I’m happy with the way I am!

It’s been a long time since I last posted on here, but I finally got myself to sit down and write something. This topic has been on my mind for a while now, so it was good to finally get it down on paper (or screen, whatever…). Enjoy!

There’s lots of things about us humans that makes me wish I weren’t one, but today I’m going to talk about a certain one. When something looks different, we think it is. In a lot of cases that’s true. For example green apples tend to be more sour than red ones. But in some cases it isn’t like how some people have dark skin and others have light. 

Years ago people with dark skin were considered lesser, eventually we figured out that that was completely silly. It took some people longer to figure that out and in the US we ended up having a whole war over it. Some countries managed it easier than us Canada and England for example. I feel like Americans tend to make excuses for that, but nothing can be said or done to justify the cruelty that was inflicted by humans on their fellow humans. But I’m not here to give a history lesson, I’m here to talk about what I’ve been noticing lately: the attitude of the majority of light skinned humans towards dark skinned humans has gone from ‘They aren’t even human!’ to ‘They are less than us.’ to ‘Okay fine, maybe we are the same.’ to ‘We were wrong, forgive us.’ until now I hear ‘You were wronged, so in payment for that you can have whatever job you want, including my own because my great-great-great-great-great-grandfather possibly listened when his Daddy told him that he wasn’t the same as his best friend.’. Do you see my point? In the United States the white male often has the hardest time getting a job. We are going from one extreme to the other! I’m not saying that I am better than my dark skinned best friends! I’m just saying that maybe instead of trying to make of for our ancestor’s sins we should wipe the slate clean. 

We’re all equal: dark, light, brown, yellow, and red. We’re all beautiful, amazing, talented creatures. Always learning, inventing, progressing, sometimes slowly, but we never stop completely. We do it together. We always have, and we always should. I have as much right to a job as anyone else of any skin color. Sure, some white men murdered blacks simply because of the way they looked, but others gave their lives for them. We, all of humanity, need to look to the future instead of worrying about our past. 

Thanks to plastic surgery, dye, and contacts, we can now change what we look like. Probably somewhere in the near future we’ll be able to choose absolutely everything about what we look like, including our skin. But I don’t want that to happen. I wish we could all embrace ourselves for the way we are. I’m not the prettiest girl on the planet, so it’s not like it’s really easy for me to say that. But I have decided to be happy with the way I am. I paint my nails (who can resist a little bit of sparkle or flash of color?) and I’ll probably wear a little bit of makeup when I’m older, but I’ll never dye my ugly brown hair. Even if I had the money for it I’d never get plastic surgery to change my way-too-wide nose. I’ll never get colored contacts just because my eyes are a little too gray. And if they come up with a way to change my skin color, you know what I’ll say to that.

Eternal Love

Here is my first ever memoir. I was inspired by a traumatic experience (aren’t they the best inspiration ever?) and wrote this within an hour. My first ever completed writing piece!

 

By the time the screen door slams behind me I’m already down the porch steps.

“Kona!” I shout looking through the moonlit trees. I look around myself and realize that I ran right past the large four year old golden retriever that I was looking for. She was our friend’s dog, but we were taking care of her while they were on vacation. I smile at her.

“Come on Kona, it’s time to go in the garage.” I call her again, but she just looks at me lazily.

We kept her in the garage at night to keep her safe from the occasional bears who loved the apples from our orchard. I change my voice to a sterner tone, but it has no effect on her. I kneel down and scratch her behind her ears, and then stand up, expecting her to get up immediately like usual.

“Kona, come!” I order, annoyed that she is being stubborn. Eager to get back inside away from the mosquitoes. I pull at her collar once or twice, with no response from her, and then pull harder. Quicker than I ever thought possible her jaws snap around my right hand.

A scream leaps from my lips. Pain streaks through my hand and adrenalin fills me, but  am unable to do anything. I scream again as she opens and closes her mouth again in a different spot. With my left hand I try to pull my right out of her mouth and in a flash my left hand is in her mouth instead. I notice that Siera another golden retriever that my big sister was in charge of putting in the garage is there and preparing to attack Kona.

Everything is in a blur. My hand is free from Kona’s mouth and I stumble back unable to think and screaming from the pain. I feel my sister’s firm hand around my arm as she pulls me up the stairs. It was all over in a few seconds. Daddy’s strong arms hold me has I hold one injured hand with the other. Everyone is around me, I’m in a chair, the pain is still overwhelming.

“It’s gonna be okay.” Daddy reassures me, and asks me what happened. As I continue to cry I manage to tell them that Kona bit me.

My sister’s 21 year old friend who is spending the night holds me up at the sink as she washes my hand. She tells me she is trying to be gentle, but I barely hear it. I just want to lie down, I just want the pain to stop. My tears are still pouring. Finally they let me lie down and she puts something on my hands and bandages them. They are talking to each other.

“It didn’t even bleed.” I hear Daddy say, “If Kona had meant to hurt her more, she would have, and nothing seems to be broken.” In my head I thank God for that.

I manage to tell them that I can’t feel my fingers. Daddy tells someone to put my feet on a pillow, and that I’m going into shock. He asks me if my hands are tingling and I nod. Over and over they repeat that I’m going to be okay, but I just want to go to sleep.

Finally I feel that I can sit up and I am given some sort of pill and water. I take it, and soon I go to my room and to bed. At first I can’t sleep because of the pain, but eventually I fall asleep from exhaustion.

It is already past eight when I wake up. My hands still hurt a lot but it’s bearable now. About an hour later I go outside and see Kona lying in the pathway. Siera, still a puppy, greets me happily. My heart pounds as the scene from last night plays through my head. But Kona’s thumping tail tells me that there is no reason to be scared. As I pet her I forgive her for everything. How could I not? Isn’t that what we did to Jesus? We wound him again and again with our sins even though we know they are wrong, yet he still forgives us.

“I will love you forever.” I whisper to Kona, “No matter what happens!”

About Me And This Blog

I am a aspiring Christian teenage author and I thought I’d create a blog to share some of the things I write (or at least attempt to). I started my first book when I was nine and have been working on it ever since, but I guess the only thing still keeping me trying to write it is that I hate quitting a job part way through, so maybe one day I’ll get it finished. If you would like to read what I have so far and hopefully give me encouragement you can email me at teenfullofthoughts@gmail.com and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.

Unfortunately my first book is not the only thing I’m struggling with. I am also in the process of writing two other books plus a fan fiction. I also enjoy writing memoirs and occasionally poems when I get the inspiration, and since I started guitar lessons last year I think I’ll be writing a few songs soon.

This blog will mainly have short memoirs and random pages of thoughts that are bursting out my head, but hopefully I’ll be able to keep it somewhat organized. How often I post will depend entirely on when I am inspired.