Their Eyes Were Watching God

In high school, I was in what I guess you'd call and accelerated English class. Not at all a surprise, given my propensity for writing since I practically first put pen to paper. In this class, we read and dissected Zora Neale Hurston's book, "Their Eyes Were Watching God." My best friends and I thoroughly enjoyed reading the book in school, and even as adults, we often looked back on it. One of those friends, Celeste, died of breast cancer a few years back. I miss her greatly, but I love that such an amazing book ultimately helped to connect us and will always be a living reminder of our friendship. I even managed to score a copy of the book at a used book store on my last official day of living in Los Angeles. That was a rough time for me. It's like even from the grave, the author speaks to me and my purpose.

I had a bit of a blast from the past, recently. Well, actually, several blasts from the past. I encountered something that made me think back on my previous relationships. The ones that meant the most. The ones where I gave my all. There are roughly 3 men who I consider among my deeper loves. Yeah, there have been several other men who were in my stratosphere, even men I deeply cared about. But those core 3 held my heart in their hands.

I go back and forth between my thoughts on those men and those experiences. Some days, I'm grateful, I recognize how much I grew from it, and bask in my greatness. Other days? Other days, I have to talk to myself to remind me that my anger, although understood, is not going to change or help anything. Thankfully, my good days far outweigh the bad. But I'd be lying to myself if those bad days and bad thoughts didn't creep in.

I was having an "in my feels" day recently, and I struggled to shake it. I called my rider, Shantria, and she reminded me not to look backwards, and not to compare myself to others. At this point, Shantria and I pretty much gotta stay friends, we know where each other's bodies are buried, so we gotta stay in line. But seriously, she'll never know how much I appreciate her! 

As I leaned towards relinquishing those negative thoughts, for some odd reason, I thought back on Janie, from the book. How she was basically given to her first husband, as a child, and he beat her mercilessly. Next up was the husband of status. And he treated her badly too. Then she got her Teacake. He was her heart (although, he was truthfully a bit of a mess too). And she literally had to sacrifice him to save herself. Strangely, typing it out and reading it, I realize how much of it mirrors my own experiences, in that very order. I don't know why, but it all made me feel better. Like, those feelings are valid, but I'm in my Janie era. By the end of the book, she'd seen and done it all, and she was happy just doing her own thing solo. 

Even with all of the whispers and speculation, she held her head high and knew better than to give a damn what the townspeople had to say about her choices. Janie is a fictional character, but she's a reminder that our value isn't based on who we date, or what we tolerated, or how they treated us. Our value is based on how we feel about ourselves. Those bad days are gonna exist, because that's life. But our bad doesn't have to be a center point, sometimes, it's just a stepping stone to our greater purpose. Thank you, Miss Zora.