Tag: self confidence

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.

Copyright 2019 Christiana Parisien

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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.

Copyright 2018 Christiana Parisien

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Pretty Hurts

Pretty Hurts…
Females are subjected to criticism and body image before they even hit puberty
Girls must be slim but not too thick or too skinny
Makeup is considered a necessity
Skin bleaching or tanning is considered the norm
I Am Not My Hair…
Blondes have more fun
Straight hair is better than natural, and weave is a must
Reveal too much skin and be open about your sexuality,
and you‘re promiscuous
Dress conservatively and remain celibate,
and you‘re a prude
Reveal your animosity about rape or sexual discrimination,
you’re a feminist
Sex sells and females are sexually exploited though the media,
but they preach that women should value their bodies
Beauty Is Only Skin Deep…
Intelligence is associated with lack of good looks,
and if a woman is smart and “pretty”, she is considered a rare breed
A woman must choose between her career and motherhood,
because she cannot be good at one job, without failing at another
If a girl is made a mother before she is ready,
she is criticized regardless of the decision she makes,
even though it is her life, her body
She must act like a lady, and think like a man
She must always maintain a perfect appearance
She must not make herself too available, too easy,
but she must not let a man wait too long otherwise she will lose him
She must abide by the double standard or be judged by society
Women who have high standards are too high maintenance,
and must learn to settle for whatever or whoever life gives them
Women are weak and feebleminded,
too emotionally unstable to make rational decisions
Not enough positivity associated with a females’ persona,
and too much prominence on her figure
Yielding women to be more obsessed with what they see in the mirror,
than the beauty in their intellect
Wanting men to stimulate their sexual desires,
without allowing them to first stimulate their mind
Women,
when will we come to see,
inside and out we are as beautiful as can be
Don’t let this world consume you,
be who you are and you’ll love the person it molds you into

Copyright 2015 Christiana Parisien

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