A semi-religious, non-practicing Baptist preacher’s kid trying to figure shit out.

Hi. Jasmen (she/her), literally the first of my name because my mom wanted to be - unique?

Raised as a first generation born in the United States, Caribbean, oldest sibling, child/grandchild/niece of Baptist ministers, I feel like I’ve survived the oven they threw Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego into - and I’m owed compensation.

I didn’t utter a curse word until I was in middle school (and it was a shocking event). The first “secular” song I listened to was Mystikal’s “Danger”… accompanied by the video - just dove right into heathen. There were no sleepovers, no parties, no skipping school, no boyfriends, and prom was a heavily negotiated, very structured event.

And as much as I have learned to despise so much of the farce of religion I was forced to endure, “Blessed Assurance” and “Total Praise” still coarse through my bones and make me WEEP. Something about a Baptist good praise break will shake my soul EVERY SINGLE TIME. I cannot escape the power of what they taught me would heal the sick and inspire a deep joy that could never be stolen.

All of this would be enough to last a lifetime of meds, but I was also blessed with a (close) extended family with their own ignored traumas, anxieties, and undiagnosed mental health issues. I know evil because of them. I have found myself unworthy more than worthy, because of them. I’m keenly aware of my weight, because of them. I find open and proactive communication nauseating, carry anxiety like a purse, avoid the church, cannot dance wildly by myself for fun - because of them.

And at my big age, I know I cannot and will not blame my bad behavior on them forever. It’s now my monkey(s), so dammit this is my circus.

Simply put… I am in recovery. A gay divorcee now engaged to a Juracán, mother to a perfect pup, silently creative wanderer, “I ain’t soft” cryer, who has shamelessly spent a small fortune in therapy to figure this shit out.

This is a journey of uncovering and repair. So get in losers, I’m taking you to church.