Growing up

I am nineteen years old. I'll be twenty in a month and a half.
Developmentally I've always felt a little bit ahead, even as a child, whether that is an illusion of my ego or just the truth.
Over the past several months, I feel like I have grown an incredible amount, the amount that some people spend over years. My most trusted mentor at Sonoma sat across from me yesterday and ran over the ways I've changed just since the past semester. It was weird looking back with her to the time I was a freshman to now. I could have lived five or six years in that time.
In particular, the time over the past six months has been difficult and testing of me in every way imaginable. I have gotten through things with the support of family and friends and mentors like Julie, but most of my strength came from a source within that has always been there.

I think back to even a few months ago, when even the slightest obstacle or event in my day could irritate me on command. This isn't so anymore, because there is no point in looking at the world this way other than to make myself miserable. It sounds simple to just look at the world in a positive light, but it is much more easily said than done. The person who told me this ended up hurting me more than anyone ever has, and I still live by it. But she couldn't have taught me anything if I wasn't ready to discover it by myself, and I have. I can't help but be thankful for the entire experience, even the agony, because who knows how long it would have taken me to learn some things if she had never been there? Even today I was with a friend who was rushing me, which feels like something I would have done months ago. But in the end, things are going to take as long as they are meant to take, and if we try to rush through them the universe will just put an obstacle in front of us to keep us waiting. T.I.M.E is "this I must enjoy," not "this I must endure." For every person who cuts in front of me there are going to be two to cut in front of them. I remind myself constantly that this applies to the process of forgiveness, which sometimes takes more time than I would like it to, but it is what it is and rushing forgiveness only makes it more difficult and not genuine.

I am ultimately my source for everything. Sure, people can point me in the right direction of something, even a simple resource, but it is up to me as to whether or not I want to or am ready to pursue my own personal growth. It hasn't been an easy task, but I feel a lot happier now. I've grown so much I don't even recognize myself half the time; some parts of myself I laugh at and others I am surprised by constantly. Who is this new person?

The new person is confident, strong, and independent. Michal's here!

Colorism in the African-American community

It's no secret to the Black community that there are issues between light skinned folks, and darker skinned folks and everyone in between.
This is something I've had a rude awakening to for...well, my entire life.
As a child I really never understood why I would be so disrespected and constantly harassed and abused by other Black girls. There were days that I would pretend to be sick or avoid going to school for as long as possible because the teasing would get so bad. Through high school and college the situation has not improved much, but that is partially do to my personal experience of rejection from the greater African-American community, and fear to even attempt entering into it again.
As a people, this attitude must change. We are all striving towards similar things and pushing for continued civil rights, yet we discriminate constantly within our own community. We have witnessed biracial president Barack Obama's election as a huge moment in our history, accept him into our community, yet are quick to reject a sister or brother because they are "too dark" or "too light" skinned.
I am very light in complexion, but both parents and sets of grandparents are African-American. My family ranges in complexion from deep, rich chocolate, to coffee with cream to very light. One of my uncles is even lighter than me and has blue eyes and red hair, and one can only imagine the struggles he went through growing up in the civil rights era.
I have privilege because of my skin color. I have never rejected this, because there is no point in rejecting it. America values lighter skin over darker skin; this has been proven in a myriad number of statistics and data. But what I challenge us to think about is the fact that we all come from similar ancestry. I have had to contemplate the painful history of enslavement and rape and cruelty that most of us have. I have the same frustrations with encountering racism and folks that don't understand what it is like to be the only student of color in my classes.
We should all be united by similar struggles, not standing divided because of our skin colors.
Start confronting someone with their assumptions about how dark-skinned Black people are "too mean" or "too dark" and likewise about how light-skinned people are "stuck up" and "get everything they want."
I am not a "stuck up" Black woman - I fully acknowledge the opportunities I have because of both the way I look and my social class. But I cannot change my skin color, and neither can any of us.
How can we confront racism in a broader context when such a huge problem and animosity exists in our community?

Time alone

I used to feel depressed or like I had done something wrong if I spent hours or days to myself.
I would tell myself stories about how I had no friends and no one wanted to hang out with me, or convince myself that there was something wrong with me. I would convince myself that I was antisocial and unfriendly.
I've always known that I'm an introvert. I get my energy from a source inside of myself and from being alone. I interact well with others and like to have fun, but know that at the end of the day I need to close my door to outsiders.
Now, at the start of the semester, I can spend a full day by myself and, well... feel absolutely fine about it.
I realize now that this is probably some gradual shift in being happier. The reason I would feel guilty or depressed about spending so much time alone is that I was not happy with myself, and needed to feel complete by constantly being with friends or lovers so that I felt appreciated. It sounds pretty common if we stop and take a moment to think about it - the addictive turns that relationships can sometimes take often have to do with wanting to feel loved because we are incapable of loving ourselves.
But I don't need anyone to love me anymore because I, myself and the most important person to myself, loves me.
I recognize now that I need to appreciate myself, and I do. My acts of turning down offers to go out, reading by myself and taking care of myself by myself, are an act of self respect and appreciation, a sense of self worth that I have only recently obtained.
Today I stayed in my room, played my guitar and started writing a song, did some reading for a class, took an extra long shower, laid in bed and watched baseball. To me this doesn't sound like a productive day in terms of "getting things done."
But the importance of self refection and meditation is essential for me.
I think Saturdays will be my day, so please don't ask me to hang out.
I've got a hot date with myself.

Strangers on planes

Yesterday I was flying from St. Louis to Atlanta.
The man I was sitting next to looked very familiar to me for some reason, but I had never met him before in my life. He was an older man, probably in his mid-forties or early fifties, and I later learned that his name was Chuck.
Me and Chuck hit it off immediately, and talked non-stop for the entire two-hour flight.
We talked about my career aspirations, Eckhart Tolle, political affiliations, homophobia, high school experiences... you name it. We talked about the lessons we had learned and were learning in life, he asked me if I had a girlfriend, and I told him why I didn't.
While I was going over some painful recollections I never once thought, "This dude is a complete stranger." I felt entirely comfortable, and from the best I could tell so did he.
He shared his stories about past loves and loves lost, how he met his current wife, and everything in between. I did the same, still not even realizing that I was probably revealing far too much about myself to a complete stranger on a plane.
But I realize something now. Without sharing who I am and the places I've been with other people, whether they are strangers or not, I would learn very little about who I am. I would learn nothing about others, either. I would learn nothing about the positive aspects of being alive. Love is not simply something that is shared between two people, it's all around us. My openness with Chuck was me loving myself, putting myself out there as 100% me and not regretting a word. He could have judged me like many others have, but would his judgment have mattered?
I believe now (and have always believed, but this conversation just reinforced it) that being vulnerable is an attribute of the strong. What could be more brave than putting yourself out there, being completely honest and open about life, even when there is no reason to trust the person you're talking to? Being closed off rarely solves anything.
Being closed off rarely solves anything. I smiled as I wrote that sentence... what can denying myself pleasure or love or attraction because of something someone else did possibly solve? I understand now, through talking to Chuck and having conversations with my notebook, that I have been afraid to be vulnerable. I have no problem sharing parts of my life with people I know and people who I don't, but currently the idea of sharing my heart with someone makes me close up completely. That's something I'm going to have to get past, in time.
When I was done with my story (the long and overly-dramatic tale about the past five months and the lessons I've learned), he pulled his business card out of his wallet and said, "You obviously need some type of closure. Call me when you've called her."
I laughed and asked him if he thought he would still remember me in twenty years.
My life is a paradox.

Looking back through sophomore year

A friend of mine recently wrote about his third-year adventures in his blog, through his leadership and personal experiences, and inspired me to reflect on the previous year.
It feels weird to think about, as if I'm a world away from it now. Success, failure, love, heartbreak... last year was an emotional roller coaster with chances to learn at every opportunity. Because of the experiences I had sophomore year, I have grown personally, intellectually, and as a leader.
I came into the year with a full plate already: 17 units, a peer mentor for UNIV 102, an active member in the cast of the Vagina Monologues, and as President of the school's Queer-Straight Alliance. I was nervous, unsure of myself, and lacking in confidence, but I managed to perform successfully academically and to the best of my abilities to my students and club members.
Reflecting now, I realize that I probably wasn't well-prepared for some of the things the year required of me. I had a desire to prove myself but little confidence to do it, something I still struggle with at times.
I come into my third year knowing my strengths and weaknesses.
I still have a desire to prove myself, one of my qualities that can be either an asset or a setback. Julie has had to remind me at least a dozen times that I don't need to have my hands in EVERY aspect of student leadership to "prove" myself. After working summer orientations this summer, I have a new found confidence and enthusiasm for working with students. I know how to relate to them and use my experiences to reassure them.
At the same time, I constantly need to remind myself that I am in COLLEGE to be a STUDENT, among other things, but first and foremost a student. I also am a feeler, and need to learn how to think through decisions before instinctively going with what raw emotions tell me. At times, being a feeler has benefited me (in personal relationships, being able to empathize with others), and others, it has been a detriment (impacting others negatively by decisions made because of my own emotional needs).
I went through some of the hardest times I've ever experienced in the spring semester of sophomore year, for several reasons, but times that I realize now are vital to my development. I could not have gotten through any of it without constant support from my friends and family, but ultimately it was me who toughed it out and rose to the occasion, earning my highest semester GPA since being in college. I feel stronger than I ever have before, more independent, less concerned by intimate relationships and things that aren't going to matter in the larger scheme of things. Still there are downsides to these experiences. I enter this year with no intention of dating, no intention of trusting, no intention of "letting anyone in." Some call that cynicism, I call it survival. But the fact that I recognize my own cynicism proves my rising level of consciousness and self-awareness. The pain I was in did not have the potential to change who I was inside, yet I was harsh and sharply unforgiving in the face of it. I am still learning that forgiveness, especially of myself, is a very long process.
There were many challenges in sophomore year, and some of those challenges were self-created. I learned that the greatest obstacle to my happiness was myself and my attitude. It has been a painful and confusing process, and one that I'm still going through, but one that I place highest on my priority list.
This year will be the busiest so far, with a high unit load and my first advanced leadership position of my undergraduate career. But I have every intention of it being the best one.

Alone but not lonely

I'm not entirely sure I believe in this "other half" business.
Why is it we're constantly fed the message that something is missing in our lives, something that can only be filled with the presence of another person?
I definitely believed in the other half at some point, as many of us do. I think it's normal that I felt complete with someone, or that what was missing was finally there.
But what was really missing is contentment with myself. I don't care who you are, if you're not happy with yourself, you can't be 100% happy even when you have the most amazing person ever right by your side.
When what we perceive as our "other half" is suddenly taken away from us, it hurts like hell. Worse than almost anything. (Fuck, I haven't been using "I" statements, have I?)
I need to learn how to enter a relationship as already whole and content with myself, because if I don't, it will hurt worse and worse the closer I cling onto that other half. But I'm living without that other half right now, aren't I?
We do crazy things out of the fear of being alone. Jumping into relationships that have warning signs we choose to ignore, before we're ready, before we've thought things through, before we've dealt with a different relationship...
I've been guilty of almost all of those things except for the last.
There is nothing wrong with being alone. But we get fed constant messages that there is. "When are you going to get married?" "Find singles in your area!" "Make it work!"
My position is a cynical one, and yet I'm happier than I've ever been.
Even when I've had wonderful partners, really close friends and whatnot, I feel more happier now than I ever was with them.
Why? Because I forced myself to look at myself, take care of myself, and understand that I've been me all along, without anyone to help me. Now, my true love could be standing right in front of me and I may not know it.
But I doubt it. True love begins with me.

Hey there, Oreo

"If I didn't know any better, I would have thought you were white."
"Which one of your parents is white?"
"You're the whitest black person I've met!"
In the end, it doesn't really matter how I identify myself to myself and to others. It is ultimately their choice how they decide to see me and judge me.
Both of my parents are African-American, and each of their parents are African-American. Therefore, I identify as African-American. (Not bi-racial, not anything else a person could assume.)
My skin color has been the cause of a lot of struggle throughout my entire life. Black folks constantly say that I'm "too white," or assume that I think I'm better than them. This couldn't be farther form the truth. Black folks are all different shades and colors. One of my uncles was born with practically white skin, blue eyes and orange hair while my brother is a deep shade of chocolate.
So maybe it's true that I don't "act Black enough" or "dress Black enough" or "talk Black enough." But by saying that, are you not perpetuating stereotypes that have been used against the African-American community for decades? And maybe, just maybe I don't identify with that culture because I haven't been invited into it.