I was never the partying type, certainly not a drinker. It just wasn't my thing, I always felt like I was on the outside looking in and not getting what the big deal was or the full picture. Long story short, I was too insecure to break out of myself and get free, but all that changed. Almost a year ago after getting out of one of the worst situations I have ever voluntarily placed myself in, I started partying. It felt liberating, it was a high that lasted forever and it was something that pumped so much adrenaline in me. I was finally happy again, dancing, enjoying myself and not caring what anyone thought. I'd been through so many things that a lot of people wouldn't comprehend, so I doubt the celebration process would be understand. It felt like riding a bike, wind blowing all around while you pick up speed leaving whatever troubles behind you. I was addicted. I found myself going out at least 2 times a week, just enjoying happiness, and indulging in others'. Can you imagine being so happy that the happiness of other's just prolonged the high. I was in heaven.
This was all halfway into my 23rd year, around the time when most people start slowing down and become homebodies. I couldn't explain it, I didn't want to and still don't feel the need to. It's not the party life that hooked me, it was being able to be myself in a public place while being unapologetic and taking off my cool, feeling alive after wanting so much death. Becoming a party animal turned into a new way to express my love for myself, and I'm so happy I found it.
Monday, August 11, 2014
Monday, March 25, 2013
Assata starts out getting arrested in New Jersey, and after months of being pulled, slapped and treated horribly around in the judicial system. Her story reads rightfully angry as she jumps back and forth through the story's present time and her childhood. Assata's time jumps kept me interested and pulled me in as I learned about her life and foundation as a woman, along with how she kept that same foundation and morals as an adult. I believe what I enjoy the most about her story is how hopeful she was about having her child despite her current conditions and how much of a badass she was during her court trial and jail time. She stood for what she believed in no matter how many court marshalls and jail security guards tried to break her.
Her story is inspiring to me as a young black woman, although I may not have faced the same adversaries as Assata, it shows me that no matter what is thrown my way not to break my ground and have my demands met. Giving it is too easy, fight for what you want and even if you don't get it, at least you went down with a fight.
Monday, March 4, 2013
I've always wanted a sister circle. Two or three women who loved me unconditionally as a sister, and wanted the best for me. I've come across a lot of women in my lifetime, but none of them have been "sisterly" to say the least. I've wondered a few times why this is the case, should I be more patient? Or maybe I'm not looking hard enough, or being open enough but at 22 I'd hope to be about 3 years in. Sometimes I wonder if my generation values sisterhood, I see tons of cattiness, jealousy, and downright hatred, but never any love or genuine support systems. Why is this? Has anyone else ever felt like this? Does anyone else feel the need and importance of a sister circle? Sometimes it really can be all we have, and although there might be ups and downs, it's nice to know that you have people who genuinely love you and are willing to help you grow, build and succeed spiritually, mentally, and support your endeavors. Sister circle, where art thou?
Sunday, February 24, 2013
Wednesday, February 6, 2013
I've had a lot of days when I didn't feel pretty, probably even more when I felt downright ugly. Needless to say, these were not my best days. Learning to love myself just the way that I am, no makeup, #nofilter, hair undone and crust in my eye was one of the hardest yet most rewarding things I have ever done. I've felt ugly so many times by the words of others, until one day I looked in the mirror and realized that I am the shit. No one can make me feel inferior, ugly or anything less than beautiful without my consent. I created, cultivated and grew a new sense of confidence. A confidence that could not be moved by any force outside of me, something that I could call my own. I began to make myself beautiful on the inside so that it would have no choice but to radiate outward. Now I look in the mirror and see the same beautiful face everyday, instead of picking flaws I admire not only my facial features but my body as well. I love myself, and I adore myself without being obsessed with myself. That balance in itself is beautiful. Have you loved yourself today?