Kimberly Michelle Jackson



What I strive to do here is to regain what was lost of myself. I wish to regain my beliefs and the spirit of relentless childhood ambition and fantasy. I wish to bring you adventure and share stories of travel, heartache, love, and great foods. I am a woman, mother, writer, listener, friend and lover. I am not your judge; monsters, dragons and beasts are welcome here.

Writer’s bio

The first story I'd ever written was about a young girl who is abandoned by her parents. They leave the young girl with a woven cloth doll. The doll begins to speak and together they go on adventures and travel the world. The cloth doll makes anything appear; food, shelter, love and in the end hope. I believe, that this story, written in 1994, when I was 12, was the precursor for my life to come. Now, I have a living doll, who speaks, and makes everything appear. She is magic. My own personal fairy. She is the epitome of hope, the very embodiment of love and she's all mine. Did you know that grown women dream too?
I have been writing since I began actively reading at the age of 6. From the time I discovered that stories had the power to inspire imagination and fantasy, I had a pencil in my hand. Stories were and are my free passport to other worlds. For years now I have aspired to publish a novel; any novel, just get one out there already! Much to my surprise, a non fiction novel on dating is what has first come out of me. A first in its kind since I am traditionally a fiction writer.
A few years back, I ran a website called The Real Single Ladies of Houston. We covered articles on up and coming people in Houston. We profiled men and women who were artists, singers, entertainers and entrepreneurs. After the birth of my child, I found myself no longer having the desire to write from a single woman's perspective because now there was someone calling me Mom and all around were the voices saying that I had no life beyond mothering. Slowly my ambitions died and the fire that was once in me slowly began to burn out. It wasn't until 5 years later that I could muster up the courage once again to be the woman I knew was sitting inside of me. The woman I had placed in a cage all out of a sense of responsible obligation. As a woman we are told that once we become mothers are lives are over and everything we wanted to do prior to being a mother is now just a fantasy. I refuse to live that life! What I do now is so that we can have the life of our dreams. I want her to look up to me, not down. If I have to strap my baby on my back and live in Europe, I will do that. Wouldn't a childhood filled with adventure be better than the status quo? She will always know her mother lived and she will live to tell the tale witnessed through young budding eyes, learning new languages, eating new foods, living a life less traveled. She will know that her mother was a real woman; unafraid of the beasts walking head high into the darkness.

I hope you didn't come here looking for straight lines. This isn't the place for you. These conversations are against everything you were taught. You will be offended by the language, by the content referenced here. I am anti society. Fuck Society. We don't come her to sugar coat the truth. We come as your real friends come for you. The real friends that remind you of the difference between yourself and a doormat. We, I, us come to give you strength.

"They fought fearlessly, trained every day through heartache, through pain, they were gladiators, ruthless femme-fatal, who could soften to their baby’s touch, nursed with black eyes and broken bones, they gave their children an unlikely tenderness. The fearsome lioness who licks the wounds of the cub before her own. We were all there for the same unspoken truth. We sacrificed our very existence every day with this bond of sisterhood. Through the bloodied smiles and raised arms of triumphant, I felt that I was in the right place, with the right people witnessing what women really are when the suits come off and are replaced with wife-beater tanks and bras and some nights no bras at all." Excerpt from the novel, "LADYLIKE", by Kimberly Michelle
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