Atonement

Last night I sat in the dark listening to “Umi Says” on repeat refusing to stop the flow of tears down my cheeks. In that moment if I had the ability to loop one line over and over again it would have been this:“I ain’t no perfect man, I’m trying to do the best that I can with what it is I have.”It would seem lately that has become my motto. I’m far from perfect. Sometimes I wish that I was still gifted with the ability to pretend that I am, that I still had the capacity to say “I’m fine” and push whatever it is I’m feeling just far enough below the surface that people believe me or at least have the comfort of knowing they don’t have to deal with it. Both sadly and fortunately enough I can no longer do this, but it hasn’t been until now that I truly regret not being able to control my emotions as well as I once did. Being completely open with someone, completely comfortable and trusting enough to let them see you at your worst is a rare thing. It’s standing in front of someone and saying “Here I am. In all my faults, flaws, failures and fears. Please be able to look past this and love me.” That, in all its glory, is the hardest thing in the world to do, but having any hesitation in it being accepted is like a knife through the heart. Here you are, heart on sleeve, walls down, soul exposed to the world and you realize how cold it can be when you’re standing there waiting. I waited for years. I suppressed for years. I died for years and I refuse to do it anymore. When I came back home in April, I figured this was a clean slate, a new foundation to build on and in the months since I have accomplished very little in terms of what I thought I would. I will admit that it’s hard watching the world move around you and each day you feel the gap widening and you’re trying to jump that valley and each time you bruise yourself a little more. At what point are you so bruised that you can’t stand up to jump? At what point do you stop chasing after the caravan and realize the desert is all around you? The caravan isn’t stopping and you have no choice except to fend for yourself.I am standing here, all that I am in the palm of my hands offering it and once that offer’s retracted it, it’s gone forever. I need to salvage the little bits of me I have left. If it takes me standing alone and fighting like I have been then I will. I’ve learned time and time again over the years that in the end all I have is me.  

Good News

Look for my poems “Kind of Blue” and “See-Line Woman” in the Fall Ars Poetica issue of The Amistad, Howard University’s literary journal.

My Favorite Season

A perfect afternoon: beautiful weather, windows down, back roads full of curves, A Tribe Called Quest anthology on repeat

Revenge of the Grown and Sexy

I told my better half the other night that I hadn’t been blogging because I didn’t want every entry to be sad and depressing. It’s true. I noticed a definite pattern of when and what I wrote. It usually was purely emotional and I recognized I needed to stop it. For a while there on my first blog I hit my stride. I wrote about what I wanted to write about and sometimes it was good and sometimes it was bad. After I erased those entries and started another blog everything that followed hasn’t stayed positive for very long. I, of course, know the reasons why. I’ve talked about them sometimes on this blog and the others, but I’ve never really gotten deep into what’s going on. I probably never will. It’s for the best really Personal things are to be dealt with internally or at least with those who are experiencing it with you right?

It’s one thing to write about some instances of trouble and heartache on your blog, but to put everything out there regardless of whom or what you may damage is irresponsible, a little bit selfish and a whole lot biased if you ask me. But I digress. The point of this entry is to say that I have to again promise myself I am going to write more. I want to get back to where I was in December of 2005 when I started to get into the feel of writing down my thoughts and observations .I think I need it to be honest.

So what to talk about? Let’s see. I think I’ve hit that “almost 30” wall. I’ve realized over the last few months that my personal style and tastes have changed. I’ve been so many Athenas over the years. I was boho Athena with the afro, head wrap, incense and the like. I was corporate Athena flying away on business trips and using an expense report. There have been a few others over the years, but its taken these last two years to really figure out what I want and the person I really want to be. I’ve learned she’s a little vain, she’s like nice things, but is frugal. She’s stubborn and caring. She’s intelligent and flawed. She’s fractured and she’s fighting everyday to make things work. So now that I know all of this what does it mean?

It means that the basics of what I want to present are changing. From my clothes to possibly my hair to what I want to drive to the causes I support to what I eat are now solely about making myself happy. I don’t want to fit into someone’s box. I don’t want to have to conform to non-conformity. I just want to be me.

That said I need to go shopping. Really I do! I have a very specific idea of what I want to wear in my head and I need to make my wardrobe reflect that. Like I said, I’m approaching my thirties and to be honest I don’t want to dress like a broke college student anymore (I still get mistaken for someone who’s younger, but I guess that will be a bonus in coming years). I want simple, clean, tailored designs and I’m going to start building a wardrobe piece by piece to get it.

I’ve been contemplating cutting off my hair as well. Its not that I want to fit some mold. I love my hair to be blunt. Of all the styles I’ve ever had this one fits me the best. I love how it feels when it touches my skin, I love to see it growing longer and longer, but sometimes I want something simple and slick or at least my afro back. I’m thinking about it seriously. It’s been five years of growing my locs and I want to continue, but we’ll see.

As for my car? I test drove and almost bought an SUV about two weeks ago, but when they tried to jack up the monthly payment I walked away. I’ve decided that I’m going to hold onto Mingus until he’s paid off in a few years and then get a Mercedes. Why do I want one? Not as a status symbol, but because I like their styling and I can see myself in a black sports car just like them. So I’ll do what I have to do and get one.

So yea, I’d like to think over the next few months Athena will be getting her grown woman on.