I’ve always smiled. I think it was my way of dealing with painful things, sort of like a defense mechanism. When the kids made fun of me in elementary school because my grandparents sent me to school in Payless shoes, I’d laugh right along with them. When boys called me ugly because of my dark skin, gaps in my teeth, and chubby build, I would laugh. When other girls talked about the boys they were dating and how they would sneak their boyfriends in, and laugh at me because I didn’t have a story to share, I would laugh, too. I mean what was the alternative? Cry? Laughing seemed a lot more fun. Plus, I learned how to not take myself so seriously. As I grew, this process of denying pain turned out to be an issue regarding my mental health. Pain is real. It hurts. That is okay to express. To say that hurts, or I don’t like that, is to be in control of oneself. To deny that truth is to deny yourself.
In retrospect, I can see how I let certain relationships rule my life because I wanted everything to be okay. I would laugh off extremely painful things. When I caught friends stealing my clothes or comparing themselves to me in a negative way, I would laugh. “Trinity, you look cute in that, but it would look better on me.” The mind is a powerful tool—it controls the entire body. Mental and spiritual health has more benefits then physical in many ways. If one constantly laughs off pain, they will be denying the truth. Denying truth forces the individual to remain a slave to the opinions and feelings of others. “You ugly,” “You’re stupid,” “You’re mean,” “You’re too black.” Laughter said I am that and I’m happy to be. It taught my brain this is normal, it is acceptable, and it is truth. Years of this training would prove to be extremely difficult to undo as an adult.
The benefit in this evasive laughter was that I also learned how to let things roll off my back, a skill necessary for a Queen to possess. My parents gave me a strong name. I am Queen. I would never let anyone call me that—I went by Trinity. My walk with God allowed me to hold the weight of that name. I realized I could never be a Queen of anything without being appointed. Without process, wisdom, and instructions from a trusted advisor, I was nothing. Jesus. He held all the answers to my life questions. There were seasons where I was so uncomfortable, I felt like I was alone. I kept praying. There were times that I would stand strong hoping and believing God for something and the opposite would happen. I kept trusting. Lady Wisdom would speak to my ignorance and I would challenge her, and yet I kept listening.
I willingly admitted my faults, my shortcomings, my insecurities to the Lord. Every morning I would speak to Him about my lack, my deficiencies. If I was jealous I would confess it quickly. If I was lustful I wouldn’t hide it from Him. I was working for the county, living in my own home, paying bills on time, raising my son. Just five years prior to this point in my life, I would spend nights in bed crying and asking God to provide these exact things for me. The process had showed me that I would have never been able to reach these goals without the Lord. Looking back, I remember how frustrated I was just trying to survive.
I went to college in order to provide a life for me and my son, but the realities of life hit after graduation. That’s the funny thing about life: you can have an idea of how it should work out, but you better be ready for reality. Reality is raw. Tough. It’s designed to crush the weak of heart. You will fall. You will fail. You will be wrong. Those are just a few guarantees. However, I learned for myself that God will work everything together for the good of those who trust and love Him. The first scripture my faith in Christ was built on was, “Seek ye first the kingdom of heaven and its righteousness and all these things shall be added unto you.”
This was perfect for me because my new life needed a beginning. Everything has a start and a finish. This world is so huge, where do you start? I would have anxiety attacks trying to answer that question. I changed majors in college and withdrew from so many classes trying to answer that question. I fell in and out of relationships trying to answer this question. I got into so many arguments with my grandparents just trying to answer this question. Where do I begin? The world will sell you many dreams. Go to college, get an education and become successful. Save your money and become rich. Become beautiful by any means necessary and become successful. Be surrounded by lots of friends and become successful. Get a wonderful loving spouse and become successful. There will also be lots of images that further drive home these “ways of truth” life offers. The idea is that you can somehow have ingredients that guarantee happiness and success, and yet life offers no road map.
As I sit in my bed and stare out my window, I reflect on how kind God has been to me. I believe now, looking back in retrospect, that He always desired to share space with me. He never intended for me to bump my head so many times, but he understood my persistence. He made a provision in advance that those same wounds would be keys to unlock doors in my future. Seeking Him first made no sense to me. I’ve always written Him poems, cries for help, for wisdom, for direction. I would get so angry at Him at times in the silence. I now understand the silence is a sign of His trust, His patience, His waiting for me to come to Him. He is my source of power, of instructions, of direction. If He does not speak, He is usually preparing the way for me. I need only be still. Patience. I remember after Kenya’s death sitting in my godmother’s living room and looking at her wall. She had a sign that read PATIENCE. I got so angry, like Lord, how long! I’m running out of patience. That was ten years ago. I laugh now when I think of the word. The last ten years of my life have been a lesson in waiting on the Lord.
Faith is the substance of things hoped for and the evidence of things not seen. In other words, faith is a form of preparation and an indication that God is up to something. I was born with a yearning to please. At twenty-nine years of age, I now understand it was built in me by God to serve Him and fulfill the call He has placed on my life. I used to think it was to please people. Friends, men, teachers, jobs. Not understanding your purpose or assignment can be frustrating. Keep asking, keep seeking the Lord for truth, for clarity. Five years ago, I made a vision board. I didn’t have any real plans or ideas in my brain at the time. I just cut out items from magazines that spoke to me. When it was completed, there were images of children, freedom, laughter, and design with earth tones and love. At the time I didn’t understand what it meant but a few years down the line, it would all make sense.
Before I got my job at the county, I worked for a nonprofit that was geared towards at-risk youth. Every time I had to write a paper in college about my career goals, it would be focused around serving children and youth in my community. When I was hired at the nonprofit, I was instantly in love. I enjoyed speaking hope into their lives. I was able to do it with power and authority because I had lived through it. One thing that really disturbed me was how rigged the systems were that affected these children who genuinely needed help. I literally was able to understand how certain people up top would much rather create a prison pipeline instead of investing in the communities and building the children up. I took the job at the county mainly because the job title had policy in it. I wanted to be in the room with those people who were making the big decisions. I wanted to look them in the eye and demand they let my people go. Working in those destitute and hopeless environments is the place God gave me my crown. All the laughter through the pain in my life was simple preparation for my purpose. I would wear the crown with joy, and teach my people that true joy comes from the Lord. This is how we would persevere and laugh in the face of fear and danger. I was Queen, and my time had finally come.