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. 

52 Essays 2018: Get In Where You MF Fit In

Life makes you feel that, inevitably, you're going to hang around people who don't really "see it for you". To me this is whack and doesn't have to be anyone's reality. We are owed spaces and places that view us as valuable. Personally, being a fat, black, queer woman has left me feeling like a burden many instances when I walk into a room. I'll either be greeted with contrived smiles or shameless glares. The discomfort is clear and so many times I've tried to normalize this happening. But how is this normal when walking into church, friend's homes, group hangouts and so on? Once again that's whack; and it's time to get in where you fit in.

Warning, a cheesy analogy follows. If you like to dance, you go where the dancers dance. You'll go to that dancehall or take a dance class. Perhaps you'll join a troupe or team. You want to be around like minded individuals that'll turn into your second family. We go places to find bonds we may not get at work or at places we're obligated to be. So what happens when you're in that space, and things don't play out in the embracing and loving fashion you'd imagine it to? Now you're confronted with the reality that this may not be a spot for you. Although you want to dance and this is a dancing space, this particular space isn't allowing you to be; and that's just not healthy. For whatever reason, the people in that space aren't receiving you well, and that is going to manifest in a poor manner. It is sad and fascinating how people make it a point to ostracize you from a space when all you want to do is exist positively. 

You got that annoying analogy (which I arbitrarily umbrella under misogyny), to avoid me being too telling about my own personal dilemma. But basically, a few people in a space I frequent clearly don't see it for me. It is disheartening because this space calls particularly to folks who've been shunned, shamed, isolated and oppressed. This is supposed to be a safe space, but we know by now safe spaces aren't real. Or at least not sustainable. But the two main folks who don't see it for me are in leadership and using their platform to publicly humiliate and shade me. While I've never been the one to lay there while getting stepped on, I'm so sick and tired of telling people how to treat me. I'm over fighting for my respect. And while that place is basically wonderful aside from those two particular assholes, I refuse to keep putting myself in situations that harm me. I'm not doing it and I know I don't have to do it to find a sense of community. Forget normalizing beratement, gossip, mocking and inconsistency from those you're in relation to. We are allowed to expect better from one another. 

While I know there is no way to get the perfect setting, with all amazing people, who show respect and human decency (which isn't high expectations at all), but we can get pretty close. We can expect better of other people because we ourselves, don't operate that way. It's always amazing to me how those folks make it clear they don't like me. Whether it's backhanded compliments or ignoring me when we're talking in a group, being short with me when I do something but when another person does that same thing they are understanding, shutting me out of events- I mean they almost take pride in how obnoxious they can be. It's whack, it's whack, it's whack.

This was a place I wanted to win over. I wanted to own that turf and make those folks who were cruel to me feel uncomfortable once I walk in. But that tit for tat tactic is old. I don't want to get into semantics or shenanigans to be the cool kid on the playground. I'm not saying to give up every space that you feel people don't see it for you in, but the more you walk away from cruddy situations, the more time you have to walk into a space you'll love. For all of us are places where we're celebrated and not tolerated. It is just a matter of not wasting your time and energy on people who don't see how lucky they are to be around you. How do I know? Because for all those people in those spots that don't see it for me, is a person who thinks the world of me! Their face lights up and they embrace me with the warmest hugs. They hang onto every word I say and it is clear they value me. Those people exist. We can get to them if we let the whack ones go. Why have such bad energy around you anyway? 

I shared this to basically say I'm leaving that space. That doesn't mean I won't every visit the place; but as it stands, the environment isn't somewhere I want to consistently be. Experiences we volunteer should feel good. Places we frequent as a choice should feel good. There's no need to be around negativity on your own accord; to me avoiding that is self care.

While I feel like I'm missing out on "dancing", this is definitely not the only place I can go to dance. I'll be able to dance in a bigger and better capacity now that I'm respecting my art enough not to share with people who don't nourish it or me. 

52 Essays 2018: Woah Girl, Take a Step Back.

Wow. Today I did something that could of ruined me. I was feeling bold and crossed a line. I was caught in the act. I felt utter shame the whole entire time I waited to be reprimanded; and then I wasn't reprimanded.

Mercy is almost a nuanced term now. It is used so often, I really forget that not only God has mercy on us, but people can have mercy too. Mercy is when you spare someone your forces. You have the upper hand and are in control. It is well within your will to damn that person, but you don't. Can you remember that last time someone had mercy on you? When God had mercy on you? Receiving mercy is such a blessing I so often forget about.

Why do we risk it all? What is the point of living like a Drake single (YOLO)? There is no blessing in stepping up and showing out. There never is. Once pride consumes someone, they're literally at the hands of mercy after the fact. And why would anyone spare another in this day and age? With high work demands with low wages, a crashing economic system and an overall health crisis, we're all just trying to survive. Who has time for to worry about the next person. But by God's grace, someone who could of executed their power unto me, totally spared me. I would say I'm shocked, but I wasn't really. I was more so reminded of mercy. It was such a blessing to be remined in that extreme manner. I had to remember, get over yourself. Humble yourself. Just yesterday I was saying this. The message still hadn't resonated until this incident. I'm just glad I was shown mercy.

52 Essays 2018: Trust or Carelesness

As I've stated before, there's a setting I frequent that isn't my favorite. A woman who is also in this space asked to talk to me about this place. Now within this relationship, I am the party with no leverage. This woman could potentially be setting me up. She could be exploiting me in my vulnerable moment. Still, I agreed to not just chat with her, but to do it in person, in public, near the not so loved space.

This felt pretty scandalous, being that I lead a sometimes dry day to day. So to be some sort of espionage informant type of person was rather cool. We met at a café which is tres New York. She urged me to purchase an entrée although she wasn't eating, that sneaky cat. I had tea. She pressed for me to get a pastry, her treat; the server laid an extra flaky croissant onto my side of the table. Damn her.

We get to converse about the concerns she initially brought up. Thankfully, I had little to no information in regards to the situation, but was still able to give her the tea she yearned for. Or did I? Because what started to feel like prying commenced. My thoughts about the space, people within the space, and other personal questions came my way. She said I was "candid" with her; and that worried me.

Sometimes when you're fed up with the situation, you forget your diplomacy. Troubling situations should be handled with tact, and I wonder, did I fail to do so this evening? I'm not sure. I do know one thing: this woman has more leverage than she should. She doesn't appear to be someone who'd cause trouble for me. In fact, she's rather appreciative of my presence in that space. However, she has her own motives. I don't mean to sound dark when I say you can't trust everybody, but you can't trust everybody.

Unfortunately we live in a society where people are trying to manipulate scenarios to get what they want. People are blackmailing, twisting words, and lying on others. The most seemingly sweet of the sweetest people do it. I cannot afford to be candid with people I don't trust. There's something I do trust though: my actions, my words and myself. I also trust those who try to do harm unto me shall fail! Each time!

So forget her brief secret meeting! All I can do now is be smarter and keep it kind, but short-very short. So please be careful who you share your sentiments with. Analyze the situation. Always keep your diplomacy. And most importantly, trust yourself.

52 Essays 2018: My Sunday and This Fly

Sundays for me are often days I realize my isolation. Many folks today spend today basking in the Lord's house, others enjoy the bottomless hour at brunch. Sunday is such a great beach day too! People can just lay out or splash in the waves. Or even spend the day inside, cozied up with loved ones. But for me, many Sundays are a single and bored Rebecca, lounging and wishing she had plans for the day. As someone who enjoys alone time, it is hard to admit when I start to feel lonely. When the loneliness isn't by choice, it's less enticing. Honestly, staying in on Sundays is welcomed; I just wish I was staying in with a loved one. But since I'm such a procrastinator, having a whole day to catch up on responsibilities is pretty lit. And besides, I wasn't actually alone. I had the most insatiable guest: a fly.

I don't know about anyone else, but when a fly buzzes past my ear I spaz out. Flies are just gross- especially New York flies. They touch all the hot and stinky dog poop, fly through all the nasty city chemicals, and still have to nerve to touch not just our food, but our bodies! It's outrageous and I want no part of them. This fly could care less though, as it buzzed right on by my ear; that's one way to be told "good morning".

There have been a few instances where I'd see a bug and have multiple encounters, potentially days with it, until I was able to squash the little creepy crawler. It leaves me so on edge in my own home and I hate it. I was gonna be damned if today would be another one of those instances. I tried to follow it- I'm lying; actually I hid under my sheets in fear of that awful buzzing getting by my ears again. But the second time it came around, I did try to swat it! The ugly, loud insect kept jumping all over the place; and I lost it. Maybe a couple of hours later I was laser focused on killing it. My body's energy and strength heightened just for this moment. Desperation was clear being as I was ready to use my hands to smash the fly dead. First, it stopped on my rack post. Next, my granny cart, parked on the opposite side of the room. I reached for a cloth to swing since the fly was out of my reach and my awkward footing would of scared it again. With all the might in my arms, it swung with that cloth in hand, straight towards the uninvited pest. The strike was so intense I needed to catch my breath afterwards- I'm lying everything was fine, aside from the fly not being on my granny cart anymore.

I looked around the area for it to see if the fly had fallen somewhere. Nothing. My eyes wildly moved about searching for a flying fly flying elsewhere. Nothing. This was extremely upsetting to say the least. With a mind clouded with anger and doubt, I gave up and simply continued my Sunday.

After lunch, I watched some shows and at one point wanted to lay down while watching. I have my tablet set up on this small shoe stand used as a bed table because New York alternative. As I'm laying there I notice something rounded and black. Upon looking closer, there is a clear thing sticking up. Now I'm sitting up and see it's the fly! Nice and dead! No longer do I turn in unrest awaiting this nasty SOB to come and cause me harm. I dispose of this bug and thank God for looking out.

All this time spent worrying about a bug that was already dead made me realize how stuck in the past I can be. That strike worked; it killed the fly. But I was too full of doubt to even notice my great doings. This parallels with a current battle against doubt. It's such a strong thing, so confidence and faith have to be even stronger. Breaking free is an uphill battle; but today I was reminded I'm a lot more focused and stronger than I think.

52 Essays 2018: When God Says Rest, Rest.

Today I received an affirmation of rest from the universe; and it was quite the wake up call. As I've talked about prior, people tend to be a lot harder on themselves when it comes to production while quickly noticing the hard efforts of others, and even applauding them for resting. Yet still, we find our own self to be underserving of unwinding. It is a terrifyingly horrible way to be wired, so more often than not we overexert ourselves. This could have been me today if it weren't for mother nature, but previous signs came up already in which I totally ignored.

Yesterday was Friday, the day most of us end our work week, and begin to look forward to a couple of days to relax. We're leaving a strenuous week of work to catch a 48 hour break from all the demands and expectations of our offices. But this weekend wasn't going to be R&R for this young woman, as I planned to pick up extra work in part of a campaign. Last weekend, I worked with this organization and definitely felt the days work in my body. I was glad to help, but definitely didn't get the same relaxation I usually get on my weekends; so as one could imagine, going back to work right away left me a little fatigued. As this work week came to an end, I contacted this organization to see what shifts I'd be working this weekend; and was told I not to come in. That should of been my first sign to just take a load off. But early this morning, that wasn't working for me. I had to do something. So I got ready and headed over to my community garden.

My community garden is so cute! I've taken lettuce and parsley home from it. Every time I go, I'm sure to work the entire volunteer hours. I work fast and hard and hurt all over once I'm done. There is this inherent need for me to feel pain to validate my efforts; and I should process that some more. Upon arriving to the campus, after taking my 10 minute stroll to get there, I am welcomed by closed gates and a lush, green, empty garden. This garden has never been closed since it opened, so I was not only stunned when I saw no one there, but I was granted another opportunity to hear the whispers of  "go rest". Still I walked back home and began cleaning.

Chores were being knocked out all before noon today and it felt great! My laundry was done, my place is clean and I showered before getting ready to run errands. Before stepping out into the world, I usually have a turn up session, consisting of my music playing on my little pink speaker while posting myself jamming onto social media. During this session, outside when from slightly cloudy to a full on rain storm. The patters got progressively loud and fast; and I watched outside my window my plans become null and void. I probably would have still went with my umbrella, had I not left it in the office. So finally I received the message God had been telling me. She commanded me to rest. The rain was the only way I was going to take a step back.

Rest is so important because we need our bodies to be in top form for the sake of our productivity in the first place. You can't pour from an empty cup is a very real saying. As I continue looking out into the rain I reflect on my past week: working on my feet all day, walking 10 miles, my shins hurting, my back hurting, my allergies acting up, me yawning incessantly throughout the day. These are symptoms of a body yearning for rest. I tried so hard to not give it what it needs because of my need to feel useful. I was useful all week. And in my resting, there are still ways to be useful. Writing, talking to friends, and reading up on health tips, are just a few of the ways you can be sure your moment of rest is still yielding progress.

It is funny how life works. Reveals can come in the most interesting ways, but always with great impact. So if your body and mind is calling for rest, give it some. Believe it or not, you've contributed greatly to this wonderful society and you deserve to unwind.

52 Essay 2018: Numbness and Choking

So 27 was supposed to be my year. I claimed it and made this weird decade parallel to life at 17. The thought bubble appears over my head and there I am as a teen again. A young, bright spirit who was such a smarty pants. A girl who said everything that was on her mind-loudly, and shamelessly. This Rebecca drove the coolest, smoothest Toyota, dipped in champagne with leather interiors. She played soccer and felt like a high schooler out of the best tween movie. She had friends, solid friends. I mean the eat, sleep and breathe each other friendship that everyone around them chokes from the gushy smog of friendom. This girl was a community leader, playing a great role in her youth group; people could feel the blessings on this Rebecca (and made the biblical name reference religiously)(see what I did there). The point it, I thought 27 would be me getting back to this confident, loved and witty girl who turned into an angry and tired adult. 27 was supposed to be amazing; and not even a fourth of the way in, I want out. 

Don't get me wrong the year has been ok. Actually it's been pretty good. There have been some awesome highlights and I know better things are on the horizon. But am I choking? When I say choking I mean am I feeling like life got the best of me. Because while I do work out more, care for my body (which has been a long time coming), work in a decent environment, have great moments with friends and family and get potential bae opportunities every now and again, I feel numb. I feel like I'm just going through the motions (omg cliché). And what's most striking: I fear I may have plateaued. 

Can it get any better for Rebecca? What is truly next? As I see others in my ecosystem doing real things and making bigger strides, I think about all my shortcomings being proof that I wont get any greater than today. This is a rather irrational thought; but slightly plausible. Why am I still comparing? Why am I still dealing with the same hurdles from years ago? I've been in New York for 3 years. In most places this doesn't seem long, but for folks who come here, a lot happens within 3 years. Has a lot happened for me? To an extent. Am I where I want to be? Not at all. Am I close? No. Not even remotely? Doesn't feel like it.

I guess I'm just trying to say I'm waiting for the day I can visit folks in my hometown and give them big news. Great news. Life changing news. And honestly, I'm scared of what that work will look like. I'm scared and this is causing me to choke and go numb. There are instances I come out of that; but that's no longer enough.

The peers who impress me grind ferociously. They are up early, eating well, writing, applying, doing daily. The key word is here is "daily". I look at how I spend most days, and it isn't productively. How can I get back to a productive Rebecca? That's what made 17 so special anyways: I was busy. I was doing stuff like being involved in my community and school. I was studying and on top of my academics. I had strong, healthy friendships with lots of fellowship. These things lack, to an extent, in my current life. So I think it's time to stop trying to bring back 17 year old Rebecca and bring out 27 Rebecca in the most revitalized fashion. Because numbed and choked isn't what I see in my future. 

52 Essays 2018: Summer Feels So Busy

It's the first day of July yet, I feel like summer is quickly passing by. When I say I was ecstatic once the leaves started budding and the sun shone long and bright; I mean I was on my roof dancing with joy that summer is here. Finally the harsh winter days are behind us. Time to bust out dresses, shorts and scandals. Time to brunch! The summer is just such a fun time. However, I can't deny this sense of sadness I feel. It feels like August is just around the corner and we know from there it's back to dark days and grim weather.

But summer just started; so why do I feel such a way? I have trips planned, festival tickets purchased, party spots reserved and beach trips scheduled. So why am I so worried about summer passing me by before it even begins. Could this be, dare I say it, anxiety?

During the winter I get seasonally depressed. The cold weather and consecutive cloudy days take a toll on my physical and mental health. My vitamin D deficiency can also become quite severe; I've researched this seemingly innocuous deficiency, and it can actually lead to heart issues. But hold your sympathy, I make sure to monitor my vitamin D intake and stay productive throughout the winter by working on my goals, such as writing and videography. But is there a summer seasonal issue I may be experiencing? How to should I remedy these feelings? These are questions I ask myself. Regardless, I will not let it overwhelm me! This is such a beloved season for me since moving up to New York. It is the time of year people are more pleasant and sociable. Networking and dating seem less hopeless during this time of the year. Every outside turf is packed with folks trying to have a good time; from the beach to the pier and park. Greenery is abundant in the trees and the blue skies stretch far.

I guess I put this out into the atmosphere to say that each season has it's ups and downs. The season may effect you in a way you don't like. However, acknowledging the feeling, processing where that comes from and looking for resolve are ways to make sure you can embrace each season with confidence.

52 Essays 2018: Wow I Suck At This Challenge

Seriously why am I still doing this? Last year I fell completely off the wagon with the 52 essays challenge and here I am once again flopping. I honestly believe if I committed to this challenge, it would revolutionize my life. Constantly, I'm doubting my writing abilities; so why am I avoiding an exercise that allows me to write weekly? Making a big declaration about doing something and actually doing it, are two different things.

A couple of weeks ago I was dismissed from jury duty due to my exasperated asthma. That was one of the few moments in my life when my breathing compromised me from getting things done. As a middle school student, who was in Sea Cadets, I made sure to never miss out on our runs because of my asthma. Even on the days I knew I should stay behind, and just bullshit around the water coolers with the other students, whether hurt or lazy, my pride wouldn't let me. I wanted so badly to be strong and powerful. I wanted to show I could do this run, no matter how sweaty and out of breath I was by the end of it. I would always come in last, walking a pitiful walk back onto campus. Regardless of how awful and embarrassing the run was for me, I would do them. Both years of being in Sea Cadets, that run was ran on our Saturday morning workouts. The constant exercise not only challenged me, it built my character. Following wasn't easy at all, but it was worth it when in turn growth and endurance was gained. That sense of reaching the finish line and appreciating the process occurred. It felt damn good having my chubby behind make it back and kneel over gasping for air until another cadet warned me to stand as to not injure myself. Doing leads to an end result, and it's almost always hard, but always worth it. Trying will never be a waste of time. Efforts are seen and felt and can yield to more. I just have to do.

Thinking back on this moment of time is encouragement for me to persevere in this writing world. If you talk to someone they may make it seem a world away. They say things like "everyone wants that big break" or "you just have to know someone; they're not going to let just anyone in". But while those people are saying things leaving me doubtful and hopeless, I'm also hearing "you've got great ideas", "this article is so good" and "I can see you writing for...". My dream of becoming a professional writer has to be envisioned as a goal. This is something that takes time. And I hope to put in that time through the many facets of my writing, which includes this essay challenge.

So yea I suck at this! But I'll be getting better. I have to believe in myself again, which can be a whole different entry. Still, it is good to know I have made a mark in this field already; let's just get it to be bigger, darker and bolder. This career isn't for the lazy, and like when I was at the fold of my runs, it's time to pick up the pace. It's time to zero in on the field of peers who've made it. It's time to look onto their encouraging faces and make bigger strides. Time to pick up feet higher. Time to skip over the rocky turfs. Time to let the kicked up dust stay on my calves. It's time to make it to them with an ugly face, to then be able to stop, but you can't even stop because you were goin so fast. Your feet just keep skidding until you possibly fall. It's time to enjoy celebration with these peers who are glad to see you made it. It's time to celebrate, because I got here. I made it.

52 Essays 2018: Standing Up for Yourself, Do It!

I've never been ok with conflict. I personally hate when there is a problem. Like why can't we all just  be happy and jokingly?! This irrational need to always keep things light-hearted leaves room for vulnerability. And of course, some people take one's vulnerability for weakness, and ultimately step-over said person. Constantly I'd find myself in these instances.

Now let's be clear: I have no issue telling someone off or about themselves. But I truly, and I mean truly, hate doing it. Being mean or nasty is awkward; I've always wondered how some people do it so seamlessly. Yet, there they are throwing shade at me, belittling me, taking a stab at my character or straight up making fun of me. Most family I vent to about these people say it isn't even about me; its about their own insecurities, miseries, et. Well it sure feels like it's about me in the moment! So what is a girl to do? For me, I honestly feel like I have to defend myself. From my life experiences thus far, it seems we are in a society where we have to show people how to treat us. Common decency is as uncommon as common sense. So when we are being mistreated, if we take the high road and ignore this behavior, it only breeds room for more instances as such. This life is already too hard with the constant traumas as a queer, big, black woman. I refuse to carry a lack of self-respect too.

A couple of recent instances have proved that my mentality is telling. I've had to stand up to individuals in spaces I visit regularly. With the first instance, instead of being subordinate and meek, I questioned my authority. In certain spaces we are urged not to question authority, as it can literally end our livelihood. However, once you hit that breaking point, you break. And it doesn't even have to be a messy, dramatic break. But it does have to be deliberate. It needs to be clear that decision is to break the cycle in how this person interacts with me. There tone will change. The carelessness is now intent. Disrespect and harassment ends here! Since then, I do not feel on edge in that environment. When I am spoken to, semantics do not seem to be at play. This allows for me to reach resolve and have self content not only in that space, but with that person.

The other instance was a lot more clear and direct. I addressed the bad behavior at hand immediately, which is usually the best time for me to speak on my concerns. When I wait to long to address things, I become so angry and passive aggressive, which leads to nothing but lingering emotions. This is also the most uncomfortable way to stand up for yourself though. You're literally not letting a person slide with what they said or did to you, because you shut it down right away; and that may make them defensive. They make try to dig at you some more. They may try to get loud. Either way, defend yourself. You have to have your back. And it is sad to say after handling this person in such a manner, they stopped the bad behavior instantly. It's sad because I had to get real. I had to call out a nasty habit of theirs. I had to make it crystal clear that they would no longer be treating me as such.

Despite how nice, likeable, approachable, or sincere you are with folks, too often people will still treat you unfairly. They'll do you wrong. Sometimes the fact that you are decent and friendly is exactly why they want to treat you that way. Please don't get me wrong; we shouldn't go down to anyone's level of petty, but we should definitely make sure people act right! In my heart is love and peace, but I do not have room for disrespect. No one should. Not ever situation is worth a verbal exchange or showdown (depending on what level you're ready to take it to); but every instant you're upset at yourself for not speaking up leaves you asking yourself "why" for much longer. It's best to let it out and let it go.

52 Essays: Is This Deja Vu?

I'm becoming very weary about adulthood. It seems like a cyclic process of abysmal until you die. Do I really have to feel totally lost every three years? Will I constantly come across people that trigger my teen years and trust issues? I'm starting to feel like there's never that sense of assuredness. That we'll all be perpetually adulting for a forsaken eternity. When you go from baby to tween to young adult, you sense your differences through the phases. But as I'm reaching 27 years on this earth with my faulty door lock being the closest thing I have to security, I can't help but wonder if I'm doing this life thing the right way.

There's so many minuscule things I overthink about. Why don't I have a neighbor I call friend? Who's that person I could invite over to do absolutely nothing? What's up with me and chruch? Will I ever reach my goals? What makes me happy? Should I change my situation if I don't like it or am I just running away from my problems? Is my attempt to seem approachable (because I've been told so many times how I'm not) working? Why is my hair still short? Still thin? Why do I have these aches and pains at 26? Will I ever find someone to love me? But even if I do what's next? Will I ever really let go of my trauma?  When will I release? Ok so I'm not being as melodramatic as I thought, but still it is very clear my mind goes to these places that only weaken me.

My biggest lesson of 2018 thus far is that a weak mind is truly your biggest enemy. When you're head strong, you're unstoppable. This past January marked my third year of moving to New York. Upon arrival, my life and perspective was the opposite of my life and outlook on life today. I headed to this state with high hopes. I just knew I'd be working on wall street or something with a chic apartment near a café. I was writing constantly and eager to learn and absolve information. I was ready to connect with people and felt opem. Meanwhile I was practically homeless (as in no permanent resident; not on the streets) and being denied job after job.

It is so interesting how today I have an actual career with so many opportunities, but feel so limited. I feel stuck. Most of my days are spent desiring to be in my bed. When out and about I am now anxious about speaking about my goals and dreams, because I doubt they'll every come to fruition. This feeling sucks. I get mad at myself and wish to not be that person. A not so nice opinion of mine: some people are pathetic; and I fear becoming one of them. Many instances of greatness are achieved, whether by a stranger or acquaintance, proving that success is available. So while lacking the success desired, I start to feel more and more lame. I wonder if I am that person everyone is saying didn't amount to anything. Projection is a hell of a drug. Essentially I'm embarrassed of myself, to myself. Desperately I seek to impress myself again. I want to make me proud.

So why'd I mention Deja vu? My anxiety of never feeling "set" has brought up the feeling of unease for me when considering the rest of my life. Obviously life is unpredictable and anything can happen to anyone, but it'd be nice to feel secure in the choices and life I live. Career and educational woes weigh heavy on me while trying to manage or more specifically, create, a social and emotional foundation. That feeling of being lost and unsure keeps reoccurring throughout my life. When I was in high school, college, after college, in my late 20s I felt this way. Clearly I'm still in my prime and may ultimately be displaying my youth and naivety. This may all be in my head. I may be over-exaggerating or jumping the gun on my path to contentment. Either way, I know I've been here before. I've felt this way before and it doesn't feel good. Most times I can get through it. Every time I can get through it. It is becoming tiring and I wonder how I can continue this process without burning out. No I do not wish to not have to work. I don't wish to be filthy rich. I just want to feel confident in my future plans. I want to be able to have future plans. As a queer black woman, there are already so many socioeconomics stats that  say me getting older is a turn for the worst. Me as a fat woman is indicative to doctors that I'm worth the counseling. Just take her money and send her off. She'll be riddled with diabetes and heart issues anyways. This fear of failure is real.

When I as a black women in a dating world that already lacks commitment, but also lacks interest in black women, I am just overwhelmed with the potential reality of never finding companionship. To possible fail in life alone and deal with whatever other daily hurdles scares me.

All my life I've been a fighter. I've been adamant about making my goals come into fruition. I speak words of life, wellness and blessings. So ultimately, I know it's all good and everything will be alright. But that isn't a certainty. I've learned enough times that what you want will not always come to light. That's the unpredictable part about life though. Things will happen and you have to deal with it. There are ups and downs and each moment is an opportunity for growth. So this is that time in my life where I have to sink or swim. I have to fight for the life I want. I have to fight for the girl who dreamed of greatness since she could remember. I have to make it work for me; I'm all I got. I've been through it before in a different way, and I will continue to endure. I will survive until I thrive!

52 Essays: I'm Back!

Happy New Year! Are folks still saying Happy New Year to people? Either way the spirit and ambitions of the New Year are hopefully still immersed in you. Today I was thinking: should  I do that writing challenge again? And truthfully, I was embarrassed this was something I was even contemplating. Of course I should! Right? I mean of course I wrote way more content due to this challenge, but has it really benefited me in terms of my wants and desires as a writer? Did I become anymore confident in my writing style, let alone writing voice, due to said challenge? What was the end result from all this?


With all the missed weeks, convoluted essays that were haphazardly assembled, thesaurus.com searches, absent staring into the screen and just overall lack of confidence, somehow I do feel this challenge was a gain for me. I gained a sense of where I'm at as a writer. I do not have confidence in my writing; and my goal this essay journey is to change that. My vernacular isn't as bad as I thought it was. During so many instances where I found myself tripping over the definition of a word, once I looked it up and found it meant what I thought it did, I began to realize I trip myself out way too often. It is time to walk in the peak of my skill and develop great content, not only for these challenges, but this blog I will finally launch, the articles I will feature for countless companies and for my copywriter position. Has any of this come into fruition yet? No. But let's speak it into existence! Affirmations are everything!


Thanks for sticking alongside me during my first essay journey. It was a doozy. I can't wait to see how this next one unfolds, and heightens my writing journey.