“uprooted” – The Poem

You moved me and I didn’t want to go.
I complained and sighed at the inconvenience of the timing of my misfortune; I was moved from my comfort zone and
Placed in a spot where I didn’t expect to bloom.
Initially I longed for the familiar dirt that I’d grown so well in…
How was I supposed to realign my leaves and branches back
Towards the sun, towards the Light
That I’d hidden from under shades of
Distraction and shifted focus when
I wasn’t in the secure location that allowed me to
Grow and thrive?
A couple of days later I found that I’d
Slowly adjusted –
That I no longer longed for the soil that I’d built a routine in but
My Maker had realigned my focus back towards Him and
Away from my discomfort, and in the ability of me or my surroundings to
Fix my problems.
My roots, although displaced,
Grew deeper and stronger and more dependent in my Maker’s Hands and care.
My uproot from there to here was more necessary and bigger than my mind could comprehend.


GROWTH – Part 1: uprooted

Due to some unforeseen toilet issues, I was crashing at my grandparents’ house all last week. Thankfully, the issues were resolved towards the end of the work week; however, I took up a dog/house-sitting gig located in the same area that my grandparents live in, so needless to say, I didn’t get the chance to stay in my house at all last week.

At the beginning of all this, I was really frustrated; I had to move a lot of my belongings from my home to a new location, which always means I’m bound to forget something important. My routine was thrown slightly off, although it was nice to be a little closer to work than usual. Last week just wasn’t what I intended it to be.

But as the week went on, my frustration subsided, and my perspective of the situation shifted. This year, my sister and I decided to see my grandparents who live in the area more often than we had in the past, so we see them two Sundays out of the month, hanging out at the house, catching up with them, sometimes eating dinner with them.

Last week I was given the opportunity to be in their lives for more time than I usually am. I was able to talk to them more about specific things affecting my life and their lives. I heard where they spent their time, and who they spent their time with during the week. And of course, I got a lot of grandparent lovin’, and who doesn’t want that?

It made me more grateful to be with them, despite the uproot of my belongings and my routine. Although uncomfortable and inconvenient at first, I see the benefits of being with my grandparents, and even being away from my own home. I can’t say exactly why God allowed this to happen this week, but the thoughts and ideas of an uproot – of changes, shifts, relocation come to mind…

Maybe last week I needed to be separated from my home because I was getting too comfortable with my normal routine. Sometimes monotony can cause me to forget the bigger picture of who I am/who God has called me to be, where I am, what I’m working towards, etc. It can also bring about lack of motivation, which I honestly have been feeling a little bit of. Maybe it was just time to spice things up a bit.

Maybe I needed to get out of my house to realign my focus. Truthfully, February brought about a lot of changes for me – some good, some bad. I started eating horribly again (after Valentine’s Day hit with all that sugar, I could. Not. Stop.), I began doing more things towards reaching my goals, which is good, but I was also losing so much sleep, and I was filling my days with so many events/meetings/hang outs, I would get to the end of my days and wonder what I even did during the day. And, of course, I barely blogged at all during the month because I was doing more running around. I was moving so much, my focus was off. And maybe I needed to just dive into a new space to shift everything back into place.

And I almost finished this blog post, but as I re-read the above paragraph, I can’t help but get excited. Because I used a word that I’d been praying about all last week and into this week, that God would just work through it – the word realignFor me, the significance stems from the line of a song titled “Born Again” by Cory Asbury, in which he sings, “Realign my heart and help me keep the first things first.” All I’m saying is…if this whole week was part of the answer to my prayer, I am extremely humbled and in awe of my God. Like, wow. His care for His children always blows me away.

Maybe my uproot was necessary to stimulate my creativity. It gets harder to write the more normal my routine is, the more comfortable I am with where I am. It also gets harder to write when I’m just crashing in the bed at night instead of giving myself time to wind down like I did at the beginning of the year. I’m telling you, February rocked my world.

And honestly, all of this has inspired a new theme for the month of March – growth. I had already planned to focus more on nature/greenery/green things this month anyway on my Instagram, and for my poetry, but last week the Lord really revealed Himself to me, tapped me on the shoulder, and whispered, Just watch what I do here as I move you up to your grandparents’ house for the week. Wait for me to reveal to you the positives of this uproot, and the lessons you need to learn. Listen to my voice as you go throughout this week in a different way than you normally would. See what I’m showing you? Now, go; work with what I’ve given you, what I’ve put inside you.

So, here I am doing just that. Yes, I’m still working through this, and I’m HELLA EXCITED that I’m in the midst of it. Yes, I just started a little mini-series of blog posts for the time-being, and I honestly wasn’t even expecting it to be like this, BUT HERE WE ARE!

And YES…there will be a set of poems about this. Stay tuned for the next parts of this series and the poems!

#MishyWrites #GROWTH 

“Inspired by ‘The Souls of Free Folk’ by Josiah Golson” – A Poem

With today being the last day of February i.e. Black History Month, and also #WakandaWednesday (took this from Lupita Nyong’o on Instagram 🙏🏽), I have decided to release the written version of a poem I wrote at the beginning of February that was inspired by my dear friend Josiah Golson’s book The Souls of Free Folk. His masterpiece pushed me to really think about my own story of my melanin — how growing up with a white stepfather and Asian mother affected my views on being black, and how it honestly made me less aware of the black culture and some of the struggles within it. I sought to be a part of my black culture, but didn’t feel like I could because I was raised differently, and had never experienced things that my fellow black friends, brothers, and sisters had experienced. Add this with some questions from high school classmates and friends, and I became highly insecure in my biological blackness, and lack of living out stereotypical black culture.

I am grateful that the parents who raised me, and even my parents who lived away from me never made me feel like I was incapable of anything just because of my skin tone. They acknowledged our biological differences, but never made me feel less than; I was always assured that I was beautiful, intelligent, and capable. And being told these things growing up – especially by a white, male father figure – I feel like it caused me to have a mindset that didn’t see me as inferior to white people most of the time.

But now that I am older, I long to be more aware of the fight for equality that people of color are still fighting for. Not only do I want to be more aware, but I want to learn and understand how I can do my part and use my voice and love on the black community as well as other cultures and races.

And so, here are the thoughts that came to mind on February 3rd, after attending Josiah’s book release…

“Inspired by The Souls of Free Folk by Josiah Golson”

I returned to my home with a spark turned ablaze —

A spark that had always longed to be ignited by more than just the

Guilt and shame of inexperience,

Lack of understanding and some


Not to mention some lost identity…

The years I’d wasted thinking I was exempt from such

Hostility simply because of the color of

My family’s skin.

As I grew older and these issues took the spotlight with pressing matters,

My attempts to care and want to have an opinion also grew.

But what could I offer, what could I do

As an interracial girl raised amongst

Mostly white culture

Who’d honestly forgotten and

Somewhat abandoned that piece of her…

At least mentally I did.

But physically, it was there and it still is.

And I feel a responsibility a

Duty to my ancestors, to my family

To speak up, to support

All my black brothers and sisters.

I’ve stayed silent for too long,

Afraid of others’ thoughts on my story my

Lack of struggle,

When really, the life I’ve lived is one that all black people are fighting for:

One in which there is no question of if I’m capable of achieving something

Just because I’m black.

No fear of what other people can do to me

Because I’m black

No caution in any interactions just to stay alive no

Depression from not being chosen

Because the competition was white.

I’m not saying I’ve had the perfect life all black people long to live but

My story is one of massive privilege that not many of my brothers and sisters can say they’ve had.

And it aches my heart and soul to see that

The life I’ve lived isn’t the norm for all.

And with this flame, I long to speak life and love and care to

My black brothers and sisters —

To firmly stand beside them as they continue to fight for equality,

To proudly be aware of my own black heritage to

Embrace it with all that I am.

To remind each and every one of them that,

Yes, luvvies,

Your lives do matter, and

You are kings and queens, you

Are capable of accomplishing anything and becoming anyone you want to be because

Your dreams aren’t defined by

The color of your skin, no.

Yes, claim your heritage proudly, and

Remember those other things

Come from within.

#MishyWrites 🦋


I started last week talking about positive talk – how the way you talk to yourself affects your attitude, your actions. And quite honestly, by the end of the week, all of that had gone out the window for me.

All of my energy had been drained. I sought solitude despite the fact that exposing myself brought me joy and new opportunities and friends. Yet, a couple of weeks of this kind of lifestyle brought me to a place where I couldn’t really depend on anything to make me feel good.

I understood that “The joy of the Lord is my strength,” but believing it became harder as each hour passed. Everything began to shut down – physically, my body was exhausted. Mentally, my mind warred with thoughts of compromise and surrender to things I never thought I’d consider. Spiritually, I felt distant from where I’d been in January, but I knew that God was still with me. That His plan for me was just beginning that 2018 was still going to be my year. Emotionally – I’d taken a toll. Unexpected circumstances that ended as quickly as they began left me questioning my worth, wondering if all this hurt I was feeling was worth the things and people I was pursuing. Was it worth it for me to do all I had begun to do in order to make a process a reality; a dream come true?

People have always told me it wouldn’t be easy, and they were right. The warfare is real, and if I’m not focused on what I need to be focused on, I will suffer under the Enemy’s bark and bite.

“Realign my heart and help me keep the first things first.” — “Born Again,” Cory Asbury

#MishyWrites 🦋

“Dear Poetry…”

Last week, I attended a poetry event called “Poetry is LIT” hosted by the beautiful and talented poet Erika Roberts aka Velvet Poetry. One of the prompts she gave us was to write a letter to poetry. I wrote the first portion of this at the event, and decided to finish it up.

“Dear Poetry…”

Dear Poetry…
I am sorry.
I’ve always hated you out of misunderstanding, for I was always taught that you were nothing but
Stanzas and rhythms,
Lines and rhymes and
The only reason I ever gave you a try was because
He was a poet…
And I wanted to show him I loved him by
Learning to love you.
Who would’ve thought that he would leave and
You would stay.
And we’d build a stronger bond than I could ever imagine.

You healed me, Poetry.
And even as I waited for him to return you
Took a hold of my darkest moments and
Unfolded all the things I never dreamed I would become.
It seems you have always been a part of who I am and
All it took for me to discover that was
Giving you a chance.

So, I’m so sorry, dear Poetry, for ever doubting you.
Now using you to express myself is the least I can do.


Mishy 🦋


“To All the Singles on February 13th”

Tomorrow you will be tempted to compare yourself to those who
Have someone to hold.
You may smile in happiness for those who are showered with
Gifts and candy and flowers,
But on the inside, your heart is
Melting…like a forgotten piece of chocolate sitting out in the sun.
And you’ll try to be the “strong, independent one,” who doesn’t really care that
Another Valentine’s Day is here, but
You don’t have anyone, excuse me, that
“Special someone” to share it with.

Maybe you’re tempted into thinking that you’re
Unlovable, unlikable,
The only one alone, or
The only one who may receive gifts but
They’re not from your lover, but
A family member.

I want you to know that tomorrow is just like any other day.
That just like any other day, you have people who do love you and care about you.
That even though it hurts to be alone sometimes, you don’t let it stop you from
Being who you are and doing what you wanna do you
Don’t let it define you on any other day so
Why let it define you tomorrow?
I know single people get tired of hearing someone say to them
“Love yourself!” but it’s true:
Take the time, the money, the space to
Spoil yourself, love on yourself:
Eat that pizza, go to that movie,
Sit out under the stars with a glass of wine in hand and
Do a little “I love me” dance and
Through loving yourself, remember
The greatest fact of all –

God loves you.
Not just today but
Every single day.

Luvvy, you are created for love.
You were created with love.
Today and every day,
You are loved.

And in these moments when you’re ready to give up,
To throw in the towel and say,
“I’m tired of throwing myself out there only to be used up and hung out to dry to
Cry every single tear that’s left from my eyes
In those moments, luvvy,
Breathe in, breathe out.
Open your arms up then close them
Shut around your rib cage and
Breathe in and out again.
Squeeze tightly and remember:

Love is in you. Love is with you.
Love surrounds you.


“Remember Surrender”

Tread carefully, dear luvvy.

It may seem brave to jump off cliffs and

Into dark waters in which you believe you can

Save something or someone or

Even yourself

From pain, suffering, being alone,

Doubt, and all the like,

But you could endanger yourself unnecessarily or

Hinder a lesson from being learned

Instead of actually being a help.

Yes, it is thoughtful, and kind to care but

Sometimes all someone or something needs is your prayers because

You are not capable of saving. No.

Remember, you surrendered a long time ago so

Step back, and take a breath.

And just let God handle the rest.

#MishyWrites 🦋✨