The beginning of the unraveling.
While working on a project at a place called Switchyards, a co-working space.
I have to call a younger sibling and relative tomorrow. Saying this to myself now. I get scared because of the failure I constantly feel in myself. And that includes the inheritance of not rising to the fullest height as a girl. A woman.
You know.
So I write it here so it can hopefully become bigger than my lack of belief.
What I want to say is the beginning of the end of the beginning to the middle, so the start of the unraveling of my mother’s health, which is actually toward the end since her diagnosis was late, caught late.
I remember I was at a place called Switchyards in Atlanta. How was I there? Did it require a fee? I honestly forget. I would work at Georgia Perimeter College as a Writing Tutor — when I should have actually been in the Math lab tutoring people instead or also. Again, my girl inheritance. Girls don’t do math, right?
Messaging that I think subconsciously I have picked up on I think within Nigerian and African American programming, my specific experiences but I think culturally too.
Girl wound. Lack of belief.
Thank you for the honesty.
So I had started a failed writing business which is more articles another day. And I had a project that I had gotten that I would work on when I wasn’t working part-time at GPC (short for “Georgia Perimeter College”).
I was doing this project at the co-working space Switchyards when I got a call from my older sister saying that my mom’s health was in serious condition and that I had to get to Los Angeles now.
My mother had moved to California.
So let’s stop here.
It hurts this feeling.
Plus I need to get back from my meal break.
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