The Shattered Pieces of Womanhood

I always felt jaded growing up female. I would often hear mixed messages from adults that were supposed to love, encourage, and teach me about care. Love manifested itself in short phrases like, “don’t cluck, cluck like a chicken.” “You’ll follow the footsteps of ‘her’ and never amount to anything.” “You’re a failure and a disgraceful child.” I grew up female thinking; perhaps I am unworthy. Maybe I am just shattered pieces that can’t be made whole. My future means nothing because I am nothing.

As a young girl, I learned early on how to devalue my being. A truth that penetrated and hunted me throughout my process into womanhood. Neglect was the ‘N’ word that no adult in my care circle was bold enough to confront. Instead, image took its place, and I was taught to lie without speaking words. I was taught to embrace my silence, masked in this unspoken concept of beauty. Externally I looked good, but internally my heart was devasted, shattered into a million broken pieces as if I was a million piece puzzle. As a young girl, I tried so hard to find the matching pieces but had such a hard time getting it right.

As a teenager, womanhood was known to me as a projection of harsh words. I no longer was living in silence. I became loud, obnoxious, with an extremely ‘off the cuff’ attitude. I cut people with my words. I hurt them with my eyes. I demolished them with my actions. After all, that is what hurt people do to other hurt people. I projected the ‘neglected child’ to others in hopes of healing a piece of me. This way of living, thinking, and acting taught me a lot of harsh life lessons. I used to think I was above certain situations. I would look at other young girls and say, “How did they get there? I’ll NEVER get to that point.” Never say never; that was the beginning of my ‘house fire‘ phase. My life as a teenager started with a spark, and by the time I was nineteen, I became engulfed in flames of pain. The pain of feeling like I was never enough. The rage of anger against my community at the time. The failure I felt within myself and the darkness that kept on sweeping me under; deeper into my ashes, as the house that I once thought would protect me came crashing down on top of me.

As a young adult, womanhood meant independence. I was determined to rise higher than my burnt house and my pain. I set goals for myself and worked tirelessly to achieve them. I found love and solace in dance, writing, and acting. Again, in the midst of my independence, I found myself lost in this patriotic duty to perform perfection to a society that once taught me I am nothing. My whirlwind of pain increased and the pieces of me that I did have a hold of were once again shattering before me.

As an adult, I surrendered it all to THE VINE, the creator of my soul. I just had enough of my darkness, and the inflictions I placed on others, the feeling of neglect that hunted me throughout my life; and the haunting lie that I wasn’t good enough to be made whole. I had to get to a low point before calling on MY VINE for help.

You see, womanhood has taught me two things. It showed me the importance of healing and wholeness. My surrender to THE VINE has elevated me to the woman I am today. At times, I still sometimes feel like I’m a bunch of scattered pieces. But, just today, I woke up and heard MY VINE’S voice so clearly. He whispered so softly the one phrase that birthed this story, which is my history into conception, “Scattered pieces are fragile pieces made whole.”


As a result, of HIS ultimate love, I am made whole and set free from the bondages that tried to beset me. Today, I define my womanhood as the process of becoming whole and speaking out loud my truths. I hope my authenticity can set other lost souls free from their house fires. I desire to guide them to the SOURCE of complete surrender and wholeness, for that was how I found my peace. After all, “Scattered pieces are fragile pieces made whole.”

I’m just speaking out loud in my process of becoming.

Sunday, October 29th, 2017

Signing Out,

Esther Lynn


Preserving the Foundation

How is my today preparing me for my tomorrow? A question that’s been plaguing my mind ever since I turned 25 years old. It’s no different at age 29. I live in a world where every thing is always rushed, everything is right now, fast paced living is the way of life, there is no process and it’s much easier to avoid the journey. It’s easier to waste endless amounts of energy complaining, rather than searching for a solution. Doing the wrong thing is much more gratifying than the right thing. Planning and preparing is far too daunting–. Long  deep sigh….the list goes on and on…

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At times weighing myself down from the unmet pressures stirring from within.

This week I was confronted with a wise saying from the book of Proverbs. “Do your planning and prepare your fields before building your house.” (Proverbs 24:27) As I meditated on this scripture, I asked myself three questions.

  1. What am I planning?
  2. What have I prepared?
  3. Is my house honestly ready to be built?

In the past, I’ve made countless mistakes in equating plans and preparations with careers, finances and material positions. Not to say those things aren’t important, they most certainly are, but they are not the pillars of a home, nor a solid foundation that keeps it in place. There are plenty of people with gorgeous homes, amazing careers and endless material possessions who are still dissatisfied with life. As I’m getting older, my perspective on planning and preparation has changed. For me, building consistent solid relationships,  investing time, energy and resources in causes that matter, walking in alignment with my life’s mission and purpose, which in turn produces positive impactful outcomes is what really matters.

When I thought about the questions, what am I planning and what have I prepared, I had to really think deeply about my process, journey, impact and progress. I had to separate things I’ve done (actions) with the values of my heart (character-authentic self). I thought about the many children I encounter on a daily basis at work and outside of the classroom. The many unknown names I interact with on the streets, walking to and from set destinations. I thought about the many things that give me a great sense of joy and the things that bring me deep sorrows. My plans consist of the deep treasures that were given to me by my creator, value systems that affect the world in a greater sense beyond just me. They are plans that my great ancestors must have started from long ago. Plans that have been hidden in the deep soils of my earth; plans rooted in the fields of preparation awaiting its season to be harvested and  used.

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plans hidden among the roots.

The question, what have I prepared should be changed to what am I preparing. The preparation is an on-going  process. It has its different stages but its never-ending.  If not careful, preparations can become stagnant due to distractions and vainglory. It’s in my nature to long for acknowledgment and praise from others. But, if I’m truly honest with myself, words of affirmation from others do nothing for the soul, if  the heart is discontent with life. It’s one thing to want more but, it’s another to never see the good  and the growth along the way.

 A house can only be built on a solid foundation. My foundation will always be found within my heart.

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It’s just a matter of appreciating its greatness, deepness and vastness in my life. When  I start looking else where to validate my worth, a piece of my structure becomes undone. I’m learning how to stay true and preserve the  heritage (my foundation) that’s been established from the beginning.


I’m just Speaking Out Loud in my Process of Becoming…


Signing Out,

Wednesday, November 2nd, 2016

Willynn Sanon Thompson

Writer’s Name: Esther Lynn


A field can bare much fruit, but only the farmer knows the true condition of the soil.




Defining Freedom

“Every great dream begins with a dreamer. Always remember, you have within you the strength, the patience, and the passion to reach for the stars to change the world.” -Harriet Tubman-

Next week marks my fifth month in Korea. This past weekend, I reflected on my life in the United States and my present season in the land of the morning calm. I can’t help but have a heart of gratitude. As a little girl, I use to always dream about my life as an adult. I always knew I wanted a husband that would love me unconditionally. God has blessed me with a man that reflects his imprint, internally and externally. I always desired an impactful life, God is currently taking me on a journey that will lead to  an amazing, powerful story.

As a young girl, I was always inspired by Harriet Tubman. It was in the third grade when I learned about her for the first time. I was captivated by her courage, perseverance and serving spirit. She was an ordinary woman that left her mark on MY HISTORY. I always thought of her as influential. History defines her as a woman who was never afraid of her process and the journey it took to take back what was rightfully hers from the beginning, her freedom.

At a young age, I was intrigued by this woman of faith. You see, Harriet Tubman never defined freedom as self gratification, ignorance or emotional rage. Her actions in conducting the Underground Railroad were never selfish. If it was she never would’ve freed thousands upon thousands of people-a nation. AND my ancestors stories would never have reached me in this age, day and season.

As an adult, freedom is being redefined by media outlets by numbing our senses. News coverage metastasizes racism where it is now a thing rather than a problem that needs to be confronted. We, including myself, are quick to play the blaming game. As grieving families are dealing with their loss, the media further assassinates the character of the one that’s being mourned. Wow!-If Harriet Tubman was a live, what would she say to this broken generation, this unjust system?

Perhaps she would say, “find freedom, child. Speak the truths that are rooted, embedded deep within you. Fall away from the deadly spirit of “I” and rise higher than the circumstances that somehow tries to shape you.” You see, the issue of black and white is NOT the only factor fueling the race wars happening in America, it’s deeper than that. Black and white are labels, categories, stereotypes used to define a people lost in their own coded language. Black versus white; immigrant versus native, gay versus straight- disproportionate messages that are bathed in too general and ignorant statements. I choose to rise higher and define freedom as one people under God, serving together to make our world better.

There will come a day when I, too, become an ancestor. I often wonder, what will my descendants say about me? They will look back in history in search of my words, actions and deeds. I have to ask myself, honestly  will I be proud of what history writes about my life? An old friend from long ago said to me, people are like tea bags, you want to see how strong they are, watch how their character develops when dipped in hot water.” In other words, the path to freedom can either build a person up or destroy them completely. It’s a process filled with trials that requires diligence, understanding and great endurance. It’s the molding of a remarkable leader, a Moses to a community of people. A sound voice in the midst of chaos. I define freedom by my dreams, aspirations, challenges and setbacks. It’s my joys, successes  and conquering moments. We all have the ability to define our own freedom I just pray we all take the necessary time to define it wisely.

I’m just Speaking Out Loud in my process of becoming…

Signing Out,

Monday, July 11th, 2016

Esther Lynn