How ISIS Changed Christmas

     For the past four days it’s been a constant reminder that my birthday is coming up; which means Christmas is coming up and I will be twenty nine years old. For some, that may seem very young, as if I have the world in front of me; and to others that may seem old – or old enough. I’m in the last year of my twenty’s; the time, where according to Carrie, you make the mistakes. My twenties I feel however; was to learn the lessons. I made all the mistakes in my late teens, early twenties. The concern is, how did I get to, twenty nine and where am I going from here?

     It took me, first off, twenty seven years to figure out I was living for someone else. I was living someone else’s life! Once that was found out, it’s taken some time to figure out this person; Crystal. Life begun all over again, I’m slowing learning things, I should have learned a long time ago. Don’t get me wrong, I have some knowledge of course however; it’s the basic things I never grasped onto. Self-control, discipline, self-respect, courage, love, in-dependency and commitment. The things we learn from our parents and our upbringing.

     1986, December 24^th was a calm, Christmas Eve in America; sure there were things going on however; nothing compared to what is possible this Christmas Eve. As my mother prepared to give birth to this girl, I’m sure she had no idea what she was getting herself into; just as I. She shaped me in her eyes; I was Mary’s daughter for twenty six years and that was all I needed. I feed her ego and she feed my dependency; on her. Two broken people, typically don’t create a whole human. There will always be pieces missing, just as pieces are missing from the creators of that person. What Mary lacked in life, she made sure Crystal had but, everything she yearned and demanded of people was absorbed by Crystal and her other children.

     When Mary, shared her last Christmas with Crystal in 2013; she shattered the image of Christmas and life. Mary passed off this earth, right when Crystal was beginning to question things. When God begin working in Crystal’s life – the life she once knew came to a head and blew up in flames all at the same time. Just as, she begin to understand her past and the relationship between her and her mother, she begin to understand the affects not only of her mother’s actions but, those of her village. The actions of her community, her hometown, her nation and her world. She begin to understand her constant struggle within her own skin. She begin to become, me.

     For years, it was a struggle, to understand why I didn’t like my skin. I’m Black; so black that my “best friend” in high school gave me a nick name called “Black Jesus”. Nothing to do with spirituality, I am Black. For me, that use to be a bad thing. I didn’t want my skin, to be dark – I loved being African-American but, not dark skin. I hated my hair also, I kept a perm in my hair because I couldn’t deal with the curls, “naps”. To add insult to injury I was overweight majority of my teenage and adult life. My world didn’t prepare me for how cruel people and life could be.

 With so much personal adversity, one is to wonder how do you overcome but, as I read and pray and learn - I understand. With God, and excuse me; I do not mean the same thing most, Christians, and other people who practice religion mean. With God you can do all things. I’m learning the struggle my mother had within herself; I’m understanding the hustle of the media, television and entertainment; I’m understanding the hustle of politics, major business, banking and industry and/or capitalism. The demons from the past; the growth that is required to move forward, is a journey – I am pleased to be taking every single day.

     This journey that sort of lead me to the understanding that, I was a racist and still have some of the remnants. Yes, I admitted to being a Black racist. Not just towards, black’s; NO!. I was racist towards, every race; except white. It was undercover however. I did not know I wasn’t racist against them – I didn’t understand that my unconsciousness didn’t allow me to hate the “white man” because internally “he” was still my leader and he didn’t really do anything wrong. I forgave the “white man” for his sins and we now live together happily than ever! I didn’t understand that, because “my leader” hated the “black man” I had to hate him to. I didn’t understand that I, squeezed my purse tighter when I saw black men outside, because the media or “they” want me to believe that the “black man” is a dangerous and violent criminal. I couldn’t understand that “my goal”; to get a “good government job” or to get a job with benefits – wasn’t really a goal at all but, a limit set by my community and upbringing. The journey that brought me to the understanding that racism still exist in my mind, just as so many other’s on the face of the earth.When I heard the names of the two people who committed the crime, in San Bernardino, California; a few days ago and I immediately hated them because their names where Muslim. 

     “My twenties where sort of a blur” I say, as I think, during these last couple days. Many trials and tribulations lead me to this point, to this blog. As I awaken from the darkness that has covered my eyes, my mind, my body and soul for years, I am happy to report. To be witness and to assist other’s in this journey or any journey needed to be successful in their lives. When I figured out that God gave me my words, to evoke change throughout this world; I now understand what I am supposed to do in this world and if this is not the path he wants me on, then I believe he will show me something different. By the time, I figured this out I was one year away from thirty. My last year of my twenties is upon me and I am freaking out a little. The challenge to make a difference is one I gladly accept, however my God has not made this transition or job easy to complete. Let alone move forward along the journey. As I push forward I had to share my understanding with you all – to hopefully share the future success with you.