People Are Hypocrites

Part 1: Perfectly Whole

False Appearances

When I was in school, I was a good writer.

Even better reader. I tore through books like they were my first and last meal,

but I fucking hated poetry. I would rip up poetry assignments and hand them back to my teachers,

enjoying the shock on their faces as their usually good student took a stand to stubbornly protest Poe, Dickens, even silly Shel Silverstein wouldn't do it for me.

When I became an English teacher, I told my students that I hated poetry, but that the skills to unlock its meaning were necessary for getting to the next grade.

(They aren't necessary for getting to the next grade.) But they are necessary.

One day, I was finally checked by a scrawny, quiet, 12 year old who asked me,

"Is poetry music? Or is music poetry?"

They left no room for disconnect. I was forced to see they were one in the same.

The lyrics I loved so much were just poems plus a beat. It really was simple to understand, but yet I spent years making it difficult.

I guess some people turn a blind eye to what they don't want to see.

Now, I don't just like poetry, I love poetry.

Love to teach it, love to read it, love to write it - all because of a kid who was capable of making the connection.

What you should learn from this?

Look at things in different lights.

Oh, and people are fucking hypocrites. Even me.

What's in a name?

I entered this world on the first day of April, 1994.

Effie Nicole Blakely. 6 pounds, 13 ounces, and a whole lot of screaming.

I guess that's why my entire life is symbolically a joke.

My mother was actually going to name me Lucy, but when I came out, she tells me I didn't "look like a Lucy" and boom, new name for me.

I thought growing up this story meant that big life decisions aren't really that important.

That names aren't that important, change is easy, and nothing needs to be committed to.

Because if your parent can change your actual name in seconds, certainly I can live my life changing my mind?

I wonder what I would have been like as a Lucy.

Jokes on Me

Every birthday I would get pranks instead of presents,

which in hindsight was good for my character, or soul, or whatever it is that is inside of me.

It always taught me to never get my hopes up too high.

Because every year that I thought the box was heavy with a present

and opened it only to find rocks, I knew that there had to be other things in life that were going

to let me down worse than a box full of rocks.

Happiest Day of My Life

The thing about being pregnant, is that everyone feels like they have a say.

Some old wives' tale to determine the gender early, not caring if I don't want to know.

My sister says I absolutely have to join the Facebook group she's a part of for New Mommies.

She found out she was pregnant in the bathroom of her own house, after months of trying.

I found out in a Target bathroom by myself, after giving up on the thought of having kids.

We aren't the same.

Maybe the book will be good for her baby, because it wasn't created in chaos.

but mine was. You were.

Can someone direct me to the book for that?

Sperm Donor

The thing about not having a dad

Especially a little girl without a dad

Is that everyone tries to "step up"

Friends' dads will hoist you onto their shoulders, so that you can see the fireworks, too

Uncles will offer to take you to daddy/daughter dances

And all of that is nice, and should fill your heart with warmth

But really, all it does is piss me off

Made me hyper-aware to the fact that people thought I was lacking something

Missing something, incomplete, a coloring page without color.

I knew I was perfectly complete, my mom taught me from a young age

I didn't need a man to be whole,

not even the one who helped create me

Boy Crazy

From as young as I can remember, I've been called 'boy crazy' by every

adult woman who misunderstood my fascination with boys for attraction

You see, I grew up in a house of all women

Grand mom's husband died before I was born

Mom said her whole world was me

So boys were like a whole different species to me.

I just wanted to know what they were about, and why they got to act out more in class,

talk louder, burp without saying excuse me

But even at age 10, people mistook that for being promiscuous

Wanting too much, too soon

Not a Girl, Not yet a Woman

I got my period when I was nine years old

On Thanksgiving day

Yet another reminder from the universe that holidays are not my thing

I was in fourth grade, but the 'changes' talk in school came in fifth grade

Thankfully, my mom prepared me well

Showed me everything to expect, told me this was a sign of becoming a woman

But when I went to the bathroom, wiped, and saw streaks of red on the toiler paper

I expected to feel something, anything

But I just felt empty

That's when I learned becoming a woman is learning how to be okay with feeling pain