Author Archives: Samantha Pollock

About Samantha Pollock

I'm Samantha Pollock and I create, empower and inspire.

Talk Your Shit

Have you noticed how often confidence is incorrectly labeled as arrogance or cockiness? As if your hard work, research, sleepless nights and failures didn’t exist and your accomplishments were all dumb luck. All that you’ve poured into your area of expertise gives you the right to speak with confidence and conviction. Don’t allow bystanders and nosebleed seat fillers to dim your light because there’s a reason they have time to be so critical – they’re WATCHING, not working. The people who are grindin’ and focusing on leveling up offer solutions and constructive criticism.

So.

I implore you. I beg you.

PLEASE, TALK YOUR SHIT!

You didn’t work this hard to be silent.

Flex!

Share your talents, knowledge, and hard work without shame or fear. Hold your head high and look “them” in the eyes while you talk your shit.

Talk Your Shit

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I AIN’T RUNNING FROM NOTHIN’

For the first time in as long as I can remember, I’m not running. I’m standing with my face to the sun. On days when the sun doesn’t shine, I stand toe to toe with my fears. I question my attachments because what got me here won’t get me where I want to go.

Laying on the beach. Solo. The wind’s blowing wild, the birds are singing and the waves are crushing my insecurities. My toe’s fucked up, but the X-ray said it’s not broken so I sip my nasty beer and eat my delicious ham sammich. I wiggle my toes a little bit to make sure this moment of solitude and serenity is real. The twinge of pain that shoots up my foot confirms, shit’s real.

The sandwich is done. I’m in a bikini that fits better now than it did in 2013 when I bought it, but I still have belly to rub. I’m rubbin my belly, fantasizing about the life I’m creating and tossing around the revelation that I’m not running from anything. Instead, I took a beach day for myself because it’s what I wanted. I made it a solo day because I only wanted to be with me. Not because life is too heavy or because I’m scared to face reality, but because I wanted to enjoy a moment with my star player.

Smiling at the water. Salt on my lips.

I’m flowing to my purpose. I’m in alignment. I’m divinely positioned and it’s all making sense now. It’s me, myself and I against any issues and it’s not aggression, but a search for understanding that shapes my perception. Watermelon juice dripping off my chin. Ice cold Capri Sun quenching my thirst. Rubbing my fat ass belly on the beach.

I’m divinely positioned and I’m feeling just fine.

Moment of Silence

Moment of silence for the loves lost

at the hands of a woman

the hands of a man

who took it upon themselves to play God.

After the year and some change

of virus related loss,

pain and anguish ripping through families

leaving whole cities, states, countries and continents

frozen in fear, burdened and oppressed by sorrow

you have the audacity to take a knee on a neck

“mistake” your gun for a taser, even after

much training, even after releasing the safety

even after raising to aim and pulling the trigger

Don’t insult my intellect.

you have the nerve to murder at a traffic stop

pepper spray a uniformed soldier

assault your neighbor because you

can’t possibly believe that this black beautiful being

shares the same space and air as you.

The audacity. The gall. The fuckin nerve of you.

Moment of silence for the loves lost.

Moment of gratitude for the lives spared.

Peace, love and healing to those suffering from the trauma inflicted on us as loved ones, bystanders and witnesses.

Moment of silence because I’m tired of talking when I’m enraged and disgusted

because it’s a broken system and “reform” and “repair” aren’t enough for these discussions

since these systems are doing what they were created to do

and that was never to provide liberty and justice for all

when the men writing it saw my people as

property, savages, and less than a man.

Moment of silence because

folks are getting tired of this shit

and things go from talking to violence.

Thus,

I’ll observe this moment of silence.

Something Like a Spring Garden

Small moments mean the world to me because I know what it’s like when those moments don’t happen. I ask you to help me build something or to teach me your perspective because those are moments we didn’t get before.

As I’m growing, I have learned to look at you as a man, not just my dad. That shift in perspective helps me see you. Not your mistakes or shortcomings, just you. It allows me to extend patience and speak freely.

You’re my dad, but I choose for you to be my homie.

This is my healing. This is me forgiving. This is us growing.

Every project completed and every honest conversation is a step forward.

I’m in therapy learning skills that allow me to navigate the blocks engrained in me since conception, but it’s out here with you that the heavy lifting happens. I never say it aloud-I get that whole “taking shit for granted” vibe from you, but I’m learning-but I appreciate the times you show up. I’m grateful for you and look forward to seeing you grow because you’re never too old to do your best.

Ay Da! Thanks for doing yard work and asking to take a picture with me on Easter, that’s major.

Rise.

I am safe.

I am protected.

I am loving.

I am loved.

I create peace. 

I speak sunrays.

I smile gratitude.

I rise with affirmations and gratitude. On those mornings when my anxiety’s attempting to Geppetto me into doing nothing or screaming statistics in my ear, I quiet the noise with gratitude. When I feel like I have nothing, I wiggle my toes and fingers, rub my hands together, blink and smile. That’s how I remind myself that if I don’t do anything more in the day, I’ve already won because I’ve defeated the voices that told me not to rise.

I encourage you to rise. Fuck those voices. 

Breath in your body means you’ve got a reason to live.

You’re a gift. 

Your existence is important, even if you don’t feel like it in the moment,

Rise.

All is Well Tee