On Becoming Human

When I was small, my father insisted that I use jumbo pink erasers to clear the errors off the pages of my homework. In his opinion, the erasers on the back on the number two pencils that I gripped tightly in my small hands didn't do an adequate enough job. In fact, instead of giving my assignments a more pristine look, they often left harsh dark smudges or worst yet, ripped holes in my notebook paper if I pressed down too roughly. Only the flaky pink residue of those ridiculous looking erasers were good enough for him, and though it infuriated me at the time, soon they were the only things I reached for. Though I stumbled often and still continue to stumble, that quest for perfection, to erase the mistakes, and to wipe my soul, spirit and heart clean has stuck with me into adulthood. In college, I once argued with a professor over an A- that I'd received in her class. Before dates, I would spend hours preparing showering, scrubbing and moisturizing my skin, painstakingly getting my makeup just right. Even now, I agonize over my articles, searching desperately for any errors that I may have missed (and inevitably there's always something ), only to have some commentator under my work either harshly or politely gather me for a misspelled word, or incorrect date or misused term. No matter how small, it rips me open, and I commence with agonizing over what I could have or should have done.  Lately, I've been working overtime to try and squash that, to embrace my imperfections and my humanity. To be OK with my errors and my size, my mistakes and my faults. More often than not, I've been excelling.  I awake looking forward to my day, I'm mostly sure at work where I've taken on considerable responsibilities. I look in the mirror daily and though I'm far from perfect I mostly like what I see. I embrace my breakouts and my scars, my cellulite and the bags that have suddenly appeared until my mid-twenty something eyes. There is no pink fluffy jumbo eraser for life, no magic solution to make everything clean again. Instead, the scars my life have born are embedded in my soul and my pain lives in my bones. It's only a dull aching at times, but it's always present. And despite all of this I've learned to love, and to thrive and to press forward and preserve. I've become human.

xoxox Chocolate Girl in the City xoxoxox

Images: Aramide Tinubu, GIPHY

Why Gabby's Story and Her Win Are So Important

Disclaimer: Now let me start off by saying that if you are one of the fools that have anything negative to say  about this girl specifically with regards to the hair on her head (which in most cases is very similar to the hair growing out the top of yours) please feel free to KILL YOURSELF. And I mean that with all sincerity. 

But I digress, now I'm certainly not Olympics obsessed but I have been following Gabby's story for a bit. I read an article in the beginning of July about her struggle to the Olympics. She moved away from her family in Virgina to live with a family in Iowa so that she could be trained by her world renowned  coach While she was doing this her parents were getting a divorce and her father was being deployed once again to Afghanistan.  And if any of you like me remember what it was like to be sixteen, I certainly don't know how she did it. The way for hormones were ragging back then, I would have given up and went home. Gabby just proves that though shit may get tough the last thing that you want to do is underestimate yourself, people are already gonna do that for you.

Before the gymnastics team grabbed gold, people weren't even talking about Gabby they were talking about her teammate Jordyn Wieber. Wieber still did wonderfully but all of the hype probably did not help her and as 1996 Olympian Dominique Dawes says, Gabby was able to slip under the radar and grab the all around gold for individual gymnast, the first Black person EVER to do so. (Its cray t=its 2012 and we can still say the first Black person to ever do something.)

Why is this so dope? Its like having Michelle Obama as the first lady, or Princess Tiana as the first Black Disney princess. Gabby is up there for me. The reason why I'm obsessed with Black film is because of the images that it provides. It gives Black people (more specifically children), no matter what their situation or circumstance, the opportunity to see people who look like them doing things that they may have never dreamed were attainable. And I think for people who can't see past their neighborhoods or even today that's so important. There's no reason to settle for what is 'expected' of you. Obviously there are always obstacles, and because life isn't fair some people have more obstacles than others. However, I know for me its always been helpful when I can look up to people who look like me doing things people always say they couldn't do. Gabby's win does so much for our community making history obviously, but also things like fitness and health and even our very apparent issues about hair could certainly be addressed.

I've personally always been too terrified to do a simple forward role. (Something about my feet bing over my head)  But seeing Gabby fly has been glorious :)

xoxoxox Chocolate Girl In the City xoxoxoxoxox