Victoria is my Name

I was born Victoria Lee Stewart in January
In a small retirement community a full week into the new year
Yet I was the New Years baby

I once asked my mother who I was named for
A queen perhaps, or a far away city?
"No" she said, "I just thought the name is beautiful- you are beautiful"

But she didn't call me that beautiful name, instead she called me Vickie
She spelled it in a different way then most
with the "ie" on the end instead of a "y"
Nobody ever got it right

It rhymed with all manner of unpleasant names
Which I suffered throughout elementary school

Vickie, Dickie, Sicky, lickie, Mickie, picky... icky

Finally I had the chance to re-brand myself
A move to a new state when I was nearly 12
Now I was Tori...
No longer gangly, and awkward, with buck teeth, and stick out ears
I was tan and tall and pretty and I was "The girl from California"

And Tori didn't rhyme with anything gross

The move was no good for a girl with no self-esteem however, instead it proved to be a disaster that set me on a path of self loathing and self destruction

Suddenly attractive to boys and with out compass or sanctuary
I became victim to the whim and desires of others
Mississippi holds no fond memories for me
I cringe at the thought of meeting someone who knew me then

Leaving Mississippi behind did not remove its shadow from my heart
The shadow cold and lonely followed me thru Arkansas, Okinawa, New York, Connecticut and back to Arkansas again and Wisconsin and Florida and Arkansas again, and again to Arkansas

The dark times were dismal with this shadow overhead, no light could penetrate. Anguished nights spent screaming into the dark,
Cicadas roar covered the sound with no purchase found in those days

Years passed until I finally made another move
To a new place inside myself.
I decided to grow into me
I know it sounds too simple but that was just what I did
I left behind the old shadow, the shame and solitude
I changed from the inside out, my food, my outlook
I nourished myself in ways that have nothing to do with my address

I am Victoria now and forever
I am beautiful and free

College Scholarship Essay 2015

It has taken me 45 years of living to finally figure out who I am. As a troubled teenager I had no dreams other than to leave my mother’s home. Teenage pregnancy and marriage at 17 achieved that goal. At that point all my own dreams had to take a back seat to motherhood, and surviving the situations brought on by my choices. Years of domestic abuse and self-abuse coupled with a car accident in 1995 have taken their toll on my body. Qualifying for disability in 2009 was the beginning of getting my life on track. Finally having a stable income and home allowed me the time I needed to get a handle on my health and my dreams.

As a mother of four girls and a boy with special needs, life has been especially difficult in my particular socio-economic status. As a thrice divorced mother, my choices have further complicated my situation. When I first attempted to return to school in 1999, colored with these choices and hampered by these circumstances I still did not know who I was as an individual. I majored in accounting because working in taxes was the first thing to which I had applied myself of any importance outside my family and I seemed to excel in my client relationships. Little did I know at the time that what I excelled in was not the love of numbers; but of helping people. During my time at Pulaski Technical College I excelled academically, and came to terms with myself as a writer for the first time.  My Professor; recognizing my talent, tried, unsuccessfully to get me to change my major to creative writing. But I was still going through so much abuse from my current husband at home, I felt that I needed to simply get training to make an income and that my personal dreams were not important. I didn’t have the time to waste on myself. I graduated with honors, Phi Theta Kappa but after graduation, my life finally spiraled completely out of control.

As my health deteriorated, and my family life nose-dived, I survived a complete mental breakdown and subsequent homelessness. I struggled to keep my children and lost half the battle. My dedication to God and my children were the only things I had to hang onto. When I went on Social Security and Section 8 my life finally began to level out and as the years progressed and my children grew I still followed their dreams, not mine. I spent a couple years as an autism advocate and was elected Vice President of the Arkansas chapter of the National Autism Association. My daughter became a singer-songwriter and as her co-songwriter and manager I finally began to dream dreams of my own. I discovered a talent for songwriting and music management and marketing that I had no idea about. When she left our partnership it devastated me to lose my daughter and best-friend but I found that the loss of the music was just as devastating. 

I have since written a book of poems based on my life as a survivor of domestic abuse, I have performed my poetry in front of audiences in Hot Springs with great success. I have also built a reputation in this town and a strong network of friends and colleagues as a music promoter, and I volunteer my time with several music festivals and galleries. I have been told that my help with website development, and social media marketing is unique and invaluable.  I want to continue to dream, to make my dreams come true and others as well. I plan to study the arts and add this to my prior business education to help other artists to realize their dreams. I envision one day opening an artist co-op here in Hot Springs to promote the arts and dreams among young and old alike.  The arts have opened up my world to possibilities I never imagined and I hope that many other people can be inspired as I have.

After 45 years I finally know who I am. I am a woman, a mother, a special needs-parent, an advocate, an activist, a dreamer, a poet, a song-writer, a social media coach, an artist and I am a survivor. 

Shadow War by Victoria Meyers (24 of 30)

I've spent the morning reading about another family, and another and yet another; torn to shreds by this Orwellian governmental control that seems to seek to claim all children as its own.
Citizens.
It's not just one town, one state, or one country. The stories pour in from all over the world. A child with difficult symptoms, constipation, diarrhea, skin rashes, perceived behavioral issues and mental illness.
The overall consensus in the mainstream says drug the child till they drool. Keep them in a diaper till they die at 30 years old from the years of neglect and abuse they will experience once they've had the permanent insertion of the government teat.
We have not come as far as you might think from the days when we housed our brain damaged "psychopaths" in neck irons in straw strewn sanatorium hallways and cages.
When you hear about the "government teat"*  I have always pictured the masses of doctors, hospitals, social workers, lawyers, school and prisons who unwittingly conspire to keep that money milk flowing as little piglets attached to the fat government hog. But no- I realized today I didn't get it quite right. They are even smarter then that! What they really do is install that teat into your child. Like little energizer batteries from the Matrix, so each and every one becomes their own little government hog. Satellite hogs.
They've really got it all figured out but all the while- children, all over the world are dying. Some quick, some slow. Doesn't matter though, we don't yet have a population shortage so there's always a new one to take the place of that lost teat.
And how? What is the method? Targeting of families who try to disengage. As long as you comply they leave you in your little bubble where you actually believe you are the one in control. Your choices. Your democratic voice.
But let not a demon take notice of you, that he will terrorize you all of your days. "If you can, do not let them notice you, or your life will be filled with regret. They stalk those who prey upon them, therefore, hide your good works. Only those who are quiet and modest will avoid their attention altogether." **
How is it everywhere? All over the globe? It seems it should be stopped at borders. Don't the borders mean anything anymore? In a world where only six conglomerates control all media it's really not a huge leap to consider that governments not really as sovereign as we would like to believe.
Tread lightly mother warriors.
We are left in shadows still.


   *(from "The Fight", Parks and Recreation (TV), Season 3 Episode 13 (2011))
**(Nicholas Kazan- Fallen 1998)

Posted by Victoria Meyers on Friday, April 24, 2015

Sick and Tired by Victoria meyers (20 of 30)

Sick of the argument and
Sick of the crime
Tired of the abuse and
Tired of the grime

There seems to be no way
To escape this world of pain
Not until the end of days
It's here yet slow to wane

There's a pain crawling under my skin
There's an ache in my joints
It's bearable when I can smile
But when I can't its a
Writhing kind of  misery

Sick and Tired, Sick and Tired
Sick
and Tired

You should Write a Book by Victoria meyers (17 of 30)

You should write a book
I've heard that all my life
Start telling people how many
Places I've lived
How many stupid things I've done
All the different ways I should
Already be dead

Tell them about three abusive husbands
Raising five kids
Going back to school at 29
With five kids at home and a psycho husband
While homeschooling
And running a busy tax office

Talk about how 9/11 made me
Quit school to stay home with my kids
Describe unschooling
Cooking gluten free for picky eaters
All the many weird ways I live my life

Why would anyone want to read
About all that crap?