A Drop of History

Standing and looking over the cliff of empty nester life, I find myself surrounded by friends who are newlyweds and parents. These friends are just starting or growing their young families. I enjoy their company, listening to their stories, laughing with them and sometimes meting out advice. Every now and then, I feel a twinge of short-lived jealousy thinking I’m open to raising another child. However, I like better the idea of borrowing one of theirs and giving it back. After returning said child, I know I can reclaim my new life of responsibility for me, myself and I. I've earned this bit of selfishness after 18 years! Self reflection is a huge part of witnessing the experiences. I relate, having once been a new mom/parent also. I listen to their stories and remember my own experience of giving birth. If I shared that part of my life, you would hear all the excitement, fears and joy I felt when my son joined the universe. I know that just like me, my friends will share their stories with their children and they will claim and love it. My son loves hearing that part of his story. It is one drop amongst many others in the history of his life.

As an adoptee, that part of my own story has been fleeting. Before I learned I was adopted, I tried to imagine my mom pregnant with me in her stomach. She was always Foxy-Cleopatra-Brown-fine in her bell-bottoms, snug blouses, wigs and make up. I couldn't imagine her with a big belly, let alone birthing the four of us. She always spoke gently about our birth stories. There was rarely detail; especially with me. When I learned to do math, I figured out that she was 27 years older than me. That age seemed pretty old to be having babies in my young mind but there were too many of us to deny some birthing had in fact happened.

Always fond of the camera and pictures, even as a kid I loved browsing family photos in search of me and my siblings and other relatives. It was much later in life that I realized the tragedy of mom responding that a baby photo was one of my siblings while indicating that perhaps this or that unmarked chubby, brown bambino was me. It just didn't hit me then. Nor did it hit me when I learned I was adopted at age 10. It began to hit me when I realized that everything I thought I knew about how I came to exist was a lie. Perhaps a lie intended for protection, but a lie just the same. It hits me now when I listen to the stories of my friends and understand that I will never hear the joy my parents felt when I entered the world. I will never know if it was a difficult or easy birth. Or if my mom cried when she first laid eyes upon me, as I did when I saw my son. I will never hear about my dad pacing or fainting in the delivery room. I know now that in fact, he wasn't there. I will never see pictures of my baby room. I will never know if I stayed up all night but slept all day, if I was colicky or cried a lot. Lost further in the archives of foster parent life are stories of when I first smiled or got my first tooth. As an adoptee, it is not uncommon to learn that certain facts about your existence are lost to you. You learn to live with them. Can’t miss what you never had- right?

All in all, I'm thankful for my memories and the numerous photos I took of my son. As long as they exist, I can share them with him and his children should I have the opportunity. I tell him stories about his life now without him asking because I understand the importance. I smile at the stories of my friends and even those shared by my husband’s family of his life beginnings. I tell my friends to record and document everything. While I’ll never know parts of my own story, I try to weave parts of it together with the bits of history I picked up via my reunion. I live vicariously through my experiences and those of my friends and family. I smile with them at pictures and laugh at the funny incidents that occur when I'm present. I accept that our collective experiences may be the only opportunity and insight I receive to fill in the blanks of my personal history. Every drop counts. But sometimes that reality and acceptance makes me cry and lament over the drops that I can never regain.

 

Interested in my adoption/reunion story? Follow/visit my other blog - findinggloriamarie@blogspot.com

 

Hair Nightmares: Sometimes free ain't free

A couple of nights ago, I had a nightmare. A Mary Kay Consultant offered to give me a mini make-over after saying that she did free make-up and trims. Instead, she chopped off a great deal of my hair. In reviewing the dream, I understood why I accepted her doing my make-up. Mary Kay is well known in our communities for their make-up products. That makes total sense. BUT- why I allowed her to give me a TRIM is another story. When she finished, she spun my chair around and showed me the final results in a huge, bevel-edged mirror. What I saw was not what I imagined when I said yes. I expected me, with good looking ends. What I got was half bob/half 80's Patti Labelle wig... Think this little self portrait I did:

My exact expression. lol

As soon as I saw myself, I lost it, crying and screaming- WHAT DID YOU DO??!!  I was inconsolably sick over it in the dream AND still in that state when I woke up. It was THAT real. I found myself trying to think of how I'd explain to my stylist Nikki what happened and worrying about the long journey back to my current length. I imagined YEARS of the same hard work I put in to get here!

Thank God it wasn't real but I'm still feeling a bit traumatized! I've heard horror stories about stylists applying relaxers in disguise as a deep treatment much to the dismay of their natural clients. I've even had a stylist go scissor crazy on my natural hair. This dream however, seemed worse than real life. Maybe because it was actually LIKE real life. We put a great deal of trust and expectation into strangers every day. We believe someone will care for every part of us, with the same or better love and level of attention that we give ourselves. And if they don't- as a society we sue, cuss them out, ruin their reputations. We do it every day with doctors, dentists, employers and yes- hair dressers. We believe that because they came with a reputation, degree and/or word of mouth they will serve or treat us right. This isn't a bad thing. But, the truth is, care for you- starts with YOU and your decisions. In my nightmare, a snap decision led me to a place I quickly regretted. I didn't think it through. I wanted what I wanted. It seemed an attractive opportunity and while it didn't cost anything- I paid the price. I also understood the lesson- sometimes free ain't free. As I typed, I connected this line of thought to my personal fitness quest. I understand that every time I document my food journal and follow my eating plan, I'm caring for me. Every time I hit the pavement in preparation for my first 5k, I'm caring for me. With every Zumba routine, I'm caring for me. It doesn't have to cost me anything to get in shape and if it does- I know I'm worth it. Likewise, I need to keep in mind that it WILL cost me to continue being out of shape and eating poorly. I'm trying to change that and the process of change is more than a snap decision. I have to keep it at the forefront daily. I have thought about and calculated the costs of not caring. That price is far higher than anything I'm willing to pay or that I can afford.

Interesting the things a dream can teach you, huh?

Good bye wash-n-go's, Hello protective styles!

This is a combo post. Previously, I've discussed my weight loss journey and hair separately but the truth is- they're connected. During the last month of summer I primarily styled my hair via wash and go's (wngs) because it seemed that my journey of working out and getting fit was causing me to wash or rinse my hair almost daily. I sweat like nobody's business when I teach Zumba and most of it comes from the head and shoulders (don't judge me). Wearing scarves and pin-ups do not help the matter. When I try to go to sleep, the sweat on my scalp causes the itchies and as a result, I get no sleep. So, wash and go styles were in my best interest all summer! I figured- if it ain't broke, why fix it!

In September I decided to exercise a minimum of 30 minutes per day thanks to a FaceBook challenge from MTV Real World cast original- Kevin Powell. I already teach Zumba 2-3 times a week but I decided to add some layers to my workout regimen. With this plan in mind, I completed my first walk/run in September. I use the Ease Into 5K application (formerly known as C25K. Check it out if you can and are interested in running. It's pretty cool). During the months of August and September I would rinse or co-wash (using As I am Coconut Co-Wash) after my workouts, add leave-in conditioner, EcoStyler Pink and head out. By the end, I'd begun to squeeze out the excess water and conditioner (learned this from vlogger ShidaNaturals, whom I LOVE) before adding the gel. This sped up my drying time and lessened shrinkage. Since I was working out in the evenings, I would just wait until the morning to do the entire process again. NOW... it is pretty cool outside and wash and go styles are no longer practical. Venturing from the house with wet hair isn't the best idea. I have no interest in getting sick or drinking that icky blue stuff that's supposed to ease symptoms so I can get some rest. No sir/ma'am- I'll take my sleep without sickness or medication for all the money, Alex!! So, I've decided to mostly keep my hair in protective styles all fall and winter. I'll primarily wear twisted pin-up styles (similar to the one shown above), co-washing or rinsing at night so that my hair will be dry in the a.m.

Ultimately, this plan will assist my workouts versus hinder them. My workouts are now a priority and not a secondary thing that can be skipped at whim. Being natural has helped me maintain this thought process. A lot of this is mental. When I was relaxed- I wasn't relaxed at all. Before every workout I was so uptight about messing up my hair especially if it was freshly done! With that concern long out of the way- I have other worries. Soon enough I'll have to bring my entire workout inside to the gym but right now I soooo enjoy the outdoors (can't believe I'm saying that!), the brisk, fresh air and the sun. My journey includes caring for my entire self and sticking to it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy for and about myself. It makes me proud of ME for making self care a priority. You only get one you. I can never say enough to you or me- Take care of yourself, head to toe, inside AND out. Moreover, don't let a little thing like hair get in the way.

~PEACE and LOVE, NATURALLY