The Revealing
After all of that, I still hadn’t “met” my natural hair, if you will. I was still yet to see what I looked like with a short, all-over natural coif. I waited a few days, but after shooting the short film I found myself rushing to the shower with the shampoo. I had to see it. I stepped out of the shower, looked into the foggy mirror…. Eww, was that it? My goodness, I felt I looked like a boy and made plans to go earring shopping the next day. Actually not really, but I did shop for hair accessories…and still do. I figured that the hair accessories would be more affective if I blow-dry my hair upon washing, so I did that for a week. Then I realized that I didn’t want to be blow-drying my hair, too much heat. I went natural to get away from heat a bit. So, I figured I could achieve similar results if I put a scarf around the crown of my head while my hair is still wet. Styling it gets better as my hair grows too. I am now thankful that it grows fast. My mother thought it was really cute and suited my personality quite well, like it was more “me.”. My baby sister wasn’t feeling it too much. My friends were nice and said it was cute, but I know they were hoping that I would learn quickly how to style it, get it under control. A lot of guys who had never said anything to me before told me they liked my hair. Guys with dreadlocks and Afros began to acknowledge me as a fellow “nappy sister.” I felt like I had stepped into another community, which was cool. I had initially planned to cut my hair in March because I wanted to have relaxed-looking hair at the Onyx Ball, but after plans changed I decided I’d get it straightened to a pixie cut. I had even bought this ultra-conservative-looking dress. When my mom saw the dress after I told her I had decided I wasn’t getting my hair straightened (I didn’t want to dry it out and disrupt the natural coil), she dragged me out to find a more suitable dress for my hair. I also freaked out and set an appointment to get two-strand twists, which I found out (at the place I was going) were going to cost me at least $65, minus tip and all that, so I decided to twist them myself and do my own twist out. I think it worked. I was pleased with it anyway.
Adversity
Around this same time, my mom and I were discussing with my (step) dad what color I’d dye my hair (I was excited as I had never experimented with hair colors before, hair was too weak).
Mom: “Dad, what color should Crystal die her hair?
Dad: “The color of a perm. Whatever color a perm is!”
Me: “Dang, Dad”
Mom: “Lester!”
My dad was then, and is now still, quite salty with my natural hair, no matter how I have it done and I have to be ok with that. Just like he doesn’t like it, there are guys who routinely make it their business to ask my why I cut all my hair off and tell me that they liked my hair (or me) better the other way. “I like long hair.” “What was wrong with the relaxer? Your hair was long.” “I just don’t understand.” As much as I try to be considerate and receptive of other’s opinions, I hate to have to say it, but this doesn’t have anything to do with any of you, male or female. My boss isn’t a big fan of my hair either, but that’s just it, it’s MY hair. I wear it. It’s a reflection of me, not anyone else, so I’ll choose how I use it as a vehicle of self-expression; besides, I’m the one who has to care for it. I like it how it is, and while compliments are nice, appreciated, and welcomed, they are not necessary and do not determine how I feel about my God-given hair. As a matter of fact, the only issue I have with my hair as-is is that it’s not growing fast enough for me. I miss having a lot of hair.
Looking Forward...
As far as securing a dude, I’m not interested in a guy that is unable to find me attractive with my hair like this or relaxed. This is me. I can finally say that this really is me. Like my mother said, my hair being natural flows directly into my personality. Now that my hair and I are in harmony (for lack of a better description) I’m holding my head high with a confidence I never quite had before (outside of the 2-week-long ‘fresh perm’ period). Making the final decision to ‘go natural’ is the best thing I’ve done for myself in a long time. I absolutely love my hair, and I’m excited to see what it will grow into.
Monday, March 26, 2007
A H.A.I.R. Journey - Part 3
Rough Seas
During the months to come I had to put my pride aside and encounter the humbling experience of a to’ up head. The mini-glide straightening iron, expensive straightening serums and bang up blow-drying job I would do only went so far with my hair’s eagerness to grow and the thick, tight coils that were soon to form. Within about 3 months, I think, I gave up on fighting the new growth and went to Wal-Mart to buy multiple fabrics with which to wrap my head. This was funny because I was mistaken for Muslim on a few occasions. The most memorable of these was when I went to a family wedding and my (LOUD) cousin whom I love dearly who hadn’t seen me in a while came in and was like, “What’s going on HERE? What, you don’ stopped eating pork?! When did this happen?” She was right to ask. It wasn’t like me to attend a formal family function with less-than-done hair, let alone covered with a black wrap. Around the middle of November I realized that even the wrap thing wasn’t going to continue working for me. I was sick and tired of trying to make sure the fabric texture and color were coordinated with my outfits. I know that many times they weren’t, but I hated having to think about it. I was tired of not having my head exposed, being the only girl whose head was wrapped wherever I went. I crave change and versatility most of the time, and simply changing a wrap did not satiate my appetite for flexibility. So by December I had to holla at my homegirl to keep my hair braided up until further notice. I kept it in long (obviously extended) cornrows for about 7 or 8 weeks. That meant I had it done twice. When I was washing and blow-drying my hair after taking out my second set of braids, my relaxed hair and my natural hair were not getting along at all. It was an unruly mess. The relaxed hair was losing the fight too, falling out profusely, breaking from the natural hair. I could barely comb either section of hair. I had originally said that I’d wait until my birthday, March 2, to do the big chop, but plans had to change…
Snip
Once I managed to get my hair into a semi-decent configuration, I focused my attention on making an appointment to get all the relaxed hair cut off. The shop I went to had its first appointment availability on January 15, which was coincidentally was the Martin Luther King, Jr. Holiday. It was set. That’s when I’d rid myself of the weak, damaged relaxed hair that I had held onto for about 5.5 months. Going into the situation I didn’t know what I was going to do with my hair after it was cut. What would it look like? Would I be cute with short, nappy hair? Would I like how I looked? Was I going to be bald, or manly looking? I pulled out the biggest earrings I owned just in case, lol. During the week preceding the hair appointment, I had a few dreams about what the hair cutting session and results would be like. I was So…Anxious about it. Finally, my day of liberation had come. My appointment was at 1pm at Too Groovy Salon and Spa on Ponce. Tricia, my stylist, was quite helpful and comforting. I went alone, because I prefer to make huge personal changes alone. I get my piercings alone. I’ll probably get my next tattoo(s) alone. I don’t need friendly support or an audience when I’m stepping up and stepping out to ‘do me. That’s just me… Anyways though, she kept asking me if I was sure I wanted to cut it all off, because they had “ways” of making it possible for me to keep most of my length. I know she was trying to be nice, but this part of the situation kind of annoyed me because there was no way in hell she was going to see me every week or every two weeks at $55+ a pop to maintain the appearance of the hair I was trying to hold onto. That being said, I kept saying no until she understood how serious I was about it. I told her to do what she needed to do, and she went to work on it, chopping and snipping non-stop. Then she blow-dried my hair to get a better look at my length so she could cut it into a style. This was when I was spun around to catch a first glance of my natural-yet-straight hair in the mirror. “Oh my God, I look like a freaking CHIA PET!” I thought…. or maybe like a little baby chick with short, fluffy hair. She went back to the snipping and shaping. We ended up with a pixie cut. The pictures of the original cut are around my facebook profile somewhere. Unfortunately, the pictures on here and the images of me in a film I was in, directed by Miss Victoria LeDega, are the only images of me with that haircut. I say that sadly because I do not intend for my hair to EVER be that short again, even though I loved the look. Leaving the shop, I was so excited about my hair. I felt cute again, felt like I was reclaiming my sexy. After 5.5 months, the horrible straight-to-nappy transition was over.
During the months to come I had to put my pride aside and encounter the humbling experience of a to’ up head. The mini-glide straightening iron, expensive straightening serums and bang up blow-drying job I would do only went so far with my hair’s eagerness to grow and the thick, tight coils that were soon to form. Within about 3 months, I think, I gave up on fighting the new growth and went to Wal-Mart to buy multiple fabrics with which to wrap my head. This was funny because I was mistaken for Muslim on a few occasions. The most memorable of these was when I went to a family wedding and my (LOUD) cousin whom I love dearly who hadn’t seen me in a while came in and was like, “What’s going on HERE? What, you don’ stopped eating pork?! When did this happen?” She was right to ask. It wasn’t like me to attend a formal family function with less-than-done hair, let alone covered with a black wrap. Around the middle of November I realized that even the wrap thing wasn’t going to continue working for me. I was sick and tired of trying to make sure the fabric texture and color were coordinated with my outfits. I know that many times they weren’t, but I hated having to think about it. I was tired of not having my head exposed, being the only girl whose head was wrapped wherever I went. I crave change and versatility most of the time, and simply changing a wrap did not satiate my appetite for flexibility. So by December I had to holla at my homegirl to keep my hair braided up until further notice. I kept it in long (obviously extended) cornrows for about 7 or 8 weeks. That meant I had it done twice. When I was washing and blow-drying my hair after taking out my second set of braids, my relaxed hair and my natural hair were not getting along at all. It was an unruly mess. The relaxed hair was losing the fight too, falling out profusely, breaking from the natural hair. I could barely comb either section of hair. I had originally said that I’d wait until my birthday, March 2, to do the big chop, but plans had to change…
Snip
Once I managed to get my hair into a semi-decent configuration, I focused my attention on making an appointment to get all the relaxed hair cut off. The shop I went to had its first appointment availability on January 15, which was coincidentally was the Martin Luther King, Jr. Holiday. It was set. That’s when I’d rid myself of the weak, damaged relaxed hair that I had held onto for about 5.5 months. Going into the situation I didn’t know what I was going to do with my hair after it was cut. What would it look like? Would I be cute with short, nappy hair? Would I like how I looked? Was I going to be bald, or manly looking? I pulled out the biggest earrings I owned just in case, lol. During the week preceding the hair appointment, I had a few dreams about what the hair cutting session and results would be like. I was So…Anxious about it. Finally, my day of liberation had come. My appointment was at 1pm at Too Groovy Salon and Spa on Ponce. Tricia, my stylist, was quite helpful and comforting. I went alone, because I prefer to make huge personal changes alone. I get my piercings alone. I’ll probably get my next tattoo(s) alone. I don’t need friendly support or an audience when I’m stepping up and stepping out to ‘do me. That’s just me… Anyways though, she kept asking me if I was sure I wanted to cut it all off, because they had “ways” of making it possible for me to keep most of my length. I know she was trying to be nice, but this part of the situation kind of annoyed me because there was no way in hell she was going to see me every week or every two weeks at $55+ a pop to maintain the appearance of the hair I was trying to hold onto. That being said, I kept saying no until she understood how serious I was about it. I told her to do what she needed to do, and she went to work on it, chopping and snipping non-stop. Then she blow-dried my hair to get a better look at my length so she could cut it into a style. This was when I was spun around to catch a first glance of my natural-yet-straight hair in the mirror. “Oh my God, I look like a freaking CHIA PET!” I thought…. or maybe like a little baby chick with short, fluffy hair. She went back to the snipping and shaping. We ended up with a pixie cut. The pictures of the original cut are around my facebook profile somewhere. Unfortunately, the pictures on here and the images of me in a film I was in, directed by Miss Victoria LeDega, are the only images of me with that haircut. I say that sadly because I do not intend for my hair to EVER be that short again, even though I loved the look. Leaving the shop, I was so excited about my hair. I felt cute again, felt like I was reclaiming my sexy. After 5.5 months, the horrible straight-to-nappy transition was over.
A H.A.I.R. Journey - Part 2
Epiphany
Contrary to what may be the popular belief I did NOT chop my relaxed hair off under the influence of India Arie’s song “I Am Not My Hair.” I was thinking about it long before she came out with that song. As a matter of fact, not to discredit India Arie, but anyone who actually knows me knows that I actually hate that song. I mean I like the message for the most part, but I was never feeling the music production side of it. Also, it’s cool that she realized that her hair didn’t factor much into who she was, who we are as people and all….but I’ve always been an advocate for a full, healthy head of hair… a glorious mane, if you will, for a woman. I never wanted to be bald, or semi-bald or whatever by choice. Obviously baldness due to illness is beyond one’s control, but I wasn’t trying to visit my infant hairdo on purpose. Heck naw. God gave me hair as a covering (1 Corinthians 11:15). That’s just it though, THIS hair….this thick nappy hair that some call “bad” hair. That was the realization I came to that day in July when I had the epiphany to begin the naturalizing process. Why was I fighting my natural, God-given hair? Why was I allowing myself to get stressed out about it? Maybe it was something that I personally wasn’t supposed to continue doing, for my peace of mind. Now in saying that I’m not criticizing the relaxer, or people who continue to wear the relaxer (my mother and sisters still do, actually my entire family immediate and extended… I’m the weirdo). I’m not even saying that I will never get my hair relaxed again. I’m just saying that a relaxer wasn’t for me in that moment and it isn’t now. I had reached a point where I felt like I couldn’t even be acceptably cute without a fresh relaxer. It was time for me to see (more like learn to see) the beauty in the hair God formed me with. That’s why I decided to begin the natural journey.
Breaking the News to Dad
The next thing to do was to break the news to my gracious hair benefactor, my (step) dad. This man has been paying for me to get my hair done since he married my mother when I was 6, so, needless to say, he’s spent tons of money on my hair. He was quite upset when I told him I was going natural. I think I may have come across as militant in my reasoning. I said something like, “I’m tired of subscribing to the European standard of beauty. I’m going to take an honest look at the hair God gave me.” That infuriated him. He probably said I was crazy and reminded me that he had spent a mint on my hair over the years and that my hair was pretty the way it was. He was mad (and still is a little) with me, but after he calmed down he all but had me promise that I would wear my hair in such a way that I could still wash and comb it… basically, he was trying to ensure that I would not be coming up in the house with dreadlocks, and that was ok with me, reasonable middle ground. I’m not going to lie though. I had considered dreadlocks, but I REALLY, honestly love combing my hair. I always have enjoyed the sensation of a comb through my hair. I also had to promise that I would wear my relaxed hair as long as possible while waiting for my natural hair to reach a ‘feminine’ length. We went over the bible verse I mentioned earlier about a woman’s hair being her covering. My mom was supportive, but she always is. She said I’d be cute either way. I can always count on mommy, but I’m sure she was a little worried about what I planned to ‘do with it’, because while I was going through the process, she kept asking me “So what are you going to do with it when it’s out?” I kept telling her I wasn’t sure. Unless it’s life, death, or financial stability I generally don’t do heavy planning. I try to go with the flow on things that aren’t so crucial.
Contrary to what may be the popular belief I did NOT chop my relaxed hair off under the influence of India Arie’s song “I Am Not My Hair.” I was thinking about it long before she came out with that song. As a matter of fact, not to discredit India Arie, but anyone who actually knows me knows that I actually hate that song. I mean I like the message for the most part, but I was never feeling the music production side of it. Also, it’s cool that she realized that her hair didn’t factor much into who she was, who we are as people and all….but I’ve always been an advocate for a full, healthy head of hair… a glorious mane, if you will, for a woman. I never wanted to be bald, or semi-bald or whatever by choice. Obviously baldness due to illness is beyond one’s control, but I wasn’t trying to visit my infant hairdo on purpose. Heck naw. God gave me hair as a covering (1 Corinthians 11:15). That’s just it though, THIS hair….this thick nappy hair that some call “bad” hair. That was the realization I came to that day in July when I had the epiphany to begin the naturalizing process. Why was I fighting my natural, God-given hair? Why was I allowing myself to get stressed out about it? Maybe it was something that I personally wasn’t supposed to continue doing, for my peace of mind. Now in saying that I’m not criticizing the relaxer, or people who continue to wear the relaxer (my mother and sisters still do, actually my entire family immediate and extended… I’m the weirdo). I’m not even saying that I will never get my hair relaxed again. I’m just saying that a relaxer wasn’t for me in that moment and it isn’t now. I had reached a point where I felt like I couldn’t even be acceptably cute without a fresh relaxer. It was time for me to see (more like learn to see) the beauty in the hair God formed me with. That’s why I decided to begin the natural journey.
Breaking the News to Dad
The next thing to do was to break the news to my gracious hair benefactor, my (step) dad. This man has been paying for me to get my hair done since he married my mother when I was 6, so, needless to say, he’s spent tons of money on my hair. He was quite upset when I told him I was going natural. I think I may have come across as militant in my reasoning. I said something like, “I’m tired of subscribing to the European standard of beauty. I’m going to take an honest look at the hair God gave me.” That infuriated him. He probably said I was crazy and reminded me that he had spent a mint on my hair over the years and that my hair was pretty the way it was. He was mad (and still is a little) with me, but after he calmed down he all but had me promise that I would wear my hair in such a way that I could still wash and comb it… basically, he was trying to ensure that I would not be coming up in the house with dreadlocks, and that was ok with me, reasonable middle ground. I’m not going to lie though. I had considered dreadlocks, but I REALLY, honestly love combing my hair. I always have enjoyed the sensation of a comb through my hair. I also had to promise that I would wear my relaxed hair as long as possible while waiting for my natural hair to reach a ‘feminine’ length. We went over the bible verse I mentioned earlier about a woman’s hair being her covering. My mom was supportive, but she always is. She said I’d be cute either way. I can always count on mommy, but I’m sure she was a little worried about what I planned to ‘do with it’, because while I was going through the process, she kept asking me “So what are you going to do with it when it’s out?” I kept telling her I wasn’t sure. Unless it’s life, death, or financial stability I generally don’t do heavy planning. I try to go with the flow on things that aren’t so crucial.
Contrary to what may be the popular belief I did NOT chop my relaxed hair off under the influence of India Arie’s song “I Am Not My Hair.” I was thinking about it long before she came out with that song. As a matter of fact, not to discredit India Arie, but anyone who actually knows me knows that I actually hate that song. I mean I like the message for the most part, but I was never feeling the music production side of it. Also, it’s cool that she realized that her hair didn’t factor much into who she was, who we are as people and all….but I’ve always been an advocate for a full, healthy head of hair… a glorious mane, if you will, for a woman. I never wanted to be bald, or semi-bald or whatever by choice. Obviously baldness due to illness is beyond one’s control, but I wasn’t trying to visit my infant hairdo on purpose. Heck naw. God gave me hair as a covering (1 Corinthians 11:15). That’s just it though, THIS hair….this thick nappy hair that some call “bad” hair. That was the realization I came to that day in July when I had the epiphany to begin the naturalizing process. Why was I fighting my natural, God-given hair? Why was I allowing myself to get stressed out about it? Maybe it was something that I personally wasn’t supposed to continue doing, for my peace of mind. Now in saying that I’m not criticizing the relaxer, or people who continue to wear the relaxer (my mother and sisters still do, actually my entire family immediate and extended… I’m the weirdo). I’m not even saying that I will never get my hair relaxed again. I’m just saying that a relaxer wasn’t for me in that moment and it isn’t now. I had reached a point where I felt like I couldn’t even be acceptably cute without a fresh relaxer. It was time for me to see (more like learn to see) the beauty in the hair God formed me with. That’s why I decided to begin the natural journey.
Breaking the News to Dad
The next thing to do was to break the news to my gracious hair benefactor, my (step) dad. This man has been paying for me to get my hair done since he married my mother when I was 6, so, needless to say, he’s spent tons of money on my hair. He was quite upset when I told him I was going natural. I think I may have come across as militant in my reasoning. I said something like, “I’m tired of subscribing to the European standard of beauty. I’m going to take an honest look at the hair God gave me.” That infuriated him. He probably said I was crazy and reminded me that he had spent a mint on my hair over the years and that my hair was pretty the way it was. He was mad (and still is a little) with me, but after he calmed down he all but had me promise that I would wear my hair in such a way that I could still wash and comb it… basically, he was trying to ensure that I would not be coming up in the house with dreadlocks, and that was ok with me, reasonable middle ground. I’m not going to lie though. I had considered dreadlocks, but I REALLY, honestly love combing my hair. I always have enjoyed the sensation of a comb through my hair. I also had to promise that I would wear my relaxed hair as long as possible while waiting for my natural hair to reach a ‘feminine’ length. We went over the bible verse I mentioned earlier about a woman’s hair being her covering. My mom was supportive, but she always is. She said I’d be cute either way. I can always count on mommy, but I’m sure she was a little worried about what I planned to ‘do with it’, because while I was going through the process, she kept asking me “So what are you going to do with it when it’s out?” I kept telling her I wasn’t sure. Unless it’s life, death, or financial stability I generally don’t do heavy planning. I try to go with the flow on things that aren’t so crucial.
Contrary to what may be the popular belief I did NOT chop my relaxed hair off under the influence of India Arie’s song “I Am Not My Hair.” I was thinking about it long before she came out with that song. As a matter of fact, not to discredit India Arie, but anyone who actually knows me knows that I actually hate that song. I mean I like the message for the most part, but I was never feeling the music production side of it. Also, it’s cool that she realized that her hair didn’t factor much into who she was, who we are as people and all….but I’ve always been an advocate for a full, healthy head of hair… a glorious mane, if you will, for a woman. I never wanted to be bald, or semi-bald or whatever by choice. Obviously baldness due to illness is beyond one’s control, but I wasn’t trying to visit my infant hairdo on purpose. Heck naw. God gave me hair as a covering (1 Corinthians 11:15). That’s just it though, THIS hair….this thick nappy hair that some call “bad” hair. That was the realization I came to that day in July when I had the epiphany to begin the naturalizing process. Why was I fighting my natural, God-given hair? Why was I allowing myself to get stressed out about it? Maybe it was something that I personally wasn’t supposed to continue doing, for my peace of mind. Now in saying that I’m not criticizing the relaxer, or people who continue to wear the relaxer (my mother and sisters still do, actually my entire family immediate and extended… I’m the weirdo). I’m not even saying that I will never get my hair relaxed again. I’m just saying that a relaxer wasn’t for me in that moment and it isn’t now. I had reached a point where I felt like I couldn’t even be acceptably cute without a fresh relaxer. It was time for me to see (more like learn to see) the beauty in the hair God formed me with. That’s why I decided to begin the natural journey.
Breaking the News to Dad
The next thing to do was to break the news to my gracious hair benefactor, my (step) dad. This man has been paying for me to get my hair done since he married my mother when I was 6, so, needless to say, he’s spent tons of money on my hair. He was quite upset when I told him I was going natural. I think I may have come across as militant in my reasoning. I said something like, “I’m tired of subscribing to the European standard of beauty. I’m going to take an honest look at the hair God gave me.” That infuriated him. He probably said I was crazy and reminded me that he had spent a mint on my hair over the years and that my hair was pretty the way it was. He was mad (and still is a little) with me, but after he calmed down he all but had me promise that I would wear my hair in such a way that I could still wash and comb it… basically, he was trying to ensure that I would not be coming up in the house with dreadlocks, and that was ok with me, reasonable middle ground. I’m not going to lie though. I had considered dreadlocks, but I REALLY, honestly love combing my hair. I always have enjoyed the sensation of a comb through my hair. I also had to promise that I would wear my relaxed hair as long as possible while waiting for my natural hair to reach a ‘feminine’ length. We went over the bible verse I mentioned earlier about a woman’s hair being her covering. My mom was supportive, but she always is. She said I’d be cute either way. I can always count on mommy, but I’m sure she was a little worried about what I planned to ‘do with it’, because while I was going through the process, she kept asking me “So what are you going to do with it when it’s out?” I kept telling her I wasn’t sure. Unless it’s life, death, or financial stability I generally don’t do heavy planning. I try to go with the flow on things that aren’t so crucial.
A H.A.I.R. Journey - Part 1
I felt like writing, so I thought I'd officially discuss my choice to go natural with my hair. I broke the journey (thus far) into sections for people who may be interested, but don't feel like reading all about it all at once.
Background
One day at the end of last July I was in my apartment stressing over how nappy my hair was getting. I hadn't had a relaxer in about 5 weeks and the new growth was becoming unmanageable and unattractive...(my hair grows fast so I used to go about every 4.5 weeks to get a relaxer). I was stressing too, like "How am I going to afford to get it done? How can I time it so that I won't be nappy at the beginning of school? What salon am I going to this time?" See, when I was getting my hair done I didn't believe in letting a homegirl do it because I don't believe in home relaxers with my hair being as thick and curl pattern being so tight. I didn't want to have to cut a homegirl over a relaxer mishap either. In the eyes of many African American women whose hair maybe wouldn't grow as long, I was considered to have semi-good hair... that hair that had a relaxer success story. On the flip side, within about two weeks of having a relaxer, my nap anxiety would come back: "When am I going to schedule an appointment? How am I going to afford it, etc.? I did everything I could to suppress nature. I spent countless hours blow-drying, flat ironing and curling my thick, resilient mane. I say resilient, but really, up close and with top-of-the-line moisturizing treatments, shampoos/conditioners, the best relaxers my hair wasn't resilient at all. As a matter of fact, it was quite dry half of the time no matter what I did. I would get mad when it started to grow. I hated my nappy hair. I hated trying to style the straight hair over it. I wished it would just grow straight, plain and simple. It’s not that I minded having to do my hair. I loved/love combing my hair, but why did nature have to be so frustrating and, at times, depressing? I had been thinking about going natural for about a year and a half. I’d had perms since I was 4 (I sweated in my head so press and curl was not the way to go). A single mother at the time, my mom did not have the time to navigate through my super nappy hair… so she did what she had to do. I pondered this idea of natural hair for a long time, afraid to make the jump because I didn’t know what awaited me on the other side. Was my hair REALLY that nappy? Would I be able to comb it? I loved the fact that I had long hair. As a child I wanted to have long, straight Barbie hair and when my hair was the longest it had ever been (April 2006, right before I cut it just before graduation on May 6) I thought I was on my way to the popular long (mid-to-lower back) hairstyle with ringlets… until I realized that to reach the ideal look, no matter how long my hair got, I’d still have to employ weave at some point. I don’t look down on weave (I’ve worn braids w/ extensions), but there’s a satisfaction a female gets when she can say, “Yes, all of this is mine. No, I didn’t have to buy it.” Could I cope with short hair? Up until that point, the shortest my hair had ever been was up to my ears (during those times before body piercing when I felt like I needed a quick change). In short, I was just scared. How will I look? What will I do with it?
Background
One day at the end of last July I was in my apartment stressing over how nappy my hair was getting. I hadn't had a relaxer in about 5 weeks and the new growth was becoming unmanageable and unattractive...(my hair grows fast so I used to go about every 4.5 weeks to get a relaxer). I was stressing too, like "How am I going to afford to get it done? How can I time it so that I won't be nappy at the beginning of school? What salon am I going to this time?" See, when I was getting my hair done I didn't believe in letting a homegirl do it because I don't believe in home relaxers with my hair being as thick and curl pattern being so tight. I didn't want to have to cut a homegirl over a relaxer mishap either. In the eyes of many African American women whose hair maybe wouldn't grow as long, I was considered to have semi-good hair... that hair that had a relaxer success story. On the flip side, within about two weeks of having a relaxer, my nap anxiety would come back: "When am I going to schedule an appointment? How am I going to afford it, etc.? I did everything I could to suppress nature. I spent countless hours blow-drying, flat ironing and curling my thick, resilient mane. I say resilient, but really, up close and with top-of-the-line moisturizing treatments, shampoos/conditioners, the best relaxers my hair wasn't resilient at all. As a matter of fact, it was quite dry half of the time no matter what I did. I would get mad when it started to grow. I hated my nappy hair. I hated trying to style the straight hair over it. I wished it would just grow straight, plain and simple. It’s not that I minded having to do my hair. I loved/love combing my hair, but why did nature have to be so frustrating and, at times, depressing? I had been thinking about going natural for about a year and a half. I’d had perms since I was 4 (I sweated in my head so press and curl was not the way to go). A single mother at the time, my mom did not have the time to navigate through my super nappy hair… so she did what she had to do. I pondered this idea of natural hair for a long time, afraid to make the jump because I didn’t know what awaited me on the other side. Was my hair REALLY that nappy? Would I be able to comb it? I loved the fact that I had long hair. As a child I wanted to have long, straight Barbie hair and when my hair was the longest it had ever been (April 2006, right before I cut it just before graduation on May 6) I thought I was on my way to the popular long (mid-to-lower back) hairstyle with ringlets… until I realized that to reach the ideal look, no matter how long my hair got, I’d still have to employ weave at some point. I don’t look down on weave (I’ve worn braids w/ extensions), but there’s a satisfaction a female gets when she can say, “Yes, all of this is mine. No, I didn’t have to buy it.” Could I cope with short hair? Up until that point, the shortest my hair had ever been was up to my ears (during those times before body piercing when I felt like I needed a quick change). In short, I was just scared. How will I look? What will I do with it?
I wanted to write... on a computer, you know, typing but not broadcast it to my friends. This was the easiest way to do it and not type in Word, which I didn't want to do. My life is developing interestingly. It's not drama, but I want to run away screaming and walk into it at the same time. I guess this is fun. I keep interfering and walking away from a big, obvious necessity though. I need Jesus. I need to cultivate that relationship, and all I do is allow myself continually to get distracted and put him down and walk away as soon as I pick him back up again. Then I get frustrated with myself. I went home this weekend and didn't get any farther in my book. I dipped out on my prayers. I don't do my schoolwork until the last minute, then I get frustrated... and there is no excuse.
trying to soak it all in
It's a beautiful day, handcrafted by the Maker, my maker. I'm sitting out here at the campanile, sun beaming, blinging it's reflection against water ripples. I won't be able to do this much longer. I have to soak it all in now.
Thursday, March 22, 2007
Trust
I'm sure that this is where one of my faults lie, but I readily trust people. With me trust is more like, you're cool until proven unworthy. That's how someone I know for two seconds can quickly get on my badside. I don't allow much time for a genuine foundation of trust. Well, I learned my lesson on that, and in order to guard my heart better, I've taken to not trusting guys farther than I can throw them... at least initially. I'm cool, I just don't see the point in being all open and vulnerable upfront anymore. It's a dangerous undertaking to trust, put your hope in, or rest in someone so quickly. It's quite unwise, and not what God's wants for us. I had to learn that the hard way, and I lost a friend in the process. In my heart, that relationship is in ICU because I ask God, "How do I trust and foster a friendship with someone who, for all intents and purposes, squandered that trust?" I was at fault for going about things the way they did, and that person panicked... but my heart read that more as disappearance, abandonment and disregardment. If you want to push one of my buttons, that's probably the big, red "Don't touch" button. Those three things are at the root of one of the things that gets to my heart most as a vulnerable human. They make me shut down on a person. Now I can't tell you why that resounds so much with me, I'm guessing somewhere in my childhood experiences I felt like someone turned their back on me. Hell, maybe I repressed it. I'm not sure. All I know is that I really don't cope well with being left hanging. You could accuse me of beating around the bush on some things, but when people's hearts are involved I try to make sure I'm straightforward and say what needs to be said. There's too much that comes with the open-endedness of being 'deserted', for lack of a better word. You have to figure out what the hell happened, what the hell is wrong with you and then what is wrong with that person that they couldn't be up front with you. I consider myself to be a fairly understanding, mostly calm person but I guess sometimes I'm viewed as domineering and threatening maybe? I do feel things deeply, but I'm not necessarily apt to blow up on someone; I don't have a bad temper. Still, I guesssss I could see how someone might freak out and back down... For that, I am sorry, I'm ready and willing to forgive. With sincere, bonafide, God-given forgiveness restored, trust will also come.
Posted on 3.22.2007 at 2:04 PM
Posted on 3.22.2007 at 2:04 PM
Friday, March 16, 2007
Here's a concept...
Before you date a guy, get to know him first. Hmm... but I thought... I thought dating was to get to know a person? I was thinking that, until I came across getting-to-know-before-dating. Maybe that would reduce the amount of time wasted and feelings hurt if I did that. Maybe I could remain a little more out of reach that way instead of getting caught up prematurely. That would definitely reduce the amount of pressure on both parties. Maybe I could find out someone smokes weed BEFORE we're sitting at a table in a dimly lit restaurant. Yes, I think this knowing better before dating thing is not simply a good look, but a premium look. Only, who am I kidding? Not myself. In order to plan this out there would have to actually be guys that were interested in getting to know me better, lol. I laugh, but that's for real. These days I'm not so sure that I'm particularly interested in collecting yet another guy friend... but nah, it's cool. I like my guy friends. They've been absolutely wonderful.
I really couldn't ask God for more friend support than I have out here in ATL. In spite of all that, I'm dying to get out of here. I need a new backdrop. I can't WAIT until I move to Tallahassee this July. I have high hopes and aspirations for the two (or more) years I'll be down there, and I'm stoked. I have to take that one BIG step out of my familiar undergraduate scene and move further into who I am as an adult, and the way things are now I know I can't do that here. I have to consciously break away, make new friends, connections, etc. Ok, so I am a bit scared about learning a new place and being alone a lot and not having anyone down there to talk to candidly about my life... but then I think about it, and out here I'm primarily the listener. Only like one or two people make the effort to take the time to save their story and listen to mine. In light of that, what would be the social difference aside from being distant from familiar faces and constant invites to random places? Yeah, I guess that is a pretty big difference, but certainly one I can handle with God. Compared to my desire, need, drive to get the hell out of Atlanta my fears seem soooo minute, so tiny, so negligible.
I'm so uneasy and impatient and ready to leave right now... but I can tell that God has some things to wrap up with me before I step into a new situation. Little by little he's been putting them across my desk: Vertical Moments, the 2 remaining membership classes at Destiny, possibly Leadership Training School, He knows what else. He's preparing me for Florida, building up my faith for the hard times that await me there, teaching me to trust Him and walk in His Will (willingly) for my life and think big, according to the vision He's slowly revealing to me.
I really couldn't ask God for more friend support than I have out here in ATL. In spite of all that, I'm dying to get out of here. I need a new backdrop. I can't WAIT until I move to Tallahassee this July. I have high hopes and aspirations for the two (or more) years I'll be down there, and I'm stoked. I have to take that one BIG step out of my familiar undergraduate scene and move further into who I am as an adult, and the way things are now I know I can't do that here. I have to consciously break away, make new friends, connections, etc. Ok, so I am a bit scared about learning a new place and being alone a lot and not having anyone down there to talk to candidly about my life... but then I think about it, and out here I'm primarily the listener. Only like one or two people make the effort to take the time to save their story and listen to mine. In light of that, what would be the social difference aside from being distant from familiar faces and constant invites to random places? Yeah, I guess that is a pretty big difference, but certainly one I can handle with God. Compared to my desire, need, drive to get the hell out of Atlanta my fears seem soooo minute, so tiny, so negligible.
I'm so uneasy and impatient and ready to leave right now... but I can tell that God has some things to wrap up with me before I step into a new situation. Little by little he's been putting them across my desk: Vertical Moments, the 2 remaining membership classes at Destiny, possibly Leadership Training School, He knows what else. He's preparing me for Florida, building up my faith for the hard times that await me there, teaching me to trust Him and walk in His Will (willingly) for my life and think big, according to the vision He's slowly revealing to me.
Monday, March 12, 2007
Good Mourning by India.Arie
Good morning silence
Good morning to myself
Good morning to the pain in the center of my chest
It's crazy how much I miss
a simple good morning kiss
oh ohhhhh...
Good morning independence or is it loneliness?
I know I said I wanted this but I have regrets
I pray for God's will to be done
The very next day you were gone
Oh Ohhhhhh
Good morning to the harsh realities of life
and good morning to the fact we're not husband and wife
We made a promise to stay
But destiny got in the way
oh ohhhhhhhh
Good morning...
Good morning acceptance
Good morning inner strength
I'm loving every moment
even the strain
It's crazy how much I miss
a simple good morning kiss
It's crazy how much I've missed
Now it's time for me to live
oh ohhhhhhhhhh
Good morning...
Good morning optimism
Good morning to my faith
Good morning to the beginning of a brand new day
I know that God's will be done
So I lay down my pain and I'm moving on
I know that God's will be done.
So it's a good morning after all
Good morning to myself
Good morning to the pain in the center of my chest
It's crazy how much I miss
a simple good morning kiss
oh ohhhhh...
Good morning independence or is it loneliness?
I know I said I wanted this but I have regrets
I pray for God's will to be done
The very next day you were gone
Oh Ohhhhhh
Good morning to the harsh realities of life
and good morning to the fact we're not husband and wife
We made a promise to stay
But destiny got in the way
oh ohhhhhhhh
Good morning...
Good morning acceptance
Good morning inner strength
I'm loving every moment
even the strain
It's crazy how much I miss
a simple good morning kiss
It's crazy how much I've missed
Now it's time for me to live
oh ohhhhhhhhhh
Good morning...
Good morning optimism
Good morning to my faith
Good morning to the beginning of a brand new day
I know that God's will be done
So I lay down my pain and I'm moving on
I know that God's will be done.
So it's a good morning after all
Monday, March 5, 2007
My Fabulous BIrthday Weekend
FRIDAY:
I didn't make any plans actually... which was weird because it was my birthday... but Kelvin, my buddy who always has my back, came through. I went to MJQ with him and los chicos. I had soooooo much fun. Part of that could have been that I would just be dancing and I kept getting handed drinks... naw I didn't drink that much, I just freaking love MJQ on Fridays. I had my vans on but they looked like sneakers.
SATURDAY:
This was the official birthday event... a ladies dinner, southern-style seafood buffet at the marvelous Blue Willow Inn in Social Circle Georgia. Almost all of my good friends were there. Hui gave me this experiential birthday card that I had to sign and agree (basically) to make a fool out of myself and do what it told me to do, including standing up in the resturant and flapping my arms and squawking like a chicken and singing them one of my favorite songs "Appletree" by E.Badu... like I can carry a tune. I probably ate half of my weight in seafood and I bought a shot glass to commemorate the celebration. I really appreciate all of my friends who thought enough of me to come allllll the way out to Social Circle and have an expensive dinner with me. It really meant a lot that you guys would make it a priority. That's not to take anything away from those who weren't there though.
SUNDAY:
I went on a date. We went to Studio Grille, which was cool. Conversation was pretty good too until homie told me that he smoked weed all nonchalantly... kind of in the same way that someone would tell you they're a dog lover. It's not that I think he's a bad person, it's just that I have to have some standards and the use of illegal substances is like 2 and a half strikes in and of itself. I mean for him to bust out with that on the first date he was either tryng to 'weed' me out, it was of high importance to him, or he thought he could tell me just about anything and I'd be chill. When he said this I tried to keep my face together, but all I could manage to say was that I didn't smoke weed and that I don't smoke at all. I tried to bounce back and be cool, but I was quite shocked and blindsided by the situation at that point. I'm done. I give up, lol. This dating thing is too much.
I didn't make any plans actually... which was weird because it was my birthday... but Kelvin, my buddy who always has my back, came through. I went to MJQ with him and los chicos. I had soooooo much fun. Part of that could have been that I would just be dancing and I kept getting handed drinks... naw I didn't drink that much, I just freaking love MJQ on Fridays. I had my vans on but they looked like sneakers.
SATURDAY:
This was the official birthday event... a ladies dinner, southern-style seafood buffet at the marvelous Blue Willow Inn in Social Circle Georgia. Almost all of my good friends were there. Hui gave me this experiential birthday card that I had to sign and agree (basically) to make a fool out of myself and do what it told me to do, including standing up in the resturant and flapping my arms and squawking like a chicken and singing them one of my favorite songs "Appletree" by E.Badu... like I can carry a tune. I probably ate half of my weight in seafood and I bought a shot glass to commemorate the celebration. I really appreciate all of my friends who thought enough of me to come allllll the way out to Social Circle and have an expensive dinner with me. It really meant a lot that you guys would make it a priority. That's not to take anything away from those who weren't there though.
SUNDAY:
I went on a date. We went to Studio Grille, which was cool. Conversation was pretty good too until homie told me that he smoked weed all nonchalantly... kind of in the same way that someone would tell you they're a dog lover. It's not that I think he's a bad person, it's just that I have to have some standards and the use of illegal substances is like 2 and a half strikes in and of itself. I mean for him to bust out with that on the first date he was either tryng to 'weed' me out, it was of high importance to him, or he thought he could tell me just about anything and I'd be chill. When he said this I tried to keep my face together, but all I could manage to say was that I didn't smoke weed and that I don't smoke at all. I tried to bounce back and be cool, but I was quite shocked and blindsided by the situation at that point. I'm done. I give up, lol. This dating thing is too much.
Friday, March 2, 2007
bitter.23.sweet
So, no, I'm not excited at all to be 23 but I'm obliged to thank God that I've made it thus far almost in one piece... I have so much to be thankful for, and I'm trying to focus on it... but it would be the jolly, happy all the time Christian-facade if I sat up here and told you that I felt like things were lovely. It's a good thing that we can't rely on feelings to tell if God is real. Let me tell you what He's been doing in my life recently, overtly...
So, you might know that I'm at Georgia State in a School Psychology Master's/Ed. Specialist program, but what you might not know is that by the 4th week into the program I realized that I hated it... then I made arrangements to apply to Higher Education Administration Master's Program (I would like to be a Dean of Students some day). I applied to Florida State University (one of the highest ranked in the nation) and to University of Tennessee as a back-up school. A week after turning in my FSU application I found out that I was accepted into their program (a few days later UT told me they'd waitlist me, but who cares...their program isn't ranked).
Visiting FSU
I drove to Tallahassee this past Sunday (yes, 6hrs) for FSU's Higher Ed. Visiting Days to see what FSU and it's people were like and to interview for assisstantships for the coming year(s). I got there on Sunday around 4:30pm and was almost immediately plunged into this reception with prospective students, professors and employers (who would be interviewing us the following day)... Needless to say, after driving 6hrs alone in the rain (safely thank God) I was not trying to be social and sell myself to any of the employers there or to the other prospective students so I chilled, ate my food, stepped out to talk to my fam on the phone... all the complete opposite of what I should have been trying to do, but I have to be me. I hate meeting people and trying to 'act' bubbly because I'm actually tired and need a second to get myself back together, like at that reception. But anyways, my host was great she was ready to leave when I was and was prepared to answer any questions I had for her... since I was interviewing at 8:30 the next morning. Monday was stressful as crap, I was scheduled for 7 half-hour interviews with various Student Affairs employees for Assistantships (to gain experience and have school paid for) so this was a big deal. I had to be on point, so I had on my 'lucky' wide pants (not so lucky cuz the last two times I've worn them with the shoes I had on I've either tripped or almost tripped), my new suit coat and my silky red shirt with my fleur de lis earrings and fleur de lis necklace on... with my fleur de lis wrist tatt safely tucked under my long sleeved shirt :) Anyways, the first interview went crappily. It was for a position with housing, so I didn't really care that much because if they offered me a position I'd be hard pressed to take it. At the same time I was like, Wow, is this interview going to set the tone for the rest of the day? I wanted to go sit in a corner and cry somewhere. It was like, Ok, this is your life... you are failing at your life. My phone was dying so I was only able to talk to Mom and my Mentor for like 2 seconds apiece. I had to pull it back together so I asked God to help me... last night I asked the Holy Spirit to go before me and set things up. The next 5 interviews went great (I cancelled one of them). One lady even broke formality and asked me about my fleur de lis, since I had so many on...I didn't show her the tatt though. On about 2 or 3 of the 6 interviews I really felt like the positions were a good fit for me and I vibed quite well with my interviewers. If anything was clear it was that I pretty much knew I had chosen the right kind of Master's Program this time around. I'm excited about the Fall... After the interviews I tripped across the street in front of everyone on my way to the bookstore but I managed to play it off and actually not feel embarassed about it, which was cool... I did laugh at myself though, and I saw some sistas laughing. That was ok, because if I were them I would have laughed at me all professional looking, yet about to be sprawled out in the middle of the street at a busy intersection. As soon as interviews were over, I went back to my host's house, got dressed, gassed up Dusty (my car) and started back to ATL about 24hrs after I had arrived there.
~Closer~
All I did was drive and think, drive and think some more while scanning stations. All I could think about was that I was glad the weekend was over, and I felt like I had accomplished something all by myself (with God of course) and that made me feel good. However, the closer I got to ATL I started thinking about how I didn't have anyone to come home to, didn't really have that physical companion/advocate that I've been hoping on hope for a while would come along...soon. No, I'd just be returning to my empty apartment, Me, Myself, and God and I prayed that in the near future I could be ok with that, content with my situation enough to not even think about my situation but just to accept it for what it is, where I'm at now. I also knew that maybe that day, that moment, wasn't my moment for that but that I'd would come. A few hours outside of Tallahassee, a familiar song came on: "Closer" by Goapele, actually one of my favorite songs. Here are the lyrics:
"Closer" ~Goapele
Closer to my dreams
It's coming over me
I'm gettin' higher
Closer to my dreams
I'm getting higher and higher
Feel it in my sleep
Some times it feels like I'll never go pass here
Some times it feels like I'm stuck forever and ever
But, I'm going higher
Closer to my dreams
I'm goin' higher and higher
I can almost reach
Some times you just have to let it go (Let it go, let it go)
Leaving all my fears to burn down
Push them all away so I can move on
Closer to my dreams
Feel it all over my being
Close your eyes and see what you believe
I'm happy as long as we're apart
Then I'm moving on to my dreams
I'll be moving higher (Moving higher)
Closer to my dreams
And higher and higher, higher
Feel it in my being (I can feel it flow around me)
I know that I could not go alone (No, no)
I'm moving higher (Higher), oh...
I'm going higher and higher and higher (Higher and
Higher)
Closer to my dreams (Higher and higher, oh...oh...)
I'm moving upward and onward and beyond all I can see
(Stretching out my arms so I can reach)
Feels so close it's like i can just reach
I can feel my dreams (Closer to my dreams)
I'm moving closer to my dreams
I'm moving (Higher and higher) higher and higher
(Higher and higher)
Moving higher, oh...
Some times it feels like you never gon'change (Never gon'change)
But you never choose to walk away
***end of lyrics***
Then it dawned on me that I was actually moving closer to my dreams and looking my fears dead in the eye, my fear of always being single (which I translate as 'alone' but really it isn't), my fear of stepping out to the front and taking the reigns leading undergraduates as a graduate student. A lot of those positions I interviewed for sounded semi-scary like stuff I knew I could probably do if I tried but it would take a few HUGE steps out of my comfort zone. Hell, driving to Tallahassee all by my damn self and back the following day after all that stress was a step outside of my comfort bubble. I really did burst through some of the chains that I allow to limit my abilities and my potential. My mom says she's so proud of me and I tell her that I did it because I knew I had to, but I forget that some people aren't blessed with such support and vision and that knowing sense of "I have to do this to get to where I want to be."
~The Road to Contentment~
For a moment there I was actually content with where I was, singing my song, in my car alone, on my way to my empty apartment, with my phone that rarely rings. I can see myself becoming the girl that no longer buys into the fairytale of 'finding that someone.' Yeah, deep down inside, hope hasn't completely died out, but like Proverbs 13:12 says "Hope deferred makes the heart sick..." and when hope in finding that someone has been deferred for you as many times as it has been for me it really is like "Why hope anymore?" so I try not to think about it and keep busy (I also refuse to watch Romance or Romantic Comedies), trying to learn to hope only in Jesus, but also have faith in His plans for me (Jeremiah 29:11). It's just that I can't help but feel most of the time that the whole me+guy+God relationship thing is a dream that I'll never get 'closer' to and it hurts to even consider it positively or negatively. I'm tired of caring about it. I wish I didn't care that I'm usually alone and that I frequently 'take myself' to places to see performances and out to eat. So yep, that's what 23 looks like for me: Triumphant on the professional side, making progress on the God side (even though I didn't talk much at all about our relationship), and confronted with the reality of being me and still getting acquainted with my own company and, by the grace of God, daily getting closer to being 'ok' with that... yes, some day I know I'll feel ok about it. But for today I'll still cringe when happy-coupled people try to instill courage in me with their "You'll meet him someday. I met Bob when I least expected it." That's the kind of stuff I used to tell people when I had a boyfriend, so I'm not trying to hear that. That does nothing to change the fact that I am the person who keeps me company and that's only going to intensify when I move to Florida in a couple of months, and I'm praying to God that I'll be ready for that when that time gets here... I guess He's preparing me now.
~Bittersweet~
But yeah, that's me... that's where I am today fighting to remind myself how blessed I am and how God seems to be ordering my steps so far. So forgive me if I don't dress up or seem too excited when you wish me Happy Birthday and ask me about the plans that I purposely did not make today ( I did make some for tomorrow though). It's just another birthday, Thank you Jesus I made it... but on the other hand, whoopty freaking do, don't remind me. I guess, in short, it's just...b i t t e r s w e e t, and, just like I don't feel the need to impress anyone with my permed hair anymore, I don't feel the need to sugarcoat it with well-meaning, heart-unfelt dialogue on how fabulous today is.
~Thank You~
For all of you who genuinely care about me, I promise that even though I just wrote a long, conflicted, highly cynical-yet-realistic message about how I feel like my birthday sucks, I'm ok. It's nice to know that I'm loved and am blessed to have people to love back.
Posted on 3.2.2007 at 1:35 AM
So, you might know that I'm at Georgia State in a School Psychology Master's/Ed. Specialist program, but what you might not know is that by the 4th week into the program I realized that I hated it... then I made arrangements to apply to Higher Education Administration Master's Program (I would like to be a Dean of Students some day). I applied to Florida State University (one of the highest ranked in the nation) and to University of Tennessee as a back-up school. A week after turning in my FSU application I found out that I was accepted into their program (a few days later UT told me they'd waitlist me, but who cares...their program isn't ranked).
Visiting FSU
I drove to Tallahassee this past Sunday (yes, 6hrs) for FSU's Higher Ed. Visiting Days to see what FSU and it's people were like and to interview for assisstantships for the coming year(s). I got there on Sunday around 4:30pm and was almost immediately plunged into this reception with prospective students, professors and employers (who would be interviewing us the following day)... Needless to say, after driving 6hrs alone in the rain (safely thank God) I was not trying to be social and sell myself to any of the employers there or to the other prospective students so I chilled, ate my food, stepped out to talk to my fam on the phone... all the complete opposite of what I should have been trying to do, but I have to be me. I hate meeting people and trying to 'act' bubbly because I'm actually tired and need a second to get myself back together, like at that reception. But anyways, my host was great she was ready to leave when I was and was prepared to answer any questions I had for her... since I was interviewing at 8:30 the next morning. Monday was stressful as crap, I was scheduled for 7 half-hour interviews with various Student Affairs employees for Assistantships (to gain experience and have school paid for) so this was a big deal. I had to be on point, so I had on my 'lucky' wide pants (not so lucky cuz the last two times I've worn them with the shoes I had on I've either tripped or almost tripped), my new suit coat and my silky red shirt with my fleur de lis earrings and fleur de lis necklace on... with my fleur de lis wrist tatt safely tucked under my long sleeved shirt :) Anyways, the first interview went crappily. It was for a position with housing, so I didn't really care that much because if they offered me a position I'd be hard pressed to take it. At the same time I was like, Wow, is this interview going to set the tone for the rest of the day? I wanted to go sit in a corner and cry somewhere. It was like, Ok, this is your life... you are failing at your life. My phone was dying so I was only able to talk to Mom and my Mentor for like 2 seconds apiece. I had to pull it back together so I asked God to help me... last night I asked the Holy Spirit to go before me and set things up. The next 5 interviews went great (I cancelled one of them). One lady even broke formality and asked me about my fleur de lis, since I had so many on...I didn't show her the tatt though. On about 2 or 3 of the 6 interviews I really felt like the positions were a good fit for me and I vibed quite well with my interviewers. If anything was clear it was that I pretty much knew I had chosen the right kind of Master's Program this time around. I'm excited about the Fall... After the interviews I tripped across the street in front of everyone on my way to the bookstore but I managed to play it off and actually not feel embarassed about it, which was cool... I did laugh at myself though, and I saw some sistas laughing. That was ok, because if I were them I would have laughed at me all professional looking, yet about to be sprawled out in the middle of the street at a busy intersection. As soon as interviews were over, I went back to my host's house, got dressed, gassed up Dusty (my car) and started back to ATL about 24hrs after I had arrived there.
~Closer~
All I did was drive and think, drive and think some more while scanning stations. All I could think about was that I was glad the weekend was over, and I felt like I had accomplished something all by myself (with God of course) and that made me feel good. However, the closer I got to ATL I started thinking about how I didn't have anyone to come home to, didn't really have that physical companion/advocate that I've been hoping on hope for a while would come along...soon. No, I'd just be returning to my empty apartment, Me, Myself, and God and I prayed that in the near future I could be ok with that, content with my situation enough to not even think about my situation but just to accept it for what it is, where I'm at now. I also knew that maybe that day, that moment, wasn't my moment for that but that I'd would come. A few hours outside of Tallahassee, a familiar song came on: "Closer" by Goapele, actually one of my favorite songs. Here are the lyrics:
"Closer" ~Goapele
Closer to my dreams
It's coming over me
I'm gettin' higher
Closer to my dreams
I'm getting higher and higher
Feel it in my sleep
Some times it feels like I'll never go pass here
Some times it feels like I'm stuck forever and ever
But, I'm going higher
Closer to my dreams
I'm goin' higher and higher
I can almost reach
Some times you just have to let it go (Let it go, let it go)
Leaving all my fears to burn down
Push them all away so I can move on
Closer to my dreams
Feel it all over my being
Close your eyes and see what you believe
I'm happy as long as we're apart
Then I'm moving on to my dreams
I'll be moving higher (Moving higher)
Closer to my dreams
And higher and higher, higher
Feel it in my being (I can feel it flow around me)
I know that I could not go alone (No, no)
I'm moving higher (Higher), oh...
I'm going higher and higher and higher (Higher and
Higher)
Closer to my dreams (Higher and higher, oh...oh...)
I'm moving upward and onward and beyond all I can see
(Stretching out my arms so I can reach)
Feels so close it's like i can just reach
I can feel my dreams (Closer to my dreams)
I'm moving closer to my dreams
I'm moving (Higher and higher) higher and higher
(Higher and higher)
Moving higher, oh...
Some times it feels like you never gon'change (Never gon'change)
But you never choose to walk away
***end of lyrics***
Then it dawned on me that I was actually moving closer to my dreams and looking my fears dead in the eye, my fear of always being single (which I translate as 'alone' but really it isn't), my fear of stepping out to the front and taking the reigns leading undergraduates as a graduate student. A lot of those positions I interviewed for sounded semi-scary like stuff I knew I could probably do if I tried but it would take a few HUGE steps out of my comfort zone. Hell, driving to Tallahassee all by my damn self and back the following day after all that stress was a step outside of my comfort bubble. I really did burst through some of the chains that I allow to limit my abilities and my potential. My mom says she's so proud of me and I tell her that I did it because I knew I had to, but I forget that some people aren't blessed with such support and vision and that knowing sense of "I have to do this to get to where I want to be."
~The Road to Contentment~
For a moment there I was actually content with where I was, singing my song, in my car alone, on my way to my empty apartment, with my phone that rarely rings. I can see myself becoming the girl that no longer buys into the fairytale of 'finding that someone.' Yeah, deep down inside, hope hasn't completely died out, but like Proverbs 13:12 says "Hope deferred makes the heart sick..." and when hope in finding that someone has been deferred for you as many times as it has been for me it really is like "Why hope anymore?" so I try not to think about it and keep busy (I also refuse to watch Romance or Romantic Comedies), trying to learn to hope only in Jesus, but also have faith in His plans for me (Jeremiah 29:11). It's just that I can't help but feel most of the time that the whole me+guy+God relationship thing is a dream that I'll never get 'closer' to and it hurts to even consider it positively or negatively. I'm tired of caring about it. I wish I didn't care that I'm usually alone and that I frequently 'take myself' to places to see performances and out to eat. So yep, that's what 23 looks like for me: Triumphant on the professional side, making progress on the God side (even though I didn't talk much at all about our relationship), and confronted with the reality of being me and still getting acquainted with my own company and, by the grace of God, daily getting closer to being 'ok' with that... yes, some day I know I'll feel ok about it. But for today I'll still cringe when happy-coupled people try to instill courage in me with their "You'll meet him someday. I met Bob when I least expected it." That's the kind of stuff I used to tell people when I had a boyfriend, so I'm not trying to hear that. That does nothing to change the fact that I am the person who keeps me company and that's only going to intensify when I move to Florida in a couple of months, and I'm praying to God that I'll be ready for that when that time gets here... I guess He's preparing me now.
~Bittersweet~
But yeah, that's me... that's where I am today fighting to remind myself how blessed I am and how God seems to be ordering my steps so far. So forgive me if I don't dress up or seem too excited when you wish me Happy Birthday and ask me about the plans that I purposely did not make today ( I did make some for tomorrow though). It's just another birthday, Thank you Jesus I made it... but on the other hand, whoopty freaking do, don't remind me. I guess, in short, it's just...b i t t e r s w e e t, and, just like I don't feel the need to impress anyone with my permed hair anymore, I don't feel the need to sugarcoat it with well-meaning, heart-unfelt dialogue on how fabulous today is.
~Thank You~
For all of you who genuinely care about me, I promise that even though I just wrote a long, conflicted, highly cynical-yet-realistic message about how I feel like my birthday sucks, I'm ok. It's nice to know that I'm loved and am blessed to have people to love back.
Posted on 3.2.2007 at 1:35 AM
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