I AM Still Standing…by Elton John is playing as my them song for the day. “Looking like a true survivor and feeling like a little kid!” Holding on to his words so that ic an feel them through my spirit. It pains me that women, not all women just a great few, do not appreciate seeing other happy women. Why is that?
Since August or September I have been riding this bus. Little do they know I had already known the bus driver from when I use to travel later in the morning. He and I 😂 all morning, well not all morning just the time it takes from the station to my work area. And in that time I am mean mugged and scuffled at. How ridiculous? These are supposedly grown women behaving like desperate coyotes. I would call them hyenas, it wouldn’t fit because even hyenas know how to LOL…
This morning as I walked closely to the group, I hear someone state how does she have that much energy in the morning. And then implying that something must be wrong with a person who has that much energy in the morning. And then one of them gives her a “good” job for speaking in my presence. I would hope that those comments were not for me. As I would hope that between the four or five of them that they would have something more positive going on than to speak on my behalf.
There exists a high chance it was about me. Besides the fact that they voice their opinions of me to the bus driver when I get off the bus. It is only a fifteen minute ride. Why would I be upset that you’re discussing my level of energy and obviously you’re admiring me? I would love to admire each of you. Now I cannot because you, all of you, behave like a coyote with a bone, not interested in sharing. And may I add it is a bone that I am not even truly interested in. In Big Sean’s voice, “I Don’t F**K With You!”
Perhaps the passing chuckles between the bus driver and I probe their jealousy. And if that is the case it has nothing to do with me. Their utter resentment for me has nothing to do with me. It is their own misplaced insecurities that demand each and everyone of them to possess a passionate dislike for a person whom they have never met. All they are doing is teasing the ten times over bullied little girl.
Let this soft voice fool you, if you want. You can take the girl out of 3-0-5 now you cannot take the 3-0-5 out of the girl. And no one would appreciate Kima. As she is the intelligent hurt little girl that before you even realize it will dig deep down into your soul and bring to life your every insecurity. And that is the easy part of her. We all know that hurt people hurt others. She is the impulsive part of me that does not give a hoot as strongly felt that no one ever gave a hoot about her.
I was always Kima, until I was older. Then I no longer introduced myself as her. Family calls me Kima, as they should since they created that monster. Americans always want to drop the “O”…just leave it there as I state one more time, I am Okima. They are lucky that I love being Lady Okima, so more poised and well mannered.
Has anyone ever watched United States of Tara? Well she had one more personality that no one was familiar with. That particular personality literally pissed on people. That about sums up how Kima feels. I appreciate my lucky stars for taming her, because Kima, would not have walked away from a challenge, even if she knew she would get the beat down. I think she knew that she had to release the anger of the beast at times or it would turn inward and create havoc internally.
Trust me this morning Kima was standing on the edge waiting as she always is. Mr. Bus Driver timely stated, that is why I like you, your uniqueness is genuine. You don’t seem to let anything phase you. I replied, “oh, it does, temporarily.”. Then I think of the sugar water my Auntie Charlotte used to give. The wonderful stories Cousin Antoinette would tell me. Cousin Poochie’s magnetic energy and how I admired the way she popped her lips. Walks on the beach with Daddy. Getting to actually be a real kid when with Rosie. And Mommy always taking care of me when I was 🤒. Those are the memories that make Kima less reactive.
The moral here is that moments do not last forever. No matter how horrible they may appear. And if one could just grab hold to it and be present, he or she would know that everything or everyone does not require a reaction. Once you get passed that moment that seems fatal, then who gives a hoot. It is over and you can then move on with your life as if no interruption has occurred.