I’ve learned that my body tries to protect me even when the rest of me doesn’t.
Note: It's been a while so this one is going to be a bit lengthy. The next few diary chapters are probably going to look the same way. So you've been warned.
For Thanksgiving, my partner and I travelled to the the tristate area to be adopted by another family. They've been asking us for a few years to come with their son, one of our closest friends, so we decided what could possibly go wrong.
A lot. A lot went wrong.
If you happen to travel to New Jersey, be prepared for a lot of u-turns. We weren't warned so it took us much longer to find the hotel. Did I say hotel? I meant motel disguised as a hotel. The room was small and had a safety hazard for a jetted tub, which by the way the jets didn't work. We were also in a small town so we lit up the atmosphere in the most uncomfortable ways. #travellingwhileblack
Then the fateful day arrived where I had my first Thanksgiving with a white family. Before you even ask, yes it is a thing amongst people of color. Yes I was worried. I'm not sure if my friend told his family we were coming or they were told to act surprised. Either way, I was greeted with looks of confusion and interest. Somehow the loud personality of the family latched onto me for the rest of the day. Although the food left a lot to be desired and I was only called articulate once, I consider the actual day a success.
The next day would be my reckoning however. My friend wanted us to have some great pizza to reminisce about our college days surviving on Napolini's pizza and Gatorade chews. We walked into the small shop, of course with stares, and ordered 2 slices of BBQ chicken pizza. Looking it over, I knew something was wrong. Maybe it was the shine of the cheese or the slice being thick enough to choke me. Not wanting to disrespect my friend, I ate. Oh how I regret those bites. It reduced me to a pitiful food poisoning having human being. It was not pretty.
I'm not sure why I tend to ignore my body when it screams about a choice not being in my best interest. But without fail, when something is awry my body aches. My stomach will churn. My head will pound. It's just a whole bunch of nope. And still, I push past it thinking I'm freaking myself out, because sometimes I do that. But you know what? I'm grateful for my sensitive body. It tells me my internal compass is fully functional, especially when I'm fucking up.