#roadto23

So for the last, salamat sa mga pangyayaring nagdaan at mga taong dumaan lang at sa mga nag stay sa buhay ko. Be it for good or bad. Thank you for being a part of my life! Hanggang sa muli!

"Kuya paki-picturan mo kami sa lahat ng bato" 😂 #elneedyou2016 #jederive #Roadto23 😂 #vscocam #vsco #vscoph (at Hidden Beach ,El Nido Palawan)

Growing up I was called the white girl in my family because I chose to talk proper, listened to Christina instead in of TLC, and hung out with white people. I had a mixed crowd of friends and I was always wiling to try new things. I chose a white school over a HBCU because I knew I wouldn’t fit in there. The summer after I lost everything, I started to attend an HBCU that fall. It was the worst idea ever. I have nothing against and I think every African american child should consider an HBCU when choosing college but it was not for me. I am pro-black and I know there is more to life than smoking, drinking, and partying. Towards the end in the my first semester at my new school I met some new people and also discovered a new hidden trait. 

Have a great weekend!!! 

Day 2 on my road to 23. When I was younger I was afraid to speak up for myself which caused me to get bullied. I was always the kind people that never had anything bad to say about anything or anyone. I never have a voice. I was taught not to speak until spoken to, that my opinions do not matter, and you should never speak if your voice is trembling. After my suicide attempt I was given an assignment in my 7th grade English class. It was to write a poetry book, 6 poems, free verse, haiku, and so on. At first I was worried about it because I did not think I was good enough to do anything like that, I did not know that there was a gift inside of me. I wrote from a deep, dark place, I wrote about my suicide attempt, I wrote about me bullied, and I wrote about how unhappy I was. I remember turning in my assignment, having my teacher set up an after school meeting with me, and tell you that I am gifted. All those years of being told that my voice did not matter just went out the window. My voice did matter. I started writing from that day forward. As I got older, my topic grew with me. When I was in college I was in a group called the B.L.A.C.K. Poets and they taught me how to take my words and make them come alive. I am so grateful for them. I learned not to be afraid to speak up for myself, about what I believe in, and even if my voice shakes speak anyway. God did not put this gift inside of me for me waste it. In saying all this, speak when you are afraid and you will be surprised by what is inside of you.