Reflection

This evening in preparation for break fast, I took a shower.

I washed my face.

I shampooed my hair.

I conditioned it.

I hopped out and I felt my hair.

I went to my room and sat in front of my mirror in contemplation.

I rubbed, and I rubbed, and rubbed—

And then I found my argan papaya pomade and

I massaged, and I massaged, and I massaged

My head and hair.

All the while looking at myself.

Glasses—purple, once navy

Eyes—scant remnants of yesterday’s eyeliner

Face—bare

Ears—these days, I just wear my cartilage stud

Eyebrows—clean, but lacking any artificial shape

Lips—plain

Neck—still kind of long

Hair—natural

Natural? The whole picture was natural.

Me at my most bare.

And I sat.

Massaging my head as I took in the vision.

And I thought, hey, I’m kind of cute.

Not ridiculously so but

It was a revelation.

I’m aware I wear makeup well but

I always kind of identified with a particular No Doubt song,

(Or thought that I should) and

I never thought so much of Myself.

Admittedly, it did do me good to have forgotten my makeup bag when I went to Israel.

I remembered to switch hands—to use both.

To continue to feel my own naturalness.

My head has been long neglected.

I sat gently pulling at my hair.

I did not use a comb.

I wanted to feel its curls.

I picked, and I picked, and I picked.

I picked my way back to high school and

I thought about how happy I was for most of it.

I picked my way to college and

I thought about how misguided I was for half of it.

Freshman year I was lost.

Sophomore year I was miserable.

Junior year I was consistently, truly, Happy for the first time in years.

Senior year I was on cloud ten, having rediscovered my love of learning.

And my eyes started to water.

And then I smiled because their quality made my eyes shine.

And who doesn’t like eyes that sparkle?

I rubbed, and I rubbed, and I rubbed and—

I thought to myself,

“How have you come this far?”

Sophomore year I did not believe there was a light at the end of the tunnel—

Or if there were, it was bound to be an oncoming train.

I was surrounded by people who love me—as always,

I am very lucky,

But when I reflect back, it’s a time of sadness

And bad decisions of every variety.

“How have I come this far?”

I wouldn’t have thought it possible then.

I barely think it possible now.

Somehow I have falsely convinced myself my life hasn’t started yet.

I’ve yet to reconcile that with the fact that I Live every day.

Thanks be to Gd.

I massaged, and I massaged, and I massaged—

And I thought about my best friends.

Since arriving in Morocco, I feel like I have regressed in too many ways.

In high school and college I marched to beat of my own drum;

Dressing crazy wacky, ignoring naysayers of all varieties, and being fairly outspoken.

But then I came here

And I felt like I lost a lot of my spirit.

This is a place where standing out in the crowd is bad.

Where dancing to your personal drum, though probably beneficial, may make you an outcast.

Or an embarrassment.

Somewhere along the way

I lost my voice.

I didn’t stand up for myself at times when I should have.

I let others’ complacency become mine.

I allowed the System to make me feel useless.

I lost sight of my aspirations.

I could not see what was important.

I massaged… and I massaged… and I massaged—

And I remembered You.

I remembered the actual words You used to inspire me.

The words you use to remind me that I can do things.

Somewhere along the way

I lost my self-confidence.

Not the confidence that lets me speak in front of crowds—

The confidence that assures me I will succeed.

I rubbed… and I rubbed… and I rubbed

And with specific regard to the PC—

I remembered Elsa writing my peer recommendation and

I remembered Laura helping me on my crutches get to my interview.

(And us laughing while I cleaned my bleeding sides in the bathroom.)

I remembered crying in Sarah’s bed when I first learned about my medical hold.

I remembered Perry assuring me everything would be okay.
I remembered Rachael and her mother suggesting a urologist for me.

I remembered jumping up and down in my kitchen with my granma when I learned I was invited.

I remembered driving to the FedEx regional office with Mara looking for the actual invitation that got lost.

I remembered it wasn’t easy or quick but that you’ve all been there with me every step of the way

With not only the PC but with everything important in my life.

I remembered all of you who never let me stop believing in myself.

Because sadly I had stopped—

Or at least seriously starting doubting myself.

But you were all right.

Alas,

Somewhere along the way

I lost hope again here.

But as I sat massaging my hair, I thought of so many conversations I’ve had this week, this year and in years past with You and an overwhelming sense of gratitude rushed over me.

My family has never told me I lacked the capability to do anything and

My friends have told me I have the capability to do everything.

I don’t know what I did to impress You so much.

I don’t know how I can be so lucky.

You constantly remind me that you support me and

That you believe in me

And it makes me want to cry tears of appreciation and joy because

Somewhere along the way

I lost faith in myself.

But not today.

Today I opened my ears, and my eyes, and my heart—

And I listened to the loving chorus all around me—

And I let myself believe them/You.

And I smiled.

And as I massaged my hair dry, I thought about yesterday, about being “shamed” for cutting my hair and

I was happy.

I did not come here to get a Moroccan husband.

I came here to do meaningful work and

I came here to learn.

Honestly I didn’t even want to cut my hair

But after too much beach and chlorine it needed it.

So I had it cut.

And now, my hair is about 98% all natural, no chemical straighteners.

And I played with my hair because we had never been properly acquainted.

It’s always been flat ironed or

Hot combed or

Relaxed or

Cornrowed or

Braided in extensions

Hiding its true identity.

I have always wanted curly hair, like Rachel True

And today

As I massaged and

As I rubbed and

As I picked—

I discovered I have my own little curls.

And the more I picked the more volume I uncovered

And I got really excited to see how my hair will grow out.

To see if it will be “conventionally” pretty or not.

And I can still change it if I don’t like it but

I want to Know it first.

I picked, and I picked, and I picked—

And I wondered what other innate qualities, like the curls on my own head, I have hidden from myself only to go seeking elsewhere.

I rubbed… and I rubbed… and I rubbed—

And I realized my hair was dry.

And in that moment

With that thought—

I decided to Listen to you all.

To Believe in your words and

To embark upon a voyage of self-knowledge

I believe I am one of the luckiest girls in world

Not because of anything I have done or seen but

Because I have the best friends (and family) anyone could dream of knowing.

I hope I have been as good of a friend to you.

Thank you for not keeping silent.

I needed to hear your voices.

More than I even realized

I needed to hear your voices.

This is an ode to You.

ALL my love—

cds