The Pursuit of Happiness

“You okay?”

“Yea.”

That reply had become so second nature to her it didn’t really matter whether or not it was true. Talking about feelings wasn’t her forte, and she didn’t like it when people started asking questions. She’s come to understand that people mean well, but sometimes things are better left alone.

Alone.

That word was profound to her in so many ways. It’s been the defining part of most of her life — although she knows she’s never actually been alone. She has plenty of friends. She’s had her fair share of relationships. A social butterfly, she made connections everywhere she went, and people seemed to flock to her without any conscious effort on her part. Strangers opened up to her all the time, (sometimes becoming a little too open) even when all she had done was smile at them. Yet, when she laid in bed at night she couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming emptiness. No matter how great life seemed on the surface, she never felt the joy that she’d seen others experience…at least not that she could recall. She’s heard people say that happiness is a choice. She wrestled with this thought constantly but could never quite grasp the concept. Who wouldn’t choose to be happy? Who doesn’t want to feel fulfilled? I mean yes people go through things — things that may feel unimaginably terrifying and never-ending. They experience the pain of loss. Loss of a loved one, loss of a dream, loss of something as trivial yet undeniably needed as money. But some sort of adversity is to be expected, because no one’s life is perfect. Life goes on even if we’re not ready to. People still need to get up and go to work, take care of their children, and most importantly — live their lives. Choose to remain positive and know — or at least hope — that the bad won’t last forever. But is that really choosing to be happy? Or just suppressing the sadness? “Fake it til’ you make it” she tells herself all the time, always failing miserably. Anyone with the ability to read her thoughts would probably feel sorry for her. Hell, they probably wouldn’t even last an hour in her head, wondering how someone can seem so normal — yet be so excruciatingly complicated, emotional, and maybe even a little bit crazy.

Her problem is that her happiness has always been dependent on the people around her. Her motto is: if the people she loves are happy — then she’s happy. Her friends who are excelling in their careers and/or aspirations. That family member who is finally getting everything they worked for. That ex or crush who’s moved on or just doesn’t reciprocate the same feelings. Wanting happiness for the people she cares for regardless of where she is in her life, or how she feels. All her life she’s been a people pleaser. Never wanting to make anyone angry. Afraid to do or say anything that might make her lose those close to her. Sometimes holding on so tight she ends up losing them anyway. Willing to risk her health, her sanity — to keep others happy. Biting her tongue, swallowing her pride, and sucking it up because it’s not about her — it’s about the people around her. Because isn’t that what life is? Wanting people you love to be happy?

Her definition of love might be jaded — depending on who you ask — but her definition of happiness is definitely biased. What life has taught her about love, has somehow intertwined with her definition of happiness.

Keep everyone happy and there will be peace. There will be no arguments, no feelings hurt, no one walking out on her. Continue to give all of herself to everyone by any means necessary, until there’s nothing left and she’s left feeling empty. Alone. Until she’s successfully avoided causing any pain, and instead has absorbed it all herself. Until she’s drained of happiness because…she has none left.

She’s become so focused on the people around her, that she’s not even sure she knows what it truly means to be happy. To be loved. To be proud of the person she is, and the woman she has become. To be happy she has people who are there for her. To have people who love her and that haven’t left her. To be happy she’s alive and to be willing to live not for other people — but for herself.

She realizes that it’s time to allow herself to be happy. To not feel guilt or sorrow for the things she cannot control. To realize that people are human, they make mistakes, and get upset. To understand that maintaining everyone else’s happiness is not only unrealistic, but unhealthy. To know that just loving oneself should be enough happiness to last a lifetime. And learning that you can never truly be happy, until you put yourself first.

“Hey, you okay?”

Her reflection smiles back at her.

“Yea. I’ll be okay. So long as you’re happy, I’m happy.”

Suddenly the word alone brings on a whole new meaning. The true pursuit of happiness. And she’s okay with that.

Posted on January 14, 2019January 14, 2019 by Christiana 0

Mother’s Day 2018

They say that time heals all…
So why is it that after every turn I hit a brick wall?
Every time that I’m about to reach the finish line I stall…
Because how can I possibly walk when I can barely crawl?
The more time that passes the more I feel like I’m going to explode
The more I think of your memories, the bigger the burden, the heavier the load.
The more and more I wish I could hug you everyday and tell you how much I love you so.
The more I wish I could run away…as long as I have you by my side I’m good to go.
So many questions unasked, so many things left unsaid
I miss you so much it hurts, I’d almost rather be dead.
A heart bigger than anyone I know-
I couldn’t understand it then, but now more than ever, I see your legacy continues to grow
But see the older I get the more I feel that I’ve reached an all time low
I’ve had people tell me to “Get over it.”- but they’ve never had a parent leave at 12 years old to protect them… so what the _____ do they know?
I’ve thought so many times about what I’d say if I ever saw you again,
And I feel if I never get the opportunity to- my heart may never be able to mend.
The root of who I am is you
And I think that from the moment you pushed me out- you realized it too.
So many milestones I wished we could’ve shared
Some impossible to celebrate because I just couldn’t bear
I remember my 13th birthday like it was yesterday… man life just ain’t fair.
I question if I can ever again be whole
How can I ever really be myself if I can’t even play the role?
I want more than anything to be at peace,
And for you to know that my love and admiration for you will never cease.
I will never stop searching for you until the day we reunite
Because whether it’s on earth or in heaven I won’t give up without a fight.
Mon coeur,
Mon âme,
Mon amour,
Until we meet again I just want to say,
Je t’aime maman and Happy Mother’s Day
Forever in my heart and in my prayers will you stay.

Posted on May 13, 2018 by Christiana 0

Black is Beautiful

Racism- prejudice, discrimination, or antagonism directed against someone of a different race based on the belief that one’s own race is superior.

Racism is something that is taught. It is not something that is innate. We are not born with the ability to see color or to judge those who do not share the same culture, or that do not look like us.

Racism in itself is a huge epidemic all over the world, particularly in America. We all know this to be true, whether we choose to admit it or not. But what about bias? The division within our own communities? Our OWN race?

POC come in all different shades, sizes, and nationalities. I choose to use the term POC instead of minority, because well for one I never liked that term. Why must we be the MINORITY? Why should we be grouped into a category where the word in itself has a negative connotation?

I am a POC and proud to be. I embrace every opportunity to celebrate my race and culture, and jump at any opportunity to ignite the inner activist in me.

If I had a dollar for every time someone told me— “You don’t look Haitian”, “I thought you were Hispanic”, “Are you sure you’re not mixed?”, or “Are both your parents Black?”, I would be living on my own private island right now, away from this joke we call a country, and blasphemy we must accept as president; sipping on something dark of course.

They say ignorance is bliss but I disagree. What does being Haitian look like? What are the guidelines I should follow and what are the qualifications I should uphold in order for me to prove myself to you? Why should I have to prove myself to…anyone?

If I sound annoyed, it’s because I am. Imagine hearing your entire life that you’re too light skinned, that you have that “white people hair” and being bombarded with the same questions over and over again. Constantly having to prove that your Black is good enough. That YOU are enough.

As crazy as it may seem, I find myself giving in to those questions. Even worse, questioning my own identity. Wishing I was darker skinned. Wishing my curls were more of a 4c instead of whatever it is now. Contemplating starting a conversation with a stranger and risk spending 10 minutes discussing nationality. Admiring those who have those “defining features” that I do not.

Some might say, well don’t answer their questions. Some might think, your Black is beautiful just the way you are. And some, well some might just say who cares? From my experience … EVERYONE. It’s easy to say don’t answer their questions, but even the most evasive answers only leads to more questions, more doubt. It’s easy to say— just embrace your Blackness, without thinking of the power of words and the effect of repetition. It’s probably easiest to say who cares, when in actuality everyone seems to make it a point to.

So yes, I love me and I wouldn’t change me for the world. I love my people more than anyone can imagine and couldn’t imagine a world without our ideals, our foods, our languages, our music, so on and so forth.

But at the end of the day, in the eyes of the oppressor, we are all one in the same. We all feel the hurt when we lose one of our own due to social injustice. We all feel the anger when still, in the year 2018 eyes follow us throughout the store. When we are arrested because to them— all Blacks fit the same description. When one of us is locked up due to the smallest amount of weed, while our counterparts continue to walk away Scott Free with bigger drug possessions, rape and murder charges. Incarceration IS modern day slavery— stay woke.

I say all of this to say…

You can ask me where I’m from, without casting doubt.

You can comment on my hair without referring to it as “good hair” (there is no such thing as good or bad hair), or “white people hair” (Pretty sure they wouldn’t know what to do with my hair).

I know I’m light skinned— lighter than most— there’s no need to point out the obvious.

Most importantly recognize that we are all individuals who share the same race and culture.

We have enough riding on us, we don’t need to put added pressure on ourselves and each other.

Let’s show others that we are more than our looks, and that we stand united.

And let’s show each other that, for POC it’s not our features that define us, but what lies beneath.

Black is beautiful in all shapes, shades, and sizes; so let’s show the world our Black girl magic and our Black boy joy.

Posted on March 11, 2018May 13, 2018 by Christiana 0

The Race Against Time

Time is all we think we have.
Tomorrow isn’t promised but we wake up everyday taking for granted the time we have.
The time we have to take advantage of opportunities, to spend time with the people we love, to tell people how we feel before it’s too late.
It’s time.
Time for me to put myself out there, make my dreams come true by any means.
It’s time.
Time to take advantage of the time I have with the people that I care for, that are still here for me.
It’s time.
Time to experience new things and not be afraid to take chances.
It’s always better to learn from the mistakes we make, than to deal with the what ifs.
There is no worse feeling than the unknown, wondering what could of been.
It’s time.
Because time is all I have and every second counts.

Posted on October 26, 2016May 13, 2018 by Christiana 0

The Happiness Trap

Where do I begin? When does it end? Endless hurt and heartbreak I’m so far gone, my heart may never be able to mend.
I have a huge heart when it comes to those that I love
And when they abandon me I start to question the Lord up above
I know I’m not perfect, and I’m constantly trying to do better, to be better
But tears threaten to fall, as my thoughts come to life in this letter
You see I want nothing more than to be the woman I’m destined to be
I’ve been through hell and back and have overcome so many adversities
I look in the mirror and see a beautiful, intelligent, overachiever
Someone who doesn’t see failure as an option, a true believer
In all things positive when things are going well
But as soon as things hit rock bottom I feel trapped, as if stuck in a solitary confinement cell
My image becomes distorted and my past comes back to haunt me
It all goes back to that one faithful day you see
All I can think is mommy where’d you go, I thought we had a special connection…didn’t we?
Dad you weren’t around what can I say?
It’s been too long, so much was left unsaid – I had no choice but to keep you at bay
Now when I search for answers I’m always lost
When I try to figure things out, it’s always too late, never without a cost
Never without losing the ones I love and care for so much
Me myself and I, is who I can depend on I’ve learned to be my own crutch
I know all my strengths and my weaknesses I embrace
Only I have the power to change the things I don’t like, and my faults I must face
Life is a never ending journey and I’m in the drivers seat
With each accident along the way a part of me is lost, and all I’m left with is defeat
Never made completely whole again, never fully recovered
Only a small part of me discovered
The rest of me left uncovered
It always comes back the same
My thoughts threatening to drive me insane
Why can’t I figure it out, what’s wrong with me?
All I want is to be happy, to be set free
From all my demons of the past and to make peace internally
But still I drive and continue on life’s highway
Praying that each passing mile doesn’t lead me further astray
With no map, no guidance all I can do is take it day by day
Building my strength as I go, maybe eventually…I’ll learn to be okay.

Posted on October 25, 2016May 13, 2018 by Christiana 0

A Day in the Life

Simply Me. A Few Poems and Short Stories Written By Yours Truly.