I, Alien. I, Obinna. 🤟🏿
Accepting my obvious difference from you. Now don’t try to be me now. That’s usually what happens. Someone has the courage to be themselves and other people follow. I don’t mind.
I haven’t written out yet the next set of blog post ideas to blog about. And today I was brave and started to open up from isolation. Isolation is hard because I am alone in my experience and thus it hurts knowing others do not know life like you have. It is hard because it takes courage to be yourself.
The alien I am.
But I guess it is funny because I think of ATLiens from Outkast. But I’m literally an alien.
And today at a meditation I just came back from, a person told me that I don’t sound like I’m from Atlanta. Let me guess? I sound like “a White girl”. You sure a White girl doesn’t sound like me?
And I always say, because I’m not “from” Atlanta. I usually say I “grew up in” Atlanta…I really am like an alien that was just born there in my pod. But really I consider myself from Elsewhere by way of Nigeria as well. I’m not from Atlanta. Being bicultural, my interpretation of it (each of us is different), it’s just not really my spirit to say “from Atlanta”…it is not a full truth. Got damn.
Anyway, God is speaking to me. First She or He led me to my Igbo tribe of people. When someone heard me singing at ze Walmart and invited me to a singing practice at a church. Then another person in dance class today invited me to a meditation, a Juneteenth meditation.
After saying to my dad on Sunday how he disappointed me. It sucks having to look at reality.
Like the types of girls in ballet. Not me. Not aliens like me.
It was hard because I haven’t really been taking dance class and today was a meh day. But I am not judging myself (too much) these classes back, not for a couple of weeks I think.
And if you are a Black girl in ballet, you are usually in certain alignment with the White girl, like one who comes from a solid background usually. Some level of solid, financial stability. Age yes but even so, regardless of being old(er), I am still a minority within a minority, which I observe in interacting with Black people in ballet. So I am out of alignment with the reality of a “Black ballerina” — not a Black girl like me, must be real about this reality. So now God opens doors as I face this truth and let go.
But I need to work on my schedule.
I’m not going to New York to dance. It would be too much stress. Today this is what I was shown via a conversation with someone today. I will leave it at that since it’s a brand new development. Need to let this simmer.
Simi is the artist I am listening to now. (ETA: Nena).
I really like her.
Alien.
It’s who I be. Ahem, am. 🤟🏿
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