How to: Forgive (Yourself) & Forget (Them)

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Once upon a time there was girl who wanted to do serious damage to her older cousin's basketball because she was hurt by a not so long ago threat he posed to cut off all of the ribbon from the bars of her bicycle... and followed through. Devastated by how her two-wheeler looked with tape on the ends, she planned to end his life. Yes, she would do something that no other younger relative has ever thought to do before. She would commit - - - toy homicide. She kept the image of her darling ribbon plastered to the bars in her mind. She was distraught by how they remained lifeless, tucked behind the sticky contraption was imagined would make it "okay." She recalls every effort she made to save up Christmas money, Birthday money, allowance and lunch money she saved from Mixed-Meatball Monday's. Her mind rested on the fact that the action was done out of fun; he did not care. She knew, however, that the moment she sat on the back porch with a kitchen knife in hand that he would learn to care about her and the value of her treasured property.

- - - 

Whether or not it is justified, everyone has been in the position where they have done something to hurt someone else. If you're saying that you haven't, take this moment to think back to when you hit someone on the arm because they hit you first.

 Guilty yet?

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Great!

Now that we've established that every person is guilty of having wronged someone, with the intent of hurting them, let's talk about getting over the fact that you felt terrible about it afterwards. Let's reflect on that gut feeling that says, "You're an evil person." Well, remember the old saying, "Time heals?" In most cases, it does. In cases where it does not, let me offer you some comfort. 

- - - 

I am not the same young girl that I was years ago. Will I put a knife in a child's basketball now, as an adult? Of course not. Would I still put a knife in my older cousin's signed- autographed Harlem Globetrotter's basketball? Hmmm... probably not. At this point in my life, I think I'd be most likely to sell it (jk, I don't touch his stuff). Still, the point remains that I would not do the same things that I once did as a child, because I am no longer a child. Should I still feel badly about what I did, years later? Well, that depends on me. I imagine that I would be satisfied if he apologized for hurting my feelings, breaking my ribbon and saying it was done just for fun. None of that happened... at least, not the way that I wanted it to. 

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I felt terrible about it the next day, until he told me he probably deserved it after what he did to my bike, and didn't really care too much about the basketball... because his wasn't at our grandmother's house - the same place I live. He told me that his ball was at his house, meaning that my ball... well, was now gone. I like to think that I learned at a young age that karma comes around quite quickly. So... do I regret what I did? Of course... I did, but now, I don't.  

Why do I not live with it? - totally different question. Humans are emotional beings. We attribute factors like love, truth, appreciation, satisfaction, and a whole host of intangibles to our actions (also intangible). Simply put, I like to think that the way we feel is simply a reflection of how our minds are ordered and the way we choose to operate them. If I am constantly thinking about wishing to not having done what it is that I did wrong, I will never learn from my wrong actions - my wrong thinking. If I am consistently trying to distract myself from hurting that person again, I am thinking about the idea of hurting that person, which (I think) increases my chances of actually doing it. 

The answer of how not to live with regret is: 

FORGIVE (YOURSELF) and FORGET (THEM).

I never abided by this rule, as I was always a strong believer that God helps those who help themselves. My terrible logic of God assisting me to put a hole in a basketball that I thought belonged to someone else is remarkably idiotic. But since then, I've forgiven myself and forgotten what he did to bring harm to my emotions. This mantra is for those who truly want to live happily, without baggage of any sort. Trust me, no one is angry about what you did ump-teen years ago but you. 

- - -

Mom: shouting down the hallway, "Don't use it all, B." 

B: shouting back, "I won't." 

Mom closes the apartment door and enters MM. MM in tears. 

Mom: "What's wrong, Booboo?"

(L to R) MM, B

MM: "B took off all the ribbons from my new bike."

Mom: "Did he-"

MM: "I popped his ball."

Mom: "Why would you?-"

MM: "I'm sorry."

Mom: "Tell him." 

MM: "Where is he?" 

Mom: "Look out the window."

MM motions to the window where she can have an immediate view of the driveway. She can see B (her older cousin) carefully applying tape to the torn ribbons from her bicycle. Still, she is saddened by the weight of the deflated basketball in her hand. 

Without moving her eyes away from her cousin, MM beckons her mother

MM: "Do you have a pump?" 

- - -

Live happy,

MM :)

Character: The Black White Girl

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I am more entertained by the lifespan of this label than I am by its application to me. Living in Newark wasn't the best, but I made it through, and out. That's right! At age 14, I was in boarding school. Contrary to public belief, I was not sent away to a military camp, nor was I being punished because I was uncontrollable. I went, voluntarily, because I had the potential to be even greater than what my elementary school teachers already saw inside of me. I loved reading and writing, singing and acting, dancing and jumping rope. Going to high school, that all stayed the same, but coming home on vacations - to Newark - was different, as my friends and family, on numerous occasions, could no longer recognize me to be the same person who left. I was the Oreo; a white girl in a black girl's body.

My tone of voice sounded different because it had changed. According to the a cappella group that would not accept me my first year due to my raspy-soloist voice, I needed to blend in with the rest of the girls. Joining a choir of predominately white students did the trick! I was a black-pure vocals kind of girl. Any chance of me being like Jazmine Sullivan was suddenly out of the question. My enunciation was noticeable amongst people at home and I could tell that it made some uneasy. You could hear it in my words that I wanted all consonants and vowels to be heard. And thats hur-d, with a capital D. I played sports unknown to many in my neighborhood. Squash was the one that caught them all out of left field. No one knew Squash to be a thing other than a vegetable that was never on sale at the local Shoprite unless it was during the Thanksgiving holiday can-can sale. I had added so many changes to the scaffolding that I originally left home with to the point where no one seemed to understand me.

Clearly, I am not Caucasian. I never have been, nor will I ever be. I missed that opportunity at birth when the DNA from my parents came out 100% A-American. The thing is also that I do not have the desire to be anything other than what I am. But, to the girl who is confused about who she is.. yes: the black white girl....

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Realize that you come from a line of beautiful people who would be highly offended if you had any desire to be anything else. Yes, I'm talking about the girl who is clearly not mixed, but uses gel at any chance she can get to twirl a curl that she got from doing a two-strand twist and calls it natural. I'm talking about the girl who praises Starbucks coffee when deep down, she's a Mcdonald's 99 cent coffee kind of girl. I'm talking about the one who says "like" 25 million times in a sentence, knowing damn well that it doesn't take that long to get one thought together. I'm talking about the girl who has a deep accent from the Caribbean and says that it is only attributed to her parents frequent 'visits' to the place, and not because that is where she is from. I'm talking about the girl who wears labels to defend the theory of her whiteness to impress others rather than the OldNavy bargains her parent's saved up for. The girl who feels entitled. The girl who hides her curves, and only socializes with one race. The girl who is so deep into her own lies that she actually believes she's pulling it off. FYI, this is not me. To the girl who is, please wake up and know that at the end of the day, everyone else can see the difference.

Best,
MM :)

Character: The Healthy Couch Potato

I am not a health professional. I am not certified as an assistant, associate nor an advanced note-taker for any health professional. I am, however, a person who has chosen to live a healthy lifestyle, an avid reader of health articles, and a follower of many health Instagram accounts. With a resume like this, I think it's okay for me to go on the following rant.

For those of you who believe that 'healthy' is a word to be tossed around, I would like to be the

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first officially non-offical expert to tell you that it should not be. It is a word that many people take lightly. I've heard it roll off the tongue of a woman who praised her accomplishment of renewing her gym membership in January (along with the rest of the world... every year). She is also the same woman I have yet to see in the gym since the 3rd of that month. I've watched it ooze from the mouth that was being shared with the mushed beef and cheese that was being chewed from a man who said he would start being healthy the following day, and I'm pretty sure that never happened. I've listened to the overly skinny girl who claimed a healthy lifestyle was her forte, yet was certain of her vomiting spree that she thought was kept behind closed doors. I've been around it all. In my day, I may have used it loosely, too. But now, I wouldn't dare!

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So, to my dear person who wishes to see changes in themselves without doing the hard work; to the individual who desires a tight body but refuses to change their diet; the too cheap person who wants to claim #TeamOrganic, #TeamFit, #TeamUpInTheGymJustWorkin'OnMyFitness, #TeamYouWasn'tWithMeWhileIWasShootin'InTheGym, #Team2pack, #Team4pack, #Team6pack, #HardWork, #HardBody, #MyBodysBetterThanYourBody,
#ILoveMySpirulinaMan (this is a shout-out! xoxo), #NothingWithoutMyWaterGallon (ok, I'll stop, xoxo), but are not motivated, determined, or fired up enough about making it happen, I suggest you think about if you really want to rep #TeamMickeyD's, #TeamDiabetes, #Team2Heavy, #TeamHeartAttack, and #TeamProcrastination.

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Now, are many people fine the way they are? Yes! Is this fine? Well, duh. But this one is for the people who talk but don't walk, who claim to be things they are not... fakes. All I'm saying is, if you're about that life, then be about it. It doesn't go both ways.


** Yeah. This thing right here - >> (see image), is a BIG no-no. It doesn't work that way. Sorry (not-sorry).


Remember, you owe it to yourself to be a better you.

Best,
MM :)

Trust Your Gut

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From a young age (nowadays), females are being brainwashed with images of what it means to be an attractive person. While the personality, intelligence, and lifelong aspirations are pushed on the back burner, appearance seems to be the only thing that matters. While I am apart of this generation that emphasizes the importance of keeping up with the Jones' (anyone labeled as a model, mentioned in the media, celebrities, etc.),  I have come to realize that this is not all that matters. Okay... well, I've known this for a while. My reasons for writing this blog post is due to my recent interest in physical beauty resurfacing.

I was teased as a middle-schooler because I was pretty, but my body wasn't built like a black girls.  (Sadly, it began then). I didn't care until it became the trend in high school as well. You needed an athletic build to get attention. (Let's not act as if wanting attention was bad). High school flew by and college came. Somewhere between those two milestones, make-up became the biggest craze. Naturally, I wanted that too. I had never been so critical of myself. When I look back on it, it's a complete turn off. I wore more make-up to my high school graduation than ever before... but I liked it. I was complimented on it. I couldn't see what they saw, but I liked how it felt, and that's all that mattered... I should've did a bit more reflection back then because it must have been a reason I never ordered graduation photos.

Present day and I have not worn foundation, concealer, eye liner, powder, blush, eye shadow, or lip gloss in about 3 months. I've decided my natural face is all that's necessary and here's why:

I looked online and found a ton of imagine of beautiful women who are considered role models for today's females. From models, actresses, music artists, to CEO's and the like; all of them have outstanding profiles and inspiring stories. The media's way of bashing them, however, is by posting photos of women without make-up, fresh cuts/weaves, and open toed sandals with no nail polish. I mean, everyone has their off days, so why are we in total shock if they have them too? Why must a woman be deemed unattractive if she wears the make-up she was born with? What is the value of an hour-glass figure in comparison to one that is built like a pear, apple, orange, or mango (whatever that looks like) - You get my point, right? Just look at the chart.

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If not, here it is: I do not want to promote the overuse of make-up or physical appearance. The keyword: OVERUSE. Too much of anything can hurt you. Does this mean I will never wear make-up again? Of course not. Though I have not used them in a while, I love my Sue Devitt and Juice Beauty lines (JB is organic, by the way- GREAT for skin). I simply will not promote the daily use of it. Will I never workout again? This too is rhetorical. But for those who wish to receive an answer - No. While I am guilty for overdoing the use of the gym, I have decided to remember that 'more gym' does not mean 'better health.' Overexercising can be detrimental to one's health, especially women (so I've learned). I cannot say if I abused the gym for purposes of changing my figure, releasing stress, or maintaining good health. But I can say that I am very aware of the difference. And I choose to keep my gut, thank-you very much.

- - -

As far as my advice is concerned, I would hope that all of the female readers can appreciate my opinions and understand that this is not throwing shade to the work-out-aholics, or face-paint-beauties. If you feel that the way you portray yourself is the epitome of beauty, then go on boo-boo, do you! But for the ladies who are striving to be what you are not, I advise you to take the time to think about what it is that makes you happy about yourself. Of course, the idea of yourself does not change overnight. In due time, it will. Just make sure you are relishing in the true beauty that you have for now. To the male readers who have managed to stay interested in reading this post, and have made it this far, remind the ladies in your life of how much you admire their beauty, INSIDE and out. It is very often that a woman does a great deal of changing herself for her male counterpart.

I do not want to give off the idea that there are some woman who fear being seen without makeup. Here are two that I admire.

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Thanks for reading,
MM :)

The Conjuring (2013)

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 I have always been one for encouraging spontaneity. An unplanned movie date with my mother and friend turned into one of the best surprises that I have had in a while. Nothing against the people (I love you both), but the excitement came more from the movie of choice - The Conjuring. 

 It was a tale of good vs. evil. The plot evolves as it is revealed to the audience that one family has a problem (the Perrons) which can only be alleviated by means of the other family (the Warrens). The issue: particular persons, who are characterized as being a part of the supernatural world, have attached themselves to physical objects and other living people, in order to continue to perform the very evil acts that had taken place in the home years ago. In an effort to restore things to normal, an exorcism is performed on those who have been abducted by the evil spirits. To say whether the exorcism is a complete success would be unfair to those who have yet to watch the film. I do not think that anyone would mind, however, a slight glimpse into the movie screen with this before-credit roll quote:

"Diabolical  forces are formidable. These forces  are eternal, and they exist today. In a world that scoffs at ghosts and laughs at the unusual, the Warrens deliver a contrary message. That message is this: The fairy tale is true. The devil exists. God exists. And for us, as people, our very destiny hinges upon which one we elect to follow." Ed Warren

Image Credit: Rolling Stone

 This intrigued me. Not only was it an unexpected end to a terrifying movie, but it forced the audience to freeze, grab their last kernel, and reflect. Having just participated in watching this movie, I was taken aback by how subtle, yet powerful, the presence of this one quote had on me. The message was nothing but an intrusion on my thoughts, and strong enough for me to consider it as an entry for my blog. There is no mistaking, however,  that this was the director's intent; the desire to merge fantasy film with reality. I know the actual happenings in the movie frightened me a bit, but the final moments in which I processed this fact is what I consider most concerning. 

 Knowing that the circumstances present in the film actually happened, and observing the intense real-life terror that was experienced for this family, is the shocking experience that all movie-goers will receive. But the shock of knowing that your life is connected to their experience is the real thriller. You just have you see it.

Enjoy! 

MM :) 

Communication Is Key

Journeying to England has been a pleasure! There is a great history in Bath that has for a long time been unknown to me. My aspirations as a writer have encouraged my curiosity. Jane Austen and her stories fill my eyes - no longer attached to the pages - and paint the film of a lifestyle worthy of being acknowledged. I wonder if I was born in to the wrong times... Literature and writing courses have taken a great deal of my attention away from those I love, whom I left, overseas. Without being too distant from my immersion, and forgetting the home from which I came, I have come to know communication to be the key. In honor of JA, I have written letters to those who have helped me.

  

#3 - Cell Phone

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Honest Phone,

You have made me pay a cost so high, I cannot bear to manage the sight of your absence. Even the slightest idea of our distance brings trauma - a paranoia unexplained. Unfathomable to feel the layers of fabric that lies within the basket to be my pocket, and not feel your rough and sturdy build sitting snuggily in between. Impossible for me to be absentminded in the positioning of your stand. Much terror you bring. Who knew what responsibilities could weigh the psyche, being such a small thing! I am astonished, still, at the price that I have to pay, but you will be put to use, as I find the love of those connected worth it. 

Modestly,

MM

#2 - Skype

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Dearest Skype,

What a wonderful investment, and marvelous addition you have been to the technological world! The joys I experience from you in mid afternoon and in the later evenings. Friendly encounters keep me content. Though your own specific kind of Wifi is more likely the preference of which you are fond, I will continue to work through the dropped calls, and frequent interjections of surveying matters. You keep me smiling, granting me the possibility to see those far away feel, right here, at home. 

Contentedly,

MM

#1- Email

Image Credit: Lee Jackson

 
Sweetest Email,

Conveniently placed at the tips of my fingers. Press a button. Another. Tempting to not stop as it is. With much to say and an indefinite amount of space. You limit me none, and want only time in return. An affair with the letters, black key and screen. Knowledgeable of all I do not say. You know me all to well by now. Letters of intimacy and notes of joy transport to the other end in an instant. How could I find fault in such immediacy!  Congratulations on your accomplishment of being my number one of choice. 

Happily, 

MM