"I wonder why the obligation to declare one’s purpose exists at all" - T. Allen-Mercado

Upon my lifelong quest to discover who I really am, and in the aftermath of my most recent mental break, I read the Moms of Hue post (which I encourage you all to do) of my blog sister T. Allen-Mercado, and was moved into expression...

Tameka, I didn't know that we were allowed to wonder this or to even question it at all. So much weight is placed on defining one's life's purpose, building a career, living one's destiny. What do those things even mean? Ever since I was accepted to Cal, I have felt pushed and prodded to define my life's purpose, and before I was accepted to Cal, I thought I already had. I had always loved to write, was scolded by my grandmother for "never wanting to do nothin' but write", was exposed to journalism in school, and so that's what I wanted to do with my life back then. I wanted to become a journalist. I wanted to become an investigative reporter, a creator of "new media" before there was New Media - in an effort to show the world what good could be found in the inner city. To create a space for my own voice to yell out from beneath the concrete and be heard.

Now, with those demanding questions that you spoke of being hurled at me - So, what are you doing now that you've graduated? What can you do with a degree in Gender & Women's Studies? So, you wanna do social work? What kind of job are you looking for? You're not going to grad school? Why not? Administrative Assistant? Oh. - And the judgmental statements - $10 an hour is better than $0 an hour/ Did you think you were gonna come right outta college and be the CEO of a fortune 500 company?/ I thought you had drive and determination/ Your minimal salary requirement is too high. It all has shattered my self confidence and my self esteem, and ingrained in me that a life without purpose is a life that isn't worth living.

After revealing my lack of life's purpose and my belief that $10 an hour was not going to pay rent in a safe environment, I was dumped by the person that I thought understood my struggle. Not only dumped, but kicked while I was down... lack of drive and determination, remember? This morning, I found myself on a 24 hr crisis phone line, crying to a man asking me to tell him what was wrong when I had no words, feeling 5150ish.

I guess I say all of this to say that I hate the quest for the American Dream. Like your wondering about purpose itself, I hate the very fact that there is a quest for the American Dream because its just a trope to drive the world towards submission and homogeneity, and those who resist or get lost in the hype, go insane.

In my last post, those of you who commented seemed to find a happiness radiating from my words. That's cool.

Execumama said, "Your Happy just spilled right on through, and I am now reminding Self that feeling good is a CHOICE, and I choose it!" That's cool too.

Truth is. I'm not happy. Not even a little bit. And even my momentary contentment is a facade, because once back indoors, out from under the spotlight of expectation, that "Happy" mask gets taken off and thrown against the wall, falls to the floor, where it lies in tiny shattered pieces, until I am forced to have to try to piece it back together again to face another day. Forced to wear it in order to make the people around me feel more comfortable, because people don't have the energy and patience to understand. Yes, by no means is it easy to deal, to put up with, to give attention to someone who is always unhappy, and by no means do those of us who battle various mental illnesses and conflicts within ourselves that churn the waters of our unhappiness, expect family, friends, peers and lovers to deal with, to put up with, to give attention to our shit 100% of the time. However, it would mean a world of difference to just be understood.

I've found myself incredibly exhausted, run down and resentful. My back and shoulders no longer stand erect, and sometimes, I can't keep my head from hanging low. My spine curves under the pressure to "make it", to measure up, to not disappoint, to be everything I was suppose to be (which is funny because there are times when I don't even know who I really am). Its also funny how people are always saying stuff like, "you can lead a horse to the water but you can't make him drink." I guess putting the water into a bowl and raising it to the horse's mouth so that he may drink isn't an option. Its just not understood that some people have been fighting so hard and for so long that they just don't have any fight left in them. What happens to those people? Why is that concept so taboo? Instead of viewing those people as unwilling to help themselves, perhaps its more productive to ask yourself what lies beneath.

Its where I'm at. I literally don't have any fight left in me and I'm resentful. Resentful that I have to go at this all alone. Not just in terms of raising my child, but in terms of life in general. I am going at life alone. Yes, I just gusted about the amazing women around me, and part of the reason they are so amazing is their ability to understand, however, we are all in this rat race to measure up to society's rules and even women in their 30s and 40s are still working toward beating the odds; working toward proving themselves to people who are looking for them to fail. I am resentful that I've sacrificed a great deal and am not reaping the benefits. I am resentful that in 4 days me and my child will be homeless. I am resentful that my great-grandmother didn't consider putting me up for adoption after my mother died so that maybe I would have had a chance of experiencing the simple joy of having parents, a real family. I am resentful, that at 25, my life resembles that of someone who has about 2 or 3 decades on me. These should not be the experiences of a 25 year old. But yet they are. They are all mine. Alone.

That's what I tried to give them.

That is what I always find myself trying to give them.

Can somebody please explain to me what would make an aunt promise her niece that she'd be there on graduation day, and never show up? Now, explain to me what would make TWO aunts do this!

I gave them a choice of which ceremonies to attend.

Busted my ass trying to make sure that I'd be able to use my credit card to purchase tickets just to get them in the door.

And there I was. Half-supported.

This is how they do me?

Not answering my phone calls or having the decency to call or text me to say they couldn't make it.

Selling me false hope the day they took the tickets out of my hand; reassured me that they had the directions; talked about putting gifts and flowers in my hand.

And there I was . Half-supported.


If you are reading dear aunt(s). I'd like you to know a few things. The first of which: THAT WAS FUCKED UP!!!! And highly unforgivable. It was MY day. It was suppose to be special. I wanted you to be there. I needed you to be there... because our family is but a fraction, and without you there was a vacancy and a cast over MY accomplishment. Not having you greet me at the stage with flashes going, flowers, or just a simple cheer was devastating. You ruined MY day!

One of you found it more important to go out and enjoy a boxing match, which I'm sure included getting pissy drunk, because that's how you always are... pissy drunk... because YOU are a pissy drunk! And all you could say is that you were sorry? You're sorry? You're sorry? You god damn right you're sorry. And I am sorry, that I share DNA with people like you.

One of you has left my calls, text messages, and emails unnoticed. But you haven't missed a day of talking to my grandmother, and mentioning that you needed to still call me. Well, its been 17 days and still NOTHING! Do you ever plan on explaining to me how you could lie to me in such a way? DO YOU?

Truth is, I shouldn't even be mad at ya'll... I should be mad at myself for continuously believing in ya'll, AND for allowing ya'll to dictate how I end up feeling about myself and what I have worked hard for. Its funny how family has that kind of power. How an action, a statement, can totally transform the way you see things. Well, fuck that! Right now I'm about to put my foot down!

YOU, no longer get the benefit of the doubt!