IF YOU’VE EVER BEEN ABUSED (sexually, verbally, or mentally) you’ll remember when pulling hair, talking loud,calling you out of your name all meant a brother loved you. Professing rough necks over preppy dudes, bored and wanting more. When you met the love of your life and he softly caressed your hair, you asked him what was wrong BECAUSE LOVE DON’T FEEL LIKE THAT…IT SUPPOSED TO HURT. On your wedding night you wondered why a brother took his time in the art of lovemaking rather than a drive-by quickie? You even asked him, what was wrong BECAUSE LOVE DON’T FEEL LIKE THAT…IT SUPPOSED TO BE QUICK. Now the love of your life confused wondering why he’s not enough for you. Okay…seriously disturbed.
I overheard this song in the gym yesterday, bobbing to it (I’m a music lover) until the lyrics got me choked like a chicken bone in my neck. WHA–WHAT? An artist wrote a song about a vulnerable sister vomiting a lyrical love manifesto saying “I’ll just go ahead and give you my treasure, it’s just sex, making love is for whimps, I don’t love myself, so I can’t be good to you, let’s just f (bleep), forget the what-ifs (pregnancy, STD’s and AIDS), no emotions attached. WHA-What? Strong set up for sexual addictions. The most vivid example of schizophrenia I’ve ever met. Wake up & rebel against tossing your purity, & distinguish between reality and fantasy.Let God restore you. You were made for more. My heart grieves for the woman on this picture because although cartoonish, she does exist and she is out there thinking that this collection of abuse that she experiencing is her forever reality. Like the woman who was at the well, she is an awesome candidate to experience the love of Father God and be set free from the chains that bound her. #orphannomore