My Big Fat Revenge? Oh, really?

the Oxygen cable network premiered a new show this season, called "My Big Fat Revenge." When I heard about it, I immediately turned my nose up to the idea. It seems rather juvenile and petty for these "adults" to use public humiliation as an attempt to exact revenge on someone that offended them in the past.

Yes, being bullied, picked on, talked about, and left out are all quite hurtful. I know that very well. Not only have I had a weight issue since I was a teen, I'm disabled. I've heard all kind of blind jokes along the way. I've been left out of the "cool kids" club for pretty much all my life. But one thing I refuse to do is hold on to the hurt and pain of those experiences.

What good can come out of holding on to grudges? Let that stuff go!
That's the only way to achieve real healing.
Angela L. Braden is an award winning blogger and motivational speaker. You can learn more about her speaking at www.bradenspeaks.com.

Six Dots

Although I would stand on a mountain top and proclaim that every blind person needs to learn how to read and write braille, I must admit that I hardly ever use it. I truly can't recall the last time I ran my fingers over a word written in braille. Well, perhaps in an elevator or possibly on one of the alphabet cards I use to introduce blindness to the young audiences I speak to...

The truth is that I very seldom use braille in my personal life. I mostly use what I consider to be the smartest technology for the blind in the history of the world. I use screen-reading software on my computers, smart phones with speech, optical character recognition to scan print documents into print, and a digital book reader to read anything my heart desires.

So, why do I think that people who are blind should still learn braille?
Braille is the pathway to becoming and remaining literate. If all of this technology was to disappear, I would still know how to read and write without having to be plugged into a wall socket.

Furthermore, speech programs are all fine and good. But the truth is that if we do everything by audio, then that means a person that's blind is never getting a chance to see how a word is actually spelled. For instance, the word "poignant" is spelled quite differently than it sounds.

So, I'm making a commitment to order a braille book so I can brush up on my braille reading skills. I need to keep my fingers familiar with those six special dots.

Not Alone

I went to undergrad at University of North Texas in the early 90's. Even though it was thirty years beyond the time UNT was integrated, the African American presence was still small. I remember being glad when there was one or two more black students in a class with me. It was good feeling like you weren't alone.
Interestingly, I was always the only blind one in each of my classes at UNT. So, I still felt alone most of the time.
That feeling is still with me today when I sit in my graduate classes at Texas Southern University with a class full of black and brown students. I feel so set apart from all of them because of my sight impairment.
This is why I'm always glad when I talk to and/or read posts on Facebook from my counterparts in the blindness community. It's good to know I'm not out here by myself, trying to make it do what it do.
Even though we can't see, it's good to be seen, even by those that cannot see.

Angela L. Braden is an award winning blogger and a motivational speaker. You can learn more about her speaking at www.bradenspeaks.com.

I'm sure I don't look like the 10-year-old girl I remember.

The last time I saw myself with perfect, undisturbed eye sight was when I was ten-years-old. Almost thirty years have passed and my once childlike features have melted and morphed into a mature, middle age woman. I try to imagine what I look like. And I even comfort myself with the idea that my imagination is likely a match with reality. But the truth is that I have no idea how all the way grown Angela looks like.

I was a cute kid. I think I may even be a cute woman. But that doesn't really mean I look the same. I could easily look totally different.

Last year, I visited a church in my neighborhood. A lady walked up to me and asked me if my name was Angela. I reluctantly admitted that she was right. I waited for her to tell me that she was one of my students from the college or possibly someone I once worked with. Instead, she told me that she and I lived on the same street when we were in elementary school.

How did she recognize me? I am thirty years older, a hundred pounds heavier, and 100% blinder.

Even with all of that, she told me I still look the same.

I supposed that is good. At least, what I remember seeing in the mirror almost thirty years ago is a younger version of what I look like now. I'll take her word for it.

Do you still look the same? Chime in!

Angela L. Braden is an award winning blogger and motivational speaker. You can learn more about her speaking at www.bradenspeaks.com.

Not the Average Girlfriend

It's one thing for a man to bring home a girl of a different race, an overweight girl, an unattractive girl, a girl with a bad attitude, a broke girl, or a spoiled girl. But when a man brings home a disabled girl, everybody is shocked and curious to why a good looking, smart, successful man would bring home a woman with a physical disability.

It's just not cool to have a girl that is disabled. How do you brag to your boys about that? How do you praise a handicapped girl to an overly protective mama?

Well, it can be done. It just takes a strong man. It requires that a man is selfless, open to differences, and reluctant to worry about what others may think of him and his choices for a lover.

Earlier this year, I had a brief romantic encounter with someone. He told his brothers and best friend about me. Well, two out of three of the people he disclosed to about "us" scolded him for messing around with a blind woman.

I'm not going to lie. I was a bit hurt and disappointed that these men got stuck on my blindness. It didn't matter that I have a nice job, a strong educational background, great personality, or even good looking. All that mattered to those men were these blind eyes of mine.

It's sad that some people cannot see me for me. Who's really the blind one in this equation?

Angela L. Braden is an award winning blogger and motivational speaker. You can learn more about her speaking at www.bradenspeaks.com.

I'm taking the "Ultimate "blog Challenge" this month! Join me!!!

I'm always up for a challenge. So, when I heard about the chance to join a community of bloggers in their quest to post a blog entry every single day in the month of October, I quickly signed my name on the dotted line. I'm not going to pretend like this is going to be easy. Even at the height of my blogging, I never posted an entry more than three times a week. So, this challenge is a "real" challenge for me. But hey... I'm up for it.

Of course, I'll be writing about my many unique experiences as a blind woman. So, be on the lookout for my 31 posts. And no, this particular post is not going to be counted as today's post. I'm going to post the first post for the month later today.

I hope you have a fantastic day!!!!!!! And thank you for taking this blogging journey with me as I share my life and thoughts on NuVision for a NuDay.

Be well.

Angela L. Braden
Award Winning Blogger

My Little Helper

My four-year-old niece, Elyssa, is finally at the age she can be extremely helpful to me. She knows her colors and some of the alphabet. She helps guide me around obstacles. And she helps me find different things around the house that are lost in the world of an occasionally forgetful, sometimes disorganized blind woman.
I love the fact that she's so willing and eager to help her auntie. I pray that her experience with me will birth and enhance an abundance of compassion, empathy, and kindness.
Love you, babygirl. Thanks for helping your auntie.

Looking Back

In 2007, I was bullied by a former coworker. The incident caused me to experience fear, anxiety, stress, and a decrease in self confidence.
Despite how disturbed I was about the issue, I made a decision to use the experience to add to who I am rather to subtract. I didn't want this woman to succeed at taking me down a notch, just as she planned. I wiped my tears, stiffened my resolve, and determined myself to be the best employee in the office. Wen I left that job a year later, I had achieved 100% of my required goals.
That experience, along with other circumstances, helped me develop into an even stronger woman than I was in 2007. I thought I was tough then. Well, I'm fierce now.
That same woman that had the nerve to get in my face and seek to humiliate me would not want to try that today. The end result would certainly be different. I'll just say this... I certainly wouldn't be in tears, scared, and intimidated. I would match that woman's nastiness with a boldness to protect my personal peace and civil rights.
So, Ms. Lloyd, you didn't win. I'm better because of you.

My Random thoughts

As many of you know, I post my random thoughts about very specific things from time to time. Well, I'm inspired to open the window of my head and let you guys see what I'm thinking.

1. This morning, I'm sitting on the floor in my upstairs den, listening to the silence that hardly ever occurs at my house. It seems that the only time it is quiet around here is when the residents are sleep. And even then, I doubt if they are quiet. I'm sure that their dreams are filled with the noise and unrest they fill my house with when they are awake. I will be so glad when I can live alone again. I will be able to control the thermostat, the on and off button on the televisions, turn the ringers off on the phones when the spirit hits me, and walk around the house with or without clothes.
Am I a control freak? Perhaps... When it comes to the place I call home, I like to control certain aspects of it. Failure to control the noise level and conflicts makes me nervous. This is why I need to live alone or with someone that matches my temperament.

2. Last month, my aunt died. I cannot believe she's gone. Although she and I had what many, including myself, would call a terrible relationship, I will admit that I'm sad she's gone. Contrary to what she and perhaps others believed, I did love her. I didn't agree with how she did certain things, but I understood how she got to be and act the way she did. Again, I hate that she's gone.
I wish she was still here, enjoying the many hours of christian television she would watch daily. I wish she was still here to enjoy the warm colors she painted on the interior of her house earlier this year. I wish she was still here to go to church and enjoy her pastor and the church family. I wish she was still here to see my nephew and nieces grow up. I wish she was still here to watch Sunday's Best while she's on the phone with my mother.
In a few hours, I will be going to the house where my aunt lived to continue the process to clean it out. Each time I go, I am met with the sadness of knowing that with the exception of my mother, all of the residents of that house, are now gone; my grandparents and three of their daughters. My mother is the only one left. emptying the house seems like a betrayal to the memory of my family. and it is also a reminder that one day, and perhaps one day soon, my mother will join her parents and sisters.
Well, I guess I better stop with this random thought. It's making me quite sad.

3. I honestly desire to blog more, but much of what I would like to say is not what I would really like people to know. I guess I need to keep a private journal. Getting my thoughts outside of my head is quite therapeutic. However, sharing these thoughts with people that actually know me is outright crazy at best. I do need to find an outlet to unload. Perhaps one day, I'll be bold and put some of my "real" business out here for you guys to read. You know... It's like this... Even though I've been blogging here on NuVision for a NuDay for seven years, I'm quite careful what I put out here. I don't want my words to come back and strangle me in the future. So, many times, when I feel inspired to run to my blog and unleash, I hold back. this is the reason why my blogging has become less and less over the years.

4. I'm running a demo version of JAWS. It cuts off every 40 minutes. This is really getting on my nerves. It slows my progress down. I got to figure out a way to purchase the upgrade of JAWS. I'll let you guys know when that happens. My demo version is about to cut off now. **sighing**

5. I think I'm going to post again this week. Be on the lookout.
Love,
AB

In Honor of my Sister, Frances--Sarcoma Awareness Month

This past Sunday, I was a guest on Real World-Real Talk on KTSU 90.9 FM, discussing Sarcoma Awareness. Here's a link to the show if you missed it. Although I think it would be a great idea for you to listen to the entire show, you can catch my segment around 16:05. Take a listen. And while you're at it, say a prayer for my sister, who is fighting this dreadful disease. **Love you, Frances!**
http://dzcofield.weebly.com/real-world-real-talk-radio.html

No more disabilities, please!

My mother asked me to take her walker in the house for her. Because it was too heavy for me to lift, I decided to push it in. I was running all off the sidewalk and into the bushes. I thought to myself that this blind girl bet not ever suffer any illness and injury that will cause me to have mobility issues. If I ever do, I will be in bad shape.
Tonight, I was reminded of when I broke my ankle my last semester in college. Walking with a cane and crutches was nearly impossible. I had to get sighted assistance to travel throughout the campus to get to my classes. That was a tough six weeks! I can't imagine a life of that.
God, help me get my health in check. I don't need any more disabilities!!!!!!!!!

The Midnight Betrayal

Every since I was a teenager, the midnight hours were the time I felt the pressures of life lift. The stillness of the night would ignite my creativity, provoke relaxation, and prompt major introspection. But in the last few years, that's when all the pressures of my life seem to find me and weigh me down the most. My thoughts are marching and sometimes racing through my head. My creativity is stifled and disconnected. And sleep is... Well, I don't know what sleep is. Even when I do fall asleep, I'm accosted by my thoughts in the form of high activity dream schemes. I wonder what the cause of this flip flop is.

Part of the problem is my family. For some reason, my sister, who is staying with us because she's unemployed, does not sleep at night. She stays up and watches television all night. The sound of the television gets on my nerves. The voices from the television competes with the voices of the characters for the book and plays I'm writing. And not only does my sister stay up all night, my mother is also invading my late night hours. She stays up half the night, watching westerns or the sci-fi channel. She even decides to do housework at three o'clock in the morning.

I wish they would go to bed and leave me with that time to myself. They have truly taken away from why night time was so special to me. In the past, the night time hours were the time I would use to be by myself. I would often use that time to study, write, or read. I wouldn't even listen to music or watch television. I was glad enough to be with my thoughts or the power of creativity.

I got to figure out a way to get my night time hours back. Whether I’m using the night time for conscious relaxation, sessions of creativity, or blissful sleep doesn’t make any difference to me. I just need my friends, the moon and the stars, to romance me again.