Just another manic Monday

Do you believe…

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We choose our joys and sorrows long before we experience them… Kajlil Gibran

I was watching a tv show on amazon earlier today, I love the show. Its raw, raunchy, straight to the point and restores my faith in women. I know that sounds stupid, it’s hard to explain. I feel like we live in a world where a woman/girl/teen can’t express who they are or what they desire without being judged for being too fast, too sassy, a slut or a hoe, too easy, too something or another. But if a guy were to express those same things it would be ok.

I really don’t like having to raise two little girls in a patriarchal society. I want them to be able to say without shame or guilt that they like to pleasure themselves, because if I don’t know what makes me happy how can someone else know. I want them to be able to shave off all of their hair and still be seen as the beautiful girls they are. I want them to be able to express themselves fully and with intent and not be afraid of being called bitchy or selfish or some other degrading term. Because dammit, the last time I checked this was the year 2016. But this is beyond the point of the intent of this story, I’ll go into the issues of genders and inequality later.

So as I sat here watching this show, totally putting the things I was supposed to be doing on the back burner for yet another day. A quote came across the screen…

We choose our joys and sorrows long before we experience them… Kajlil Gibran

and I paused. I literally stopped what I was doing and hit rewind. I needed to read that quote three more times to understand the magnitude of that simple sentence. Can you imagine realizing in that short span of time that you knew these joys and sorrows and pain were going to happen. As in you choose that life… Let that sink in for a second.

I had a friend ask me a question a few months back, probably almost 6+ months ago. She looked at me and asked so nonchalantly, “Do you believe you choose your parents?” I know it wasn’t a nonchalant question, it was one that she had possibly been pondering herself. But to me in that moment, I couldn’t begin to wrap my head around that question. I questioned why she asked, I then began questioning my own existence and the parents I was born to. And I instantly said, HAYLE NAWL! There is no way that I would have chosen such a woman to be my mother, I don’t know know my father so I can’t speak on that. But really?! That simple question gave me pause, had me looking at this woman sideways and upside down. It was just too much.

The conversation eventually moved on, I can’t tell you what else we talked about. We talk about so much so I can never remember exactly when we talked about something or what we talked about. But that question kept popping up in my head. In the most interesting times or should I say in the most annoying times. While I was scolding a child over something they did or didn’t do. While I sat and contemplated calling the bio, when we discussed why our children will never know what it’s like to have Grandparents that are actually involved in their lives, when we needed a break from life to focus on us as a couple and we didn’t have anyone we could call to help us out. It was annoying, that nagging ass question hovering there teasing me. It also made me sad, to think that I would have chosen this life and these pains and sorrows forgetting the joy I have experienced too.

But one night a few months back I had a moment, an intense moment of clarity. As the fuzz cleared and I started seeing the answers and clarity I started having a panic attack. I mean a real life panic attack, like hyperventilating, uncontrollable crying all of it. I could have used a paper bag, because that’s how bad it was. I was literally falling apart as I sat there in front of my computer texting a friend. For a while I wasn’t really paying attention to the fact that I was actually texting someone, I was just writing and then writing some more. I mean I knew I was texting in the back of my head. Because the conversation started off simple. I saved the conversation, don’t ask me where I saved it. When I feel like I can safely go back over that point I will read it all over again.

Anyways, occasionally a quote, a story, a person, will have you questioning everything that you ever knew. And then and only then, is when you truly begin to live freely…







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