Woman Arise
By Tia Shamone
()
About this ebook
Imagine finding out that your mother has six months to live, and your husband was planning a divorce to be with an acquaintance all at the same time. That's what happened to me. In 2012, my life came crashing down right before my very eyes, and there wasn't anything I could do about it. I used to be the one who had everything under control. If m
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Woman Arise - Tia Shamone
Introduction
I
magine finding out that your mother has six months to live, and your husband was planning a divorce to be with an acquaintance all at the same time. That's what happened to me. In 2012, my life came crashing down right before my very eyes, and there wasn’t anything I could do about it. I used to be the one who had everything under control. If my Plan A didn't work, I would have a Plan B for backup. This time, I had nothing. I didn't know what to do or who to turn to.
But God…
Talitha Cumi (Woman, Arise!) was a command for me to come out of depression, bitterness, brokenness, and unforgiveness. Though it wasn’t easy, however, I learned a lot during the process. One lesson I had to learn was that it's okay to grieve, but it's not healthy to grieve for too long. I also learned not to focus on what happened to me but on what’s happening to me."
Despite all I’ve been through, who would have thought that I would become…
an Ordained Minister,
a Girls Mentor,
a Life Coach (helping other women to arise),
an Empowerment Speaker, and
an Author.
So, I’m here to encourage you. Whether you are going through something right now or you just got through something, just know that trouble doesn’t always last. If you don’t fall into either category, then your time is coming!
I believe that this experience wasn’t just for me but for every woman who has suffered a loss in her life. Just know that if I can make it, so can you!
You are never really prepared for the life-altering events that you go through. However, when you get through it, you will find that joy really does come in the morning.
~Tia Shamone
Momma’s girl
I
am the youngest of three. The story about how I came into existence is hilarious to me. My mother told me she only wanted two kids: a boy and a girl. My brother and sister, who are exactly one year apart, were born on the same day but in different years. For four years, my mother had her perfect family. She told me that one day, she had a doctor’s appointment to get her birth control pills, but my father wouldn’t watch my brother and sister. My mother got mad and decided to skip her appointment. Before she finished her story, I said, …., and here I am! I’m a bad mutha…. shut my mouth!
All she could do was laugh at my response. My mother told me that story when I was well in my late twenties. It didn’t bother me at all that she only wanted two kids. After hearing her story, I knew that it was God’s plan and that I was here for a purpose. Besides, I knew she was happy that she had me. I was her baby girl. There was never a time when she didn’t show me just how much she loved me.
My mom was a great mother! She was always sacrificing for me. As a child, I used to wake up in the wee hours of the morning, standing on her side of the bed, tapping her because I was hungry. After several taps and me saying, Ma, ma, maaaaa…..
a thousand times, she would get up and fix me something to eat. Grits! To this day, it is still my all-time favorite breakfast. I do not recall her ever complaining. She always said she did not believe in letting a child go hungry.
My mom was a true nurturer. I remember her lying on the sofa with me with a warm washcloth over my ear to soothe my ear infections. She was also there for me when I had my tonsils removed.
My mother was a great teacher. She taught me how to count using playing cards. Solitaire was her favorite game to play. Whenever she put down a card, she would have me say the number each card represented. By the time I went to Head Start, I knew how to count. I knew my A, B, C’s. I knew how to spell my name. I knew my address, how to tie my shoes, and how to play Solitaire. She loved telling others the story about me quitting preschool. I recall her telling family members that I said I didn’t want to return to school because I had already known everything the teacher was teaching.
My mother always tried to do her best. When she used to do my hair for school, she said whenever I looked in the mirror, I would scream and yell, I can’t go to school like this!
She would laugh because she knew she wasn’t good at doing hair, but at least she tried. To solve this problem, I had to get Jerry Curls until I was old enough to do my hair.
My mother always had my back. When I used to get in fights with my brother and sister, she would take my side even if I started it. She would always tell them, Don’t put your hands on my baby!
In her eyes, I could do no wrong.
When I was four years old, my mother and father got a divorce, and she went from being a housewife to a single working mother. Although my father was in our lives and supported us financially, she had to raise three kids by herself. We moved to a three-bedroom apartment complex on the Southside of Savannah, GA, called Crossroads Villa, where there were other single mothers and their children. We were all like family. If my siblings and I were doing something wrong and one of the mothers saw us, it was okay for that mother to chastise us and tell our mother when she returned home.
I tried to be the best child I could be. I would listen to my mother. For the most part, I obeyed