Your candor in living this, writing it out, and sharing it is….stunning. Not in a "bad way", mind you. I found myself reading it and thinking, "Yep, she's gonna get plastered." (like most folks might) And then, when you called for weed, I was thinking, "Well, dang, she went a bit further than I thought she would!" Then, I didn't think you smoke it. Then I didn't think you'd TELL US you smoked it! But when I kept reading, I found my jaw (which had dropped on the puff-puff-pass part) closing and a smile slowly spreading. And suddenly I saw something in you that I saw (and still see) in myself. If you need proof that what I'm about to say is true, I offer this: I've kicked cancer's ass 4 times (and am currently fighting my 5th fight with it), died 3 times (clinically dead), had one should-have-been-fatal car accident, was beaten (and sexually assaulted), and grew up gay as a two-dollar bill in backwoods Alabama.
YOU are the blessing, Chantelle. Sometimes God puts us through things to teach us something. Sometimes He puts us through things to teach others. There is a young woman out there right now reading this who has been cut from her basketball team and feels useless. Or who's been told she "can't" do something. Someone who feels hopeless, helpless, and stuck. I guarantee you, after reading this, that burden is lifted just a bit…for just a moment.
I used to think God was this being we had to look up to or someone we must beg things out of. Then there were days I questioned that there was anything there at all. Going past Christianity, Catholicism, and every other religion, I can tell you there's got to be something higher than me. Bigger than you. More wonderful than love, sex, good food,…and weed (and definitely better than vodka). The thing is, we all must realize that this "being" isn't detached. It's under your skin.
Every religion on this planet celebrates our connection with the Higher Being (I'll call it God for now). What is lost in translation, sometimes, is that we're a part of it. When you hurt, the body of God hurts with you. When you need strength, the body of God will cover you. And when you need a good beat-down, the body of God will sustain until Truth breaks through.
God doesn't give you more than you can handle because you don't handle it alone. Oh yes, you will feel alone. You will even "see" that you're the only one in the middle of your living room floor, writhing in emotional pain, and crying tears whose sound was choked by fear. But you are not. You were not.
I am living, breathing, very pale-skinned proof that my life does not belong to me. I have had ample reason and opportunity to lose it. But since I know my life doesn't belong to me, I don't have a right to end it. It doesn't just belong to God, mind you. It belongs to a girl in GA who makes me laugh without trying. To a woman who lives in Chi-town and dances like a silly fool—with abandon and very little shame. To a man in Phoenix who shares his life and his humor with a gentle hand and searing eyes (when you're wearing the right top). To a woman who can palm a basketball, strut better than most, and laughs with ease at herself and everything else. To those who read my writing, inspire my designs, and feel my hugs. I do not belong to myself. I am responsible for me…but there are those who trust me to do what I can to be there when they want to laugh, dance, flirt, play ball, read, critique…and need a hug.
And if you ever need to remember that…if you ever need a reason outside yourself to go on, think of one name…one person in your life…any random person. An opponent who's a friend…your dentist…your dad…anyone. And let their life be an example for you. Not things they've done with that life….the fact that they have a life at all. The fact that they breathe. The fact that they might look to you for something, anything, to tell them it's okay to hurt…to cry… to bend. Remember, through them, that the body of God won't let you break. And if you have to….I'm Emily. You can think of me.
Popularity: 3% [?]
fear (fîr) – A feeling of agitation and anxiety caused by the presence or imminence of danger. A feeling of disquiet or apprehension.
I have spent most of my life in fear… Of not being good enough Of not getting out of a this stifling town Of not getting what I want Of roaches Of being taken advantage of Of loving too hard Of getting hurt mentally and physically Of rejection Of spiders Of letting people down Of not living up to expectations Of my health Of growing older and not wiser Of being alone…
I'm sure there are a million other things I've been scared of…too many to list. And now, on the precipice of joining my life with you, I can say that I have no fear. I'm excited, but not fearful. I'm too happy to allow fear in.
I think my most favorite part of the day is when I get to see you fall asleep…. Combating slumber like a warrior until you finally lose the battle and your eyelashes rest against your cheeks… Hearing your breathing slow down and turn into a rhythmic in and out sound that lulls me into a sleep myself… Feeling you wiggle against me when you roll over and put your backside against mine… And hearing you whisper back when I tell you that I love you.. this little night-time ritual feeds my soul.
My life before you, as you know, was hard, strange, difficult, and stressful. And while there were definitely bright moments, I can certainly tell the difference between my life with you and my life without you.
My life now is less complicated, content, fun, complete, and enjoyable. It's full of laughter and giggles. It's not always easy, but at the end of the day, I know you love me more than anything… just the way that I love you.
And I take extreme joy in the notion that I'm going to spend every night and every day with you. Growing, learning, loving, and being with you. My life is so full of quiet contentment that I don't have any room for nervousness or fear…
Not about us, anyway.
Popularity: 1% [?]
She will never be the league’s “face”…she doesn’t have the face for it, frankly. She will never be an overwhelming fan favorite, though the fans that do follow her game are very loyal. She’s not the smartest, most out-going, or charismatic. And she looks horrible in her “away” jersey…her skin tone doesn’t have the ability to carry off that color!
She’s a “support” player, not a “game-changer”. She’s not “amazing” but can be “clutch”. She’s not “explosive” but has been “on fire”. She’s “great in the paint” even though she rarely “shoots off the dribble”. And although she hits the ground a lot, the free throws she gets often barely hit the net when they go through.
She’s tall and short, solid and fluid, big and small, depending on whom you ask. She doesn’t hesitate, give excuses, or take her life for granted. She knows she’s blessed, still gets the chills when someone asks for her autograph, and can’t stop smiling even after the pictures are taken. She remembers what “dating” was like, is kinda sure she still knows how to kiss, and dances with abandon because she forgets she’s not in the locker room with her friends. There are private jokes, outrageous pranks, and more secrets than any society of any kind.
And I see her.
The shy smile, the looking away, the blushing, and the genuine, “Thank you.” She shrugs when you ask how she’s feeling and rarely complains. She laughs when you ask what it’s like to stand in the shadow of someone a foot shorter. She giggles when you ask what it’s like to defend against someone a foot taller. She knows people come to see her play… but is still tickled when people come to see HER play.
Her posture is relaxed, her gait is unhurried, her stride is long…but she puts an arm around a friend, slows down when necessary, and takes “baby-ish” steps so folks can keep up. She doesn’t run the court, the floor, or the show. She laughs easily, doesn’t mind being picked on, and giggles at everything she finds funny (even if she’s the only one laughing). She shares her life, her stories, and her fries. She’s got a smile that could go without notice, eyes that light up if you’re paying attention, and a laugh that's soft but infectious. And she’s evolved her “trash talk” from talking about “ya mama”, “ya boy”, and “ya girlfriend” to being about “ya knees”, “ya back”, and “ya ass”.
Yeah, okay…so what’s-her-name can dunk…But she can’t pass the ball to herself. And so-and-so’s averaging 30 points a game…But she can’t stop defenders who tower over her. And yeah, I see that “star” and how she shoots 70%+ from behind the arc…But you can’t win a game from way out there.
No, she’s not the face that stands out in the crowd. But it’s her face I look for, her defense I clap for, her eyes I watch when the pressure is on. She’s aggressive but with a soft touch. She’s dynamic but stands in the back. She’s the underdog, the “support”, the “backbone”, the silent legs that hold that up the pedestal that carries the “star”.
Oh, yes. I see you, Ma’.
Keep smiling. Keep blocking. Keep holding. Keep running. Keep playing. You are not invisible. You will not be forgotten. You are appreciated. You are strong. You are mighty. You are amazing.
And you’re my favorite.
Popularity: 5% [?]
I made this for my buddy, Miracle. I hope she likes it.
**Photo by Hafees Byard.
Popularity: 25% [?]
In Phoenix there are cacti, tumbleweeds, and dirt.. And there's a good number of bushes, but hardly any trees. And god, you can drive for hours downtown And never…EVER find MickeyD's!
But today there's something brewing, It's got the dust swirlin' 'round. And there's a group of women who feel it They know the Storm's back in town.
The weather report is the same- It's HOT and has been for years… And Mercury is rising higher Fueled by X-factor cheers.
They'll pummel the clouds with free throws.. Hammer it with field goals and threes. And, in the end, the big, bad Storm… Will be nothing more than a breeze!
It's GAME DAY BABY! GO MERC!!!!!
