Good morning, I hate to be repetitive, but I realize that in some circumstances I am not able to help it. As you all know everyday I worry about what I will write as a post on this blog, and as much as there are many topics which can be discussed and written about daily, I worry because almost every story here on this blog site is about my personal experiences and therefore the truth. Not the truth embellished, just simply the truth, and a part of my worry is in waking up those memories that I have since laid to rest in my mind, not wanting to re-visit them. I must say that often times when I read the posts and see my life in black and white on the computer screen, I become a little embarrassed about some of my naivety, but then I calm myself in the realization that maybe naivety was or is not such a bad thing, as I believe I still am. Naivety is the trait of my astrological sign Aries. We are strong, dominant, sure, confident people, kind, loving and caring. We are leaders and go- getters, but naive is a flaw within our character as Aries people, and it is very present in me. Does that make me vulnerable, yes it does, weak? absolutely not.
I have tried to move away from this description of myself and but it is There , innate, apart of my core make up and therefore since I know this I must be more aware and pay attention. I easily trust. There I have said it. I easily trust! In times gone by, I trusted people more, as I grew, it took me some time, but I have wizened up a bit. Although I know that there are some beasts out there, Wolves, disguised in human flesh who walks among us, I cannot help holding onto the fact that not everyone out there is bad. Yet I am the one to drill into my children and other people minds that three quarter of the people who lives in this realm with us are no good. I think about things like these late at nights when the world around me have gone quiet. I sit in the dark during these times, with a candle dimly lit in my room, laid back against my pillows, legs crossed as I go off into oblivion and think of the world and all its inhabitants and some of the bad people that I have met, and I realize that while I may not have met all the worlds population, I have met some very heartless, cold, wicked people, more-so than good ones and often disguised.
After pondering on this for a while, I tried to figure out how to meet GOOD people and avoid the bad ones ( naivety at work again), so when I go to my shrine to pray, which I do every day, I would lay flat on my belly in front of my Ifa (ee-fah) and before my wonderful Obara Meji and pray for me to just meet good people. I begged them to let the bad ones pass me by, just send on the good ones. I would pray this prayer also for my children and while I prayed, I begged Ifa and Obara Meji to let me be a good person to other people and never a hindrance or be of any harm to anyone. I pray this earnestly everyday, having been scorned, and beaten down mentally by people who I cared for and trusted in the past. I imagine that my Orishas may laugh silently at my naivety of praying to them for only sending “Good” people to me, because that is just impossible. I know it and they know it. My prayer should be “If and when I or my children meet people with bad intentions, please give me the sight to recognize them and the wisdom in how to deal with them, and also the ability see their true intentions swiftly”.
Yesterday I thought back to my first daughters father, the one who knocked me up when I was a teenager. He was much older that I and had just come from Jamaica. I have always written about the Wicked baby father here on Embracing Spirituality, but never about this one. I at first never looked at him as a boyfriend type, because when I met him he was just a nice guy who moved into our building on the first floor while we lived on the Second. My mother had known his mother in Jamaica when they both worked together at The University Hospital Of The West Indies. The woman had come to America and lived with a daughter whom she had not seen since the daughter was five years old. Apparently the daughters father had taken the child to grow her up in the Sates at that age, so mother and daughter were not accustomed to each other. The daughter had sent for the mother and upon arrival, after living together for two weeks the daughter told the mother to get out! Everybody who comes to America to live has a story to tell. The woman had gotten my mothers number and called her and as usual my mother allowed her to stay with us and after a while got her a one bedroom apartment on the first floor in our building and then in about a year her two grown sons arrived. The living room was turned into a bed room for them. When he came to live in the building, this was during the time when my mother would drive me out of the house to go and meet friends instead of staying inside and reading everyday. She told me that I was not normal, no other children would stay inside rather than go out and play with friends, she made it seem as if I were odd, and it began to worry me, maybe I was odd, read An Eye Opener if you read this post it explains somethings not written here. I began to sit on the stoop in front of the building, and this is how I began to have conversations with this guy. As I have said before, I was not looking for a boyfriend, I thought I was too young and I had no interest in boys, I loved books, they were my world, I would read all and everything even a match box, but in the evenings when I came home from school and after doing my chores, I would reluctantly go outside because Mama wanted me to be ‘normal‘ and have friends. She nor I had no idea that outside laid the Big Bad Wolf with a spliff tail hanging from the side of his mouth, and I was to find out what Big Mouth he had! (read keenly).
We became friends, he was nice, he never approached me at first, in the way of a man wanting a woman. He became my friend. He listened, and he gave good advice, I liked him, because he would look out for me when I came down stairs and often times he suggested we go for a walk. He was new to America, already in his twenties and missed Jamaica like me, we had that in common, and he would tell me stories of him growing up in the ghetto and of fights and running from the police, (all lies I later found out) and his stories fascinated me, they were my beloved books come to life. He loved to read also and he introduced me to Donald Goines books, which were a little too dark and dreary for me, but still we shared a passion for books and I liked that. I was happy to walk with him and showed him around the neighborhood as he was new in the country, and while we walked we spoke of many things and I was quick to realize that he was smart. I liked that, but please keep in mind that I had no thought of him being a boyfriend to me in my mind, none what so ever. I never saw him that way, nor any boy as a matter of fact. He started taking pictures of me, every opportunity he got he took my picture, he would buy the disposable cameras and click away at every opportunity, again I thought nothing of it, it was pure fun and it got me feeling comfortable out of the house for I had found a friend.
My mother did not seem to mind, he was her friends son and older than me so she never cautioned me about him and she knew that I had no interest in boys. Little did I know that he was biding his time, little did I know that this was a seduction. I was being seduced and I knew it not! He was never fresh. Once in a while he would ask odd questions about sex, but the questions were generalized, never personal and so I felt comfortable, even if I shifted a little under his gaze, but this was once in a while. He would give me compliments and I thought nothing much of it, he was my friend and could do that, but then he would make me sad when he told me how ugly HE was and how back in Jamaica people would call him so and he knew he was ugly he would say, but he did not see the need for people to continue to remind him of the fact. It made me feel sorry for him, while tapping his back or his hands and telling him that he was not ugly and he mustn’t refer to himself that way. He would tell me that I was the only good friend he ever had, and that he was proud to have someone like me as a friend and the usual pretty girl compliments came, to which I am embarrassed to go into with you here on this post, not wanting to sound vain or other wise, but the slow, methodical seduction continued, and he was to have victory.
Our friendship lasted for a while, and I realized a shift in it when he would come knocking at my door whenever he realized that my mother had a male visitor, It mattered not who the person was, from once he saw a man enter the building, (he lived on the first floor so everyone who came in the building he would know), he would run upstairs and knock at my door and begged me to come out. At first I did not understand why I had to come outside with him whenever a man came, he made it seem as if he just wanted my company, but after a while I saw the pattern, and although it was frustrating, I went with him. He was always complaining of rejection and that of the two brothers he was the ugly one, and that his mother’s favorite was the other brother, so I thought to reject him would add to his already beaten down self esteem and so I always tried to be there for him, as he was always there for me. He began coming to my school. After school was over I would come out to see him waiting for me to walk me home. I was embarrassed by this, because I had now realized that his interest in me was more than a friend, and I did not like it. I did not like him that way. He knew what he was doing, unfortunately I caught on late, but I had and still do have a very soft heart and a compassionate nature and he played on it. In some ways we had a lot in common. He felt rejected by his family, unwanted to some degree and so did I. He had no friends but me, and I had no friend but him, we enjoyed nature and would often times go walking in the botanical gardens together. He listened, and at that time in my life I needed to talk, I needed to be listened to. I needed some one to be silent and listen to me.
Unfortunately for me, he understood life and how to use manipulation in getting what he wanted, and he wanted me. I knew it not, but he wanted me and he meant to have me. He knew that I was an innocent and so he groomed me and was patient. He played on my emotions and good nature and he waited and waited, and injected now and again salacious conversations, and watched my reactions, when I became uncomfortable with any suggestions of his in this way, which he always generalized, he would apologize and tell me that he just wanted to understand how people in America operated as oppose to what we in Jamaica agreed with. Read keenly, try to understand what I am saying without me writing it here!..He got me! Once! I got pregnant, and was done with him but then stalking began, it was to be a long time to get rid of him, a very long time.
We cannot escape these wolves they are out there, whether you be man or woman they are there. At some point you will meet them, when this time comes, you be the Fox. Use you wit to get pass them. Invoke into your being the wiles of the ever cunning Fox, and if you are able to do this, then you may be able to get by unharmed or unscratched. In life use your head, let it work for you. Listen to yourself, believe your spirits, your guides. Parents take care of your children, let them be, but watch them closely, and listen to them, listen to them, listen to them, also listen to yourself!
I shall gather my bearings and try to write part two to this story which I dredged up last night while lost in thought as I usually do when all is quiet. I cannot regret him at all, nor the the Wicked one, because from them I bore beautiful fruits which I love and adore, and perhaps my seeds had to come through these mis-fits, and as in most cases in life, “The end justifies the means”. He introduced me to life in the most curious of ways. He still lives with his mother in that one bedroom apartment, with the living room as his bedroom. He never moved. His brother has since moved out and have his own family. My daughter grew without him in her life, he was never missed, I made sure of it. I did not want him and he said If he could not have me, he wanted nothing to do with her, that was not a deal breaker for me, suh we cut. We left. Her and I went into the world in love with each other and together. I never asked him for anything neither did he offer. I never bothered with child support for either of these two men. I ventured out into the world her and I, alone but together. I headed off into the direction of only God and my ancestors know, where another wolf awaited for me, unbeknownst to me. When my mother said get out I just held my head up and believed in God and it worked out regardless of all I have been through, it worked out. He too was one of my many teachers, he too played a very major role in my life, he too set me along my path and he left many things with me, not just my daughter but much more, much, much more, lol!…much more!
Agara kì í dá oníṣẹ́ Ọlọ́run. /
God’s messenger never grows weary…Yoruba Proverb!
[God cannot be overwhelmed with man’s needs]
All religions are valid as long as they teach peace and love …Obara Meji!