Color only matters if you’re a crayon

I just read something that stirred up the demons inside. Jealousy, envy, resentment, bewilderment … very human… but, for me very unsavory emotions.  Growing up, I wasn’t allowed to have childhood friends, no birthday parties, sleepovers, after-school get togethers, nada. Didn’t make the long dark haired, tan skinned Puerto Rican and Indian girl very popular in the mostly Eastern European Ridgewood neighborhood between Brooklyn and Queens.  Life was very difficult, being chased home at least 3x a week by a group of white girls, called a nigger and a spic. I didn’t adjust socially until I ran away from home at age 11.

crayons

From 11-18 years of age, to be accepted, respected, liked, and eventually feared it HAD to be us vs. them.  The rainbow coalition vs. the white girls.  If they looked like they had money, we’d sneer and hate on them. The money was ill gotten, we were sure. Daddy’s money.  Spoiled bitches, we thought.  I went along, had gone to private school myself, but didn’t advertise.  I secretly adored pink, but that was for ’them’, Latinas wore red (I HATED red) Although I was voluptuous but trim, the ‘unwarranted’ hatred extended to skinny white girls, then the white girls with tan or black boyfriends.  it was all hatred, all gossip and malevolence 24*7.  I started to believe my tough bitch facade, and became a mean antagonistic young woman, hanging out and running with gang members, trying to fit, belong, have a family…any family.   I knew that wasn’t me.  The 5-year-old who had asked, on her knees, if Jesus needed her help was inside, suffocating.

I had learned to scorn what I didn’t agree or resonate with.  It was only in my early late 20’s, I began to realize I had a choice, I did not have to be what the world taught me to be.   I could return to innocence. 

Why am I sharing this?? In case there is ONE person out there who needs to know that it IS possible to change.  It is possible to remove the layers of crap and start fresh and new, making choices from a place of love not fear, able to love any and every one.   Because today I read something that stirred me, so I wanted to own my side of the street. Bringing it all out into the light this way any residual darkness has no foothold.  I love all siSTARs… blue, black, green, brown, white, yellow, it truly and honestly makes no difference to me.

Yes, if I can do it, you can do it.  You can choose to rise above any training, brainwashing or street lessons.     I did and my world is the better for it. 

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7 thoughts on “Color only matters if you’re a crayon

  1. Rock on, Shanti! Sorry for the pain you endured which turned you hard and cold. So happy and awed that somehow some way, you found your way. You saw that you could change. You saw you didn’t have to buy into all the bullshit and set about to do the work to take off the armor of hate and let the love you are shine out. Bravo!

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    1. I have to tell you. Clicking publish on this post scared me. That’s how I knew I had to. I refuse to impede my progress, tangoing with Universe because dark energy in the world right now is causing some separation in our siSTARhood. I REFUSE to re-don the cloak of segregation. Thank you for being… pretty much my only commenter. The Universe strongly suggested (yea told me lol) to do this.. not really all that sure why, but I’m listening. Thank you. You rock siSTAR! I love you!!!

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  2. Hi Shanti! I’d like to let you know that I relate to you in many ways.. You are very brave to publish your feelings & thoughts here, and I honor & applaud you!
    I saw you tonight in the full moon sisterhood event/chat with Unleashing Feminine Power etc. Sisterhood.
    I grew up Brooklyn, NY. I was bullied/ persecuted much of my young life in school and by my own family &, and then later as well. I was chased & ridiculed for being of Jewish heritage, and for other reasons which I still do not understand, except that I was kind and vulnerable and did not know how to “fight back”. My father was very prejudiced and believed in male dominance. He bullied my mother sometimes. I had a close friend in second grade who was a black boy, and my father warned me that “I’d better not kiss him”. That was the furthest thing from my mind as I had this sweet friend who walked me home sometimes and was in my class. I was 7 years old! It was the late ’60s.
    Later I was taken advantage of by boys (white ones, usually), other girls, and family members (including my own sister) in emotional ways & some physical, and raped several times.
    I’ve been a victim of “domestic violence” thru several relationships, and then later, helped women who were abused.
    This is one of the reasons I know that sisterhood works!!!
    Right now I am seeking ways to use my talent as a graphic designer/artist to be of service.
    I am joyous to have found your blog in the community tonight. Your words are beautiful, and I love the title, “Color only matters if you are a crayon”!
    Have you read “Another Brooklyn” by Jacqueline Woodson? It is quite amazing.

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    1. AWw Debbie, thank you so much for commenting and sharing some of your story with me. I will cup it lovingly in my two hands. I’m sorry that you too knew what it was like to be bullied and traumatized because of others fears. Thank you so much for your beautiful words. Hugs you. Do you know of Gabby Bernstein if not, check out her site, she has a group on Facebook and it’s all people sharing their talents etc. Maybe that would help. I left my contact in the group (recording) sat nam siSTAR. We are learning how to use our voices!!!

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  3. Beautiful and well said. It is one thing to give up and let the world steal your soul. I have a deep respect for people that use their pain as a lesson and let it mold you into someone that is strong enough to teach and help others that want too grow as well.

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