He Made Me Do IT With A Smile

I have anger issues. I denied it before, but I must admit: I am extremely impatient. I do not like waiting. Though it is a virtue - as we all have been told - it is something that I have not yet channeled within myself. Patience. The word itself sounds so reflective and zen-like that it makes me get a headache simply thinking about it. It's on the top of my list of loaded words along with its cousin, Tolerance.

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Once upon a time, I would consider myself very self-aware. It wasn't until recent that I recognized that a breach had formed between my mind, body and soul. I was not in tune with what was going on with me externally (the forces from the outside world) and internally (the pressure I put on myself). Overwhelmed with wanting immediate change, I took extreme measures. Within a few hours, I declared myself a 2x/day gym goer, only healthy/clean eating foodie, student pursing writing goals and online classes obsessor and an avid reading money-maker. Setting, what I now understand to be, long-term goals to be accomplished in the short-term time period did more damage than anything as I was burnt out and worse off than from when I started. I felt more than defeated, and I had myself to blame. 

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Fourth of July weekend came around and I spent it with a person who I have always known to wear a smile. His dimples and flouride-free whitened teeth made me melt. I watched his chest expand and he stole the fresh air from the life giving trees that surrounded us on the nature trail. I envied his freedom. I wanted his passion for relishing in the beauty of breathing. Although I was jealous of the relationship he had with a natural environment, I was humbled by being able to witness it. 

Photo Credit: MM, Thank-you Sean :) 

My boyfriend doesn't "do" pictures, so his phone is hardly ever in view. We followed a variety of trails and I wanted to capture it all and send it to every social media app that I could get to work while in a remote place. He made it a point to never look directly at the camera. I didn't understand the importance of it, but now I do. Every still image I managed to get of him on our mini-adventure is of him with his back towards me, admiring the heights of the trees, the sturdiness in their trunks and the rhythms of the stream. He used the time to take in what he saw. I used the time to take in his experience.  

Granted, I did not record the entire trip, but a bunch of it is on camera. After spending 2 hours walking trails, reviewing footage and scratching mosquito bites, I've come to the conclusion that I am happiest when I am around people who make me happy. The familiar smile on his face relaxed me. His heart - full and loving - made happiness contagious. My recommendation: always smile.

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You're probably wondering what the first and second part have to do with each other. You know, how does patience and smiling come together to make a successful blog post. Well, from my experience, they are directly linked together. Here it is:

Everything that we do in life is done, ultimately, to achieve some kind of happiness. The disconnect that I had with myself needed to be resolved because, for me, it was so overwhelming that it stood in the way of my happiness. My decision to be happy was a choice. My original method for achieving it was incorrect because it was unhealthy, leaving me at the same place I was when I started. Smiling, laughing, and surrounding myself with a person enhanced my level of happiness, and it took a while for me to figure it out. 

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It does not take a lot for us to be happy. Cherishing moments, such as the one I had, can be the key to a happier life. Yes! I said it: truly being present - without a phone, computer, SnapChat, Pinterest, FB, Instagram and the like - can increase your happiness. I was more than taken aback when I remembered what I had always known: a smile is worth more than gold... its priceless! 

I have made it a point to smile more often and live in the present. I expect to take each day one step at a time sans camera and sans overuse of any other distractions. I would hope for everyone to find one special thing that has brought them happiness, recognize it for what it is, and love it in the moment as you will never have that same feeling again. 

Best,

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 :)

It's Too Hard To Be Thankful

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We never worry about our health until it is ours that is on the line. Have you ever noticed that our health is never our own concern until the potential for the worse is staring us in the face? We become the most grateful people in the world once our bad situation has turned around for the better, but are very eager to forget the heartfelt emotions that reminded us of what it meant to be thankful. Man is not consistent. Will we ever be?

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I'm guilty and I know it. I was recently sick and in need of care. I went to the doctor's office, received my medication, and naturally, went home crying because I thought that I was dying. Yes people, I disregarded the fact that my diagnosis was not life-threatening and still went home and cried my eyes out, while eating ice cream and watching Law & Order reruns because I just knew that the doctor was SO wrong, and my self-diagnosis, from which I (the more of a professional than my doctor) received from WebMD was more accurate. Typical, no? 

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Anyway, for over a week, I panicked like no other. This panic was not like any other, this panic involved me having nightmares of my funeral, yelling at my boyfriend because he wasn't fixing the problem (even though he was VERY instrumental in trying to figure out ways to fix the problem, in addition to the medication that I received), crying for no reason or simply because I thought it was so long since I last cried and was, therefore, overdue for another good cry, and overeating (but this is not surprising - I like food). Tests were sent out and results finally came back, and they were 100% certain that I was going to live. I hung up the phone and felt miserable. 

I do not know if it was a question of my faith that got me messed up or if it was simply my reaction to the entire situation. Shouldn't I have known that it wasn't my time to leave the Earth, even after the doctor reported that my life was never being threatened by anything that wasn't curable? Aren't I suppose to feel ashamed/guilty for knowing that I had always taken my health for granted prior to this experience? How depressing it was to know that I may even do it again! 

Welcome to PeopleSuck101! 

It has been a difficult reality to embrace. Am I actually selfish? Do I even know how to be thankful? Am I really thankful for something if I forget about what it is I was thankful for, moments/days/years later? How many times of saying, "Thank-you" is enough? What does it really mean? 

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I was starting to think that "thanks," and "thank-yous" were fillers similar to "really," "actually," "literally," "simply," "very," and the rest of the words that take up a lot of space on a first-year academic paper. I've said the word numerous times throughout my 21 years of living, but I have never said it enough times in one sitting to the point that it made me question what the hell it was that I kept throwing out of my mouth. Words that are often thrown around, such as "love," "hate," and "dream" don't seem to have much meaning in this day in age.  I'm almost convinced that I will add those to my list of fillers as well. (Sad day in the world of an English major). My understanding so far: it's extremely (filler alert!) hard to be thankful! 

Imagine yourself walking around showing appreciation all the time... EXHAUSTING, right? 

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Now, I am not saying that I know the cure for injecting purpose back into these terms. What I am saying, however, is that there may still be hope. Everything starts with a thought. These, my thoughts/reflections, are now yours. Being that thoughts turn into actions, and actions yield change, I trust that sooner or later the world can potentially (there's another filler!) have a better grip on what it means to be thankful, to love, to hate, to dream. 

Use you words wisely people. 

Let's all try to #DoBetter with being thankful for the blessings we have. 

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.

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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 :)