I don't recall how old I was, whatever age you are when you begin the 9th grade. For some stupid reason there was a change in the School System stretching the grades in Elementary, Middle and High School. I felt as if it were premature and the students (myself) wasn't quite ready to be thrown into High School. In my mind, proper development is a major factor when it comes to maturity and abilities. I was barely getting accustomed to Middle School life and all of its changes, then BAM, get ready for High School a year early -insert petrified face here- I complained, but nothing changed, so I learned to keep my complaints to myself.
It's inevitable, High School is happening and there's nothing I could do about it. Randomly I am contacted by my Aunt who informs me that her Husband would come to town and help me prepare. She states that he'd take me shopping for school clothes and possibly lunch. I believe she also instructed me to inquire about the spending limit up front. That way my eyes aren't bigger than my limit and I'm not disappointed or expecting more than what he was willing to contribute. He arrives and is extremely nice, I'd never met anyone in person who was that nice to me. Initially I was speechless, he began by asking questions and finding out who I was, he asked what I wanted to be when I grew up. If I'm not mistaken, no one had ever actually asked me that before.
#Fun #Fact: I always have my guard up, since I was a child, with everyone. It gets lowered as trust is established, however it rises when the trust, loyalty, etc shows signs of weakness. So i observe and share when i feel like I'm ready, typically I don't volunteer information, if you want to know something, ask me directly. If its none of your business or i'd rather not share, I've learned how to let you know (as nicely as i possibly can). I try not to be a burden on people, I've felt that way for much of my life, so I developed this motto, "I'll figure it out" and I usually do (sometimes the hard way). However, if i don't know something i have learned to first research, then ask questions. Trouble is, a lot of people tend to hoard information, as if sharing what they know will somehow diminish or they honestly don't know and possibly chose not to bother finding out. Thankfully, you have those who happily give their knowledge without the invisible strings attached. Okay, back to the story...
I felt in my heart that I was safe, up until that point I'd rarely felt that. I understood in that moment it was best that I "open up" and share my thoughts honestly. I went on and on about my goals and dreams; and I truly felt supported. No different than when I spent time with my Aunt. She'd come to town and I'd be her co-pilot, she'd even allow me to back the car out and drive short distances at a very young age. I felt as if the nurturing, care and concern was extended to me in the same manner as they gave to their children.
It was actually during the conversation with my Uncle, I mentioned how much I hated my first name. I expressed to him the fact that I no longer identify with who that name represents. The main reason I dislike it is because of the prejudice associated with it, many people don't even try to pronounce it correctly, so I spend unnecessary time, effort and energy correcting people on something as simple/basic as my name. There's some who compliment it and say how "beautiful" it is while the majority assume that I am "ghetto" and a bunch of other things they'd dare not say to my face. I've also noticed, some say it as a form of harassment, as if they know its a button to push and they're dying to find out what happens if I really get "turnt up". I am not her and she is not me. It was in that conversation "Kamille" was embraced. He shared with me the thought that I could be whomever I decided to be, and not to allow anyone to tell me differently. I left his presence and knew I'd never be the same.
On our shopping spree I purchased clothes that said I was serious about my future with a couple of "fun" pieces for the inner child to be happy. I'm on cloud 9, replaying this blissful day over and over in my mind. That was until I returned to my reality... Everyone questioned my purchases and said they were "too dressy" just to go to school. While the name issue was a whole other beast. Some refused to honor my request, some still don't to this day and that was what? 20 years since my initial request. Eventually, it was clear to me, "Kamille doesn't belong here". So I found ways to escape this depressing life that seemed to go nowhere except to repeat what those around me had done. Not to say that they did anything "bad" or "wrong", it was just that their idea of "making it" or "good enough" was/is vastly different from mine. Kind of like the whole "started from the bottom" mentality.
#MyTwoSense: Some people really believe that they've arrived prematurely. I know the direction that I'd like to see my life take, however I know the direction that is ordained for me is far greater than I could "ask or think" (see Ephesians 3:20 and 1 Corinthians 2:9). So I strive to learn daily, I've always been "in my head" and I over-analyze so I must figure things out, starting with myself. The day I'll believe I've "arrived" should be the day I leave this Earth for good, as @oprah says "I want to leave here saying 'I did that thing'" or the song "I was here" by @beyonce. I just believe if I've gotten to the point that I've learned, shared and done everything I am placed here to do, it's time for me to go not run around announcing my "arrival" (see Matthew 25: 1-30).
Let's fast forward about hmmm 2 or 3 years, so I'm just getting by, school is a bore and means nothing to me. So I'd go to breakfast with a friend or two, then we'd set off to explore the city, hit the beach or chill at someone's house. It was relaxing and we'd find new things to learn and/or experience. So I found happiness in the hours spent at my real school, Life.
For whatever reason, I come to the conclusion that my antics won't lead to graduation, I had an "after-school" job at a hair salon so in my mind, I was okay for now, then what? I decided to get my shit together, I'd began attending my classes and even started going on Saturday's. I'm focused, determined to succeed, then what? Drama of course -insert classic sigh & eye roll combo-
One evening I'm home, chilling in the living room. In walks my cousin who is upset about something and unnecessarily starts talking to me disrespectfully. I began with care and concern to get him to calm down, when that didn't work my mouth took over, and I said whatever I felt like I wanted to say. Here's the trouble with that "I say how I feel and they just better accept it" mindset, it leaves room for the recipient of your "verbal abuse" to up the ante, now it's the game of who's crazier. Well, he pulled a gun on me (true story). What did I do? Of course I kept talking O_o (talk about someone not knowing when to quit smh yet I still haven't mastered that, I've learned it in words, but not in actions). So once the word is out, I'm forced to move with my Aunt in Las Vegas.
To my surprise I feel like a new person, I recognize that I was happy. I'd arrive to school early and began receiving "A's" again! I made new friends and even got a part-time job. If I'm not mistaken I was embraced as "Kamille" everywhere I went, because that's who I introduced myself as. I am a firm believer in addressing people accordingly; for example if I continue to address someone as "stupid", "ugly", "bitch", "ni**a", etc eventually that's what they will answer to; even worse, that may be who they will become. You know the saying "I created a monster"? Welp.... Words are more powerful than many truly believe, which is why, if a person asks that you address them a certain way, or refrain from calling them certain "names" it would be in your best interest to do so, before you wake the monster you may not be equip to handle. I digress.
So now I'm feeling good, family situation is lovely, grades are back to MY normal, money in the bank, oh, and i'd gotten accepted into some program at school (i don't recall the details, i just remember being elated when i received the call), but my boo was still in LA. I'd invite friends as well as my boyfriend to come visit me, yet for some reason I'd always have to come to LA if I wanted to spend time with them. So I'd frequently buy a ticket and fly in for the weekend, I feel as if its the best of both worlds. I guess I was 16 or 17 at the time so to say things were perfect would be an understatement. I'm sure you can guess what happens next? Yep, drama!
Without going into detail I return to LA and this time I move in with my Dad.... lol let the games begin.
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