My seven cycle

Friday, June 12, 2009

So I've always known, but come to appreciate even more today, that my life works out in these seven year cycles. Most understand seven is a divine number. But seven is also my number. I recognized it from the time I was six and wanted to be seven badly and decided it was my number forever. Numerologically, it is also my number. I feel this simply represents my direct cosmic connection to the ethers, various dimensions, ancestral spirits and of course, source energy. As a human being, it has manifested itself in the way my life has played out. Seven years after I lost my virginity, I got married (yes I was a baby). Seven years from when I initially began, I obtained my bachelor's. I overindulged in herbal remedies, trying to soothe my depression, for seven years before I was forced to quit. I also suffered depression for seven years. This year, I finally feel I am the woman I aimed to become once I was able to decide exactly what it is that is me. I defined all that in 2002. Today is 2009, seven years. It was a work in progress, an will continue to evolve, but I can say I have reached my initial vision.

So, in 2002, I decided I wanted to be happy in my skin. I no longer wanted other people's perceptions, ideas and socialization to affect how I carried myself. Because before that point I did. I had a friend, a negative little girl, who was the official naysayer to whatever I expressed interest in. When I would attempt to wear my hair out in an afro, people would say stuff like, "who she think she is? Erykah Badu wannabe." I'd go and tie my hair down. Oh, how could I forget? My last perm was in 2002. Seven years ago and now I have made this final dedication to loc'ing my hair without taking it down or cutting it for at least 6 years. Maybe I'll switch it to seven just in case. So in 2002, I met some great people who were all at various stages of fighting to be themselves. Everyone was nappy. I decided I no longer desired to have the latest fashion just because its what everyone else was wearing (it never felt right on me). I began to speak openly about what I believed and my perceptions on various ideas in the classroom even if it went completely against the grain of what everyone else was saying. I spoke firmly but would always end my statements with, "I don't even know if I'm making any sense," as a way provide a disclaimer, or apologize for what I said. But people began to smile, the "normal" people, black kids and professors with the latest styles, the cool kids, the greek people, girls with weave wraps. The moment I felt I was becoming new was the day in class when we discussed the idea of black women having to make a choice between careers and having a family. While most of the class said there was no choice, I argued that even if you get married, have kids AND a career, something would suffer. You can either be a super mom and be mediocre in your job or be a ball buster, pulling in loot and respect, but having to rely on sitters, teachers and television to raise your child. I have since re-evaluated my position, but that day, in 2002, when I made my five minute long comment, no one said a word afterwards. I felt as I must have said the dumbest thing. Then my professor leaned back in his chair with his hands behind his head and asked, "class?" They broke out in applause. I still get red faced thinking of it. But at that moment, I began to understand I had very different ideas and it only served for the greater of all to be sure they were heard. Today, seven years later, I am taking steps to ensure I just don't say whatever whenever. Rather, I want to implement what I know will make a difference. I started my first blog back in 2002 and since that time I've been told several times over I should write a book. I always figured I would, but I also figured who would want to read it if it's not about sex? You see, I would only want to write with a black audience in mind. Because that is what makes the most sense to me. That is who I am and who I aim to help. I don't know what it is that I will write on, but it will be something. I just am now pulling it together. I just now have the conviction that I can accomplish something like a book. Previously I thought it was procrastination and laziness that would hold me back. But once I determined it was depression that tied my hands and mind down, and after being able to pinpoint the source of that depression, I feel as I have emerged the woman I always wanted to be.

I had more to say, but something just threw me terribly off.

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Wow this is so divine your post...I took my locs apart after 7 years...there was just this whisper that said it was time to let them go...I told no one..I just quietly started in the back and worked my way up..until 14 days later I revealed a gigantic fro,lol

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