Skip to main content

Late Bloomer: A Memo On Love

I've always been a late bloomer when it comes to love. I didn't date much in high school. I didn't go to prom. I didn't date in college because "they" told me to stay focused on my studies and to "leave the boys alone." I moved to NYC in 2011 and tried my hand at it--I didn't even know what to expect. I didn't introduce a guy to my parents until I was 27. The introduction was risky (for me) and scary and exciting all in one.

Today, my tulips bloomed--the ones my father sent me for Valentine's day. They bloomed right before my eyes. I'm committed to keeping them alive for as long as I can (I'm usually pretty horrible at keeping plants alive but this is a new season). They bloomed and I thought about how I finally bloomed at age 27. I finally got to a place in my life where I was no longer hiding my love life from the world--I was no longer sneaking around with people who didn't serve me. I was finally allowing myself to love and to love freely.

Late blooming comes with it's downside though. I constantly feel so behind in lessons on love. I feel like I'm struggling so much to keep up with my newly bloomed self. I feel like I missed all the memos on how to fall in and out of love--how to handle unrequited love, how to fall back in love, how to leave love behind. I'm almost 29 and I feel so lost--lost in ways that I don't experience in my professional lives.

Lost
Afraid
Uncertain
Yet, Blooming ferociously.

This is my life. This is my love.
I look forward to conquering Spring.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

I'm A Quitter...So What!?

When I was 8, I went to a cousin's wedding in Lansing, Michigan. My mom and I stayed after the wedding festivities to sight-see. One afternoon, we were walking to the public bus and it flew passed us to the bus stop, a good distance away. My mom told me to run! I took off jogging, casually. Frustrated and annoyed, I stopped running. I turned around and proclaimed that I was tired and our efforts were futile. She told me to keep running. Rolling my eyes, I took off in a light sprint and the bus driver was gracious enough to wait for us to catch up (this clearly wasn't anything like the brutal NYC transit operators who could care less about you). We winded-ly climbed on the bus and to this day, my mother uses this story to lecture me about the benefits of not giving up--of not quitting.
Although my mother would never want me to stay in a toxic situation, that experience has shaped the narrative around my vigorous fight against being labeled "quitter."

I'm an overa…

Finding Love after Sexual Assault

Disclaimer: For mature audiences only
I was sexually assaulted on a first date when I was 24. The events of that evening landed me in Harlem Hospital at 2 am with a concussion and a bruise on my forehead (among other things). During the hours in which I took up residence in a private emergency room, I was coached by a nurse on how to proceed--to take legal action immediately or to not take legal action...to complete a rape kit or to not complete a rape kit. It was overwhelming. I also had to take 17 pills, mostly anti-viral meds. It was intense. There was a moment when I looked up to the ceiling and silently bemoaned. "Really God?" I said, as the quick air from a painful chuckle slipped through my lips. I felt like I was in an episode of Law & Order: SVU. I felt defeated. I felt stupid. I felt isolated. And all because I said, "yes." The details of what transpired that evening are not important to this post. What is important, however, is how the lingering trau…

"We Thought You'd Be Next." πŸ’πŸ‘°πŸΎπŸ€ͺ

Recently, my little brother got engaged. πŸŽ‰ But can I just say, Hashtag Triggered?! πŸ˜‘
I was very thrilled that he finally proposed to his now fiance and that I absolutely love her. She is so sweet and brings goodness into his world. I'm so excited for them. However, during my last trip home to New Orleans, a family member was chatting with me about it and asked about my relationship, and then proceeded to say,
"I thought you'd be next." 😣
B*TCH, ME TOO! DAMN!
I did not say this aloud as I was in my father's house (#shondo #imchurchy), but everything in my body tensed up. Every hair stood up on my boiling skin and my heart began palpitating as I attempted to calmly explain why I wouldn't "be next" while simultaneously trying not to burst into tears in front of company. I started rambling about my burgeoning career--about "our" careers--and attempting to refocus the conversation while wanting to jump into the large pot of red beans simmer…