Me First

We sat in our seats on our way to the Bahamas with everyone I considered important at the time. I knew how much my mother had worked to make it happen for the 9 people that made up our traveling party. So, when the flight attendant told her "In the event of an emergency, make sure you secure your mask first." I didn't understand. My mother sacrifices everything for me and my siblings. And as a mother, she would surely give her life such that the life of one of her children be saved. So, why would she leave me gasping for air...suffocating...while she secures her mask? Why would she not make sure that I could breathe first? I was a child and as bright as I was the bulb dimmed on this one for a moment. And I must honestly say that I don't remember when I realized that she would not be able to secure breathing for me if she was not breathing. But, when I learn my lessons I really learn my lessons.

I have carried the concept of me first into my adulthood. Sometimes seen as selfishness, it is anything but. My focus on me does not represent a disinterest in you. It represents a determination to attend to myself in order that I am better able to be attentive to you. I take care of me in order to be there for you.

I am not the mother that will dress her children in designer clothes, the latest shoes, ipods, smartphones and new hairdos while I look like a "raggamuffin". I used to understand but, resent that my mother would shop at Saks Fifth Avenue for herself and Ventures or Payless for her children. But, now I get it. She put her mask on first so that she could later put on our masks. She had to dress the part of corporate america and in order to succeed, she needed to look like she belonged. If she belonged, she won the contract, we lived in a beautiful home and had what we needed.

So, I will buy my designer jeans at a few hundred each because I fit. I fit with the other models with whom I compete. I look the part and am thus booked for more parts. I buy my jeans. I book the gig. I buy their jeans (on sale, of course).

I take care of myself first...in order that I may take care of my children. I may one day have to sacrifice my life for my children and in many ways have already done such. After all I can gaurantee you that I would not be where I am were it not for the needs of my three most precious possesions. Yet, as much as I am willing to sacrifice, it serves no good if I sacrifice my "self".


Selfish mom/friend or loving mom/friend? You decide. But, in my mind it will always be Me First!!!

Maybe I am Wrong

I am a firm believer of what I believe and pride myself on knowing what I know. Yet, I am finding myself pulling back and passing the buck. I am the one that people come to for advice on relationships, family, kids, babies, punishments (there I go with the lists) and I am finding that I don't want to be the one to give the advice. I don't want to have the answers or know the right/ethical way to handle an issue. I don't want to be expected to know where to look for the definiton...we all have dictionaries.

Because...maybe I am wrong. Maybe he is right for you regardless of how many times you have tried to make the relationship work. Maybe another try is just what you and she need. Maybe others don't receive you the way I perceive you and you don't need to make any adjustments to your personality or presence. Maybe I am wrong in my assumptions or understandings. Perhaps your design doesn't need to be tweaked to meet composition norms or your resume is fine how it is.

From my perspective I am right. However, I embrace the idea that there is more than one perspective. There is more than one way of looking at things and if I truly believe that there is some truth in all sides of the story then I have to follow that with an understanding that I Just Might Be Wrong!

Now, if I apply this reasoning to you...then there is an equal possibility that you are not without fault/guilt in assuming that you have the answers. And there is a possibility, no matter how slight, that you, too...JUST MIGHT BE WRONG!

Beauty in the Eye Of

I am a model and have been for longer than I can remember at this point. It was never my goal to become a model. I remember wanting to be an international lawyer traveling the world and being well respected in corporate circles. There would be business meetings with tailored suits and galas with sequined dresses and a cocktail in my hand. I would be married and have a nanny for my 11 children. I didn't really put much into who or what my husband would be and I sometimes wonder if I knew then that I would be a single mom. Regardless, I was not a model...I was a business woman.

Now, I am a model. At some point, someone decided that the skinny, flat chested, full lipped Kai should be on a runway. Actually, I suppose I don't blame them. My mother taught me how to walk...to move as if I am proud of me and know where I am going. My head is held high. My back is straight. My stomach is held strong to support my core. My shoulders are unslumped. I am tall and thin and determined to be seen. Yet, I don't want to be seen on the superficial level, I want to be truly seen and heard and respected for my sometimes quirky outlook.

I am a model. Seen for beauty first where my eyes don't always see beauty. I am a model and yet, I have not always been a witness to my own beauty and therefore find it difficult to accept the complement of being a model. I find myself in a room with absolutely gorgeous women and sometimes wonder what the hell I am doing there. I feel like the outsider. The one that got in through some sort of quota...they just needed one like me.

I am a model yet, I am not a model. Modeling is what I do. I don't want to be defined by what you think of models. I want to be defined by my contributions to others, my love for my family, devotion to friends, educational accomplishments, my perseverance, my internal strength....not by an outward beauty that I don't see. I want to witness me.

Funny thing is that it never bothered me that I wasn't the gorgeous one. I was content with being average. And the other day I was speaking to a friend from high school who, after seeing my picture, told me that she "doesn't remember me being that pretty." I told her my most heartfelt truth..."Neither do I".

But, when I least expect it I get a glimpse of that fine ass sistah in the mirror. And I see.

Simple Complexity

Just a quick thought before I go to bed as I am concerned that some of you reading my posts may get the idea that I am not completely aware of the complexity of some issues about which I speak.  So, to clear the record and relieve a few I wanted to make it clear that I am sometimes frustrated by the simplest part of a very complex issue.  

For example, I know the trickle down effect of decisions made that have led to the economic woes of today.  I understand that it is a far reaching tragedy that has an impact on ALL Americans and not just the homeowning ones (yes, homeowning is a new word in the Dictionary of Kai Volume 1,  3rd Edition).  

I understand the tightened credit market that is forcing businesses to close; the unemployment and jobless record highs; the layoffs and cutbacks.  And, I understand that all that are losing their homes did not buy in the time of easy credit and no down payments.  There are certainly those that are losing their homes because they have lost their jobs because their company has closed because they couldn't keep up with demand because they weren't able to maintain inventory because their credit was reduced or frozen because far too many people were defaulting on loans because far too many received loans that they shouldn't have gotten because banks took risks and those risks didn't pay off which led to people defaulting, tightening credit, no inventory, slow sales, layoffs, cutbacks, no money to pay the mortgage, foreclosures.  Basically, I get it.  And in the end; in a moment of frustration with the failed and failing economy, I don't want to hear about rescuing people who shouldn't have signed on that damn dotted line regardless of what the banks were willing to offer.  I get it....AND I still get frustrated.  (Just not at everyone)