Me, not so put togetherβ¦.
Oh, I make myself so mad! I can complete a four-panel interview with a smile and have the whole team laughing. I can exit the building smiling at everyone. I can bravely acknowledge the elderly man staring with, βHi! How are you?β Him: βBetter. Iβm getting there.β Me: βYou look good.β Him: βYou too!β I flash my huge smile, strut in my heels glad to make someoneβs day and in the next 15 seconds fall β¦.actually, I surmise that the ground came up to meet me. Knees scratched, palms tingling, phone cracked, portfolio wide open and my heels off my feet, I look up to find people helping me to my feet.
Me: βJust give me a minute. How did I fall?β One stranger, female: βThese cracks in the pavement. You probably stepped in one.β Me, shaking my head: βOnly me. Thank you, I am fine. All my cuteness gone, ego bruised.β Her: βWe all do it.β Me to self: βNot me. Who falls just outta nowhere?β All three women hugged me, strangers pitying the Black woman with the deep blonde inner roots.
For all the grass that is green! Β I feel as though my guardian angel is indulging in her comedic efforts to grab my attention. For what reason, I am unsure. Pride shattered, I gathered all of me together and sat in my car until my world righted to strong, independent, confident Michelle. I wanted to blast Mary J. Blige and Chrisette Michele on the drive back but I had to listen to my GPS to get back home. Change and newness does not welcome into my spirit so readily. Clumsily confident, that is me.

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