The next step

So I was reading a post at Sincerely, Jess and as usual she dropped some knowledge that really made me think. Jess doesn’t believe in coincidences and I’m starting to think maybe she has it right.

It’s finals week here at law school and as usual for this time of year, I hate my life. I did better at actually paying attention in class this semester, and while I’m studying as hard as I can given the circumstances, I remember immersing myself much more during 1L fall and before that, in undergrad. I just don’t care. The best part of law school, to me, is everything OUTSIDE of class–like getting elected president of the Black Law Students Association. So I study just as much as I need to get a decent grade. My apathy really hit me in my exam yesterday. Normally I read and re-read my outlines until I have them damn near memorized. I didn’t do that much for my Domestic Relations final and there were a couple of questions where I thought, If I had studied harder I’d know this pat, but I just shrugged it off. The professor allowed us a one page cheat sheet and mine had plenty of white space on it because I used margins and refused to go lower than 9.5pt font–I wasn’t interesting in working that hard for an answer. My classmates had eliminated all margins and crammed an entire outline on one page in 5pt font O_O I looked at their notes and thought, Clearly I’m doing this wrong.

I have my other two serious exams tomorrow morning and Friday (both open book, but curved, and the rest of my Type A+++++ peers always do the most up to and Including cheating). Have I spent every waking moment cramming? NOPE. I briefed IP cases and highlighted important sections of my outline last night. I will be reviewing an Evidence outline and doing an IP practice exam later this afternoon and this evening. Other than that, I’m chilling. I woke up at 10:30am, worked out, vacuumed, watched The Devil’s Advocate on tv, put in a load of laundry and poked around Facebook and Google Reader and now I’m blogging. I just don’t have it in me. And unlike everyone else who is filling their 3L schedule with bar exam subjects and practice electives, I’m signed up for stuff like Therapeutic Jurisprudence and Comparative Law. Oh, and a four hour practicum so that’s less time I have to spend at school and one less final.

I take solace in reading–Game of Thrones, currently. The written word holds a neverending fascination for me. Writing & reading & learning have always been the things I loved to do more than anything else, but the practical side of me thought, I can always do that on the side but I need a “real” career to make money. 2/3 done with law school and I’m realizing that while I would make a good lawyer, I’m not at all excited to be one. Last night I thought, I will NEVER again do something just because it makes sense. A law degree will no doubt help me in whatever I choose to do, and I’ve learned a lot that is useful, but I’m not sure that will outweigh the three years I spend doing something that bores me. makes me realize that maybe that’s why I had to go to law school…to be forced to see that I’m meant to do something else.

So yes, I will finish law school but I’m not sure I even want to take the bar. I really want to apply to Teach for America. Education is something I really care about and I love to impart knowledge. And one day (sooner rather than later, I hope) I want to complete an MA program in creative writing. I know I have talent, but I’ve always wanted to immerse myself in creating poems, short stories, even novels. And writing is a craft you have to train for just like anything else. I know that everybody is going to look at me crazy, especially my father, but I don’t want to waste any more time than I have to being unhappy. YOLO.

 

Success in Failure Pt. 2

They say that failures are the key to success, for without them you don’t learn anything.

I think I finally understand what that means. Law school wasn’t what I wanted it to be, but everything happens for a reason and I trust that it’s all part of God’s plan. I know law school wasn’t a mistake, because when I look back at the beginning there was nothing telling me “no, you should do something else”.  I knew at some point in life, I would come against a stumbling block because school has always been so easy for me. My family used to say that school was invented with me in mind. I was a straight-A student up until college, where I still made the Dean’s List for 7 out of the 8 semesters I was there. I read everything and had near photographic memory when it came to the subjects I enjoyed most- language arts and social studies. I was in the Talented and Gifted program and considered something of a wunderkind in my community. (I say all this not out of arrogance, but to give you some contextual background for my seemingly sudden change of heart about law school.)

For my eighth birthday, my father gave me a child’s biography of Martin Luther King, Jr. I grew up about 30 minutes from his hometown of Atlanta, GA. My birthday always falls during the long weekend celebration of his birth. I devoured the biography and watched his “I Have a Dream Speech” for the first time and it was then that I knew, I wanted my life to be about making the world a better place in any small way that I could. I was in Girl Scouts, I recycled, I volunteered at our church’s food bank ministry. I befriended the kids nobody else would talk to and stood up for anyone I saw being bullied or teased (and took hell for it, believe me I was not a popular kid). In undergrad, I didn’t join a sorority based on who had the hottest line jackets or the coolest strolls, I chose the one that gave precedence to community service above all the frivolity.

My dad has always teased me because as a child, every month I wanted a different career. First was civil rights activist, but since most of the causes needing protests had already been won that wasn’t very viable. I wanted to be a preacher, teacher, writer, international businesswoman, translator, lawyer, dentist, librarian, museum docent, professor, poet. . . . you name it, I wanted to be it. Choosing a major was hard for me and I decided on history in my sophomore eyar because I enjoyed it, and because it offered the largest number of free electives of any major at my school. I took classes in Spanish, economics, public policy, constitutional law, orchestra, jazz history, architecture, and loved it all.

Then came senior year. Much as I loved college, I saw no point in artificially extending my undergrad career and I wanted to go to grad school of some sort anyway. So I picked law school because I had some genuine interest in it, my dad went, and it was a credential that would open doors to many career paths. Sure, I could have gotten my teacher certification and gone into education then. But my sister was already a teacher, and I’d always gotten the sense that people just expected more out of me. They wanted me to argue in front of the Supreme Court, or run for President, or write a bestseller. I stopped saying I wanted to be a teacher or professor a long time ago because people would stare at me, seemingly confused, and say “Really? But you could do so much more.” Or, “I guess, but you could make more money doing XYZ.” Being considered the “genius” of the family, I knew everyone not-so-secretly expected me to be the one to make it big and become rich and/or famous somehow. How could I not, being so brilliant? Why hide that light under the bushel of the blighted public school system?

Thus, by the time I decided what to do after college, teaching had been relegated to a back-up plan. A last resort if all else failed. Even if I didn’t practice in a big law firm, surely I could get on with a non-profit and take the system down from the inside! Now don’t get me wrong, that idea was (and still is) very appealing to me. But it also feels fake somehow. As much as I want to be in Washington, lobbying for reproductive rights/education reform/health care reform, etc, learning about law has shown me that it is a very gradual vehicle for change. And the top down approach is a myth because it only occurs when there is massive pressure from the bottom up! Segregation didn’t get prohibited because SCOTUS thought it was the right thing to do. Plessy v. Ferguson makes some very strong Constitutional arguments in favor of “separate but equal”. Segregation got prohibited because the social unrest resulting from it was endangering the health of our nation as a whole. Believe me, if black folks hadn’t gotten sick and tired of being the proverbial dirt on the bottom of the white man’s shoe (and racist white folks hadn’t resorted to violence to keep us in our place) we’d still be drinking from separate water fountains.

The law has only ever created massive change when people have pushed it to do so. And almost every notable person has had a teacher or philosopher who inspired them to strive for greatness, and beauty, and justice. Somewhere along the way, someone planted a seed in them which said things don’t always have to be this way. I had one such teacher myself, and he is the reason why I have never completely given up on being a teacher. He didn’t just teach history, he taught life. Although we all passed the AP US History test and got through the entire text, we read plenty of outside material too. “History is written by the winners,” he told us. “Don’t ever take what you read for granted. Remember that the Constitution was written by rich white property owners–that perspective is still shaping the laws of our country.” He lifted the veil, so to speak. Suddenly, Hitler wasn’t just some evil bogeyman–he was an insecure but deeply manipulative man who practically brainwashed an entire country. That’s what I want to give to the world–curiosity, critical thinking, and the bravery to ask questions.

 

Tell me how you really feel

Due to some snafus when I first started blogging, I’ve learned not to be too personal in what I write about my relationships. A bump in the road can easily get blown out of proportion when people read too far in between the lines. Conflict in life is unavoidable, but confrontation usually isn’t. I choose to walk away from situations where I think that levelheaded discussion is not possible. I don’t bring a lot of problems to my friends because with the ones who have known me the longest, it’s usually insignificant in the grand scheme of things. Maya and I are complete opposites in a lot of ways, so when we disagree we really disagree. But the other 90% of the time we’re thick as thieves. We both have hot tempers when provoked and smart mouths ALL the time, so we can say things about each other that nobody else can.* We’ve been tight long enough to be like family in that regard. It would be the same  with Sunny, but she’s super chill and we always agree to disagree before things get out of hand.

But when you’re dealing with newer friends it’s harder to figure out what to do. I’m an old soul and I struggle to maintain connections with girls my own age. Guys are easy–they operate off logic rather than emotion, and I’ve always prided myself on my ability to balance my empathy and sensitivity with a cool head. There are very few situations where I react emotionally first, without thinking through things rationally, that often makes me seem aloof or uncaring. When petty sh*t goes down I don’t take sides if I’ve only heard one person’s version of the story because nobody is ever completely blameless in situations that end in drama.

In addition, I have a problem with the way women conduct disagreements. I don’t do passive aggressive–if it’s that big of a deal, I’ll come to you with it so you can try to fix it before I cut you off. That’s why I don’t get it when people don’t extend me the same courtesy. I have a rather large antisocial streak and I hate dealing with what I perceive as immaturity, so if you start ignoring me in hopes that it will provoke a reaction? We just won’t talk again. I don’t like it, because in my heart of hearts I want the whole world holding hands and singing “Kumbaya”. But I’ve been through enough discussions turned “let’s hash out everything I hate about you” sessions to learn that friendship interventions work 0.5 times out of 10. So now, my strategy is to just shut up, wait it out, and see if the adverse party comes around.

Luckily, I’ve found a trio of friends in law school–Olivia, Jaleesa, and Khadijah–who get me and keep me sane when I’m not around my beloved Sunny and Maya. Class starts on Monday and while I’m not at all excited to be cracking open the casebooks again, I’m looking forward to another year of silly lunches, inside jokes and stealth Google chatting!

*At least, not without incurring the risk of getting cursed out, swung on, or completely ignored in perpetuity and we’ve come pretty close to that before, come to think of it. Ha!

 

No pain, no gain

Weight has been a lifelong struggle for me. Some may argue that I’m just “thick” or “big boned”, since I’ve never been overweight to the point that I couldn’t see my toes, climb stairs, shop in regular stores, etc. My size has never stopped me from doing anything other than wearing a bikini. But from a young age I was aware that I was chubby, and that chubby wasn’t desirable.

I’ve never been into diets, either. I love food and cooking so living off of carrots and air wasn’t an option. At the same time, I’m not particularly good at any sports and I hate sweating. So generally, I just lived with the fact that I was chubby. I went down two sizes and kept it off between the ages of 17 and 20, but then the demands of school, my sorority, and a part time job led to me gaining all of it back in about 18 months–a long enough period of time that I didn’t notice it. The past two years I have leveled off, and always said I was going to lose weight but never did it.

Weight loss is hard. And emotional. And the fact is that it’s easier to glance in the mirror and keep it moving rather than grapple with all the reasons why you don’t want to lose weight. I’d rather not lay all my reasons bare, but Jess’s numerous posts on the topic of weight loss, body image, and the emotions behind it–along with the blog A Black Girl’s Guide to Weight Loss–have opened my mind to the barriers I put in my own way. I’ve finally taken the first step, which is to stop feeling guilty. Anyone who’s not skinny always gets the message that you’re just not trying hard enough to lose the weight, that you don’t want it bad enough. Stop drinking soda, take the stairs instead of the elevator and you’ll be thin in no time, right? WRONG. Like everything else in life, weight loss starts in the mind. And if you do all the right things thinking that you’re doomed to fail, eventually you’re going to give up and thus author your own failure.

Finally, it clicks. It’s not about being skinny or looking better than the next girl. It’s about being the best ME I can be, and giving my body the same attention as my heart, mind and spirit. I chose a guy who makes me laugh and not cry, I read, and I pray. So why wouldn’t I do the things that allow my body to perform optimally?

 

One Size Fits All doesn’t apply to friendships

For about a year now I’ve felt like I’m outgrowing several of my associates in some aspects. They’re all funny, smart, entertaining girls but sometimes the drama factor gets to be too much. It seems as if they’re still trying to find themselves and going through the associated growing pains, while I’m not. They like to party, and I don’t.

But even besides that, they’re fun to hang with and I feel like I kind of get left out of things…Yes, it’s true that I like to spend time with Tex, and I don’t drink or like sushi. I refuse to go to clubs and will turn down impromptu shopping trips (I don’t work as much as they do so I’m on a tighter budget). Still, I’m down to socialize at happy hour, most sushi restaurants serve cooked food,  and I won’t turn down an invite to chill with Tex (unless it’s last minute and we’re already hanging out). It makes me wonder if we’re really cool like that, or just casual acquaintances?

However, I’ve come to realize that my problem is that I want them all to be “all purpose friends”–someone who I can confide in and borrow $20 from when I need it most, but who is also fun to kick it with. Somebody who’s down for a girl’s day out at the mall, but can switch gears from boy problems to career goals without skipping a beat. The fact is that those friends are RARE. A lucky few of us possess one or even several. But usually, the people you go clubbing with are not necessarily the people you’d call if your car broke down on the highway and vice-versa. The reality is that we have different friends for different purposes in our lives.

Upon reflection though, the situation isn’t as dire as it may seem. Tex and I are best friends, in addition to being SOs. My sister and I have always been close; we talk on the phone every day and have regular appointments for “sister time”. And Porsche can be counted on to call or text me whenever I go MIA for too long. So although my social calendar may not always be full, it’s fulfilling for the most part. I won’t judge anyone else until we see who’s left standing a year from now…

 

Nothing Everything

“Rows of boys and girls run out to seek the world. Candy coated promise, just out of reach when you want it. Give me something sweet, bring me to the brink. I’ll leave without hesitation, to a world without limitation–rock me patient, slowly….Don’t say you’re not amazed when you know you are. And don’t say you’re not afraid when you know you are…”- Mandy Moore, Merrimack River

Walking around campus over spring break, I felt bittersweet thinking about my impending graduation. I’ve spent my whole college career trying to figure out what I wanted to do afterwards…and now that it’s finally here I find myself looking back.

I used to be so naive. I knew it too, but of course the main stipulation of such a state is that you never know how innocent you really are until your illusions are shattered. Cliche as it is, my first love broke my heart but I’m glad that even then, I knew that my life would go on. In the words of Khalil Gibran, “Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding. It is the bitter potion by which the physician within you heals your sick self. Therefore, trust the physician and drink his remedy in silence and tranquility.” I don’t know how tranquil I was, but I did drink the remedy…and when I put the bottle down, there was someone waiting to take me home.

That’s just the tip of the iceberg, though. This school pushed my mind to limits I didn’t know it could achieve. I never would have thought that I’d understand derivatives and integrals, or read at least 5 different textbooks a semester and retain enough information come exam time to maintain a 3.0 GPA. I went Greek, and while my experience wasn’t ideal I’m still glad I did it. I lost the first friends I ever made at college, but made more than enough new ones to make up for it. I came to the edge of a nervous breakdown–and almost transferred schools because of it. But I looked over the edge and backed the f*ck up (lol!).

Lately I’ve been thinking that my life hasn’t quite followed the script I wrote four years ago, in ways both good and bad. I thought I’d be in another state getting an Master’s, but instead I’ll be working on my J.D. in Townville. I thought I’d be single, but I’m in a serious relationship.  Life has moved so fast and yet so slowly…I’ll cop to a bit of wedding fever, wanting the official engagement to come quickly so Tex and I could start our lives together already.

But then I realized, we’re already living it. In three years from now when I’m 25 we’ll definitely be married…and working, and paying a mortgage. When I’m 29 we’ll have been together for a whole decade and probably thinking about starting on those two or three kids we want. In ten years I’m sure we’ll have a baby. So why not enjoy being “just” boyfriend and girlfriend?

I also see how wrong I was in thinking that being a whole hour apart was such a tragedy. Since my school is so big, I’ve insulated myself with the 20 0r so folks I feel at home with, and yet I can go days without seeing more than five of them. Orange Law is comprised of about 600 students (200 per incoming class), so I definitely won’t have the option of being anonymous. Everyone I talked to there said that the people are the best part, and that everybody is pretty much friends with everybody else. Private school showed me that I tend to be a lot more popular in small groups, so I know the small environment will probably calm my nerves enough for me to socialize. And since I won’t be spending weekday evenings with Tex, I’ll have plenty of time to study, cook dinner at home, and work out (Get Right, Get Tight 2010 in full effect! lol).

I also spend any significant free time I have with Tex, and as much as I genuinely love spending time with him I know he’s been a convenient shield for me to hide behind. I know he enjoys having me around too, as he hasn’t complained (and please believe, he’s not shy about complaining when something doesn’t suit him). But in my last relationship I pretty much lived to please HWSRN. Tex is the complete opposite and caters to my needs, but I need to be on my own a little bit so that I can find a balance between being a servant and a trophy. Otherwise, how will I be able to hold on to my identity after I’m a wife and mother?

I guess that’s as good a place as any to wrap up. This has been a post of epic length anyway so if I don’t write anything for the next several days don’t hold it against me!

 

New Year’s Revolution

Hopefully y’all haven’t forgotten about me. I’ve just been so thoroughly enjoying 10 hours of sleep per night and quality time with Mr. Man (with no interruptions from class or homework!) that I’ve been slacking. But school starts next Monday so I’ll be on a regular posting schedule again soon.

I’ve been to church three times in 8 days and it wore me out. Mr. Man goes to one of those big churches with contemporary service (I swear if I hear Mary Mary’s “God in Me” one more time I will SCREAM).  I’m used to small churches with older congregations who sing out of the hymnal or the Songs of Zion negro spiritual songbook, so the concert atmosphere was a little overwhelming. Still, I did get something out of it and I do feel spiritually refreshed. The sermon that really touched me was about letting go and forgiving yourself. While I know that I’m not a bad person, I tend to beat myself up for the mistakes and bad decisions I have made. It doesn’t matter if nobody was hurt, or if the person who was hurt has forgiven me, I still feel guilty about it. But that’s counterproductive. I know I worry too much but I’m finally ready to turn over a new leaf. Bad things will happen to me in my life, and it can’t be helped. As the saying goes, “into each life a little rain must fall.” But I shouldn’t stop myself from enjoying all the good things just because they may not be around forever. I’m ready to tackle 2010 and beyond with renewed zeal.

Of course, I have to do the obligatory New Year’s resolution bit. But I’m putting a little spin on it. So many people make resolutions and break them. I want to really make some lasting changes in my life, so my resolutions are all things that I want to accomplish over the next five years. Here they are, in no particular order:

-Graduate from college.

-Visit a state outside of the South.

-Get to my “happy” weight and maintain it  through sensible means.

-Make exercise a part of my lifestyle by working out at least 3 times a week, for at least 3o minutes each session.

-Get married (!)

-Visit another country

-Grow my hair down to my shoulder blades (yes, I’m a little vain. don’t judge me)

-Become financially independent.

-Find a church home and attend regularly.

-Learn how to cook at least 10 new dishes for breakfast, lunch, dinner and dessert.

-Go on a cruise.

How was your holiday season? What are your New Year’s resolutions?

 

Senior Year Reflections

Weeeellll, I still have one more final to go and I need to be studying. But since I’ve been locked in my room studying for the better part of the last 10 hours, I am taking a break to watch Glee and try to reclaim some semblance of sanity. At any rate, I was wasting some time on Facebook and decided to check out the profiles of some friends and acquaintances I hadn’t seen or heard from in a while. Not everybody is popping out babies; some people are actually doing quite well for themselves. One of my former Girl Scout troop members is studying broadcast journalism at Howard and has interned with PBS and WSBTV. Another girl, who took piano lessons from my mom, is trying to launch her music career. I have another girlfriend who is almost annoyingly put together–she has bomb ass grades and somehow manages to look like she just stepped off set from a photo shoot. One of my old neighbors, who’s like a little brother to me, just finished his first semester at college and is bubbling with excitement over choosing a major in film. Then there are several others who just seem to be lucky citizens of the world–they’re always taking trips to exotic places and no matter what, they’re always involved in something hugely fun.

It’s times like these that make me wonder if I’m doing enough. Being poised to close a chapter in your life always makes one thoughtful, especially someone like me who practically lives inside her head. Should I have joined another club? Done a music minor? Picked a different major? Gone to more parties? Objectively speaking I’ve done a fair amount with my college career- pledged a sorority, worked 2 internships, taken on leadership positions in various activities, gone to football games, taken spring break trips with my friends. But so many other people seem to have it all figured out. I know that to most other people, I look like I have it all together with not a care in the world, but the truth is that I’m terribly critical of myself and am nagged with insecurity more often then not. It’s just that I’d rather die than give people the impression that sometimes I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m just doing the best I can with what I’ve got.

That, in the end, is what saves me from endless bouts of self-pity and envy. Everyone is blessed with different talents, and everyone has their own path to walk. So what does it profit me to wish I had someone else’s blessings? All of these people have their own problems too, even if they aren’t discernible from their Facebook profiles. At the end of the day, I’m only 21 years old and I’ve got my whole life ahead of me. That’s a lot of time to work on making my dreams come true.

 

Black Love & War Vol. 3: Trust

One of the biggest problems facing relationships (black, white and other) is trust.

Trust is an essential component in any type of relationship–familial, friendly or romantic. And when you don’t trust someone that you’re supposed to be close to, you create a divide that can become irreparable. On the other hand, some people trust too much and too easily, and wind up getting continuously disappointed until they become bitter and close themselves off from the world, fearful of getting hurt once more. Often times they end up lashing out at those who express concern, because they are afraid of getting taken advantage of. In either scenario, you end up missing out on a lot of good things, because you never know who might end up being a blessing to you.

I try not to dwell on past mistakes, but I believe talking about my ex right now would be appropriate because it provides a teachable moment. We started dating the summer before my sophomore year and for about six weeks everything was perfect. He was very gentlemanly, we talked on the phone every day and saw each other at least twice a week. Having never been with someone who lavished his time, attention and money on me in such a generous way I was swept off my feet. That is, until he stood me up. We were supposed to go out Friday night but something came up with his family and I was hanging with my girlfriends Saturday night, so we settled on Sunday evening. Sunday morning I called him and got his voicemail. Sunday afternoon I sent him a text message. Nothing. Strike one!

I was crushed. Things had been going great, so what happened? A month later I couldn’t take it anymore and I dialed his number. At the very least, I felt I was owed an explanation. I should have left it at that but I was 19, naive, and I’d never liked anybody as much as I liked him so I accepted his lame apology/excuse (“I really thought I called you. And when I realized I didn’t, I was afraid you would be mad and curse me out and not talk to me again anyway.” So send me an email and apologize. Negro please! But I digress) and we picked up where we left off. Eventually we had the relationship talk- I don’t date casually, and we spent far too much time together for me to be content without the title of “girlfriend”. But he seemed to have some aversion to the title. Thinking that I was compromising, I said that it didn’t matter what we called it as long as we both wanted to be exclusive. He agreed, and things went along as normal. Mind you, he did everything that a boyfriend would do–we went on dates, had met each other’s friends and parents, drove me to work or the store or the hairdresser when I needed to go. Then he had a one night stand with his ex-girlfriend. Strike two!

Yet and still, I was willing to forgive him and we gave it one last try. One evening he left his phone in my room. Now, normally he a password on it but this time it was unlocked. We had just had another relationship talk and even though he said all the right things, something felt off. So I gave in and checked his text messages, which confirmed my worst fear. The next day when I returned the phone I asked him if he was seeing somebody else, and he finally confessed. I cared about him so much that I would have taken him back, but only on the condition that he broke up with her immediately and never talked to her again. He claimed to be in love with us both and unable to choose. Strike three! So I chose for him.

Now, I know that you’re probably wondering why in the hell I would give this dude so many chances. First of all, I’m a very forgiving person by nature. We were young and weren’t married, so I really expected to have to deal with him having some sort of indiscretion, especially since he was more experienced than I was. Second,  I grew up in a traditional two parent home and my mom always told me that in a relationship it is important to compromise. Being young and unseasoned, I didn’t fully understand that compromise didn’t mean that I had to always ignore the things he did wrong. Third, he didn’t fit my picture of the typical bad boy. HWSRN was, frankly, a nerd. Furthermore, he did and said all the right things to keep my suspicions at bay so for the longest time I thought I was just being insecure. Thankfully he’s out of my life for good now and I learned a lot from that situation.

There’s a quote I love that’s attributed to Maya Angelou which goes,”When someone tells you who they are, listen to them.” This exactly what I didn’t do. When he stood me up and didn’t so much as text message an apology, he showed that he was immature, unready for a relationship, and therefore not worthy of my trust. But I didn’t listen because he looked like what I wanted, so I got my feelings hurt. Trust is certainly something that should be earned, but above all you should hone your intuition. Everyone has it, but it’s a use it or lose kind of gift and so many of us suppress it because the things that are bad for us can look very tempting. There’s a middle ground between being a cynic and being a fool, and until we find we will continue to have trust issues.

This is a nice lengthy post so I’ll stop there and yield the floor to my thoughtful readers. What say you?

 

 

 

97%: When the odds turn against you

Note: I realize that I posted this a few weeks ago under the title “The Road Not Taken”, but I have more to say so bear with me!

“There but for the grace of God go I.”- John Bradford

In three months I’ll be 22 years old. It’s kinda scary, honestly. I feel so….adult, all of a sudden. I’m just getting used to being 21 years old, it can’t possibly be time for another year to get tacked on! Of course, I’m thankful that I’ve made it this far and I’m well on my way to accomplishing some of my life goals. While perusing Facebook this morning I discovered that yet another high school friend of mine was pregnant. I didn’t even know what to say. She was one of my best friends back then. We were both in the orchestra, on the honor roll, had overprotective mothers and couldn’t wait to go to college. She wanted to be a doctor, and she majored in biology. She was supposed to graduate in the spring, like me, but her baby is due any day now and I just wonder– what will happen to her? With her plans interrupted so close to the finish line, will she even get to finish college? Is the baby’s father going to help her raise the child? Will she ever make it to medical school? Of course, she could be giving it up for adoption but that’s still a burden to carry. You can find anybody now, so it’s almost a given that someday she will have to explain to her child why she thought it was better to give him/her away. She’s such a lovely girl and really smart, and I just never thought she would end up in this situation…

Just a bit of comic relief.

Now, let me say I don’t want to seem like I’m judging her. We have all been irresponsible before, it  just usually doesn’t have consequences this dire. Fortunately for me, I’ve made very few mistakes that couldn’t be easily rectified. Over the past few years a lot of folks have failed/dropped out of school, and a few girls have gotten pregnant. But this isn’t somebody I’m casually acquainted with, this is someone who I went on double dates with, passed notes to in class, and had over for sleepovers. In a lot of ways, this girl could have been me! And that’s what really freaks me out. If I had made just one bad decision, or been in that unlucky 1-3%, my life could be TOTALLY different. It just makes me wonder, what other bullets have I dodged?

One thing I know for sure is that I’m grateful to have made it this far relatively unscathed. But I wonder, what if it did happen to me? What would I do? There was a time when I would have gone running to the nearest clinic to get it taken care of, but now I’m not so sure. Disclaimer: I do NOT want a child at this point in my life, and I am not trying to have one, so don’t panic! This is a philosophical exercise only. Anyway, now that I’m almost done with college, I don’t have an excuse for saying that it would interrupt my education. Law school can be deferred a year, and there are part-time programs. Even so, I could find a job with decent wages with my Bachelor’s degree; I have great references and I’ve always been a hard worker. I’ve been with my boyfriend for almost 2 years now, and he’s already told me he’d be there for me if that were to happen. In another year he’ll be done with college too. In her blog, Kit has written several times about pregnancy and abortion. She says “Babies rarely come at a convenient time, even for married folks” and that abortions are an exercise in selfishness. Having gone through an abortion that ultimately rendered her infertile, I’m not inclined to take her words lightly as she isn’t some crazy anti-abortion fanatic, as is clearly evidenced by her story.

I suppose it all has to do with where you are in life. I’m well on my way to full adulthood and nearly done with school; as little as 2 years ago I was much more naive. I would have felt unbearable shame at being so silly as to let myself get pregnant, and terrified by the changes a baby would make in my life.  Most of all, I would be thinking about how I was supposed to finish school and be a mother at the same time. Now things are just…different. If I hadn’t decided to go to law school, I’d be looking for a job and preparing to live on my own. I know how to apply for food stamps or unemployment assistance if I really needed it. One of my cousins had a baby when she was 22 and they’re not out on the street so it can be done. Not to say that any of this would be easy, but if I had an abortion at this point in my life my reasons would boil down to “I just didn’t feel like having a kid.” And I don’t think that’s something I could live with.

Still, even after arguing Roe v. Wade in class and finding out that there is much stronger legal support for prohibiting abortion than allowing it, I am still pro-choice. I don’t think any woman should be forced to have a baby she does not want. Abortion shouldn’t be used as birth control, and I would support a lifetime limit because there are a few women out there who are just careless. But I refuse to believe that the vast majority of women who get abortions do so lightly, especially considering that 1 in 3 women will have one during her lifetime (according to Planned Parenthood). And what about the women who get pregnant as a result of rape or molestation? There are some women who could bear it, but for many that would be just as traumatic, if not more traumatic, than the actual act of violation. Raising a baby who has the face of your rapist? Creepy.

I don’t know. I just wish there was more open dialogue about safe sex, and the consequences of unsafe sex, because it’s ridiculous to expect people to abstain until marriage. (Most of the people who tout that ideal weren’t virgins when they got married, so who are they to impose such restrictions on the free world?) Successful single mothers are finally getting their due, but  nobody talks about what makes a woman get an abortion or how it made her feel afterwards. If we had more conversations like that, I think young women and men would be more responsible. Or maybe not. How do you feel abortion and unwanted pregnancy? If you’re a woman and yo u got pregnant today, would you keep it? If you’re a man and your girlfriend got pregnant, would you want her to keep it or abort? Feel free to comment even if you don’t want to specifically answer those questions.