What Nobody Told Me About College (Part 1)

WRITTEN: June 2009...SHARED: August 2010


1. Religion

…can be an overrated, polluted, and is often an opportunity to abuse power. When I started college, in 2004, I was already so in love with God. My relationship with Him was simple and based on trust. At the age of eighteen, I did not truly understand the importance of reading the Word, fasting, or any other of the “hubbub” that so many “churched” students created a fuss about once I got to school. I’d always been to churches where the message was the meat of the experience. I had loved being at church, going to vacation bible school, and being around believers…until I arrived in Greensboro.

Freshman year, I started visiting churches in an attempt to stay active like I’d been my entire life. I met a couple young ladies on campus who were already “ministers” in their own right and seeking students (stalking students) who seemed slightly vulnerable or in need of some guidance. Though I’ve always had a mind of my own, I was suffering from homesickness and craved the familiarity and comfort I’d always found in church.

There were two groups of young black women when I started school, those who were in Christ and those who were in the club. The “Christ-like” women were mature, conservative, and (as I later learned) extremists. The “Club-goers” were empty, desperate, and expired by the end of freshman year. I was pursued heavily by recruiters for each group. I dipped and dapped in both areas. But going to the club on Wednesday, then waking up for a 9:30 class on Thursday just didn’t work for me. I wasn’t raised that way. In my mama’s house, everyone was asleep by 11:00pm, Monday through Thursday. Naturally, when I first moved away from home, I wanted to test the waters. Eventually, I discovered that the waters were cold and I was more comfortable being a home-body. I wasn’t completely innocent though. I was young, slim, and outrageously social. My confidence was unmatched on campus. I’d lost forty pounds the summer before college began and I was tiny. My skirts were tinier. By November of 2004, I had at least 8 gentlemen on rotation. My entertainment came to me. I shared a room with a young woman who was excessively religious, involved in Gospel choir, and every other ministry on campus. I couldn’t stand her. She was a hypocrite. I was convinced that she wanted to be me, but she also used religion to persecute me.

Most of the young ladies, who were heavily involved with church, were viciously unattractive. I was expected to pick sides. I was told that I could be desirable or sanctified, but not both. My roommate was no exception to the rule. Physically, she was lacking the assets most brothers on campus whispered about and longed for. Bitterness surfaced in our room often and she would quietly reprimand my actions or mention that she was “praying” for my deliverance. I hated her. A year in that room would confuse even the strongest of personalities. I started to question myself. When I attempted to have guys drop by the room, she responded with discomfort and envy. I thought she was pathetic. I spent a lot of nights in the parlor of the dormitory, studying and talking on my cell phone. But, I started to wonder if I needed prayer and if I was doing something wrong. I started attending on-campus bible studies as well as weekly church services at a small church on the East side.

[I met both of my college sweethearts at that church…and that is all I gained from that experience].

After a few months, I moved on to a more impressive mega-church that hosted a massive college population. Let’s just call the church “EF”, a house of lies and corruption and stage lights, not a house of God.

EF is the church that nobody warns you about. If they do, you probably can’t hear their warnings over the big concerts and flashy fundraisers. It is the church that you spend hundreds of dollars (in both retail and real therapy) trying to forget. But there aren’t enough shoes, vacations, or Coach Bags in the world. There aren’t enough therapy sessions and certainly not enough fake friends. I will never forget EF or the corrupt Christians who “worship” there. I will never forget the burning sting of persecution or the burning sensation that accompanies betrayal. I started going to the church to grow in love and gain a church family, but I lost so much more than I gained. I don’t regret visiting that church, however; I learned an important lesson while I was there. I realized, hundreds of dollars later, that God lives within. No one can tell anyone else how to experience and celebrate His love. No one can censor Him or translate for Him. God is a gift, for the least of us and the greatest of us. I am more in love with Him now than I have ever been. I am not an extremist. I am not judgmental and hateful like those ugly people who tried to break me. I am not wandering, in search for answers and truth. I am confirmed in Christ. I am seeking Him for myself.

The Ultimate Lesson? Never, ever go through people to get to God. Call him on the mainline and just tell Him what you want.

Frozen by Fear.

Every night, I plot a scheme to take over the world. I am the Brain behind an operation that could change history. I'm capable of building brands, changing lives, and uplifting entire nations. I chuckle quietly. I'm dangerous and fearless...as I write on the tablet within my mind. I chart out a timeline and I count (in my imagination) the millions of dollars that I will, one day, accumulate because I am a genius. Because my ideas will reconstruct America. Because I am of a chosen generation. Because my vision is based on promises from heaven...

Then...every morning, I surrender to my exhaustion. I remove my superwoman cape that I wear in my dreams and I replace my heroine mask with a simple grey blouse that matches my safe kitten heels. Then I turn on the coffee maker and wait for my chocolate-tinted, liquid addiction to settle in to a pot that will cradle my energy booster until I'm out of my morning shower and ready to gulp it down. I tease my golden highlights and I make sure I have my lip gloss in my purse. Then I go to work.
9 hours later, I arrive back at home...and I start brainstorming again...

This is my process. I am a self-proclaimed, fear-frozen genius. My plans are immaculate, impressive and intended to change the world. But I can't even figure out how to change my attitude about success. Because, in my opinion, once you succeed...you have no choice but to keep succeeding. Life is easy when no one knows your name, when no one notices you. But as soon as you've accomplished something(whether you've been on a reality show, won a talent search, or rescued a cat from a tree) people watch your life waiting for your next big stunt.

I'm afraid to succeed, because I'm afraid I may not have enough ambition to last the rest of my life. That may sound crazy...but I swear that every time I start a project...I start sweating profusely when I imagine the outcome. "What if" is like a gremlin in a scary movie that taunts me in my slumber. "What if" is the phrase that is going to kill me. Because "what if" is prohibiting me from living my life to the fullest. I am a just a heap of potential, stinking up the Earth's surface and taking up space. Take it from me, allowing fear to prevent you from accomplishing what you were put here to accomplish is pathetic.

I often wonder if anyone will ever see who I really am and what I'm really capable of contributing. Or will I always dream at night then try to blend in and avoid causing any ruckus throughout the day? I can't even figure out exactly why success is so terrifying...I don't know why all of my best ideas are still in notebooks. But slowly, over the years, I've stopped talking about what I dream of doing while I'm here on Earth. I've started to mimic my mother and talk about what's "not practical".

And I hate it. I make lists of little things I should do to get closer to my dreams. But those lists get lost beneath the bills, the grocery lists, and the "what ifs".

I'm convinced that the only way to thaw the fear...to avoid being frozen and stagnant forever...is to keep dreaming, no matter what, and then allow those dreams to dominate both the days and the nights. I have to stop shutting down my free spirit in order to get through the days and blend in with my co-workers. I have to use every free minute to chase my dreams...while managing to earn a paycheck. I have to realize that fear can be the fuel I need because we can use fear as the fire beneath our butts. Eventually, we'll get so tired of being afraid that we'll run, like wild beasts, toward everything we've ever wanted. Because the worst that could happen, has already happened. If you're anything like me, you have a tendency to sit around...not accomplishing anything significant. And nothing (NOTHING) is worse than that.