The Ramblings Inside my Creative Mind: Once You've Seen One Black Sheep ...

          Are you there, blog? It's me, Asia. It's been more than a little while and I have no excuses for you. There is no excuse for not keeping up here or with my creativity in general. I do come to you today with another post pulling back the layers of myself. 

        It gets tiresome to be the forgotten. As you can see that even I, myself, can forget me just as so many others do. That's been my life for as long as I can remember. "Oh, sorry we forgot" could very well be my middle name with as many times as I've heard it. That has had a profound effect on my realtionships, especially when it comes to family. Friends come and go and it's a little easier to go your separate ways than it would be with family. It gets tricky to part ways when you feel like you don't belong, are frequently forgotten about, or abandonded. 

        Summer has come to an end and fall has been pretty warm so far, but that's not saying much when you're still in the middle of a pandemic. Things have been a little more lax this year and some have gone back to normal and most of us are still a little more cautious. With that been said, on my father's side my family had a family reunion for the 4th of July. I was fortuante enough to find out once the pics were posted to social media after the fact. Whether or not I would have gone is unknown and will never be known since I wasn't even given a chance to accept or decline and invite. I've tried to go ever since my father passed. He died two weeks before the reunion in the year he passed and I really wanted ro go since he had his heart set on that one after missing many the years prior due to his health. I did it that year for him and every year since. This year would've been the first reunion without my uncle who passed last year. He was the one who, in my opinion, kept the family together. Now it could be that I was overlooked. My uncle was usually the main one to organize the reunions so it was new to the family members that set this one up. Or it could be that someone thought "She hasn't come out to anything else this year so she won't show up." Either excuse that it may be hurts either way. It's either that I was completely not thought of at all or someone thought that it wasn't worth the effort. It makes me reflect on why I'm always the forgotten one and how can I change that, whether it be to change a few things within myself or cut loose people who don't want me around anyways.

        When it comes to family that answer is easy. Growing up I was always taken to be around my mother's family so I really I didn't really have the opportunity to develop a bond from childhood with my dad's family. I'm the oddball out anytime I'm around that side of my family, but still feel all the love from my aunts and uncles no matter what. When it comes to my mom's side it all boiled down to vanity, in my opinion. I was the nerdy one who kept to herself and liked creative things. I think around a family of mostly women who cared more about beauty over brains nobody knew what to do with me. I'd be left out of things, poked fun at, and ultimately became the strong black sheep that I am today. 

        I was often jealous, growing up, of my my cousins who had my grandmother's sister as their grandmother because I saw how she interacted with them. She encouraged them and joked with them not AT them. Overall, she seemed easier to love and open up to. That's not to say they weren't riddled with their own issues like everyone else, but I never got the feeling like my cousins felt left out, judged, abandonded, or ridiculed. They had the relationship with her that was what you would see on a family sitcom where at the end of the 30 minutes the grandmother would hug her grandchild, tell them how much she loved them and that she'll always be there when needed. I wanted that, but I wasn't fortunate to feel that loved.

        When it comes to being forgotten by friends it boils down to family. My mom's family had a habit of promising activies with my cousins and I and I wait and wait only to later find out that my cousins were taken out and I was left behind waiting. Now this did not happen all of the time, but enough to leave a permanent sting that, to this day, still impacts my current relationships with friends. I have two extremes. If I make plans with a friend I'll either badger them on if they're sure they want to go to whatever we have planned. Just needing that constant reassurance that they won't flake out. The other extreme is I'll cancel because I assume that the other person will. Might as well beat them to the punch. 

        The methods I have been trying to take in not being forgotten that involve my own changed behavior is I've been attempting to be more engaging, as much as I can since I am still very shy. Meeting new people (as comfortably as I can with Covid and all) and overall be present. The changes I can make outside of myself is to cut out those who add nothing to my life. For example, I had a friend who would have me as, what I like to call, the "trauma friend". I'd only be reached out to, for the most part, if she had something traumatic going on. Parents made her feel shitty, husband wasn't engaging with their son, problems with the in-laws, etc? I was on speed dial/text. Something fun happens like a girls night or a lunch date with friends I'd only see the pics posted on social media. I'd hardly get invited to things like this unless the friends or coworkers of her's we were around were dressed down, but to the outings where everyone was dressed to the nines with their hair and makeup done, I was never included. Then when it cames down to issues I would endure I'd get cut short. That friendship got left in 2020. Other's like it got left behind as well. I'm not someone's part time friend or that's only your friend when it's convenient, especially if we consider each other best friends. Same goes for family. I am not a blood is thicker than water type of person. I cannot let bad behavior slide just because we are related and I damn sure can't stick around if I voice that a certain behavior is toxic and you still continue to do it. 

        I embrace being the black sheep because in some ways it has made me who I am today. I have the ability to be self aware because of it. I have been able to take that which has hurt me an turn it into tools to learn from so that I do not act with the same behavior. The last thing I would want to do is make someone feel forgotten or unloved. I am human and I know there are times where I screw up as well. The point is to learn from that and to correct it and not make it an ongoing acceptable behavior. 

Until next time my fellow black sheep

-Asia Aneka Anderson, 2021 (c)

The Ramblings Inside My Creative Mind: From One to Three

        2020 has been a hard year for many, if not, all of us. Even if, like me, 2020 has given you numerous blessings, it goes without saying that this year has been nothing short of chaotic. With this year being so clouded with illness, death, and uncertainty I  still managed to make this one of my best years in the past, at least, eight years. I started January with a new job, that allowed me to work from home, once this whole pandemic blew up. I couldn't imagine working at my previous job, in a retail pharmacy, once Covid was at it's height. The amount of people I can imagine me yelling at for not having on a mask or social distancing is enough to make my head spin. I also managed to grab my degree, although I am bummed that I didn't get to have a graduation. I was really looking forward to that after all the hard work I had put in. I finally finished my novel and hope to find a publisher very soon. Also, on my birthday, in October, I got a fur baby. A little hamster that I named Lady Samwise Hamgee.

        One of the most memorable moments came from one of tragedy. Unfortunately, on October 1st I lost my favorite uncle to covid. It was a shock, and still is, almost two months later. One day after his funeral I get a facebook message saying "Hey, I think you're my sister." It was from my half brother that I hadn't see since I was about 12 years old, and even then that was the only time I had ever seen him. He had heard of our uncle's death through his mom finding the obituary and unfortunately through that they learned of our dad's death. We talked for a while on the phone and pretty much introduced ourselves. I got to hear about him, his life, and about his family. It made me sad that my dad didn't get to meet his grandkids or even more so that my brother didn't know about our dad's death. I didn't know where to look, didn't know his mother's name, or if they even still lived locally, but I still made a point to add him into our dad's obit, because, in my life or not, he was family. To add to that I also have a half sister. I had never met her (but always knew about her), but my brother was determined to find her as well, which in a matter of a few days, he had. Earlier this month I had the great opportunity to meet with them and some of their families. I'm an aunt to 12 nieces and nephews and I'm no longer an only child. Now I'm the baby. I'm so amazed at how my family seemed to grow overnight. I wish we had all met at a better time when the world wasn't under so much fear, but there's no better time in the present. I'm already psyched to go visit my brother at his home in SC once Covid is over and hopefully meet all of my sister's kids as well. I hate that it took the death of my uncle to finally connect with my siblings, but it was definitely a light in something that was really dark. Finding my big bro and sis was a big, if not the biggest, highlight of my year. I feel like a part of me that was missing is full now. I know my dad is probably glad that we all found each other. I know that he made that moment possible and I thank him for that. 

- Asia Aneka Anderson, 2020(c)

Day 305: It's my mama's birthday today. Happy happy birthday to a person to deserves the world!!! 🎉🎉🎉 #2015 #365DaysOfHappy #HappyGoals

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"Only God Can Judge" And Other Rules Supposed Christians Break

My entire life I’ve grown up hearing a lot of negative things out of the mouths of people I care about. “Why is that girl wearing that?”, “What is going on with your hair?”, and “Damn, they’re fat.” are things I heard them say about people all the time. As a child I saw it as normal, although in the back of my mind I knew something was off about it.
           I come from an extended family who consider themselves Christians and wondered why they were the people I heard most negative things from. I often heard them say hurtful things about people and laugh as though their words had no negative impact.  I grew up feeling inadequate because of it, I’ll admit. I never felt food enough. As a kid I was very scrawny so the fat comments didn’t come until much later, but back then I was (still am) different. When I was a kid I was just devoted to being me. I didn’t want to conform to whatever normal was and most certainly didn’t want to follow the bumpy road of sticking to a stereotype. I had no idea that I was straying away from “normal” I was busy doing things that made me happy. I was always reminded that I was weird and I could never understand why I was always made the outcast. As I got older I tried to keep my distance from them. I’d go to family functions, say the minimal, crack a joke or two, but mainly just kept to myself as not to bother people with my weirdness. I did anything and everything to keep from being noticed.
        Now that I’m a bit older I’m more irritable. I have no patience for people’s judgmental bullshit. With the passing of my aunt last month (and even many months before that with my aunt was in and out of hospitals) my mother and I have been spending a lot of time with my grandmother. I’ve noticed more and more that I have to keep telling her how her words can affect people. We’ll be out and she’ll comment on someone’s weight, although she’s overweight herself. If something comes up about homosexuality she calls them “funny” and trans people are “its”. Every time I have to correct her and let her know that you don’t know what the hell people are going through to pass your judgement on them. People are overweight because it’s fun. I have to tell her “What if that person suffers from PCOS and it trying their best to lose? What if that woman gave birth to a still born child last year and is overeating to cope? What if that person you’re calling fat was actually 100lbs heavier months ago and is starting to feel good about the weight they lost and people like you come around to ruin their high?” I usually only get a chuckle and an “Okay, Asia. Okay.” as a reply, but it’s not funny and my words to get grown people to be compassionate should not be chuckled at. That just tells me that my words are invalid and others feelings are even more invalid. There are a few people in our family that has battled with eating disorders. The rest all want to blame society and peer pressure as to why these few went down that path, but I always felt that it’s possible the beauty standards in our society contributed to that, but I’m pretty sure 80% of that blame should be placed on family, because I know how they made me feel. Other people can’t make you feel as horrible as your own family can.
          Most would like to brush things like this off as “Sometimes older people are set in their ways and are going to say and do things that we’d consider rude.” I don’t think so. For instance, I’m 32. This isn’t recent behavior. I have witnessed this for all of my 32 years and it’s the same hurtful rude comments. As far as I’m concerned I don’t think people should use the age thing as a scapegoat. As an adult you should be aware that the things you say can hurt feelings if  they are heard (and even if they aren’t). People should especially be aware if it’s brought to their attention time and time again. Being a product of my environment I’d be lying if I said I didn’t do these cruel things I mention. It’s what I grew up with and it’s what I know, although I was more aware of the things I said whereas my family was not. I still slip every now and again. I’m human. My only difference is I keep these thoughts to myself and don’t make them out loud and within earshot like my grandmother does.
          The post is in no way to take a poke at Christians. I have a habit of coming up with tongue in cheek titles for things I write. It has more to do with my observation of people who call themselves devout Christians who go to church every Sunday, but sin more than the rest of us the other six days of the week. I was always fascinated by that. Seeing that throughout my life is probably what made me want to be agnostic. I also know that just because a person may be judgmental that doesn’t make them any less Christian. In closing I hope no one gets the impression that I might be harsh on my grandmother after she just recently lost a daughter. I just try to let her know that she may not know that the people she criticizes may be going through what she just went through or some other tragedy and shouldn’t be made fun of because of their appearance.


-Asia Aneka Anderson
Tumblr: AsiaWrites 

How Do I Cope?

I don’t know how to handle the death of someone that you weren’t really that close to. Sometimes I feel as though I don’t have the right to be sad about it. My aunt and I were never super close. From the time I was a child I always felt that her and my grandmother favored my older and younger cousin more. It made me understand the “middle child syndrome” all too well even though I’m an only child. I was/am often the one that was left out or forgotten about, but that’s all I’ve ever known. Even with all that said she never got a chance to have children and we were the next best thing. I will admit that being treated as the black sheep I harbored some resentment towards this side of my family. I didn’t feel the need to care about a group of people who I thought cared very little about me.
       During the last few months of her life we still never became too close, but I felt like I got a chance to understand her more than I had my entire life. I was shocked to find that underneath it all we had a lot more in common than I realized. The last few months of her life was spent in and out of hospitals until the week after Thanksgiving where she never got to go back home. All that time I was at the hospital almost everyday along with my mother. I saw how much our lives paralleled while being complete opposites. We both had meddling mothers who meant well, but will drive the most patient person fucking insane. Most days would be laughs because at some point my grandmother would say something completely redundant or simple and my aunt would look at me and say “You see what I deal with everyday?” All I would do is laugh, point to my mother and say “Same thing.” In between these days of laughter would come the occasion days where she’d be completely silent. For months doctors told her there wasn’t anything more they could do and some days I could tell those words probably swirled around in her head repeatedly. I’m never the optimistic person, but I always hoped something would turn for the better. Because of my mindset I never fully understood why other family members wore long faces. I reminded them that they were the ones who were religious. They should be the ones with the hope yet I felt like I was on that hope cloud alone.
         Everyday I went to the hospital I couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. Even if I didn’t say much, which I never do, I couldn’t imagine not being there as some sort of support. For the last week or more that she was in the hospital her health as well as her spirit declined. She was diagnosed March of 2013 and the whole time she fought hard, but those last weeks she kept saying that she was just tired. I can only imagine. I watched as the lower half of her body swelled to almost twice her usual size. I still stayed hopeful. Soon representatives spoke of hospice and everyone was in my ear telling me that hospice meant death. Still I remained hopeful. Looking back I’m not sure if I was hopeful or just in denial. Before the talk of hospice she once mentioned that she wished she could see her home one last time. My heart broke. This was a simple wish that most people don’t even have to worry about. She was soon moved to hospice where she started off energetic and again I was hopeful she’d be home in a weeks time. That was the plan after all. After about 4 days in hospice she became unresponsive. She was breathing and would move every now and again, but couldn’t talk, and her body temp was burning hot. I was still hopeful until nurses told us that when patients usually become that hot it was because their brain was shutting down. That was a hard blow. Just days ago she was joking and walking around and now this.
        On the morning she died my mother and I went to the house my aunt shared with my grandma to grab her some clothes so she could stay by my aunt’s side. While there I made it a point to take pictures of every room in the house. When we arrived to her bedside I showed her the pictures on my phone not knowing if she could see them or not. I told her “I know you said you wanted to see home one last time and I’m sorry that this is only as close as I can get you there.” Later that afternoon my younger cousin flew in from out of town. My grandma, uncle, and I drove to the airport to get her (which was pretty far from hospice). The moment we all walked back into her room my aunt took her last breath. It was like something out of a movie where we got there just in time. It was unreal to see someone who had just taken their last breath and see almost immediately their color leave their body. I didn’t know how to react. Even though this was an event we all knew was coming I never thought it would actually happen.
        I tried to keep the sadness inside, but I completely broke. Crying is something I never do in public even though I’d label myself a very sensitive and emotional person. I hadn’t grown up around emotion. I often identify with the age old “men aren’t supposed to cry” saying because even as a woman, although it wasn’t said I felt like I had to hide my sensitivity. One of my early memories as a child was watching “The Land Before Time” with my parents and weeping when Littlefoot’s mom died. I’ll never forget my mom looking at me and in jest said “Are you really crying?” From that moment on whenever I felt emotion rush over me in public I sucked it up and tucked it down deep. That’s why the death of my aunt has me in a sort of depression. The night she passed I literally couldn’t sleep. All I saw when my eyes closed was her lifeless body. My family looked at me like I was strange when I told them. It seems as though they should’ve understood what I was feeling, but no. I can’t really cry about it. So I ask, how do you cope? How do you grieve for someone who you didn’t have a close bond with and at one point was certain didn’t care about you? I’m sure that’s all in my head, but it doesn’t make the feeling go away.
        The day of her memorial service I was certain that I would be fine. We all decided cremation was better (and cheaper since she didn’t have life insurance) so I didn’t have to stare at a box with my aunt lying in it. Halfway through the service I was okay, but one of my aunt’s close friends got up and sang a gospel song called “I Won’t Complain” which was fitting since my aunt hardly complained during her illness. The power of this woman’s voice and the words made me break slowly and once I saw my younger cousin crying I held her and just wailed. I couldn’t hold it any longer. I didn’t realize how loud I must’ve been, but I couldn’t stop. Moments later I looked up and saw my family, who were also crying, give me that weird look. Wipe my tears, suck it up, and push it down deep. Nothing needed to be said all I needed were the stares that made me feel so small and out of place.
        When the service was over the packed church went into the dining hall to eat and catch up with long lost family and friends. When most people had eaten and gone the weeks events kept replaying in my head and I felt scared, alone, and down. Another old friend/client of my aunt (my aunt was a well known hair stylist in the area), who hadn’t had a chance to catch up with me because of all the chaos, told me of a conversation she had with my aunt years ago about me. She told me of a time where my aunt was trying to do something for me but couldn’t remember what and said my aunt told her “Asia doesn’t want for anything so if this is what she wants I’m gonna make sure she gets it.” I started to remember what she was most likely talking about. When I was trying to move to Chicago in 2008 I couldn’t find an apartment because I really didn’t have any credit established nor a job (I was relocating to go to Columbia College) and everyone wanted a cosigner. I had asked her since no one else in my family was able to. I started to cry all over again. Here, I thought she favored my other cousins over me and didn’t think of me at all. Mostly I cried because she recognized that I never asked anyone for anything yet most people accuse me of being a spoiled brat. I’m someone who tries to do things for herself and doesn’t like to bug anyone for help (Hell, I lost my apartment in Chicago 2012, because I wanted to handle it on my own like an adult should. That;s how I am). She acknowledged that. I’ve waited all of my life for someone to see that and now it’s too late for me to thank her for seeing that I’m not some arrogant brat. As my eyes welled up I saw my mom just look at me. It wasn’t a look of “Are you crying again?” it was just the fact that she just looked at me then turned back around to continue her conversation with someone. So here I was alone and feeling horrible thinking that maybe I shouldn’t be this emotional. Again, we weren’t close so why would I feel this strongly about her… but I did and I felt alone in it. I still feel alone in it.
       In the weeks since her passing I’ve mentioned to my mom and grandma to seek grief counseling, although my younger cousin and I have said to them for years they need some type of therapy. I still urge so that possibly they can process these emotions openly without feeling like they have to have a guard up. Every weekend since my aunt has passed my mom and I stay with my grandma. One Sunday on the drive back home my mom broke down and said that she hated to leave my grandma alone. I didn’t know how to handle it. I never see her cry other than funerals and if I cry I’m given looks like I’m an alien so naturally when she cries I feel extremely uncomfortable. The only thing I can do is talk calmly and logically as far as comforting, that idea is foreign to me when it comes to my family. 
        I feel like I’m grieving in installments. I do it alone in my room and let you all in social media land into my feelings because I know someone out there will understand. When I enter the world I keep it tucked away. I don’t like it, but it’s what I know. No one has ever told me that crying is weak, but I have always been an observant person who doesn’t need to be told anything. I can see it all in a persons facial expressions and body language. These things and never seeing the people closest to me be emotional has told me that crying is something not done in public. You have a society out there that tells men that crying is weak, but what about women like me who have been brought up like that? I’m probably the softest person you will ever meet with the toughest exterior to get through. I’m grieving but I have a nagging feeling that tells me I shouldn’t be.

-Asia Aneka Anderson
Tumblr: AsiaWrites

Day 38: movie nights with the fam. #365DaysOfHappy #HappyGoals #Philomena #2015

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Day 16-26: #family. I only have one and I love 'em a lot lot. Since my aunt's passing last week I know that life is short and people can be taken from you so very quickly. I'll remember the good times and look forward to many more. #365daysofhappy #happygoals #2015

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Please signal boost

Guys, my aunt has been battling cancer for the past two years and she went home last night. My family and I would be very appreciative if you could help us give the send off she deserves. Thank you so very much.p
http://www.youcaring.com/memorial-fundraiser/give-mary-a-worthy-spiritual-homecoming-/292774