This story was submitted anonymously. These are the exact words of the author.
The Letter, Unsent.
I wrote him a letter that I didn’t intend to send. A letter I was d**n near ashamed to write. Hell, the letter is probably more so for me than anything. It included things about me that I tried to hide from the world and most of all from him. I am strong, I can’t have people looking at me like a weak girl, a hopeless romantic, a brilliantly stupid, imperfectly wonderful, heartbroken and confused girl. I couldn’t have people realize that I AM HUMAN. But……. I am. We all are. So here goes nothing …
I’ve always wondered why people would say “You should find A Man, who Loves You More Than You Love Him”. It seemed quite silly to me, why would I ever want that? If I found a Man like that, wouldn’t that mean I would have to Love him Less? The shit is just confusing. Anyway, I first heard that small piece of advice when I was 14, “You should find A Man, who Loves You More Than You Love Him”, now at 21, I think I understand why. When a woman loves a man she gives her entire heart or at least what is left of it. She loves him unconditionally and selflessly. She wants to protect him as if he were her brother, make him proud as if he were her father. She wants to confide in him as if he were her sister or learn from him as if he were her mother. That’s how I loved you. You knocked down the bricks that structured the wall I had assembled to hide me from myself. You showed me the true me. You reminded me of my imperfections and me both Love and Hate you for that reason. You humbled me; I am not perfect, and you showed me that my imperfections meant I was Human. You taught me to be strong in my decisions; you taught me to communicate my feelings (even though you rarely truly communicate yours) you made me Human again.
You adored me, and I could tell. We came to college together and experienced some of the toughest times of our lives, but I had you and you had me. We had each other. We were unstoppable, we got rewarded together, we got in trouble together, we acted silly together, and we studied together. We would get into play fights that lead to sincere intimacy and also some heated arguments that lead to sincere tears. We grew up together, from young teens to young adults; we grew up together.
So here I am, silent; typing my feelings in this dark room with tears hitting my keyboard. I’m exhausted. I can’t fight by myself and I won’t. Sometimes, I ask myself have you learned anything from me. Have I taught you anything? How much do you love me? Would you Love me Forever? The day I left the country, and we cried for 20 minutes before my departure, what were you really thinking? Was that our last kiss, ever? I’ll never really know, will I? Tell me, Why do you think a woman should find A Man, who Loves her More Than she Loves Him? Is it because a woman will ALWAYS love a man ten times more than he could ever love her? So, that the only way to even up the love scale is to have him Love her more? I don’t know, I told you it’s confusing. What’s not confusing though, is the fact that I Love You. Not that superficial kind of love but the kind of love that is so scary you get chill bumps when thinking about the depth of your love. The kind of love you try to run from but it always catches you. The kind of love that you try to hide from but it always finds you. The kind of love that can make you question your entire existence or purpose?
I love you more than anyone could ever love someone. I believe in you and your dreams. I pray for you more than I pray for myself. If I had a time machine I would go back and fix what went wrong, actually I wouldn’t even know where to go back. So I guess what I am really trying to say in this letter, that I probably won’t even give to you is, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t be the imperfectly perfect girl you wanted me to be. I’m sorry you don’t have the balls to fight yourself for me. I’m sorry we weren’t what we were all cracked up to be. I’m sorry you are scared of getting hurt, again. I’m sorry for not having the guts to even give you this letter, I’m sorry for hoping you would find this somewhere and magically realize that It’s about you and we could re-enact a scene from Love and Basketball or The Notebook and we would start over and be happily ever after, I’m sorry for believing in True Love and Stupid S**t like that and mostly I’m sorry that our love story ended so soon … or … did it? … D**n, I’m sorry for asking that.
“Love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.” -Khalil Gibran
This story was submitted to She Dream Warrior anonymously. The names in this story have been changed to protect the privacy of the individuals included. These are the exact words of the author.
“The Blacker the Berry”
1993 was the year I was born and 2000 was the year I wished I wasn’t. Growing up on the Westside of Atlanta the majority of my life was fun sometimes, but not the easiest thing in the world. My mother, a beautiful brown skin woman raised three of my brothers and I. It was the year 2000 at an elementary school in Atlanta, Georgia that I began to realize that I was different. I was in second grade and my best friend was a girl named Eliza. Eliza was a typical “it girl” of today’s society. She had fair skin and long curly hair. All the boys loved to flirt with her and the teachers loved her. Me, on the other hand, was darker than paper sack brown with thick, kinky hair.
The boys didn’t flirt with me as much and I was just another student to my teachers. One day I went home to my mother and asked, “why do people treat Eliza better than me because she has lighter skin?” My mother looked at me as if she knew this day was coming and said to me, “honey, you are beautiful in the skin you’re in. Nothing is wrong with being brown. You are beautiful.” I believed her, but then again I felt like she was just saying that because she was my mother and that’s what she was supposed to do. I hated being brown. I even thought about taking bleach baths so I could get lighter.
In my mind, I was a disgrace. I was ugly and would be prettier and more accepted if I were lighter. I didn’t want to live, but my smile hid all of my pain. Years later, in high school, my complex still existed. Eliza and I were still friends, but distant because I felt like she thought she was better than I was. She didn’t understand my feelings and I felt like she never would because she was light skinned. My circle of friends consisted of three other brown beauties, and now that I think about it, we all hung together because we were all uncomfortable in our own skin. Many nights we would have conversations on the phone about people of lighter skin and laugh, but deep inside we were all crying. We had all been called “darkies,” been rejected by boys that only liked light skin women, and had been denied opportunities because of our skin color.
Being uncomfortable in my skin wasn’t made easier by society either. Music videos were full of light skin beauties, music lyrics were always about women of lighter skin complexion, and even magazine ads were full of fair skinned women. I mean, maybe it was just me, but all I ever saw was light skinned women, or maybe it was just all I focused on. It wasn’t until senior year that I met Kourtney Lavigne, a light skinned cheerleader that everyone at school loved. In a way, she was a lot like Eliza. We became really close and the day she came over my house is one I would never forget. She and I were in the bathroom mirror and she said to me, “ wow, you have some really beautiful skin.
Look at mine; I’m so light you see all my pimples. I love your brown skin. Can we trade?” At this point, I was astounded by her words. A light skinned girl wanted to trade my skin for hers?? Since when? Her words were so sincere that they changed my whole outlook of myself. She had no idea that I had a deep complex that was controlling and ruining my life. From then on, I completely changed my ways. I no longer hung with my circle of “light skin haters.” They thought I was a trader, but I had really just grown up and become content with how God made me. I was just as beautiful or even more beautiful than people of lighter skin. Kourtney has no idea how she changed my life, but hopefully she’ll read this and find out. To every brown girl out there with a complex know that you are truly beautiful. Your black is beautiful. Thank you for letting me share my story Kayla, I am even more free now.
Go NOWWWWW !
This story was submitted to the blog by Mercedes Estrada. These are the exact words of the author.
I’m just a girl in this crazy world trying to chase after my dreams and this is my story….
Fashion in my opinion is the art of expressing yourself through clothing. Creating a style that fits only you. It’s ok to follow the new trends in today’s society, but at the same time, be YOU with it. My love for fashion from what I can remember started around 11 years old and it has been blossoming ever since.
My dreams are to become one of the biggest fashion wardrobe stylist in the entertainment business, to owning my own businesses world wide, inspire as many people as I can, and give back to the world as much as I can. My main goal is to be successful in the fashion industry and whatever I do so that I can share my blessings with the less unfortunate and the people who have been there since day one and who have helped me along the way. What’s the point of having all the success and wealth if you don’t share or bless others with it?
To get myself started on building my empire for the future, I currently attend Georgia Southern University majoring in Fashion Merchandising and Apparel Design. I have also started a Fashion and Inspiration blog intitled “Your Look Inside” on wordpress.com. It is meant to give my viewers a look inside what inspires me spiritually and fashionably. I provide pictures of my outfits and the places I purchase my pieces of clothing from along with daily scriptures and quotes for inspiration. I’m the type that shops anywhere and everywhere and also on a budget. So that being said, my blog is meant to show my viewers that you can look fly for less. You don’t need all the fancy, expensive clothes to look good or be in style, create YOUR own and on YOUR own budget.
I am also trying to start up a business of organizing and making over people’s closets and also helping them create new outfits from pieces they already own. I’m a person who is very big on cleanliness and organization, especially when it comes to my closet along with being able to make every piece of clothing in my closet work without always having to go out and get something new.
So, I figured why not take what I enjoy doing and what I’m good at and put it to use by helping others. I understand that most people don’t have the time nor the patience to organize their closets. I also understand how it feels to look in your closet full of clothes and get so overwhelmed and feel like you have absolutely nothing to wear. So, this is exactly where I come in. All people have to do is email me to set up their appointment and I will be right over giving you and your closet a complete makeover (for a small price of course).
These are just a couple of the things I am doing now to build my empire for the future. I want so much more and I know that with The Lord on my side, NOTHING is impossible for me. And although I’m out here chasing my dreams, trying to build up my empire, im also here to help others build theirs. As young people we should help build each other up instead of breaking each other down. Lets all help each other change the future. Lets give our children a better world to live in. If you have a clothing line and you need help getting it out there, send me one of your pieces and I will wear it, tell everybody where i got it, put it on my blog, give you the credit you deserve and help you get your business booming. I’m all for doing what I can do to help. We all have hopes, dreams and aspiration, why not help each other reach them? Don’t ever let anybody talk you out or pull you away from your dreams.
Just remember, Philippians 4:13 “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” You can and you will, you just have to want to. I was never the most confident person growing up and even now as an adult I lack some confidence, but I’ve realized that feeling bad and making excuses for yourself will get you no where. When you want something, you have to go out there and get it regardless of what people say. NEVER GIVE UP, NO MATTER WHAT!
For anyone who is interested in my closet makeover business and would like to make an appointment, you can contact me via email at: email@example.com.
Trust me, you won’t even recognize your closet once I get done with it : ) and don’t forget how fly you will be looking after I style you!
Also please show your support and check out my blog. You will not be disappointed.
- Mercedes Marie Stevenson
This story was submitted to the blog by ShaGralia. These are the exact words of the author.
I have an addiction to words and movement. I can’t go a day without them. I know what you’re thinking like duh we have to talk and walk, I mean movement like dance and words like poetry. I’m ShaGraila but most people call me Gray Hamm. I’m 20 and at this age I still care about how the ground would feel about my footstep. I have a big heart and I think I’m a good person at lease that what people tell me. I’ve lived my mother’s dream since I was a child. When I was 5 I told her I wanted to on Broadway and perform. Let’s just say I’m in college taking classes to be a doctor. No bright lights, costumes, make-up, scripts, or anything. I’ve always wondered why does God give people talents when nobody believe in them? Are they really blessings or just a curse? Why would He give me something that I can’t stop thinking about for nobody to let use them? People tell me to follow my dreams and set goals. I’ve done that. I just want to change one persons life with words. I want to dance my way into their hearts. I want my mom to understand that we do stupid things when you want to people to love us. That I’ve been stupid since I was 5 and now at 20 I’m trying to find the easiest to make it look like I haven’t been hurting. Last year, 2012, I stopped do everything for her to happy and proud of me. This year, 2013, I can’t just sit here and wait for I have lives to change. I have to be proud of me and follow my heart. I will continue my pursue on being a doctor but I will never stop writing or dancing. I know that God has a plan for me bigger than I could ever image. So I stop questioning and start using the talents He has given me. I couldn’t image living without them.
This is a picture of something I did at my school last year. I wrote out 1,986 sticky notes that each said “You’re beautiful” and stuck one to every locker in my entire school. I was so sick of people saying they weren’t beautiful, and I was so sick of people feeling bad about themselves. For one day, I wanted everyone to feel beautiful. So I did it. It took me over 6 hours to write them all, and an hour to stick them all. I never intended for anyone to find out it was me, but when I was found on camera for doing it and called to the deans office, everyone found out. They threatened a three day suspension. The students made a petition with over 600 signatures. It was amazing. For one day, I felt beautiful. And for one day, I managed to make every kid in my school smile. Every locker got one. Everyone is beautiful.
A few days later, I Had someone, a complete stranger approach me. And she told me, “That day, I was planning on killing myself. I had given up completely on society. Because of you I didn’t. You gave me hope. Thank you.”
She is now one of my best friends.