I Fought for You

I'm lucky lately when I don't go immediately back to bed after giving a morning stroll to the kitchen for some water or healthy wake me up snack. I'm a month and a half pregnant, scared, insecure, and experiencing chronic depression which I previously thought not possible. I thought my darkest days had been left long ago in the streets of beautifully polluted Los Angeles.

I was wrong. That darkness, that gut wrenching pain, that out of control lost feeling is back, and I am fighting everything and everyone like a cat clawing its way out of drowning waters. One day, I literally felt like I was drowning in hell with no one to turn to. Like what it might feel like to watch your child be murdered in broad day light & your screaming for help and everyone sees you, but no one does a thing to help. Ya, that's how I felt a couple weeks ago, but about myself. I'm still recovering from that day with scars to prove what I am going through is deep enough to penetrate all layers of my happiness and hope. I've been searching for the lesson in this all... feeling paralyzed with fear and exhausted with anxiety. There's people screaming they love me, but it sounds like the quietest pen drop muffled by my resentment that I am even going through this.

I have everything good in my life I thought i'd never have. A really handsome brave man trying to love me, my chance at stopping the cycle of abuse in my family, a college degree, a loving relationship with my daughter....yet my self destructive patterns show their true colors again. This time with vengeance.

Tonight I dragged my gloomy ass to a restorative yoga class once and for all with the intension to be unified with God. I felt my heart calling me home immediately as I placed the eye covers over my face.

On my way home, I was driving hearing my own thoughts. I thought to myself, "jeez, I don't even know what it feels like to feel loved. Have I felt loved before? I must have; it's just been a while I've been depressed that I can't remember." I was searching my memories of feelings trying to remember what it felt like to be loved, and I was having such trouble jogging that feeling. Until all of a sudden, my voice said so loud and strong and clear, "I LOVE YOU ROBIN. THAT'S WHY I AM STILL HERE FIGHTING FOR YOU."

It was strange. Had I thought that thought & then told it to myself or was it God? I don't know, but I felt it like a ton of bricks made up of truth. I thought to myself whoa, that speaks to me. I know what that means... and its right. Something inside myself loves me so much that throughout my whole chaotic, traumatic, beautiful, ugly, crazy life, something keeps putting up the fight for me. Something drives my ass to a yoga class, or a nut house, or a therapist. Something empowers me to overcome addiction, bulimia, society's ridicule of my exploitation. Something stopped me from taking my life more than once. Something keeps me hanging on to hope because it believes in my freedom & happiness. That something is inside of me, and even if I can't feel the love of anything else... I can know and feel that love I have for myself to keep fighting for my life.

This time my strategy is not violence, but to make friends with my demons and see what the mother fuckers wanted from me this whole time.

Like a Warrior Goddess.

The Words "I love you" are so boring

The words "I love you" are so boring
They're the only ones we're given to express this deep human connection
yet the words fall like blank bullets out of my mouth piercing nothing, nothing at all
disappointing me, failing to mean what I want them to mean

They are so boring and meaningless in the light of what I'm aching to say

How then can I release this explosion of human experience?
How then can I make sure the one's I "love" know this experience manifesting within me?
How then can I feel satisfied and relieved expressing my truth about the greatest sensations and knowings ever to arise?

So, I vomit. I vomit from the heart.

It's the way my hands melt into yours letting the warmth overcome me, seeping through layers of skin
The blood pulsating through my face and swirling in my eyes when we look at each other
That deep knowing of being seen
That deep feeling of tears arising in my throat
 The gratitude and humility of having the privilege to start seeing someone back
That innocence in their eyes, that soul so hungry to be seen
I see the years, maybe even life times of this person waiting to be seen, so deserving
Knowing it's me that has been chosen to see them
The fear that melts away and the time that stands still
It's the safety amongst the uncertainty
When you see someones actions line up consistently for the first time
The awe and wonder in my ears, eyes, nose, and temples of my forehead when I look at you
The knowing, just the knowing of something greater then us.

Something magical. Something fierce.

Ready to Fly

To Phillip,

Thank you for being being you… this poem is said in a whisper. 

Ready to Fly ~

At a time in my life when I was just about to fly, he came, he really came.

My feet were still touching the ground, I’m scared, so scared.

The fear to let go of everything I held close,  so strong

I need help, I need help.

At a time in my life when I was being called to go higher, he came he really came.

My heart had been ripped back open, I’m scared, so scared.

The fear said I’d never make it out there without the demons, it lied deep lies.

 I need help, I need help.

At a time in my life when I couldn’t house or clothe my child, he came, he really came.

My soul burned everyday telling me to scream my story, I’m scared, so scared.

He held my hand, my heart, my child, my fear, so I’m brave, I can be brave.

It’s ok to need help… I need help! Someone help!

At a time in my life when I was ready to let go, he came, he really came.

My spirit he penetrated teaching me to believe, I’m loved, so loved.

He told me he’s here now, I let my feet lift off the ground, I’m flying, I’m flying. I’m finally flying!

I needed help, he came, he really came.

And She Whispered Loudly

I am beautiful… I am free.

If everything is really a lesson working on my behalf to better this life, then my lessons just keep getting sweeter as the years go by. And by sweet, I do not mean easy, just juicier and softer on the eyes of my heart.

Relationships tend to be one of my biggest triggers, and that makes sense for grown children of traumatic upbringings. And for everyone for that matter. No ones had a perfect life. If the people who were “supposed” to love me and teach me the world was safe accidentally created the opposite scenario for me, of course as I grown up I will not trust, I will struggle to let myself be loved, and the way I view myself will fluctuate in the face of human interactions.

 One of the symptoms of borderline personality disorder is a fluctuating sense of self. It’s where one’s self-perceptions and way of viewing the world change from situation to situation based on the level of perceived safety and/or triggered trauma. I dare to say fuck the westernized diagnosis and disorders… is this not the human experience of many? Especially those who have been beaten with the words and the names of things we are not and never were? Whore, thief, liar, bad girl, bad boy, delinquent, F’s, learning disabilities, failure, depression, cancer, not good at math, stupid, bitch…. Etc.

We were taught to go against our innate nature and to create contradiction exasperated by worldly confusion within the deepest parts of our belief systems. 

So then, if we are so lucky, we choose to embrace our hardships and triggers to break free from the bondage of disillusionment. Last night, I was triggered by telling this beautiful and gentle man the details of my recent past. It’s a heavy thing for newbies in my life to process, let stab them in the gut, and then willingly let the pain drift away like a message in a bottle holding my history… for someone else to pick up one day and find the truth in it all.

I read his voice and became fearful that he will not accept me. I became consumed with the feeling that I am tainted, that I am not “normal,” and I can never tell a normal story to someone I love about my past. My stories are outrageous to say the least and shocking. When you think I couldn’t surprise you more, I do. It’s my life… it’s my story. But, who am I without my story? That is the real lesson here.

Last night I sat with the fear and the sorrow I felt for myself. I felt sadness for the things I put myself through, and I felt regret. Then I realized, this man is not judging me. I am judging me, still. Yes, I have grown by leaps and bounds and have moments of true self-love and miraculous earth shattering revelations… but my insides have not let completely go of the story I tell myself. The story of who I believe I am. The story of how I see myself and relate to the world.

 I sat to meditate on my heart space this morning. I knew the work that needed to be done was inside of me. Whether people judge me or not, whether this man stays in my life or not… the way I view myself and my life does not need to fluctuate.  I REPEAT: it does not need to fluctuate. I need no fixing, no undoing… only the letting go of what IS NOT TRUE. Just be Robin. Nameless, faceless, full of fire and energetic magical spiritual stuff… just having a human experience.

As I sat with my eyes closed in dimmed light before the sun came out, I asked my heart how it was inside. Usually I feel pain in my heart or heaviness, but not this time when I checked in. It had been a while since I checked in with my heart in silence. I felt almost nothing, and I thought to myself, “Is this what openness feels like?” And then a voice, my voice, said loud and clear, yet with no warning, and with the gentleness of a sweet confident whisper “I am freeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.” Ok heart. I must be doing a good job; We are free.

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I will be doing everything I can to fight the good fight. Help me make a difference. 

My Spanish Adventures

Blog Spain

I wanted adventure. I wanted reprieve. I wanted to feel something new inside me and all around me. I wanted to love myself more deeply. I wanted to be free. 

I got all these things and more.

At a time in my life where I was closing the epic adventure of "porn star-turned-mommy goes to college," I was also getting ready to travel across the world leaving my 5 year old daughter at home for 7 weeks. The epic adventure called college was where I would prove to myself and the world that I was far beyond just being a whore. That I actually had a brain, a heart, and a drive no one could match. I won 35 awards in 4 years. Because of my street smarts combined with my school smarts, I got to travel to Oahu, Maui, Tahoe, Thailand, Bali, Spain, & now Portugal without having a job. I don’t say this to brag; I say this because this journey has been absolutely ground breakingly magical… miracle after miracle. Sometimes it feels as if my life were on autopilot towards success no matter how many times I fell down. I had the honor to touch peoples lives, to stand up in front of hundreds of people to tell my story and passions. One time I had a standing ovation for which I wanted to crawl under the table and hide. May I never forgot what I am capable of, what we all are capable of. It’s mind blowing, and sometimes I forget. It’s easier to forget, than to remember, for remembering means you have to step up to the plate, no giving up. 

This academic journey has been my incubator cooking me, preparing me to stand strong against adversity out there in the real world. A world that raped me metaphorically and literally. A world that chewed me up, spit me out, and left me to die. I had no tools for living in it. And, now my college journey had come to a close and I felt so uneasy embarking on my Spain/Portugal trip this summer. I found myself wanting to drink the fear and uncertainty away. I found myself doubting everything I’ve worked for, doubting my parenting skills (which is ridiculous because I live and breath for that child), doubting my ability to be anything more than a sex worker… on n' on. I felt alone in Spain and misunderstood.

Then I hit a breaking point and let all that shit go. I jumped in the water, paddled hard, spit salt water out my mouth with vengeance, and went for wave after wave after wave until my body wouldn’t let me anymore. (I am talking about small waves, mind you.) Every time I got back on my board, A board, ANY board, I came back to myself, pretty much in the same way yoga and meditation bring me back to the present moment, back to who I feel I am, back to my strength & resiliance. It’s like it hits a reset button. Like when you’re playing mortal combat or some video game and you don’t like your score- you can just give in and hit that reset button hahahaha. Every thing is like a video game to me for some reason. That’s why I liked school. Points involved? ALRIGHT IM IN! Reset button for the game of life. 

My first couple weeks, I was so worried about not having all the adventures I was craving until my friend invited me to meet her in the island of Ibiza for a really fancy adventure: private jet plane, giant white Spanish guest house with our own pool for skinny dipping, dancing naked on our own balcony, danced naked on a beach & climb rocks while our Italian dudes laughed at us and made sure we didn't die, being fed glorious meals by different people I met along the way, motor bike rides for beer and pizza, danced til 7am at the famous club Amnesia. Ibiza rocked my world for 4 days of twighlight zone.

 On the way to Ibiza I was like a manifestation magnet for adventures and romance. First, I ended up sitting next to a cool hippy dude that revealed to me he's a rock climber and all things outdoors. SCORE!! He showed me pictures on his phone of epic outdoors trips and my heart started pounding with excitement. We exchanged info, and we ended up going on a few adventures together and becoming life long friends, I am sure. He has a house in the mountains that I will come visit soon. He even hosted me at his mother's home and they treated me with such kindness and tenderness; I felt really special to be there and to have their welcoming and hospitality. Secondly, when I transferred buses to get to the airport, some hot blue eyed babe swooped me from the side and hosted me the rest of the way to the airport. He paid for everything and we laughed and tried to get to know each other even though his Spanish was so fast for me. As we parted, he demanded a kiss... he was so bold as to ask for french kiss with a little tongue! So, I just licked his face from chin to nose instead, and then I walked away. Now, we are pen pals. Butterfly inducing, exciting friendship kinda pen pals. He has a home in Malaga where I will stay with his family when I come back. SCORE again!! 

Upon my return to Comillas, where my school program was, I finally met some cool surfer dudes from Belgium & Holland. One totally swindled me at a club where I refused to go home with him (he had no shoes on for heaven's sake and sleeps in a caravan at a surf camp). The next day on the beach he waived to me while he was teaching surf lessons. None of the other surfer dudes had ever made effort to talk to me before so I was sure he was not waving to me! I looked behind me as to see who he was waving to and I never waved back. This dude was relentless because then he came up to talk to me even though I seemingly ignored him and refused his offer before ha ha. This time he invited me to have tea, and I thought that's pretty legit & nice. Fast forward, fell in love with all the amazing, open, funny, beautiful people at his Belgium surf camp he works at, fell in love with Oyambre beach, and my new surfer friends took me for a sunrise surf session to end it all. I caught lots of little waves and felt on top my own lil world. Every time I looked over at my new friends, my heart smiled because although I am not the greatest surfer yet, it feels really nice to share the love of surf with other people who know how you feel. I felt really appreciated by them, and that's such a nice feeling. I met so many other people... these are just the highlights.

I just wanted to be free... I just wanted to love myself a little deeper. In each of these special people, I saw my freedom and love of life reflected back to me. Thank you to the people who saw me for me, danced with me all night, surfed with me, fed me, helped me, and laughed with me. I don't always get everything I want, but I definitely come VERY VERY close on a regular basis. The life of Ernesto Manifesto. <3

Self Forgiveness

Dear Robin

I see you there child

I am sorry you felt so alone

I could not comfort you

I am sorry for all those terrifying nights when you thought it was over

I could not protect you

I am sorry the emotional pain kept out weighing the physical

I could not stop them

I am sorry you saw ugliness and rejection in the mirror everyday

I failed to wipe your tears

I am sorry you had to run and hide all those years

I could not find you

I am sorry your soul was crushed & your body dismantled

I could not put you back together back then

I am sorry you had to medicate night after night

I could not hide the medicine

I am sorry you lost hope on the bathroom floor, hospital bed, police car, hotel room
I could not pick you up

…

But I want you to know…

I did not abandon you

I was covered by your shame, your parent’s shame, and their parent’s shame…

I tried to find you

Take heart because Izabella has brought me to you, I’m here to stay

I got you sweetie, the nightmare is over now.

I have watched you transform, there’s no turning back

From this day forth

I will give you all the things you never had

I will hold you tight

I will protect you

I will strengthen you

I will love you dearly

I will hold your hand through all your victories

I will wipe your tears

I will delight your heart with friendships & romance

I have restored you

Please forgive me! I beg you.

Love,

Your Light

Who Has Loved You?

So, I feel like just free writing what my heart needs to express... One of my sobriety friends passed away in her sleep the other night. Her name to me was Chontelly. I had a rough going while I lived in LA & I would come crawling in to meetings with my tail between my legs & my hands shaking. Most of the time I was covered in shame and guilt for having relapsed and I needed someone to just take me in their arms and tell me it would all be ok, that I could get my life back. Chontelly was one of those main people for me at that time. Anytime... didn't matter how long I had been out... her face would light up to see me, she would shower me with love & touch & rub my back. She always included me & didn't let me feel left out. She told her story like a rock star & I looked up to her. I saw how she sponsored my friend "Roxy" at that time & I thought it was so sweet how they befriended each other. I wanted that because my lil broken spirit was so lonely. Chontelly made me feel worthy of love & friendship.
      At the end of my yoga practice today, I felt like my inner guidance, maybe "GOD," was calling me to close my eyes even though everyone was doing something else... and to just listen. So I did. I just listened as my mind chatter fluttered back n forth & I tried to zero in on my breath. And as soon as I let go of the panic, of the mind fucking... there it was. I was infused with the deep, overwhelming gratitude for the people who have loved me & who are loving me right now. I am a complicated chick with a complicated past, and a troubled heart, but I have been anointed. Something out there found me special enough to put hundreds of people in my path who have guided me & deeply deeply deeply loved me. They have picked me up literally from the ground and taught me how to love myself. They have begun to teach me who I am so that I may discover the rest on my own. These amazing men & women have unconditionally poured there love and blessings into me. For a girl who should be dead or hospitalized, this is an astounding realization.
       The death of my friend, my uncle, my grandma, and the attempted suicide of another friend this year has forced me to take a look at who has loved me. How precious is that gift? How grateful am I? And how can I take action to show my gratitude? How do I want to be remembered?
       Sometimes I am ashamed of how fast I fall in love. Sometimes I am ashamed of how open I am with people & how much I share. Sometimes I don't want people to see how sensitive I am. But this year of transformation and revelation has taught me the true meaning of the serenity prayer...."FUCK IT!" Every time I feel that shame come in, I will remember Chontell, my Uncle Jim, my Grandma, and my friend Gavin! I will fall in love with as many people & things as possible in this life time. I want to live & love with my whole being every fucking day! Like my friend Miguel says, "I don't love half way." I choose to believe its a gift the amount of love & gratitude I am capable of. Life is so short & half of it I spent suffering. Its my turn to shine & not be ashamed. I  will keep being sensitive & I will keep being open & authentic because I want to be remembered for all that I am. I want the people who have loved me to know with out a shadow of doubt that I appreciate them. Life is crazy beautiful... who has loved you?