You’re DTP (Disturbin’ the Peace) headphone rapper!

So once again it’s that time of the month, and no, I’m not hear to share the stressful woes of the female menstrual cycle. I’m referring to my monthly Orthodontist appointments in NYC, that I must say are painfully depleting my bank accounts. For some strange reason I enjoy observing people: detecting emotions through candid body language and facial expressions that inherently give away their mood or attitude. As I rode on the D train, I stood against the door of the train, not particularly by choice, more so by limited seating options. I could’ve either chose to sit between those awkward three seaters and wedge my ass between two complete strangers and let the feeling of clostrophobia consume me or sit at the corner of three seats by the other two passenger seater, which is still pretty uncomfortable because everyone’s knees end up touching.Anyway back to my people watching narrative. I stood by the door, per usual lost in the sea of my own rapidly random thoughts. 

All of a sudden, my thoughts are unexpectedly ruined by one of the usual NYC headphone rappers. His voice wasn’t at an obnoxiously high volume to echo throughout the train, but I can tell from the facial expressions of the two women seated nearby him, they were obviously agitated. The younger girl seated adjacent to him wasn’t reserved or making any attempt to conceal her annoyance for the headphone rapper. While the older woman seated next to him just casually sprung up a light conversation in Spanish. Most likely discussing the headphone rapper. The two women refrained from eye contact, but their solemn expressions and conversation were most likely in regards to him. I stood there watching, not entirely concerned about what exactly it is they’re saying, instead the thought of reserved opinions of opposing cultures came to mind instantly. It’s interesting when people burst into their native tongue, discussing another race that they assume won’t understand. I wonder how often this happens and if their comments are a generalization of an entire racial group rather than just directed towards the individual who is just a representation of a particular racial group. My intentions aren’t to make this a race argument, but once again this observation was just one of the many things I see on a daily basis that spark up a thought which then transforms into a subconscious conversation. I was annoyed by the headphone rapper as well and wanted him to stop, but after all, this is America, Right? People have the right to freedom of expression, even in public settings. I wasn’t sure how long he planned to continue his horrible rapping, but I hoped his stop was coming up, so he could get off. I watched the women continue to speak with each other, amidst the headphone rappers train debut. I wish I could of atleast comprehended the lyrics or knew the song to appreciate his performance. Then, I might have been on his side and not mind his rapping. Now come on, we all have to agree they are some songs that you just can’t hum to yourself, you have to share it with the world irregardless of how horrible your voice might sound.  

This is just one of the random thoughts that go through my head while observing people. As I watched the women prepare to get off at their stop, I thought, I know they’re happy to escape this unwanted performance. The young man, continued without any concern for anyone around him until it was his time for him to depart the train. Once, he was gone the train resumed its silence. Only the screeching and rattling of the tracks were my soundtrack. 

Brothers Lessons

As a child, you teased me making sure my skin was tough enough for the cruel world and mean kids.

As a child, you showed me the definition of unconditional love.

As a child, it was you who taught me to fight with my hands, making sure I protected myself at all times. Protect myself from the bullies and people who tried to test me.  

As an adult, It was you who taught me to refrain from physical confrontation (unless necessary) but instead retaliate with my intelligence, wit and words. Always advising me not to allow anyone to be in control of my emotions. 

As a child, you told me to stay away from boys by saying “they only want one thing” Of course I didn’t listen, but i never once forgot what you told me and eventually had to discover the truth on my own. 

As a teenager, when you sensed I was getting a little too rebellious you purposely embarrassed me in front of my friends to keep me in line.

As a teenager you gave me “the talk” which you admitted was awkward and difficult to have at the time. Nonetheless you didn’t shy away from it, and in fact stood your ground. As a pre-teen venturing off into high school you taught me to observe my environment, most importantly the people surrounding me and not become “that girl”.

As a college student, you went against guy code and gave me the emotional insight of a guys mind. Sharing with me that males and females are actually more similar than society tends to make it seem.

As a college graduate you taught me to not undermine my degree and not allow terminations from temporary jobs tarnish my determination. You told me to stop bawling and go back to the drawing board. 

As a college graduate, you told me to hold my head high and be persistent, constantly reminding me “Yolanda you have a Bachelors degree, you’re one step ahead of so many other people”. You told me NOT to give up, but instead continue searching and diversify my options. 

As an adult, you supported my decision either way between packing it all up and returning home or sticking through the difficult times and living on my own.

As an adult, you advised me friendships change, people change, while assuring me it’s all apart of life. All that matters is that I do not allow those external factors to break my spirit and ruin my self perspective or self esteem.

As an adult, you told me there’ll be moments in life where I’ll feel alone, but I have to get through those times to discover and understand myself.

As an adult, you told me I have to create my own happiness by finding my happy song and playing it even on my bad days

As an adult you told me to stop trying to impress others and just focus on myself.

As a child, I wanted to be like you. As a child, I felt protected and safe in your presence.


Now as a woman I want to thank you for every new life lesson you ALL teach me

As a little sister, (the wash belly) and the last of the bunch, I’m not exactly sure what I’ve taught you all. I just hope whatever it is, it was worth it. 

Even if I had the option, I wouldn’t have changed anything.

Thank you for the brother lessons.

The Mystery under the wig🤔😳

I finally decided to take my wig off-Sounds so funny to say, but I promise I’m not a balding Middle Aged woman-I’m just a twenty-something year old who’s trying dabbling in alternative inexpensive protective hair style options. 

A few days ago, I somehow mustered up the confidence to take my ombré two toned, dark brown and blonde shoulder length wig off. Yes, I unleashed the fro ✊🏾


I got a little tired and annoyed with the constant heading patting and itching. I think that was either a sign from my hair that it needed to be washed or just a “let me  loose cry!”

So I did as my hair requested. I took the wig off, unbraided my cornrows and man, I tell you, it felt goood to be free…

Now, I was standing face to face with the real me in all of my natural glory. I stared at my natural tresses, examining it intently, stretching the ends to measure the growth and then wondering what the hell Am I going to do with “this” for work.

I thought maybe I’ll think of something once I begin combing through it. And surely, I thought of a cute little twist out idea. The process of this cute little twist out was longer than I expected. Once I start styling my hair, I don’t give up. No matter how long it takes. 

I lathered my hair with my Creme of Nature Argan oil Buttermilk moisturizer, placed shea butter and  around the perimeter (on my edges and nape) for extra moisture, sheen and protection. After, I began the nearly two-hour process of parting my hair into small boxes and doing two strand twists. I still haven’t figured out how to do three strand twists, so for now I’ll stick to what I know. 

The next morning after I was completely showered and dressed, I unraveled the twists. I was a little aggravated because a few twists were awkwardly jutting out of my scalp. I was prepared for those little unruly twists, I used a small amount of Eco gel to hold them down. Thanks Eco Gel, all this time I’ve been doubting. You came through when I needed you. 

Then I was out the door and off the work. The gentle breeze lightly passing over my scalp, like cool fingers as I walked towards the bus stop.  

          

  Later on that same day, one of my fellow naturalista co-workers greeted me with surprise and enthusiasm for revealing the mystery under the wig. She encouraged me to wear my natural hair more often work and revealed her dislike for my wig wearing. Usually I would get oftened by such comments but in actuality, I was receptive and appreciative of her realness. 

It felt good to be me, feel like me and show the real me at work. 

She hasn’t changed my views on wearing wigs, but she has empowered me to switch it up,by aternating between hair style options.  I don’t always have the time or energy to retwist my hair. Plus, wigs are easy and convenient protective options. 

I guess I can let my hair out a little more often from now on.