I used to be pretty impulsive. Well, that’s probably putting it very nicely. Because not only was I impulsive, but I was irrationally impulsive. Which is probably worse. You’ll either love and admire my spontaneous nature and wish you could think more like me or you’ll hate and resent it because you can’t live your life the same way. There is no gray area.
Once I hit college, I calmed down a bit. It was partially because I didn’t have the same conditions in my life that caused me to be so impulsive in the first place. It was partially because my sister spent a lot of time talking a lot of sense into me when I wanted to do a lot of craziness when we first got to Howard. And it was partially because I didn’t wanna be That Girl anymore. You know, the one that is reliably unstable? The nomad, the vagabond. I’ve been called a free spirit more times than I can count.
So maybe I think a lil outside the box. Maybe I live my life and govern myself a lil differently than others. But still…
Throughout my years at Howard, I grew to become much calmer, much more poised, far more thoughtful than impulsive. I took it as a sign that I was growing up, that I was becoming far less hood than I’d been in the past, lol.
But then, something happened.
During senior year I noticed I’d do little things that I hadn’t done in years. My temper wasn’t as in check as it had been. What little tact I did have had all but gone to shit. I’d say and do just about anything without thinking it all the way through because, dammit, I didn’t want to. I was tired of thinking. I wanted to DO.
It felt great.
Even now, I find myself doing and things that this time last year I’d never even think of. Case and point, yesterday as the old white man decided he wanted to step off the curb as I was driving down the street and then HIT the window of my truck what do I do? I throw my shit in park and get outta my car cussin’. After I got back in the truck and drove away, I had to giggle at myself. And then I was full on hysterically laughing so hard I had to pull over because I couldn’t stop saying to myself, “Girl what were you THINKING?!?!”
But it felt sooo good.
Did I really not change or mature like I thought? Or did I just repress my nature only to have it fight it’s way out again?
I’m not sure at this point. But sometimes I feel like I’m bursting at the seams. And sometimes I don’t think I ever had seems to begin with, just hastily folded corners, reinforced with old scotch tape that aren’t really holding up now.
And I’m kinda excited about that too.
It feels so good to be back.