Perhaps we can pretend that it hasn't been as long as it really has, and not too much has happened in your lives. I hope that you weren't forced to come here searching for some answer or guidance, and found that I was no help. Sure, I’ve missed writing and missed- all two of you- reading and connecting with me. But life ran away with me in a god-damned frenzy. Yet, here I am, eager and ready to share it with you again. And If, by some chance, you're new, I’m so immensely grateful that you’re here and ready for it all.
Truth is, I didn’t intend to waste more time than it takes to create and birth a child, before coming back here to chat with you, and for that I apologies, but the way i see it, tea will always be tea, and sometimes, it’s even better served cold.
I guess it's not really tea if we all know this, but understanding when it’s essential to walk away, is generally easier said than done. Yet, as cliché as it sounds, we all have to learn this or experience it at least once in our lifetime, whether by the easy way or the hard way.
Currently in my damn near grown state of mind, looking back, I realize that as a child I’ve struggled with separation anxiety ever since I can remember. I hated goodbyes, I mean hated . I'd linger around my school campus, I'd play until the sunset, I'd even choose to stay late at church on Saturday nights because everyone was still there. Goodbyes, just... weren't my thing.
I like to think that I'd beaten my separation anxiety after that thing had happened with my mom and I and a dragonfly. I doubt I had ever shared that story with any of you but essentially, as per any normal circumstance, I was damn near retarded.
You see, I’d chase frantically after my mother whenever she was going somewhere without me -which mostly was back to her nursing school campus, 8 hours away by public transport- but let me tell you, hun, that all ended abruptly one Sunday afternoon after she’d spent the weekend and it was time for her to go, thus leaving me in the care of my (very loving and extremely devoted) grandparents.
I vividly remember my bare, tiny feet being poked and jabbed by the gravel on the unpaved stretch of road. I figure now that the neighbors were used to seeing me in all my crying little black girl glory, chasing after the one person that put me first. Miss Fred, calling for her grandsons as per usual- grown men now who perhaps listen way less than they did as teens- and Girly, awaiting the arrival of one of her many male tenants, which I now realize weren’t just her tenants, because a house could only have so many rooms.
But I didn’t notice any of these things then, I just saw my mother leaving and that was something I could NOT handle. So I did the emotionally triggered thing; I followed her- well I fricking ran.
After about the sixth time, now probably sick to her stomach with how unreasonable I was being, and after yelling and threatening me from a distance, she turned around and started walking back towards me. I should have known better by the look on her face, that she was frustrated with my stubbornness and was more than just a bit annoyed and angry at my inability to understand that this was something she needed to do. But, all my little bird brain could focus on was the fact that she had turned back. My mommy was coming back. And for a split second I had stopped hollering and watched her get closer to me. I just stood there. I’m not sure if I’d reached for her, but she damn sure grabbed the hell outta me and whooped... my... skinny... black... ass... while Girly watched ( I always held that against her) and Ms. Fred waited for her grandsons.
And not only did she spank the breath out of my lungs, she lead me back, straight to the house, through the front door, and back to my room. I might’ve stayed there for a second or two, before running right back to the front door- this time smart enough to know not to pass it- and I just watched her go while I cried a really ugly snotty-drolly kinda cry.
The climaxing moment in that whole situation was not her spanking me, however. It happened while I stood there crying, and a dragonfly came a bit too close to me. This damn bug lands on my neck. I, the dramatic, incase you haven't figured that out by now, ab..so..lutely… PANICS. In my flurry of emotions, instead of flicking it away, I cup it on to my neck with my hand! Now, ladies and gentlemen, as a trapped dragonfly, going about your business, and occasionally appropriating little children’s necks as ideal rest spots -no big deal- suddenly, you're trapped between a hand and a soft place, what would you do? Bite. And bite, honeychild, it did. That dragonfly fluttered and bit and buzzed and the works. I knew it was there and it made me holler even louder, but me being so caught up with the fact that my momma had left, I didn’t realize the damage the bug was doing.
It wasn’t until I literally heard a voice saying “let it go,” had I actually realized that I was in real physical pain and wasn’t even giving that the slightest regard. I do not know where the voice came from- whether it was in my head, one of my grandparents, the tenant that had finally made his way to Girly's house, or the damn dragonfly itself, but I did it. I let go and instantly, I felt relief. By then I was out of tears and was just doing that weird sniffle-hiccup-thing, but I was humbled. I turned around and I went back to my bed, and I slept all the way to the next morning. I woke up and went to school for the week. I adjusted like I'd done after every weekend when my mom had left me, but this week, I'd learnt something new- things, persons -seasons even- that you love, leave... but you still have sh*t to do, and if you don't get this, dog nyam yuh suppa. ( Jamaican creole for there will be dire consequences.) Which reminds me of the time this kinda literally happened to me when a stray cat had legit ran into my house, and snatched my chicken leg right off my plate one Sunday evening when, of course, I was distracted and crying that my mom was leaving. Bruh, and it was baked chicken too...bruh, imagine a national proverb happening to you? Puss nyam mi suppa? Bruuuuuh, I was BIG hurt.
...
Over the past year, I've let go of friends, multiple jobs, even an entire country, and a relationship, but the lessons each chapter held for me were priceless.
With friends I'm now aware of what leeches are. My mom has always told me that I tend to give my last to my friends without consideration for those who were in my life that needed me in that moment- and most times this person was simply me- and that was my dire consequence. I didn't get that until after I had rekindled a friendship that should have been long buried because of how toxic it was. I felt so obligated to take on this person's issues- financial, emotional, family, relationship- and magically solve them for her. But who was I? Fricking Houdini, then? I loved her dearly, but this was not reciprocated and that was the most draining part of this arrangement. When I needed her, perhaps just to chat, I ended up being the one consoling her for not knowing how to be a listening ear. It was like, "damn sis, I'm sorry I made you do the minimum requirement of a friendship. It's my fault, I know you can't manage to be there like you're supposed to. Never mind, I don't know what I was thinking, but tell me, bestie, how is that thing with that guy going? You still broke? I just got paid today, I gotchu. Damn, you somehow got those sneakers I told you I liked? Yaaaaaass. You look good sis." …… what?
We have to realize that some of our friends aren't what they present themselves to be or what we think they are; get that into your head and you're already a step ahead. A friend, is essentially, an extension of your inner self, in the sense that, you must aim at building strong bonds with people that push you to be greater than you currently are, at an equal level. I repeat, because it is important, an equal level. If they grow, you should too, a true friend will ensure that happens, and if you're a good friend, you too will promote your friend's growth. If there is no equal growth, there is imbalance- a dire consequence of this is negative peer pressure, or the 'crabs-in-a-barrel' scenario, where you're literally climbing on top of each other, and pulling the other ones down, while others are pulling you down... none ever ends up out of the barrel. They all get cooked. They all die- perhaps a bit extremely, but you see the dire consequence in the scenario. You see the hurt you're inevitably bringing upon yourself. There is no equilibrium. If equilibrium is not achieved, this causes a problem- someone then becomes a leech, either you or the friend. I assure you, if you try to fix this and you know that the red flags are there, ( excuses, guilt trips, no change in behavior or even worse behavior, distancing) it is healthier to leave it, for both your sakes.
In the situation above, that young lady and I couldn't see eye to eye when it came to something as simple as moral support. This tore us apart. I was drained, because mutual moral support was actually a simple thing- a fundamental thing- in a friendship, yet was so empirical that the lack of this, eventually tore us apart, or rather, tore me apart. I figure it was healthier for us both to let go, me for my own mental and emotional health and for her to eventually realize for herself the things she needed to change. One less biting dragonfly.
…...
I now know what my passion is and it happened after changing jobs, and hopping on a few flights.
I love people. I love giving and caring and helping. Sure, teaching was a great career for this, but I wanted to reach a wider group of people. I wanted to help on the path of recovery, I wanted to help on the path of a different stage of life, and I wanted to help the loved ones of those I'd already helped, understand the path that they were on too. I wanted to heal. I wanted to hold the hands of the ones who were scared and reassure them that I was determined to help them until I couldn't anymore, but even in the end I'd still be there, because life was so precious- even in the hard times, and even in its end.
I left Canada in Spring. I quit my retail job, got fired from my restaurant job, only finished my first semester of my new college, packed a suitcase and a carry on, and made my way to New York state. I haven't looked back since. I now work fulltime at a prominent hospital and enrolled fulltime at a new college, Now I'm on my way to attaining my Bachelor's degree in Biological sciences. I'm on my way to loving what I do wholeheartedly- helping people. And I'm telling you this, but it started way before leaving Canada. It started with my Mom's nurturing nature and my father's inability to leave anyone he cared for in need. Never have I thought that with only 15 credits left in order for me to graduate with my degree in Liberal Arts, which is what I'd been pursing all my life, I'd literally halt, haul ass and completely redirect my studies to Biology, setting me back four years. Never, in a million essays.
I say this because sometimes we're so scared of letting go of what we've always done because we're so scared to fail or lose. But that fear is your dragonfly. That's a limitation that blocks a potential so immense, it's unfathomable. Because so fricking what if you fail? It will come on the path you're on right this moment. I'm sure you failed or lost somewhere in the past. I'm sure you've all had to learn something along this familiar path as well. Change and challenges are literally inevitable. Letting go of that fear- the damned dragonfly that is blinding you from living your dream and pursuing your studies- is what we all need to do. If scientists hadn't took all the leaps of faiths that they did, you wouldn't be reading this right now from your Lithium powered device now would you? Nope.
I stopped being stubborn and telling myself 'oh, I'd never work in healthcare, because my mom goes through soooo much,' and realized that being a teacher, I'd go through quite a bit of my own, so why not channel all my energy into something that I knew really meant a lot to me. I quit that job, I skipped that town and I dropped that course. I let go. I picked up this challenge. I insisted on growth, not comfort. And even if I fail, at least I can say I tried. At least I can say, I learnt.
…………………...
Now, y 'all know me, I just absolutely had to leave the strongest tea for last, but yes, I'm single, officially. I won't get into the detail of things but this run let me realize that I'm growing up so much.
When it ended, of course I went through the usual emotions- anger, dismay, disgust, sadness.. and some other thing that included looking through pictures and videos and literally forcing myself to admit to feeling something in that moment, that was really redundant now that I think about it- yet, I never, not once felt bitter. Get this, I was broken, but never bitter. and I am immensely proud of myself for that. I was collected. Now, hun, this was a tad bit scary as it was new to me, because I've always been very easily triggered and undoubtedly (as you can all tell) one of many words. I said nothing after the fact, no angry text, no late night calls, no subs, nothing. I took a break from social media, but I returned as I left, collected, not unbothered, but... mature.
I realize this now, that I was able to do this with the support of my dear friend Zhawddy (inside joke). I learnt that the dragonfly -the underlining self-inflicted trauma- that I needed to get over was truly understanding what I was really getting over. I was firstly accepting the reality. I was then allowed to let go of the idea, the potential, the relationship in itself, the person- who I thought he was, who I wanted him to be, who I helped him to become, and who he was now- the pain and all the hurt. I could have also chosen to let go of the memories but those... I held on to those for a bit longer. I did the non-crazy ex-girlfriend thing. I washed, folded and packed his things into a bag, placed them in the back seat of my car, and waited for him to ask for them. It took me about a month to do that last thing because I was still hoping, but even this too, along with his things, I let go.
and I've never felt lighter.
At the end of it all- being a good person, a good woman, a damn near grown woman- I feel compelled, encouraged, motivated even, to tell you, that letting go of petty, childish ways, really pays off in the end. Letting go of pain you're instilling onto your own being (wellbeing, mental being, spiritual being, physical being too, because it can begin to show) is significantly greater than letting go of anything else. You're forgiving you. You're permitting yourself to grow. You're allowing yourself to reach a higher pinnacle. You're giving yourself a break. You're taking that energy that you'd put into the unnecessary, and opening up channels for qualities that promote a greater you. Not a you that latches on to or appropriates pain as an excuse to be bitter but a you that let's it go. A you, that you heal.
I served no apologies, I slashed no tires, vandalized no property, spit no evil, mean words, I didn't even wish bad on this man. In fact, I wished him growth and guidance. I requested a prayer for him from the Chaplain to help him on his own journey. I ended it all, wrapped it all, coated it all, in the end, with what it started with- love.
Letting go is ridiculously hard but the strength... good God... THE STRENGTH.. I cannot stress this enough... THE POWER RUSH you get from taking just that one step, is beyond words. It's beyond realms of imagination, beyond comprehension, beyond expression, but it is so exhilarating and so much less hurtful to you as a person, in the end, than you can even imagine.
& We deserve that.
Everyone of us.
The hurter and the hurting.
The forgiving and the sorry.
The bitter and the ones who have broken.
The drained and the tormenting.
The loving and the lost.
Everyone.
………………………………………………………...
In the end, good always comes out of letting go. Whether it be a new job, a new hobby, a new friend, a healthier relationship or the realization of growth that you needed before committing or the knowledge now of what you want to commit to- or simply, the silhouette of your mom on a cool sunset Friday afternoon, making her way home to you. Whatever it may be, in the end the pain, or the loss, or the absence, no matter how massive they seemed initially, doesn't even compare to what you feel when you have the beautiful moment in front of you where you sit down and it hits you: you did this, you made it, you grew, you healed and you won.. You see because it's all just experiences that require a bit of introspection, eh? Just that little courage to let go, to leap, to learn. You see, my love, they're all lessons... lessons... all apart of une vie a plain bord- a life, full to it's brim.
this is the sin'derella project
