When Ahmaud Arbery was murdered on what should have been a routine run, when Breonna Taylor was murdered in her sleep by a bullet she couldn’t see coming, when George Floyd was strangled in broad daylight in a busy street, I could not uphold the strong tower image I had created around racism and its effect on me and my family. So I didn’t.
And in that moment, when reality begins to hit, when the ground slows to stop,
Then and only then, do you begin to see the end of your hope?
Do you see the birth of your promise slain in the road?
In that time, I started writing a book, started a new job, moved to a new apartment, and started serving in my church. And honestly it felt sooo good. I knew God had me right where I was made to be.
Que record scratch.
I waited for my daddy on our front porch, eager to etch his face in my memory. He had only been back home for two months, yet still I felt a determined urgency to study his face and link the person whom I loved in the corners of my mind for the past two years with the person in front of me. My brothers, Curtis and John, who were too young to really remember a time with dad, sat on the stoop comparing matchbox cars and fighting over the best piece of sidewalk to race them.
To be honest, I lived in regret for the next day or two wondering, “What if?” When I decided to leave regret, I was freed from it. But as soon as I decided to redeem the next step and work on my confidence, I grew from it.
I’m living in California.
*que internal mix of excitement and fear*
That moment was when those cute butterflies became lead weights in my stomach and I froze. I would prefer to say I blackout and vaguely remember what happened next but I would be lying. I remember everything exactly.
There is a very big part of me that has delayed writing this post for fear of rejection from you. A part of me doesn’t want to be this honest because I know revealing this little corner of my thoughts might make you uncomfortable; it might even cause you to disown or reject me. But as these thoughts trapped in the confines of my mind demand to be released, I’ve decided to breathe and share anyway.
Fair warning, this is about race.
So with blind confidence, I announced to my co-workers that I would soon be bringing in different cakes for them to tase as I honed my skills and accepted my destiny as a cake baker. No one could tell me anything. (You can probably guess how this ends.)
Lets be real though, if you know me, you know I’m not perfect. *gasp*
No one is; I understand that…in theory. But I still fear failure in the day to day. Being the internal perfectionist that I am for as long as I can remember, failure has never been comfortable (not that it’s welcomed by the general population; I guess i have a particular aversion to it). It’s just not fun.
Today I turned down my first date in some time. Don’t tell my mother.
Overthinking is that moment you stop and replay the last conversation wondering if they might misinterpret what you said. It’s not saying hi to your crush because you are afraid they might see you as desperate. (Well, lets just admit that anything having to do with the person you’re attracted to leads to overthinking.) It’s feeling out of place among people you call your friends when you’re convinced that you have nothing to add to the conversation.
Overthinking can be debilitating.
I sat in the drivers seat of my parents Toyota Sequoia, completely overwhelmed and utterly despondent. My body betrayed me as tears began to spill down my cheeks. My hunched shoulders trembled as I gasped for the next breath, in direct conflict to the strong, resolute image I had predetermined to uphold. “This wouldn’t have […]
Stand or Kneel? Where do I fall? I’ve tossed and turned these ideas in my head and have debated whether to share those thoughts in such an open forum where my words can be taken and interpreted in so many ways. Yet after all the internal debate, I have decided that it was worth sharing. Here it goes.
I am super excited to share this podcast! My siblings and I sat down to record and found ourselves in a great conversation about motivation and why we do the things we do…and why we dont. For most of my adult I’ve tried to muster motivation and discipline with no avail. Its been such a […]
I’ve always been considered to be pretty chill person. (Chill meaning easy going not temperature reading.) And for the most part I am. That being said, there are times when my own anxieties knock me of my easy going pedestal and threaten to betray my existing reputation.