I turned 40 this year. The plan was originally to get my passport (finally) and spend my 40th birthday on a beach in Jamaica. For the last two years, I've told everyone that would listen that I have every intention to be toes down in the beach in that beautiful island nation. But then COVID-19 was like NOPE!
Given the massive changes that accompanied this horrible virus, I'd say that I've been pretty lucky. Being able to stay home for so long has done a lot for me. Definitely an unexpected blessing. I debated on the best way to spend my big day. Clearly leaving the country was out of the question. But traveling wasn't. Or was it? I decided that the best thing to do was to cross another item off of my bucket list and with all of my free time and unemployment money. It took a few weeks of research (not like I had much else to in the meantime anyway) but I decided on the perfect route. I was going to drive to the other side of the country. Los Angeles and San Francisco, two of my favorite cities, and whatever cities I come across in the meantime.
Deciding on the best days to travel became an issue too. In early June, unless you were living under a rock, you know about the curfews and lock downs as the result of a lot of racial strife in this country. I've been nursing a knee injury that I feared would be worsened by marching or running in the case of a protest that went awry, so despite my years of protesting in my 20s and 30s, I opted to sit the protests out. While watching from home, I lay somewhere between "oh my God, please be safe and go home" and a feeling of "BURN ALLA THIS SHIT DOWN!!"
But it hurt. It hurt to watch, it hurt to know that it was going on. I understood the necessity, but it physically hurt to watch. I was confused and sad. People hurting, being killed. Social media became my primary news source. All I wanted was answers.
In the meantime, I slowly approached my birthday. A few of my Facebook friends had the misfortune of celebrating their birthdays on lockdown. I had the utmost faith that by the time my birthday rolled around, I'd be free to safely travel about the country. I'm lying. I was terrified. Some of the cities I planned to drive through had some pretty gnarly riots from what the news was reporting. Thankfully, as the time drew nearer, things simmered a bit. I was truly nervous about being a lone Black woman driving through a bunch of new cities, during a time of the most racial tension in this country for the last 50 years. But I'm still Malika.
As the birthday drew nearer, I experienced the loss of a previously good friend. The friend didn't die, thankfully, but they started dating someone else and their friendship essentially vanished. I could have held on. But after that friend doing something similar in the past, I knew that our friendship was over. I even decided not to invite them to my 40 celebration. I knew that it would be awkward for them to see it online, but I wasn't going to change up my plans, just to make them feel better.
I decided to do it up Malika style. I started the actual celebration at an open, outdoor ice cream shop, for the friends that preferred to socially distance. Followed up by 6 friends having the time of our lives at my apartment. I won't get into the tawdry details, but there was more than a little alcohol consumed. It was definitely good times.
Now I'd been previously warned that turning 40 creates a new level of not giving a shit. But I can say that going into 40, I was pretty at ease. Feeling amazing even. And roughly a week later, I was on the road. I'll keep it brief, but the cities I went to were
Baton Rouge
New Orleans
Austin
Amarillo
Denver
Salt Lake City
Reno
San Francisco
Los Angeles
The Grand Canyon
Albuquerque
Santa Fe
Oklahoma City
Little Rock
Memphis
It was- well, amazing. It's no longer the therapeutic trip that I needed when I originally started traveling. I mean, there was still some therapy and healing, but not the same level. But at some point, one of my friends wrote a despicable thing on Facebook. I called him out and posted a screenshot on my page. He texted me, outraged. I let him know that what he wrote was wrong. Long story short, our friendship is over. That's 2 people.
By the time I hit Oklahoma, I was ready to get home. I missed my bed, my cat, and my child. My final stop in Memphis was a bit emotional, as I went to the Lorraine Hotel, the site of Dr. King's assassination. From there, I drove straight home overnight.
I got home and crashed immediately. I was exhausted. It truly took a few days of decompression to get back to myself again. During my period of re-acclimation, I watched the news and social media to learn that the governor of Georgia intended to sue the mayor of Atlanta over mask mandates.
I felt physically ill. My life seemed like it was no longer mine. I was tired, angry, confused. I knew that I no longer wanted to call the South home. I made the decision that the moment my son graduates high school in 6 years, I plan to move to California.
While home from work, I continued to utilize social media to entertain an inform me. To make a long story shorter, a good guy friend, who I'd always thought of as an ally of women, downplayed the shooting of Megan Thee Stallion. He and I fell out, I went off on him, and he called me a bitch. I spent days crying. I took to my bed. My heart and every part of my body physically hurt. That's 3 people. I took to a private chat to vent to my frustrations. A friend in the chat took that particular time to come down on me, stating that I'd sworn off dealing with the guy for the last few years. I began to swear at him. I'll admit, my nerves were heightened at the moment. I was raw, I was hurt, I was angry. I kicked him from the chat and blocked him. That's 4 people.
I opted to go offline at that point. Truthfully, I wanted to go offline previously, but I kept it up, primarily to record my birthday celebrations and trip. But I knew that I needed to scale back. I needed t be away from people. Too much people-ing. I needed to be near less persons. A few loved ones checked in after noticing my absence, but I assured them all that I was fine, I simply needed a moment. They understood.
I was anxious about plans that I was making for the future. Some friends and I started working on a project that I was excited to be part of. It kept me occupied, during a time where the world seemed to be on fire. There was a friend who has a long history of disappearing and reappearing. I stated to my friend that in the future, I'd appreciate him telling me if he needs to disappear. I assured him that he doesn't have to tell me exactly what he's going through, nor do I need an expected date of return. I simply need to know that his disappearance is not tied to something I've done, so that my anxiety is not chewing at me from the inside out.
He accused me of trying to keep tabs on him. He continued to play dumb. He asked me to explain myself several times, despite me speaking plain, clear English what I needed. I eventually hurried off of the phone with him. I was deflated. I hurt. My stomach physically hurt. I relayed the conversation to friends of mine, asking if my request was outlandish. My friends assured me that asking someone for a basic heads up was not outlandish or selfish. I'd been friends with him for years. Over a decade. But my thought was simply that I've already lost 4 friends, what's one more? That's 5 people.
I wish I could say that I'd been brave and casual about the loss of 5 people I loved enormously. To be fair, I didn't completely ex out my last encounter, but I definitely opted to scale back my contact with him. But still, I consider him the 5th. I went into a low-grade depression. I found my body again physically hurting. My stomach literally was in knots. I wished I could sleep all day. I was glued to my television, watching Mad Men, just wishing it would all go away. Why was I losing friends? What's wrong with me? The more I looked back at the issues that just occurred, the more I knew that I was right. I realized that I'd let people get so okay with being shitty to me, that my tolerance of it was no longer. And the shock came because they'd essentially done what the'd always done, I just no longer wanted to be victimized and disrespected, so I exploded.
I just wanted it to be better. I wanted answers. Why did this hurt? How can some people have major beef with others and 10 minutes later be okay, while a falling out with loved ones leaves me feeling like a part of my soul is missing? That's when it hit me. I'm an empath. I feel. I feel deep. I suck up the energy of others, whether it be good or bad. And some people enjoy unloading all of their negativity onto others, knowing that their victim will eventually implode from the pressure. They get off on it. They think it's funny or entertaining to leave me depleted, hurt, and confused. And I've let them. For all those years, I allowed people to leave me drained. And worse yet, when things were healed, and I was better, I allowed them to come back and do it all again. I gotta own it, I can't blame anyone but myself at this point.
Oddly enough, learning that I was/am and empath was freeing. It all made sense. Why I was so sensitive. Why I avoid arguments. I'm an empath. Wow.
The other morning, I awoke and something suddenly hit me. I needed to be grateful. I needed to stop questioning why the universe was taking these people out of my life, rather than being thankful that many people that I'd known were toxic were leaving my space. Now that I'm learning to show gratitude, rather than hesitation, I can allow my life to flow more peacefully, rather than dragging my feet and blocking my progress.
Since then, I'm learning more so to protect my space. I thought I would have gone back on social media by now, but I still can't bring myself to go on my Facebook page. My time has been taken up by Reddit instead, which is far less personal. Plus it allows me to follow the pages I support, which allows me to avoid seeing things that jar me. I'm far more aware of who I spend my time with, and I give myself permission to leave moments and places that make me uncomfortable.
I'm not sure how much longer I will be in this space of reservation from others, but I feel whole for the first time in a long time, I feel in control. I made a conscious decision not to text back someone who broke my heart when he responded to me yesterday, and I feel proud of that. Now that I know what's at stake, I'm a lot more aware and I'm able to make decisions that serve me and move me forward. I'm 40 and I'm an empath.
