Converses vs. High Heels: Where do I fit in?

Disclaimer: Some of these pictures might make you want to run for the hills but I am confident enough to share this with y'all.

Growing up, I went through many different phases in my life. When I was about as high as 3 apples, the youngest of my mom's family, my lovely aunt was a teen. A teen who was loud, bubbly who had mistaken me for her real-life Barbie Doll. She used to come to our house with all of her friends and they would dress me up, in big poofy dresses and do little braids on my hair. I didn't mind. I loved being a little diva; I would tell most people not to touch me because I was pretty and they were not. You could say that I was very conceited; when you're an only child and everyone in your family tells you how special and cute you are, you tend to believe it, right? RIGHT?

I know- I was a cutester!

here I am with my father

Then I became a teen. A teen who loved her baggy jeans and her holey sweatshirts more than life itself. I had over 20 pairs of jeans and I wore them non-stop. I didn't want anything to do with hair styling, make-up or anything of the sort. It's like my aunt and her crazy friends had traumatized me to death. My mother would often be quoted, saying: " I gave birth to a girl, not a boy. Please put on a skirt, or a top that doesn't reach your knees." I was seriously set on wearing a purple and black tracksuit to my senior prom.

To scare my mother even more, I used to tell her that I would rock a white Adidas tracksuit with "The Bride" bedazzled on the back and I would match them with some fierce Converse white high tops; she had so many nightmares about it. Point was that I didn't care one bit. In high school, I hung out with my little group of girlfriends who are still my best friends now, whom I miss dearly by the way :) and I didn't participate heavily in after-school activities. I wasn't on any sports team, I didn't do arts or crafts, I wasn't member of any club. I was just plain.

When I was going into my senior year of high school, I had a wake up call; I wasn't going to be remembered for anything so I kicked myself into gear. I became a member of the music club; it didn't matter that I couldn't play a single instrument. I joined the school "glee club" if you could call it that; it didn't matter that I cannot hold a tune to save my life. I was part of the drama club and even co-wrote a play with all of my classmates; I played an OG {that's an Original Gangsta}. I was part of the Arts and Fashion show where I was behind the scenes of course; you can't expect a miracle to happen.

I started dressing up and changing a bit my style. I still loved my converses but I'd wear tighter jeans and cute tops. I even wore a dress .:GASP:. to my prom. Then I did a complete 180°. I tried being a complete girly girl; I wore dresses and skirts non-stop. I would buy loads and loads of make-up that I didn't even know how to wear often. I started buying heels that I couldn't even walk in; I guess I just wanted to be noticed as a girl for the first time in my life.

at Prom

Now it feels like the old part of me wants to break out from the shell; I don't want to veer off into the horrible part of me but I can't pretend to be girly girly because that's just not who I am. If a girl can walk in 4' inch heels and not have sore feet by the end of the night, then she's my hero. My feet are already sore from wearing flats all day. I do love makeup and have gotten better at it, most definitely but sometimes, I just like to be bare. I know I have sun spots and little freckles around my nose but I embrace it; it's who I am. I don't need to hide behind all these artificial stuff because that's what I was doing, hiding. I hid behind everything instead of really feeling things and just being myself.

I am not a spotlight kind of girl; I like to blend in. But there is a difference between blending in and completely disappearing. Now, I am at a point where I just want to find a common ground between my converses and my high heels.

+ =

I remember.

As I sit on my bed, checking my bank account balance online while mentally making my grocery's list {I'm a multi-tasker:) }, I sometimes wish I had a machine just to go back in time for a few hours. I wish I was 6 or 7 again. I had no worries back then. All I thought about was my grandmother's mint candy, that were scattered at the bottom of her purse, being the most popular girl in my class, climbing trees (I've always felt I was a monkey in a previous lifetime) and ice cream.

My grandmother is the nicest woman I have ever met and since I am one of her first grandchildren, she adores me. She always had a preference for me ever since I was born; my mother wanted to name me Idmane or Abyan originally but my grandmother asked her to name me Ayan, which in my birth tongue, means "bright" or "the lucky one". My name also means "God's gift"; " Peace" and "Center of the soul". I believe the meaning of names can predict who you are deep down inside. It's like my friend Paul; I have known him for some time now so technically there should be no way I would fumble on his name, but almost every time I call him Nathan. Go figure, he always looked like a Nathan to me; until the day I started looking up names definitions for all my loved ones. Turns out that Paul really means "small" and Nathan means "God Given". I then knew what I really saw in him and it's the same with my grandma; It's like she could foresee the person I was meant to be by choosing the perfect name for me.

she is the only person who, to this day, sees me as a grownup. Everybody else in my family stills sees me as a child and think that I know nothing about life. My mima, as I called her, lived in a pretty big house but what I loved the most, was the big juniper tree on the front porch. She would set a few piled mattresses on the floor and plastic chairs so that if us children decided to play out on the porch, an adult could sit outside and keep an eye on us. She would sit there countless hours, staring at us play around. I remember climbing that big juniper tree, hiding in the branches until she came and sat at the foot of the tree, then I would jump down to try and scare her. But she never fell for it; she always knew I was hiding in that tree and she always feared that I would break a limb. In order for to get me down from the tree, she always bribed me with mint candy; what can I say? I am a sucker {pun intended :)} for candy.

I remember my father always taking me out for ice cream every single Friday; it was our weekly tradition. I was a wise little girl and I knew that if I batted my eyelashes a little and gave my father the biggest smile I could master, he would be putty in my hands and you best believe that I took full advantage of that. It wasn't long before I was smiling left and right in order to get a bigger dose of weekly ice cream. I remember being a girly girl with my little braids and my paisley dresses, just being happy. I remember sitting in my grandpa's lap (May God Rest his Soul) while trying to take my first steps. I remember litterally pigging out on chocolate { another great love of mine}. I remember my first day of school, I was so nervous and when I get nervous, I get a serious case of the giggles. I remember writing my first letter; it was a letter to my mother telling her I loved her.I remember a time in my life where life was just easy; I was carefree. When I look back upon these pictures, I really miss being a child.


Do you ever miss being a child?

Mood: Nostalgic

"A real friend is the one who walks in when everyone else walks out."- Anon

Today is a beautiful day; the sun is shining, birds are chirping, and the weather is lovely. As I'm sitting in the backyard enjoying this beautiful weather, so many memories are flowing back to me, especially ones of my best friend for life. For me, a good friend is like a really good pair of shoes; always there when you need them and with a bond that is ever-lasting. Well, I share more than a bond with this girl; it's a mental, spiritual and emotional connection with her. As we were growing up, my mum often said that we must be sharing a brain or else, since we are so much alike and to think even for a second that I might have never met her, is the weirdest thing to me. If my parents had never gotten divorced, then me and my mum would have never moved to Canada and I would have never met her; in a way, I guess, thanks Mum and Dad!

The weirdest part about our relationship is it feels like we've known each other all of our lives; which is ironic in a way. She had this friend back in kindergarden who, apparently looked exactly like me, had my name and she was her best friend back then. And I remember so vividly her asking me over and over again, in the first months of our friendship, if I was sure I didn't go to her kindergarden; she was adamant on the idea that I was her old best friend. To this day, that part of the mystery, that is her kindergarden friend and where she has disappeared to, has never been elucidated but it almost feels like I was meant to cross her path.

Then this whirlwind also known as our friendship began. We used to live 5 minutes away from each other; we had oh-so many classes in school together; and we spent most of our high school years together. I remember sitting in class, and being dyslexic I sometimes had trouble reading out loud and our 10th grade teacher asked me to read a chapter of Lord of the Flies or the Chrysalids, I can't remember which one it was. Anywho, I fumbled on a word; so instead of saying "assuaged" I said "assuajaded" and to this day, she still laughs hysterically at that while imitating my teacher's face at my fumble. I remember her LITERALLY pushing me into my doorway because my neighbor was coming out of the house with his dog and she has a phobia of dogs. I remember us busting Michael Jackson in her parent's car and singing so loud at red lights to scare people off. I remember sitting at our McDs (we stalked it all the time, so it became our hangout spot; I know very lame) trying to find boys we could flirt with. I remember just sitting in her basement watching so many episodes of Friends. I remember how into clubbing we were when we finally turned 18 and had to cross the bridge to go to Gatineau (a town across Ottawa but that was on the Quebec side since Ottawa's legal age is 19)just so we could party. I remember her yawning like a dog (You just had to be there) or yelling some random dude's name in the street and seeing him look around, then look up to the sky as if God was calling him.

She always has been my main support through all my relationship dramas and God knows I've had my share; and even when I leave my hometown either to go back to Africa, to my roots or deciding to move to Europe, she has always supported me. She is the kind of person I'd be able to call at 4'oclock in the morning and I know she'd be there. She is the kind of person who planned a trip to Europe to visit not only the main cities, but also me. I know that even if we haven't spoken for months on end, whenever we do talk, it'll be like none of those months passed and we'll pick our conversation right where we left it off. The word "Friend" doesn't even begin to describe her and what she means to me. She's my "Ride or Die" Chick; she's my sister. And obviously, you can tell I miss her a great load. So here's a doodie I wrote for you. Until the day I get to see her face to face, it's been almost a year!

xox