Here's To The New Year

2015 is the year I disappear.
It’s the year I stop living my life for other people.
It’s the year I find happiness.
It’s the year I will inspire myself and others.
It’s the year I will be grounded and humble.
It’s the year I actually live.
2015 is the year I will be free.
I’ll make sure of that.
Here’s to the new year and the blessings that may be.
Goodbye to all the hardships and loss of the past 365.
This is the year I shall shed my skin and start anew.

-Asia Aneka Anderson
Tumblr: AsiaWrites

Tragic Best Friend Tales #1

        Bestie J was a girl I met at work in Ohio. Since we didn’t work in the same department we really didn’t become close until she was about to quit. We became really close over the years and only had a few fallouts like friends usually do. It got to be a bit much for me when every fallout was over pretty much the same thing.

        The last few years of our friendship was mainly through text and social media since I had moved to Chicago. There were a few visits back home, but not many as money was very tight at the time. Two years ago money got extremely tight and I had to come back home to Ohio. J texted me that she was very excited I was coming home so that we could hang out like old times. Once I got back it really was like old times. J is one of those people who will never ask you to do something, she waits for you to contact her. So if I asked her to do something on a day she’s busy and tell her to call me when she’s free I may as well forget ever getting that call. Before I moved away from home she would either do this, or she would give me a shitload of excuses, her favorite was “I’m broke.” because apparently it costs a ton of money to have a conversation with a friend that you may not see for a while *sarcasm*. When I got back into town those same excuses resurfaced. By this time I was very depressed because of my situation and not having my friends there to take my mind off of it made me slip deeper into depression. I just felt like no one cared. I could barely eat, get out of bed, or find a reason to even get dressed. It was a horrible time for me. Two years later and I’m still trying to cope, although I am much better than what I was. In about a 6 month period J only messaged me about 3 times. I had written her off long before that. I couldn’t see myself being friends with someone who would bail when their friends were in need.  I’ll admit one of those messages was to ask how I was, but the the conversation quickly turned into her complaining about her life. Why she would complain about her stable life to someone who just lost everything is beyond me. The second message I got from her about 4 months later was to tell me she was engaged and the third message was for my address to send an invite. My best friend didn’t even ask for me to be in her wedding. I was hurt by that, but I had to remind myself that this wasn’t anyone for me to be around anymore anyways.
        I had gotten tired of excuses from J. There were far too many in our friendship. I probably wouldn’t be as upset if she gave all her friends excuses, but she’d ditch me for other people and tell me she was broke as if I wouldn’t find out it was a lie. If you’re gonna lie, fine, but don’t post pics of your nights out on FB.

        But this tale isn’t about how shifty J was. The tragic part was her last hurrah. After almost a year of not hearing a peep out of her I receive a message on Facebook from her asking why I didn’t attend her wedding. I told her that I hadn’t heard anything from her and as far as I was concerned we weren’t friends anymore. Friends are there when you need them most and she was not. I told her of the hard time I had when I returned to Ohio and all I got from her were excuses. I explained to her how I just found it hard to even keep going. Instead of trying to understand how I felt at that time she decided to twist the dagger a bit and tell me that “the phone works both ways” and that I “focus on the negative.” You’re right. My life was turned upside down. I lost my car, my home, and had to return to Ohio with and to nothing. I really should’ve had a fucking smile on my face after all that, right? What kind idiot says that to someone after something like that?

        I’m never one to focus on 100% of the bad things someone has done to me. I always give credit where credit is due. I will always appreciate that the whole time I lived in Chicago she was the ONLY person solely to come visit me and she did that twice. I will always remember that. Family never even came to visit me, but she did. But my family did comfort me when I was on the verge of giving up and J was no where to be found. I think it angered me because I expected more from her. I thought if anyone could’ve help me get through the storm I was in it would’ve been her and I was sadly mistaken and it broke my heart.

-Asia Aneka Anderson, 2014(c)
I wish I was the type of person to not let people’s actions change me. A man lies to me and I think “All men are liars.” A friend betrays me and I think “I have NO friends” even though I know I have at least one who would never harm me. I let the actions of a few people in my past harden me which makes me cold towards people who could be a part of my future. It’s not fair, but that’s how it is. I have a hard time differentiating between good and bad people so I classify everyone as bad. I’ve had so many people take advantage of me that I have my guard up constantly. I’m always irritable and moody because I don’t want people to get close enough to hurt me. I want to change this. I know deep down I am the type of person who is friendly, semi-sociable, giddy, caring, sensitive, etc, but I hide all that because I’m afraid that everyone will take advantage of my kindness. My attitude has definitely ruined possible friendships because I just don’t want to be bothered with the paranoia of “what does this person want from me?” I know that I can’t carry this baggage with me and it will be a very long process for me. This process would be easier for me if I could 100% let go of the people who did hurt me instead of sitting back with the high hopes that they’ll be the ones to change their ways. I know it won’t work like that, but I’m hanging onto the thought that it will. I should focus more on becoming a better person instead of letting these type of folks turn me into something I’m not. In the end of the day they’re focused on themselves and not worried about how their actions affect me, so why do I care so much?

-Asia Aneka Anderson
So much time spent in fear. Afraid to speak our minds. Afraid to tell others we love them. We’re so scared of rejection. I often think how much my life would be different if I had said the things I needed to say. I’ve been an outcast all of my life and the lifestyle stuck. What if I had thrown that to the wind and become an outgoing person? Would I be living where I dream of living? Would I have the career I’ve always wanted and more? Would I be married? Would my goals be completely different from what they are now? It all boils down to my fear of rejection. It keeps us from doing a lot of things. It would be nice to find the courage to take more risks. I let my mind drift and think of packing my bags and hopping on a bus to anywhere USA out of reach from everyone. I’d like to find the courage to go up to a stranger and start a conversation. I want to be that person who isn’t shaking with fear to speak in front f a crowd. I want to find that fearless side of me. It’s funny how most of us share the same insecurities yet are still afraid to acknowledge that there’s no need to be afraid of one another if we’re each dealing with these insecurities in some form. I can make promises that I’ll be without fear and my dreams lie to me and show me that it’s possible, but I know this is something that will always be apart of me. Little by little maybe I can be how I picture parallel universe me would act. More than that I hope to one day see that I am beautiful, worthy of love, worthy of all those dreams I reach for. I hope one day that everyone will see that they are unique and beautiful beings. We spend too much time in this life in our heads thinking that we are not magnificent. We indeed are. I’ll promise to find that in myself if you promise to find that in yourself. Deal?
-Asia Aneka Anderson
"Finding my path to nowhere land."

-Asia Aneka Anderson 2015©

My Struggle With Religion

I often wonder that if I believed in God my life would perhaps be much better. I look at people who go through hell, but take it in stride because they believe that in the end God is looking out for them. If I believed in God would I be where I need to be?
I’d like to believe that if God is real he looks out for those who do their best whether they’re believers or not, but that’s not a belief I hold highly. I see people who do horrible things to others, whether it be a big corporation who makes (or steals) tons of money without putting it back into communities, crooked politicians, or large groups who promote hate speech they seem to have it easy and are making millions on others pain. Yet the people who have faith can barely make ends meet, die from terminal illnesses, or run into crisis after crisis.
Although I’ve had a rough few years or more I will admit that things in my life could be far far worse. I’m not where I want to be in my life and things don’t ever go the way I plan, but I could be facing a bigger struggle than I currently am. With that knowledge I know that someone is looking out for me. Whether that is God, I don’t know. I have spirituality, but the stubbornness in me refuses to believe. When I reflect on the tiny blessings I have I stop and ask “Would these blessings be bigger if I did believe that God exists?”
I’ve had a hard time with religion all of my life. Where I come from if people claim to be Christians they are the, what I like to call, “part time Christians”. The type who will go to church every Sunday and as soon as they leave judge other people on everything from what they wear, to weight, to their sexuality. It was always confusing to me because I always thought only God could judge. That’s something I didn’t want to be apart of. I didn’t want to be a member of a community who didn’t practice what they preached. If God truly is love then where is the love?
Religion is something I know I’ll always struggle with in some way. I will always have my beliefs that everything happens for a reason, no one is given more than they can handle, and that everyone has a guardian angel. That’s as close to believing as I’ll get for the time being. The only thing I can do is try to be a good person and help others any way I can and accept all blessings that come my way, big or small.

-Asia Aneka Anderson


Dancing with the sun.
Beauty in this life shines bright.
Wrapped in happiness.

-Asia Aneka Anderson
Tumblr: AsiaWrites

Review: Now Solutions Coconut Oil

Hello, everyone!

I finally got around to making this post. I picked up the Now Solutions coconut oil about a month ago. I've been shopping around to find a coconut oil that works really well and saw this at a local health food store.
With this particular kind of coconut oil it's more of a waxy texture, but quickly and easily melts in the hand. Which I prefer over just straight liquid form. In my opinion, it doesn't give off a coconut smell like I'm used to with other oils.

You can see here that it looks more like a wax.

Here you can see it's starting to melt.

 The first few times I used this oil I used it after I would wash or co-wash my hair and then I would twist my hair afterwards. Now it took me a while to do this review because I didn't really like how it left my hair after I twisted it. I felt like it left my hair kind of dull and after a few days my hair would start to smell. The only way I would describe it was sort of a stale smell or the type of smell you would get from a plain candle after it's set for a while. It wasn't an overwhelming smell, but I could tell it was there. Last week I co-washed my hair. After I detangled I put the coconut oil on and decided not to twist my hair. It worked much better this way. It probably had something to do with my putting in a hot oil treatment also, but my hair was shinier and felt healthier. Even a few days later I wet my hair and put some of the oil on and I didn't get that dull feeling.
My hair has shine to it.

For the Now Solutions coconut oil: C+

We Can't Breathe

Blood covered sheets fill these streets.
Dead bodies everywhere.
Another mother without a son.
Another wife without a husband.
Another child without a parent.
Another human life turned into a hashtag.
A whole community gasping for air because we can’t breathe.
The cries get attention, but the message is lost.
Debates on the evening news as to who’s right and who’s wrong.
Everyone forgetting that a human life ended at the hands of another.
The people in power ignore the fact that we can’t breathe.
We walk around on eggshells.
Don’t look threatening.
Keep hands outside pockets.
Hold onto the breath you have left.
Remember that in a black man’s hands a wallet is a gun.
Sagging pants make you a drug dealer.
Asking questions make you a menace.
Our lives hold value.
Yet there’s still bloody sheets, lifeless bodies, and cries of anger.
Let. Us. Breathe.
We have been gasping for air for far too long.
How many times do we have to yell “WE CAN’T BREATHE!” until the world believes us?
I’m holding my breath until the day that we can breathe.
Just let us breathe.

-Asia Aneka Anderson
Tumblr: AsiaWrites

Am I An Object?

It’s a question I’ve been asking myself a lot lately. In most of my 32 years I don’t feel like I’ve been seen as a person. I feel like I’ve always been treated like an object or product. When I was a child around extended family it was all about looks. No one was interested in my talents, education, interests, or anything else. The women in my family are very much image obsessed. So if I gained a few pounds it was definitely noticed. If I dressed like a tomboy it was always “Why don’t you wear more dresses?”. It was always about how I looked and not who I was. That didn’t come until much later and by that point I had learned to despise these people. They started the ball rolling of me hating myself because I never felt good enough with all of their poking and prodding at my looks all the time.
As I got older it got worse on a whole other level. I developed early. And I do mean early. I was in a training bra by 8 and in a DD cup by 15. Everyone noticed. From the moment of about middle school it was very hard to tell if boys liked me for me or the size of my breasts. At 32 I’m still asking myself that very question. In high school I’d joke about my breasts with friends. I’d make boob jokes, because back then it really wasn’t a big deal to me. In a way I kind of liked the attention. Had a crush on a guy? No problem, just throw on a v-neck the next day. Might get his attention. Didn’t happen often because I was (and in some way, still am) a big tomboy. I wore the big baggy skater jeans, Sketchers or Chucks, and band or novelty tees. When I would switch it up and wear something low cut it would  DEFINITELY get attention because it was such a rarity. In my late teens and 20s I’d go hang out with friends at all the places people at that age hang out and there would always be a random guy who would want to hug me purely just to feel my breast against him. No biggie. I was used to it by then. In some weird way it made me feel powerful, like I have something these guys want.
Looking back I see that maybe I sexualized myself and not because I wanted to. I made myself believe it’s because I wanted to, but it was for the attention I got. It became a given that if I was going out then I had to put on something tight and revealing. Then it just became a habit. Now I’m at a point in my life where I sort of know what I want career wise (I’ve spent so long confused on that subject) and I want to settle down with someone that I want to be with for the rest of my life. Whether that be man, woman, or other I have no idea, but I do know I’m ready to build a life with someone. The more I try to date the more I realize I’m still attracting men who only see me as body parts. No one wants to get to know my hopes, dreams, likes, dislikes, past, or otherwise. It’s only about how they want to fuck me, what’s my bra size, and sending a collection of dick pics. Honestly I do welcome these conversations sometimes and afterwards I feel dirty. I engage in these conversations telling myself that it’s okay when really all I want a man to do is ask me about my life and to start the conversation like an adult. When I get these men to try and engage in a conversation it’s always elementary things like “What’s your favorite movie?” or “What is your favorite color?”. Nothing deep ever comes of it and I feel let down. I feel like there is absolutely no one interested in my story. No one. So I accept the dick pics and the dirty talk and move on. I obsess over what pic to make my avi. Is my makeup right? Can you see my tits? Is my hair okay? I do the same when I venture out into the world, even if it’s something simple as going to the grocery store. After all these are the only reasons that men are attracted to me, and it’s partly my fault for making them see me that way. So am I an object? Surely I am not. Surely I don’t want to be seen that way. The only way to stop others from seeing me that way is for me to stop seeing it myself. That is a work slowly in progress.
-Asia Aneka Anderson
"I’d rather fly than stand still."

-Asia Aneka Anderson 2015©

Still Mind

Keeping my life sane.
Chaos revolves around me.
Centering my mind.

-Asia Aneka Anderson
Tumblr: AsiaAneka
Been playing around with different styles and my hair ACTUALLY cooperated haha

November sunset
"Loving myself is an impossible task."

-Asia Aneka Anderson 2015©
"Worshiping faceless deities searching for faith."

-Asia Aneka Anderson 2015©
"In this universe love is infinite."

-Asia Aneka Anderson 2015©
"Gave him my heart to break."

-Asia Aneka Anderson 2015©
"Unfulfilled in the absence of happiness."

-Asia Aneka Anderson 2015©

Tragic Boyfriend Tales #5

Out of the few adult relationships I’ve had I was with boyfriend O the longest. It was no easy feat since 90% of our relationship was long distance. There were more ups than downs in this relationship, which I was grateful for. We tried our best to see each other during holidays, school breaks, and we talked every single day either on the phone or Skype. Nine months into dating I could feel him sort of pulling away. I wasn’t sure if it was due to us being in different states, because we were in an interracial relationship, or because he wasn’t ready for something really serious. One day while on Skype he casually brought up the idea of us possibly taking a break. When he saw how hurt I was he stressed that it wasn’t an end to our relationship, just a break. There wasn’t much I could do from so far away. We shelved the conversation, but I could tell he was set in his decision, but I didn’t agree with it.
That weekend I decided to hang out with someone I had been friends with on social media for years. He was a native of my new city and I thought since he knew the area and plus we went to the same school it would be cool to hang out with him. That entire day I spent with this person and decided to go watch movies with him in his dorm that evening. The whole entire time I texted boyfriend O. Although he wanted a break we still talked everyday. This day was no different. I told him about my day and who I was with and there was no problem. As the day went on the sexual tension between this guy and I kept growing. Before I knew it we couldn’t stop kissing. I finally got the nerve to back off and tell him I couldn’t, which was hard because he was an amazing kisser (I’m an asshole, I know). Still after this I didn’t leave. I stayed and we watched more movies. Later one of his friends came over and while they played video games I called and talked to O for a while, omitting the information of me making out with my new friend pretty much the whole afternoon. As the night when on the guy’s friend left and since it was too late for me to catch a bus home so I decided to stay. You can guess what happened next. I tried to make myself feel better by reminding myself that O wanted a break anyways so technically it wasn’t cheating. Didn’t work at all. I ended up crying the rest of the night and kicking myself for not taking a cab home before things got out of hand.
That next morning I went home and racked my brain how to tell O. Later that evening I Skyped him and told him everything. I’m not the type of person who likes to or wants to lie which is why I told him first chance I got. It hurt me to see him hurt, but was surprised when he said he just wanted to sleep on it. We talked about it for a few days, no arguments, just hashing out our feelings. We stayed together for 3 months after that. Part of me thinks that this incident is why we broke up, at least on his end. For me we broke up for entirely different reasons.
These tragic tales aren’t all about horrible, stupid, immature exes or crushes. They’re also about me. I’m human and I make mistakes too (not many). This is one of them and I hurt someone that I cared for. We weren’t right for each other and I somewhat knew that early on in the relationship, but I learned to care about him and he was with me through some pretty tough times. Sucks because even though a relationship with him was pretty bad we still could’ve been pretty good friends. That’s life though.

-Asia Aneka Anderson