Painting The World Beautiful

A Heart At Peace

9:09 AM

Choose Wisely: Your Future Could Depend on it

7:54 PM

I am a huge believer that the people you choose to surround yourself with can make an incredible impact on the person you become.

I understand there are situations in life you can’t control this factor, which is why it's so important to choose wisely when you can.

Negativity is a disease that is not only contagious, but hard to fight once you slip into the routine of seeing the glass half empty.

Not only is it a disease but spending time with someone who doesn’t see the worth of your soul or believe in the beauty of your dreams is a relationship or friendship that your life can do without.

Too many people sit silent and subdued around those they are too afraid to share the secrets of their hearts with for fear of not being accepted-- and then they let go of those dreams altogether.

We have the ability to stop this I just think sometimes we need the right person to tell us it’s okay to move on without certain people in our lives.

It is easy to tell the difference between those that encourage and motivate us from the those that make us question who we are as a person.

If you are wondering if you should burn a bridge with someone consider how you feel when you think about the impact they have made on your life.

Life is too short to dwell on toxic relationships that make us question who we are or hold us back from where we want to go.

Taking a step back and questioning your investment in a person isn’t selfish- it’s actually an act of self-love and it’s important for everyone to reevaluate how the people in our lives are impacting who we are.

This is how we as humans continue to grow and evolve into who we want to be.

There are a lot of things in this world we do not have the ability to change; However, we do have the capability of taking back the control we have given to someone who makes us question or doubt ourselves.

If you want to build a life you can look back on in ten years and think ‘Yes, I did everything I could to ensure I got where I wanted to be”, sometimes this starts with shrinking your circle and investing in people that want to invest in you.

-xoxo, E

Embrace Your Season

1:12 PM

This month I have realized the beauty that can be found in every phase of our lives.

Seasons, regardless of if they feel stationery, transform our mind body and soul, and prepare our hearts for what's to come.

I not only appreciate what each time in my life has taught me, but I also recognize that there is more to it than my own story- and that is the story of those around me.

Our human experience is closely connected and I watched this in action through the last two months when I was guided and encouraged by others who shared their own wisdom of seasons.

This time in my life has been molded by those that offered encouragement, advice, and love while I chose to discover my life and what it meant beyond the screen of superficial elements.

What I Found through the Silence:

Everyone struggles with a unique yet universal pain. The pain of feeling like we're inadequate, the pain of feeling lost, the pain of feeling alone.

We have all at one point in life's journey experienced one or all of these emotions and we find different ways of coping with this, and for example I discovered my ability to numb that pain with other distractions.

I found ways to block out the hurt by engaging fully in something all-consuming such as friends, social media etc. It wasn't easy but I began to train my mind to acknowledge my hurt and where it was coming from.

Sometimes that meant sitting in silence but then I learned silence can be a method of speaking to your own soul just when you need it most.

Healing our Hearts:

It's not enough to recognize why we're hurting, we have to go the point of making changes to ensure we're doing everything we can to release the grip of control it has on our lives.

It was hard for me- but one of the things I had to admit was that I was only worried about what everyone else thought of me- did I appear happy? Am I funny enough? Are my clothes in style?

The world throws out so much doubt and insecurity, but the moment I realized I had the ability to choose to not measure my worth by it, I felt my life changed instantly.

Remember, healing that begins in our heart can only expand to everything else in our lives.

What's to come:

When you take on a different perspective of life, as I have over the last several months, it's easy to fear failure.

Instead- I accept it.

I have placed a realistic face on my demons and now they don't look so scary anymore.

I have released the pressure of performing a certain way for the world, and now I can begin loving myself flaws and all. This gives me more incentive to serve and help others who feel trapped the same way I did.

It reminds me that embracing our season, learning from others, and healing our hearts through change can be a ripple effect that could transform the world.

-xoxo, E

The Loss Of A Parent

11:43 AM

If I’ve learned anything in the past few years it would be to tell people you love them more often. Pick up the phone and say “hi.” Tomorrow is never promised.

It's been 3808 days or 10 years, 5 months and 3 days since I've heard his hearty laugh or heard the words "i love you" from my father.

Growing up, not only was I blessed to have been raised by a wonderful mother, but I was also raised by an extraordinary father. Don't get me wrong, I have a lot of similarities to my mother and she's an amazing person but I’d like to believe that I’m the spitting image of my father, or at least that’s who I strive to be. Everything from my stubbornness, sense of humor, seeing the good in everyone, and amazing cooking skills— that has my daddy written all over it.

For as long as I can remember my dad was always there. Every basketball game, every recital, he was there. From going on walks in the park to playing soccer with me, he was always there. He was my best friend. I definitely was a daddy's girl.

It’s been 10 years since I’ve witnessed him being there. It's crazy how someone's there one minute and then they're gone in a blink of an eye and all you have left are memories. I remember his final moments, like it was yesterday. So unexpected and gone before I could say a word.

If I had known the last time would be the last time I’d ever see my dad, my role-model, my best-friend, I would have hugged him a lot tighter, and I would have told him just how much I loved him, a million and one times over.

I cried for months and months, and I would get so upset when I heard someone say “I’m so sorry for your loss” or “how are you doing?”… I just wanted to scream. I became a hermit. I did the worst thing you can do when you lose a loved one, I closed off everyone who loved me, even God.

I knew he wouldn’t want me sulking in my bedroom with old photos, if I could hear him from Heaven, I’m sure he’d be calling me an all types of names for acting the way I was. So finally, after a couple of months I finally was forced me out of my shell when I realized that I wasn't the only person who has ever lost a parent.

People always say God’s timing is perfect. I always believed it to be true, but I never had any personal experiences to tie it to. Sometimes when your heart is broken it’s hard to understand the reasoning for God’s will, but you have to trust in his timing, for it is perfect, and He has a purpose, although you may not see it now. I often had questioned "Why did this happen to me?" The only answer I could come up with is God gives his toughest battles to his strongest soldiers.

Not a day goes by that I am not reminded of him whether it's seeing caramel apple pops or remembering advice he has given me. I feel truly blessed to have spent so much time in the company of my dad. I could go on for days about how big of a heart he had and yet I’m still short for words. He has been such an inspiration to me and I can only hope that I do him proud. He was a great example and loved unconditionally with all of his being and genuinely had a heart of gold. Heaven has been blessed with the sweetest of all angels.

-xoxo, E

Don't let social media fool you.

5:04 PM

These days, appearances are everything.

People are more concerned with proving to the rest of the world that they’re having the time of their lives than actually enjoying themselves. We are all guilty of it.

The 27 flawless “night out” pictures are more important than the night itself. If a girl purchases a new dress, it’s more likely for a new Facebook profile photo than an actual event.

Not to mention, going out without uploading a new Snapchat story or Instagram picture is inconceivable; without evidence of your escapades, as far as the world is concerned, they didn’t happen.

If you go to a bar, half the people in there will likely be on their phones. If they’re not taking selfies, they’re possibly on Tinder, happily meeting strangers through the Internet while scowling at the real-life ones around them who don’t even think about approaching for a real-life conversation.

As for who you’re actually talking to online, everyone on the Internet is selling you a dream. The thought of uploading a photo that is anything less than perfect is unimaginable, so every picture is taken with precision, the best lighting, best angle and most appealing filter.

Regarding first dates, well, thank God for restaurants with dim lighting. Plus, all that really matters is the hot profile picture he’ll show his friends of the girl he went on a date with, not so much what she actually looked like.

It’s not because his standards are low, but because when you remove the screen, you realize that little imperfections aren’t the end of the world; in fact, they are what make all of us human.

Then, of course, there are the people who have already found someone to love them. These are the ones who are in relationships, offline. For many of these couples, being in love is not enough and a relationship isn’t considered truly successful until it’s on Facebook.

If someone buys you flowers, in exchange, you have to take a picture and upload it. After all, what is the point of being happy if not everyone knows about it?

Singles begin to resent their newsfeeds because they just serve as reminders of an inability to find a partner, let alone someone who buys them flowers and takes them to Paris for the weekend.

Somehow, when faced with endless photos captioned “bae” and littered with love hearts, it’s easy to forget that people only post their best moments and choose to keep all their worst ones private. Your life may fall short of someone’s picture perfect one, but more often than not, so does the life of whomever posted it.

Logic aside, it seems that the success of any relationship is measured by how many pictures you each post with your significant other, and those who never post pictures are assumed to be in miserable relationships, leading unfulfilled lives.

And, it’s not just dating that’s the issue.

Sometimes I wonder if people arrange to meet up with their friends because they miss them or because they haven’t updated their Snapchat stories in six hours and need some new material to prove to the world they’re having a good time.

The fact of the matter is, brag culture has resulted in us being too busy narrating our lives online that we’re forgetting to live them. Trust me, no great story ever started with “Hey, remember that time we took 37 photos in your car…?”

Life is now a popularity contest, and it seems that the popularity is less dependent on how many good friends you have and is more a reflection of how many followers or likes you possess.

Girls upload Instagram pictures and then delete them the next day if they did not receive a sufficient number of “likes” because that alone is considered a reflection of how many people like them in real life.

Don’t let social media fool you. There are people who have hardly any likes on their Instagram pictures, but still have lots of friends, and others with hundreds of likes despite being the loneliest people of all.

There are couples who seldom upload pictures or share online declarations of their love, who are happier than the ones who share every “date night” in your Instagram feed.

There are people who don’t brag, who are halfway to a deposit on their first house and others who are pictured in VIP every Saturday night who don’t have a penny to their names.

So, don’t believe everything you see online because appearances are just that.

-xoxo, E

I Am Second.

12:48 PM

“Is he okay?” Followed with a head shaking "no".

It was then that my world froze. No child should ever have to be asked if they want to go see their parent's remains. No child should ever have to shatter and fall broken to the ground. The sound that I found resonating from the deepest depths of my being was not a cry or a scream. It was a sound of utter anguish. It poured from me with such ferocity, I could feel the heat rise from my soul. I felt a numbness overwhelm my body and expand in the crevices of my being. In that instant, our perfect family was shattered. Our perfect lives were destroyed. Normal was an illusion.

It was July 14, 2005, that my daddy left this Earth.

What you have to understand about my dad is: he is my biggest fan, he is my hero, my confidant, my jury, my judge, everything. He was my heart and he was my best friend. He was a family man. There was nothing he loved more than his family.

It was July 14, 2005 that I began to run as far from God as I possibly could…

I lost myself in ’05. I lost my sense of discernment. I lost my purpose. I became two different people, co-existing in a turbulent state. My soul became ground-zero for a spiritual warfare so extreme, it left me exhausted and worn. My body completely shut down from shock. I had to be hospitalized because I wouldn't eat, sleep or drink.

It’s difficult to recall specifics from that summer. Not simply due to the lapse in time since, but because of the overwhelming numbness that consumed me. I was on auto-pilot. Unable to process through so many emotions as quickly as society demanded. I was helpless. Confused. Torn.

"This is what I get?" "What did I do to deserve this?" I became so angry with God. "I don't want anything to do with you God". "You weren't there for me when my family needed you. I fell into depression. Deep, deep depression. I started feeling feelings I had never felt before. Feelings of resentment, anger, and hatred. I became a completely different person and lived a double life.

It’s important for me to share something at this moment. Important for me to break from my story for a minute and humble myself to you. So please read these words with care and with sincerity. Please know that what I say, I truly mean from the deepest caverns of my heart…

To those I affected along my dark journey, I am deeply and truly sorry. For those I confused, for those I mistreated, for those I lied to, for those hearts I hurt, for those I neglected…I am so sorry. I offer up myself, offer up my pride. Whether you felt the repercussions then or have felt them in any way since, I can’t apologize deeply enough. I’m sorry I was a false witness and I can only pray, that from this day on, you see what God is doing through me. And you know that what you saw then was not real and was not pure. What you saw then was not God.

A few things that later on happened gradually reignited a fire in my soul. A fire that soon gave me the strength to take a stand. Take a stand against the waging forces that were tearing me apart. Take a stand against the dark feelings that were pulling at my strings like a puppet-master. Take a stand against Satan…

No wound heals quickly. No gash is mended by freshly born skin as swiftly as we all would like. Every scrape, cut, and burn scabs. And many times, we find ourselves frustrated when, in our anxious movement after the pain has subsided, we tear those scabs wide open again. In our haste, we are again exposed to the slicing pain we first felt. But given time, and care and patience, those wounds scab again and eventually scar. Allowing us to be sewn like new, but always leaving behind a mark of our misfortune. A reminder of the pain we endured. A reminder of the lessons we learned.

Taking a stand against the spiritual warfare that was ripping me apart, I found myself scabbed. I was tender and uncomfortable and often very vulnerable, but I was beginning to heal. As I was slowly gaining strength, Satan was quickly gaining fury. As I began to deny him, he began to grow angry. I was not walking, yet, arm-in-arm again with my King, but I was trying to crawl from my captor. Trying to steal away in the night when Satan wouldn’t notice or see me leave. But he is keen, he is sharp–he is resentful. And he did notice. He was going to try anything to keep me captive. Anything to handicap my progress. Anything to keep me in his sinful snare.

I find it funny, at times, to sit back and look at the works of our God. To sit back and watch, how desperately, Satan tries to wage an un-winnable war. To sit back and watch the grace that God shows to those who seek Him. It’s amusing, truly. Amusing to watch the futile attempts the Devil makes. Painful, but amusing.

Everything we seek on this Earth to fill any part of us is so temporary. Unless it's the love of God. I didn't know that at that time. I couldn't feel it at that time. It hurt too bad to feel.It was so difficult to learn that lesson. I had to fail time and time again. Through all these failures and all this pain, guess who was knocking the whole time on my heart saying "please let me in. just please let me back in".

God is beautiful. The best encouragement I received through all of that was that I was going to hit bumps in the road. I was going to face adversity. But We have to rejoice in our adversity. Because adversity produces perseverance. Perseverance produces character. And character produces hope. And hope in God never fails us. IT NEVER FAILS US. I am a living testament to the fact that I have been at the highest of highs and I have been at the lowest of absolute lows. And through this whole journey of life that is a roller coaster, there's one constant, one: God. His love, grace and mercy never fail.

-xoxo, E

My sincere hope.

10:46 AM

I like white guys. Here is the thing: it is not because I actively seek out all the white men in the world and I actively reject other races. When I date someone, or kiss them, or become involved with them, or even just like them, it’s because I see them and go, “He’s cute. I want to know him.” Then I get to know him and I think, “I like this guy.” I read the signals he returns to me and either decide he’s into me or he’s not. And in my life, it has happened that more of the guys I share a mutual attraction for and that seem to be a kind person have been white.

Maybe I do have a type. But doesn’t everyone? Look at the people you’ve dated or been involved with in the past. Are there more tall people than short? More in shape people than overweight? More people with dark hair or eyes than light? What were their occupations? Their ages? Where were they from? What did they like to do? Even just look at the celebrities you think are hot and ask these questions. I bet you that you can find some kind of pattern somewhere. You have a type. You vary from it sometimes probably, but there are certain things that you like more than others.

I am no different. I like a guy to be tall, but at least just taller than me. If you're taller than me, you're already winning. I like a guy that is into fitness. I like guys who are into sports. Most of the guys I’ve liked are older than me. I like guys who are friendly, but not the type that has to be the center of attention. I like a guy that has style. Most have been fun people. Not necessarily funny, but the kind of person that when you’re around them, you end up having a good time.

Those are just some of the things I’ve noticed in the guys I choose. Maybe some psychologist out there has a theory about why I like what I like, but they probably have some theories for you, too (“Oh, you like a guy in charge? You must want to be dominated in your relationship”…you get the point).

The bottom line is that the most common pattern in the guys I like is that they are white. 1) No, I'm not a traitor. This sentiment is usually expressed by lunatics babbling about the upcoming race war. This feels like something you might tell a pre-schooler but when someone is black, they're black. They were born black, they will die black, it's a gene, it's a skin tone, not a commodity that can be measured and weighed and if you listen to country music you lose blackness and you have to quickly put in the T.I. CD to get some of it back. Marrying a black guy doesn't make you any more black than if you married a white guy. It's not a one size fits all mold where being black automatically and oppressively means you have to marry black people that seems more suffocating than a true racial identity. It's a physical trait, not a personality type, and you can't be more or less or a "traitor" by whom you choose to socialize with or marry. Plus, thinking of it in terms of “traitor” implies a war, implies two sides that should be kept separate and at each other’s throats instead of humans in the same boat, and I thought most people were tired of that mentality. 2) I am me. I like what I like. My skin tone doesn't define me. And if you know me, you know that I'm a product of an interracial marriage (Egyptian and African American).

There have been moments that I've looked at pictures of me and a white guy and I look at our skin next to each other. More than once, I’ve thought to myself, “This is beautiful.” Growing up, I always liked those ice cream cones you could get that were chocolate and vanilla. I’m not trying to make a joke here, but honestly, I thought the brown and white looked pretty together (and I liked both flavors equally and could never choose). I didn’t think white cones were pretty or tasted good; it was too vanilla. I didn’t like the chocolate cones by itself because it just looked like someone crapped in my ice cream cone and the flavor was too much chocolate. When you mixed the two together, I was happy. It was visually pleasing and I liked the balance of flavors. This is not to say that a vanilla cone or a chocolate cone can’t be good or beautiful to someone else. They are. Still, sometimes, I will get just one or the other. My own personal taste though prefers the mix. That’s what I’ve thought about when I’m looking at our contrasting skin. I like this. It’s beautiful to me. I do not know why. Just like everyone has their favorite ice cream flavor or their “type” they look for in a partner, so do I. I am attracted to lighter skin. You wouldn’t judge me for liking the vanilla/chocolate twist ice cream cones, would you? So why judge me for the skin color I’m attracted to?

I strongly encourage anyone who still thinks “race” is a real thing to look up an article called “How our skins got their color” by Marvin Harris. Here is the linkhttp://homepage.smc.edu/delpiccolo_guido/Soc34/Soc34readings/HOW%20OUR%20SKINS%20GOT%20THEIR%20COLOR.pdf

He explains it better than I could, but the basics boil down to how much melanin our bodies produce. People nearer to the equator and therefore exposed to more solar radiation produced more melanin (because of natural selection and the fascinating ways our bodies know what we need and when) because it protected them from severe burns, which we all know can be damaging and even lead to skin cancer. The further people migrated away from the equator, the less solar radiation they were exposed to. As opposed to the bad effects of too much sunlight, there are also bad effects of not getting enough. When people got further away, usually in colder temperatures where they had to keep their skin covered up for warmth, they needed to soak up whatever sun they could to get the good benefits. So their bodies produced less melanin so that they could absorb more Vitamin D from the sun. More melanin makes your skin darker and less makes it lighter. Diet also effects how much melanin you produce, which is why people in some non-equatorial places still kept some of their darker color…their diets were helping them to keep producing it, mostly in places near water (think Alaska). Then as time has passed, we pass our skin color down to our children just like we pass hair or eye color. And now, we are so free to move around the world that there are various skin colors all over, integrated into the same towns. Basically, your skin color is a result of where you or your ancestors just happened to be born. I was born in Springfield, IL…do you think I choose that or even liked it? No. And I didn’t choose my parents either. I didn’t choose my skin color just like I didn’t choose to be born with brown eyes and goldilocks hair (if you didn't know, you know now what my natural hair color is). We don’t say that our friend with brown hair is less of a human being than us over here with blonde hair, so why do we do that with skin color?

I’d also like to point out that everyone against interracial relationships seems to only focus on white and black. They seem to forget that they have probably either participated in one or came from one. I would almost say that the Colombians and Germans and Italians and Austrians are more interracial than an African American, because those people actually moved here, away from their families, FROM their countries, where they grew up speaking another language on another continent. African Americans were born IN THE UNITED STATES. They are Americans in the same way that I am technically Egyptian, African American and Cherokee but I call myself American because I was born in America.

Which leads me to the fact that most of us come from interracial relationships. Look down your family line. You're probably French, English, German etc. I am a bi-racial child conceived from an interracial relationship among people who are made up of probably ten different races not just two. I am not black. I'm not the color of the black suit you see in the store. We are all brown, of some shade or another. Most of us come from more than one racial background somewhere down the line. All of us come from the first two humans to ever exist on Earth, whether you believe it was Adam and Eve or not. Science and religion both support the idea that the human race started in either what is now Africa or the Middle East (Jesus wasn’t a white boy speaking English…in case you didn’t figure that out yet). In the beginning, we probably all had darker skin, probably what we now consider black. It was later on that we migrated into Europe and Russia. That Native Americans were able to come into what we now call Canada and the United States. That over generations, skin started changing because we needed to either protect ourselves from the sun or expose ourselves to as much of it as we could.

In today’s society, we may have cultural differences between our “races”, but we come from the same place. We are one race: the human race. And we are no different on the inside. Maybe white girls do drink more Starbucks (I don’t even know) but if so, that is a cultural development, because Starbucks happens to be in the United States on every street corner and someone somewhere (my guess is the media) made it pop culture and “cool” to drink coffee and tea all the time and the susceptible white girls fell for it. Maybe more black men are arrested, but that is a cultural development. It probably comes from the fact that black people are profiled for crime because of our stupid, racist ancestors or that black people tend to be in a lower socioeconomic class in this country and are prone more to crime. I don’t know. I’m not an anthropologist or sociologist or a crime expert. Talk to the ones who are.

None of these stereotypes come from the actual biology of our skin. And not everyone fits a stereotype. I know I don't fit most stereotypes that people have of my skin color. The next time you judge me for being a black girl with a white guy, think about your “type” and try to see if you can honestly explain why you like what you like. Think about what races have mixed in your family history that led up to your creation. Think about whether the stereotypes associated with people are actually biological or cultural. Think about how you’d feel if you were judged for being a blonde dating a brunette because at the end of the day, that’s basically what you’re doing to me. Or any other person in an interracial relationship. Think about the concept of race and ask yourself if you are really so stupid to believe that our outward appearance really makes us biologically and fundamentally different than other people. I sincerely hope you aren’t.

-xoxo, E

A Heart At Peace

Choose Wisely: Your Future Could Depend on it

Embrace Your Season

The Loss Of A Parent

Don't let social media fool you.

I Am Second.

My sincere hope.

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