A Happy-Go-Lucky Repressed Girl Launches A Blog
Updated: Jun 10
Shrinking is easy. Attempting to give away every part of your identity to be truly loved is easier
to do than to start over. To try again. To find the gentleness in choosing self-liberation and
showing up in the world as your authentic self. I know it.
Learning how to own every part of me is a daily mantra. It's hard and worth it.
I was born into a prosperous life. With the overflowing support from my loved ones,
I accomplished anything I put my mind to. I traveled around the world and collected more
photographic memories than my ancestors could ever have. I discovered my gifts at an early age. I channeled the bonds and connections of my prehistoric ancestors through performing
arts. My body spoke rhythmic tongue. My innocent smile ignited conversations. My contagious, bubbly energy left permanent impressions. I was a vibrant storyteller that created fictional worlds in orange spiraled notebooks. I flaunted my goofy and sassy voice throughout pages and pages of hard-spined journals. As a child, there were no limits that I could see.
As seasons blew by like the wind, so did I. In my older years, I held my tongue, disrespected my boundaries, and shared love with those who didn’t deserve it.
The reality of being a young black woman, sometimes, felt like I was being swept up by the tornadoes of the world.
As the whirlwind of rejections and injustices destroyed homes, I went wherever the storm took me. As a young woman, I have connected with many welcoming souls, but I was wary. I did not allow anyone close enough, nor did I invite them into my world of ambiguity. Yet, I have accepted many invitations to fill my lonely void.
I have filled shopping carts with fleeting moments and validation. I have walked into horrifying rooms with my head held low. Still, I was eager to keep the peace. I have translated bone-chilling poems into spoken word for anticipating I have ignited my reminiscent smile to keep me high on life. Any attention I received numbed the pins and needles that were crippling my limbs from the inside out. My familiar spirit was the life of the party. It gave me an adequate amount of energy to show up for those who needed it.
"I have been incredibly optimistic for everyone except me."
"A closed mouth don't get fed" was the consequence I didn't think would daunt upon me. My pain was mine. I had squeezed and tightened my grip until I had lost all control. As a result, I
have made poor conscious decisions out of impulsive rage and desperate cries. Yet I yearned
for someone to kiss away my tears and tattoo I forgive you across my heart. Everything will be
okay. You are good, still.
The charade became exhausting. Relationships were failing, but I still ached to show love and
to be loved. I hadn't seen the inside of my orange spiraled notebook in years as it collected dust at the bottom of my bookshelf. My pink, hard-spined journal with "heart + mind open wide" written across it was untouched. I did not find ease in my relationship with myself. I had lost all motivation to release the urge to force things that didn't
"As a 26 year-old-woman, I am still changing, even with the occasional urge to control how I want to show up in the world."
Smiling my way through rainy days and thunderous nights, I am grateful for the beautiful catastrophe that I had become. I am on a crusade to face the predestined storms and explore my evolution even further. I will find joy shedding in every
season. I will truly love myself.
I revisited the orange spiraled notebook and all my other journals. As the untamed magic arose to the surface, in an instant, I was reminded that I had always been the stars, the moon, and the whole damn universe. I am. I am a happy-go-lucky repressed girl who is boldly and unapologetically reclaiming the old versions of myself. I forgive myself for shrinking to be more accepted. I had to acknowledge the self-loathing nights and the bursts of energy that I forced to keep me afloat. Now, I am dancing in the rain. I am creating a space for my healing through my gift of writing. I have stories to tell.
When I help others, I help myself. When I inspire others, I inspire myself. When I resonate with
others, I get closer to myself. These affirmations fuel me daily.I launched my blog, Truly Jem, on 11\11\2020. The voice that I had pushed so far into my stomach is now inspiring more people than I ever thought it would. Truly Jem is destined to be the truth that is honest and faithful to the woman that I am today.
The light at the end of that pretentious, happy-go-lucky tunnel has always been me. I needed to return to myself. This happy-go-lucky repressed girl transformed her paralyzing self-control into liberating self-expression. A challenge that strained personal relationships and my mental health is now a journey towards healing repressed vulnerabilities.
It is one of the most rewarding to transcend your pain and fears into brave authenticity.
If I could do it, so can you.
ATIYA JEMILA JORDAN
Atiya Jemila Jordan, aka Jem, is a natural-born creative and storyteller, trusting herself to inspire others through her writing. She brings a vulnerable, authentic, and optimistic voice to the blogging scene and has recently launched her personal blog, Truly Jem. Her stories strive to spark conversations in mental health and self-improvement and to ignite both herself and others onto a path to resilience. Passionate about writing and creating, Jem has professional experience in the publishing and marketing industries, specializing in social media management and content writing. Her love for supporting black businesses is fueling her daily aspiration to
own a copywriting business.
Blog - www.trulyjem.com.