Lifestyle. Melanin. Me: Off the Beaten Path.
If you'd like to order that particular meal/psychotic break, attempt to clean up Chernobyl your room and simultaneously pack up your life for a move across several states. I started this week. Let's just say that my mother and sister had to repeatedly tell me to calm down. Like stop from taking a swan dive from …
Continue reading "Give Me the Panic Attack with a Side of Nervous Breakdown. And a Diet Coke."
Thanks to the African juices/genetics (thanks, Daddy and Ma), I have somewhat youthful features. When I was a teenager, I looked younger. When I was in my mid-20s, a woman at a hair salon once asked me if I was excited about Homecoming. Her shock when I explained that I was 26 years old--and not 15, …
Look, I'm going to say it: This Square Peg sheds more tears in a day than your average baby. While this troubled me in the past, primarily because I was rarely a crier, I now fully accept the soggy fact that I weep at the drop of a dime. Hardly an exaggeration--I'm sure I've watched many dimes …
In July 2005, my family lost my beloved father in death. Naturally, all things suffered because of this loss, which meant my overall desire to do anything. One of those things was writing. Significant because writing has always been my tool for dealing with personal pain; my longstanding avenue for catharsis. But I didn't want to pick …
Sometimes in life, people, strangers, pass through and offer us what we need at the right time. Whether it's a smile, a seat on the train, or offering you half of their sandwich because they caught you eyeing it on an airplane and heard your belly grumbling angrily and likely wanted to avoid some type of violence (true …
For the first official post of 2016, I wanted to highlight something I feel very strongly about. As an adolescent, as a teenager, as a young woman, I suffered from an insidious type of thievery: comparing myself to others. It was a sickness. I even, at times, compared myself to myself. As in sizing myself up and …
Let's just get into it, folks. (See other random memories here and here, if you're wondering what this random memory thing is about.) When I was a sophomore in high school, I was in a pretty interesting History class. Interesting because my teacher, Mrs. G., was probably one of the more quirkier teachers I'd had in …
This morning, a cold, unrelenting rain descends onto the atmosphere. The skies are dark, overwhelming, and sad. And I'd like to swim in a pool of French fries and cupcakes while I sob myself to a fitful sleep. Needless to say, it's obvious that I loathe days like this. I'd love to tell you that I'm someone who …
This speaks to me. When I was younger, especially in my teens and a large part of my twenties, I was desperate for someone in my life who could pull me through. Through those moments when loving myself was non-factor. When I would look in the mirror and loathe the girl looking back at me. When I …
Never mind that it's November 1. I meant to post my final entry for Blogtober yesterday, but life. Let's pretend it's yesterday. Thank you for supporting this year's bloggery effort despite the 16-day wifi-related snafu that occurred in the middle. Thank you for everyone that liked a post, followed my little blog this month, left …
Continue reading "Blogtober (Redux and Late) #31: Regrets or Nah?"
This Square Peg. 