It’s a Saturday, a full moon, and in a little while, an eclipse. I’m writing this from my desk. I don’t usually move my laptop around too much to write because I don’t enjoy it sitting on my lap. My leg eventually falls asleep, and then I get annoyed lol.
Current album playing: Miles Davis - Kind of Blue
This has been in rotation for a few weeks. Whenever I feel like I’m about to sit down and write something, such as thought vomit, a short story, an essay, or content for my business, I play a playlist or something slow. Tunes that help the thoughts flow from my mind onto the keyboard and eventually to the middle of your mind.
Today, I’m starting something new. And to be honest, like every follicular phase, I have new ideas, fresh and ready to be put into action. Because in about 20-something days, I’m gonna want to trash all of this shit and start something new. So let’s see how long this lasts.
The new thing that I’m starting is a Substack publication dedicated to talking about me. Yes. On my other Substack, I talk about y’all. Well, some about me, but mainly about spiritually charged topics and self-awareness. Here, I’ll still speak about self-awareness, but the main goal is to just yap. In long-form content. In a way that isn’t how ever many characters or less. Not in a way that requires me to look put-together to speak before a camera.
This is the first installment of whatever this Substack will be named. If you found your way here, I appreciate this time we’re spending together because I won’t be advertising this. I’m in my gap year. I’ll explain what a gap year for me is and why I’m in it later. For now, let’s talk about me and the shit I have going on.
First things first, my daughter got ready today because she and my husband were going to be hitting the streets for a while to give me time to myself. One thing I appreciate about that man is that he knows I value my alone time. I need a lot of it, in large quantities and frequently. Now, although that’s what I want, I don’t always get it because again, I have a kid and a husband. But when I can get it… oooooo y’all. I do the shit I want to do.
Back to my kid, she was getting ready, and she came into my room (as I was settling into a comfort that only one can enjoy when they know the house is about to be empty and the phone is fully charged), and she held up a recent purchase made by her GG, a training bra.
She inquired, “What is this?”
“I - um, okay. It’s a bra for young ladies whose chests are starting to develop.”
She said, “Okay, like those things?” and then proceeded to gesture with her hands at where her future boobs would be.
“Yes, that’s it.”
“Okay. I’ll try it.” She promptly strutted back to her room to get the contraption on and finish getting dressed.
I lay back on my bed for a moment and realized that I am nearing that point where I’ll need to be a lot more vocal about our bodies, answer all the questions she may have, and figure out how to explain topics that I’d wished my own mother had the know-how to break down when I was an adolescent.
My kid is blossoming into a young girl, a young lady. Basically, walking toward adolescence, and I need to get my shit together. Don’t get me wrong, I’m ready, but I think I’m ready in my head, lol, but the physical act of explaining things and trying to do it in an age-appropriate way where she will understand is what’s causing me pause.
Yes, I know that I should just be honest about what is happening or will eventually happen with her body.
Yes, I can give her more credit and that she will understand just fine and ask questions when necessary.
Yes, I can be sad that my daughter is growing up and isn’t going to continue to be the cute little girl with innocent wonder.
I learned a long time ago that I was going to be raising an adult and that once we were past a certain phase that I would need to begin preparing her for what’s to come. I don’t desire to mold her in any particular way, but I do want to raise a decent human being. Extraordinary even. Extraordinary to me would be self-aware, possessing the knowing of who she is and how she came to be on this planet, her purpose, metaphysical innerstanding, and a strong ability to enforce her boundaries.
High key, I want to raise a woman who knows what she wants and how to get it. One that doesn’t give her power away to others. Shows up as her most authentic self and doesn’t buckle under pressure. One who knows that all this shit is made up, including rules on how women “should” be, respectability politics, good girl tropes, etc. etc.
Am I describing a rebel? A menace even? lol. But in the upstanding human kinda way. A woman who charters her own path, isn’t afraid to speak her mind, and who believes in herself. One who acknowledges the moon cycles and who knows the power of intention and a candle.
~
I’ve been working on updating some outdated short stories in preparation for a possible book or just to post and shoot the shit over on my Tumblr account.
I began writing short stories when I was young. It wasn’t until I became acquainted with fanfiction on Tumblr that I attempted to write my own NSFW content. Talk about liberation. The ability to write and describe acts so scandalous, you make sure that thing is charged in your drawer each time you doom scroll the blog.
Yeah, I’m not safe for work lmao. Me as a person. I have so many layers: ones I love and ones I’m still discovering.
But this story is taking a while to come together. I have an issue with slowing down enough to flesh out my imagery. For me to really write something I’m satisfied with, I have to work on it for a few days, and sometimes, I be wanting that shit how I want it right now. *face palm*
It’s a vice I’m working through, slowing down my creative process. I move faster than a virgin sometimes. And all that happens is a quick nut with no foreplay.
Current album playing: Solange - True
The creative process is a constant mental case of throwing something at the wall and circling back to gradually add the details. I can’t microwave my shit. I have to remember I’m in this physical body and time is a thing.
~
Before we go, I’ll touch on that gap year I mentioned earlier. I’m on a gap year from now until next September. This year means that I’m not putting in much effort into anything outside of what absolutely matters to me. This next year is dedicated to frolicking around on social media with no goals. No desire to see how many followers or likes I got, no desire for validation, no desire for people to comment or talk back to me.
I plan to create for me and my spirit guides. That is it. That is all.
This next year will be spent giving to myself. Diving deeper into the well within and putting myself first.
Traditionally, a gap year is known as the time when a young person graduates from high school and starts the next chapter of their life. They do it because they aren’t quite sure what they want to major in in college or what career they want to commit to.
I have been growing into a new layer of myself, and many of the things that used to resonate with me no longer hold my attention. People, clothing, places, topics, the whole nine. With that being said, I’m suspended in the “in-between”. Transitioning from one way of existence to another, and I don’t know where I’ll land. But while I’m here, I’m going to do my part and lean in. Hang from this cord for as long as necessary until Spirit lands me safely.
~
In the middle of writing this, I figured out what this publication will be called: Living in Layers.
- Ray