Steffany

Solange’s song “Weary” took on anthemic status when I turned 20 on Monday. I’m on edge a lot lately. I’ve been feeling jittery. Not necessarily anxious, instead, it’s as though I’m waiting behind the curtain for my cue to come on stage. Amidst all that’s going on, I’ve been working my ass off to maintain a sense of self. New day, new drama. That’s what can happen on a campus environment. My mama always told me to choose my battles to win my wars. As of late, I’ve been taking a lot of things on the chin.

I’ve come to realize that I shouldn’t give anyone the power to diminish my happiness. It’s OK to cry and acknowledge that I’m tired and take a li’l rest, but ultimately keep it pushing. College is a stepping stone! That isn’t included in the brochure. There’s so much preoccupation with the politics of the campus—the need to be likable, to be respectable, and whether people are receptive to who you are. These are some of the elements that are supposed to tie into how you navigate this space and whether or not you value yourself. All of these things bore me. I know who I am, and I can only be me.

“I’m young and I’m old. I’m rich and I’m poor. I feel like I’ve been on this Earth, many times before…” my waterproof speaker blasted Teena Marie’s “Déjà Vu (I’ve Been Here Before)” as I took a shower. My own version of a baptism. Racism on campus, likability, being seen as less than my male counterparts in my filmmaking class, and the paranoia of it all was weighing on your girl. A kiss from my mom, a hug from my dad, and being called ugly by my little brother restored me. I have so much going for me, genuinely. Fuck humility. It’s OK to say so. And to say, “You don’t deserve my energy!” I love the people whom I can laugh with. Laughter and getting this school work done in a timely fashion are my only concerns.

There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t crack a smile. I’m agitated sometimes, but goofy most times, and I know everything will work itself out. ♦