I rarely write about books mid-read.  I like time to process the work in its entirety.  With this, however, I just have too much to say.  I think it's a book everyone should read, because everyone can take something positive away from it.

     There was a chapter that made me literally hurl the book across the room, run for the bathroom, and pray to the procelain god for about half an hour.  There are chapters that make me cry inside, and chapters that, before I even realize it, I had resumed my years-old habit of biting my nails. 

     I love the way the book is written.  It's conversational, but still poetic in places.  It's not one of those, "I didn't understand half the words in there," type of books.  It just…  clicks…  It hits in a place deep within that you haven't tended to in a very long while, if ever. 

     I've read a little over half.  Unlike most books, I am taking my sweet time to make sure I don't miss anything.  It feels as though this book were written for me.  At first, it seemed to be screaming, "See!  There will always be somone worse off than you, so quit your bitching and get on with it!" 

Then, it mellowed out and I got the feeling that the author genuinely feels that any life can be traumatic, because it's how we process the events that makes or breaks us, and that can't be measured.  What could break my spirit may just make you uncomfortable.  That doesn't make it any less hurtful for me. 

Then it came to patterns: when you've not had great examples set for you, and you can't figure out what's wrong with the picture, you're bound to keep repeating those patterns and winding up in the same holes.  I did a lot of that growing up, but unlike Iyanla, I did have a few people who helped me climb out of the holes, see what didn't belong, fix what was broken, and avoid the next pitfall.  There were other times that I needed that and there wasn't anyone there…  But, in all fairness, when people were there, I didn't always listen when they spoke, or follow their directions, but they were there, dammit!     

     And now we're at responsibility.  How do you go about fixing the wrongs, mending the breaks, and healing your total self?  That's why I slowed down when I came to this point…  I know I need to listen, and listen well.


     Yesterday, I cried.  Yesterday I cried because of all the hearts of all the matters.  I cried because while I love my children with all my heart, I am still not the mother they deserve.  I cried because I love my husband more than he will ever know, yet day after day, I can't show him.  I cried because I want to speed my physical healing process, so that it no longer hinders my emotional healing process.  I cried because I miss so many people.  I cried because so many people weren't who I needed or wanted them to be.  I cried because I'm not the person others need or want me to be.  I cried because I haven't been able to cry when I needed to.  I cried because, no matter what anyone else says or thinks or feels, I know I have come a long way from the scared 16 year old on the plane, the wreckless 16, 17, and 18 year old in high school, and the irresponsible 18, 19, and 20 year old, and despite all that learning and healing and attempts to make amends, I cried more because I know I still have a long way to go…