This time last year I…
I was…
Low
Dragging behind the flow.
Quiet externally.
Loud internally.
Silenced.
I was…
Worried about myself.
My mental health.
Me.
This time last year I...
I was…
Desperate for a change.
Tired of the same routine.
Tired of feeling undervalued.
Unappreciated.
Unworthy.
Disrespected.
I cried most days.
In my car before work.
I cried most days.
In my car at lunch.
I cried most days.
In my car after work.
I cried most days.
Who am I kidding?
I cried everyday.
This time last year I…
I had written a whole op-ed piece about how eff'd up the education system is.
How horribly teachers are being treated.
How these initiatives in attempt to save Black boys from the school to prison pipeline, has in turn over sexualized and/or forgotten about Black girls.
I used evidence from my life as a case study.
Real time experience.
I had over 8 years of evidence.
Documented.
Written.
This time last year...
I was a teacher in the system.
I was a guardian of a Black girl child in the system.
Real time experience.
Over 8 years of evidence.
Documented.
Written.
This time last year I…
I had a “send it when you’re ready and we'll publish” email thread.
Two editors.
I pitched our story to.
The exposé of the year!
I declared whenever I got out I was gonna whistleblow the house down!
“Got out.”
That term stings because...
This time last year…
I felt stuck.
Stuck in hurt.
Stuck in frustration.
Stuck in self doubt.
Stuck in silence.
Stuck in defeat.
This time last year…
All year
I hid in the corner of an open multipurpose space.
Dislocated.
Secluded.
Grateful it had windows to look out at the promise in the sky.
Wishing I could live in the sky.
This time last year...
My therapist was trying to help me navigate dating.
I enjoyed her pep talks knowing damn well I had no plans on dating.
I just liked talking to her.
She was non judgmental.
Kind.
Funny.
Darkskinned like me.
I never really wanted to talk about what was really going on.
Lied about doing the assigned homework.
But loyal to the space she created for me to just be...last year.
This time last year...
After a few sessions my therapist called me out.
She say, I was "avoiding dealing with what was really troubling me."
She wasn't wrong.
I didn't feel like talking about that.
I would have rather talked about the journal I was keeping of all the cannabis strains I had tried so far.
I took copious notes!
I dream of opening my own dispensary.
I wondered if she smoked?
Still do.
Sis saw straight through my BS.
I could tell she saw in me the same beauty you see when you see straight through the pristine waters of Pelican Beach.
I wished I saw it myself.
What she saw in me,
My iridescence.
I'm teal.
Cerulean.
Deeper shades of green.
Mahogany.
I dream in canary.
This time last year...
I was eatin' apples.
Intermittent fasting.
My increased water intake Mike Tyson'd my Holyfield bladder.
I even hired someone to do my meal prep.
Sis made good brussels and pepper medley.
Teased me about ordering the same protein all the time.
Salmon and ground Turkey.
Clean eats.
I miss it.
I was intentionally eatin’ “right.”
For the millionth time.
This time last year...
I was writing cover letter after cover letter.
Applying for job after job.
Paid buku bucks to revamp my resume.
Sent my resume to every company, in every industry, I thought would hire me.
Even though all I really wanted to do was live a carefree, unproblematic, multi hyphenate artistic life and get paid.
I would go through several long interview processes, only to not get the job.
I even applied to write people’s profiles on dating apps.
Ironic.
Don't tell my old therapist.
This time last year...
I prayed the next year would change but honestly didn’t believe it would.
Boy, did God prove me wrong!
This time last year didn’t see this time this year coming.
I don’t know if I was ready or not, but I damn sure hit the ground running.
Changing with the new year brings new peace and continued healing.
My peace is invaluable.
My future is magical.
This year I got my hope back.
This year my dreams aren’t crippled by fear.
This year ain’t easy and has its own set of challenges.
But this year I feel capable.
This year I feel free.
And when I take a closer look...
The last few years' hurts are being sat back in the laps of the inflictors.
Karma has written its own exposé.
I didn't even have to.
So here’s to this time last year and all it was meant to teach.
Writing this I realize the many lessons I learned.
I retained.
I use what I've learned to help guide me on who I want to be in this world.
How I treat people.
I share to the ones praying for a better year.
Don't stop.
Even on your lowest days.
Don't stop.
I’m so much better because of it.
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