30

“When someone shows you who he is, believe him.”

February 18th- Writing at night in a cafe

I am less than 4 months away from 30. Thirty, the pinnacle of adulthood, of figuring things out, of beauty, of confidence.

My upper 20s have been good to me, because like many, my early 20s weren't.

Asking for things and having needs felt neurotic and shameful.
There was a lot of growing up that had to be done during those formative years and a lot of that had to do with saying, "no, you can't shame me and put me down so that you can have power. Or no, I'm not here to make you feel bigger at my own expense." The upper 20s were about learning how to smell that from 1000 miles away.

I found my standards for what I expect out of my education.
I found my passion for girls of color and for social justice.
I found my standards for how I would allow others to treat me.
And most vitally, I found my standards for how men would and would not treat me. And I've held tight to what I know is right, knowing fair-well that men, and particularly men of color, are accustomed to making the excuses for why they act the way they do towards women... of color. They expect us to take the punishment. At one point, after college, after 25, I said "nahhh, I'm good."
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"Guess I went ahead and jumped the gun again. It's a shitty situation that I put you in." - X-Ambassadors.

People do what they want. You can't coerce them. You can't baby them. And if they don't act the right way, it is a choice that they make purposefully....

is what I believe. It's what I know in each fiber of my being to be true. And it's what my grandmothers and great-grandmothers also know and have passed on to me in my DNA. I did a lot of pulling teeth and forgiving when I was younger, until I almost stopped being kind to me.

More and more, it's been no nonsense. Because my life is not something to pour nonsense into. And I don't want to be a "strong woman." I don't want to be a "ride or die." I want to be valued and respected.

Yet, the other side of the coin that has me questioning is a thing called
softness... and its sister, human-ness.

 I wonder if I have completely lost track of some of that when it comes to interacting with those who harm me. Or who pose a threat. Because of human nature and human pain, those things are so omnipresent and cyclical.
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As I've written one billion times prior, I want things to come with genuine ease... with near childhood joy and excitement... with no scars of jadedness that I (us women of color) then have to absorb... irregardless of the spears that have been thrown at "our men" 

I want transparency. I don't want to be put in a position where I have to forgive.

Thirty excites me. I think about raising young boys in this world who can grow into transparent, loving men, who strengthen the foundations that women lay.

I think about my voice and what I no longer silence. I think about my grandmothers every day, and the DNA they pass through me. And I think about how blessed I am for each moment and each day. And it's beautiful.

And I think about sharing that and inviting that into my world AND being strong enough to trust the process, whether the ancestors say hold tight to your heart and expect others to do right by you or they choose to say, let out a little forgiveness, cross an ocean for the other.

If nothing else, you can say you've crossed an ocean.

The question is, do you let the waves that splash on your face heal you or scar you. What does it mean to be worthy?

"In case my lack of reply had you catching them feelings,
Know you've been on my mind like Kaepernick kneeling
Or police killings
Or Trump saying slick shit
Manipulating poor white folks because they ignite
Blind to the struggle of the ones that got the pigment
Lately I've been stressing 'cause it seems so malignent
I need to feel your essence in my presence if you're with
I guarantee you won't regret you did it" -J Cole- "Come through and Chill" remix