This year I grew a lot a lot and when it first began I can recall Jessica Lanyadoo the Astrologer (and so much more) saying that as a Sagittarius my growth was not guaranteed this year BUT, if I tried… Honey, did I try.
I feel like I ran to the four corners of the earth through meetings, community service, trying to compile my interest, traveling, writing, all of the things in an attempt to feed something within my consciousness. Ran myself almost raggedy, but found the dogged strength and determination to explore.
To be honest I am fully aware of the fact that I made strides this season. One of the larger markers is that I no longer feel left out, or on the fringes when I attend events around my interests.
I am no longer left feeling like someone else is filling my void in the universe.
No longer left feeling like other people have more expertise and insight into my vision for my life.
Not to say that I have nothing to learn, but I do not feel as isolated from my aspirations (if that makes sense). I don’t lean towards feeling behind the curve anymore, I feel like I’m on my way but like for real this time.
Today my friend Pier sent over a video and in the video, a woman said, “discipline your disappointment.” I needed to hear that because once I am disappointed with others and self I have a tendency to simply check out.
The root of it appears to stem from childhood issues. Speaking of, I need to leave this here.
One of the milestones of this year was seeing my father for the first time in 15+ years. An event that for so long was this looming crutch like blob in my life. Packed away but seeping out of its box every chance it was given. I carried the expectation that when I saw him I would revert back to the little girl I was never really allowed to be.
“Nah Playa”
Nah.
I have to admit I did deflect a bit through humor and bluntness, but honestly, I am way stronger than I could have ever imagined. I did not cry, nor did I feel like crying.
At times I wanted to shit a brick because well the atmosphere in that joint is off.
Systemic, septic, institutional, intergenerational, ain’t no positives really.
The experience was surreal and dreamlike, but I didn’t want to cry like I used to cry when we left him there. This time around it was sad for social justice reasons but not enough to counteract the strength I’d found to muster up the courage to go and see him.
From my day-long conversation with him, my father concluded that I swore like a sailor, was, “aggressive” and he couldn’t really comprehend the way I wear my hair or lack thereof. He was looking for that little girl I’ve been looking for too. Let’s be clear she gone. I’m grown. I’m also a woman in 2018, not the late 90’s 2000’s. No shade to those women, I’m sure they moving different now too.
He asked me, “you don’t seem to fool with too many people in the family, why me, why now?” I was honest, I responded with, “well it’s for my own healing most likely, and you know I have to say that for the first time in my life I am enjoying living my life, so if all you could give me was life, I came to say thank you.”
At that point, I was more than ready to go. I let him know that he didn’t owe me anything he didn’t have. No lottery, no two-parent household, no emotional support, nothing. I’m not charging him with any of it really. Shit truth be told I’ve been paying for it this whole time.
“I have to say that for the first time in my life I am enjoying living my life, so if all you could give me was life, I came to say thank you.”
CC says, “everything you didn’t get as a child you can have as an adult, you just have to pay for it.” I think I’m paying with the time and emotional expenditure it takes to process the bullshit and bring in the blessings.
I figured out this year through this situation that I’m not lame, incomplete, interrupted, or crazy because I grew up without my father. I just have a bit more work to do, work around being open and available for the many blessings now and to come. Not living with the expectation that others will disrupt and ultimately disappoint.
I leave 2018 knowing that I am strong enough to be Ms. Jasmine. Just the way the Universe God made me. I’m no longer disgruntled around the hand I was dealt, I am excited about what I can make it. My Grandma Mary used to say, “you may not have been able to choose the hand you were dealt, but you can choose how you play it.”
One thing I’m leaving in 2018 is recanting stories that don’t serve me. I’ve rehearsed the pain long enough. I will write through them, but vocalizing them in everyday conversations, yea she done. Putting the poverty porn to rest. Struggle ain’t cute and don’t keep looking to it as a source for strength. You can’t avoid it either, but try your damnedest to make the wavelength suit where you’re at and where you intend to be.
2019 is about disciplining the disappointment, tell that nonsense to exit stage left sis. Make a note, you’ll love you and others for it.
Well, that’s enough rambling.
Love Y'all, learning how to love me, and dedicated to the processes.
Happy New Year!