Thahabu

I’ve been thinking about the past: advice my dad has given me; sketchy adventures with my friends Leah and Madison; and old favorite movies. I rewatched She’s Gotta Have It with a friend this weekend. I was probably 14 when I first saw it, and still too innocent to understand the overall theme and many innuendos. Watching it now, I noticed how much I can relate to Nola Darling, the carefree protagonist.

Nola pretty much lives as she likes and does what she wants. She doesn’t think there’s anything wrong with her and actually sees her actions and pretty sexual lifestyle as what keeps her sane. “Some people call me a freak…I don’t believe in it,” she says. But later in the movie, one of her lovers convinces her that she’s sick and needs to see a therapist to change her “unhealthy” habits. Nola goes to a therapist. She and the professional decide she is not, in fact, sick. Despite this, Nola still tries to change herself to please another of her lovers. She learns that no matter how much people ostracize her, she cannot be what anyone else wants her to be, and she loves it.

When I was 13 and 14, and again at 16 and 18, I was at my happiest. I was Nola Darling at the end of She’s Gotta Have It (minus her habit). For the past year, I’ve been trying to figure out why I haven’t been able to feel a semblance of that self-assurance and contentedness. After revisiting that film I know why. I’ve been shaping my life around other people, carving out pieces of myself to better fit them, and to have them fit me. But the people I’ve chosen have not done the same for me.

I have my flaws, and I’ve definitely improved myself and calmed myself down since high school. But it’s reached the point where I quiet myself down and make myself smaller so that my existence doesn’t stir up any trouble—as it has in the past. Who I am is OK to a few, and I know who my friends are. But the school I attend is different than back home. Many of the students here look at me like I’m crazy; they’re not used to seeing a black girl who likes Benjamin Booker just as much as she loves Beyoncé. I’ve been attacked for voicing my opinion and disagreeing with some not so intersectional views. Just as Nola’s lover did in She’s Gotta Have It, this school has tried to paint me as in need of fixing or changing. I’d almost agree with them if I didn’t have such wonderful friends who love me and check me if I’m out of line.

Another reason I haven’t been so nice to myself lately is due to new romantic experiences. The people I find attractive are also attracted to me and I find it shocking. I always knew I was beautiful to myself; I’m accustomed to simply being enough for me. Someone I’m actually interested in admitting they’re attracted to me another adds pressure, because then I think about why they want me and begin to overanalyze. I start to question it, like maybe they’re just trying to trick me or I know they keep wanting to hookup but do they actually like seeing me naked? This feeling is new and overwhelming and agonizing. I become so self-critical that I start making little changes to myself just to make sure I don’t turn them off, even though they say I’m more than enough.

I never used to think of myself as having to be enough for someone else. That requires compromise, compromise requires change, and I’m not sure if I’m ready to make any changes to myself. At this moment, I feel too young and free to change for someone who shows interest in me. I’ve already morphed myself to fit the crevices of this institution. I don’t want to shrink myself anymore. I’m tired of trying to avoid trouble for existing. I’m not weird, radical, or off. I’m perfect and beautiful. Like Nola Darling, I’m no freak. ♦