EnShanté

One thing I’m trying to understand nowadays is that every moment of tension doesn’t deserve a period; sometimes, what you really need is a semicolon. I’m the type of person who will dislike the fuck out of you for one moment and never look back. The moment could be something like: you got snappy with me unprovoked (I can’t stand people who randomly catch attitudes), or you threw some sarcasm or condescension my way. It doesn’t matter how many positive moments we’ve shared; unless you’re an immediate family member, that one negative moment has the power to erase all of them.

I used to view this behavior as a way to protect myself from being taken advantage of, but I now wonder if it’s my way of rejecting people before they can reject me. I took a 16 Personalities test and looked up my natal chart a few months ago and both were extremely accurate. Something that stood out on each was how sensitive and insecure a person with my traits can be. I hate to admit it, but I am sensitive and insecure about friendships. Friendships have always been a point of discomfort for me because I’ve always felt like the only person working to maintain the friendship. I think I’ve also always felt a little misunderstood and rejected by people. Two pivotal moments that are essential to understanding where my sensitivity and insecurity come from are: girls in my neighborhood trying to ostracize me and a girl in college lying to avoid hanging out with me (that one still makes me cringe).

Neighborhood Girls

I grew up on the Upper West Side of Manhattan in a very close-knit community. We’d have building-wide water fights, cookouts, and epic manhunt games. It was fun. As we got older, I realized that the girls I hung out with, seemingly under the leadership of one, would be inconsistent with me. Sometimes they would speak, sometimes they wouldn’t. When I was 11 or 12 years old, one of them wrote “Shantay is a bitch” on my mailbox. My mom tried to hide it, but I had already seen it. The conversation that followed between my mom and I went something like this:

“I already saw it, ma. It’s okay.”

“Ugh, I was hoping you didn’t see it before I removed it.”

“They spelled my name wrong. They’re so stupid.”

I corrected the spelling of my name and moved on. I often credit this moment as the moment that I realized I knew exactly who I was but, peeling the onion back a little further, I now see that it was also the moment I hardened. I retreated into my shell and only came out when I wanted to. I became less outgoing with people and socialized within my comfort zone. 

College Girl

It was the beginning of SummerStart, a six-week program that helps incoming first-year students at Syracuse University transition into college before the fall semester, and I was anxious about making new friends. I met a girl who seemed cool, and we hung out once or twice. A day or so after the last hangout, I called to see if she wanted to go get something to eat, and she was like, “No, that place is closed.” I knew that was a lie, and I thought it was odd that she lied, but I didn’t think much of it. I grabbed my things, walked toward the food court, and as I approached, I saw her eating with someone else. I never understood why she opted to lie, and I never asked because, whatever her reasoning, it didn’t concern me. Her reaction, a mixture of surprise and guilt, confirmed that I wasn’t buggin’, and her behavior was weird. I didn’t feel like the moment was worth addressing, so I just said “Hey” and kept it moving. Besides a few pleasantries, I don’t think I ever spoke to her again. I didn’t have a reason to.

As minute (and silly) as that moment was, it had a noticeable impact on the way that I socialized in college. Instead of actively making friends — throwing myself into social settings every chance I got —, I became friends with people who were in proximity to me (a topic that deserves its own post). That silly moment reaffirmed the need for the shell that I found comfort in after “Mailboxgate.”

Parting Thoughts

Anyways, I say all of this to acknowledge that I’ve got some work to do. I don’t want to be the type of person who views or treats people as if they’re disposable, so I’m changing. One thing I’m going to do to support this goal is practice sharing my feelings more. I always feel like certain conversations aren’t worth having because the people that I’d be having them with are temporary, but what if the tension that sparked the conversation is what’s temporary? We’ll see. Wish me luck!