What if the one occupying your thoughts isn’t the one you gave your heart to?
I like writing about love because I remember a time when I used to hate it, belittle & constantly make fun of it. I genuinly didn’t get it. I didn’t get love or people in love. I didn’t get romance or that crazy stupid love people talk about. Not until I experienced it myself. Love is incredibly beautiful, and ugly, and confusing and scary and painful. Every emotion you know is experienced under the name of love. You sometimes want to write about it and scream it to the world. Other times you just want to cuss it.
However, the one constant thing is, you always want it to succeed. You want to see love bloom. You want it to traimph hate and every negative emotion known to you. You cling to it like hope and pray for it like a good friend or a child.
I saw a show about racism & colorism the other day & my mind dove into a labyrinth trying to find out the basis of them & whatnot right after. Everything’s theoretical but I think it must have a lot to do with our endogenous need for belonging, which probably arose as a survival tactic. Same is safe, odd is not.
I started reflecting on times when I was a child because I thought if this racism & need for belonging is primitive, then it should exist in us as children as well. What we do as children, we do spontaneously. We don’t know the cause behind our likes & dislikes for example, nor do we look for a cause for them.
So I traced back to a clear memory from my childhood, which is the cartoon characters I liked the most. I remembered how out of all the Disney princesses & characters, Esmeralda & Pocahontas were my favorites. I had PJs with their pictures & I even dressed as Esmeralda for Halloween. Not Cinderella, the sleeping beauty or Bella, but Esmeralda, who wasn’t even the lead character in the movie . There was no clear reason behind it, or at least not one that I was consciously aware of at that time. I started thinking what’s common between the two? Skin tone. Both had closer skin tones to mine. My mother’s skin is fair, my dad’s dark & I never saw them as their skin tones so it’s not something I learned from them, yet when I chose favorites, I chose those who resembled me the most. We do this everyday with characters, fictional or real, who we think resemble us most. We connect better with them, we pay them extra attention & if we can or had to, we’d defend them. When we allow ourselves to think of why, that’s when we consciously try to suppress that need. We empower our rationale & allow it to take over. What’s primitive should be left for primitives. We need to aspire beyond that.
Would you rather have an open mind in a world full of closed ones? Or would you rather live with the peace of never knowing the difference?