Author: LaToya M. Davidson-Perez

It’s that special day, Valentine’s Day! For many, the day represents love. For others, it’s just another day that’s true meaning has been sapped up and spit out by commercialization. I believe it’s a little of both. Mostly, it’s just another day.

I feel like I am much changed from the person who gave up her virginity on this day twenty-one years ago. The emotions now removed from the experience, I look back at the memory of who I was. Fast forward twenty-one years, and I’m finally letting go of a unique but unappreciative and undeserving love (aren’t they all?!) from my past. I’m allowing life’s events to wash over me. I take a calming few deep breaths, to be human. This is me. Continue reading “The Gift of Love” →

In truth, I borrowed the title of my post from the text of the book I’m currently reading. I’m a sucker for Grace Burrowes’ novels. Sometimes in life, we can’t get over but we must try to move past situations and people. As I drove to Milledgeville through the torrential rainstorm yesterday, I took an almost literal trip down memory lane. I admit that there were moments where I was driving from muscle memory. The dreariness of the day only further hampered my mood. Sure, I was going to see my BFF in person for the first time in six years, but before that, I had an additional journey that I had to make.

When I drive through Eatonton on my way to Milledgeville (because I still have my car serviced where I purchased it), I make it a point to remember the first home I purchased, everything that happened in my life during my years there, what has changed since then. However, I never drive to see it in its present state, I have to physically avoid the assured pang that I would feel by seeing my first home in any other state than I left it in. Alas, my roaring twenties through my mid-thirties were difficult. I devoted most of my life and time to a job and career that I walked away from and sold the home that I thought I may have lived in forever. I cared for a handful of people that produced a lifetime of pain. There remains an uneasiness when I go back. Fortunately, it’s not a trip that I have to take often. Continue reading “For My Own Experience Skews My Perspective” →

Life, unscripted. Last Monday morning, I awoke from my slumber after having had a restless sleep. As is often the case, I couldn’t really remember what I had dreamt about. Whatever it was, the entire day, I felt a deep and visceral feeling of self-loathing. I couldn’t remember a time where I’d so hated myself. However, as they say, this too shall pass. By Tuesday, things had started to settle itself, but on Wednesday, it was clear why I’d felt unrest on Monday.

There are people in your life that have always been there. Regardless of any kicking or moaning, my mother has always instilled in us the love of family. Like her mother before her, mom made sure that we knew our kin. Whether it was this aunt or this cousin, mom wants us to never lose our family ties. We are not like most, we spend a lot of time together, and we talk on the phone or contribute to our group WhatsApp thread frequently. We are so close that I live within 20 minutes of my parents and 10 minutes of my brother and his wife. And so, Wednesday seemed like it would be like any other day of the week, starting with my mom sending out her daily inspirational messages. I was wrong. Continue reading “The Last of the Greats” →