Thursday morning, I was on the subway listening to some soca music making my way to work. As I was jamming, a random thought popped into my head – I want to go to Harlem.
I want to go to Harlem.
What a random ass thought. I’ve never been to Harlem before, and I would love to go, but why did that thought pop into my head at that time? So, I tried to analyze my own thought – English in me came out. What I realized is that I didn’t want to go to Harlem Harlem, I wanted the sense of black community and soul. I wanted Luke Cage. I wanted this.
I wanted to feel connected to something greater to me. A pretty random intention. Old Me, probably would have just ignored it, but New Me felt like this was important. If this is something that I’m craving on a subconscious level, then this is very important.
I put my intention out there in the universe with my Carnelian stone in my hand and meditated on that intention for a while. Yes, I did this on the subway on my way to work. Nonetheless, once I got to work – work happened and this little moment disappeared.
Fast forward to the end of the night, where one of my coworkers tells us about a bar called D.W. Alexander, my team and I were going to grab a drink after going Go Karting and dinner for our Team Event. #insideindeed
In either case, my co-worker said she thought I might enjoy the atmosphere there because it has a library vibe. Look for yourself…
From the moment, I stepped into the bar, I could totally picture myself just sitting there with a drink in my head reading a wonderful book. BUT folks it gets better – there was live music at the bar the night we went there. Usually, I hate live music in a bar because it’s always rock, but today it was soul music. Turns out every Third Thursday of the month the bar turns into the SoulFest Lounge. Who the fuck would have thought? The exact type of music I wanted to hear earlier today.
Added Bonus: The performer who was performing was wonderful. I felt chills and goosebumps so many times. D.W. Alexander: The Speakeasy in the Heart of Toronto, and we happened to go on the third Thursday of the month.
The Universe Works in Mysterious Ways.
I’m not a very religious person but ask and you shall receive. It’s never failed me now. I’m not sure if it was the moment in the subway, the crystal in my head, or just luck that my colleague brought us to this awesome place. Whatever force or energy brought us there, I’m grateful. Extremely grateful because I now know where to go when I’m in the need for some soul and good black company.
This past Sunday, I got the chance to walk in the Pride Parade in Toronto. More than that, I was able to do so with my best friend and my company, Indeed.com.
Although my bestie does not work at Indeed, she was definitely rocking the swag. This experience was honestly the BEST experience of my life. You can laugh or blame the alcohol, but honestly, it was the people I was surrounded around that MADE this experience for me. People who were showing their authentic self, unapologetically. Being themselves without holding back, without hiding, and without fear.
Representation matters! I will continue to shout it from the rooftops, and this year, not only, did I see people expressing who they are, I saw BLACK people expressing who they are. Being apart of a minority who checks a lot of boxes of otherness in my identity, I always love when people, especially, black people being who they are.
I could go on and on, but I want to keep this short and sweet. I never felt so included, so loved, so seen, and so me. The only thing I would change was the weather, like why did it have to rain on my parade. All of those who came out know that the rain DID NOT stop us!
I absolutely LOVED that the theme or slogan that I saw everywhere was “Celebrate Diversity.” I hope that this notion of celebrating diversity means that we celebrate ALL forms of diversity. I strongly believe that Pride is not just about diversity in sexuality and sex, I believe its about inclusivity for ALL people.
When I was first diagnosed with GAD, I was absolutely reluctant to get treatment. I did my research – and by that I mean – I googled it, and I knew there were option two options.
Option 1: Talk about my sexual abuse and PTSD, in order to find ways to cope.
Option 2: Get on pills.
Honestly y’all, neither seemed like a viable option. However, you know what was – tree. It was so much easier and socially acceptable to be a stoner than it was to admit that I needed treatment.
Fast forward into the future, and I decided to get treatment. Oddly enough, talking about it with a social worker didn’t help. So, I went with Option 2. I am maybe 4 months in, maybe longer or shorter, and I feel great.
It does suck to have to pop pills everyday, but that’s a small price to pay for all that I’ve gained. To not have random panic attacks, days of not wanting to do anything, days of being overwhelmed while doing absolutely nothing. So many days lost feeling like shit. I told my partner that I didn’t feel like myself for almost 6 months. 6 months of me walking into the world, and interacting with people acting like I was okay. 6 months of me feeling like I was silently drowning in thoughts.
Nonetheless, those are days I can’t get back, BUT being on treatment, I feel like myself. I feel like this is a good thing, even if it took modern medication to get me here.
One of my friends used to say, ” Everything is a learning experience.” It used to irritate the SHIT out of me. I would be crying about-how-some-guy-I-thought-was-the-one-ended-up-being-a dick, and she would sit there and nod, while whisper comforting things. Then say,
Everything is a learning experience.
Eventually, I realized she was right. This is why I can say I learnt something from my ex, despite all the shit he put me through. Yes, this sounds like a cliché. Nonetheless, it’s true. Even he knows it. (We’ve discussed this topic in the past.)
Before I tell you the lesson, another tangent. – I used to be a very selfless person.
With that said, the lesson my ex taught me is that it’s okay to be selfish. I always put everyone’s needs above my own. I got so used to giving, and giving, and giving. I forget what it was like to care for myself.
My ex forced me to care about me. He forced me to think about what would make me happy, and honestly it wasn’t until I met him that I started thinking about anything other than surviving. But, it wasn’t until I met my current boyfriend that I started living.
Universal, they say, “Some people come into your life for a season, and some come for a lifetime. Never mix seasonal people for lifetime expectations.” With this quote in mind, in the comment section, tell me about an experience where a seasonal person taught you a lifetime lesson.