Breaking the Shackles

Dear Bloggers,

Happy February 1^st, and welcome back to my blog!! Now, February marks the start of Black History Month. As I look in the mirror, and see my proud heritage through my skin pigment, I am reminded of how far African Americans have come.

Along with pride, my reflection shows me a woman who still finds herself under captive, and like my forefathers/mothers, I crave freedom. Freedom from the petty things that keep me enslaved to worries and negativity.

Don’t get me wrong. My life is drastically different than it was not only the last time I blogged, but years ago. I’m currently in a relationship with a man that makes me crave to become a better person. I look at my boyfriend and see someone who is knowledgeable of life’s injustices, but doesn’t let them curtail him.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I do like my neuroses. I mean, if Woody Allen can prosper from his, why not keep mine? I’m just saying…

However, like my boyfriend, I would like to be able to put them into perspective. This week, I attempt to break the shackles that have kept me hostage for too long.

THIS WEEK, LET’S DISCUSS!!

The Threat, the FBI, and Tammi

Dear Bloggers,

To me, I believe that humility is being able to place your pride aside and being able to help others, regardless of how you feel. I also believe that humility is a great indicator of what true friendship is.

My freshman year of college, I met a girl who became my best friend. Tammi and I always hung out together, and our sophomore year, we decided to be roommates. We figured that we would have a blast, and it would be a great transition for us. However, we didn't exactly make a good fit as dorm roommates.

Tammi is very neat, and focused. Whereas I'm a bit of a slob, and I need distraction to help me stay on track. Tammi I did have a lot of fun with each other that year, but we also found ourselves arguing alot as well.

The day after a particularly horrible fight, while walking home from class I called my sister to see how she was doing. I only got her voicemail. Resolved to use my cell phone minutes one way or another, I called my home to see what new was going on. My mother answered the phone frantic.

"KENDRA,-I-CAN'T-TALK-RIGHT-NOW!! -SOMEONE-JUST-THREATENED-TO-SHOOT-YOU-SISTER-WITH-A-GUN-ON-HER-COLLEGE-CAMPUS,-YOUR-FATHER-AND-I-ARE-TALKING-TO-THE-FBI!!- BLESSINGS-AND-FAVOR!!" *CLICK*

I stopped in the middle of the street, and traffic started to come. cars started honking at me, and drivers started yelling. A guy dragged me out the middle of the street as I looked stunned. I stood in front of my dorm, with my cell phone still in my hand and didn't know what to do. Horrible thoughts ran through my head: "Is she dead?! Is THAT why she didn't answer her phone?! What type of situation is this? Can I get to her school somehow? Should I call the school?"

I continued to call my sister, and kept on getting her voicemail. With each unanswered phone call, my heart sank a little bit lower, and I cried a little bit harder.

After walking aimlessly around my campus (because sitting around made me feel as if I was about to jump out of my skin), I ran into a friend. Like I was hypnotized I quickly explained my sister situation and kept on walking. Within five minutes, my cell phone was ringing, and I looked and it was Tammi. I answered my phone with a myriad of emotions running through me. I was still upset from the argument the night before, but I really needed one of my best friends.

"Kendra, where are you?"

"I'm at the Union."

"I'll be there in three minutes."

Two and a half minutes later, Tammi found me, and gave me a huge hug. The night before, we both said things that truly hurt each other, however, when Tammi heard what I was going through, she immediately put our argument aside and found me.

The gun threat turned out to be a hoax, but in the midst of the terrible tempest of emotion, I learned how much of an amazing friend Tammi is. Tammi and I still best friends, and we've had good luck being apartment roommates later on. But, I will forever be indebted to Tammi for showing me what a true friend is. Her amazing show of selflessness, in a time that I needed someone the most, cemented our friendship and taught me the true meaning of humility.

STAY ENCOURAGED!!

Running for Humility

Dear Bloggers,


What would you consider to be your greatest test of success? For some, it's having that title of being number one. Others would consider that having genuine joy is their greatest feat of entitlement. But for some, I've realized that their greatest call to success is being able to beat someone else.

Now, I'm not speaking in the sense of competing in a race and winning, or being picked for a job over a list of other candidates. I'm talking about specifically picking a person and making it a goal to beat them.

I was watching an old episode of "Ren and Stimpy" where Stimpy had a fan club and began receiving letters telling him how he was their favorite, and they hated Ren. ("What is he, some type of mosquito?")

For Ren to deal with his feelings of inadequacy, he decided to become Stimpy's Fan Club President. However, that just impacted his feelings, and almost drove him to insanity (and murder... should I have been allowed to watch this as a child...?)

This made me think of instances in my own life where I was put in a position of being around someone who made me feel insecure, or vice versa. I remember staying up late in college looking for obscure quotes from anyone, Nietzsche, Marx, Shakespeare, John Lennon, Bugs Bunny, just to one up this guy who would smugly answer every question the professor said with: "Well, as Robert Frost said..."

I remember in high school girls telling me how they were going to get hair extensions and "it's going to be so much longer than your's." I'm sorry, but when did we start competing? Can I at least stretch first?

It wasn't until I realized that the time I spent to one up certain people in my life, could be used for so many other important things. I decided that instead of seeing this person as a threat, to see them as inspiration to better myself. When I made that decision, I was able to focus more on where I needed improvement. In class, I focused more on what the teacher said, and my own obscure and "deep" quotes and comparisons came much more naturally.

So to you, dear readers, you will always find someone who could challenge your position as top dog in one aspect of your life. However, if you focus more on encouraging yourself, instead of trying to beat the person next to you, you could still win the race your running.

Humility, it's like Gatorade, but for the soul.

STAY ENCOURAGED!!

The Heart of Humility

Dear Bloggers,

Happy Labor Day, and welcome back!! I thank you all very much for having a lot of patience with me while my relationship with my blog teetered due to work. I truly appreciate it, and I thank ALL of you who decided to give me another chance!! To show you just how much I appreciate you all coming back, I’ve brought you something, A NEW TOPIC!!

I moved back home, and finally got a job in publishing. However, with this move came the fact that I had to resubmit myself to the law of my parents. Having my job, and feeling as if I was a grown woman was always fleeting whenever I had to ask my parents for rides to places (because I’m saving up for a car… and a studio apartment in New York City… whichever one comes first is fine with me).

The transition living back home has been admittedly difficult, due to the fact that I feel as if my parents treat me as if I was still in high school, rather than the college graduated, Corporate America working vixen I have become. I was very used to living in a world that whenever I wanted to go somewhere I could, and didn’t have to explain where I was going, who I was going with, how did I know this person, how long was I planning on being out, and why did my head just explode? This has caused tension between my parents and myself, so whenever there’s an opportunity to leave the house, I jump on it like a grasshopper.

This weekend, my friend Jocelyn and I decided to go to a street wide celebration in St. Louis. My alma mater (University of Illinois in Urbana-Champaign) played the Missou Tigers. Jocelyn and I decided to go, at the last minute. While she lives very close to where the celebrating was going down, I had to vie for a ride from my father to take me to the metrolink station.

When my father dropped me off, he made note of a man standing in front of the station, and told me to watch out for him. After rolling my eyes and feeling frustrated that my father doubts my abilities to take care of myself, I got out the car. My father then proceeded to speed off, to catch a tennis match that he was late for. The moment I stepped towards the station to buy my ticket, the mysterious man mumbled something at me: “Ma’am… please call for an ambulance, I think I might be having a heart attack.”

“WHAT?!” I immediately looked back to where my father’s car used to be, and I realized that he was long gone. Time was critical and I needed to do something to help save his life, so I did the only thing I could think of. I asked stupid questions. “What’s the number for an ambulance?!”

“9-1-1.”

“Oh, yeah…”

I called 9-1-1, and proceeded to answer all of the questions for the man, and then after getting very overwhelmed, I just handed him my cell phone, and proceeded to look aimlessly while he described his history of having a bad heart to the 9-1-1 operator. I frantically looked for an ambulance, and listened for a siren that I was sure to come, but never did while I was there.

After he gave me back my phone, and the operator hung up on me, I stood stunned. I looked at the man expectantly. Was his heart going to jump from his throat? Was I supposed to stay there with him? Should I elevate his feet? Should I give him ice chips? Where in the CRAP do I get ice chips at a metrolink station?!!

After a few awkward seconds, I guess the man got tired of me staring at him like he was in a sideshow at a carnival, and politely told me to go away (“Ma’am… I don’t need you anymore. Thank you for helping me, but you can go ahead and catch your train.”)

As I waited for my train to come, I couldn’t help but think about my first reaction, to have my father save the day. I immediately realized that I wasn’t as adult as I thought I was. A strong sense of humility covered me like a wet blanket, and I began to feel as if I was a little girl again.

Humility can be a tough thing to handle, especially when you’ve convinced yourself that you already know all the answers. However, on the other hand, humility could be something to help liberate you from your ignorance and enhance your growing abilities. Regardless, you’re never too young, or too old (like I painfully realized) to receive a lesson that humbles you. When that lesson comes, will you be a willing student? This week, LET’S DISCUSS!!

STAY ENCOURAGED!!

When Good Birds Go Bad

Dear Bloggers,

I once heard that there are three sides to every story; one person’s perspective, the second person’s, and the truth. Now readers, how many times have you been sitting around, had a friend come into the same area that you were in and give you the silent treatment? Confused, you confront them, and they say: “You know what you did!!” When rethinking about the situation, you remember your friend being in the wrong, not you. Then, YOU get defensive and begin to get upset. You’re poor mutual friends don’t know which way to go, because both of you have very legitimate reasons for your anger. But, there seems to be something that’s missing, an integral part of the story that makes each side stick together to reveal that it was all a big error.

I’ve had this happen to me many times in my life, but I’m going to share the most ridiculous one. It was all a big misunderstanding, but they didn’t want to listen to reason…

One morning during the summer going into my freshman year of college I was awoken by the beautiful sounds of a bird singing on my window ledge. Feeling extremely blessed that this bird picked my windowsill, I woke up feeling refreshed and happy. I felt even more uplifted when her husband joined her the next day or so, and they started building a nest on my ledge. As I witnessed their eggs appear in the nest, I felt as if I was a distant family member with this bird family.

One afternoon, there was a horrible storm, and the next morning, I found that the bird’s nest was no longer outside my window. Feeling a little sad that the storm took the birds away, I discounted it and returned to my passion of watching television. However, the birds came back…

The birds began attacking me and my family, and actually holding us hostage whenever we tried to leave (*opening the garage door, and seeing one of the bird’s shadow hopping in front of the door, just waiting…*). They began diving after us, and they actually CHASED ME down the street!! I could see why they were so upset, but they couldn’t comprehend that the storm was the reason for their abortion, not me.

Right when my family and I thought that we would be prisoners in our house for the rest of the summer, the birds committed suicide!! SERIOUSLY!! Those kamikaze birds did a straight nose dive into the ground, breaking their own necks.

Now, due to the wrong misperception of that bird family, I can’t stand any birds now… unless their cooked on my plate.

STAY ENCOURAGED!!

Diving In

Dear Bloggers,

There are very few things that scare me. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m not totally fearless, and I’m easily startled (my fight or flight reflexes are constantly on alert). But there are two things that seriously causes me extreme anxiety and the thought can bring me to tears.

The first thing is DEEP water. When I was in seventh grade I took swimming lessons, and while trying to learn to do a dive, I started drowning. If you thought that that was the end of my drowning escapades, then you would be wrong. I almost drowned a total of five times. Due to those moments, I have an extreme fear of deep water. So, I stay in the shallow end of pools, lakes, and oceans.

The second thing is dating. Now, I’ve never had this fear before, but after my last relationship (which ended with me having an eating disorder and going to therapy), I’ve also found myself staying in the shallow end of the dating pool as well. But, it’s not only that relationship, but the molestation I dealt with when I was younger, or a HORRIBLE thing an “ex” did to me after we broke up (he was the first person I told about being molested, so when we broke up, he not only told everyone in his class, he also told me that I was “a slut, and that’s why you got molested”). Then, on top of all of that, I’ve witnessed people close to me have their significant others cheat on them, or beat them, or viciously verbally abuse them.

Now, whenever I feel myself becoming attracted to a guy, I feel myself experiencing panic attacks and second guessing everything. There’s a fear of “what type of dudes do I attract?” “What if it’s worse than before?” “What if I can’t get out?”

I stand out on the docks of the lake and life while my friends try to encourage me, with promises of: “This time it’ll be different. Just jump in, and you’ll be fine” However, that fear leaves me paralyzed, wanting to trust them, but still unsure of what diving in would mean for me.

Just like the beautiful HUMONGOUS lake that finalizes the scenery around my job, I look at it and dating with a combination of desire and fear. The desire of wanting to jump in, experience those blissful first days of getting to know someone. Spending time with someone and realizing all the interesting things you have in common. Swimming in those feelings of first attraction and succumbing to the waves of realization that you’re not just physically attracted to this person, but you’re attracted to their personality as well. Kicking through the tumultuous times, and overcoming the ebb to realize that not only you, but your bond is strong than it was when you first started.

Everyday, while I walk to the office, I look at the water, a sense of longing in my eyes, thinking that one day, I will conquer my fear. One day, I’ll be able to let those past incidents be just that, past incidents that doesn’t necessarily dictate my future. In the same sense, I have the same hopes of dating. One day, I’ll be able to dive in, not only in the water, but in love, with the trust that the water/ my boyfriend will catch me, comfort me, soothe those fears, and reassure me that this time, I won’t go under. Until then, I’ll work on moving from the shallow end.

STAY ENCOURAGED, AND HAVE AN AMAZING WEEKEND!! SEE YOU ALL MONDAY!!

S-U-C-C-E-S-S Spells Fear

Dear Bloggers,

Success seems to be the ultimate landmark for many, the ulitmate form of immortality. But for some, even though they crave success, they also fear it. With the ultimate contradiction of human nature, many people sit on talents, and great ideas in fear of "What if it ACTUALLY works?"

My buddies, I have to admit, I sometimes have this fear too. I find myself hesitating, on ideas (it took me months to even start this blog, because of fear of no one reading it, or worse, EVERYONE reading it) or people (making new friends, or dating). There's a never ending paradox that runs through my head sometimes of "What ifs."

"What if I fail? Will people be expecting it? Will people look down on me? What if I'm not as good as I thought I was? What if he hurts me? What if I hurt him?"

Then, my questions of: "What if it DOES work out? Could I handle all of it?" This constant form of questioning put me in the mindset of Sisyphus. Constantly rolling a boulder up a hill, just so it can roll back down again.

I'm beginning to get to the point where I see how ridiculous constantly rolling a boulder up the same hill is, and I decided that I was going to roll it past the precipice. Do I still have the fear of failing AND succeeding? OF COURSE!! But now, my fear is being immobile. Stuck like Atlas, carrying the worries of my world on my shoulders.

Well readers, instead of being immobilized by my fear, I started to become empowered by it. My hope is that you can all do the same.

STAY ENCOURAGED!!