Vicious Cycles: STOP attracting the same MEN!

By Daphanie Howard

Love of self and believing she’s enough has empowered D’Alise James to become the best version of herself.

D’Alise James is a sexy, alluring go-getter, striving to manifest all her heart’s desires in the city. She is caught up in a vicious cycles of attracting the same types of narcissistic men.

Here she goes again! Day after day, throughout the years, she finds herself with the same collection of emptiness. Who are her lovers? What are her lovers? Where does she find love? Who is D’Alise James with her lovers? The flawed love is stagnating her relationships.

D’Alise is determined that her adverse childhood experiences will never define her in her relationships. She is aching to leave the small-town family memories in the past and move into the future, so she sets out on a journey of self-discovery.

She finally finds a place to call home by eliminating her self-limiting beliefs. She rediscovers herself and begins healing her mind, body, and spirit. Along the way, she learns to set better boundaries and recognizes the red flags in her relationships.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Daphanie Howard
• Release date: Oct 4, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005007867

Daphanie Howard

Daphanie Howard is originally from Alabama. She has twenty-nine years of federal service. Her focus experience is in contracts, real estate, customer service, veteran’s and loss mitigation services.Her background includes membership in the Real Toastmasters of Tucker #00877554. She is also a notary public, Real Estate Agent and a member of the Georgia Real Estate Fraud Prevention and Awareness Coalition (GREFPAC), Women in Defense (WID), Defense Acquisition University Alumni Association, National Defense Industrial Association (NDIA). She is also a Mediator, and is registered with Georgia Supreme Court Commission on Dispute ResolutionHer hobbies include Tennis, Kick-Boxing, Walking, Yoga, Decorating, Cycling, Crochet, Cooking, and Volunteering with the Georgia Public Broadcasting and Peachtree Road Race.

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VICIOUS

CYCLES

STOP attracting the same MEN!

By Daphanie Howard

Forward by Dr. K. M. Howard

Vicious Cycles: STOP attracting the same MEN!

Copyright © 2021 by Daphanie Howard

All rights reserved.

Any reference to real events, establishments, organizations, local or people, living or dead, has the sole objective of giving authenticity. No part of this book may be produced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the written permission of the publisher.

Type of work: Biography / Autobiography

Cover Design: Author’s Dream

Cover Photograph thanks to: Author’s Dream

Contents

Foreword

Life is a Mirror

Introductions: Expectations Agreements

Chapter 1: Leaving Home —Summer 1985

Chapter 2: Traveling Alone

Chapter 3: The Bus Ride

Chapter 4: A New Start

Chapter 5: A New Start Continues

Chapter 6: A New Start Resumes

Chapter 7: First Date — A Night to Remember

Chapter 8: A New Day

Chapter 9: Things Aren’t Always What They Seem

Chapter 10: What’s Next?

Chapter 11: Hotel U

Chapter 12: Celebration

Chapter 13: Unexpected information

Chapter 14: Unspoken Words

Chapter 15: Trying to Maintain Normalcy

Chapter 16: Questions and No Answers

Chapter 17: Getting to The Bottom of Things

Chapter 18: Tension

Chapter 19: Radio Station

Chapter 20: WDAH Offer

Chapter 21: WDAH Conditions

Chapter 22: Afraid of The Dark

Chapter 23: Another Job

Chapter 24: Meet Obie Bushman

Wig Express — General Shopping Center

Taxicab Conversations with Obie Bushman

Returning from Overseas

Getting to Know Obie

It’s Official We Are A Couple

The Tantrum

Meeting a New Guy

Blow Up

Moving Out

Moving in My Own Apartment

Where Did Time Go?

Back to Alabama Memories, Emotion, and Confusion

Moving to Atlanta

Car

Nightlife

Exploring the Idea of A Change in Scenery

Confronted with Questions

Relocating to Virginia

The Apartment

Seasons Changed

Stalked

Liar

Losing My Edges

Exit Strategy

Return to Georgia

Date Night

Blindsided

Moving On

Settling in my new place — A new me

The Chase

Lessons to Learn

Chapter 25: Meet Earnest Baptiste

Home Alone

The Telephone Call

Invitation

Investing

The First Official Date

Emergency

Mind Chatter

Asking and Receiving an Answer

Dating and Gifts

Exploring Me

Can I get a return call?

The Barrier of Bad News

Love Message

Chapter 26: Meet Corey Knight

Breaking the CYCLES!

Foreword

by Dr. K. M. Howard

As she entered my office I knew that there was something eccentric and moving about her. Sometimes when entering a person’s space you must pay attention to the space instead of the person.

She moved with calculation of accomplishing what she set out to do. It was apparent that the goal was clear but the direction was foggy. This was the first encounter that I had with Ms. Daphanie.

We began to discuss her vision for this book, that it would enlighten the reader to start their stop. To begin bringing to an end the CYCLES of life they do not desire. To begin a new leaf on life. Stop making wrong choices again and again giving people relationships, covenant agreements, the power to enter and cause damage to their life.

Daphanie has found the penmanship to place on paper the right words to support and help anyone that finds themselves in a spinning web. The person that once like her are foggy with the direction.

This book contains the most uplifting and revealing aspects of relationships on many scales. It will take you on a journey of a young woman’s life and the root, cause, and effect of choices.

It is detailed in its concept of giving you the blow by blow details, so you don’t miss a thing. Sometimes the reason why we make the same mistakes over and over, is because we miss the small signs.

Daphanie has with great style delivered a message to the soon delivered reader, on how to break the Cycle! By recognizing the root, then eliminating the cause, that will stop the effects.

Your life has just begun, because your Cycles have just ended.

—Dr. K. M. Howard

Integrity is doing the right thing, even when no one is watching.

—C. S. Lewis

Life is a Mirror

By Lucretia Robison

I suspect I am a mirror to the rest of the world.

You do not see me. You see your perception of me.

Your perception is yours based on your experiences.

It’s not me.

Some look at me with love.

Some look at me with hate.

Some look at me with disdain.

Some look at me with disgust.

Some look at me with fire.

Some look at me with fear.

Some look at me with bravery.

Some look at me with pity.

Some look at me with empathy.

Some look at me with envy.

Some look at me with gratitude.

Some look at me with appreciation.

Some look at me with pride.

Some look at me with laughter.

Some look at me with sadness.

Some look at me with surprise.

All who look at me see through their own perceptions.

I am just here: existing, living, breathing, feeling, and experiencing life the best I can with the knowledge and abilities I currently have. When I know better, I do better. I am human. I am a spirit within the flesh. I am energy. I am a creator.

Regardless of what else I am, I am a mirror of an element in yourself that challenges you. It would be wise to accept and love that element of yourself.

Whatever feelings arise in you, I will carry on with my life’s work. Find your purpose. Do the best you can. Then do better. Life is nothing but a mirror. Illusions are meant to be shattered with the shining of the light of truth.

Time to awaken.

Introductions: Expectations Agreements

Verbal or Non-verbal

Communication is the key to any good relationship. It’s beautiful when you are honest about what you want and expected early in the relationship. An individual can choose to stay or exit quickly. Often, we know our truths but don’t have the courage or confidence to express them because we don’t want to be labeled as arrogant or overbearing. Society has changed the perception of traditional relationships. It’s perfectly fine to be in a monogamous relationship. Each person needs to discuss exclusivity.

Values

Throughout my years of and social engagement I’ve noticed there is a breakdown of values to include religious, moral, social, work, and political values. Normally, values are passed down from one generation to the next generation. This is not happening today. Parents are not communicating with their children. In turn, the children are left to figure it out on their own spending many years in the same cycle of mistakes and regret with any guidance to make a better life for themselves. I learned I keep attracting the same guy throughout my dating history. For example, I keep attracting liars, cheaters, bullies, and controlling men. They all have the attitude it’s all about them.

Personal Methods for Healing

Each person has to find their own method of healing. What might work for someone else may not work for you. I recommend developing your own daily routine first thing in the morning. You can start with prayer, reading a few verses in the Bible, meditation, yoga, practicing martial arts forms, listening to gratitude affirmations, spiritual music, two-mile walk, taking my vitamins and hydrating the body with water. It is best to start with something rather than nothing.

Counseling

Professional counseling might be the best alternative if you need to discuss confidential difficult times. Recognizing you need help and getting counseling is not bad. It becomes bad and shameful when you decide not to do anything.

Chapter 1

Leaving Home —Summer 1985

The promise of the new day’s light is barely peeking into the window through the blinds in my room. I turn over, to readjust myself. I hope I can go back to sleep. There’s a break in the silence, and I can hear the creaking noise in the living room. My grandmother, Clara Rosa, is pacing the hardwood floors.

This day feels rather haunting because she operates like a well-oiled machine. She doesn’t use an alarm clock. She wakes up every morning at 3:00 a.m. to start her day. Her daily routine begins with a prayer, reading the Bible, and listening to gospel music and sermons on the radio.

Today, the house is filled with no singing in the kitchen or music on the radio. There’s no smell of biscuits baking in the oven. I can’t hear the bacon sizzling in the skillet or eggs being cracked on the kitchen counter. There’s no sound of the broom sweeping the floors or residue of the foot passage from the previous day. There is evidence of customers being served moonshine in the designated room of the house. I call it the relaxation room where people would come to drink, smoke, listen to music, and dance their cares away.

I remember as a child, being awakened in the wee hours of the morning by a knock at the back door. I would hear a car engine running in the cornfields. The sounds of a baritone voice are echoing in the backyard. Sometimes, I would get up from the bed, walk on the pecan hardwood floors that lead me to the kitchen vinyl flooring, and peep through the cracked door. I would see darkness. A glimpse of light would redirect my vision toward the dashboard of a vehicle. I adjusted my young eyes and saw an old model car. Listening intently, I could hear movement. The trunk of the car was open; a few clear gallon jugs are delivered to the back screened-in porch. An exchange of money is made. Thank you, ma’am, I brushed up against the door, and it made a squeaky noise. My grandmother and the male’s attention were directed toward the door. I quickly made my way back to bed and pretended to be asleep.

Throughout the years, I’ve heard those noises but not last night. I’ve watched years of my grandmother attentively placing the charred apples in the clear liquor to change the color. I’ve helped her serve her clients. My grandmother would look at me time and time again, repeating her words of wisdom and warning.

This is a business; I don’t drink, smoke or do drugs and never will. You can’t make a profit if you’re drinking your product; Men will drink with a woman in the streets, but rarely does he want to take a drunk and promiscuous woman home to wife; Be a respectful woman; What you and your man do, keep it behind closed doors, it’s private. There were times I wondered was she talking about the mistakes she made. Was this guidance or a warning? Never mix business with pleasure; Don’t lay where you make your bread; Do you see me dating these drunks?; I smile and grin with them; This is my business; I got to take care of my family; Baby, you got to remain sober at all times; Baby, you got to remain sober at all times.; She would always repeat that saying twice and then…. Do you hear me?; Keep your eyes on your money at all times; This stuff, I am selling will kill a person."

Today feels like someone has died. The intense energy of mourning is felt throughout the house. I am trying to figure out who has died? For an intense overcast is in my presence. A familiar Bible verse reminds me to prepare for the unknown.

To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven: A time to be born, and a time to die: a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted; A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up. Ecclesiastes 3:1-3 King James Version (KJV) Bible.

I am dressed in my black two-piece sweatsuit sitting on the edge of the bed with my purse and bag. I’m a big girl now, I say this aloud, I stand up, take a deep breath in and a slow, deliberate breath out. I slowly walk from the bedroom to enter the living room. I proceed to open the thick beige heavy-duty curtains, to let the daylight in from the two large windows. The moderately furnished home was immaculate. It was free of clutter. No newspapers or magazines were laying around the house. The wood-paneled walls are adorned with generations of family pictures and memories. I notice the glass walnut wood cabinet was unlocked and a rifle is missing. The case typically displays five shotguns and rifles.

My grandmother startled me, Good Morning, Baby.

I’m a little baffled, but I reply, Good Morning, Grandmother. I see you have your rifle in your hands. Are you going hunting?

Clara Rosa believes in firearms. She has several handguns, shotguns, hunting rifles and the ammunition stored throughout the home. She has stored her expensive weapons in the cabinet. The firearms are always loaded and ready to shoot. I’ve often watched her clean, load, and polish the firearms. I learned how to load and shoot a gun before I was ten years old. My grandmother was a small, framed, strong, fierce, and courageous woman. She would stand up to anyone no matter who they were with or without a gun. I admired that about her. I always felt safe with her, but today I’m not sure of our safety. I wasn’t sure why she’s holding a rifle today pacing the floors and guarding the front door in her long white robe.

Why do you have your rifle out today?

Oh, no particular reason. I might have to kill some wild animals today. Especially the ones that don’t know their place. You got them on lockdown." She goes on, changing the subject without noticing my level of discomfort.

D’Alise, you should stay here and start your master’s degree program. Your mother and siblings will be lost without you."

Her words touch emotions I haven’t had in years. I feel as if I’m being backed up in a corner. It reminds me of when I was ten, and fifteen elementary kids were taunting me asking if LaRosa was sick? I couldn’t give them an answer that would satisfy them. My grandmother wouldn’t be satisfied, either.

Grandmother, I am tired. I am leaving the family in a good place. I have been helping with the family ever since I was five years old. I’ve been cooking the meals and cleaning both houses. I’ve been helping with my three siblings for a long time.

What can I do to make you stay? Her reply I expected and have an answer prepared.

Nothing. I hear my mother’s voice in my head.

Darling, it’s dangerous in the city, people stealing, killing, and robbing on the street. It’s just isn’t safe.

My mother always had a fear-based mentality ever since I was a child imprinting her insecurities on me.

Baby, stay. As my grandmother’s tone softens, I understand my need to be determined.

No, Clara Rosa. I need to leave. The sound of the phone interrupts her next comment.

Hello, yes, I will be leaving today and will be at the Greyhound bus station waiting for you to pick me up at 6:00 p.m. Thanks, Goodbye, I spoke quickly. My grandmother was waiting for the call to end.

Baby, please don’t leave. I was a big girl and didn’t need her to change my mind.

My bags are packed, and I have my Greyhound bus ticket right here in my hands. Thank you so much for the blue thirty-inch footlocker trunk. It’s sitting at the front door. I appreciate all the advice you’ve given me throughout the years. You have trained me well and prepared me for life.

I know your cousin invited you to move to Louisiana, but he has a wife.

Yeah, she seems to be nice. She’s called me a couple of times, and we’ve talked on the telephone. I don’t know what to expect with two grown women living in the same house. John has always looked out for the family. I’ve always looked up to him. He’s the first in the family to attend a community college, and he has a career. For me, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity to leave this small, depressed town. If I don’t leave now, I’ll be stuck here barefoot and pregnant like all the other girls.

That’s not true D’Alise. You are a different kind of girl. We kept you out the streets. I tried to give you everything. Don’t leave. She is pleading for me to stay.

John sent me the money to purchase this ticket. He wants me to come. I am leaving. I liked his ex-girlfriend. She was genuine, kind, and kept a clean house. She made the best southern fried chicken and seafood. I don’t know his new wife’s moral qualities or character. I trust his judgment in discerning a person character. I’m certain; I’ll like his new wife. I’m beginning to feel as though there will never be a reason that she will accept. I know it’s now or never. Why can’t she understand?

Make sure you carry your own weight D’Alise; find a job.

I will. I’ve been helping the family with my part-time income for years.

When you find a job, open a checking and savings account at a bank. The savings account will come in handy for rainy days. I want you to give your cousin and his wife rent money to cover your shelter. We raised you well purchase food, cook and clean up after yourself. Always remember your daily prayers. I want you to find and join a good church in the city. When John comes home, give the couple a chance to have quality time together. Don’t be in the couple’s space all the time.

John works overseas. He comes home one week out of the month. Trust me; I will not be in the way. I’m looking forward to this new adventure.

The taxi horn blows. Grandma, my taxi is here. Come here and give me a hug and a kiss.

I kissed my grandmother on the cheek. As I struggle with my purse, bag, and footlocker, I manage to exit the door. I never gave a second thought to the screen door until it slams in my grandmother’s face. The struggling continues, I am determined to do it on my own. My grandmother is standing in the door, mourning the loss of her oldest granddaughter with a sad face and teary eyes. She calls out from the screened entrance.

I can help you.

No. No, thank you, ma’am. I find the strength to make it to the car. I’m determined to prove to myself. I am a big girl.

You can always come back home if it doesn’t work out in the city. You’ll always have a place to call home here in Alabama. I love you.

It’s been a long time since I heard those words. Maybe, they’re resonating today. I recall my basic needs being met daily. I was always fed, clothed, and had a warm place to sleep.

As I walk down the long red brick walkway, I recall helping grandmother lay those bricks in the summertime. The aroma of the roses and flowers smell pleasant. Looking back at the house as I walk away. I will always hold onto the bittersweet memories of home.

I will hold onto the memories:

"I have no regrets leaving the big white southern plantation house with black shutters. On the 4th of July, the long front porch accommodated many family members and filled the three-swing set for gatherings. The fellowship, food, games, and live blues being performed by uncles made me proud to know I had professional entertainers in the family. My grandmother loved making baked beans, potato salad, fresh corn from outback, and her secret Bar-B-Que sauce. The porch extended five feet from the ground and contained different shapes and sizes of flowerpots and planters. I helped my grandmother fill those planters with dirt. I sat on those steps of the property listening to many adult conversations as a child. I gained lots of wisdom and knowledge. The house had lots of curve appeal. The flowers looked lovely around the property. I pulled the weeds and helped plant many of the flowers. The lawn was well manicured. The two large oak trees at the entry made the home look like something out of a magazine with the black antique car parked on the side. During the gatherings, at least eight vehicles could easily be parked on the lawn.

My brother once tied a rope around a black cat’s neck and swung the cat from one of the trees at the front of the home. Bruno was a rebel, always getting in trouble.

Chapter 2

Traveling Alone

I jump in the back seat of the yellow taxicab and wave goodbye. I tap on the headrest.

To the Greyhound bus station on Greensboro Ave, Sir.

On the ride to the bus station, my thoughts run rapidly.

"This day is finally here. This day is finally here. This day is finally here. Thank you, God. I am leaving. I am leaving this place."

I think about my brother and his first proposal for us to run away.

I plan on running away. I’ll never stop nothing, or no one is going to keep me down. D’Alise, if you come with me, we can plan on how we will survive. You got the brains, and I got the streets, smarts.

I never gave his plan any serious thought. I lived in a different reality. Bruno, I can’t go. I don’t know anything else but here. We’re just little kids.

The ride isn’t long. I watched the road without any thought and finally gave in to my new life once the driver slowed down, preparing to park in front of the bus station.

Ma’am, we are here. The taxi driver parks close to the curb. He gets out and assists with my luggage. He opens the glass door and brings all my items inside the bus terminal. He sits them down by the ticket counter. I pay the driver and give him a tip. Now, this is the first time in my life I have felt empowered. I’m ready to concur the world. I approach the window to give the ticket agent my ticket. I look around and notice everyone is traveling with someone.

I went on my first vacation to Iowa on the Greyhound bus with my grandmother and brother. The motorcoach had reclining seats, overhead storage, and an onboard bathroom. This was the first time I had an opportunity to see how other people lived. We stopped in Chicago, Illinois. I’ve never seen so many people in a bus station traveling. I played on the escalator and purchased souvenirs. We each had a packed lunch from my grandmother’s kitchen. Fried chicken, sliced white bread, pound cake, and soda. Hmm, Hmm, Good! The best-fried chicken in the world. When we arrived in Iowa, my uncle picked us up from the bus station in his old model vehicle. He’s happy to see us.

I get the feeling my uncle, and my grandmother have a good relationship. He’s telling us all the places he wants to take us. We went to his home in the historic area where he and his girlfriend lived. I had never seen such a big house; it