Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Leaving Limbo.
Lately, I've been doing alot of soul searching. Like, I'm starting to realize that every battle ain't worth the fight and I'm starting to look at the bigger picture called LIFE. I'm starting to become more conscious of my current position.
Seeking God, and figuring out what things I need to cut out of my life that are only making things worse, even though they seem so "right".
So far, its allowed me to see that I was much better off without certain things in my life that, for a long time, I thought I needed.
There's NOTHING on Earth worth losing my salvation.
I remember once actually BEING the girl that I am now striving to become again.
The girl that never compromised herself for another person's acceptance.
The girl that set her self far above the standard of grace.
The girl who KNEW BETTER.
2010 is the year of my collapse, limbo, and slow rise.
I KNEW I was losing myself and as a result, didn't care about how I would be perceived.
I didn't care that I was becoming the person that I NEVER wanted to be; the person I usually felt sorry for and occasionally laughed at.
Morally Irresponsible.
I even (semi)"dated" someone because deep down, I felt like I was still me. I felt like I could still open my heart and open my mind to let another person in even though I wasn't even mentally there... Even when I swore up and down "I got this".
WRONG.
Rushed into it, barely got to know him, had sex a few times up to the point where it became awkward because we barely spoke... and that was it.
Pathetic. Wow.. Really Camille?
Did I really have to go through that to figure out that I wasn't ready to start dating again?
.. Guess so.
But the embarrassment and AWKWARDNESS of me seeing that person ALL the time fucking SUCKS.
But maybe that's just another course in the lesson plan too..
Refocusing...
I've come to the point where I'm realizing that I had to lose myself in order to find myself even when I thought I already had myself.
I cant say lesson learned yet because I'm still building.
But I can say "I got this".
Seeking God, and figuring out what things I need to cut out of my life that are only making things worse, even though they seem so "right".
So far, its allowed me to see that I was much better off without certain things in my life that, for a long time, I thought I needed.
There's NOTHING on Earth worth losing my salvation.
I remember once actually BEING the girl that I am now striving to become again.
The girl that never compromised herself for another person's acceptance.
The girl that set her self far above the standard of grace.
The girl who KNEW BETTER.
2010 is the year of my collapse, limbo, and slow rise.
I KNEW I was losing myself and as a result, didn't care about how I would be perceived.
I didn't care that I was becoming the person that I NEVER wanted to be; the person I usually felt sorry for and occasionally laughed at.
Morally Irresponsible.
I even (semi)"dated" someone because deep down, I felt like I was still me. I felt like I could still open my heart and open my mind to let another person in even though I wasn't even mentally there... Even when I swore up and down "I got this".
WRONG.
Rushed into it, barely got to know him, had sex a few times up to the point where it became awkward because we barely spoke... and that was it.
Pathetic. Wow.. Really Camille?
Did I really have to go through that to figure out that I wasn't ready to start dating again?
.. Guess so.
But the embarrassment and AWKWARDNESS of me seeing that person ALL the time fucking SUCKS.
But maybe that's just another course in the lesson plan too..
Refocusing...
I've come to the point where I'm realizing that I had to lose myself in order to find myself even when I thought I already had myself.
I cant say lesson learned yet because I'm still building.
But I can say "I got this".
Friday, June 25, 2010
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
"One shot to your heart without breaking your skin..."
"...no one has the power to hurt you like your kin."
My dad comes home next month after spending the last 7 or so years in prison..
..It was his second strike and I don't know if I'm more excited or afraid..
At this point in my life, I'm a little numb to the pain of him not being here... yet, I always find myself wondering about what my life could have been if he never had any problems... Problems with the law. Problems with drugs. Problems with family..
As a kid, I was always kept in the dark about what was really going on with him. No one ever wants to tell the kids.. And every time I was told "Camille, your daddy's in jail again", they never told me why. I guess they where protecting his "fatherly image" and didn't want me to resent him.
Whenever he was out, it was like I saw him whenever it was convenient for him.. Like, he would stop by with one of his friends just to be like "look at my daughter!" and then they would always say "Man, she looks just like you"... and that was it. He would kiss me, say hello to whoever was there, promise me that he would be right back, say that he would take me to Disneyland later or some shit and then be gone.. If my mom was there, she would always have a conversation with him; ones that I never heard because she was probably cussing him out for the drive-by meeting..
I remember when I was like 11 or 12 and I was home alone one weekend and he came by in a car with two dusty looking females. He got out and we talked for a little while.. can't really remember the conversation, but it was pretty quick. Then, he gave me a kiss and said "I'll be back later, I'm bout to go pimp theses hoes.".... like..... wtf?? Seriously? The only way I can see why he thought it was ok to say that to me had to be to assume that he was high.. But I knew he wasn't lying because he said "say hi to my daughter" and they got out quick and said "hi! you are sooo pretty!.... Dre, she looks just like you!".. At the time, I didn't know how to take that. After he left, I was a little hurt... and confused... and then that turned into anger because I knew he wasn't always like that. I remember when we had fun and he took me everywhere with him. I wanted him to be the same person he was when I was little and stop becoming just another man in the streets who didn't have his life together and didn't keep any of his promises.
Every time he was locked up, he would send me countless letters that told me he was sorry and he loved me and how he promised that once he got out, it would be different.. But once he did get out, he didn't follow through.. I never wrote him back and he would always call or send a message through my grandma, asking why. I told him it was because I didn't have any stamps.. So when my mom gave me some stamps, I still didnt write.. Because I really had nothing to say and I guess a part of me felt like I didn't have to.
Sooo he was locked up again and the letters started coming again.. I was about 13. I never told him how I felt about everything until one day when I got so mad and hurt that he was in prison again and decided to write him an angry letter. I basically told him that I was sick of everything.. the drive-by meetings, him being in and out of jail, the fake promises.. everything.. He wrote back and told me that I never had to hide anything from him and that things would be different.. And slowly but surely I started writing him more. He asked what was going on in my life and I told him and kept him updated every once in a while. That was sort of my way of forgiving him even though it didn't happen until I was about 16 or 17.. Then, much to my surprise, he started sending me certificates that he had earned from drug rehab and GED training. He told me about all of these classes he was taking and programs for fathers that he went to..
I finally visited him in 08 with my mom before I left for college. He told me he still looks at the letter I sent him when I was 13 as a reminder of what he needs to do when he gets out and how he needs to stay focused.. I honesty believe that he will make an effort to stick to the plan..
Then I surprised him again when me, my grandma and little cousin visited him a few months ago. This time, of course he was alot happier because he knew he only has a few more months in there. This time around, all we did was reminisce, laugh and talk about the future..
It took me a long time to forgive him. I had to learn that in order for me to move on, I had to forgive.. He was 5 years sober and told me that he hadn't even smoked a cigarette in a year either..
I'm really looking forward to him getting out soon.. I cant lie and say that I'm not worried about him and how he'll act once he's out, because I am.. But I cant let that stop me from getting to know him and him getting another chance at being a father.
My dad comes home next month after spending the last 7 or so years in prison..
..It was his second strike and I don't know if I'm more excited or afraid..
At this point in my life, I'm a little numb to the pain of him not being here... yet, I always find myself wondering about what my life could have been if he never had any problems... Problems with the law. Problems with drugs. Problems with family..
As a kid, I was always kept in the dark about what was really going on with him. No one ever wants to tell the kids.. And every time I was told "Camille, your daddy's in jail again", they never told me why. I guess they where protecting his "fatherly image" and didn't want me to resent him.
Whenever he was out, it was like I saw him whenever it was convenient for him.. Like, he would stop by with one of his friends just to be like "look at my daughter!" and then they would always say "Man, she looks just like you"... and that was it. He would kiss me, say hello to whoever was there, promise me that he would be right back, say that he would take me to Disneyland later or some shit and then be gone.. If my mom was there, she would always have a conversation with him; ones that I never heard because she was probably cussing him out for the drive-by meeting..
I remember when I was like 11 or 12 and I was home alone one weekend and he came by in a car with two dusty looking females. He got out and we talked for a little while.. can't really remember the conversation, but it was pretty quick. Then, he gave me a kiss and said "I'll be back later, I'm bout to go pimp theses hoes.".... like..... wtf?? Seriously? The only way I can see why he thought it was ok to say that to me had to be to assume that he was high.. But I knew he wasn't lying because he said "say hi to my daughter" and they got out quick and said "hi! you are sooo pretty!.... Dre, she looks just like you!".. At the time, I didn't know how to take that. After he left, I was a little hurt... and confused... and then that turned into anger because I knew he wasn't always like that. I remember when we had fun and he took me everywhere with him. I wanted him to be the same person he was when I was little and stop becoming just another man in the streets who didn't have his life together and didn't keep any of his promises.
Every time he was locked up, he would send me countless letters that told me he was sorry and he loved me and how he promised that once he got out, it would be different.. But once he did get out, he didn't follow through.. I never wrote him back and he would always call or send a message through my grandma, asking why. I told him it was because I didn't have any stamps.. So when my mom gave me some stamps, I still didnt write.. Because I really had nothing to say and I guess a part of me felt like I didn't have to.
Sooo he was locked up again and the letters started coming again.. I was about 13. I never told him how I felt about everything until one day when I got so mad and hurt that he was in prison again and decided to write him an angry letter. I basically told him that I was sick of everything.. the drive-by meetings, him being in and out of jail, the fake promises.. everything.. He wrote back and told me that I never had to hide anything from him and that things would be different.. And slowly but surely I started writing him more. He asked what was going on in my life and I told him and kept him updated every once in a while. That was sort of my way of forgiving him even though it didn't happen until I was about 16 or 17.. Then, much to my surprise, he started sending me certificates that he had earned from drug rehab and GED training. He told me about all of these classes he was taking and programs for fathers that he went to..
I finally visited him in 08 with my mom before I left for college. He told me he still looks at the letter I sent him when I was 13 as a reminder of what he needs to do when he gets out and how he needs to stay focused.. I honesty believe that he will make an effort to stick to the plan..
Then I surprised him again when me, my grandma and little cousin visited him a few months ago. This time, of course he was alot happier because he knew he only has a few more months in there. This time around, all we did was reminisce, laugh and talk about the future..
It took me a long time to forgive him. I had to learn that in order for me to move on, I had to forgive.. He was 5 years sober and told me that he hadn't even smoked a cigarette in a year either..
I'm really looking forward to him getting out soon.. I cant lie and say that I'm not worried about him and how he'll act once he's out, because I am.. But I cant let that stop me from getting to know him and him getting another chance at being a father.
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
NATURAL HAIR...
I'm almost 8 months natural... *tear*
It has been a liberating, fun, emotional, enlightening, and beautiful ride.
Its almost like it forced me to look at myself from a totally different perspective and allowed me to see the beauty in it.
Of course, I've had my moments of insecurity about it, wondering if people understand the motives behind it or the point that I was trying to make... but after a while, I didn't care because no one had to wear this hair but me.... and I didn't cut all of the permed hair off for anyone...but me.
I didn't research natural hair, different hair textures, natural hair products, growth processes, watch COUNTLESS numbers of YouTube videos about natural hair, read all of the articles about damage from relaxers, learn about chemicals that are constantly put on African American hair that don't do anything but harm it, learn about all of the treatment processes, and the PROPER WAY to wash and comb some damn hair without breaking the ends for anyone...but me.
It took me two years to finally cut it because I was afraid..... I was still a senior in high school contemplating it.. I wasn't afraid of the texture.... just the fact that in order to go natural, you have to cut your hair allll the way down to the new growth, right where the natural and relaxed hair meet.. and that shit was scary. For some reason, there is this stigma in the black community. Most believe beauty is defined by straight hair that reaches or passes your shoulders and if you don't have that, your value drops a few points... I had that (with some chemical help) and was so afraid to let it go..... but after a while, I realized that nobody has to wear it but me..
..and I love it.
It has been a liberating, fun, emotional, enlightening, and beautiful ride.
Its almost like it forced me to look at myself from a totally different perspective and allowed me to see the beauty in it.
Of course, I've had my moments of insecurity about it, wondering if people understand the motives behind it or the point that I was trying to make... but after a while, I didn't care because no one had to wear this hair but me.... and I didn't cut all of the permed hair off for anyone...but me.
I didn't research natural hair, different hair textures, natural hair products, growth processes, watch COUNTLESS numbers of YouTube videos about natural hair, read all of the articles about damage from relaxers, learn about chemicals that are constantly put on African American hair that don't do anything but harm it, learn about all of the treatment processes, and the PROPER WAY to wash and comb some damn hair without breaking the ends for anyone...but me.
It took me two years to finally cut it because I was afraid..... I was still a senior in high school contemplating it.. I wasn't afraid of the texture.... just the fact that in order to go natural, you have to cut your hair allll the way down to the new growth, right where the natural and relaxed hair meet.. and that shit was scary. For some reason, there is this stigma in the black community. Most believe beauty is defined by straight hair that reaches or passes your shoulders and if you don't have that, your value drops a few points... I had that (with some chemical help) and was so afraid to let it go..... but after a while, I realized that nobody has to wear it but me..
Before...
And then I cut it shorter...
And then I cut it all off..
annnd now...
..and I love it.
Awkward.....
Awkward ass few days...
You ever wanted to say something SOOOO bad to somebody but didn't know what to say or how to say it??
..... so when the opportunity comes, you don't say SHIT?
And since you didn't say anything, you regret everything that led up to the awkwardness?..
...yea.. (Slap on the forehead)
I guess I forgot the lady that I was raised to be..
I never was the "Chaser". I was always the one being chased.... "A real lady never chases.."
But for some reason, I ignored everything that I was accustomed to and tried something different..
I mean, I was pursued first.. but after a while I had to put my feelings out there for that person to know... and it was all fine and dandy for a while........ until there was a big ass confusion that I didn't know how to fix.. because I was never the pursuant... nor was I ever the fixer. Too many words left unspoken until yesterday, when there were no words said at all....
So fuck it, I'm letting it go... Confusion is not a fun state of mind.
If something is meant to happen, it will..
until then, adios.
You ever wanted to say something SOOOO bad to somebody but didn't know what to say or how to say it??
..... so when the opportunity comes, you don't say SHIT?
And since you didn't say anything, you regret everything that led up to the awkwardness?..
...yea.. (Slap on the forehead)
I guess I forgot the lady that I was raised to be..
I never was the "Chaser". I was always the one being chased.... "A real lady never chases.."
But for some reason, I ignored everything that I was accustomed to and tried something different..
I mean, I was pursued first.. but after a while I had to put my feelings out there for that person to know... and it was all fine and dandy for a while........ until there was a big ass confusion that I didn't know how to fix.. because I was never the pursuant... nor was I ever the fixer. Too many words left unspoken until yesterday, when there were no words said at all....
So fuck it, I'm letting it go... Confusion is not a fun state of mind.
If something is meant to happen, it will..
until then, adios.
Sunday, May 30, 2010
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