Trapped By Fear
Paralyzed By Fear
I know we all have mixed feelings about R. Kelly right about now, but I must say all I keep hearing is “Trapped in the Closet” playing in my head. It’s like my theme song, since right now, I feel like I’m totally trapped. Have you ever felt completely lost or paralyzed by fear? Here I am both hands raised. I realized that my mom being my compass was a total understatement. I recently realized that I don’t know how to make a decision on my own. Honestly, I’m not sure I made any decisions in my life without my mom’s approval. Well, okay you got me that first marriage she said was a mistake and what can I say she was right, lol. It’s like I’m scared to make a decision one way or another. Too scared of change but also scared of making the wrong decision. For example, I want to sell my house and move. Sounds simple, huh. Well, right now I live in a city that I never planned to live in long term. However, I have a good job with nice salary and benefits. Sometimes co-workers call it the golden handcuffs cause you enjoy the job but when you don’t you aren’t really going anywhere. Back to the city; I came for college and never left, well I did for a few years but that didn’t work out. I bought this house over 10 years ago and even after a bunch of renovations I just can’t stand it here. I know I sound like a spoiled brat. But am I. Yes, I totally get I’m blessed to have been able to purchase a home on my own in a better part of the city. However, I feel like this house represents my past of what I initially desired so long ago. My needs and wants have changed. I have changed. I’ve outgrown this house. Don’t get me wrong it’s not small, it’s just not my style or the me of 2022. I feel like I’ve placed myself in this little box and said you only deserve this much. I continue to struggle with not believing I deserve the things in life I really desire. Part of this is fear, but much of it is being told by others, including my husband that what we have isn’t bad cause we have more than others. Throughout the time lived in this city my mom would repeatedly say, “I didn’t raise you to live like this”. I would constant think I know but this is what I can afford. So, what’s the problem? I’m now lying to myself. I can afford to live in a place of peace with little to no gun violence, where I feel safe. A place where my mind doesn’t worry as much for my black sons safety, m black husbands safety, my black brothers safety, MY OWN SAFETY.
Is This Normal?
My husband grew up here so he just keeps repeating it’s normal, show me a place that doesn’t have violence. Hmm, is this normal though? Is it normal for trash to line the streets because people litter endlessly? Is it normal for kids not to be able to play outside for fear of stray bullets? Is it normal for young black boys to be surprised they lived past 8-9th grades so they never planned for a future after that? Is it normal for prices to be higher on soda and juice? Is it normal for a corner store to have elevated prices, dirty floors and treat their customers with disrespect? Is it normal that many pay more for their luxury cars then they do for their rent or mortgage? None of this is normal to me, but it is to him.
Not My Normal
Yes, this may be normal. What he doesn’t get is this is Not My Normal! Since, I didn’t grow up like this I will never see it as normal. I grew up in white suburbia where there was diversity and tree lined streets, parks everywhere, litter no where and most of the people were friendly and smiled. This city makes me angry and sad. It makes me sad for my people. I feel bad for wanting out, but I can no longer pretend that living here pretending it suits me when it does not. If I continue to be trapped in this box I can’t imagine anything more than what I have now. I feel like staying is closing me off from real growth and development. I feel like he wants me to be satisfied with mediocrity. I keep explaining I struggled long and hard through college and multiple Masters and have the loans to show for it.
How to Get Out of the Box
Why must I still live in a neighborhood I moved in right after I got one of my first jobs. I’m not driving the same car. Don’t I deserve more? Actually, does that even matter if I can pay for more why not make it happen. We have different values and sometimes it makes for interesting conversation and friend gatherings. However, sometimes it leads to long disagreements where I continue to feel trapped in a box. He is limiting what we can become and achieve. I am limiting us by believing what he and others say. I wonder sometimes if my mom were alive would she push me into the direction of higher achievement and the bourgeoise living I desire. I definitely know she would tell me to move where gun shots don’t spray once in awhile let alone daily. This article is me screaming, “How do I get out of this box that I’ve put myself in”? Funny enough, my brother responded, “Just open the door!”
Monique Hayes, M.Ed, Advanced Grief Recovery Specialist
