The Sacrificial lamb

If you asked me in 2009 if I imagined I would be where I am today, I would look at you as if you were a psychopath. When I looked down the path of my destiny, it was a dark and ugly black hole with no light in sight. I think back to the times I was so ashamed to be me. Not only was I seen as some failure by my loved ones for not living up to their expectations because I didn’t graduate high school traditionally, I was a college dropout, and to make matters worse, I was pregnant with an abusive man at the age of 20. I had no real plans, goals, or job and I damn sure didn’t have a degree. How the fuck was I going to provide for this beautiful baby? I had labeled myself as damaged goods, and the only thing that kept me afloat in times when I didn’t want to live anymore was wanting to give my baby girl the love, protection, and guidance I needed as a young girl. She kept me alive. Someone had to break a generational cycle; someone had to be the change for the future generation, so I had to see life through. Life chose me to be the sacrificial lamb of change, so I had to see it through, and it was hell. So to survive it all I learned how to suppress feelings and emotions to keep pushing through. I was on autopilot for years to survive homelessness, food insecurity, abuse, insecurities within myself, and lack of resources.

Now, here I am in the present day, after the T-maze, I’ve experienced in life as if I were an experimental lab rat for the last 15 years. I must learn how to navigate seeing myself as an actual career woman, finally working towards my goals in animation. It has been a blessing but also a painful experience. I find myself reverting to autopilot mode. Suppressing feelings and emotions to survive what’s utterly unfamiliar and uncomfortable. Trying not to break. Having a difficult time seeing me as my peers equals. At times, feeling awkward and out of place. The little girl in me wants so badly to let go so the woman in me can show up. I feel like I’m starting life all over again, and sometimes, I wish there was a magical manual with a step-by-step guide on how to navigate unfamiliar experiences. But I guess that would ruin the mystery box life gives us in each stage of life now, wouldn’t it?

For years, I poured into myself creatively, not letting the lack of resources and support for my dreams and goals stop me from being the creative I saw myself becoming. I taught myself everything I knew as an artist and entrepreneur. Then taught and mentored young people on everything I knew, and even as a teacher, I was still a student. I took a stab at creative entrepreneurship and failed, but I learned so much along the way and guided others. You would think with all of that, even with persevering time and time again, even with actively choosing to believe in me and beating all odds against me, I wouldn't still be battling with the thought that I AM ENOUGH. That I belong in the spaces and rooms that I walk into. That I’m just as capable and smart as someone who holds a degree and has done life “the right way” or by society's standards, and that I have just as much to offer.

Last year, during therapy, one of the things I learned is how angry healing and shedding the old parts of you can make you feel. You feel vulnerable and naked, and it’s as painful as heartbreak. You know the kind of heartbreak that keeps you up at night? and when you cry, it hurts and cuts deep? Sometimes you even wonder if you’ll survive it. That’s how healing can feel. It's like you’re going through a withdrawal, removing old thoughts and habits to formulate new ones. Removing the idea that you are some victim floating in the middle of the cold sea with no one to come and save you.

It would be easy to just go back to being the poor single black mother on welfare, barely surviving off of $232 on cash assistance and $530 on food stamps a month while going back and forth to housing court because of overdue rent or saying fuck it and go back to a mouse infested shelter in the Bronx or a shelter motel in hell’s kitchen but someone has to break a generational cycle; someone has to be the change for the future generation, so I have to continue to see life through. Life chose me to be the sacrificial lamb of change, so I must see it through, even if it is uncomfortable, but at least this time, it doesn't hurt so bad, I have others who are pouring into me and I'm no longer seen as a failure.