We are bursting through the barricades and
Reaching for the sun (we are warriors)
Yeah, that's what we've become (yeah, that's what we've become)
I won't let them break me down to dust
I know that there's a place for us
For we are glorious
When the sharpest words wanna cut me down
I'm gonna send a flood, gonna drown them out
I am brave, I am bruised
I am who I'm meant to be, this is me
Look out 'cause here I come
And I'm marching on to the beat I drum
I'm not scared to be seen
I make no apologies
This is me
"This is Me" - Keala Settle
A few years ago I was randomly asked to describe myself using 3 fictional characters. I texted:
Nani (Lilo & Stitch) - Motherly and witty.
Nakoma (Pocahontas) - Voice of reason and loyal.
Nala (The Lion King) - Compassionate and full of sass.
I remember soon after scrolling through Facebook and noticed people doing the same exercise except they were commonly naming disney princesses, super heroes and main characters in TV shows/Movies.
Then it dawned on me: all the characters I named were sidekicks.
A lot of times in life I feel like I’m stuck in this cycle of being a supporting character and not the protagonist in a story. Always a side kick and never the hero.
One of my critiques for the film "The Greatest Showman" (which I loooove!!!) is that they could have made so much more out of the character development for the bearded lady Lettie Lutz played by Keala Settle #PasifikaMovement.
"This is Me" would have made a deeper impact if we witnessed a few more scenes of Lettie's life prior to her singing the hell outta that beautiful song.
All we needed was a 2 minute montage, a collection of her lifes glimpses juxtaposed by the magnificence that she has now epiphanised herself to be.
So on behalf of all my fellow side kicking Lettie Lutz's of the world, here's my two minute montage:
When I was kid I stood on a brick wall in the middle of the Onehunga street mall, spread my arms out wide and jumped with the utmost confidence that I would fly as I screamed "SUPERMAN". I flew straight onto my face and have a scar in the middle of my bottom lip to prove it.
I hate yellow bananas.
Reading books is my thing – it’s my budget way to travel, my research O.G before google, my means of escape and a portal to help me understand the experiences of others.
I listen to music all the damn time
I have a tendency to yell ice cream mid-sentence of someone asking what my favourite food is, an uncontrollable inclination to move whenever I hear a beat, a thirst for awareness/ understanding, a next-level-embarrassing fear of heights, a suffocating hug and a weird habit of licking the flavour off of chips before downing them.
I love inspiration received in moments of quiet reflection. Whether it be on a crowded train or in the silence of my room - the dots start to connect, my heart and mind synchronise, and light slowly pours into my being.
My dad gee'd me up one time at a shopping mall beat boxing competition. I walked onto the stage and literally spit pfft pfft pfft into the mic. I went home feeling chuffed as hell with a walkman hot in my pocket from pity winning first place.
Random solemn moments reaffirming to me time and time again that there is a God.
He is real.
He knows me.
Out of all the titles he is known to be from The Almighty to Allah - to me he is Father.
I finally conquered my fear and learnt to ride a two wheel bicycle at the tender age of 22yrs old - this is cover-my-face-shake-my-head-worthy.
I believe crying and laughing are the best forms of medicine - I regularly self-medicate and alternate between the two.
Laughing is my favourite thing to do.
I feel like God put this amazing little mechanism called laughter somewhere between my heart and my throat. Disclaimer: I have no idea if that is biologically correct, but it feels like it is.
Jarod Kintz said laughter is the sound of the soul dancing. If that’s the case, then my soul has an Everest sized mountain of worn out dance shoes and a comparable sized pile yet to be used.
I made my sisters lives a living hell growing up.
I read somewhere that people usually hurt others in an attempt to feel better. I projected my damaged soul, insecurities and feelings of worthlessness onto them. I still cry out of regret when I reflect on how mean spirited and hurtful I was.
There’s something liberating about dancing like a madman in the rain.
My dysfunctional family give me life with their myriad of personalities, inside jokes, mocks of death, struggle street stories, life lessons, memories, drama and love. My heartstrings are forever tethered to theirs regardless of where we are literally and figuratively in life.
I'm opinionated and have no problem voicing my sentiments - fist bump to the Hermione Grangers of the world.
When I was 13yrs old my mum was teaching an early morning class called seminary for our church.
There was about 30 of us in the class and we all ranged between the ages of 13-18yrs old.
Because there were so many of us mum seated us in rows according to age, I was seated smack bang in the middle of the front row.
My beautiful mum has hearing issues so the kids would regularly tease her under their breath and laugh because she couldn't hear them.
I would burn with embarrassment, pretend I couldn't hear and act like nothing happened.
One morning the eldest kid in class seated in the back row started mocking mum. The whole room erupted in laughter.
I summoned a small ounce of courage, shakily got up from my seat, turned around, pointed my finger at him and yelled:
"SHUT UP AND STOP TALKING ABOUT MY MUM!"
The room went dead silent
*SLAP*
I was stunned...mum slapped the shiieee outta me.
I immediately sat down, placed my forehead on the table, covered my head with my arms and cried.
I wept out of embarrassment and prayed a sinkhole would crack open the floor and swallow me hole.
After a few minutes of crying I took comfort in this one truth: I finally defended the person I love most in the world and that was all that mattered.
I believe that the majority of my talents are obscure or hidden, roasting is probably at the top of the list #SavageLifeChoseMe
*aaaand scene*
In a world full of people clamouring to be Beyonce, we seem to give side eye glances to the Kellys and Michelles of the world.
But Beyonce would not be Beyonce without the harmonious friendship of Kelly and Michelle.
Lilo would have been a ward of the state if her older sister Nani didn't fight to love her regardless of parental loss, financial struggle and childlike shenanigans.
Nakoma's voice of reason helped comfort and ground the free-spirited Pocahontas.
Simba would still be walking around the wopwops suffocating on Pumba's farts if Nala didn't breathe love into him and remind him of his worth as a son of a king.
A few days ago I was having a talk with my sister and she said that sometimes we get so caught up with trying to find ourselves that we forget we can create ourselves.
In the pursuit of fulfilling the measure of our creation we simultaneously fill the measure of our creation.
We all have good and bad experiences in our lives. However, the choice lies with us in how we use it to its full effect - whether for the betterment or detriment of our being.
When we consciously choose to use these for our gain, we invest the good and actively renovate the bad into a lesson and building block for character.
There is nothing wrong with being a side kick but there is if you're a side hoe.
At the end of the day, we're all supporting characters in another's story and have supporting characters in our own.
Just don't be satisfied standing in the shadows when it comes to the story of YOUR life.
Position yourself centre-stage.
Signal for the curtains of obscurity to draw open.
Step forward to let the spotlight shine on you.
Spread your arms wide and make your debut.
Happy Days
Sila
