Who the hell is she anyway?

In some circles I go by Aziza. Those are pretty old circles. Today I use my real name, Rene. It means, literally, re-birth. And to say I’ve gone through a small rebirthing process over the last year is a little like saying Donald Trump has a slightly off-color complexion. Massive understatement.

To that end, I’m starting this blog all over again in 2017 (since it’s original inception in 2010.) Nothing I’ve written in the past has any bearing on the person I am today, so shortly all old entries will be deleted. They truly only weigh me down at this point. Not that they will be completely forgotten. I am currently working with my therapist on the manuscript for my first memoir, and no doubt most entries will appear there in some form or another.

So, who am I today?  As of right now, I’m a single mother of a teenage daughter, living on a fixed income in a medium sized city in Wisconsin. Recovering IV drug addict.  A post-surgical gastric bypass patient who struggles with a restrictive eating disorder.  Bisexual and non-monogamous, with a proclivity towards the kinky.  Artist and writer.  Half black, half white, and all shades of gray in between.

Of course there’s plenty that hasn’t changed over the years…

A part of me is still Aziza.  (When I was 14 I was told this means “precious” in Swahili.  I don’t know if this is true, and frankly I don’t give a damn; but I love the idea behind it.  I’m claiming my preciousness.)  I’m still a wordy chick.   A 45 year old who thinks lying about your ages is stupid, even though I find myself doing it once in awhile.  Child abuse survivor.  Emotionally immature for my age.  Prolific utterer of profanity.  A pagan-friendly, christian-friendly, native-friendly buddhist-leaning, non-denominational spiritualist.  Huge fan of striped clothing and knee-high socks.  Voracious caffeine addict, preferably in coffee flavor.  And a born-and-bred midwesterner  (It’s a water-fountain dammit.  You don’t drink BUBBLES.)

I still wear my bleeding heart on my sleeve, and my thoughts on the tip of my tongue.   I am liable to write about all the above aspects of myself, or something altogether different.  I am likely the woman your mother warned you about, who turns out to be the sweetest girl you’ll ever meet.  All opinions expressed here are my own, so I don’t claim they are right, but I do claim they are valid.  But enough of the intros.
Welcome to the fire in my head…

 

Disclaimer:  Names have been abbreviated in this blog to protect the identity of the guilty.  I don’t think anyone I actually know is innocent.

p.s.s.  If anyone can give me a photo/artistic credit for my header art, that would be much appreciated.  I admit to being a shameless internet art pirate, but now that I’m using it in a more public setting, I would like to give credit where credit is due.

2 Comments

  1. I can’t agree more with you about the BUBBLES comment. You really do have a flare for writing. Interesting, but very real.

  2. Hi – I just stumbled onto your blog today and wanted to let you know that read some and that I was here.

    Be well,
    M.L.


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