Tuesday, April 21, 2009

Sacrifice vs. Compromise

I was speaking with a friend of mine recently and as she routinely did over the last couple years, she began to express all of the drama in her relationship. No stranger to the reoccurring issues and complaints surrounding her relationship, I finally asked her one simple question, “why do you stay in this relationship if you are not happy?’ What I thought was a simple question, which I hoped would warrant a direct response, turned into an hour of excuses. I most certainly can understand that relationships are tough and sometimes there is not a simple answer but, she changed her answer so much I was almost convinced that she truly could not answer the question. She went from telling me she stayed in the relationship because “she was not getting any younger,” to “we recently moved in together and both have a kid and the breakup would be difficult for the children to handle.” After sifting through several more of her excuses, and asking a couple of probing questions, together we arrived at the TRUTH, “I stay because I am afraid.” She was afraid that although she had issues with her man, she would not find anyone who had all of the good qualities that he possessed. She was afraid, due impart to what she had been exposed to in her occupation in the medical field, that she would put herself at risk if she decided to wait to have more children in her later years. The biggest thing she was afraid of brought tears to her eyes; she was afraid of having to deal with the pain of letting go, moving on, and healing. The common denominator that many people can relate to is that nobody wants nor looks forward to having a broken heart. We also do not enjoy the process of having to heal. Although we can look back once we have come out on the other side of the process with growth, when we are in the trenches going through and experiencing the misery and pain, often we can not see the light at the end of the tunnel.

I believe that everyone can relate to the fear of change. It’s the idea that you have to do something or go somewhere that is out of the “norm” for you and in some cases, albeit known or unknown, the outcome of the change prohibits us from feeling comfortable and willing to embrace it. I am an avid traveler who is not keen on having to fly. Although I do it frequently, I sometimes feel a sense of uneasiness when I fly. I refuse to allow the fear or flying to prohibit me from indulging in the happiness and pleasure that traveling provides me with. Being a woman of faith, I explained to my friend that “GOD does not give us the spirit of fear.” My question to her was “how much of this fear that you are burdened with will you allow to control and dictate your happiness?”

There were so many layers to the conversation we shared. We both laid out the “terms and conditions” of what we expected in our relationships and the “deal breakers” that would cause us to end this contract. It was evident that our views were very different. She seemed to believe that it was unrealistic to 1) Expect that a man could be in a relationship and NEVER cheat 2) She could find someone who satisfied her on all levels 3) She could still desire marriage and more children while being single, without feeling she was untrue to her desires. As a result of our own personal experiences, I discovered that in this situation, I was the optimist and she the pessimist.

At one point she asked me, “so what if you turn 70 years old and you never got married or had kids, do you think you would really be happy?” She explained to me that although she may have to endure unhappiness (for the most part) in her relationship, she felt that she would be much happier at 70 years old with someone then to be alone. I answered he question explaining that there was no difference in both of our desires to be married and have kids. Infact, the only difference was that I did not want the relationship at the expense of my own happiness.

This very candid and uninhibited conversation provoked thought and more importantly, it reaffirmed my belief that in order to be in a relationship, I should NOT have to compromise my own happiness. I believe that every relationship takes hard work and patience; that there will be sacrifices that are made in order for two individuals to come together as one unit. There is however, a difference between making sacrifices and compromises. Depending on which interpretation you agree with or version dictionary you use, Sacrifice vs. Compromise may be similar, closely related, and in some cases acceptable to do but, they are NOT the same thing. The word com-PROMISE is your word; it is a promise or vowel that you make to yourself based on your own morals, believes, and values. Everyone has probably heard the saying that “you are only as good as your word.” This means that there is great pride and honor in keeping the sacred oath that one renders. When I think about the things that I AM willing to forgo, I relate that to making a sacrifice. A sacrifice is giving up something for the GREATER good that will follow. It is just hard for me to believe that breaking an important promise to myself, my word, is what I should be expected to do in order to maintain a relationship. I would be giving up the very essence of what makes me who I am in order to accommodate someone else’s version of what they want me to be.

I believe that life is short and when you CHOOSE to live it without including pursuing happiness as one of your objectives, before you know it, you may wake up one morning only to realize that you have spent so much of your life compromising who you are and letting life pass you by. My life experiences and observations have showed me that one of the key factors in discovering true happiness in your relationships is that you must build your foundation with a mutual respect and common values. Above all, you must remember that before you can give of yourself to someone, you must ensure that your own happiness and morals will not be compromised.

Thursday, April 2, 2009

Is 30 the new 20????

It seems like just yesterday I was turning 25! I remember thinking to myself t “this was the perfect age.” I was old enough to not make some of my former mistakes (the lessons) but still young enough to have a good time. This summer I will be 30 and I have to admit…….I just do not feel 30. Seeing as though I have never been 30 before and will never be 30 again after this year, I have no clue what being 30 feels like. I keep hearing that “30 is the new 20” but I am beginning to wonder if it’s just something people getting older say just so they feel hip and cool.
Don’t get me wrong, I somewhat subscribe to the theory that “you are as old as you feel” but let’s face it, we all know that we have relatives or friends who are stuck in their 20’s but are old enough to be your grandparent. You know the type, the older man that gets his ears pierced……in both ears; the women who is 50 and still bearing her midriff every chance she gets; the people that really that take it a step further and go out of their way to be on the scene of any and every event they can when clearly they are ALWAYS the elder on the scene.
I begin thinking that this “fear” of getting older has been around forever but I just refuse to surrender to it. I have never felt more alive in all my years. I know who I am and what I want……..quite honestly going back to my early 20’s doesn’t seem that appealing. I live with no regrets BUT there are definitely moments I would prefer not to visit again. I have become the woman that I am because of the lessons only my “mistakes” could teach me. I am happier, more focused, aware of everything around me, and more importantly, I have learned that GOD chose ME to go through every challenge and obstacle along my life’s journey because I am STRONG enough to conquer! My strength is what I MUST use to empower others……this is what I call my PURPOSE.
So if 30 is the new 20 then the rest of the world better put on its seatbelt because the 30 year old me has a V8 engine and I am better, wiser, and more focused than ever!!!!!

Thursday, January 22, 2009

The Battle of the Inauguration Gates

I was one of the fortunate ones, who from sheer luck, had scored a much sought after, ticket to the Inauguration. I was thrilled to have the opportunity to not only witness history, but be apart of it. Like so many other Americans, I would soon be disappointed to learn that my chance to be among the crowd to watch the first Black President be sworn in, would not happen the way I planned.


I carefully read the instructions printed on the back of my ticket. It stated that the gates of entry into my section would not open until 0900. Early arrival was suggested but I was delighted that I would not have to wake up at 0300 to brave the elements for an excessive amount of time. I was confident that having a ticket, although crowded, would guarantee me a spot in my designated section. I thought to myself, surely more tickets then what could be accommodated for would not be distributed. To my dismay, I arrived at the entry point only to be told that "ticket or not, I was not going to be let in." It was explained to me and quit evident that there were just too many people and law enforcement was not properly staffed to deal with the magnitude of people that gathered. I was determined not to have this moment be completely lost and promised to, at the very least, somehow make it to the parade to hopefully get a glimpse of our new President.



After desperately searching for any entry point into the Mall, I realized that the time was drawing near and that unless I found somewhere to watch the Inauguration, and quickly, I would miss the entire moment. I tucked myself into a crowded restaurant just in time to see Barack Obama take his oath. The entire restaurant was packed and silence filled the room as many of the defeated patrons of the, "Battle of the Inauguration Gates,"tuned in to hear the words of history. So many people begin to cry, and cheer as the last words of the oath poured from the lips of our modern day King. A few minutes later a hush fell over the room as we eagerly waited for our new leader to speak to his adorning followers. There were nodes and applause as we carefully listened to Obama's speech.


I fought the disappointment brewing inside me, I tried to convince myself that watching the speech in the warmth of the restaurant with others who had hoped to be in the crowd, was just as good, if not better than, standing in the cold. At the very least, I would attend the parade so that my trip would not be in vein. As soon as the speech ended I bolted from the restaurant doors heading toward Pennsylvania. I again encountered a mob of people desperately trying to get past the only open gate leading to the parade. There were at least three hundred people all pushing there way through trying to get to the promise land. I waited anxiously and was pushed, shoved, and finally after more than one hour, managed to slide on the other side of the iron gates to the waiting metal detector.


The setup was much like traveling through and airport, except there seemed to be way less screening devises and even fewer personnel to manage the crowd. Our belongings were briefly looked at to ensure safety but I wasn't sure how affective the screening method was. The entire process seemed more like a staged deterrent for those thinking of attempting a crime rather than an actual method for checking for any threatening or forbidden items. Once my "light search" was complete, I quickly headed to the parade route on Pennsylvania and searched for a vantage spot that would allow me to see the President and First lady. I climbed on top of a fountain across the street from the Archives of United States building. It was the last open spot and shortly after the crowds begin to fill in every empty inch of the fountain.


The parade was scheduled to start at 1430 and it was now 1330. We huddled together The crowd begin to chant Barack Obama's name, cheer "Yes we did," and even did the wave. The temperature was unbearable so we desperately tried anything to generate body heat. There were no visible warming stations and very little concessions existed to grab something warm to put in our bodies. After two hours passed the crowd begin to grow weary. I was bundled up from head to toe but my layers had proved to be no match for the arctic temperature. I could no longer feel my hands and toes. My face was numb to the touch and I was miserable. I battled to stay positive and could see the same desperation in the face of those next to me. We shared stories of our journey to DC and how much the moment meant to us. The girls next to me told their story of being denied through multiple gates earlier that morning. They arrived at 0400 and waited for more than an hour at one gate only to be told they would have to go to another where another three hour wait ensued to and proved to be just as frustrating and disappointing. They finally were able to make it through the gate and past security for the parade as a last ditch effort to share the moment. I was losing the battle and my body was aching longing for any type of heat. I verbalized this thought out loud and just as I almost gave up an older woman turned and said to me "our ancestors waited years for this moment, surely we can wait a few more minutes." She was right and somehow that inspired me to fight through the cold. I was determined to wait it out with the rest of the crowd. From the buildings behind the fountains, on the top floors of high reaching buildings, workers could be seen gathering on the balconies and on roof tops. All around me there were so many age groups and cultures, children, senior citizens, teenagers; Blacks, Whites, Asian, and Latino. People had even traveled from foreign land just to witness our great nation on this historic day.


We were unsure of the delay but would soon learned that Ted Kennedy had suffered a seizure during a post Inauguration luncheon. At approximately 1530, the parade began for a very exhausted and frozen crowd. The moment Barack and Michelle stepped foot out of their limo the crowd erupted into a thunderous cheer. We could not believe that they had just gotten out of the car directly in front of us and risked their lives just so we could see them. I was in complete shock and felt so many things inside. We waived to them and yelled their names as they slowly moved down Pennsylvania. Everyone around had their cameras and cell phones capturing this brief moment in history we got to be apart of. The previous Battle of the Inauguration Gates had instantly become a distant memory as a harmonious feeling of excitement moved through the crowd. I was overwhelmed with emotions and so happy that I made it.

I left the parade feeling satisfied and inspired. The earlier feeling of being cheated had disappeared and I had no regrets. I was so proud to be an American and for the first time in my life, I felt a patriotic sense of pride that left me convinced that I was an individual who would no longer be defined by the color of my skin.

Monday, November 10, 2008

I had a rough morning. My friend was in NY for the weekend and with her ambitious schedule that I was apart of, I was beginning to suffer from sleep deprivation. I was rushing home to make a quick change and out for work and found myself utterly exhausted. My mood that morning on my journey from her hotel to my apartment was so bad that I forgot it was election day. I exited the train at 110th St/Frederick Douglas and witnessed people in lines stretching around the block spilling from two different buildings. I immediately remembered what an important day it was and all the bad morning feelings were removed and replaced with an indescribable since of pride and joy. To say the least, I was overwhelmed with emotion as I passed by the line and looked into the eyes of everyone patiently waiting. In their eyes I saw so much hope and passion. Each person seemed to have a determination that their vote would be the one that made the difference and though I voted the prior week by absentee ballot, through them I shared in the same belief. There were Blacks and Whites, Spanish and Asian, Young and Old, people from all economic demographics; it was such a unique harmony. I thought to myself "This is the America Dr. King Dreamed of." A Dream so big it would take years to fulfill.

I got home from work and immediately turned on the television. I was anxious to hear the commentary and feedback from the experts that throughout the election campaign, I had grown to enjoy. I was confident Barrack would win but needed to hear the confirmation for it to be "real." My roommate and I received the news via a phone call, a minor delay from the DVR prohibited us from hearing the exact broadcast. I turned up the television and heard the words for myself "Barrack Obama is President Elect." We screamed and clapped. Outside you could hear the roaring sounds of horns and shouts. People were chanting and screaming at the top of their lungs 'Yes We Did!"

I suddenly realized that this moment was so much bigger than Barrack the person. It represented the progress of our country and gives us hope that the future will bring change, forgiveness, and healing. This election fulfills the Dreams of Dr. King where a man is" judged not by the color of his skin but the content of his character."
All of a sudden a huge weight was lifted from my shoulders and I now felt free at last!