“So now my journey begins anew. It’s not going to be an easy one, I’m sure of that. I have decided on how to go about this Great Awakening and transformation…”
What the heck was I thinking when I wrote that two short years ago? I “decided” how I was going to learn how to be me? I was going to “transform” myself? I can’t believe I was that naïve, and, I’ve been assured, I am still not in the know about much of anything; I’ve only hit the tip of the wisdom iceberg.
I guess, in defense of my two years younger self, that it was a step in the right direction to at least be open to the fact that I was going to change, to embrace it, actually, and begin to prepare myself for that inevitability. I’ll say one thing for her, when she was tired of being unhappy about something she did something about it in her own little way.
I am really happy that I got to know her, have grown, since I was her, to love her and her idiosyncrasies. I am thankful for the window into her soul I have through those journal entries. I guess that’s the real reason why I still keep a diary. My initial reason was to document everything that Jonis ever said to me or did to me, or any other boy for that matter. Even though it started out a little less than correctly, I got around to talking about me and my feelings aside from boys eventually (although I still mention them from time to time).
Okay so on to my writing, I’d love to fix this, but here’s the original for a comparison to later versions:
I’ve never found my nickel bag to be a heavy weight,
Always thought that it was to be my fate.
I just put it in my Sunday purse and started on my way,
Not knowing all the bags that I would collect that day.
I met a guy and made an expedient exchange,
My heart for his suitcase was the deal soon arranged.
I went along my merry way to church, but stopped to take a look
And ended up trading my beauty for a bag of books.
If I can’t be beautiful I’ll dress ready for sex
Wear an out that speaks for my mouth, beckoning “Who’s next?”
Never realizing that to be sexy, you need not to dress hoochie,
I traded my common sense for a bag made by Gucci.
But I couldn’t afford Gucci, my nickel bag low on cash,
So I traded in my Gucci for a bag of trash.
The bags began to weigh me down,
my strength began to wane I
tried to handle them all by myself,
but they caused me pain.
I finally, finally came to the House of God,
Went timidly inside, afraid of his chastening rod.
But a tender voice said “Now that you’ve finally come back,
Leave your bags with me and leave her intact.
So I dropped my bags there, except my Sunday purse,
And although it held a lot of things, the bags I’d had were worse.
Erica Denise Hearns
Today was the kind of day that occurs in the middle of the summer to let you know that the sun’s warm rays won’t favor you forever. The clouds blocked any influence the sun might have had on the temperature, and the wind cried shrilly through the trees as if searching for a lost child. The oppressive atmosphere put me in a rather depressed mood. But then I came across a card from my old Self-Portrait teacher, and another from Amy telling me not to waste my talent, to keep writing, and here I am.
Stay tuned for another misadventure of this almost grown woman…until the next time, keep it true, no matter how many feelings truth hurts!