this christmas... |letter #31|

Dear Those Little Girls Who Look Up To Me, 

Christmas is just around the corner and I wish you all the very merry best.  As we prepare for the holiday festivities of lighting up our cozy homes with bright lights and Christmas trees, stuffing our stockings, and drinking the American eggnog with family members, I send a sweet wish that this year you girls create your wish-lists with care and much consideration.  

As someone older and I would like to believe wiser, I would like to grant you a wish-list specially designed by yours truly and hope that Santa, your parents, or whomever you believe in shall grant you such.  Here are 25 things for Christmas I hope your loves give to you: 

What every girl needs: 

1. That best-friend specially designed to challenge, develop, amuse, and choose you. 
2. The ability to never leave your house without your full confidence. 
3. A clear mental camera ready to truly capture your precious moments. 
4. One heck of a purse to carry your entire life in. 
5. The resources and opportunities to live out that little dream building inside you. 
6. A diary to document all your gushy feelings not everyone deserves to know. 
7. A favorite memory to keep reliving when your sad. 
8. The knowledge to decipher when someone isn't looking out for your best.
9. The burning passion to accomplish all of your goals. 
10. Some bad shoes to walk the runway called life.
11. The ability to cook your favorite foods. 
12. A love of life that should never die out. 
13. The perfect accessory that goes with every outfit. 
14. Some mase to weed out those no good trifling little boys out there. 
15. The ability to laugh when life aims to make you frown. 
16. A desire to change the world, or at least an issue dear to your heart. 
17. An attitude, spice, and sass to remind those you stand your ground.
18. A ground to even stand on, a solid foundation to lay your nest. 
19. The hope to believe you deserve everything you work for. 
20. The confidence to know you can and will be loved by a man for everything you are. 
21. The ability to perceive those who love you and those who don't. 
22. A treasure chest called your body to protect, cater, and preserve. 
23. Long legs to walk away from those that hurt and run to those who heal. 
24. A loving family to lean on and live with and a role model to look up to. 
25. And the perfect song to define, inspire, and sweeten your journey.

Everything else will fall in place. 

Love, 

Stephanie

Courtesy of We Heart It

seriously weird... |letter #30|

Dear My Future Husband, 

I need to be completely vulnerable with you right now for like a split second and let you know that I will probably be the weirdest person you know at your present state of life. I am so freaking weird:

Why?  

I think way to much about nothing at all. I talk passionately to myself when I'm not in the mirror. I'm obsessed with salami and cheese. I laugh to myself when people fall down the stairs and smile when people tell me sad stories.  I like to bother people silly and talk gibberish with seriousness. I sit here and write about my gushy girly feelings and expect people to actually read it. I inspect my food after every bite and like feeling awkward. I don't like odd numbers just because I said so.  I make crazy facial expressions and I can't let my lips be dry for more than one second. I like it when people play with my ears. I hate it when people give me constructive criticism and I cry when I'm mad. I stare people down with a straight face and get mad if they shoot me a dirty look. I get paranoid about whether people are paying attention to me. I always vomit when I drink too fast.  I need to shower in a specific way and can't express my feelings in person for crap. I don't like it when people look at my feet and the list unfortunately goes on. 

But I like it. I like all the little quirks that make me me.  If I didn't I think I would be miserable.  I make me laugh and I think I'm actually hilarious.  So if I like me, I think you should like me to. I'm glad you already do. 

Love,

Stephanie 

Courtesy of We Heart It

look past my face... |letter #29|

Dear Those Who Do Not Who I Am, 

Here lies my piece inspired by an unknown Haitian poem: 

You asked me if I was sure I was from Ayiti

So it seems you carry this mentality

That deep down inside you believe

I do not look like I am from Haiti

Your media coverage

Shows you impoverished

Barefoot and hungry

Seeking food and water in the slums,

It paints the negative of my cultural drums

In a light of despair.

But beautifully

There is more to my country than slums, hunger and poverty

Your idea and concept of me

Is not what I have proven to be,

Accent on my tongue and pride in my eyes,

Yes, I am a product of Ayitis thighs

But still I don't look, sound or act Haitian?

Is it my style of dance that has you in awe?

Have you never seen a Haitian dance kompa before?

Have you never seen passion as raw as mine?

And dark night beauty as culturally fine?

Or is it Haiti’s first black independence that has you so timid?

Don’t let your perception have you so limited.

Look past my face, dark, light or distinct,

Look past my hair, straight, curled or kinked,

Look past your own mentality

But gaze into my heart and you will see,

That my nationality is defined in three letters and that is

I E T!

"I am Haitian not only because I was born mentally in Haiti, but because Haiti was born in me."

Love, 

Stephanie 

Courtesy of We Heart It

ten more things i'm too afraid to say... |letter #28|

Dear Those in My Past, Present, & Future,

1. Somewhere inside, I want to rebel against my ways. 
2. I've been looking for something that I found with someone else already. 
3. I feel like that end time is close and it's hard to feel like it hasn't been a waste of time. 
4. I'm conflicted on who I should be, who I want to be, and who I am. 
5. Some part of me wants to live that rich, famous, fast life. 
6. I'm not a sweet as I used to be for good reason. 
7. I'm terrified of losing any one of my family members. 
8. I'm scared of never reaching what I see as success. 
9. Sometimes I struggle with high self-doubt. 
10. I can be very pessimistic. 
    
    
    
    

Love, 

Stephanie

Courtesy of We Heart It

just make me smile already... |letter #27|

Dear Anyone Who's Willing to Listen, 

Today's has't been my day. I feel like I'm experiencing the aftermath of everything that has been occurring  the past week horribly.  My best friend and I got into a fight, family is in chaos, I broke one of my vows, I had the worst goodbyes, I took annoying finals, and my car is acting crazy. 

Okay, let me stop being so depressing. It has not been all that bad. I experienced good too, maybe a even a little too good. Yet, the emotional roller coaster of this week has left me dead, tweaking, and unusable. It sucks to compare your life to other people. I am in no way going through some of the unfortunate situations others around are. I'm not broke, starving, or orphaned. I can afford school and can achieve an education. On top of that, I can enjoy life with spontaneous trips around the world and random getaways. I don't have to worry about tomorrow and stress about yesterday. In the end, I'll get over it. I always do.  So what am I complaining about?

 Honestly, all I wanted was to share how I felt deep inside.  I wanted someone to smile gently when I pout and hug me when my shoulders slouch. I wanted someone to tell me it was going to be alright not because other people have it worse but because I have it good.  Honestly, all I wanted was for someone to listen. So thank you to you.

Love, 

Stephanie

Courtesy of We Heart It

i still have something to say... |letter #26|

Dear Me, 

How often do I shoo away the things I love? I love to write, yet I haven't written my own words in months.  To be honest, I'm sure it would have helped me get through much of what I experienced the last five months of silence.  However, I refuse to focus on what I can't change. I mean, I'm writing now aren't I?

Seriously, how is it so easy for me to neglect what I love? Baking cookies at midnight, running during sunrise, illustrating in a quiet room, reading during a thunderstorm exemplify the simple things that can bring people joy.  Yet too often I am caught up with this metaphor called life and forget these details that make me happy.

Bottom line: I need to be writing because this just made me happy inside. 

Love, 

Stephanie 

Courtesy of We Heart It

plain old short facts... |letter #25|

Dear Me, 

Real girls aren't perfect and perfect girls aren't real.


As confident as I strive to be, I still have weaknesses, insecurities, and doubts. As deadly as it is, as a female, I will still subconsciously compare myself to another female.  The first step is admitting it because denial is just as stifling.  But the second step is reminding myself how amazing and unique I really am.  In the end, there will always be someone who will be better at something than I am.  There will always be someone who is smarter, prettier, wiser, and even a better writer.  That is simply realistic.  However, never should I think that that makes me any less than how talented I am.  As cliche as it sounds, no one else in this world is composed of my internal makeup. These thoughts are often triggered by my insatiable desire to be close to perfect at everything that I do.


But like I said before, real girls aren't perfect and perfect girls aren't real. 

Love, 

Stephanie

Courtesy of We Heart It

i met you in the men's restroom... |letter #24|

Dear My Future Husband,

Tell me, what did you think of me the moment you first laid eyes on me?  Outside of my physical appearance, did you take me as someone who was incredibly shy?  Hopefully, if I have not met you already I will have outgrown that stage of my personality by then. Or, did you believe I was a nerd?  Most likely, you may have thought I was mysterious as I tend to be very quiet about what nuisances go on in my brain in the beginning.  Also, you can tell me if what you thought of me was negative because I have undoubtedly changed your first impression being that I am now your wife.  Lest, hopefully I pray I passed the first test. 

Most importantly, how in the world did we meet?  (This is more fun if I still don't know you by the way). So tell me, was I the girl you walked past in grocery store and hopefully made you do a double take down the aisle or did you first see me seated in the window seat next to yours on the plane peacefully reading a long novel?  More to my enjoyment, did I accidentally hit you with my car when I was backing out of my driveway as you did your morning jog? Or, did I crash into you as I ran across the platform to catch the last minute subway?

To be honest, I always imagined meeting you in some outrageously accidental way similar to to stories of my fantasy characters I created as a young girl.  For an example, Ava, a long lost princess, mets her Mr. Right when she irrationally dresses like a boy (long story that I hope I told you already) and collides into him running into the men's restroom while he was exiting.  This is not to say that I will be encountering you in a men's restroom (I'm not that desperate), but let's just say I've always wanted it to be something I would never forget. 

Love,

Stephanie

Courtesy of We Heart It

it's not that complicated... |letter #23|

Dear Long-Lost-Love, 

I thought about you today, even though I didn't want to.  I couldn't help but think how much I miss you.  I can't seem to get away from the fact that still, no one ever makes me feel the way you make me feel.  I try so hard to let you go, but honestly, I really love you.  Don't get hard-headed.  Let me make this clear.  I am currently diagnosed with heartache with symptoms including weakness, vulnerability, irrationality, and frustration.  Therefore, don't think that this is step up on your ladder to hear the girl who needs to neglect you for several months at a time confess that inside it kills her not to be with you.

Courtesy of sleepyjeanie

Courtesy jessica.garro

Quite frankly, I'm just being honest. I would do anything to wrap hands once again and feel the electric sensation of our touch.  How I miss those nights where we would fall asleep to the sound of each other's voices.  I miss our in depth conversations about everything and nothing and the shy innocent way you turn peach when you blush.  I wish I could take you away to my own world where we would simply be.  I wish I was back living in your familiar embrace and existing in the terrains of your mind. I miss how scary I felt connected to your soul.  It scares me that I still feel that way.  More so, it scares me that I won't be able to feel this funny way and find this unexplainable connection between us with someone else one day.

Courtesy of akshay moon

Courtesy of Jane Rahman

You make me so mad because I wish you never complicated things. You should have never seduced me into your intellect and invaded my space in the first place.  I was perfectly happy living alone in my brain.  Weakness is the worst part of this disease.  It makes me feel like I would do anything for you. It strips from me all my womanly powers.  Don't get excited because I'll recover from it eventually.  I just wish you would do things my way just for once.  It would make my life just a little bit easier.  I wouldn't have to pretend like I didn't love you.

Courtesy of ajari 

Love,

Stephanie 

love my way #2... |letter #22|

Dear Me,

Today, after spending the majority of the day shopping at an antique furniture store with my mother, I realized two things. Number one, I have a keen eye for elegant interior designing and number two, my mother and I make an excellent team when it comes to making decisions.  

It's been a while since my mom and I really had a mother-daughter date in which we would spend the entire day doing things together.  Not once has that happened since I came home this summer.  I missed her. It's not the same to see her come home every night after a long day of work compared to spending a carefree morning and afternoon with her.  I remember why I could talk to her and how easily I can make her laugh.  I forgot how much she really needs me in making the dire decisions on the look of our sweet home. Thank goodness we left that couch.

Today, my special moments were illustrated by my mom. Wise words of the day: Sometimes, mothers really do know best.



Love,
Stephanie


Courtesy of pennyspitter 

like father, like husband...|letter #21|

Dear My Future Husband, 

After browsing through my Facebook page, I stopped at a status that said that the father-daughter relationship directly impacts the interactions with a daughter's romantic partners.  I thought about it.  For the past several years, although plenty of guys have crushed on me relentlessly, the chosen few that I admired back have been unsuccessful attempts at a good relationship.  Thus I had to question myself. Has my unlucky efforts at a relationship been because of the guy's flaws or my somewhat imperfect father-daughter relationship? 

Courtesy of apdk 

 The issue with man #1 was that we were young and he wasn't ready to be with someone he can see himself with for a long time.  Man #2 I messed up on by letting him go when he was ready and willing. Man #3 I actually dated (unless you don't consider two weeks to be a relationship).  His issue was that he kept forgetting he actually had a girlfriend in the first place.  My father? He's the best dad a girl could ask for. However, do I have the type of relationship where I can actually talk to and share my thoughts, feelings, and emotions with him? Unfortunately no.  As much as I love my father, I am not emotionally and mentally connected to him.  I can never say I have one of those father-daughter talks/dates.  To be honest, it hurts. 

Courtesy of bfhoyt

I can't say who's fault it is but both of us.  At the same time, a deep immature part of me can't help but blame him.  Essentially, it all stems from his longs hours spent at work and his short ones spent home.  Working was his way of providing the very best for us and although I will never be ungrateful, I wondered why the nights he came home he never asked me how my day went.  I wondered when he would bother me about the boys in my life and tell me he was going to beat up anyone who broke my heart.  Sometimes, I felt like he didn't want to know anything, so I didn't want to tell him.  I can't change the fact that my dad is introverted and keeps his thoughts to himself, but I can change the way I interact with him.  Now that I am older, I gained a desire to change the dynamics of our relationship and form it into the one I also dreamed.  I realized that I have to be the one to make all the initial efforts and I am willing and ready to do that. 

But has my emotionally unstable relationship with my father determined the fate of my romantic relationships now? Honestly, I don't know.  I pray that by the time we are together in the future, both my relationships with you and my father would be secure.  I don't want to be with you unless the relationship more important than this is right.  Even more so, not before my relationship with my Heavenly Father is right too.  I would hate to think that my failed attempts at relationships have been because my relationship with my dad has been slacking.  It's sad to think that maybe the reason I want a relationship so bad is because of the one lacking with my father.  Understanding that is the first step, and with the knowledge comes growth and change. 

Love,

Stephanie

love my way #1 .... |letter #20|

Dear Me,

Just to introduce the topic of this subsection, "Love My Way" will be daily love letters to myself.  Here I will share positive thoughts and experiences despite my circumstances. I will also state one thing that was special about the day. In my quest to both find and enhance myself, I feel I must also shower myself with love and appreciation.  I need to give myself a reason to smile each passing day and remind myself why life is amazingly beautiful.  By being the primary source of encouragement, I will conquer some of the negative and insecure perceptions I hold and be able to alter my eyes on new sights. Most importantly, it is the most direct way I can fight my biggest enemy: me. In the end, besides God, who can love me better than myself? 

Courtesy of Childrens Book Review

Today, I saw the pure love of a good man for his family.  As he recounted the stories of his loved ones, his eyes glistened, his lips curled, his voice hearty, and his shoulders were passionate.  Instead of seeing a boy I had grown up with academically for the last seven years, I saw a man carrying the capacity to love not only his entire family but his future one some day.

Wise words of the day: Love between family members can transform us all.

Love,
Stephanie

the day you almost slipped away... |letter #19|

Dear Mummy, 

I do not know what would have happened to me if you really had left this world that day.  I do not even know whether or not I could have processed that information enough for a reaction.  The start of the outflow of those words all humanity dreads would have led me to march up to the hospital myself in disbelief.  I would shake you in that cold hospital bed and scream out your name. Wake up from this illusion these people have created for you, Mummy, because you are not gone. My mother would never leave me, I would say.  She would put up a fight first. 

It's funny because when you told me later on your experience of that night, you really did fight and struck a deal with God.  You felt yourself slipping away with voices and images ringing and flashing through your mind.  You were scared, but not of death itself.  You knew you would enter the heavenly gates of the Lord, no doubt in your mind.  Yet, you were scared to leave us: a twelve year old daughter, three year old and ten year old sons, and a husband who would crack without his wife.  Thus, you fought for live and pleaded with God that your children were not ready to be left without a mother.  You begged and prayed for more time here on Earth.  You battled avidly with death itself until God finally granted your wishes.  So, here you are Mummy, living among us like you were never once threatened to leave. 

Courtesy of sleepyjeanie


Courtesy of Refracted Moments

Fighting is such your character.  When you stand for something you believe is right, you will never cease to speak up for justice.  Selflessness is another part of your character.  Although in tremendous pain that night, you put aside the needs of yourself and begged to continue taking care of your family.  You chose a lifetime filled with pain over an eternity with the Lord himself just for us.  There is no one on this Earth with the integrity, strength, passion, and courage like you. 

My mother is a strong woman and without her,  I would not be the woman that I am today. Her guidance, love, and support have shaped me to believe in, treasure, and practice the values I hold today.  But what if I was wrong about her fighting to live? What if she really did leave me, my father, and two younger brothers behind that night? Honestly, I could not have imagined what I would have done at such a young age.  I would have been too selfish to understand why God would take her from me.  My life would have taken alternative paths. Maybe I would have went astray.  But it wasn't meant to happen.  My mother is here with me today and I thank God everyday.  I may not know how much longer I have with her, but best believe I am cherishing every moment.

Courtesy of Stmarygypsy 

Love,

Stephanie

just the little twenty things that make me smile... |letter #18|

Dear My Future Husband,

Courtesy of jefferyw

1. I love reading, watching, and listening to everything and anything about love & romance.
2. I enjoy writing, especially fiction.
3. I like desserts, brownies especially, when I don't burn them of course. 
4. I could be complete in the presence of my family for decades. 
5. A. Yes, the letter that you get in class. I'm obsessed with them. 
6. I like the feeling of getting comfortable in a dark movie theater chewing on the Buncha Crunch candy. 
7. Thunderstorms at night make me curl up under a blanket to read a romance. 
8. Babies. That is all. 
9. I would go across the world and come back just to see my mummy happy. 
10. When I dress well, I feel great, thus I love a great sense of fashion. 
11. When you tell me I'm beautiful. 
12. I love it when I laugh at inappropriate times. It makes it that much more exciting.
13. If I could I would travel to every contour of Europe. 
14. When people make me feel trustworthy. 
15. It uplifting to walk home into a clean, bright, and spacious place. 
16. Long summer nights filled with engaging conversation, captured moments, and spice. 
17. When you pay attention to the little things I do. 
18. Art, poetry, and spoken word always bring me to my desired place of creativity and peace.
19. Peace among those I love.
20. When young girls look up to me as their role model. The feeling gives me life. 

Courtesy of cupcakes2

Love,

Stephanie

call me cocoa... |letter #17|

Dear  Me,

I remember looking in the mirror in my mom's room one day after school.  I was smoothing down my curly  stiff hair and fixing my pressed white uniform top.  Everything about my appearance was neat, tidy, and presentable, yet I could not stop staring in the mirror like something wrong with me.  After more long minutes of staring at my own reflection, I suddenly realized why I could not see myself the way I always imagined.  I was dark-skinned and a deep part of me wished I was light.  I was only nine years old.

After watching a documentary exploring the deep seated biases about skin color, particularly dark skin, I was haunted with my own past emotions, thoughts, and experiences about being dark chocolate toned.  "You are pretty for a dark-skinned girl,"and "I don't usually talk to dark-skinned girls, but you can be an exception," they would whisper in my ears.  Had it not been for my dark color, some of the men I attracted would have approached me with ease and even with further more honorable intentions. I was not so disrespected by all men in my past.  Many of them fell in love with me, skin tone, personality, character, and all.  Most were not repelled by the color of my skin.  They saw past my skin tone and saw who I was.  I did the same. But could I say that these men did this because they liked dark-skinned girls to begin?  Only the afflicted thoughts of a dark-skinned woman would led her to believe it.

Regardless of whether I was being found attractive or not, growing up into my adolescence, I still struggled with my perception of beauty within.  I was always aware of how many light-skinned and dark-skinned girls were in the room at a time.  I sometimes felt not as pretty than the light-skinned girl next to me.  I was scared of getting darker by the sun in the summertime.  I secretly was offended when my friends would say they were lighter than me.

But after a while, I started getting angry. It wasn't fair that most of the black community would prefer a light-skinned "shawty" over a darker one.  It was vicious that way we are racist against our own people.  Surprisingly, black jokes are made by other blacks and when in argument, one the first combats made is related to the darkness of the skin.  Dark-skinned girls are made to feel ugly, convenient, and optional.  They are made to feel oppressed by the dark color of their skin.  Pass one by walking down the street without so much of a second glance back.  Preferences, they would call it.  Prejudice, I would say.  These destructive attitudes still live among us.

A good friend recently told me that the only thing that matters is all the makeup inside of me.  I have been told that all my life and have always believed it.  However, when that explanation came out of his mouth, it made perfect sense in the brighter light.  It was not what he said or when he said it, but it was how the words flowed.  I realized that although this long drawn controversy upsets me and leaves me often times feeling helpless, it does not take away from who I really am.  I will also remain me regardless of whether or not people appreciate my skin tone.  As a dark-skinned girl, I not only embrace my beauty but I embrace how my beauty does not determine who I am. I will still continue to be the reflective, intuitive, nurturing, and idealistic woman I have grown to become.  The color war does not define me and will no longer have an affect on my life.

Love,

Stephanie 


Courtesy of voxefx