The decision to participate in the vaccination process did not come lightly. Truthfully, I am currently balancing on a tight rope of gratitude, privilege, health anxiety, and fear. There’s still so much that is unknown about the vaccines and the virus itself. As an early recipient, I wanted to share my experience openly and honestly. The purpose of this is not to convince you to receive the vaccine or not. As someone that is just like you, fearful, skeptical, concerned, and a host of other feelings/emotions, I want you to have an account from a real person.
As a therapeutic exercise, I wrote a letter to my younger self, offering career advice and kindness on the long, professional road ahead that would await them. It was a reminder to myself to be compassionate about my choices and to keep my mind open to the possibilities we have yet to encounter.
An apology is usually reserved for some form of wrong-doing or disrespect, intentionally or unintentionally. If you’re not doing anything wrong, then there’s no need to apologize. If you’re like me, you know that’s much easier said than done. There are a lot of reasons you may be an over apologizer, but it doesn’t have to be a life-long identity.
If you’re a long-time follower of my blog, you may recall posts that discuss my discomfort with sharing my blog with my family and friends. I listed it as a goal, trying to convince myself that one day I would overcome my fears and insecurities and share with the people around me. Well the time has come.
If you have ever experienced a crisis, which looks different for everyone, you may have experienced an overwhelming loss of control. The heaviness of everything weighing on you prevents you from being able to think, speak, feel, and act as you would if you were well. Your family and friends, who may or may not know your behaviors, also do not know how to act. It’s very isolating and scary. Developing a crisis plan is a tool to assist yourself and your loved ones with managing your care in the event of a crisis
This year, as chaotic as it’s been, has allowed me time for introspection. Today, 7/27, is my birthday; I have a lot to say to my younger self. They should be very proud.
I’ve been weird all my life, not fitting in and feeling pressured to do so. I have a new appreciation for weirdness and being a weird Black kid; this is my love note to all the others.
Permitting yourself to be authentic is beautiful, but it takes practice, trust, and safety. We hear over and over that we should be ourselves, without the warning that it needs to fit someone else’s design.
Black womxn are at the crossroads of all social issues; poverty, racism, sexism, homelessness, homophobia, reproductive rights, and classism are only a few examples. The experiences and stories of Black womxn are unacknowledged and erased, yet, they are expected to bear the emotional and physical labor of pushing these movements forward.
Our skin, as beautiful and as shimmering as it is, is ribboned with cautionary tales from our ancestors; intricately weaved to remind us that our history is not distant at all, we confront it each day.