Fail Your Way to Success

Once upon a time I took the Bar exam right after law school and failed. I took two years off, as I became the mother of an adorable little girl. The second time around, it took me a few months of early bar prep and a lot of family support to get back into study mode. This time I had a fresh set of eyes that had more real world experience then my post law school grad self. I was able to see the bar exam for what it was …a minimum competencey test and I told myself everyday the bar is a minimum competency test and I am more than minimally qualified to be an attorney. If you do not pass this time there is always a next time; life is not a race and there are far more worse things that can happen in life than failing the bar exam.

This time around I had less time to study and more responsibilities as I have a child. Therefore, I had to strategically approach this exam, be a sheep, and pick up points where I missed them on my first try. The key to my success was sitting in an envelope, my failed bar exam results. After spending several days analyzing my scores, I determined that I lost major points on the MBEs which I still remember being super confusing. All the answers seemed right!

I contacted classmates that had recently taken the exam during the pandemic to know what to expect and what resources to consider. I had done Barbri the first time around but it did not appeal to my personal studying style so I did not use it the second time around. I only listened to the lectures in the background while doing chores.

I had the decision of choosing a new bar prep program, private tutor, or both. This required some soul searching on how much hand holding do I feel I need. I knew I had the tools, time, and was familiar with the overall grueling process of bar pre; but, I just needed someone to point out my weaknesses. Similar to a personal trainer checking my form and my current work out and diet plan…I needed a professional that knew what they were doing and could help pin point my areas of improvement. Thus, I went with a private tutor this time around. As a repeat bar exam taker, I feel that since I had an idea of what I needed to improve on because I had my failed bar exam results in my arsenal. In the end the second time around, I failed my way to success…

On an upcoming post, I will list all the resources I used and tips that made a huge difference to my bar prep this time around.

Childhood Memories

Growing up there use to be a family tent hidden away under the dust in our garage. No one really took us out to family picnics or outings after my parents divorce, this little tent was a reminder of the good memories we had with our parents before our life changed. When ever I wanted to play pretend camping with my siblings I would unpack the countless pieces of the tent and try my luck at building it.

Sadly, my attempts would fail as I get lost in the countless yards of fabric and stupid poles that I had no idea where they go. Believe it or not, setting up a family size tent at 10 years old with no youtube video to guide you feels like rocket science. After struggling for countless hours I would just stuff everything back in the tent box and let go of the thought of ever playing in the tent. As years passed, the childhood memories of playing in the tent faded and the childhood memories of failed attempts to build the family tent were left ingrained in my mind.

I avoided messing with a tent my whole teenage years and early twenties because I’m no longer a child. 18 years later, I am faced with my old arch nemesis again as I try to assemble a little tent for my daughter. I struggle again with the mystery of a tent. Luckily now I’m much smarter than my 10 year old self and have Youtube handy. As I see the smiles and giggles of my little one playing in her tent my inner child heals.

The scars of growing up in a broken home and traumatic childhood begin to fade as I realize the woman I have become today and the new reality I have created for myself.

Today I am strong and capable of giving my child the childhood memories I once dreamed of…

Inspiration: Life. Not everyone is blessed to have great parents and a childhood filled of joy. However, we are all promised a tomorrow and an opportunity to make our present and future everything we dreamed of. Cherish what life has bestowed upon you and make peace with your past. Only when you unravel and release your past sorrows will you be able to fly freely into your future.

Dear Mommy

I see you going through piles of clothes that once looked amazing on you. I see you gazing at your stretch marks even though you act like they don’t bother you. I see you searching for the confidence you once had when you enter the gym. I see you fixated on the clock searching for some time for yourself. I see you looking in envy at your paint set, books, collection of trophys you won during what seems like an eternity ago. I see you struggling to find new hobbies and joys because what made you happy before just doesn’t feel the same anymore. 

Every day I see you battling an inner battle with yourself. You look at everyone else and they all seem the same but, you feel different. Why am I feeling like this? Why can’t I just bounce back to being my old self? What’s wrong with me? Am I doing this right? Is this really this hard or am I making it this hard! 

For 9 months you learned to be selfless. You made every decision putting someone you hadn’t even met first. When the precious moment came,  you risked your life and endured any pain that came your way to bring new life into the world. Each and every day you learned to be selfless, to be vulnerable, to give your all when your running on empty, to not complain, to be the source of love you never had…

In such a short span you went from being a woman to a Mother. This journey of Motherhood has not only changed you…it has transformed you. The next time you look at yourself in the mirror embrace the new woman with in you, for she is your greatest strength and ally.

Dear Mommy, you are amazing and I am proud of who you have become.

Forget Me Not

They say I’ve forgotten my identity, basic daily tasks, the day, time, where I am…

But at times it feels as if everyone has forgotten me…

As I remain paralyzed in the memories of my past, it feels as if time is slipping out of my hands.

Day and night, I stay wrapped in warm reveries of my past, in attempts to avoid getting frost bites from my cold reality.

Alone I stay, like a piece of old dusty furniture, dreading the day I get tossed out.

I was here with the budding of each flower and will stay alive in the garden of memories I have bestowed upon them.

From the first day of life, first steps, first words, walks to school, graduation, and marriage…I was there.

I May Forget but, Forget Me Not…

Inspiration: The Voice of Dementia

Scars

After several years, the tattoos have finally disappeared…leaving only the scars from the removal treatment behind, for me to reminisce and rejoice in a new beginning.

They ask, why have I changed? Why the sudden need to be so distant?

I tried and I tried but, with each visit to the tattoo shop, I was reminded of the piercing needles that I once felt on my innocent skin.  What was I thinking sacrificing my mind and soul through the constant trauma? The tattoos gave me so much judgement but, I still tried to forget the pain and focus on the importance of this right of passage.

Unfortunately, over time the ink had started to infect the blood running through my veins with it’s poison. My heart became weak. My body started to become unresponsive to any form of medical therapy. It was then, I realized that holding on to my past was becoming terminal for my future.

These symbols of my existence were so deep rooted into my flesh that they had infected my very core, preventing me to move forward and live my life freely.

After several years, the tattoos have finally disappeared…..leaving only the scars from the removal treatment behind, for me to reminisce and rejoice in a new beginning…

Hypnotized

Hypnotized by society, I remain aloof to my realities.

I look at the blue marks on my skin unable to process the new pain because it is a part of me now.

I weep in solitude comforted by stereotypes and social norms.

Decades have past, nothing has changed, but, I remain silent. 

Old age has now taken over body and embedded the abuse into my bones

Even though my body aches from sleeping on the kitchen floor, at least I have a  home.

I have a “home”…a picture perfect family…a place on the list of happily married couples…what else do I need?

Night after night I tuck myself in with a blanket of false reassurance that tomorrow will be a better day.

This is my life, it is my destiny. The way I am treated is normal. Men are just men.

I can not leave. This is my world. I would be lost if I left my “home”.

  What will people say if I leave?

Beaten and bruised,  I remain confused.

Hypnotized by society, I remain aloof to my realities.

Inspiration: The cycle of domestic violence and the importance of social acceptance.

Superheros

Heroes by circumstances, believers by nature, wrapped in a cape they dawn the skies.
Blessing to those who live to give, burden to those who live to take.
Fighting battles without honors, while others seek comfort in their sorrows.
Day by day integrity wakes them up each morning and drives them to pick up their capes. 
Through blood, sweat, and tears they remain strong and tread the streets of unknown without fear.
Every SuperHero does not have a good ending but, each leaves behind a legacy akin to the next generation of heroes to follow.

Believe

They say my time is trickling down, in sorrows my mother drowns, as I frown.
Drip by drip, strength pours from veins these devils now reign.
Slip and fall on these stumbling blocks as all hope in recovery comes crumbling down.
Breathe, I breathe, negativity I breathe, suffocating the hope that once kept me afloat.
Scream she screams, live your life she screams as tears roll down her cheeks.
Believe, believe, in God we must believe for faith will set us free.

Written: 9/26/2014

Endless Thoughts

In the darkness of the night faith finds hope.
Dream, don’t dwell, your time will come.
Smile and heal through the tears with cheer.
Your heart is pure, mind is clear, your time is near. 
With each thought a vision grows.
Grow, it grows, the seeds you sow. . .

Written: 6/7/2015

Ticking Time Bomb

Days and night I count the ticks of my clocks. Waiting and caring for all thoughts I have been pairing. At times racing in my mind or standing behind hurdles of Father Time, these thoughts remain lost in a frenzy of emotions. Dreaming and fearing all the feelings I have been perceiving, I remain lost in my world. Walking and moving, yet stopping and hearing all the plans these thoughts have been weaving. Ambitions become expeditions as I yearn to experience the moment these thoughts dissolve and become reality. Ticking and breathing my heart keeps beating for the moment of truth is nearing. As time runs out, the ticks stop…
Written: 2/25/16