Taking Up Space After The Pandemic.

I’ve always dreamed of seeing the world. Growing up I couldn’t wait to explore all the places I had learned about in Geography class. I remember the excitement of learning about faraway magical places with beautiful architecture and history. I dreamed of fully immersing myself into a culture; making friends with locals and learning their stories. I dreamed of sitting in cafes drinking coffee (coffee always felt grown to me). I would write stories and read books. I would be a woman who travelled. I couldn’t wait for the feeling of being overwhelmed by the beauty that the world had to offer. That moment when you see something you never thought you would see. The amazement and the wonder; having your breath taken away. I can remember cutting out pictures from magazines and posting them on my bedroom walls; Istanbul, Paris, Madrid, Nairobi, Fez; so many places; so many worlds. I would see this all before 21 of course. It was a big world and I had an even bigger imagination.

I grew up eventually. And life does what it sometimes does; breaks you down, humbles you, and teaches you. And those amazing places I used to once cut out of magazines and newspapers to place on my wall became distant fantasies. I spent a lot of time stifling my childhood wanderlust. I was depressed a lot. I was lonely a lot and I closed myself off. I made excuses. I held off from the world because of school, work, money, and time. I would comfort myself by saying “I’m too busy” or “I’m too broke.”

Later on in life when I had particularly bad days I would escape to the newest creation of Airbnb. I would look up countries and explore the homes, read the reviews and save them. I would go to Pinterest and save itineraries of cool cities and interesting countries and create boards; save the ideas. All for a later time. Another month. Another year. 2019 was another year. 2020 felt like it was turning into that same year.

And then the pandemic happen. A world that used to be open available for me to save for later and another time had now suddenly closed. It shocked me like everyone else. And the fear I used to carry turned into this nagging regret of “what if this moment goes on for years and I wasted all this time not seeing those places?”

“What if this moment continues to last and last?” And then I asked myself “how long will I continue to not take up space in this world?”

What this moment is teaching me is that I can no longer wait. I can no longer be afraid. When this is over. When the world is safe. And the world’s arms open herself up again. Florence will be the first place that hugs me. And it will be the warmest; most marvelous hug. I am going to breathe. Inhale. Exhale. And thank God that I am still here. And after the hug is over I want to drink too much wine. Wear flowy sundresses and no shoes. I want to be the most carefree black girl you can find; the freest black girl because I deserve to be. My hair will be in braids because that's when I feel the most beautiful. I want to finally take in those rolling Tuscan hills. Maybe I’ll get to ride a vespa. Or learn how to make pasta from scratch. I’m going to drink as much coffee as I can because it still makes feel like a real grown up. I'm going to eat anything that makes me feel good. Anything that smells good. Most importantly I want to be reminded that this earth existed long before I did and will exist long after I'm gone. In a perfect world I won't be alone but one thing I have learned is that things don't always go as planned. But as long as I'm there that will be enough. And the little girl who I locked away for so long and who dreamed of so many places will finally get to see it all. She’s ready. I’m ready.