Dear Readers,
This post is very unexpected and is more of a personal release of energy for me and less of a debatable topic. I began writing before I even knew what the headline would be...I put pen to paper and it just felt right. Halfway through writing the title hit me, “I’m Still Standing”. Those three words hold so much power in my life. This black woman has been on the battlefield from a young age and I will admit that I have some days now when I feel like I’m still at war but at the end of it all I can confidently say that I am still standing on my two feet. Hate me or love me...WHATEVERRRR!!! I will continue to live my life.
I Conquer, I Work, I Love, I Struggle, I Fight, you name it and I have either done it or I am doing it.
“You may write me down in history with your bitter and twisted lies, you may trod me in the very dirt but still, like dust, I’ll rise. Did you want to see me broken? Bowed head and lowered eyes? Shoulders falling down like teardrops, weakened by my soulful cries. You may shoot me with your words, you may cut me with your eyes, you may kill me with your hatefulness but still, like air, I’ll rise”. - Maya Angelou
I remember being 9 years old, living in Jamaica, venturing out on daily explorations with my younger sister. I was the original Dora The Explorer, bag pack and all, fearless and carefree hahaha with swipper no swipeyyyy type of vibes. We would pick star apples, tambourine, stinking toe (this had the fluffiest and nastiest taste and I’m almost certain it wasn’t to be eaten) *rolls eyes at my fellow Jamaicans* and play with the strange insects that lingered. However, grandma had always warned us about the ’40 Leg’ otherwise known as a centipede. I haven’t done any research to see if this is actually true or not but we were always told that if this insect were to ever bite us, we would surely die. HAHAHA!!!! We would roam around on the acres of land that surrounded grandma’s house with no direct plan of action, just our curious minds at work. Let me just add that as a grown ass woman you would never catch this Dora playing with any form of insects and the fearless has become the fearful. Sometimes I wish I could just rewind back to the old days and press pause...just for a while.
On one particular day, I can remember sitting and watching my dog Angel as she was giving birth to her eight (8) pups in a hole under a tree and in that same moment turning around and eating four (4) of them. Yes, she literally began eating her pups. I was amused by the birthing process but confused at the same time by death. Life was fascinatingly terrifying but it was during this time that I felt the most at peace. Far from perfect but peaceful all the same. The little girl dressed in red is me and her smile remained pressed to her face even on the days when she didn’t feel like smiling. Even when the world around her was changing, she adapted and embraced it all with a smile.
Fast forward a year later, it was December 1999 and my sister and I are driving to Norman Manley Airport with dad, ready to take on a new adventure that was England. This was the biggest of them all, there was a whole new world out there that we had only ever imagined. Who else can remember when you had to walk out on the tarmac at the airport to actually board the plane in Jamaica? Ohhh how times have really changed. I remember looking back at my father and seeing the tears flow down his face, heartbroken, as his daughters left him for what would begin to feel like a lifetime. To this day, I wonder what life would’ve been like if I had never boarded that flight. Where would I be now? Who would I be? These thoughts are never intended to sound ungrateful, I am very grateful to my mother for all that she has sacrificed so that I was able have a decent chance at life. What she has single-handedly accomplished as a woman who had seven (7) children to fend for is nothing short of a miracle. To her I owe the gratitude for the ‘hustler’ in me. I learned from the best!
Out of boredom, at the age of 12 I began reading any book I could get my hands on and writing poems...the silliest little poems but poems all the same. Did anyone else listen to music for hours only to write down the lyrics? I had a black folder full of all my favourite song lyrics, neatly placed in various plastic wallets and in alphabetical order. HAHA just know that I am now grateful for YouTube and internet access. My mum wasn’t playing like that, she only purchased what we needed, the bare essentials, no f*cks could be given for the items we wanted purely for our own pleasures. Nevertheless, I am forever grateful for the lessons that I learned in these moments because it has definitely shaped me into the woman I am today. Writing quickly became the only way I knew how to completely express my inner thoughts, it was the only way this shy young girl knew how to tell you something without saying it to your face lol. I’m still that girl who writes love letters and love notes to her man or randomly send a lengthy text bearing my whole heart. Starting this blog page has allowed me to go back to where I feel the most comfortable, where I feel the happiest and at peace. It gives me such great pleasure to pick up my notepad and just let my pen guide me whether my posts are read by 5 or 500 readers. This is me!
Do you ever have days where you wake up and just feel like you don’t belong?
I wake up in a world that sometimes feels so alien to me, so very foreign and I have spent years running in every direction that often landed me in trouble far worst than what I was trying to escape. In all honesty, I was running away from ME!! Time after time I sat there stuck in a trance, in a gear that didn’t exist and all I am wanting now is peace. The kind of peace that allows you to stand on the sea-line shores with the water gushing against your ankles as you gaze into the distance, letting the evening breeze take you in. You can close your eyes and use your mind to see anything, to be anywhere, you can hear the waves, feel the breeze and taste the cherries in your pina colada. How often do you use this power?
I often get admired for my strength and even though I am touched by the compliments, that same strength is sometimes a downfall. I am expected to remain strong through all adversities and some days I just want to be weak, to be cared for and tended to, told that everything will be ok. I wear a ’S’ on my chest like Superman for my two children who are watching and emulating me but at the end of it all I am only human and I am flawed. I make mistakes like any other being but I am consciously trying to be better than I was yesterday.
Thank you to all who take the time out to read my words and live in the moments with me. I have been spoiled with love and support and for that I am forever grateful.
See you in my next post.
