(Insert Tantrum Here)

Before I splatter my heart and soul all over this page, we need a gentle reminder.


This is MY space. I choose to be vulnerable and share it with your eyes and your judgments and your preconceived notions. I encourage genuine feedback, but please be overly confident if you choose to negate anything in my space. I may love you, but my tolerance level for pearl clutching and toxic positivism is in the negatives. The gloves are off.



For starters, I chose to read All the Ugly and Wonderful Things the week the kids’ dad got released from prison. It was a horrible, unconscious choice that wrecked me every single time I read a little more in the book. (Side note: It is INCREDIBLY written but not for the faint of heart… Probably one of my top books for 2025 so far…). Highly recommend. My timing was just off, which is literally an accurate description of my entire 44 years on this planet.



Anyway, the kids’ dad was released on March 28th. He’s served his time and is sober, so more power to him. He moved to Oklahoma with his girlfriend and is hoping for a new lease on life. He says the only responsibility he has is cleaning their pool. His life as a pool boy with no expenses seems to be thriving. He’s got four kids out here that have been raised by single moms who get nothing from him, but different strokes for different deadbeat folks, I suppose.



This leaves me with big feelings that took me by surprise. I honestly didn’t expect any feelings, but the fiery anger (and maybe resentment/disappointment/grief?) takes my breath away and spikes my blood pressure every time it crosses my mind. I’ve never expected life to be fair or just, but this takes the unjust nature of our time on this planet to a new, soul-crushing level. I’ve never had the opportunity to grieve the life I thought I’d have at 34 or 44, and that sucks. It leaves me feeling empty and alone. I went from losing a husband/ best friend/life partner to to being the single mom of a 1 and 2 year old quite literally in the same exasperated breath. I was in a relationship after my marriage that I hoped would last (if only because it was so vanilla and predictable), but in retrospect, only left Kannon with a “distant uncle” type relationship and me with a lot of wasted years on absolutely nothing. I am at the same place I was a decade ago, only now I have teenagers who expect perfection from their one present parent, and don’t miss a beat.



What is so wrong with me that I am alone, hamster-wheeling through life and raising these two? Logically, I know that is a ridiculous statement, but that’s what is screaming at the top of my distorted brain at 3 am when I can’t sleep. How does an ex-con who has shit on everything good he’s ever been handed walk out of prison to a life of ease and luxury, while I’m over here not paying the internet so I can pay the electric? I will process more as time goes on… or maybe I won’t… because I am so tired and irritated that I’ve already given so much of myself and my peace to this idiocy.



In addition to that, it has dawned on me 15 years too late that nothing I had with the kids’ dad was real. He is a shapeshifter and will contort to fit whatever his current meal ticket finds suiting. He did it for me until he couldn’t. He hit a ceiling and just wore himself out pretending to be someone he wasn’t. His current situation may last, just because he’s too tired, sick and felonious to start again. Another personally startling realization is this: I’ve never been in love and I have never been emotionally safe in any romantic relationship I’ve cultivated. It’s interesting that I saw potential where there was none and jumped in with both feet every. single. time. Therapy has shed light on that, but understanding the why of things doesn’t alleviate or change anything. Maybe Mr. Right will enter the scene someday. Maybe I’m just tired and don’t have the energy or faith to find out. We shall see, I guess. I’ve poured so much of my magical self into the shittiest humans on Earth, and that’s nauseating to reconcile…



Well, I better get off of here. I have to grab Kannon from school and take him to the dentist, then pick up my car from the body shop in Victoria, then come back to work and finish up some expense reports and time sheets, then grab the kids from school, get Anaiah to her lash appointment, then figure out dinner, then pay the mortgage (which is two months behind), the electric bill, the internet, the disposal invoice (possibly three months behind), pack our stuff for Anaiah’s district track meet tomorrow, wash her jersey, make breakfast for the kids for tomorrow, and text Kannon’s coach to make sure he has a ride home from school tomorrow… since I will be at Anaiah’s district track meet. I get that I am blessed because I get ALL of my kids ALL the time. I would not like splitting time with anyone else and trusting anyone else to care for them. This is not a celebratory post for single parenthood. It is okay to honestly lament the painful, heavy, life-altering seasons of life. It is normal and human to feel awful and sad and all the things we hide in closets and sweep under bulging rugs. It is important to sit with those feelings and give them the space they demand, then trudge directly through them to the other side. Writing helps me do that, and I am promising myself that I will make it more of a priority as I continue through this startling era of existence.



The Key to Whatever is Next

Transparency is the key to whatever is next for all of us. I’ve just come into my own on that one, because for years I’ve been folding more and more into myself. Sunday’s message was a doozie, and so timely. I feel like Richard is in my head every time he’s planning a sermon. His sermons speak volumes to us, and that’s what we need.

The message was on a lot of things, but my takeaway was regarding relationships –ย  specifically how we need to fertilize and tend to our relationships. We can spread the gospel and witness to those closest to us with love, in turn creating a domino effect that reaches well past our front and back doors and property lines. Mother Teresa once said, “If you want to bring happiness to the whole world, go home and love your family.” Substitute ‘Christ’ for ‘happiness’ and we’re exactly there. She also said, “If we have no peace, it is because we have forgotten that we belong to each other.” Both fully apply. There’s been a common thread in all of my goings on lately. The words spoken to me through various tangible and intangible avenues are all surrounding relationship, trust, abundance, and tenacity. So, somehow that all equals transparency. In order to be the hands and feet of Jesus on this hell-centric Earth, we need to give our real selves to the light of day instead of protecting our most vulnerable parts with the shadows of dark night.

I absolutely love staying in the shadows of the dark and praying no one will see me or even notice I’ve checked out. Its super comfy and self-serving. But, I’ve stayed there too long, checked out for too long. According to several professionals and books, it’s changed the way my brain works and my body chemistry. I’m a different person than I was because of my learned tendency to withdraw, which is not innate for me. Humans are created to crave fruitful community and, contrary to popular belief, I am still human. So, with that being said, Jesus is still in my heart, and God is still on the throne, and I’m not buying the neatly wrapped crap the greater “they” is gifting me.ย  I’m going to open up and vulnerably pray my way through the newness. I’m being lead down this path. Otherwise, you can bet your booty I’d never, ever pick it. Here we go. We will see where I’m lead. Spoiler alert – it will be into the light and away from the darkness for this season of my life.

Isaiah 41

Transparency won’t change some people’s perspective of me or you. Some people will toss it aside because their perceived version is more buttery and flavorful. You know these people, too. They usually don’t read blogs and are still buying into the 80s marketing ploy – hook, line, and sinker –ย  that whole grain is the way to weight loss (I’m lookin’ at you, Cheerios commercials). Side note: whole grains are not the way to weight loss. Eating a bowl of Cheerios is the same as eating a bowl of sugar. Not all wheat-eaters are judgy, petty meanies. However, I’m not editing my accusation out, because the ones I’ve interfaced with most recently love gross, 80s cereals. Quickly… let’s move on…

When we offer our true, candid selves, often times these people respond to the “you” they’ve created, which in no way, shape, or form represents or resembles the real you. You cannot help them with this and its best to consider it none of your business. The reality is that we are only a whipping boy for whatever they need to project emotionally at the time. We are an empty box. “I’m not empty,” you tell me. I know this, but the point is they do not care. They prefer you empty, to dress and decorate in whatever fashion best serves their insecurities and self-fulfilling madness. They have an itch they can’t quite reach under their scapula and you’re the backscratcher they got in their stocking last Christmas. They keep you beside the chair in the living room in case they need you. Then back you go, shoved in between an old Reader’s Digest and last week’s obituaries, just in reach of the miniature poodle, who chews on you from time to time, whenever he’s bored. We have to be totally okay with that. Because, also in reality, it has nothing to do with us.

These people say they know you well. They genuinely think they do. “Oh, Chassati? I know her very well. I’ve worked with her for XX years.” “Oh, Chassati? Yeah, her ex-husband is in prison for drugs. I feel bad for those kids.” “Oh Chassati? Yeah, I know her. I’ve never understood why she moved here. I’ve heard she has a shady past.” These people walk among us and believe they know us, well enough to actually converse with others about the intricacies of our lives. But they don’t. Not even close. It’s easier to pretend to know me (or you) and slather interesting, juicy icing all over the top of whatever meaningless conversation they were having at our perceived self’s expense while silently judging one another, than to actually sit down in the quiet and have a cup of coffee with themselves. Therein lies one of the tragedies of the human condition. What we see inside us hurts us, disappoints us, and is more difficult to compartmentalize than external strife, so we project on others, because for those smuggish moments, we feel superior and validated. And also, humans are the laziest of animals and it’s really hard to be honestly introspective. Like, the hardest.

Nayyirah Waheed

I will tell you who I am and what matters to me, and you will receive that as truth or you won’t. Chatter amongst yourselves. Project all kinds of dysfunction and blaspheme on my little family of three. Prophesy on how my life will turn out desperate and desolate, plagued with bad decisions, and how my children will struggle and suffer at the hands of their parents’ iniquities and sins. Can you believe that there are actual people in this small town that have wasted their bandwidth searching the internet for the reasons Ren went to prison, instead of coming by my cubicle, popping their head in, and asking? Not-so imaginary person could ask, “So why is your ex-husband in prison, if you don’t mind me inquiring?” to which the real me (not their perceived, catty, whorish me) would reply, “Not at all. Assault and drugs. Lots of drugs.” Why do these people not just ask at work, or in line at the tiny HEB, or while waiting for a table at the Mexican food restaurant? Because their perceived me is shameful and secretive and elusive about the skeletons in perceived me’s closet, when in reality, the skeletons are pretty much in the front yard and a lot less interesting than the emotionally projecting masses had hoped. Oh, here we are back at the honestly introspective thing. Interesting how that tends to happen. If God is for me, I am not bothered by little ole’ Petty Mayonnaise, or her mom n’ ’em, or her ex-husband’s new girlfriend… You get the point.

Audre Lorde

Trust puts an interesting twist on transparency. I’ve been telling myself for years that I don’t trust people so, for the love of her mom n’ ’em, quickly lock up everything of worth and throw away the key. Build fences and walls so high and so solid that nothing can penetrate. But how ignorant is it to trust people in general? That shouldn’t even be a thing. People will absolutely always fall short of what trust seeks. We trust God and love people. Reserve trust for the One who is constant and omnipresent and absolutely will never hang us out to dry. Love people and God will connect the dots. He always has, even when I have not been faithful or deserving of provisions. He’s always made the crooked paths straight. I’m the one who generally screws up the plan and runs, screaming, into the bushes and finds myself back on the crooked path, needing my Father to give me another hand to find my way back to the straight one. If we’re honest, we can surely all admit that we are never that faithful or deserving of God calling us his own. That’s kind of one of the huge points of Christianity.

viola davis

It’s taken me an entire lifetime to arrive at this place, and I’m not slipping back into the black hole from which I emerged. We are not defined by our past or our hardships or the horrific people who we have entertained at our tables and in our beds for whatever length of time. We are defined by our right to a place at God’s table in his home with all of our brothers and sisters gathered. Abundance. That’s where that one comes into the conversation. Put your hands out to receive. Internalize this and get your worthy hiney out of the pits of desolate desperation, too. Hey, I don’t deem you worthy. God does. Who are we to argue? I promise, freedom is so much better. Grace is my favorite, y’all. My absolute favorite.

A few questions for the road:

  1. What is your favorite thing about yourself? How would sharing this favorite thing more (being more transparent) create positive change/growth/evolution in your life’s relationships?
  2. What is the most horrible thing that has ever happened to you? How would sharing this most horrible thing more (being more transparent) create positive change/growth/evolution in your life’s relationships?

Share the answers to these with me, or your best friend, or your journal. Relationship with God, relationship with ourselves, relationship with family, relationship with community. This is the formula to changing the world. We start with ourselves, and the people in our immediate world. Then the wildfire catches wind.

I’m going to leave you with some thoughts from two of my favorites, Brene and Bec. Brene wrote it and Bec posted it. I simply stole it.

Brene and Bec