Change
get over it.
I like many foods I never thought to try
the same order you created years ago but never thought to change
what you know is comfortable won't disappoint you
learning how to handle rejection and disappointment
accepting things you don't like
Delayed gratification
All could explain my aversion to the dishwasher
I have seen a lot of discourse online regarding people not voting for Kamala Harris, specifically criticizing those who are choosing not to vote for her because of her pro Israel stance. I don't particularly feel upset with those choosing not to vote for her. I think feeling reluctant to vote for a candidate who says they will always support Israel's right to defend themselves is valid. I internally have been having a battle of morals. I quarrel with my strong identity with those who do not vote for Kamala due to her choices regarding the genocide in Palestine, but also the guilt I would feel if Trump were to win this upcoming election. Living in a swing state I have to consider how I would feel if Donald Trump won. How my peers would look at me especially those who are trans, poc, low-income, or any person directly impacted by his willingness to promote hate and his bigoted agenda. Knowing I voted for the fast track towards the end of their right to exist is not something I would want to sit with. At least with Kamala, there is the false security she will fight for those who need it, and the process of letting down these people will be less violent in comparison to a Trump administration. Not voting for Kamala won't stop the genocide in Palestine and I do not believe there is a strong enough collective that not voting for her will send the message we need it to. I also objectively know Trump is worse than Kamala and while I don't believe Kamala really will carry through with campaign promises of making a better world for marginalized people I can only imagine that Donald Trump will indeed fight to make life harder. Under the Biden/Kamla administration, they have failed to deliver on almost every campaign promise and have effectively achieved nothing in their presidency( I know government is complicated and there is more to this than just them not delivering). Another gripe in regards to people's attitude towards Kamala Harris is people not pronouncing her name correctly because they don't respect her. Okay fine you don't respect her but it speaks volumes of their attitude toward ethnic names. As someone whose name is constantly mispronounced it is kind of disheartening idk maybe I am making it personal. However I would never deadname Caitlyn Jenner simply because I think she's an awful person. You also don't see the contrary, people never mispronounce Donald Trump's name, simply because they don't like him. Anyway, I voted for Kamala Harris. I feel a lot of things in regard to the political state of the United States, and the increasingly polarized divide. I feel a lot of things I unfortunately I will probably not get to resolve because the issues go deeper than my lifetime.
It's my 21st birthday and I'm forcing myself to write a blog post in one day and publish it. On top of whatever other work I have to do. I never liked my birthday, but I have learned to tolerate it more by knowing when I control the day and do what I choose it usually goes a lot better. I feel like a lot of birthday hatred comes from unmet expectations, it's your day it's supposed to be perfect but rarely is. I think the best birthday I have had was my 20th last year when I spent the whole day to myself avoiding everyone and barely checking my phone. It was the best because the expectations were so low I could not be disappointed by the very lax day I planned for myself. It was one of the only birthdays I remember not crying. The 21st will be added to the list too, maybe I am just growing up. On my 20th though I went shopping, I got my free Starbucks drink, I got my eyelashes done, and then I went home and ate my favorite meal and my mom baked me a cake. There was little that could have gone wrong so it was easy to have a good day. I had also had a prior celebration with my friends where I saw Beyonce and got to attend a party. I actually kind of hate attending parties on my birthday that aren't for me but I've never really had a party thrown in my honor either. My 19th birthday wasn't awful but it wasn't great, the only person who could make time for me on my actual day was Jumana. She got me a cake and we hung out for a little but other than that it was a little disappointing. On my 18th birthday, Jumana and her friends came up to Asu, and they took me to a party. It wasn't a birthday party but rather just a party that was just happening on campus. I got too drunk and cried on the floor not exactly how I wanted to celebrate becoming a legal adult. I also felt like they came up there to go to that party rather than for my birthday. A lot of other birthdays are muddy but I don't remember enjoying them. Except my 15th? all I wanted to do was go to the movies with my mom and that's what I did and then ate cake. It was not all great though my friends tried to throw me a surprise party which ended in me crying alone ( not in a good way) maybe I was a little bit of a diva but come on it was my birthday.
To recall this day to celebrate my 21st year of life I will start from the beginning. I woke up early to be able to make it on time to my yoga class. My mom order me a cake and flowers, both were delivered smushed. I thought what a great start to my day but I did not let this get me down. I am just recovering from covid so this was my first day of classes even though school started last week. I found out I hated my commute to tempe but I got out of class early and was able to head home between my classes. On the light rail ride home I was serenaded with happy birthday by an middle aged man who thought I was younger than I appeared. When I got home I walked in on my roommate who was planning to surprise me by decorating the apartment for my birthday, oops! (sorry kiara). Very nice gesture I interrupted by coming home to eat something. Then off to my second class contemporary fashion, I was not enthused by this class but I pulled through and decided not to drop it because my friend was in the class. Next I ventured home with my roommate and my other friend and they sang happy birthday to me, I made a wish, and we ate squashed birthday cake. They both had places to be so I decided to do some grocery shopping (the ultimate birthday activity). I went to trader joes and got all I needed, and bought alcohol legally for the first time, it's my 21st, I had to do it. Upon looking at my still vertical ID the cashier wasn't sure if it was real asking if it was in fact me. Upon realizing the date he wished me happy birthday and darted off to bring me a complimentary bouquet of flowers. This made my day, something small. It was shortly ruined though when leaving the parking lot I was honked at for taking too long to make my unprotected left turn. How would you know from behind me if it was safe to go??? I kept thinking to myself, it's my birthday everyone should be nice to me, no one should honk at me, getting on the shuttle for tempe its my birthday they should let me go first. No one gaf that it was my birthday. This is why I think in order to have a good birthday it is important to remember it's your day, yours, no one else's. Anyway after trader joes I got home and order myself take out, thai food, my favorite food. I was in control, it was my day, and I was gonna make this great I kept reminding myself. I ate alone in my room, received phone calls, and watched my favorite tv show. This may sound sad or boring but to me it was perfect. I could not be disappointed by my birthday when this is exactly what I wanted. A day to myself with my favorite things. I did not cry this birthday and I think that is progress. I had my own expectations and I met them so in turn my day was good. A lot of people kept asking why I didn't go out, why I didn't get wasted, or throw a huge party. Those weren't expectations I had for myself, nor things I was particularly interested in doing. I had to be real I had a day full of class and don't like the way I feel after drinking, so I did the best with what was given to me and enjoyed my 21st birthday thoroughly.
Smushed birthday cake.
Most people in your life are temporary, this is something I don't stomach well. Think of every person you have met through school, hobbies, work, and then think of the people that actually matter to you. Probably most of them are forgotten or don't hold much value to you. Very few relationships are long-lasting or meant for a lifetime, especially at my current age, after all I am only 20. One thing I love to hear is you have not met all the people you are going to love yet. It makes me feel hopeful and excited about what is to come as I grow older and all the people I will meet. It worries me though because how many of these people I have yet to meet will be temporary? I mean my mom did not meet her current husband until she was 40, I have time to live 20 years again before I could meet one of the most important people to me. The thought of all the temporary people I will meet in between makes me sick, nauseous even, I have such a hard time accepting that most people will be temporary to me. It is draining to think there will be so many more beginnings and endings I have to experience in this lifetime. It is something I have to accept though, because it is just the nature of most human relationships and the fact that life itself is temporary.
My ex's mom unfollowed me on Instagram, and it made me think about how my problem may not be with the fact that most people will be temporary but rather I overestimate my importance to others sometimes, maybe due to the fact I don't want them to be temporary? I don't know I am still trying to figure out why I feel the way I do. I was fond of my ex's mom, and his whole family they were awesome to me and at the time treated me better than my own family. Maybe I just felt this way because they were very family-oriented and it felt really strange to be included in functional family activities (wdym yall love spending time together??). Me and my ex are friends, so I was naturally a little confused when his whole family unfollowed me on Instagram. I noticed his sister unfollowed me on Instagram and I probably would not have noted his brother and mom followed suit. I brought it up to him though while we were hanging out recently and he said his mom told him they were unfollowing me on Instagram. That's when I realized it was not just his sister but the rest of his family. At first, I was kind of hurt, almost more hurt than me and my ex breaking up, I loved his family. I was wondering what he was telling them about our break up, or if he was making me out to be some villain. Then I thought about it a little harder, I am no longer dating their son and hopefully won't ever be again, I truly was not that important to them. I was temporary in their life and most likely would not be engaging with them with any meaningful substance again. I was the girl that broke up with their son, why would they care what I was up to. They shouldn't and honestly it might be weird if they were still buddy-buddy with me when a new girl enters the picture for him. I can't help but wonder their perspective of the break up though, I doubt he told them about how he had Tinder on his phone before we broke up. While I was initially disgruntled by the unfollowing I know it is okay and not truly personal. I enjoyed knowing them and can accept they were just some of those temporary people in my life and be grateful my experience with them was a positive one. This helps me accept that most people being temporary isn't necessarily a bad thing and I should learn to appreciate the time I did spend with them and look back and feel grateful they made my life fuller while being part of it. I have tremendous gratitude for their kindness to me and will think of that when remembering them, not the fact they unfollowed me on Instagram.
My coworkers are temporary people that come to mind as well. I've worked three jobs but at 6 places if you count all the different Walgreens I have been at. By far my favorite coworkers were at my first Walgreens location, awesome lovely people who I think of fondly. They made work fun and were people I would see almost every day for over a year. Now I haven't spoken to most of them since I left the store. I know I could text most of them and they would reply with enthusiasm. They are still temporary people though and I accept that. People I once knew a lot about but am no longer learning about is such a strange feeling. Why did I know the drama surrounding you leaving your fiance but now I don't even know your new boyfriend's name. I wonder if any of these people think of me too or if I spend too much time in my head. I often think of people late at night when I can't sleep, I like to imagine they are sound asleep while I lie in agony wondering why I am thinking of people who were so brief in my life or that I don't truthfully care about. Like my Mom's friend Gina, her last name was Orange, I think that's why I remember her. I think of working with Roy and Mabel on weekends at the Walgreens on River and 1st, I wonder if they remember me or if Bradley from Everybodys is still micromanaging. I wonder if Kevin's daughter Stella still comes in with his wife to say hi, I wonder if they bring the new baby. I'll be okay without knowing the answer to any of these, so I should be okay with accepting people as being temporary. I still feel this sense of being dissatisfied about the fact I will have to continue to leave people behind. Even now I find myself thinking about my coworkers I have currently and one day I will never see them again. I am not particularly attached to any of them but I think I am bothered by the fact I will have to acclimate to new coworkers again and again. I remind myself again though this isn't always a bad thing, by letting people be temporary, letting them play their part in the moment I create room for new people and experiences. I have to let them be temporary to move forward in life, move forward in my career, and align with all that is meant for me. What about all your pets and death. How does parting with these help me align with what is meant for me. I'm struggling to find a positive way to spin this. I guess your pets aren't temporary, they just don't live as long as you or loved ones that pass. I guess this is a different issue than just being temporary, but still brings the emotion of grief, similarly to the way I grieve those who were temporary in my life.
My plant and a picture of me and Jumana who is not temporary, my plant may be though I have not been doing the best job caring for it.
I keep saying it is a capri summer but I am the only one stepping out with capris!! Get your capris y'all, and join me in this. We are channeling Carrie Bradshaw (aesthetically only, please if you find yourself making a decision on par with her behavior reevaluate) we will be unapologetically ourselves. For me this means wearing capris even if no one else is. I wear them so confidently that I make people question their once negative lens on capris. Seriously though why does everyone hate capris so much? Is it the space between where the pants cut off and your shoe? What else could it be idk? I take the unusual length of capris as a challenge to work with proportions and draw some attention to your legs! Another great thing about capris is that it's the style, not the actual type of pants, they could be jeans, cargos, leggings, linen, or whatever your heart desires. To dismiss capris as a whole is ignorant, they are so versatile and a great way to explore different pants. A trend I have been seeing in fashion is people dressing for themselves, of course, there are still trends that people follow and conform to. I think that people are being more personal in what they wear, it could just be that my generation is getting older as well. The point I am trying to make is this summer I am going to be unapologetically myself and take fashion risks! You have to miss sometimes to eat and that is okay. So what if you hate capris I have realized what makes things awesome is me. So if I decide to rock capris this summer they are awesome and if you think I am awesome you should get a pair of capris.
Okay, I never really explained my blogs name or the origins of this idea. I did the first post to explain why I wanted to make a blog but I thought I would elaborate a little more. The name comes from the blog I had in 3rd grade for my elementary school's tag (talented and gifted) program. I was only placed there due to my accelerated skills in reading, I guess it meant you were "talented" if you could read at a "12th" grade level in rural Iowa at age 9. I actually feel like the experience of being placed in an accelerated learning program stunted me and had more of a negative effect overall on my education, but that is to be unpacked in another blog post. I named my blog Stripes and Dots because I liked stripes and dots, simple as that lol. I was always into fashion and could not decide which pattern I liked better, so I went with both. I also now say it was a nod to being unconventional and mixing patterns which is usually frowned upon. All true fashionistas know mixing patterns is one of the greatest experiences if done right. I kept the name as a gift to my younger self, I wanted her diva to live on. The setup is exactly the same, same background and theme. I chose Blogger for this exact reason, while it's kind of dated and there might be a better platform for blogging I wanted to remain authentic (although truthfully this site kinda drives me mad lol, so maybe I should reconsider). Unfortunately, the original stripes and dots is lost or deleted, it was probably deleted when my old school email was deleted, so you will not be able to read 9 year old Tejahs writing. I will sum it up for you, there was a post about Ruth Wakefield the inventor of chocolate chip cookies, and a post about butterflies, the common mormon. In reviving stripes and dots younger tejah will live on and I will engage in good writing exercises.
While the blog is gone I have this photo of me from 3rd grade, I think for my blog?? I could be entirely making this up, but here is one of my first selfies.
I grabbed an electric fence once, on accident. My curiosity got the best of me and the horses on the other side of the fence called to me. I wondered why it had hurt me because I had not recognized it was an electric fence. With my newfound clarity that it was in fact an electric fence I found myself wanting to grab it again knowing it would hurt me but wondering if it would hurt less if I was prepared for the tingling sensation of electric shock. Supposedly being in the same situation twice you are supposed to use your experience from the first time to not make the same mistake twice. I made the same mistake twice. Maybe not exactly the same, no one blocked me on Apple Music this time. I did lose a follower, swallower, idk, idgaf. Yes I do, I lost the idgaf war and will be paying more in war reparations than Germany after WW2. I am a repeat long distance situationship survivor, why I find myself attaching myself to men who are far away is a another discussion regarding my emotional unavailability and my inability to confront it. Maybe I should have practiced the same restraint with the electric fence and not agreed to something I knew would end poorly. I find myself getting into trouble when I disregard my needs for the sake of pleasing others. Recently I found myself in a situation where the guy I was talking to just wanted to be friends and did not want to pursue a romantic connection with me anymore due to the distance. He asked if we could be friends and stay in touch. I however did not want to be just friends due to the feelings I had developed for this man and the attachment I had formed to the routine of talking to him every day for an extended period of time. I knew it would be hard for me to release this romantic attachment while agreeing to be friends with him, I knew it could hurt me. Through some conversation I found myself agreeing to be friends with him despite my concerns of how it may weigh on me. He wasn't greeting me with good morning, saying goodnight or offering to doordash me treats when I was having a bad day anymore. It felt relatively the same though and I found myself getting increasingly frustrated because it felt like now he's still getting the same validation from me through conversation but can talk to other people without guilt. I was not allowing myself to get over what I felt for him while engaging in constant conversation still. This lead to me question my self worth and acting in ways that would blow up in my face e.g. not respecting the boundary he requested of just being friends, being emotionally distressed when we did speak, and ruining the chance of friendship too. I have found myself thinking if I had been more firm in setting a boundary and giving myself time to get over him that maybe we could have had a fulfilling friendship. I would have described us as alike individuals who were compatible in many ways, a good foundation for friendship. I was rewatching Sex and The City in the midst of all of this and Carrie said something that stuck out to me because it pertained to this particular situation I was trying to work through. She says "If you love someone and you break up, where does the love go?" this is in reference to a conversation about being friends with your ex. She's arguing that this love should go into friendship and that it is good to be friends with an ex. I chose to interpret it differently, that love is not theirs to hold anymore. I think that love should go back to yourself, maybe I am being impetuous. I would consider me and my ex to be friends, however, I allowed myself to get over the relationship first. The relationship with this particular guy was not of enough significance to consider him an ex, so how do I apply this to the situation at hand? I found myself questioning where these feelings would go if we were no longer interested in each other romantically. I wondered if we were never really something how was this relationship supposed to fall back from being one that did not have a label to suddenly being a relationship that did have a label, a label of friends. It felt like labeling it as friends was almost more of a commitment. What was the expectation of us being friends, were there any? A lot of times the label friends is just given to keep things cordial and to have things end on a good note. He reassured me that was not his intention while being friends and that he still wanted to talk and continue to share things. Here I am though knowing from past experiences that trying to be friends with someone I have a crush on will not end well for me but wondering if it will hurt the same as in previous situations if this time I prepare myself. Now I am left with not only grieving a romantic interest but a loss of what could have been a good friendship if I had given myself space to heal. Do you think if I had grabbed the electric fence again I would have found myself wanting to grab it a third time? or will the next time I am presented with the opportunity to make a clear and healthy decision for myself I will have the willpower to do it. If I think more about the situation though I will explode because I appreciate the time we had but still hurt. Below I attached a picture I took while visiting the aquarium this weekend with my ex because we are friends lol.
The wounds of growing up being treated as unattractive and being black in a predominantly white space are not easy to recover from. I truly did not understand that I was pretty until well past my formative years and now I find myself obsessed with my appearance. The only word that comes to mind to describe how I feel is vain but that does not feel like the right word to use. Maybe saying I am obsessed is overkill but I find myself having negative feelings about being seen when I do not feel attractive physically. I called a friend vain once in an attempt to be cruel. I think I meant it in a way that I thought she was beautiful and she seemed secure in herself, whereas I was not. So to be mean I called her vain, not understanding the that you could look good and feel good about it too. I feel guilty for it every day because I think my words hurt her, I was also like 15 so I forgive myself. I do not believe most 15 year olds are truly kind or secure but I can't help but feel guilty that my comments may be lasting in the same way I remember where all my insecurities stem from.
One of my earliest memories of something about my appearance being pointed out in a negative way was in fourth grade. I was maybe nine at this point I think and I had a crush on this boy who did not reciprocate it and in turn pointed out an insecurity I did not think to have yet. Crushes in elementary school were never serious, not that they should have been but in comparison to why and who I develop crushes on at 20 it makes me giggle. It was about who was the fastest, who had the coolest shoes, and who had dimples ( I have only one dimple so maybe this is why nobody had a crush on me). All things based on surface level things that are outwardly apparent. I rarely care how cool people's shoes are now or how fast they are when considering if I genuinely like them now. My ex would wear socks and teva sandals in great frequency and I never said anything even though if you made him stand behind a curtain next to my grandpa with only their feet visible they would have been indistinguishable. These things that mattered so much in adolescence matter so little now so why am I still so conscious of comments made over a decade ago. He pointed out the peach fuzz above my lip, I am not a particularly hairy individual and even if I had been it is something everybody has so why am I so bothered by hair on my body and face still to this day. I still find myself focused on it but maybe not as concerned that someone will see me and think wow that girl has hair how gross!!! I mean that I still buy those silly little pink facial razors they market to women but when I notice this feature on other people it is never something I look at and think it has any impact on their beauty. I think this incident with the boy from fourth grade opened my eyes to the issue of being conscious of body hair as a woman a lot earlier than society tells us to. It prepared me greatly though for this issue during middle school and the stress of shaving my legs for the first time.
Another memory of my appearance being pointed out in a negative way is my sophomore year of high school, my high school in Iowa. I look back at pictures and you can tell this was a time when my concern with appearance became more prevalent. I started wearing mascara regularly and always had my hair done. I was not necessarily secure in my looks yet but I had finally caught onto the fact that your appearance changes how people treat you. This specific incident involved a boy who I would have considered my friend at the time. It occurred during first period I think, it was my English class and I sat across from him. I had just gotten my hair done in braids, shoulder length box braids. I really liked them and was happy to have my hair done. He took a picture of me sitting across from him and captioned it “this bitch looks like chief keef . He sent it to some group chat with other boys in my grade. I was not particularly popular but my school was small enough that everyone knew each other, so one of the boys in the group chat sent it to me. I am not really sure why he sent it to me and I do not think it was out of the goodness of his heart. I just remember feeling so upset I called my mom and made her pick me up from school and told her I felt unwell. I just went home and cried, my mom knew I wasn't sick but still let me come home early. My mom eventually got it out of me why I was so upset and told his mom (small town again everyone knows each other). His mom made him apologize to me, I refused to see him, so a text message sufficed. It was incredibly uncomfortable to return to class every day after that and I am constantly reminded by myself anytime I get my hair done that my appearance is constantly being scrutinized. At the time I was more upset about the dig at my looks and being considered masculine and attractive. Today though I think I'm a little more mad he referred to me as bitch, maybe tomorrow I will be mad again about the exhausting existence of being a black woman. I'll be mad at the standard we are held to and how people who don't understand intersectionality do not stop to consider their equation of whiteness to femininity and blackness to masculinity and despite many black women being hyper feminine they will never escape the views of people like Kyle Jeffrey.
It's taken a lot for me to learn to appreciate how I look and know my self worth and value are not based on appearance. So you would think I worked the same way to be secure when it comes to things not regarding my appearance but I still feel myself feeling like a reflection of how people treat me. What's the word for this, insecure, no low self esteem, whatever translates to loving myself physically most of the time but feeling bad about who I am as a person due to my need for others' validation. So after thinking, maybe vain is the correct word for me. Until I learn to appreciate myself as a whole person and stop engaging with people who make me feel lesser than and treat me as lesser than, I am vain. I will learn to not be vain as I practice appreciation for who I am despite allowing myself to be in repeated situations due to low self esteem, the same way I learned with my appearance.
Who knew I could feel this blue? I’ll take it and hold it for as long as I need, until I find something great in it. Some of my favorite things are blue, the sky, the ocean, neptune, my mothers eyes, fire at the right temperature, morpho butterflies, my grief, all blue. Lucky me.
If I were a fruit I’d be a blood orange
The unexpected colors inside of me bleed
When poked and prodded by those with the intention to know me.
I often find myself writing my thoughts into the notes apps throughout the day. I think about a lot of different things in an almost alarming frequency, my internal monologue is almost always spiraling. I was walking the other day and smelled the combination of cigarettes and fresh laundry. The scent was so familiar and reminded me of something, I just couldn't pin it. Nobody in my life smokes regularly and it was more than just the scent of smoke. When I got home I was able to place it to this apartment complex I lived in briefly when I was like 4 with my ex stepdad mom and older sibling. The halls always smelled vaguely of cigarettes and laundry, I realize now that I didn't really register that the scent was cigarettes as a child. I did not register the fact that there was communal laundry, and in unit laundry was a luxury(as I look at my in unit laundry and feel eternally grateful). I wasn't sure if I was thinking about this so hard because I was feeling mentally foggy or because sometimes I do not explore my thoughts as deeply as I would like. Even if these thoughts end up being kind of pointless conclusions like the familiar scent from my childhood was just the combination of laundry and cigarette smoke (yet here I am writing a paragraph analyzing this brief moment from my daily walk).
I wanted to start a blog as an outlet, for when I have thoughts I want to reflect on and share but can not find the courage or one particular person to bother with my revelations (this comes after I stopped talking to a guy, where were these thoughts supposed to go now!). I could just text a friend or a loved one but we have much more important things to talk about than my recent revelation about how martinis are just gin and an olive, I think? And how stupid I think that is to drink olive and gin (why is this such a popular drink?). I also wanted to document important thoughts and happenings as an exercise of reflection and gratitude. I have a photo dump account where I document my living through photos, but my words mean a lot as well. Anyway, I didn't proofread this. Hopefully this makes sense. I probably will not publicly share this with the masses for a while. Picture below from my walk of a beer garden me and my mom ate at while she was visiting, it was OK. I don't really recommend.
