Mute Again

It’s been a good writing day, I believe I’ve spoken about my Wattpad account before where I have three published works, one super short story Vishal and two poetry based works Tales of An Introverted Expat and The Silence Inside Me.

I updated the cover of The Silence Inside Me and added a new poem.

Cover art by Melanie Wasser on Unsplash

The title of the poem is Mute Again and I’ll share it here with you.

Mute Again

I was doing good, I was talking to the world, my words were finally being heard and I could express my every thought, and then…

Then I moved.

To another country where they didn’t speak my language and I didn’t speak theirs.

I was back at square one.

I studied every day, I watched all the movies, all the videos, I listened to music, I read so many stories.

And yet…

Here I am.

Mute again.

Another group of people who don’t understand.
Another group of people who label me, unfriendly, snobby, shy.

I want to scream, I’m not shy, I’m not unfriendly, I’m not a snob.

But once again.

My words fail me, they stay lodged in the back of my throat, they abandon me when I need them the most.

I just want to be free.

Free to speak, free to show my emotions, free to be me.

But here I am again.

Locked in my own mind.

Here I am looking for those who know, those who understands, those who feel as I do, those silent people with so much to say.

My people.

Hope you enjoyed it and if you’re interested in reading more you can visit my profile LLDove.

My Truths

This is going to be a heavy piece, it will involve speech about molestation, if that’s one of your triggers I’d suggest skipping this post, with that said I’m going to talk about something that I’ve talked a little about before but never in my blog. I want to change that, I want to speak my truth so others can understand certain aspects of my life and how I’ve processed it.

So, here we go…

This is a memory that is clear as day in my head even though it happened over twenty years ago.

Imagine if you will, this thin, small child, five almost six years old, quiet, she doesn’t say a thing. Expressionless the whole day. This vulnerable innocent child was me.

It was a new school, new people, new everything, I was in first grade and still mute even though they said children are only shy at first. The class was about twenty students maybe more maybe less, the size didn’t important, the children aren’t either, except for two. A boy and a girl.

I had no interactions with these two, never sat near them, never played with them, but these two affected me in a way nothing else has ever done.

It was not a normal day, we were not in class, no, we were in the school’s cafeteria. There was an event going on but I can’t remember what it was about, doesn’t matter, I was sitting at a table far away from everyone except for the boy E and the girl K. I can’t remember the names of the other students but I remember these two, I don’t know how I feel about their names, a curious thing, I don’t hate it but I won’t speak it. Ever.

I don’t know why but K decided to notice me that day, maybe it’s because we were so far apart from everyone else but she was sitting right next to me.

It’s going to get a bit graphic and I apologise but she stuck her hand under my skirt and fondled me, she pulled her hand out and said “smell yourself”. I had never had the inappropriate touch talk, no, that came later, so, as you can no don’t tell I was confused and didn’t know what to do. The boy E never touched me but he did not tell her to stop either, instead what he did was laugh and I didn’t understand that either.

I never told anyone about what happened, not my best friend, not my parents, I think I wanted to forget it ever happened. I buried it so far that I just never thought about it. That is until I was in my early 20s. I was talking to someone about rape and molestation and it was like opening a door. I remembered everything all at once.

It explained why I had an aversion to being friends with girls, why I never felt comfortable around them, why I felt different to my peers.

I talked about being The Useless Sibling but now I knew why. I up to this day have trouble accepting hugs and being touched, I still feel a little uncomfortable around women and I honestly don’t feel attraction. I honestly thought I was asexual because I’ve had people I thought were attractive I’ve never envisioned anything other than being friends, I had one or two I’ve called boyfriend but in truth it was just in name. I have never wanted to be physical with any of them.

The day I met my husband was like being awoken, it’s corny as hell but I often wondered what it would feel like just to be held. We lived in different countries then so there was no way to find out. The day he asked to visit, I swear I almost fainted, I asked my parents and they were fine. Yes, I still lived at home so when my husband came to visit he met all my family at once.

That first day was full of nerves, this guy I’d spent two years chatting to was finally here, the first time in my life I felt like a woman and I wanted to explore.

Demisexual, you don’t feel attraction until you’ve formed a deep connection, I now had an answer for my lack of interest in guys other than being friends.

On the subject of friends, although I’m still a little uncomfortable, I now have a few women I call friend.

I won’t allow a girl who was most probably being molested herself to dictate who I can and can’t be friends with.

Oh, if you’re not following the Facebook page, I had mentioned that I would do a special post for Father’s day so be on the lookout for that.


Hey! Welcome back!

Today I’m going to talk about being in confinement after giving birth. While I was in the hospital Naveen was on break from school and Marvin was home from work so I didn’t have to worry about who would watch him.

When I got out of the hospital it was time for Naveen to go back to school but he had a cold so he went one day and was sent home the next and stayed home on Friday. We thought he’ll be fine to go on Monday but then the schools were closed and Naveen never got to go back to school.

We could still go out at that point so we would go for walks which was important for me since I had to walk for my recovery from the C-section. It was good to be outside feeling the cool air and not being cooped inside the house or stuck in there hospital. I stayed there for a while week!

Everything was ok and then we went into confinement, stay home unless you absolutely need to go out, have your attestation of you will be fined, we stayed inside. Naveen didn’t understand why he wasn’t going to school and why we couldn’t go to the park or see his grandparents.

I tried to explain to him in a way he would understand and I think he got it.

My husband is still working during the pandemic so it’s just me, Naveen, and Oyanie. Due to Oyanie waking up every two hours at night to eat we usually stay in bed until afternoon. I try to get a little extra sleep but I’m still so very tired when we get up to go downstairs. Sometimes Naveen comes into the room and lay in the bed with Oyanie and me but he’s mostly up early and downstairs. I try to make sure that he has something to eat and occupy himself with.

While I’m taking care of the baby I sometimes wonder if I’m neglecting Naveen and try to include him or I’ll put the baby down to give him extra attention. It’s hard having two kids especially now when the baby is so small and need so much more of my attention.

Naveen has been a good big brother though, he always asks me if I need help and will bring bottles upstairs for me, reach diapers and wipes, he kisses his sister and wants to hold her.

He will sometimes feed her so I can make myself something to eat or when I need to do something else.

I think I’m adjusting well to having two children especially in these strange times. If I’m being honest I’ve been suffering a bit from being stuck at home, given how my pregnancy went where I was stuck at home with only doctor visits as my time outside its only a given that I’d go stir crazy without a reason to go outside. I miss the air and the sun and I wish things go back to normal soon.

Before I forget to mention it Oyanie made one month on March 22, one month already it seemed like I just had her. Time is going by so fast.

The Useless Sibling

Hey guys,

Today I want to talk about something that has always bothered me.

Ever since I was very young I’ve always viewed myself as the useless sibling. I have two older sisters who were obviously intelligent, they got good grades they were Salutatorian and Valedictorian of their classes, I also have three younger brothers who are also obviously intelligent, graduating with High honors, internship, also Sal/Val of their class, and then there’s me.

Quiet, can’t speak in school, trouble with bullies, terrible grades, held back twice, nothing really special. I didn’t graduate with honors and I didn’t go to college, I am the useless child. Every parent must have a dud and I always knew it was me.

When I was younger you could go to Wendy’s for a free meal with your report card and for whatever reason my father always brought me along to see my siblings get their free meals and he would buy nothing for me. I’d sit there and watch them eat and feel out of place.

He’d also do this with toys, I got nothing while they got something new to play with. I never really blamed my siblings, I blamed myself for being too dumb to understand the work, too dumb to be able to speak.

My mother probably didn’t know about this and I know if she did she would have bought me something even if it was something small and tiny. She never let me feel useless until that one year she said to me “if you get good grades, I’ll buy you that doll you wanted”, I worked my ass off and I didn’t get that doll, sold out is what she told me.

I think that was the same year my youngest brother was born and my grandmother, my mother’s mother passed away. I remember not feeling anything really, I didn’t cry, I didn’t understand why others were crying but when I saw my mother break down I felt it, I cried because my mother was crying. I loved my grandmother and I have very fond memories of her but I just don’t feel emotions like other people.

That was also the very first year I was held back, I stopped trying, I stopped caring, my first experience with depression but nobody noticed. They said I was being difficult and willful. Nobody saw me.

I used to have a very best friend that I’d eat with hang out every chance I got and the very next year we stopped hanging out and I’d sit by myself on the stairs in front of my class room. I didn’t have any friends, I didn’t eat lunch, my thought were not the best and I didn’t know how to change them.

It’s not to say some of my classmates didn’t try, they did, they invited me to sit with them under a mango tree, they’d share a little of their lunches with me and talk around me. Never to me because everyone knew I didn’t talk. I barely even smiled or showed any emotions.

For my entire young life I felt out of place like I couldn’t understand my peers, they were all speaking a language I just didn’t know. I tried to emulate them, I tried to have crushes like the other girls and copy their mannerisms and what I thought their thought patterns might be but it was like playing a part I had no business trying out for.

In Jr. High my second year of 7th grade after being held back yet again I encountered a teacher that challenged me. According to one of my older sisters she was in the woman’s class all of one day but this woman would constantly call me by my sister’s name and it chafed because I had my own name. This woman would also make fun of students who did poorly and I was not going to let her make fun of me, she was going to know my name. Mine, not my sister’s but mine.

I got into honors that year, I spoke for the first time that year, my grandfather, my father’s father passed away that year. My mother was pregnant with my baby sister that year, 9/11 happened that year and my mother lost my baby sister that year.

It was a catalyst for me and I let everything push me into doing everything I could to get out of school.

It didn’t matter. My father still didn’t acknowledge what I had accomplished, I was still the child that couldn’t speak and couldn’t make it in the real world because I was filled with so much anxiety I couldn’t do half the things my siblings could.

It’s amazing how much your parents can hurt you without knowing they did or maybe he knew exactly where to inflict the worst pain.

He’s such a confusing person, he says these cruel things but then he took me out for my birthday just me and him and he bought me a birthday gift that I never thought he would. We’d go out to the movies together and we argued yes but it seemed like only the two of us did these things. My father was like me.

He was filled with anxiety and he didn’t know how to express his emotions.

As I got older I learned more about him just by observing him and I am so much like him not just in looks but in temperament.

All those times when he’d sit by himself away from others, I understand it now, he looked so cut off from us because he didn’t know how to interact with us.

When he’d want to leave or not go to a social function, I fully understand it. I hate social functions and how it drains me.

His special hobbies, his desire for a schedule, I do all of this as well.

I felt like I was looking for his approval and never got it but I was the only one he’d call to help him, the only one he showed a little attention in, I think my father understood me just a little better than I understood myself back then.

That saying he kept saying to me? That I’d never go anywhere and be able to survive in the real world?

I took it to heart and pushed myself, I left home and traveled internationally, I got married and I might still struggle socially but I function on my own level.

I might not be as academically fortunate as my siblings but I am not the useless sibling, I made my success in personal battles and I accomplished my own great things.

Thanks for reading a tiny bit of my story.

Best day ever

Hey everyone!

I just want to talk about yesterday and why it was the best day ever.

My husband has so many friends that from what I know of my childhood and my family it seems unnatural 😀 we spend a lot of time with them and it wears me out both physically and mentally. Don’t get me wrong I like his friends BUT I need time to myself to unpack all the stress of the week and it seems like I can never get that time because I’m always home with Naveen or at his parents or friends and that’s like being bombarded with even more stress. The talking, the laughing, the music, the smells, everything beats at me until I’m in a deep dark pit crying. To make matters worse we stay at these stressful events for hours and hours and I’m just tired and want to go home but he’s not ready to go home and Naveen is not ready. So there I am month after month being abused mentally.

Yesterday I decided to stay home by myself and it was wonderful!

I had the house to myself, it was quiet, I didn’t have to concentrate on anything other than watching one of my favorite movies The Princess Bride. I could feel all the stress leaving my body and my mood lifting.

If you have Social Anxiety and are also an Introvert like me never feel bad about staying home and watching your favorite movie, your mental health is way more important than being social because society dictates you must be, enjoy your time alone guilt free and don’t make it a one-time thing. When you feel yourself slipping engage in some self-care.

I am ready for the week now and actually thinking about smiling but we’ll see what tomorrow brings huh!

Until next time!

I love new books!

As an aspiring author, there’s nothing I love more than new books, the smell alone can be addictive but the feeling of getting your hands on the next book in a series after waiting for months even years is explosive.

Unfortunately for me, finding time to read these days are slim to none, not only do I have to go out several times to drop and pick up Naveen but I have to battle my depression to even feel like reading a book I not only was so excited to read but waited a long time to receive in the mail. I used to be able to read over 100 books in a year and I have fallen to a little under 50.

I want to enjoy my favorite past time again, I want to be able to fall into a book and forget everything around me, I want to live and love.

Last month I finally got Vengeance Road (Torpedo Ink #2) by Christine Feehan.

Go zero to sixty in this dangerously sexy novel from #1 New York Times bestselling author Christine Feehan.

Breezy Simmons was born into a ruthless motorcycle club—and now that she’s out, she’s never going to be that girl again. But when her past catches up with her, Breezy must go to Sea Haven to seek out the man who almost destroyed her. The man who chose his club over her and left her feeling used and alone.

As vice president of Torpedo Ink, Steele is ride or die for the brothers he lived through hell with. He never thought he’d find something as pure as his feelings for Breezy, or that keeping her safe would mean driving her away with cruel words that turned her love for him to ash.

Now, Steele won’t let her walk away twice. He’ll do whatever it takes to make Breezy his woman again—especially when he learns the real reason she came to him for help, and that the stakes are higher than he ever could have imagined…

Synopsis from Goodreads available here: Vengeance Road (Torpedo Ink #2)

I preordered this book back in January and had to wait quite a while since it was shipping from the US to France. Before devouring it I decided I was going to re-read Judgment Road first so that I can have the settings and characters fresh in my mind before continuing the series. Although I already read the book and thoroughly enjoyed it I am struggling to get through it. I really want to read the new book but I want to finish this book first!

To make matters worse I picked up a new book and immediately started reading it. It’s called Land of Love and Drowning by Tiphanie Yanique.

A critically acclaimed debut from an award-winning writer—an epic family saga set against the magic and the rhythms of the Virgin Islands.

In the early 1900s, the Virgin Islands are transferred from Danish to American rule, and an important ship sinks into the Caribbean Sea. Orphaned by the shipwreck are two sisters and their half brother, now faced with an uncertain identity and future. Each of them is unusually beautiful, and each is in possession of a particular magic that will either sink or save them.

Chronicling three generations of an island family from 1916 to the 1970s, Land of Love and Drowning is a novel of love and magic, set against the emergence of Saint Thomas into the modern world. Uniquely imagined, with echoes of Toni Morrison, Gabriel García Márquez, and the author’s own Caribbean family history, the story is told in a language and rhythm that evoke an entire world and way of life and love. Following the Bradshaw family through sixty years of fathers and daughters, mothers and sons, love affairs, curses, magical gifts, loyalties, births, deaths, and triumphs, Land of Love and Drowning is a gorgeous, vibrant debut by an exciting, prizewinning young writer.

Synopsis from Goodreads available here: Land of Love and Drowning

I have only read a few pages but I am enjoying it, I feel like I’m home with the use of Creole writing, I know some might struggle with it and pronouncing the words right but it’s my native tongue and it just rolls off my mind’s tongue. I feel a sense of peace in this foreign land.

On another note, I was looking forward to receiving a new phone I just recently purchased but it got pushed back to next week. I had planned on getting acquainted with my new phone this weekend but I think I will use it to read and write.

Until next time!

Name change

As you will no doubt notice I have changed the name of my blog to better reflect the stage in my life I’m in right now. There’s no longer a baby in there and there hasn’t been for a while so it was time to change it.

Once Upon a Dovy was the hashtag I would have used if we had had a huge wedding with ceremony and invitations but life has a way of changing in a quickness so I’m using it here now since this is who I am now.

I know many people make new years resolutions and whatnots, I have never seen a point in doing this, this year I think I will. I want to go into 2019 not feeling depressed every day, I want to be able to sit down and work on my crafts whether it’s writing, photography, or crochet. I want to be able to enjoy the things I used to love and maybe pick up some new ones.

I aim to crochet a temperature blanket, an afghan is way too ambitious for a beginner like myself so I want to start off small. For those of you who don’t know what a temperature blanket is, it’s a blanket where you crochet a row or two in the color that represents the temperature of that specific day, the aim is to have a row or two for every day of the year and you’ll have a unique and interesting blanket with many colors. If I was living back home in the Virgin Islands I’d no doubt have a blanket with maybe just two colors for the whole year but since I’m living in France with it’s changing seasons I’ll have so many colors, I think I want to add in a little break so I know when the months change, a line of white or something and possibly a heart applique for February since it will be Valentines and my birthday.

Other than the temperature blanket I want to write more, this year has been terrible for my writing and I’m kind of ashamed of this, I also want to pick up my camera more, there is nothing around me that captures my interest but maybe I can start doing animal photography more since it’s more linked to nature than an old building is.

Well, I have a pie to bake, Christmas parties and the such which I am not looking forward to…

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, I wish you all have a joyous time and if you suffer from Depression like me I hope you find something that’s worth holding on for.


Bonjour à tous!

When in France right?

For the past two days, I have been inspired to revisit an old story I started working on about two years ago. All my interest in it had fizzled and it just sat there stagnant until Thursday when I was going through my old stuff and saw it. Immediately I felt this need to dust it off and breathe some new life into it. It’s not finished by any means, you can say that it is barely begun so I won’t have a lot of work to dissect and can just start writing whenever I feel like it. I tried to remember just why I never began my story and why it was put into a coma and the only thing I could think of was that I didn’t have the voice to tell it. I firmly believe that if you haven’t connected with your storyline on a deep level it will never get anywhere. A forced storyline is never a good thing and if you have to force it why are you writing it in the first place?

I read over my files, I keep very detailed records of my storylines whether it’s in old notebooks or digital notebook on Evernote or Google Docs. I have literally hundreds of half-built worlds and storylines, finished short stories that need a good editing. What I do not have is the desire to do what I know needs to be done. It has been so hard for me to push through my depression and get back to what I have always enjoyed but this month I feel like I will be able to accomplish much.

I do a bit of poetry and have some works in progress on Wattpad that I have been focusing on lately. If you’re interested and registered on the site you can view my profile here at LLDove.

My pieces are anything but popular but I feel like they fall into very specific niches and they are special to me especially Tales of an Introverted Expat and The Silence Inside Me, both are poetry-based and reference my depression, anxiety, and selective mutism to an extent.

The piece I am working on now can be typed as a Romantic Comedy, it is called One Night Romeo.

Gia Joseph was tired of the small town she grew up in where everyone knew her as the recluse, she wanted a fresh start somewhere new and exciting. It was cliche to move to France with the hopes of finding love but what Gia found was an unforgettable one night stand. She couldn't get this guy out of her head and against her better judgment began looking for him hoping that he was looking for her too. The problem with finding someone in a big city is that it's nearly impossible to run into the same person twice, somehow fate intervened and Gia found her one night Romeo, unfortunately, he didn't remember who she was!
Gia spends the entire summer manufacturing coincidental meet-ups with the hopes of reminding her Romeo of who she was and why he should be more than a one night Romeo.

I can’t say when it will be finished but I do plan on working on it until I am satisfied with it.


My Return to Blogging

Hello, long time no see…

Entirely my own fault, I ended up in a very deep depression and I was not being truthful to myself about how deep I was, every day I would say it’s no big deal I’m not too bad and then next I’m crying in a corner by myself. I had to take a step back and work on me, I’m happy to say that while I’m not 100 percent better, I’m in a place where I don’t feel like everything is darkness. It’s been about two years since my last post and almost three years since my move to France, I’ve been working on my French, I can understand a bit now, I can reply in my head sometimes but the words don’t seem to come out unless it’s “Bonjour/ Bonsoir/ Bonne Nuit” “Oui”, or “Je sais pas”. Pitiful I know, I’ve been doing workbooks, watching tv shows, talking to my son although he tells me I’m not supposed to speak French to him, I have also been doing some genealogy.

My paternal family is French from the French Antilles so I have been using my tiny bit of French to read the birth, marriage, and death certificates, it has been so rewarding because I learned a lot of new words and I can now identify them without having to look them up or translate them, also we watched some movies in French, my absolute favorite was Coco, I was actually able to follow along with most of the storyline and understand most of the movie, a weird thing happened whenever I hear the songs in English I automatically hear them in French in my head, I find this very fascinating. I suppose it’s because I’ve never heard the songs in anything but French so I stored it away under French vs watching movies I saw in English in French. 

Anywho, what other updates, my little bean will soon be five years old, I shaved my head last year, I have a very nice curly Afro now, shrinkage means that it’s long but you’ll never be able to guess that unless I twist, braid, or flat iron my hair. I’ve also been working on a story, the title is a bit TBA at the moment but I can share my synopsis with you. Here is what I’ve been working on since late last year.

An Irish jeweler living in a small town buys a new journal, upon opening said journal he discovers that it’s already filled with mysterious writings. He tries to return the book to the store, but they have no records of it ever being sold by them, the jeweler decides to read the journal in the hope that there would be clues to the identity of the owner, he discovers that a young woman might be in trouble and he might possibly be her only hope. During the course of his investigation, the Jeweler uncovers an old family secret and begins questioning everything that he has ever held about the world around him. He must now find the owner of the journal and help rescue a young woman before it is too late. 

Once it’s completely finished I’ll be sure to link it here for your reading pleasure, that is if you are interested in reading it…


I’ve suffered with depression my whole life and have never taken anything for it, I must always rely on myself to get me up out of the dumps because like always “nobody understands”. It’s so easy to tell someone that they should focus on what they do have and not about what they can’t do or don’t have. Sometimes what you do have can’t pay the bills, it won’t help you protect and keep you family in a safe environment. It will not bring the sunshine back.

“What’s the point of it all?” I have never found the answer to that question, sometimes I just ignore the question but it is always there nagging at the back of my head, poking me when I am most vulnerable, What IS the point of it all?? I wish I knew, wish I could answer that question once and for all so that I never have to face off with it again. People will try to tell you the point of it all but their answers mean nothing because they aren’t you, how can they tell you what they don’t know, I’ve often wondered how someone who doesn’t live your life or even went through what you have can tell you what the point is, their words are like salt on an open wound continuously pouring and causing pain and they do it with an oblivious look in their eyes and a smile on their lips.

I’m a pessimist at heart, I don’t know how to change that or if I can, I’m 27 and pretty much set in my ways, be flexible they say but have you ever tried to bend a old rubber band? It either loses it’s shape and is no longer useful or it breaks. I think that’s what my problem is, I’m trying to change and losing my shape, I’m no longer the me who used to smile and laugh, I’m no longer the girl who used to dream. I try to change to become what other people want and I have become a miserable weak creature.

“It will be better” What is better? How will I know when it’s better, who can tell me it’s better? The same people who tell me to focus on what I have? It will become better when I get what I need? But I’m not suppose to focus on what I don’t have so once more how will I know…
Of course I am an argumentative person and nothing you say will change my mind, like a toxic mixture I am doomed to self destruction.

I hate this feeling, I hate it so much, I feel helpless to do anything, I want to do something so bad and yet I don’t know what I want to do. Watching Naveen helps a bit, his little toothless smiles cheer me up, watching his play with his toes, concentrate so hard to grab something and he does it with the same facial expression his father gets when he’s doing something, makes me smile.

I think I’ll go hold my little boy while he’s still a little boy and just take this one day at a time.