Becoming New

A lot of people change their behavior around the New Year...or so they try. I'll be the first to say New Year's Resolutions have not been something I've mastered. But for once, I'm really trying.

Over the last few months, I've had to get real with who I am and who I am trying to be. People will say: "you are who you are!" I don't agree. I believe everyone has the power to change and improve for the better, especially if they're not liking what their experiencing. I won't go into detail about all of my changes, but one of them is moving in silence.  This one thing was something I did not regularly due, and I believe that it caused a lot of missed opportunities.

I've always been the type of girl who gets very happy and so excited that, I just have to tell someone! We are human...we always want others to share in our happiness. We think our joy is theirs and vice versa, but it is not.  Sometimes, when we share our successes with others, they're not rooting for us, but quietly waiting with a dagger in hand.  The more literal translation or an example of this is telling a "friend " about a business venture and them stealing the idea before you could even act. This didn't happen to me, but that was the closest thing I could think of.

Also, when I think about reactions I've had to events in my love life, I think I could've done better. No, that doesn't mean I shouldn't have felt what I felt, because I was certainly justified...but maybe, I could have used a journal rather than putting my douchebag dudes on front street.  I'm continuously learning that the best revenge moves silently. The best revenge is doing you, head high, heels hitting the pavement, continuing the slay and excel. It is not your duty to make them regret; time is the great equalizer.

I had to get real about why I was angry, shocked, and appalled when dumb shit happened. The real: I'm a jaded woman. Experiences, people, and relationships contributed to my demeanor and how I handled things.  I had to step outside of my victimized self, and stop waiting for the moment I was going to have to initiate the block when the blows from the hardships of failed courtships came. I had to be honest and realize that I had been carrying some bags around with me, that were filled with bricks. Carrying those heavy bags made me tired and irritable.  Adopting an attitude of "You ain't gonna do this to me!" was the way I defended myself.

But after countless conversations with God (that surely didn't start this year, I know HIM), my grandmother, and spiritual teacher, I think I ready to put those bags down, open my hands from those tight fists, and be who I am meant to be. That person is happy, she is successful, she is beautiful. She receives abundance and blessings. She trusts herself. She deserves love and by gum, she's going to get it!

I realize that this post may not have a central theme but I thought it was important to share with my readers that every day we can become new. Everyday we become who we want to be. It's not always easy, but it can be done.

Breaking Camp: When a Black Woman is Fed Up

Last night, I watched the premier of To Rome With Love, the new series on Bravo that follows black women on a quest for love in Italy.

Yes Italy!

As I watched and listened to the stories of each of the women, (don't ask me to write their names because I can't remember),  there were a few common themes: infidelity by their husbands which lead to divorce, abusive relationships, or having so many unfavorable experiences that the women became jaded and lost hope on finding romance.  I also noticed another theme: these black women had been married to or had these experiences with black men.  Hence, why they were in Italy trying something new.

Now before anyone thinks I'm going to be the angry black woman and attack black men, I'm gonna tell you that I am a little bitter, which might make me a bit critical. So, if you find yourself uncomfortable with what I am about to say, then you know how to find  another blog. Just saying.

I normally do not watch reality tv because of the awful representations of black women, but this one caught my eye because it touched on a real issue: it is often hard for black women in America to find and keep a compatible mate. Sure, there is a "lack" of black men just due to us outnumbering them, but in my experience, I just haven't always had the best experiences with them when it comes to relationships.  I have experienced the same exact things each of the women talked about, but the main thing has been the lack of men that want to settle down. 
I related to many of the women who were jaded because I recently cut ties with someone I had given some of my teens, twenties, and regretfully the first two years of my thirties, to.  I won't lie, I waited for this man to commit knowing damn well he never would...but would just keep doing enough to keep me hanging on.  Now, someone may look at that situation and say "Girl, that's all your fault, " and I respectfully, partially, accept that.  However, if someone is straight up with you from day one saying they want to be your A-1, and you knew they could only ever be Great Value steak sauce, why wouldn't you just leave them alone?

But this post is not about playing second fiddle, it's about what happens when black women get tired.  We break camp and date across our race.... and for some weird ass reason, we get ridiculed for it.  Meghan Markle, Serena Williams, Paula Patton, Zoe Saldana, Halle Berry and countless others.  I don't know all of their backstories with black men but I can bet if we sat down in room together, we might have something to bond over. I, too, have dated outside my race and been approached by men of other ethnicities, and while I have to say I am still partial to chocolate, I had been treated differently by these men, I never felt worried that they were going to size up my best friend, they were playing me and other women, or that I wasn't attractive enough.  To be honest, had the cultural barrier been overcome in some cases, I could've seen myself in lasting relationships with some of them. 

 Why is it that black women are not allowed to ask black men to do better for us and with us? Our concerns are cast aside... a lot of times because there is a woman of another ethnicity waiting in the wings, to put up with what we won't.  I say, if that's the way it is, so be it...and we need to get ours too. But damn me and my sweet tooth, and my love of chocolate in all shades! I suppose that's why I have cavities...maybe I've had enough.

I don't know if I could ever truly give up on my brothas, but I really wish they would do right by me. Le Sigh.

Ancestry DN-Heyyyy! For Real???

So I finally broke down and took the Ancestry DNA test.

And I found out that no part of this brown body is Native American, about 18% of this body is British (Britain, Ireland, Scotland and Wales), 76% of this body is of the Motherland (Africa, duh), and sporadic portions of me belong to Germany, Asia, Italy, and Greece.

Most of this lines up with stuff I was told as a kid by my parents, who always informed me I was a bit mixed in some ways, though they always put strong emphasis on "being proud to be black." I always was but I was curious too.  It has been a roller coaster ride each day, discovering cousins, many of whom are White as the driven snow popping up in my tree. My most monumental finding was definitive proof that my 3rd great grandfather was a slave who was fathered by someone in his owner's family, as that family matched "very high" with my dna.

I am still waiting to solve some other mysteries, like the one of my maternal great grandad who has remained an elusive figure in our family.  It is also, so strange to see people who share no common last names with you popping up as 2nd, 3rd, and 4th cousins.  The only thing we have in common is the color of our skin.  I ponder over these relationships and realize that through them, I see my ancestors; our kinship more often than not is the result of families being separated during slavery...some who's names were changed when they were sold to new masters and bonds broken when they were forced to start new families.

I have also been taken aback by the kindness of a few of my White cousins.  One even messaged me and said "Hi Cousin!" Others, whom I messaged when finding the connection, still haven't responded...maybe they are busy, maybe they don't want to know.

Either way, knowing exactly what I am and who I am,  has really enlightened me. Through this test, I validated my reasons for loving Irish bands, speaking with British accents, connecting heavily with Yaa Gyasi's book The Homegoing, and so much more.  I can't wait to see what else I find along this journey and who else I will meet!

Comfort When You're Uncomfortable

Reflecting back on my 2017, I think the theme would be: Finding Comfort When You're Uncomfortable.

This phrase has applied to various of my life; socially, mentally, physically...at work, in public, in love, and more.  Things have not always been so comfortable and I have found myself being forced out of my comfort zone many times.  In my new role at work, I have had to find my way and it's been a trial and error process.  In the social world, I've had to suck it up and go to events by myself and actually talk to folks. In love...well we're still figuring that out.

I have come to this place of knowing that yes, things are going to be a little scary, a little awkward, and a bit frustrating, but in the end it'll all turn out fine. You really do have to ask yourself: 1) What's the worst that can happen? And 2) Why do I feel unsure? Do I have any solid proof that this isn't going to work?

Better yet, don't ask yourself anything if you can.  That can cause a whole new world of discomfort.  The mind, though familiar, can be confining and like a prison cell when we spend too much time there.  Instead, jump right in and just experience all the things that life has to offer.

Here's to a comfortable 2018.