3 Things I Loved (and 1 Thing I Hated) in September 2025

 

Welcome, ladies and germs to another edition of 3 Things I Loved (and 1 Thing I Absolutely Hated), September 2025 edition!

September was a quiet month for me for the most part, even with these eclipses. Nothing major happened to me. I wasn't really creative much this month. I think I only wrote four or five poems this month, and only got as far as chapter five on my novella I am writing. As you know, I had to start my novella from scratch because my laptop crashed last month. I'm writing a whole new concept.

Anyway, without further a due, here are three things I loved in September!

1. Sabrina Carpenter's new album "Man's Best Friend"
Sabrina Carpenter's new album is a banger to me. I fell in love with three songs on the album.  They are: "Sugar Talking", "We Almost Broke Up Again Last Night", and "Never Getting Laid". Each of these songs reminds me of my recent relationship with my now ex. Especially Sugar Talking and We Almost Broke Up Again Last Night. Never Getting Laid is pretty much my anthem right now because I haven't had sex in five years and I am not breaking that record for just anyone. They gotta be pretty freaking special. Also, I kinda wish my recent ex to go as long as me without sex. I know, I'm an evil bitch.

2. TeenNick's new nighttime schedule
Okay, I am loving the nighttime schedule on the cable channel, TeenNick. Fairly OddParents, Rugrats, and Hey Arnold all night long! I love it! Very relaxing and calming shows. No freaking SpongeBob or Ren & Stimpy screaming at the top of their lungs waking me up and scaring me. Although, I recently watched Ren & Stimpy on Paramount Plus and fell asleep to it. Although, to be fair, it was season one (the only season I tolerate).  But yeah, I'm enjoying the new nighttime line up and don't have to turn on a streaming service at night anymore when I can watch old school Rugrats (pre-Dill and Kimi) and some Hey Arnold. Did you know my favorite Hey Arnold character is Helga Pataki and my favorite Rugrat is Angelica Pickles? That tells ya'all something ;-)

3. Sharpening my listening skills with this insightful book "Counselling Skills For Dummies" by Gail Evans

I am trying to improve my listening skills as a tarot reader and as a family member and friend. This book was recommended in a few of my tarot books I've read, most recently a book by Theresa Reed aka The Tarot Lady, "The Cards You're Dealt With". The Cards You're Dealt With and Counselling Skills For Dummies are two must-read books for people who wish to go pro reading tarot cards for others (as you know, I read tarot cards for my day job). Counselling Skills For Dummies has exercises for you to reflect on such as how well you take care of yourself in all aspects of your life such as emotionally, physically, career, friends & family, spiritually. I learned that I take care of myself better than I thought I did. I also learned where I needed to focus more on (hello, relaxing and finding peace!). I also did a drawing of all the things that support me and things that drag me down. Again, I was amazed by all the things that lift me up and support me and what little stuff weighs me down. I am only on chapter five of this book, I'm slowly taking in everything I read to comprehend it better. But this book will be a permanent fixture in my library and I will constantly recommend this book to my tarot reading colleagues.

And now, it is time for the one thing I absolutely hated in September 2025!

Drum roll please...

NOTHING!!!

I honestly can't think of anything that really bugged me this month. It's a shocker. Honestly, I felt great up until this week. I'm starting to burn out on creating content for my Tarot & Poetry Instagrams, writing blogs every week, and writing my novella. And on top of that, I am filming reels everyday for my tarot Instagram that I haven't created reels for my poetry instagram in such a long time. And I've been meaning to!

September for the most part was just quiet and productive.

So yup, that's the recap for this month. I would rate September 4.5 stars out of 5 stars. ⭐⭐⭐⭐✨

I'll see you all next month!

September Poem Dump

 

Leftist Punching Bag

By: Samantha Jean Tate

I once voted for a villain

to make someone else happy.

This someone convinced me 

People misunderstood the villain.

The person I made happy?

He still bitched.

He still complained.

He still felt lonely and misunderstood.

He still had an icy heart

and didn't give a flying fuck about my grand gesture.

He said he wanted me to stay liberal.

He enjoyed challenging my point of view.

But I don't argue when we clearly do not see

eye to eye.

I was just his leftist punching bag.

And somehow, 

He still had my heart.

Buggin' By: Samantha Jean Tate

Oh man, I'm totally buggin'.

I failed my driver's test again.

This time I didn't quit.

I just drove until I almost got hit.

I'm totally buggin'

How else am I supposed to go to the concert?

I guess I'll have to sell the tickets,

Cancel my hot date.

Buggin' was not in my fate.

Chasing Sparks By: Samantha Jean Tate

I no longer chase sparks,

I chase connection.

I chase authenticity.

I'm looking for realness.

I'm seeking that wildfire,

Someone who knows how to start my fire,

And put it out.

I'm looking for magic

in a mundane world.

I'm looking for starlit dinners,

And serenades under the moonlight.

Slow dancing in the kitchen

Making pancakes at 3 AM

Lying in lavender fields

Talking about life.

I'm no longer chasing sparks.

I'm chasing a flaming passion.

Samantha, Unboxed By: Samantha Jean Tate

I spent forty years

Trying to fit myself

Into neat, tiny, little boxes

For society's sake.

I wasn't just Samantha.

I was—

Samantha, the career woman.

Samantha, the autistic woman.

Samantha, the single woman.

Samantha, the beautiful woman.

Samantha, the mediocre woman.

I was a 

Fat woman.

A get healthy woman.

That McDonald's chick.

That spinach-loving freak.

I wore these costumes

Stitched too tight.

I was the aunt.

The baby sister.

The daughter.

The granddaughter.

The niece.

The cousin.

The friend.

The enemy.

The lover.

Every role handed to me,

like womanhood was a checklist.

As if my worth was only real,

When it had a name to it.

But underneath these skin-tight costumes,

there's just me—

a woman who will return to stardust one day.

And be nothing.

But time and space.

Her Magic Still Lingers By: Samantha Jean Tate

Her magic still lingers

In his heart.

Her spells still linger

In his chest

Like butterflies.

Her whimsy still fascinates

Him and perplexes

Him.

Her laughter rings through

His ears.

He's still in love with her.

Her sorcery and all.

My Friend Hope
By: Samantha Jean Tate

I ran into my old friend Hope.

She was still the same.

Long, sunshine hair

Wearing a flowy dress

Like Florence Welch.

She was still the

Rose-colored glasses

Starry-eyed optimist.

"How do you keep going?" I asked her.

She pulled me close -

Her floral perfume lingered, lilac scent filled the air.

"People think I'm all rose-colored glasses and glittery dreams", she smirked, like she knew a secret.

"But the truth is," she leaned in and her voice grew softer,

"I break down too. I get tired. I'll stare out the window sometimes and feel...nothing."

She glanced at the ground, twisting a ring on her finger.

"It's not all bad. Cynicism keeps me grounded. Realism reminds me I'm alive."

I ran into my old friend Hope.

She enlightens me and encourages me to keep going.

Even when the world isn't listening,

When I am numb to my environment—

Like when the world is moving fast and I'm stuck on pause,

Or I want to end it all.

Hope is not a person.

She is

Me.

It Feels Good By: Samantha Jean Tate

It feels good

Not to have you in my life anymore

Finally, I am free to be me

Be the person I actually am

Don't have to hide or put up a facade

It feels good

To miss you

But no longer want you

It feels good that you've moved on

I've moved on too

I've chosen myself

It feels good

To no longer have to deal with sarcasm and attitudes

And disingenuous applause

It feels good

That I've finally chosen me!

Time to Move on

By: Samantha Jean Tate

"It's time to move on," she said as she woke up and rose out of bed.

"I'm done grieving, I'm tired of feeling hurt, I'm tired of letting betrayal take power away from me," she said as she looked in the mirror, washing her face, getting the sleepy bugs out of her eyes.

"It's time for me to live. It's time to get out of survival and time to live in thrive-al."

She brushed her teeth, washed up, and put on her clothes.  She was ready to embrace the day with courage. She had enough of crying and feeling lonely. She did enough grieving. She did enough sobbing. She did enough feeling sorry for herself.

Here she was, ready to face whatever the day brought to her.

She set her intention to find joy in life without him.

She was ready.

It was time to move on.

And she encourages you to move on, too.

Because she is me.

Which poem resonated with you the most? What was your favorite line? Drop me a comment and let me know! I'd love some feedback!

Upcoming Book Signing @ R&B Used Books in Grand Blanc, Michigan

 

I will be at R&B Used Books in Grand Blanc, Michigan on Saturday, September 27, 2025 from 12pm to 2pm having a book signing for my poetry books, GROWTH: A Healing Journey of Poetry and Prose; and See Ya & Other Goodbyes: Poems & Prose About Life, Love, and Loss Through My Eyes.

GROWTH: A Healing Journey of Poetry and Prose invites readers into an intimate and raw exploration of self-healing. Through powerful poetry and prose, Samantha Jean Tate shares her deeply personal journey, navigating topics such as mental illness, suicide, death, rape, verbal abuse, and struggles with self-worth. Spanning the years from 2021 to 2024, this collection reflects on moments of intense emotion and resilience, offering insight and catharsis to those who have walked similar paths.

Diagnosed with autism at 22 and bipolar disorder in recent years, Samantha Jean Tate provides an unflinching portrayal of life’s battles, from bullying and low self-esteem to mental health struggles and suicide attempts. Written with vulnerability, GROWTH is a testament to the power of creativity and self-expression as tools for healing.

See Ya & Other Goodbyes: Poems & Prose About Life, Love, and Loss Through My Eyes is a heartfelt collection that captures the many shades of goodbye. Through tender poems and reflective prose, Samantha Jean Tate explores romantic breakups, the enduring grief of losing beloved grandmothers, the sorrow of pet loss, and the bittersweet endings of friendships. Alongside these goodbyes are meditations on the simple pleasures of life, the search for kindred spirits, the journey of growing older, and the quiet triumph of learning to feel at home in one’s own skin. Honest, raw, and deeply personal, See Ya & Other Goodbyes is a tribute to love, loss, aging, and the quiet, resilient beauty of being human.

Both books will be available for purchase. A complimentary inscription and signing come with your book. You may also bring in your already purchased copy and I will be happy to sign it for you 😊

Let's make this book signing a success not only for me, but for a local small business!

R&B Used Books is located at:

12830 S. Saginaw Street Suite #F

Grand Blanc, MI 48439 United States of America

Birthday Memories (Poems and musings about aging, birthdays, and my 40th Year)

 

41 Please Be Kind
By: Samantha Jean Tate

Dear 41,
Please be kind.
40 had its ups and downs
mostly downs.

Dear 41,
Please be gentle.
40 didn’t let me love myself out loud
as much as I should’ve.

Dear 41,
Please let me enjoy my company.
40 told me I was nothing without a somebody.
And you know what?
40 was wrong.

40 was harsh.
40 was cruel.
40 was the medicine I needed.

Dear 41,
I hope you are filled with laughter,
I hope you are filled with love-
from yourself and those around.

Dear 41,
I wish for a peaceful year.
A year of enjoying...
You.

My 40th birthday was the second worst birthday I ever had. The first worst birthday? September 12, 2001—the day after 9/11. I’d like to talk about my worst birthdays ever. We’ll start with September 12, 2001.

I was turning 17. The day before, we lived like it was going to be the end of the world. Two terrorists from Afghanistan hit the Twin Towers in New York. And then a couple of hours later, some terrorists tried hitting the Pentagon, but the plane crashed into a field in Virginia. I was in my second period, You & the Law class. This was an elective class I took, as part of me did kind of want to be a lawyer at some point. This class was just giving me a taste of what law school was like. Someone came into our classroom. I can’t remember if it was another teacher or the principal, and told my teacher to flip on ABC. And there we saw it — the second plane hit the towers, right on live TV.

I knew this was a terrorist attack right from the get-go. And I had a gut feeling it was Afghanistan or Iran that was behind it. Because those were the two countries that really detested us Americans at the time. When I found out it was Afghanistan, I was floored. But yet, I wasn’t surprised. School let us out early that day, but I still had to go to the Genesee County Area Skill Center for my Office Professionals class. I remember on the bus to the skill center, we all were talking about what was going to happen to us. There was talk of the draft being reinstated. And this time, they talked about having women register for the draft. And then the talk ranged from “should we go to war or just rebuild and move on?” I remember that a lot of my classmates were antiwar. I felt we needed to go to war—with Afghanistan. Not the Iraq fiasco that happened. 

I used to believe in the saying “an eye for an eye”. Now, I think personal revenge is the way to go. Have a glow-up instead of trying to get back at someone. It’s much more peaceful.

The next day, we had school. We started the day with a moment of silence and then recited the Pledge of Allegiance, which honestly I hadn’t recited since third grade, maybe? It was my birthday, and to be honest, I felt miserable. I felt ashamed. I felt guilty about having a birthday. Not the typical feelings to have on your birthday. And you’re only 17 once. I wondered what my future was going to hold. Did I even have a future? I pondered. 

School let out, and my best friend Sarah came home with me. We were going to celebrate my birthday together, along with our friends Misty and Holly. And I was hoping my boyfriend Rich, would show up as well.

Rich was a toxic on-and-off relationship I had when I was 16. We were on again at that time, and I had invited Rich to come over for my birthday. We were a lot like Donald and Daisy Duck. He had a temper; I had a temper. He wasn’t very kind to me at all, as a matter of fact. He would verbally abuse me. Call me fat, stupid, ugly. And yet, I put up with it for some reason. Probably because I believed those things about myself because of low self-esteem and having depression. I also wanted a boyfriend for the sake of having a boyfriend that I didn’t care if he treated me rotten or not.

Misty, Sarah, Holly, and I were having a blast together. But the possible upcoming war and draft were the topic of our conversations. Sarah and I were worried not only about the draft involving us women but also our boyfriends at the time (Rich and Zach). 

Just as we were going outside, Rich pulled up in his red Pontiac car, blaring rap music. Rich acted like he didn’t want to be with me or be around me. He didn’t even wish me a happy birthday or hug and kiss me.

I don’t remember what happened, but somehow, Rich got into an argument with either Sarah or Misty and me, and he called all of us ugly, especially me. He then sped off and squealed his tires and left. 

I was in tears. My birthday that year was ruined. By an asshole that I should have left at 16. And stupid 9/11 terrorists. And I left him alone after that day. He tries to friend request me on Facebook from time to time, but I block him and his profiles.

The 2001-2002 school year was the worst school year and the best school year at the same time.

Aging
By: Samantha Jean Tate

I’m not sure how I feel about aging. On one hand, I’m past the craving validation phase. No longer looking for men to satisfy me or to accept me. I accept myself —every curve, every trait. I accept my fate of no Saturday night dates. I wear clothes for comfort and to feel sexy, not to impress anyone. 

I’m not sure how I feel about aging. I can’t handle greasy food anymore. I can’t sleep in until noon — instead, I wake up at the crack of dawn, starting my day with pills and breakfast. I can’t sit criss-cross applesauce for very long; otherwise, my sciatica hurts. 

I’m not sure how I feel about aging, but I know I am enjoying every second.

 

Another Birthday Ruined...By an Asshole... 

Another toxic on-again-off-again relationship also ruined my 40th birthday. Only this time, I wasn’t as self-aware to get myself out faster.

It was the morning of my 40th birthday. I was texting my recent ex. He went on and on about work and how much he had to do at home that day. He completely forgot to wish me a happy birthday. And I know that doesn’t seem like such a big deal, but it was a big deal to me. He wasn’t coming up here from Missouri to see me. And his birthday card he allegedly sent got lost in the mail, conveniently. And then he never sent me a gift or flowers. He went on talking about his day without telling me happy birthday.

Now, if you talk to him, he will state that he was planning on wishing me a happy birthday when he called me. But I didn’t know this. And it honestly didn’t matter. Not to be acknowledged, even through text, on your special day, felt like a betrayal to me. I felt like I did not matter to him as much as he said I did. And that he allegedly mailed out my card on September 10th, at the very last minute, made me angry. 

We’ve had talks before about how special birthdays and certain holidays are to me. But no, he did not honor that. He always sent stuff really late or not at all. He claims his ADHD makes him forget. Full of excuses, as you can see. Blames everything but doesn’t take responsibility for himself. Or he wouldn’t send it at all because “we were fighting and weren’t talking at the time”. He had no romantic bone in his body. And I get that some people don’t have a romantic sense in themselves.

I was wrecked the whole day. And that’s when things started turning in my tiny brain. I need to let him go—but it won’t be until May 2025 that I finally let him go. Sometimes, you just gotta let a relationship run its course, and you need to just be fully done. And I needed almost three years to completely be finished with his shenanigans.

It’s My Birthday!
By: Samantha Jean Tate

It’s my birthday!
Did you know it’s a special one?
Probably not—
I didn’t set Facebook to remind the world.
That’s on me.
But you—my lover,
You were supposed to know.
I waited for the words: “Happy Birthday, baby.”
But they never came.
You forgot.
And in that silence,I realized—
Maybe I don’t mean as much to you
As I thought I did.

It’s my motherfucking birthday.
And you forgot.
That’s how I know
It’s time to make a change. 

As you can tell, I wrote this poem after the incident. It was my coping mechanism for the day. That, and crying, and going to therapy. Which, ironically, I had a therapy appointment that day. I was planning on talking with my therapist and reflecting on making it to 40. Instead, I spent the day making an action plan to leave my ex behind. And venting. A lot of venting went on.

What I’ve Learned

I think the one thing I learned is that the older you get, the less special your birthday is. It doesn’t really matter to anyone. But you. And I guess that alone can make it special. You can’t depend on having a partner to remember your birthday or family to make it special. 

This year, I plan on getting some McDonald’s for lunch, having a solar return reading from my astrologer, and getting a pizza for dinner. Then, I will spend the night in my bedroom listening to music, journaling, reading my tarot cards, and playing The Sims on my laptop. I also hope to have a few tarot readings for clients booked that day.

You make your day, birthday or not. You don’t have to give assholes the power to ruin days, like your birthday. Yes, some things are just plain shitty (like the Rich fiasco and 9/11), and they shouldn’t happen, but remember...you made it to the next level! Don’t let guilt or a partner ruin your day. Your day is about you! Make it count! You’re not the same age twice.