I’ve been dragging my feet about the essay for this week. I haven’t particularly written anything this week. Usually, I write here and there during the week. There have been moments of brilliant recognition of a great line to start with but I have been either too sleepy or tired or take the pen and write it down. I am not behind yet but I can see how easy it would be to let this one bite the dust lol.

Friday was the first day I didn’t have to work for anyone or wake up at the crack of dawn as I’d been doing for the past three weeks training for the job I had to take and keeping up with my pop-up.

There’s a feeling of accomplishment of sorts even though I really don’t have all of my rent for March yet even as we are 3 days away. I feel like I have arrived in a way, to be able to choose to work for someone. True this work isn’t what I’d like to be doing but I really did get to choose. When the young ones around me are talking about how to move up in the company, and how they can’t wait to have that corner office, I smile to myself because I know I don’t want that corner office unless it is in my own building. That much I’m clear on. I don’t want to move up in anyone else’s company. I want to build my own and make my own policies. I’m not sure what they think of me. I just know that I remember being where they are and I don’t envy them.

It’s almost 1am and it’s the longest I’ve stayed up since I started working for the man three weeks ago. I took a long nap earlier which is why I am able to still be upright. I am determined to post something before I retire.

Lots of ideas have crossed my path this week. One on how visible or invisible we are to each other. I have been greeted with As-Salaam-Alaikum on a few occasions over the last month that it’s given me pause. It has always come from men which is a curious thing in itself. Of course having my head wrapped often gets me mistaken for a Muslim but it’s been more rampant this winter because of my infinity scarves covering the wrapped head. I always am taken aback when greeted. Mostly because I don’t think I pass. Then I am pleasantly surprised and awed that they would accord me that courtesy. What it has made me realize though is that we all have a chance to really see each other but few of us do take that chance on a daily basis. We are too busy to pay that much of a close attention especially to people who might only cross our paths for that moment. I’m not speaking for or against, just making a note that as much as it pleases me to be mistaken for a sister and fellow believer, it shows that a woman with a wrapped head and draped scarf can only mean one thing to these men. This used to happen to me when I lived in Ghana when people mistook me for African American because of my locs. We ascribe meaning to various looks and we don’t take the time to see beyond them.

Another thought that crossed my path this week was how often my thoughts get policed by others who think they have my best interest at heart. Some of us are conditioned as women to make sure that we police other women’s actions. I’ve unfriended a couple people because in all honesty, my public forum is mine and mine alone. I am always under the assumption that if you find something you disagree with on my page, you will either reach out to me on the side and air your grievance or just keep reading, or leave my page or unfriend me. There are many options. The last option which I have found to be most frustrating is people chastising me for posting whatever it is I posted. Why do you think that? We are all full blown adults. I have opinions separate from you even if we are family or the tightest of friends. I have every right to feel a certain way. Most people know by now that I am very honest and open, and I have thought that if people feel ashamed of me as this one friend did, because I was basically airing “dirty laundry” then they can just bypass my page. I didn’t expect to get a talking to at a private party later in the week. Why must you share all that with the world? The reality is, I have lived a quiet life before and it has nearly killed me. This is the only way I have found to sufficiently stave off the noon-day demon: to speak my truth. If my truth bothers you, then you have a choice to act accordingly. I also know that there are others out there looking to see if they are alone. I’d hate for them not to know I exist.

The last thought that crossed my path this week sort of came as a result of David’s anniversary. Even though it’s been 5 years, I still have flashbacks and they unsettle me each time they occur. The fact that 5 years can go by and I still feel this way bothers me. I know that grief takes time but I could never have imagined that it would take this long and it would be so sneaky. I posted my despair at the grief process this week and got lots of responses, most positive, encouraging me to be gentle with myself. I met with my spiritual director and we talked about the struggle to move on. I spared the majority of folks the details of that horrific night and I’ve not felt the need to relive it in writing but sometimes I feel like if people only knew how bad it was, they’d be less apt to encourage me to move on until I’m ready. But now I think, it doesn’t matter what they want to tell me to do. My body is the only one who knows exactly how that night went down and only my body will tell me when she’s ready. When the stab is no longer as sharp, I’m sure my FB posts will reflect that too. My spiritual director encouraged me to take what David meant to me, the legacy he left me by being in my life and let that propel me forward from my current stasis as I figure out my next steps post returning to working for the man.

I was hoping for a way to tie this all together with a pretty bow but it’s not happening. Biggest achievement is that I have written and thus I am on track for week 8 and ready for what week 9 will bring.


Have a wonderful week!


2 thoughts on “#52essays: Scattered Thoughts Determined to Breathe

I know you have something you are itching to say...

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s