I’m a big girl now!! I’m a big girl now!!!

All people want to talk to me about are things like apartment hunts, and rent, and jobs, and marriage, and degrees and menopause. I kid on the last one… but, boy do I feel old. 

I’m a Senior at Duke University, trying to shape my future, acting like I know what I’m doing until I can effortlessly play the role I want to, or at least make it appear so. This semester is a truly formative one: I’m deciding what I want to do after graduating in May, I’m evaluating the last 22 years of my life… well the last 12 at least. We can give the first ten a pass, I just played with Barbies and learned to spell big words. 

I’ve never really ‘felt grown’ though. Never believed in acting much older than my age, cos I’ve always felt like there was much more time for that. For the first time in my life now though, I feel grown. So many things make me feel this way; the things I think about first of all. Lately, I’ve thought a lot about my life’s purpose… my ultimate goal. And I’ve decided that it will always be to make those around me happy. I realized that in the long term, that’s all that really matters. Do that, and the rest will follow. There’s a difference between this and being a ‘people pleaser.’ This is striving to be more selfless and putting the needs of others over my wants. I know for sure that if my mother bought a new car each time she felt like it, I probably would lack several of the things I grew up with— which she perceived as my needs. I want to be selfless and provide for those around me before myself. This is going to prove very challenging, but that’s because it’s supposed to be. Selfishness is the surest mark of childishness and immaturity. Children just take and take and never give. The point at which you realize that others in fact do exist outside of yourself, is the point where coming of age really begins. The answer to ‘does someone need my help?’ will always be yes anyway; the key is being more conscious. More conscious of the people around us, and always being available to help. More conscious of the people around us that have made sacrifices for us, have never wanted us to feel pain; the people who have gone without so we could have.

I’ve also become more sensitive and decided to embrace it instead of shun it. I’m not ashamed to cry— childish me would boast about going two years without crying, now I know there’s nothing wrong with tears. I get happy and I cry, I count my blessings and I can cry. I don’t cry about everything, but I’m more vulnerable and I’m okay with that.

I care more about the long-term. I keep trying to do what I need to do, not necessarily what I want. I’m learning self-control and discipline. Deciding to take care of myself more, care about my health and not only care about me, care about others and take care of them too. I’m trying not to procrastinate, I’m trying to be kinder, pay more compliments and just be better. 

Soo.. what does it really mean to ‘grow up’? Doesn’t just mean get bigger and wear a bigger size shoe. Don’t sweat the small stuff, see the bigger picture. Question less, appreciate more. Accept the world, don’t expect fairness, take losses and disappointment in your stride; learn that they are inevitable. Take responsibility for your actions, don’t look back, only forward. Create principles for yourself and hold yourself accountable for sticking to them. BE GRATEFUL! Accept yourself and like yourself but don’t be afraid of self-improvement. Forgive people, and don’t be too hard on yourself either. Tell the people you love that you do. KEEP YOUR WORD. Live within your means, save more money. TELL THE TRUTH. 

This post is all over the place, and that’s because I didn’t plan it. It’s clearly not an exhaustive list, but it’s what was on my heart… Hope you’re all enjoying your weekend <3

*steps off soapbox*

Disclaimer: The following post is not written to suit ears that are soothed by political correctness and may therefore offend you. But since when is this blog the place to come if you ever need to read anything tame and politically correct?

Great, now that we’ve covered that… I think I should apologize for my lack of dedication to the blog over the last couple of weeks. I went from posting fairly regularly, to hardly posting at all. That said, I anticipate no change in this behavior unfortunately, since ‘that-which-shall-not-be-named’ starts again next Monday, and I will once again be plagued with assignment and reading after project after test. Another thing I’d like to blame my non-postingness on is the fact that I actually don’t have omnipresent wi-fi and a laptop tied to my arm at all times and in all places, for instance let’s sayy oh maybe I don’t know, the shower? A lot of my best stuff comes to me when I’m neck deep in soap suds and as you may be able to imagine, this is not always the best. I try to recreate the posts once I’m back in front of my laptop, but I’m always scared the recreation will not have even close to the same amount of awesome juice that its shower-epiphany cousin had.

Aha.. now the actual post.

If I were a silly little 17 year-old Caucasian female, this Summer would have definitely turned me anorexic.

I come from a country called Ghana, and we are very unique. We specialize in things like stating the obvious, all the time. Any attempt at sarcasm or underhand wit is most likely lost on the average Ghanaian. That being said, one of the things a Ghanaian must comment on whenever he/she meets you after a period greater than approx. 3 months is whether or not you have gained or lost any weight. Please note that it is not possible that you might just have stayed the same size,some change must have occurred. If it appears that you look the same, the comment will take the form of a question instead. Eg. “Ei, have you lost weight? Or you have gained rather?”

…Okay so, if it doesn’t seem apparent that there’s been any loss of weight,neither does it seem as though there’s been weight gain, is it possible to perhaps entertain the idea that the individual in question is maybe the same size? Just maybe?

Man, I love my people all day, errrrday… not. I actually hate Ghanaians sometimes, and I give myself permission to do so, because of my obvious “privilege of inclusivity”, i.e I can hate on Ghanaians, but you try it, you outsider, and see if I don’t fully disrespect you and everything you stand for with my eyes, tongue and mind (no hands- I don’t fight; I’m a lady sometimes).

All I’m trying to say is, it’s my body and this usually means I know it better than you. If I gain or lose weight, please believe I’ll be aware. I live with me, and I lug my own weight everywhere round the clock, so yes, I know if I’ve changed in any way. I know what clothes fit and which jeans are tighter, and if I gain or lose weight I know exactly how it happened. I could probably draw up a chart of various foods and the timeline in which I ate them and when exactly I neglected exercise and account for every pound. This is why it is unnecessary and off-putting when people feel the need to provide ‘new’ information and ‘let one know’ that they look different. Thanks for your candor and the sharpness with which you noted this? I don’t know. I’ll work on that? Our friendship has now soared to greater heights because I now know you’ll be honest with me no matter what? I’m not sure which of these is considered an okay response to this stuff.. especially if we’re not even friends, which is the case more often than not.

That said, this ish is scary. When I see my aunts- light skin, thick in the waist, with their tig ol’ bitties and ass and hips for daaays, I know I damn well have no business ingesting anything 30 calories and over, if the future is to be bright. 

Before I begin or rather let you into what I have written, I must confess that I had completed this article months ago but was a bit apprehensive in publishing it. I didn’t want to come across as being judgmental and if after reading this you feel judged or put down as a woman, please excuse my unskilled delivery, for that is not my intent. And if you feel that I have crossed the line as man sharing these with you, do not hesitate to express your disdain for my impetus. Having said that, I feel qualified to write this as a man because I stand as an unbiased observer and also one who has had the opportunity to take advantage of these mistakes. But I must confess, we as men have been @$$#*%*$ . Where we should have given, we took; where we should have loved, we lusted and where we should have preserved, we devoured. As a Man, I must call myself to higher standards. Before I touch you, I must respect you like my mother, protect you like my sister and look out for your best interest like my baby – after all, that’s what I call you when I want you! We’ve failed to realize that the significance of our masculinity does not lie in how many girls we can dis-virgin but rather the honor we can bestow upon one. We fail to understand that the purpose of our strength and dominance is to defend and protect not to attack and destroy. But the first mistake was not yours. You were born into a world that didn’t even give you the chance - the chance to be who you really are without any pressure or expectation. From day one you were unconsciously groomed from childhood to be an acceptable accessory to a man’s life. You were constantly made conscious of a false milestone that suggested your value was based upon a man finding you worthy to be his, instead of being made aware of who you are by virtue of your own unique existence. Your worth as a woman was reduced to two things; being a wife and your ability to bear a child – and in some cultures, you had to bear the right type of child. And if per chance you failed in one of these areas, you were nobody, no one – you were nothing. Unfortunately, along the way, you may have made some mistakes in trying to fulfill this false notion of who you are supposed to be. Bad relationship after bad relationship continually emphasized the lie that you were nothing without a man. Not only do you sit there as one with mental wounds from childhood, but also with hurts and wounds that are self inflicted as you sincerely tried to fulfill the so called destiny of the woman – being someone’s woman. As I share this with you, I do not come as one who claims to understand your plight, but rather I stand as one who has heard you. From my mother to my aunts to my cousins and my friends, I have heard you and will continue to listen whenever you speak. That being said, I do not believe we are responsible for the things that are done or said to us, but I do know that we are responsible for allowing those things continue in us. It’s in this light that I share with you the five common mistakes women make in relationships. Your Personal Standards! Don’t leave home without them!

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So why do some people add THOUGH to the end of every sentence!? It’s really bothering me. That is incorrect English. I mean, “though” is used at the beginning of a sentence when you are about to state a condition that is exists, but however does not prevent another from happening. As in: “Though she did not have an English Phd, she could understand basic grammar rules.” You see? Or maybe at the end, when you want to express that despite the fact that something occurred, another did not. (By the way, the one which didn’t occur should usually depend on the first condition, however in your particular case, it didn’t) See below: “She told me what she thought; I didn’t understand it though.” OH.. or in another situation similar to either of these! So when you come on my profile and say: “O Jessica what’s good. I miss you though. How you been though?” I find it hard to understand… What is the “though” there doing??? Sooo redundant! Let’s speak well people!

Sooo apparently I’ve become some sort of deviation from the norm within my circle of friends. And don’t get me wrong when I say different please. I don’t mean the sort of different that we crave for and are content with representing in any circle of friends—the kind that gives us our edge and individuality. Also, don’t think I mean I’m different as in I may be going mad or I’m occasionally schizophrenic or ‘special’. Um no. I’m simply referring to our college experiences and what we’ve made of them. No, scratch that, in fact. Not college. EVERYONE. Seriously, let’s think as low as middle school. I’m beating around the bush and it’s not even like I want to create suspense or anything because then this would be a lame attempt at doing that… but it’s just that honestly I am not even sure how to put it. EVERYBODY I KNOW IS HAVING SOOOOOOO MUCH SEX Like wooooaah. We’ve all become soo fascinated by our penises and vaginas and now they need to be in something (or have something in them at ALL times). Dear God, please believe me when I say I’m not even trying to front like I’m too good for that, or act like I’m holier-than-thou. I mean, I’m not. But everyone around me actually just verbalizes, c’mon everyone needs lovin’! You can’t live without it.. You need to do something every once in a while (which usually translates into every weekend…) Erm. OK. So. I agree. Kinda. So how wrong is that I feel absolutely no need to? Am I becoming asexual?? LOL. Now that is a laugh. I love men. Sorry. I might know my body very well but I know exactly when a tall, dark, handsome MALE is needed to take over. So.. no. Still very much a sexual being, BUT. This issue. I’m just overly tickled by the idea of some random person touching me, exchanging saliva with me, rubbing on me, putting various parts of his body on/around/in/beside sections of my body that constitute my private squares. And then of course, the whole insertion of his penis into my vagina thing. And the humping that follows. Sooo. yah. Ok. It’s not sex or the idea of it that I’m hating on. I’m actually doing the opposite. I’m glorifying it. I’m saying it should be the amazing thing we all want it to be. It should be special enough such that the conditions it takes to get it aren’t just the right amount of alcohol, sufficient energy, limited lighting (variable) and adequate space. Yea..special. You know, like the same reason why not everyone is President. And not everyone who buys a lottery ticket wins. And millions of sperm rush towards the egg but only one gets the egg an… yea. I think by now you should understand the parallels I’m drawing. And you should know why it’s this way. Yes—-> Because THEN IT WOULDN’T BE SPECIAL!! See.. I’m shocking myself with these “old ladylike” perspectives.. because I doubt anyone who knows me would EVER call me a prude. Or maybe now they will. Apparently I’m not a flirt. Comes as a shock to me because even though my last relationship was what you would call long-term— 4 years, anytime I’ve been single I haven’t always, how do I put it..kept my legs as tightly crossed as my mother would’ve preferred. But when it comes to the proverbial “failure at life” deck of cards, I still have the “whore” & “slut” cards in the deck, rather far away.

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