Tag: Medium

Writers: A Challenge

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“Loyalty” in three words

The love of my life: Jernee Timid Loadholt. Photo Collage Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt

It is one of the qualities I find most important in the people I allow in my circle: loyalty. If you are not able to support me or stand by my side when hard times arise — we may not last as friends. And in turn, I should be able to do the same for you — be there, support you, lift you up when you’re feeling down, and help you in any way that I can. I don’t have to ask of these things from Jernee. She is my full support system and live-in love magnet. If ever I fall into a fit of tears, my girl is always right there to press against me, cuddle, and paw at my tears. I get from her what I need — I always hope she’s getting from me what she needs.

So, the challenge? Express loyalty using three words only. What does loyalty mean to you? Is it important? Was anyone ever disloyal in your life — how’d that affect you? 

Here’s mine:

undeniable . . .
true love.

Writers: let’s get creative, shall we? Express loyalty using just three words. You can do this! I know you can.

Please, bring it!

And of course, there’s music. The Brothers Johnson, I’ll Be Good to You

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Originally shared via Medium.

Clover

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Part II: The sorta pink lipstick

Photo by Ithalu Dominguez via Pexels

I don’t know what to call this feeling.

I brush the broom across our foyer and cringe — woosh-woosh.

Clover, Part I

How Watching “Luca” Made Me Want to Live Again

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Maybe I am ready for the surface

Photo by Tiago Ebisui via Unsplash

On Saturday, June 26, 2021, after my fingers tapped away feverishly at my laptop and my eyes scanned several articles to which I set free into the world of vigorous reading, I slouched in my favorite chair — my heart at ease and mind ready and succumbed to the gift that is Luca. Disney+ has become my refuge — my place of entertainment and subtle peace.

Over the last few months, I’ve enjoyed viewing Raya and the Last Dragon, Soul, and various Pixar “Shorts” that have placed me in a state of sheer calm, maniacal laughter, overwhelming sadness, or complete satisfaction. But it was Luca that reminded me of what it feels like to want to get back out into the world.

Without spoiling the movie (too much), I will tell you it is of a young sea creature who befriends another and the two of them leave their home in the ocean’s deep to temporarily live on land among humans. Both of them yearned to scratch away at the surface and explore a world about which they had no actual knowledge.

Trying to meet their goal introduces them to a town of avengers who make it their life’s work to rid their waters of “sea monsters” and they find a friend in a young girl who has a goal of her own. Giulia/Giulietta gives the two friends a spark they needed and through no fault of her own, causes Luca and Alberto to fall into a verbal brawl that opens their eyes and changes their hearts.

But it was Luca that reminded me of what it feels like to want to get back out into the world.

If you are a sentimental being, then I assure you, this animated film will pull at your heartstrings. There is a connectedness to truly living and the longing to explore everything the world offers at every angle and from my chair — I felt the need to get up and out into a once locked-down-and-plagued-realm and live — seriously live. I haven’t felt this way in a long time.

From the deep, I saw myself swimming to the surface, gathering my pre-COVID-19 self, picking a place on the map, packing, and getting in my car to head straight to that very spot. I envisioned traveling again — more importantly; I wanted to travel again.

I wanted the fresh air of the mountains hovering around me. I wanted the expansiveness of the unfamiliar to reach out to me. I wanted . . . to feel free again and to act on it with no regrets.

I felt the need to get up and out into a once locked down and plagued realm and live — seriously live.

I wanted to be Luca.

As life would have it, things are slowly trying to reopen and people are re-familiarizing themselves with their favorite places — if those places are still up and running. They are taking flights to see family members. They are reconnecting with friends and holding newborn babies. Many of them are seeing and meeting with relatives who they have not seen in over a year.

While watching Luca, I wanted to be among this crowd too. I want to shed a bit of skin and drive back down to Asheville, North Carolina, or Southern Virginia or the tail end of Georgia. I saw myself with my carry-on, phone, earbuds, and books, boarding a plane to Alaska or Washington or Texas.

I think I’m ready to live.

I wanted . . . to feel free again and to act on it with no regrets.

The movie has a variety of quotes sure to stick with me as the future introduces itself. A few of my favorites are:

“Look me in the eye. You know I love you, right?” This is from Luca’s mother, Daniela, as she tries to make him understand why she does what she does for him — his safety is of the utmost importance in her eyes.

“Silencio, Bruno!” A mantra/motto for Luca to say — gifted by Alberto to get him through his fears — sort of a way to speak to that inner voice inside you that constantly hounds you and attempts to get you to not do what you intend to do.

“You got me off the island, Luca. I’m okay.” This is also from Alberto as he bids farewell to Luca right before he takes the train to go to school with Guilia.

“I’m not crying, you’re crying!”

I didn’t think an animated film could reach its hand out to me, lift me from my disillusioned state, and show me I can live again and I should at least try. Trying is the hardest part, though, isn’t it? I am one step closer to willing my body to press itself against the world. I simply have to put on my shoes, tie them, and place one foot in front of the other.

There is a world out there slowly opening back up, ready for me to take a damn chance. Maybe it is time I emerge from the deep and make my way to the surface. But then, I learn about new variants of a virus that blows through every system it touches, leaving people forever changed, and I am hesitant again.

I don’t want to be. I just am.

And then there are days when I shake myself free from my prison and say, “Let me just grab my mask, hand sanitizer, and various supplements, notepad & pen, music, and Jernee. I have places to go, people to see, and living to do.”

“Fifteen minutes at a time, though. Fifteen minutes at a time.” Deep down — in the wells of my wavering spirit, I plea not to pressure myself. And I won’t. But maybe, just maybe, it is time.

Originally published in Age of Empathy via Medium.

Writers: A Challenge

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Reminisce (Three Words Only)

Photo by Marta Wave via Pexels

My kid brother moved to Seattle, Washington this past May. He is the youngest boy of our mighty seven and one who lived with me for three years and remained in North Carolina for five years after that. To say I miss the kid is a major understatement. I am ten years older than him — he was eight when I left for college and confessed to me when he was about twenty years old that he felt his “mother” was leaving him. I carried that with me for a long while but had to remind him — although I was significantly older, I was not his mother — am not his mother — he has one. We have one.

I thought of our connection this morning and it sparked this challenge. Using three words only, give me a snippet of a memory — any memory that sends you sailing down the nostalgic rabbit hole.

Here’s mine:

estivating — no . . .
permanence.

He isn’t just visiting somewhere for the summer, he has ventured to make Washington his home — at least for now. I am planning on visiting him sometime next year.

Now, it’s your turn . . . Writers, let’s get creative! Reminisce, but use three words only. Please, bring it!

And yes, a bit of music: They Reminisce Over You (T.R.O.Y.) Pete Rock & CL Smooth

YouTube

Originally shared via Medium.

After 6 Years, My Hairstylist Is Breaking Up With Me

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Photo by Ismail Hadine via Unsplash There’s just so much beauty in this one photo, it’s truly mesmerizing.

I’m not ready to let go but I have to

It happened on Tuesday, June 15, 2021, around 5:45 pm. I texted my hairstylist to see what her next available date and time for a Saturday morning would be so that I could make an appointment. Her response to me was, “I’ve stopped doing Saturday appointments altogether.” I was walking my dog, Jernee when the response came through. Instantly, I stopped. I re-read the text.

Did I just read what I think I read?!

I did. I re-read it again and the response did not change. She was no longer taking Saturday appointments. This meant my routine of every three to four weeks of a wash, cut, and style would go right out the window. This also meant all the bonding, growing, intense conversations about faith, love, and gainful employment would crawl behind my routine out that same window. My other place of peace will possibly be no more.

The boulder had been drug out, rolled toward me, and it landed . . . hard.

After I gathered myself, I responded by informing her that her new schedule, unfortunately, doesn’t work with mine and I’d have to take a day off to come and get my hair done and at present, my next day off is Tuesday, August 03, 2021. I asked if I could go ahead and lock an appointment for that day since I felt as though many of her clients are having to move their schedules around and her weekdays will probably fill up sooner than later.

This meant my routine of every three to four weeks of a wash, cut, and style would go right out the window.

We agreed on that day — 12:30 pm. It is safe and secure in my digital calendar as an “event” I don’t want to miss.

I applaud my stylist for being able to make a decision to move away from doing something that essentially eats up her entire Saturday and having the courage to step forward in another direction. But without saying it, she has broken up with many of us and for those of us who will not be able to consistently keep up with her new schedule, this means I would have to find another hairstylist.

It means moving on.

My intention is to seek a recommendation from her to another hairstylist within the salon who can manage my hair. It’s unruly and thick and wavy and grows funny in the back and I have a blonde patch that she has trimmed so perfectly over the years that is now shading itself a dirty grey. All of this, I love, but who else will?

I trusted her with my hair. Who can I trust to do what she has had the full capability of doing for six years?

But without saying it, she has broken up with many of us and for those of us who will not be able to consistently keep up with her new schedule, this means I would have to find another hairstylist.

Finding a hairstylist who proves him or herself worthy of taking your time and money is a hard task. It can also be a stress-filled one and I want to avoid any new stress factors at this time or in the near future. A recommendation from my current stylist is what I feel deep down, will suit me best.

I feel like I’m being asked to sign divorce papers and I didn’t even agree to a divorce. It feels like another act of abandonment. It reminds me of the pain that comes with leaving bits of yourself with someone you have come to love, respect, and look forward to seeing but now . . . now you have to act as though none of that exists. You are beckoned to put on a happy face, suck it up, and allow these new changes to comfort you.

Eff these new changes.

This is what I want to say but the adult in me knows acting like a three-year-old will get me nowhere. I implore myself to make note of the positives:

1. I’ll get to meet new people.

2. I can work on enhancing my trust meter.

3. I could get new hairstyles.

4. I would still be able to see my old hairstylist and chitchat with her from time to time if I agree to stick with the current hair salon.

5. I can take back my Saturdays as my regular hair appointment days.

As I call these positives within earshot, I feel better. I am not a fan of change especially when my comfort level is secure and I feel safe in the bubble designed for me. The moment that bubble is deflated is the very moment I have trouble seeing what could be beneficial for me behind my cloudy vision. I have to be reminded of previous positive changes. I have to remember how much their influence and impact had on my life and how I have grown for making those changes.

You are beckoned to put on a happy face, suck it up, and allow these new changes to comfort you.

After six years, my stylist is breaking up with me. There will be no fanfare or party or gifts exchanged. I do not look forward to inquiring about a recommendation — it feels like stepping over a line — like perhaps, maybe I should not ask. But she is also the perfect person to ask since she works in the same building with the same women and men doing exactly what she does on a daily basis. Someone there should be open to taking on new clients and perhaps they will be interested in taking on me.

Cue a-ha, Take on Me (this is still one of my favorite videos, btw).

2021 has been full of surprises so far. I guess if there was any year to jump into a sea of changes, this one is the perfect one in which to do so. Good thing I usually don’t have much trouble swimming. Let’s hope I can stay afloat long enough with whoever will be my new hairstylist — let’s hope I won’t have to change again after landing the new one or in the near future.

The moment that bubble is deflated is the very moment I have trouble seeing what could be beneficial for me behind my cloudy vision.

Six long years have come and gone. More are ahead of me if I am lucky. Six years from now, maybe I’ll even have different hair or a different way of addressing what my hair needs and what I want for my hair. For right now, one step at a time.

New hairstylist, here I come. Please, be gentle.

Originally published via Medium.