Embracing Who I Am

Who am I?

What am I?

Why am I here?

When will I wake up?

Where am I meant to be?

Where am I supposed to go?

These are the questions that I asked over and over again before I experienced my awakening. I could feel everything within me and around me all at once. My generalized anxiety disorder turned into frequent, full blown anxiety attacks. I craved silence and inner peace. So, I went inward, and began to explore what was going on. In my explorations, what I needed found its way to me.

There were books, websites, podcasts, and communities of people set in my path to help me understand what was happening in me. These were things at the time I couldn’t tell my family or friends about. I feared their judgments and that they would think I was crazy.

I have always felt things deeply since I could remember. I could feel when people were sad, hurt, angry, indifferent, dangerous even. But there was no one around me who was like me, at least they did not verbalize it. If I would have had the awareness I have now when I was younger, I would have been able to tell if someone was like me.

As I grew older, I still kept this hidden. I put on a mask of unknowingness to fit in with my peer group. That age can be very unforgiving anyway, why add my true self into the mix was my thinking. Around the time I turned 16, I was invited to attend a church, and I became a member. In this church is where I was taught that my gift was not of God. I was a sinner and I needed to repent and be baptized and turn away from my gift yet again. I thought I would be in a place where I felt it would be safe to find answers, but instead be coerced to live and be a certain way. I did not fit into the nice little box they had waiting for me. I continued going, held under my own fear of being lost and in need of saving because of my gift.   But upon my return from my first semester at Bible college, I never went back, to the college nor to the church. I tried to return after a year, but that was short lived. I knew I did not belong there and I was not accepted there.

This is where and when I began my first true soul journey. I still did not have a name or an understanding of my gift. I just knew I could feel what people were feeling. I was 25 at this point in my story. I read so many books. I felt an expansion in my being. I felt empowered. I felt alive. It was the first time I felt great about myself. I held my head high, my heart open, and my spirit soared. As I began my career path, that light I had in me continued to dim over time. I focused so much on what I was I felt I “should be” doing that I stopped my journey of exploration, discovery, and ascension. It would take another 15 years for a second awakening. And it took me almost losing my life to bring me back.

It would also take another series of mistakes, heartbreak, and loss to come fully back to my journey. My anxiety episodes returned. I would pace the floors at 2 am.  I already had the head and heart knowledge by this time, and I needed to go inward once more, but on a deep level. A soul-deep level.

I needed to feel in order to heal. But not with the conventions of western medicine. It did not feel right to go the quick fix route for me and take whatever they said was good for me. I looked into alternative ways, and the first thing I came across was deep breathing exercises. I learned to listen to myself and could feel when anxiety was coming on. I got in a quiet, comfortable place and breathed my way through it. It took a few tries, several actually, to begin to quiet my mind and focus on my breath.

Through my exploration and journey of healing and wellness, I learned about intuitives, hsp’s (highly sensitive people), and empaths. What I read about empaths resonated so deeply. I cried. I found I was not alone. I slowly began to embrace my gift. I connected with other empaths. My understanding and awareness grew. I began to allow myself to feel and connect with others.

I also felt a deeper connection to nature. Water has always been a place for me to just go and be. And trees. I love trees. I touch them and I can feel the life surge through them. I can feel that connection. And I am open to feel what is going on in me and in others. Without fear, without judgement. I have learned to set boundaries and also practice the sacred art of release. Whatever is toxic to me and around me, I create space or fully release that toxicity from me.

I am more open to love others. I used to hide in the shadows away from people. Once I understood and embraced this part of me, all that fear dissolved. I know I am a part of a soul family of empaths, hsp’s, and intuitives.

I am not alone.

I embrace who I am.

I embrace others.

I know why I am here.

I am meant to feel.

I am meant to heal.

I am an empath.



Conversations With The Inner Voice

This is a newer project I’ve been working on in “down times” (plurality to the meaning…interpret it as you wish). I’m not sure what will come of it or where it will go, it is just me writing out some of these conversations. I welcome your feedback.

❤ Bonnie

I’m still here.

Yes, I know.

Then why don’t you listen to me?

I’m busy. Can we do this later?

You’re in denial.

No, I’m not.

Ok, you are denying yourself then.

I’m working on my life, trying to make it better.

But while you are working so hard, you aren’t taking care of you.

I will take the time I need when I make it. Until then, let me do what I need to do.

You are risking everything. You will lose who you are in this process.

Well, maybe I’m actually finding myself. Have you considered that?

Yes. But trying to find yourself and where you fit in doesn’t mean you have to round off your edges. If you embrace who you are, ALL of who you are, the place where you belong will find you. Why silence or modify your voice just to be a nameless face in the crowd? You are more than just being one of many. Get out of the masses and that is where you will find your path.

You Are Unique.

You Are Loved.

You Were Created To Be Yourself.

Just Be That.

You Are Enough.

The Battle of the Mind

Today, the two sides of my brain are in conflict with each other. What is normally a harmonious and well balanced relationship is stuck in the very center of who is going to gain control. I feel a strong pull from the creative side, but my structured side is telling me I should get on that to do list for today and forget about the creativity that my soul is longing for.

So, maybe it’s more a battle of soul vs mind. And the only thing I can do is write about it to try and get it out of my system. Or try to make sense of it and find a way out.

I am tempted to throw in the towel and just go dip my feet in the lake, but I know it will be full of people today, since it is the first long weekend of the summer. But then, maybe that is more of a reason to go. To be surrounded by people who are having a good time with their family and friends and observe and witness the joy of human connection. (Can you tell I’m more of a lone wolf?)

And maybe because of what day it is, I’m feeling more open and emotional when I see videos and photos of families who have a fallen soldier they are missing.

So, I think is going to be one of those days where I hang up any expectations and plans I have for myself, and just go with the flow.

❤ Bonnie

The Setting Sun

I felt it was fitting, in the last few days of this blog, to change it up a bit and have it as a reflection of its final time here. And it is also how I am feeling about this transition. Who knew I would grow to love my modest carved out space in the blogosphere (I think that’s a word…) here that it feels like I am losing a long time friend.

I began on here about three years ago with my Lovely Strength blog, then with my sister’s jewelry blog, and ultimately to this one. And this is the last standing blog on here. I have such a depth of emotion right now, and it is heavy. But not with sorrow.

I feel gratitude. I feel connected. I feel grounded. These are my roots here, and this next stage of growth is happening regardless of my wants, my wishes, or my thoughts. I can only express gratitude and love to my blog family here. If you decide to follow the blog on the new website, it will have a new look and feel to it, but I want to assure you it is still me. I am now and always will be Bonnie.

So, before I get too deep within my feelings, I am going to be spending as much time here as I can. It will just be my words going forward and just that image of the setting sun. Because it is powerful. It is the slow fade into the night. And it is representative of my heart right now.

I send love and appreciation your way. I have a dedicated group of readers here, and trust and believe I will still be following you. I set it up to receive email notifications for all your new posts. I won’t miss a thing, except that I won’t be here. In this space, in this time, in this way.

❤ Bonnie

Dear Reader, Dear Writer #1


Dear Reader... (2)


Today’s questions come from one of my favorite bloggers, writers, and a beautiful human being. She has been a helpful and devoted reader, and to answer her questions is special for me. Thank you, Lisa, for your great questions that I thoroughly enjoyed answering!

Do you write according to a “formula”, as in, writing from an outline, a summary, a story board? by Lisa

Thank you for your question, Lisa! I don’t have a set formula to write, at least not initially. As an idea for a story line or character comes to me, I write it down and the do a free write on it. Once I have the basic premise, I just write and let the story or character evolve on their own. If the story turns into something on the lines of a novel, I will use an outline and storyboard just to keep the elements in a chronological order. This is when the story line is bigger than my mind can handle, and I need visual and documented notes to keep it cohesive and without gaps in the story line. I love storyboards, and I use a tip I learned from a fellow blogger to use an entire wall and different color post it notes. To see that in action on a blank wall is a beautiful thing…as long as a gust of wind doesn’t come by!


Do you ever just “free write”? If so, do you consider that publishable material, or rather “research” that might later be incorporated into other works? by Lisa 

This is a multi layered question that deserves just as much in the answer! I free write most often; then I will let it sit for a while. I call this “raw writing”, and I do sometimes put them on my blog. They have not been edited or worked on other than the occasional typo (usually transposed letters in my case). If I feel like I want to write it further or make it into a publishable work, I will outline, edit, and tweak it until I feel it is ready to present itself to a discriminatory and dedicated audience. I love to present my raw writings and my polished writings, it just depends on the audience. (I personally feel more attached to my raw writings, and if I share those, it is with an audience who knows me, mostly through my blog. They are my heart and soul <3)

I do also write for research purposes, and I go into that type of writing with intention and focus. It is more of a discipline for me, and it is not a natural occurrence most often. I do enjoy it, because I love to learn new things. I have notebooks, binders, and word documents full of research notes as well as creative writing. Both sides match the almost even balance of my creative/intellectual leaning. (I am 60/40 on this.)

Thank you for this question. I loved answering it, Lisa!



You write both incredible fiction and poetry! Do you have a preference? And do you feel they both come from the same place creatively? by Lisa

Thank you! I don’t have a preference between fiction and poetry. They are both sides of me that I express, and are largely mood based. I turn to poetry when I am deep in thought or if something is troubling me. Or if I am in nature and I am inspired to write. Most of my nature poems have a water theme, but I am also fond of trees, particularly willow trees.

For fiction, I could be having a conversation or reading a book, and a little scene will come to mind. I write it right away as it is fresh in my mind. I tend to write fantasy or mystery, but I am open to everything, and it reflects in my body of work.

Fiction takes me away on a whirlwind trip to another world that is created in my mind, but poetry takes me inward and urges me to reflect what is going on in me or around me. You could say one is mind and imagination based, and the other is heart and reflective based. I love how creativity carries out on so many levels, and I love to see how writers express theirs.


If you have some questions for me, my inbox is always open. You can send them to me at bjr_writings@outlook.com. I look forward to hearing from you!

❤ Bonnie

On The Writer’s Mind

On The Writer's Mind

On The Writer’s Mind Post #1

Well, here we are…the second in the new blog series! For those of you who have followed me for a while now, this might not be new to you…I am prone to speak my mind “off the cuff”. This is my attempt and goal to reign that in and make it more structured. 

In all my thoughts and questions, here I sit with a blank page and a blinking cursor. And nothing is coming to me. That, in itself, is an entire post, but since I know you know all about that as a writer, I can skip that.

So, we are back to square one. Should I mention the weather here in Madison, WI? (Partly sunny, in the 70s, the rest of the week will be consistent rain in case you were curious). Or how I sought out inspiration by making the beloved family jacket potato? (if you are intrigued…you can see them here).

Let’s look forward to next week’s blog series…Dear Reader, Dear Writer. I have mentioned it in a couple previous posts, and it’s a blog post where readers and writers can message me questions about what I write, how I write, and anything within the realms of writing, about me as a writer , poet, and or as a humanitarian or any other creative hat I wear. You can send them to me at bjr_writings@outlook.com. 

I also want to extend an invitation to the creatives who have a Facebook page for their writings, art, etc. On my Facebook poetry page, I daily feature a new artist and have them tell us a little bit about their art, their passion, their why, and have a link back to their Facebook page. If you would like to be involved or just stop by to see the other featured artists, I am sending out a warm invitation. You can find the post here to add your page to the list or just visit the page here.

Hope to see you or talk to you at one of the above options.

❤ Bonnie


Lady J Chapter 2, Scene 5

Our precious Lady J has returned. If you would like to read her saga to date, head over to Lady J Chronicles.

A bit of background on this scene and scenes to come. As I mentioned in previous posts, Lady J will face more trauma and life changing events on the road to Paris. This scene is the start of that and, as a result, I want to add this this trigger warning (which I will do for all scenes to come that may have one also):

***This next scene contains a trigger warning. If you are sensitive to violence and/or domestic abuse, please do not read this scene. It is part of the story line, and it could be disturbing. If you would like a synopsis of the scene, please email me at bjr_writings@outlook.com. I will be more than happy to send you one.***

I am sensitive to some triggers, and I am sensitive to the fact that others are as well. With that being said, here is today’s scene:


Lady J Chapter 2, Scene 5

“Come on, friend.” The man pulled Frederick to the empty store room and dropped him on the floor.

Frederick moaned and mumbled something incoherent. The man rolled him behind the barrels and locked him inside. He threw the key to the barkeep and told him to not let him out until the next morning.

“Phillipe, we talked about this. I will not be a part of your ill deeds anymore. Get him out of here.” The barkeep said.

The man named Phillipe rushed the counter and had him by the neck. “You still owe me, and you will keep him locked up.” He released him as he threw him against the back bar.
The next part of his mission needs finesse. And finesse was not one of his specialties. The occupants in the rooms above the bar only numbered a few, so he didn’t have to worry about that. He climbed the stairs and stopped in front of their door. With his hand on the doorknob, he pushed forward with one firm motion and broke his way in.

The room was quiet. The ladies stayed asleep as he made his way around to the bed. He knew his victim, even in the dark. When you spend time in intimacy for so long, you get to know their breathing patterns and other intricacies. He ran a finger down her hair and kissed her. Choking her was easy. The small, delicate neck he had caressed many times before now crushed under the squeeze of his hand. Her eyes opened wide, and she went to scream but his mouth pressed firmly on hers prevented that.

Her arms flailed, hitting her bed-mate. She woke up and asked what was happening. There was no answer, so she rolled over and saw the dark figure hovering over her. The killer struck her in the face, knocking her out of the bed. She rushed to get up, but he was over her before she could run. He grabbed her by the neck and lifted her in the air. She could see the moonlight on his yellowed teeth before he threw her across the room. She passed out, and he went back to work.


Her head pounded. The ringing in her ears made it difficult to get her bearings. She felt warm water rushing down her face. Did someone come to help? She stumbled on the way up and her head swam.

The door was left open, and she could hear voices in the hall. Two men came in and sat her in the chair. Muffled voices, then more people arrived. The only face she recognized was the doctor from earlier that day. He brought her to a different room and looked her over.

“Can you hear me?” he looked in her eyes and checked her pulse.

She nodded. He brought her some water and something for the pain. After she was settled and safe, he went back to the other room.

“What happened here?” he asked the gendarme who arrived while he was attending to the survivor.

“She was strangled. Crushed neck from the looks of it. We will know more once we investigate further. She couldn’t be more than 24 years old. Such a beautiful young lady. How is the Lady?” he asked.

“She will live, that is all I can tell you right now. I have her resting in the other room, you can talk to her after she wakes up.” The doctor left the room and watched over Lady J.


Doctor’s Journal May 5, 1788

The patient is resting now. She had bruises and scrapes on her head and neck, but she will recover. As for her emotional state, I will assess it when she wakes. Her young traveling companion was killed, witnesses say they heard loud noises and when they came to see what was happening, a large man rushed passed them and ran out.

Earlier in the day, I had both ladies in my office. A young man who was there being looked at also recognized her and became distraught. It is more than a coincidence the young lady is now dead. My concern now is tending to Lady J.

I did a preliminary exam on the deceased, and like the gendarme said, her neck was crushed. She is to be transported to my office later for a final examination. Personal note: I have suspicions about a few people in town, but I will keep that to myself for now.

(c) 2015 Bonnie Jean Roberts All Rights Reserved