52 Essays 2018: Indifference

There is a feeling,
it used to be numb.

A cold blanket,
spread over my whole being
that was made by the sweetest grandma. With
color,
details,
countless needle pricks.
What a beautiful job grandma!
It covers me grey and tattered,
stretched and soiled.

There is a feeling I feel;
it used to be passion.

Aires fire fumes through my nostrils.
Thoughts, words and feelings strike my mind
but my quick witted ways never caught up with age.
There is a storm of expression and frustration fighting above my head.
It get violent;
I want to cry,
but I drink water to stop the flames.
All of this dies out as it
fizzles
out
until even the smoke is gone.
Quiet.

There is a feeling that I feel:
indifference.

52 Essays 2018: I Had So Much Champange!

What a fun weekend! Although I'm cutting back on going out, this weekend was a worthwhile exception. Going out after a long week of work and responsibilities is always appreciated; and it is best to cap off the night by having the best time possible. What does a real good time look like? For me, it's when I'm around cool and interesting people, the DJ is setting the vibe proper, I get hit on and there's great drinks with sober up food to end the escapades. Not to brag, but all these were checked off this weekend! To top it all off, I had champagne both nights out! The brand is unbeknownst to me, but it did it's job! 

Champagne is a drink in it's own lane. This is the alcoholic beverage that emulates sophistication, status, glam, celebration and memorable moments. To come across some candidly with no special occasion is an anomaly that must be taken advantage of. A friend had VIP access at an up and coming bar in Williamsburg, so there was a complimentary bottle of champagne. Honestly, it was very cool to be treated like special guests. Our cheers was amidst folks dancing, drinking, laughing and taking in the space. While this spot was fun, two other locations were visited, building the momentum of the night. Friday was about the dancing, but socializing and drinking champagne was the majority of Saturday night. 

One of the perks of living in New York is that meeting interesting people is common. Whether they have an unique job, customized living space, unusual trade, savant intellect or whatever else stands out, they're many different and interesting people in this state. Last night, I was acquainted with a gentleman who had a dog that was weirdly attached to me and had a lot of champagne in his home bar. My friend and I ended our evening in his home, talking and sipping bubbly. For me, champagne is a drink that doesn't require a 2 glass limit; if it did I would've been in a world of trouble last night. My friend and I went through a few bottles with this man and his other friends. An event was occurring on the rooftop of the building, and we went up there to have even more champagne among others sipping champagne. As vain as it may be, I felt very cool and had so much fun! I'll never advocate for abusing alcohol, but I wanted to share this weekend and how champagne was a common denominator. A correlation between champagne and elitism can be made. While I am and never intend to identify as an elitist, my night paralleled with things the upper echelon engage in. It was cool to have a couple of nights like these, especially since I'm cutting back on partying. Making sure the night was worthwhile felt good since I felt a little guilty about being out after declaring to reserve my weekends for rest and writing. So, the adventure fun and I'll be excited to see another glass of champagne, just not for a while.

P.S. Alcohol is not to be played with. I am a social drinker; you won't find a bottle, or even a can, of alcohol in my home. If you drink past the point of sobriety, make sure you get home safely and are around people you know and trust. This was an honest and personal experience of mine; and I do not in any way intend to endorse alcoholism or irresponsible drink consumption. Essentially, I'm saying in lengthy fashion, drink responsibly.

52 Essays 2018: Guys Suck

I'm sorry I hate to keep being that "men are trash" aunty, but I really cannot deal with how many guys conduct themselves. There's a few factors as to why I have such a sour sentiment on them: men in my life, men I've dated and men I've heard about gave me that. Of course it's a lie that all men are trash, but so many are making good men seem like mythical creatures in childhood fables.

Coming across good guys shouldn't be such an uphill battle. Neither should checking trash men o their trash tendencies. I'd even be content if I came across good guys that's not interested in me! But all the men I meet lack a sense of respect and value for women, not even for the woman they're dating. This is of course a generalization in the heterosexual spectrum of relationships, but the methodology is telling. I believe there is a sense of manipulation men inherently have because we're functioning in a patriarchy. Growing up, it was obvious in my household.

Seeing the way my father would raise his voice at my mom, but never seeing her raise her voice back, was clear evidence of such. He felt he didn't have to filter his anger while she did. This manifested onto my older brother one evening driving from the mall when he not only yelled in my mom's presence, but cussed too. The way we raise our boys is one that gives them a sense of superiority over women. They don't have to consider the woman while going through their process, but the woman's concern should only be the man. I know they are able to show love and appreciation to their lady, but looking at their relationships, I would be discontent with areas lacking respect.

My dating life is pretty tragic. The only official relationship I had ended in me blocking his number various times and moving from my old apartment. Maybe I am too earnest, giving the benefit of the doubt too often, but men I've come across have disappointed me in major ways. Aside from not giving me commitment, they had bad natures about them. Most left me feeling used, unimportant, lucky to have them around at all and perpetually damaged. Relationships don't have to be successful, but the process shouldn't hurt psychologically. What is it about men, that when they walk away from a prospective love, that candidate typically feels awful about themselves? Men have to be aware of their narcissism.

The countless stories about celebrity males cheating or abusing their gorgeous partners doesn't help either. So often, these gorgeous women hold everything the average man expects from a woman, yet they still fall victim to infidelity and scandal within their relationship. Who wants to deal with a trash man, let alone on such a platform?! Once again, men have a problem. It's society's fault, but they must be accountable.

What does that mean for me? Honestly, I'm unsure. I never want to feel like I settled for less in my partner. A trusting and loving person is a fair expectation for each of us. But do most people compromise in fear of loneliness? Either way, there is enough of an effort for men to know they need to get it together. Hopefully I come across a man who goes against the grain. If not, I know when the trash days are!

52 Essays 2018: Confirmation of a Need to Surrender

How hard is it for you to let go? Whether it be a plan you plotted to a T, or a person you envisioned a life with, when do you know it's time to just stop and let it all go? Although I'm constantly reminded of my mortality and lack of control, there is still this false idea that everything and everyone I want will manifest itself onto me. While I'm firmly pro-affirmations and declarations, there is a dangerous level of daydreaming that I've recently learned I must let go of. 

Last month, a financial goal was hit! I paid off a debt; and I thought because I did I was entitled to more financial access. However, my bank teller gathered my false reality altogether. After such a gross misuse of money, why would I assume they'd give me greater opportunities to mess up my credit? Would they really just risk the chance of me falling into the same financial turmoil? The man was very nice to me, but it was very clear I had to start back my monies in a humble manner. This guided and helpful solution was one I was prepared to reject. Stubbornness is my Achilles heel. Once something has been planned and envisioned my way, it is extremely hard for me to let go of the control never given to me. When propositioned, initially, I rejected it and looked for what seemed deserved. I looked for my wants, but it just wasn't available. This is the reality of life many instances, what we want and what we've worked for are two entirely different things. 

Although reaching a financial goal was paramount, it doesn't do away the previous spending damage. I don't get to decide what is owed to me; there is a process for everything. So I had to humble myself and go back to that bank teller, set up my card, and continue working on the financial freedom I want. 

If there was any affirmation in this, it was the fortune cookie I opened up today. While some may say these things are fluff or evil, it definitely aligned with my experience that morning. I walked miles trying to avoid making that limited financial decision. Still, ultimately, I was led right back to where I needed to be. "Pride is a good thing to have, but don't overdose on it" is what that fortune read. Wow. What a way to remember humility is just as important as pride. This whole ordeal was a reminder, and I hope to continue letting go of essentially wishful thinking. I plan to see things for what they are; and if it's displeasing, work towards a better reality. Then I can take pride in what's mine, including my surrender. 

  

52 Essays 2018: Wow I Still Suck At This And It Snowed In November

So New York has a lot of explaining to do. Thanksgiving hasn't even gotten here yet, but snow wants to fall from the sky? Over three inches too?! Some people were excited, but this young lady gave this snow storm a disapproving frown. When I thought I was getting a hold of this seasonal depression, here comes a premature snow storm.

But who dubs it premature, me? The seasonal calendar that indicates it's still fall? Either way, it made me feel a way. I'm not sure if I was depressed, but it made me very aware that the year is ending. It made me aware that in less than two months, the year will be over, bringing us to another chapter in the book of life. 

This is a wake up call to me for many reasons. It reminded me that I in fact haven't been writing my essays. It's shown me that I live in a binary where I can acknowledge all the great I've done while deprecating the things I lack. This reminds me that time is ticking; and I want to make use of mine. 

A snow storm would bring out all of this; because think about what a snow storm is. Besides the obvious: cold, wet, sublime, snow storms are strong but calming, steady but rushing, halting but insightful. For me, snow storms bring out an abundance of feelings that I typically had been suppressing in the recent days. Still at 27, there is a struggle with expression. 

Stoicism haunts me. Why do I feel I can't show pain? We already know black women are typically given the strong and independent stigma, but there's this deeper personal layer I need to peel back. If I cannot express, those things I hold onto will continue to manifest itself in unhealthy ways. What is still stopping me from letting it out?

New York had no problem letting it out that Thursday. Most of the residents weren't feeling the snow, but guess what? It came. Even when my feelings may make others uncomfortable, even when people have to work around what I'm going through, it is still valid. It is still necessary. Suppression does no good and New York reminded me to let it out, despite the ramifications. Release doesn't have to be in anger or even passion, but it must be let out. For your sake and everyone else's. 

I am reminded to let go of what bothers me. My feelings are valid and important. They need to be explored for the sake of wellness. And most importantly, it allows people to really see each other. We really saw New York during that snow storm. Recent days have been cold, but New York let us know that we're in for colder days ahead. 

Well you know what? Bring it! 

52 Essays 2108: Don't Ever Lie on Me, Hun.

This guy went from defending Bill Cosby to lying on me. It was a hilarious moment that I could've totally avoided, but now I can seriously distance myself from this coward. He is a local artist that will probably never get the stature he wants, not because he isn't talented, but because he is an entitled hotep. He and I met last year at a music event. Since I music blog I connected with him, as I did all the other artists in the venue. But of course he is a womanizer and started to hit on me and trade snapchats. I won't act like I wasn't digging it; I definitely found him cute, but it wasn't that deep. My attendance that evening was to support an artist friend of mine and connect with other upcoming artists. Weeks later, I put out a general invitation to go hiking via social media, as I do with many other events I don't want to go to alone, and he took up the offer. 

As we were out there, there was of course flirting and whatnot, but that was that. Afterwards he started distancing himself saying he's going off the grid, which is fuhkboi terminology for " you're not opening you legs so I'm moving on". I was cool about it and fell back, but continued to support him musically. That would be by reposting his new music on my Instagram page. I already felt conflicted about supporting him because as we took the metro north upstate to hike, he already put a bad taste in my mouth with his homophobic and transphobic rantings. From that point I should've known he has an issue confronting the decolonization of his mind. He kept saying "if they want to do that, that's their business". And we know what type of headspace people who say that are in; it's that very problematic "I don't get it but as long as they keep it away from me they can do what they want" mentality that doesn't help the lgbtq community. Still, in hopes of trying to remain cool and potentially hold his interest again (sue me I kind if dug him), I kept following him.

So the clear misogyny with postings of "would rather be digging in your pussy but" as he works or something else to that same gross extent, still wasn't enough for me to act and separate myself from this person. But the last thing he did went too far. He posted a song he made about Bill Cosby. This is just in time for Bill Cosby getting his sentencing and beginning his jail serving. I was appalled that he would really defend that guy after not only Cosby confessing, but after so many women came out. Even with this recent Kavanaugh case, you would think men would sensitize themselves, but not this local artist.

I engaged in a pointless back and forth with him and kept it cute until he told me I should work for white supremacy (really me? Doe he even know who I am?). I then called out his foolishness and he made it about us, saying "he wasn't checking for me". I'm sorry what?! I think he forgot I was there too when he made all his moves. I unnecessarily rehashed out how things went, but he knows what happened. But gaslighting, the phenomenon of guys lying or changing the story around to fit their manipulative needs kept him pushing out his self righteous crap. He tried to make me out to be a thirsty and nasty girl. He tried to act like I went out of my way to get him. It's truly laughable because like I said, I was there too and remember what actually went down. I remember him saying if we did it, he would ejaculate in me. I remember every time I communicated with him afterwards, he tried to get me to come see him for sex. That's what happened, hun. And because your ego was crushed and I called you out on something wack, doesn't mean you get to lie on me. That's the easiest way to get more than your feelings hurt. 

Guys have to do better. You don't get to objectify women freely anymore. You don't get to manipulate women into thinking they're wrong and they should be the one apologizing to you. Of course he blocked me like the coward he is, because fuhkbois cannot face it when hey come across a woman who's broken away from those abusive gender norms. Ultimately, I'll be fine and he'll continue to spew his foolishness onto whoever is willing to listen; but it does suck. I really wish the optimism I kept about him could've resulted in him being better than that. And perhaps he will be someday. But as of now, I stand proud of calling him out and tickled that he took it personal and blocked me. 

52 Essays 2018: White Men Still Have To Do Better

At some point, everyone reaches their breaking point. This breaking point looks like a long, raging and reflective one for me. I'm learning to commit to these break throughs by being bold in the moments I act. An example is rather personal, but I feel I should speak on it. 

This moment was one of the most exhilarating moments of my life. I think what made it so special to me is that I was completely unwavering in my response. It may have appeared irrational or uncalled for, but I had to respond to ensure this problematic norm was called out. Growing up includes creating culture. In this society, there is a lot of culture that needs to be thrown away.

Essex street is the area for partying, primarily for cis straight white people who have no problem exhibiting their white privileges. Many times in this area, I feel like I am constantly on the defensive, due to the  many microaggresions that can be thrown my way. From white guys saying "they didn't know water was so expensive" to white girls coming up and grinding on me, as they ask to touch my "huge boobs" and wonder if I can show them how to twerk, this area could make even the most respectability politics loving black person uncomfortable. This is why I've greatly minimalized my time in said area, but recently I was there for a good friend's birthday party. The party itself was great, we had so much fun as a group and the birthday girl enjoyed her night. But before that I had an explosive moment that I could've left me feeling one of two ways. I could of either let that moment pass and suppressed my anger, letting it manifest at a later date in the wrong ways; or I could of done what I did. What I did was take back my control, call out the coward, and potentially ensure he leaves black women the hell alone.

So what happened? Let me tell y'all.

My friend and I were alone at one point as day time party friends went home and night time party friends were still en route. That transitional time can get weird; so we just walked to her friend's restaurant in the area. As we came towards the restaurant, there was a group of white guys coming towards us and a line filled with white kids awaiting entrance into the neighboring venue beside us. One of the white guys coming towards us says "yo yo yo yo", and does all these mocking arm gestures. It was subtle enough to let go; but I just couldn't. I reached my breaking point. I turned back to look at him and he was laughing and saying something to his friend while looking straight at me. What happened next was my release. It was my victory.

I don't wanna repeat what I said, but just know I made him feel the way he was trying to make my friend and I feel. And it felt damn good to do, especially as I watched him turn around so quickly and shut his mouth. He should've kept it shut from the beginning. The after feeling was even better, as white kids stared at me as if I had the issue; which was fine because they made sure to keep their mouths shut. My friend kind of shrugged and we went into her friend's restaurant and cheered at midnight to free champagne for her birthday.

The lesson I got from this, is that standing up for myself is always worth it. I truly hope that jerk thinks again before he tries to enact violence on black women through microaggressions. I hope those white kids who witnessed it realize black women aren't their doormats, punching bags or objects for one way interactions. And I hope my friend is encouraged to stand up for herself every time she is faced with the same kind of hate.