Growing Into Me without Losing Me

I am a social networking junkie! I'm attached to my Twitter and Facebook nearly 24/7 though I may not be "socially networking" myself. I update statuses because, well, that's just what I do. Oddly enough, these days, more than ever before, I seek a mirror that offers me the chance to see myself in the manner that others see me. What sort of woman do you see when you look at me, speak to me, see my name? When the name Theresa Clark is presented to you as a representation of myself, what comes to mind? I remember years ago, friends and myself would post stats asking "give me one word that describes me", and your friends would comment with descriptions and you would return the favor if they were too participating. Surprisingly, the words then were nice, sweet words: kind, caring, sweet, honest, funny.

But today, I wonder, what would come to mind to those who have known me and those who do know me? Especially since becoming a woman fighting adulthood with the same ferocity she did with childhood growth.

Life grants us chances to see who we've grown into after experiencing life from a first person point of view. Chances like having lunch or dinner with a dear friend and running into someone you'd never expected to see again. Or, on your way to work, and running into a representation of your past, and this running into, isn't exactly how you'd envisioned it in your mind. But it happens.

Yet, life doesn't give us the chance to see in real time how people see us now. It forces us to grow into, with, and because of these transitions and judge ourselves, for ourselves, and by ourselves accordingly. Daunting feat right?

We seek and define ourselves through the things that life makes available to us. We define ourselves thru our fear, our desires, our dreams and the nightmares that ride our backs at night stifling our breathe as it attempts to suck whatever air is left out of our bodies, for fear of what we're to become. We live these lives, for the bulk of these lives staring through a two-way piece of glass that only offers us our reflection. What we see of ourselves at that moment.

It's hard to make alterations when you're not able to see a picture for what it really is; when you're forced to alterate based off of feelings and emotions, off of personal wants and desires.

It didn't take me long to discover that life is about change. And honestly, it's not about much else. We change in life over everything. Life engrains into us early, that at any given moment in our lives, we can change without the requirement of anyone's permission or say-so. Not even our own.


I fight daily to be a better me. To be and grow into the individual, the woman, the creation in the image of my God, I am supposed to be one of these days. And yes, the journey is treacherous and quite tough, but on my good days, the journey is well worth the climb. Yet, I still desire an accurate picture of what I portray and what I give and offer to the world. I seek this out just as much as I may seek personal forgiveness or individual gratitude. I search for it like I sought for faithful love when I wanted and needed it most. Yet, life is not willing to give me the picture of what others see. And I have no clue as to why, only assumptions, gestures, and ideas. All of these though, still do not give the answer to the question I seek: what does the world see when Theresa Antoinette Clark is presented to them? But just as quickly as the question is presented, it is quickly withdrawn because who the world sees and what the world thinks, by far is not as accurate as who it is that resides within ourselves. And that just may be the reason that we're given that two-way mirror that only provides a reflection of who we are at the very moment we decide to stare into that mirror, and figure out who we are then and who we are becoming.


I am not who I am destined to become. I am not the woman I desire to be. I am not leading a life that is in my eyes, admirable. But my growth and resilience, takes the cake in all categories. I grow and am growing. And that, is a feeling, an experience that no two-way self-reflecting mirror can give us, nor one that the world can convey equally as well. We've been put here to change lives and grow. But one of the first lives we're scheduled to change is our own. And how we do so, determines our whole life's worth and outcome as life returns to us only what we have placed into it.




Chrisette Michele
I'm A Star





"I really don't think life is about the I-could-have-beens. Life is only about the I-tried-to-do. I don't mind the failure but I can't imagine that I'd forgive myself if I didn't try." 

Nikki Giovanni

getting my peace of mind

Dear You.


Yes you. Especially if you think this is about you, then yes, it can be about you too. I know somewhere in your psyche, you think, well, you've convinced yourself that without you, I'd be nothing. Better yet, I would have been up shit's creek without a paddle to maintain the waves or a compass to know which way to go, if it all weren't for you. Claiming credit where it by far is not due.


But guess what? I'm fine. And like many urbanites like myself who weren't born with a silver spoon attached to their tongues, I'm good. And to be honest, I'm glad, no happy, shit, I'm proud of me for having walked away and not looking back. For having grown the balls you were incapable of maintaining to say enough was enough.


I claim myself and only the individual I am. Heart, mind, titties, ass, smile, happiness, everything - all included. And I must say, I am the grand prize. I am above 1st place status and especially beyond 2nd place "runner-up-coming-up". There's no one like me. And never will be. This though, you already know.


I am over what was and what use to be. And just because I'm spilling my sarcastic ass feelings into this piece of literature, it does not mean I want you. No sir.


I need nor do I want anything from you. I desire nor crave nothing that comes of your being. No conversations, apologies, puppy dog eyes of a man who's lost his battle. Nothing. No phone calls, text messages, e-mails; no forms of communication. No reason to connect. I harbor no ill feelings, hostility, nor anger. I wish nothing upon your life that could potentially do harm to you or that could alter your life in ways you cannot even imagine. 


My main and only concern in this current and present life of mine is myself. That is all. I've reached a point where I could care less about your words, thoughts, intentions, or desires. Because sir, you know, just like I know, Karma, is a bitch. Life knew just what she was doing when she made Karma, sexually speaking, a cold blooded fucking woman! And I already know, your name, is indeed on it.


To you, you walked away with nothing. To you, I forced you to begin all over again. To you, I have everything, and was inconvenienced by none. If you say so. But the last time I checked: that large, lavish apartment has been traded in for a twin sized bed while I solely am still paying for that large, lavish apartment that you too resided in. You remember that apartment right? The same one you laid your head at when the night sky took over. The same one where I scrounged and struggled for months to make all ends meet while your sad attempts to get on your feet didn't quite come through. Yet, I would have lost it all if it weren't you. Are you sure about this? Or is this just what you irresponsibly spill into the streets and atop of the ears of whomever will listen to make yourself look good? How about no comment? Or, I'd rather not speak on it. How about "I fucked up. But I have to move on". Any of these would work magically for me because then the hard work I did put in and the dedication I did exude would not be trampled on by your selfish, inconsiderate, lonely ass words on the simple fact that you've grown bitter.


You hold no power over me or my successes. Your presence has no place in my future regardless of how hard you attempt to ease your way in. You words mean nothing regardless of how hatefully you spew them all in the name of hatred and anger. You, are no longer a factor in anything I do.


But go ahead and carry on. Because while you harbor these ill-gotten feelings that really should be geared towards yourself, I pay you no mind. I fight daily to regain the peace of mind that rightfully belongs to me. But do understand, this peace, was never in your jurisdiction. This peace, is brand new and refreshing; it has no imprint of days spent with you. And yes, I fight daily to leave you further in the past than you were yesterday. I, will and can be everything you claim me to be because you, my former beau, are no longer a factor. I will be all the fat bitches I've ever been to you because you, have no stake to profit off of when it comes to me.


So Sir, enjoy the words you regurgitate today, for they may be the words you eat tomorrow.




Sincerely,
never looking back.

Chrisette Michele

Goodbye Game

Better & More

"Being at a place where you no longer care is never a good place to be, but, it's often the best place because that's where we put ourselves first."

These words I posted on Twitter when it finally hit me that the situation I'd once again found myself in, I was in, but no longer cared about it or anything but me. And I was and am ok with such feelings. It doesn't bother me.


I always talk about self-worth, self-love, and how we, especially us women, deserve better, more - the best. But we also know that to get such things, a demand is created. Just like closed mouths don't get fed, a heart's desire is never satisfied if we don't pursue its wants and sometimes, its needs.


The steps to a better life, to the lives we want for ourselves always began with us. Point blank. There's no other place, no better place than there to began.


For four years, we tried endlessly to make us work. Call it forcing, contrived, or imaginary, we fought in our own ways, for our own reasons or motives, to make that thing work. One may have felt or thought they did more, experienced more or less pain, gave more of themselves for something that they wished and prayed for some sort of positive return. But oftentimes, God doesn't give us what we want or what we think we should have because it's not meant for us to have. This is a realization that never quite hit me until I decided I was finally done. After countless attempts to work, I caved, and gave into myself. Decided that I was and am too good of a woman to allow someone to use me as target practice. To brandish my heart with actions that left it heaving for air on those nights when the "I'm sorry" and "It was a mistake" weren't enough. Granted, I know he would beg to differ - these are my thoughts and feelings. I'd reached a point when thinking and whispering to myself that I deserve better and more, needed to be known all across the board. Subtle voice undertones and text rants about what I thought I deserved, no longer worked; I knew I deserved better and more, and was going to go to whatever lengths necessary to make sure I received them. And it didn't matter how anyone perceived it - as long as it was known.


Because of then and those moments that I spent alone with myself and with my heart and its contents spilled out ahead of me, I've found myself beginning again.  And as difficult of a decision this has been, I realize it's the best one for me. A chapter has been closed in my life, for new ones to have the opportunity to begin and the option to end. And I welcome them and their many facets with open arms. I welcome my life's forthcoming chapters with an endearing, understanding type of love that only I can comprehend. No amount of love or life songs can adequately describe just how I feel or what exactly lies in my heart. But I know I deserve better and more. And I commend myself on giving me to opportunity to live and the option to experience myself, by myself, and alone in my own skin.

Jill Scott, Hear My Call

I know I've posted this video on a past blog piece, but this is poignant and important :)

Waiting (for)(me) to Exhale

Imagine: a boring "apple-sugar-spice" Saturday afternoon full of nothingness and empty of excitement. You're a 23 year old woman, with half of a job, mind full of dreams, wants, and desires, an unkempt apartment that's yours to which needs to be straightened up by the way - but you feel weak. You pray daily, throughout the day and wake up sometimes at night when the only thing lighting the skies are stars you can't see from your bedroom, just to speak and talk with your God. Feel like you're living day-to-day - waiting for something to happen. Waiting for the life you know you deserve to stop skipping and just play - smoothly.

Rewind 15 years - Waiting to Exhale, circa 1995. I remember my mom took me to see the movie when it first came out. It was a date. Andorra Shopping Center - the best movie theatre in all of Philadelphia! At least that's what my 8 year old self thought. Unbeknownst me, that film would be pivotal to me, as a young girl. Waiting to Exhale is the film that ushered me into the realization that "Damn, I'm a girl!"

Fast forward 15 years. To now. That 8 year old girl is a 23 year old woman who now, fully understands the innuendos and adult comments and content made throughout the film. That 8 year old who is now a 23 year old woman, not only understands, but has been in some of the shoes filled by the women who played these pivotal roles. These, classic characters.

I remember watching it in my 8 year old skin, during the part when Robin and Michael have (horrific) sex. He looked like a fish in dry land, dying, but then he came to life - in minutes. I remember Gloria being the overbearing mother. And Angela Bassett's unforgettable role as the wife who sets her husband's clothes, jewelry and car ablaze after he leaves her, for a white woman. The rest of the movie, the little things, I didn't remember. Until this Saturday. This boring "apple-sugar-spice" Saturday!

But I realized and learned some, well, a lot of things as I watched this crucial film, from beginning to end. From opening scene to rolling credits. I watched that film beginning as the 8 year old girl I originally viewed it in, and slowly, grew into the 23 year old woman I am now.

Bernadine wanted to call her husband's new woman - the white woman, his secretary, to "talk" to her. Robin, egged her on. Savannah (Whitney!), shook her head. And Gloria, protested and subsequently snatched the cord out the phone. Bernie broke down. And I noticed, no one, not even Gloria or Robin who was on her side, consoled her. No one took her hand and said sweet words that we want our girlfriends to say. No one cusped her face into their brown, worn palms, and whispered positive words to her. They all sat (or stood) in place and watched her break down. And question why.

I sat at the edge of my bed, pouring, drying, and peeling Elmer's school glue from off of my hands. I sat there, seeing myself with my sister and my best friends. Watching us talk about what's to come - our fears and excitements. We're all excited to become mothers and wives, to buy our first homes and take vacations that women only takes with her girls.

I sat, waiting for the play button to be pushed in my life. To hear the "on your mark, get set *gunshot!* GO!" I sat, and watched this movie, and noticed that none of these women took care of themselves. But they took damn good care of everyone else. To please, everyone else - whether spiritually, emotionally, or sexually. Took exceptional care of their children, homes, and careers. But, they failed at making sure that their self, their person, their beings, were their #1 priority.

So, after the credits rolled, and I peeled glue from my hands one last time for the day, I made myself a cup of herbal tea. Started a simple dinner for one. And began this piece. Googled the benefits of yoga. Vowed, to myself, that while I wait for life to stop skipping, the least I could do is take care of me. To put me first. To take care of myself whether it meant eating more vegetables or meditating before bed. Whether it meant not answering the phone when I know I don't want to be bothered, just to have or to get a peace of mind, or randomly texting a friend I Love You.

Adulthood and I have a love/hate relationship. We've had this devastating relationship since I started college. It isn't fair and surely does what it wants to - what it sees fit. Doesn't give me what I want, when I want or what I feel I rightfully deserve, and damn sure doesn't give a streak of good luck!

But, as I sat on my bed, watching a cast of actresses whose careers let alone their lives span and double my own, I realized the key to this game of adulthood isn't to wait for it to do you right. The key is to do yourself right. The key, is to find a space or moment in time to call your own. Find a some peace of mind even when you're sitting in the midst of chaos. Appreciate the glimpses of sunshine regardless of the category 7 hurricane that's ripping through your life. Find peace. And breathe. Exhale.

At 8, I thought it was all about love and being angry. At 23 and an adult, I realize the problems were and are deeper than sex, more passionate than making love, more severe and detrimental than holding on or not wanting hold on tight because you've convinced yourself you'll lose the battle anyway. It's about carving a niche in this superficial, self-centered and self-absorbed, narcissistic, emotionally drained and oversensualized society we call home.

Since re-watching this flick for the first time in its entirety in 15 years, each day, I carve a niche for me and my existence. Whether it's sitting at my computer and working on a blog or feature piece, or sitting cozy in the corner of my sofa with a cup of tea, or even, sitting on my bed, naked, and in my skin, eyes closed, heart beating steadily, I breathe. I take time back for myself, whether 5 minutes or for 10 minutes, and I take it for myself. And myself alone.

For some people, this lesson, is never learned, let alone taught. Lucky me, I learned it at 8 but understood and comprehended it at 23. The sooner we get this simple fact about life, quite possibly, the sooner we all can individually and drastically change our lives, for the better.

So, moral of the story is: take back your life and claim it. Re-name. Appreciate it. Make it yours and give yourself the life you deserve.