Skip to main content

Witness Protection


I have this crazy obsession with strength. Physical. Mental. Emotional. And when I say obsession I mean, addiction. This true kind. The kind that frowns upon any form of weakness. Maybe it’s because as a child I found myself in many helpless situations. And I won’t go into detail but I have a story that is typical. The story of a girl raised by a single “sometimes-working-a-double-to-feed-me” mom and somewhat by a fairytale stepdad and absent birth father. People coming in and out of my life and in and out of my house. There wasn’t a lot of protection surrounding me. Anyway…that’s why as an adult, strength has become my main focus.

Physical.

I’ll lift anything on my own. If I see anyone carrying anything and it seems that they are struggling I will take it. I'll hold doors for the person in from of me with 2 bags while I carry 5 bags. I never ever ask for help. The few times that I have had to move, I never asked for help. That was dumb. I was sore every single time. But I have to be strong. I have to do it on my own. I have to lift it all on my own. I have to carry and shoulder the weight. The problem is, my need to display my physical strength shuts people out.

Mental.

If there is a question asked and  I could possibly be wrong, I won’t answer. I read as much as I can. I learn as much as I can. I ask all questions. I’ve heard that I ask too many. That could be true. But I want to know everything. Not in hopes to be the smartest. But mental strength is personal to me. I want and need to know. The problem is, even if I know, I'm never sure so I shrink to the background.

Emotional.

Now this one…I cannot seem to master. Why is that? Possibly because my obsession and addiction to strength takes me on an emotional ride that never ends. It’s not fair to put myself through so much strain to be strong. What I’ve figured out is, my obsession with strength renders me weak. I resist any road that leads to being weak when in realityweakness is what has me captive.

This realization has me on a search. But, am I on this search because I am trying to find strength or extract weakness? I’m back on the rollercoaster and it’s driving me crazy. I’m begging the attendant for an emergency stop. “LET ME OFF! I WANT OFF!” I want to be obsessed with living, not training myself to be strong so that I can redeem what I lost during my childhood. They all forgot to protect me…but thats not on me to fix.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Dr. JK...The Principal We Need

"A boss has the title, a Leader has the people." Simon Sinek My career as a teacher has been a challenging one, and not because of my colleagues, my students, or their parents. Many know that it took a while to pass the Math Praxis. I never gave in; partly because of my will to succeed, but mostly due to the encouragement of my leader, Dr. Carolyn Jackson-King. The woman that hired me and then fought for me to stay.  My second day of teaching 4th grade at Orr Elementary, I walked into her office, and told her I needed to resign. It was a truth joke. I laughed and I cried. I was NOT READY. I had started my certification program, I was studying for the praxis, and I was teaching one of the most notorious groups of students to ever grace the walls of that building. While that group made me who I am as a teacher, my principal gave me every tool I needed to even come close to the educator they deserved. Over the years, I believe that I have grown as a teacher. It is clear...

Love or Career?

“I met this boy when I was six years old and what I loved most he had so much soul…” So, I know Common was talking about Hip Hop, but this is my real life! I met… John (we’ll call him John) at… (John Elementary) when I was six. He was everything to me. He had pcurly hair and a beautiful smile. His skin was a soft caramel color and he played basketball. How could I not love him? I mean, I knew in that moment that we were going to be together forever. I told all my friends that he was mine. Knowing my mom was not having it, I still pretended. But I was a geek. I mean, like glasses, buck teeth, awkward dressing, horrible hair, and a weird shape. He didn’t love me back then. Well…apparently, awkward girls grow up to be pretty girls . With locs down my back, a crooked smile and full lips, and still rocking glasses, I ran into that boy…now man…and he all but chased me through the church. I have never felt more pursued in my entire adult life. It just so happens that the moment...

Right in the Middle

“Sometimes you can’t get warm until you admit that you’re cold in the first place.” Sarah Jakes They say the first step is admitting you have a problem. They never disclose the fact that you will take that first step many times in your life. I’m only 31 and square one is, well, a familiar pace. Now, this is not going to be one of those posts recounting years of pain. This is actually more about unexpected triumphs. You see, after 31 years in the game, I “admitted that I was cold.” These days, I’m pretty warm inside.  I recently spoke with a friend of mine from college. There was a point in my life when she was my person. I told her every secret and I laid all of my brokenness out for her to see. It was terrifying. I was broken in so many places and pieces that I had no clue where to begin to heal. At some point, I started at square one. My childhood. Beautiful and painful. I’m sure in a previous blog I’ve exposed all of that, so I won’t do it here. Just know, in my jo...