Growth

DaBaby just dropped. No need to say more. Listen to my man as you read this.

I graduated from college on May 4, 2019. I was so happy. Happy to be done. Happy to be accomplished. To say you finished in four years. Debt free. Black. Female. 22. With a degree. It was to be celebrated. And I did. I had one request for my graduation party: MIMOSAS. And in typical only child fashion, my mother delivered. I had my friends take shot after shot. My family consists of an older crowd, but I was still going to spit the lyrics to Yo Gotti’s “That’s What’s Up”. Not to be disrespectful, but it was my day and if I wanted to cuss, it was going to be heard. We danced, I actually strolled and led the line, it was blissful and forever will be a day I can say I was genuinely and completely happy.

A synopsis of the weeks to follow:

I am a highly susceptible person to fall into depression. I acknowledge this. I accept this and I actively take steps toward avoiding depression, such as saying affirmations, writing myself notes, prayer, going to church, therapy and working out. Being an only child, I spend most of my time with, well me. It’s very easy to go to dark places when you’re alone. Which is why if you ask me what I want out of life, it’s solely to be happy. Constant happiness is impossible, but you’d be surprised how hard happiness is to come by if you do not make it a priority. Due to this, post grad depression was a major dread.

The Monday after graduation I was on LinkedIn sending out my resume. I couldn’t be the bum at home. I had planned to go to grad school(not really, but I’m getting to that), but I couldn’t sit on my butt until August. I seriously feared slipping into depression during the gap. A huge chunk of my friends had gone back home, and since we graduated, there was no concrete date of when they came back, not even Homecoming. The harsh reality was, we possibly may never see each other again, or it could be years. It also could just be months or even days. We could actively try and remain friends, but I don’t think like that. I’m pessimistic, dark. I thought graduation was the cut off. I hugged my friend India and said “this may be it.” in my head. That isn’t realistic, but that was my mind-frame.

So there I am, sitting in the house, hours passing, me looking over my shoulder hoping depression doesn’t creep up on me. I had to get out of that house. I went on interview after interview and I landed my current big girl job. It was legit. My mom pounded “benefits” in my head to the point where I ask everyone now “how are your benefits at your job.” Like is this adult conversation? Is this casual banter? So now I have benefits and an actual salary. I guess I’m big time. But now I work under a quota, I’m expected to meet daily requirements and I’m actually monitored. It’s like an actual job. I sound slow saying that, but a legit job straight out of college was very different to say the least. It’s a lot. My advice to recent grads or soon to be grads: Don’t rush the job hunt. If you get denied or if you seem like you aren’t progressing, take that as a blessing. Go on vacation. Take a nap. Go eat a meal, flirt with a new guy. Don’t rush working. It isn’t fun. The money is cool, but you are actually working. Everything revolves around working. You can’t spontaneously go anywhere anymore. You’re too tired to go out after work. You can’t stay out late, because you have to be up early in the morning for work. You can’t shop for regular clothes like that anymore, because you need slacks for work now. You don’t go out to eat because you packed your lunch to sit at your desk for five minutes of peace while everyone is out of the office because the small talk has driven you crazy all morning. Read that paragraph very quickly. It’s meant to be read like that so you see how working drives you crazy. *Fun drinking game: Take a shot for every time I said “work” in that paragraph.

In addition to finding a big girl job, I have also grown a lot during this past summer. This past summer actually deserves a “whew chile” moment because so much transpired and transformed me in these 3 short months: Including some much needed inner growth.

My thoughts on relationships progressed, maybe, a tad:

I’m about to drop an epiphany on you. “Niggas ain’t shit” is a false statement. “Men are disappointing” is the more true statement. Whether you’ll admit it or not, you enter every single relationship with expectations. Romantic or platonic. Whether those expectations are stated verbally or not, they are present regardless. At minimum you expect to be treated with respect. That is the bare minimum. Test this theory. Any human interaction; your first thought isn’t “Oh this person is about to disrespect me, harm me etc.” You may have reservations, but you seriously do not consider being harmed by anyone when you step foot outside. We are trusting by nature of other human beings.

This is going to be argued so let me explain: I don’t believe humans trust complete strangers, but a certain level of trust is there. Otherwise we wouldn’t have any type of human reaction.

So with that being said “men are disappointing.” We have certain expectations that aren’t met. We get hurt and then we generalize. The key to peace is ditching the generalization. Misery loves company. You generalize and relationship after relationship is cursed from the start. The tides turn. Suddenly the situations go from “yeah you were done wrong” to “damn sis, it’s you.” You curse yourself. You go from expecting reasonable and attainable things to expecting the worst. Projecting negatives instead of being on the look-out for them. You can no longer decipher reality from pain.

There’s a thin line between him hurting you and YOU hurting you. Think of Keyshia Cole’s “I Should Have Cheated” if you project negatives, that young man who is also human will by human nature think “damn, I should have cheated or actually did something wrong.” Sometimes it isn’t him. The harsh reality is, it may, we hate to admit, it potentially could be you.

You aren’t alone. That statement hit me deep. This isn’t a pick me moment. As a lifetime proud member of the “Niggas ain’t shit” Club, it was hard for me to retire my membership card and let that hurt go. It’s hard to recognize wrong, accept it, and ultimately move the fuck on. Moving on is the easy part. Now you aren’t out here thinking “Love is near! All guys are great!” On the contrary, you are still reserved, but you are refined. You’re like a good bottle of wine. Better with age. You are wiser. You look at men for what they are. Toys. I’m joking. Clowns. Ok, I’m not serious. Ok, I’m like 30% serious, but you look at them as human. That is what they are: human. They’ll make mistakes. They won’t be perfect. They will fall short of your expectations and so will you for theirs. Don’t forget that. Remember that. It’ll humble you. You click with someone when you find someone worth working with. Working with them to meet your expectations and you theirs. Both tweaking expectations when necessary, because you want each other. And its human nature to be wanted. That’s the endgame: to be wanted and to want someone in return.

Men are disappointing. Remember this and your love journey will never be in vain.

Never be discouraged, every relationship, be it long or short; is necessary to guide you to the one you’re meant to be with. Don’t lose faith, keep this motto. “The next one may be the one.”

That’s growth.

Grad School entered the chat:

Grad school was never in the picture. When I thought about my career path going into college it was always: Biology degree then med school. I took all the steps to get there. When the summer before senior year came, my career path drastically changed. I couldn’t do it. I didn’t want to. For the longest I told myself the lie that I wanted to be a doctor. I wanted to be a doctor for representation. There were not enough doctors who looked like me. When I was searching for an OBGYN in Nashville, my only requirement was that the doctor be a female and that she be Black. I could not find a single one. Google hated me that week. So if you ever were to ask me why I wanted to be a doctor it would be because I was needed in the field. Though this should not be a strong enough reasoning for becoming a doctor; in my opinion. Medicine should be one’s passion, not something they see as an obligation to fill. So realizing this, instead of planning for post grad, I simply focused on making it through senior year with a 4.0. Which I accomplished. My proudest college moment ever, and much overdue. But hey, I was a STEM major.

Grad school was not in the cards. Who could afford it? I went through undergrad with a full ride. I was spoiled to the luxury of free education and I honestly, and passionately felt like education should be a right not a privilege. Everyone should be granted the opportunity to go to school for free; and break down the barriers of the poverty line. If grad school wasn’t free, then I simply wasn’t going.

An administrator at TSU told me he would provide me with a full ride. Due to his position, I did not question this offer and fully trusted him. So bet. I applied for grad school, got accepted and was chilling until August. Running from depression I accepted a job offer, however when August began to creep up on me, I called him inquiring when he was going to uphold this promise. I had registered for classes, been accepted into my program of choice, my end of the deal had been fulfilled. I had a bad gut feeling. My grandmother claimed to be psychic when I was little, therefore I have always thought that I too was psychic and I have yet to be proven wrong. All my calls: ignored. All my emails: unanswered. I was finally able to get in touch with him one day. On said call he told me to put in my two week’s notice at my job and replace said job with a job at TSU. I told my mom and she said I needed to stay my black ass at my job because he was playing with me. He wanted me to quit and take a major major MAJOR pay cut. First of all, being the scientist that I am, I did my research on the position. I reached out to the last person to hold the position and she told me the good, the bad and the ugly. Emphasis on bad and ugly. She also still had to pay a portion of her tuition. Oh no ma’am Pam. Like I said he promised me a full ride so to take a pay cut, and only get paid once a month and STILL have to pay a portion of my tuition: Oh hell no. I did debate this option heavily though. Was I a fool for not wanting to accept the offer? Was I fool for even considering this offer. This man gave me the run around all summer.

My gut feeling was right. I told yall I was psychic. I never felt comfortable with the administrator, nor did I feel like he would honor the deal. Which he did not. Why? Some b.s. reason, the point was he made me a promise he did not fulfill; and imagine if I had actually quit my job. It was one week before classes were to start. I was inches away from getting purged. I spent the entire summer trying to protect my peace and run from depression just to be in this predicament. I was down. I was low.

Even though I was firm on the fact that I wouldn’t go to grad school unless it was free, I felt drawn to this degree. I felt tested. Tested to step out on faith. God told me to get the degree. I really can’t explain it. I think God wants me to grow up. For 21 years, everyone in the family had babied me. I was the only child. I rarely was told no. Things rarely don’t go my way. These are probably the reasons I’m single. Compromise has never been a part of my vocabulary. It’s not something cute to say or admit, but I’m a brat. A huge one. Struggle is far from my story.

So God was going to humble me in year 22. At 22 I graduated. I was no longer all the titles I held in school. We joke about grads who stay in college business and “can’t let it go”, but it’s hard. I felt like a part of me was gone. That door had closed. He was going to give me a new purpose.

I got a job. He was going to make me work. He told me to stay the course and actually go to school. He wants me to learn and grow deeper in the areas of patience, responsibility, humility, maturity and dedication. So I did the big girl thing and paid for my tuition. With my money. Watching my bank account take a major hit hurt my soul. But I felt so grown up by paying that bill. It’s one of those life moments where you are indefinitely proud of yourself.

So as of today:

I work 40 hours a week. I’m taking 12 credit hours of coursework for grad school. I’m out of my house for 13 hours a day. I go to work then straight to class. I pay rent. It really is fake rent because it goes in a savings account. I pay for grad school. I have my own health insurance. I take myself on solo dates every Friday (I’ll drop yall a blog on cute Nashville date spots.) I get waxes now. I’m really grown out here. It’s different. It sucks most of the time. I think about how I took kindergarten naps for granted way too often now. But the growth is necessary. I’ve said it so many times on here; that I was searching for the girl I used to be before I lost my virginity, but honestly I’m at a point where I’m falling in love with the woman I am becoming.

Progression is always better than regression and I finally get that.