pedestals and perception

I pray that God release people from the shackles of feeling the need to remove me from the pedestals they placed me on when I never asked to be there.

Recently, I started my podcast, Divine Intervention, which has been a breath of fresh air regarding where I currently am in life. The transition from college to the workforce has been a whirlwind experience, and as I learn, I realize that this phase of my life will be dedicated to learning how to navigate myself.

During my episode, Grounded & Rooted in You, I talked deeply about how I've spent most of my life struggling to navigate others. I went into spaces, situations, relationships, and opportunities, prepared to navigate through other people's mess while placing my own to the side. Now, I use the word mess to describe emotions, dynamics, and, honestly, anything that comes with interpersonal communication and working with others towards a collective goal. I prioritized the comfort of other people and left my needs to the side, genuinely believing that they would be kind enough to ask me as I asked them.

After taking time for myself, I realized that the true birthplace of this space, my blog and podcast, was created before I even knew it existed. It was created back when I was growing up in the Mississippi Delta, when I would journal about my day and write poems and songs about the things on my mind. This space was created when I submitted poems to literary magazines under an alias in middle school and spent my days listening to music and building stories and worlds in my head while teaching myself yoga and gymnastics in my backyard. This space is a result of being tired of waiting for others to see me, being courageous enough to see myself, and being bold enough to dare anyone who wishes to take a peek into the inner workings of my thoughts.

For a long time in my life, I thought I struggled with pedestals and perception. Pedestals represent the reality of growing up as a little Black girl who was called smart or intelligent before you truly understood the weight of holding the title. When I first picked up a book, it wasn't to score high, but to escape into a world where my reality no longer existed. Over time, I fell in love with storylines, plots, and characters and began building worlds of my own.

Perception, to me, represents the assumptions, ideals, and expectations placed on an individual based on someone else's belief of who you are or what their vision allows them to see. Since I was younger, I was always told who I was. I never really felt like I was allowed the space to exist as myself. I was always seen as extensions of other people, or simply as the academic awards I received. The parts that people labeled as "good" were allowed to stay, and they soon transformed into the very thing I was later insulted for. And the parts labeled "bad" were tucked away for only me to experience in sweet solitude.

I thought I struggled with pedestals because I always seemed to find myself placed on one, whether I wanted to or not. Growing up, I remember adults and other kids feeling the need to humble me and show me I wasn't as smart as I believed myself to be. I was smart when it was convenient for others, but I could never say those words about myself because then I'd be seen as vain.

Being a high achiever, I was consistently placed in groups or conversations that I didn't resonate with. I have repeatedly had to sit through, " You should really rest. You work so much all the time," and "You're always reading or doing something. You should really take a break." I've heard many lectures on burnout, been given advice I've never asked for, and have been frequently told that I "aim for perfection," which was enough to make me believe I had a problem I've never identified with. Frequently, I have been told that I crave perfection when it was a goal I never set for myself, but a goal others believed for me to have for myself.

It gets to a point when it genuinely starts to feel infuriating, like the world is set on defining me for me, and for a long time, I allowed it.

I understand that some gentle touches come from a place of care, but often, I feel subjected to conversations that are the equivalent of someone telling you about yourself while simultaneously knowing nothing about you or even caring enough to ask. I began my own personal journey with mental health and disconnected my self-worth from my achievements in middle school, so each conversation after this self-realization just felt like a conversation to endure rather than a genunine hand for help. I began my journey early because I noticed that my whole identity was attached to this idea of being "smart," and no one ever asked about my favorite color, TV show, or what I genuinely liked to do. Whenever someone wished to insult me, my intelligence was also the first thing to be attacked. This is probably why, even as an adult, nothing frustrates me more than when people first meet me, and my resume is the first thing they wish to discuss. Quite frankly, I feel like my personal interests are much more facilitating than an internship or the many areas I've studied. If you ask me, my interests behind the studying are what make it worthwhile.

But the irony isn't in the lectures. The irony is that people give speeches and advice when they actually don't mean it. They tell you not to tie your identity to accolades while simultaneously making your accolades the foundation and center of their perception of you. It wins first place in each conversation and briefly follows every introduction. Our society's value system makes it hard not to conform to allowing achievements and external validation to consume you. It is the core of their idea of who you are, and they expect you to beam at their compliments, while also listening sternly to their lectures on self-worth.

Throughout college, one of my largest struggles was understanding how one can act unaware of how ingrained this is. You can try to cover it with false self-care conversations, but until the society we live in changes, conversations are empty promises. We can start there, but surely, I won't be satisfied if that is where it ends. Words that aren't backed by action are simply gestures to seem kind, and that does more for your subconscious than anyone else. It creates a moral blanket to cover the conversation and make you feel less materialistic or vain than if it were never mentioned.

I left conversations feeling like I had problems to solve when the problems were never ones I had for myself, but ones given to me by other people's idea of who I am. There are so many friendships and relationships I've been in where the primary topic of conversation would be my "work habit" and how I need to "stop doing so much," when I was doing perfectly fine. My frustration has never come from the work I do, but the people I have to engage with in order to do it. It is interacting with people who think they know me without having a conversation or even caring enough to see me beyond the mold they mentally created for me to live in.

I frequently feel weighed down by conversations and projections rather than the weight of my personal projects or efforts. My writing, photography, poems, stories, and community work are my purpose. I do the things I do because I love them, not because I'm searching for a medal or driven by external validation. I am blessed enough to be actively working towards my goals, and it feels like a gift given to my soul for being on this earth and navigating my time here. I don't aim for perfection, but to know that I tried my best and put my best foot forward is all I've ever needed for myself. I just need people to understand that I don't need to be managed, but simply allowed to exist.