Toxic Humility (2021)

Opening Quotes:

“‘Me too’ implies ‘you too’ and that’s why I’m sharing this.” ~kgn

“This is a marathon and I'm aware / I been playing it back from a lack of promotions / I was never one for the bragging and boasting / I guess I was hoping the music would speak / For itself, but the people want everything else / Ok, no problem, I'll show up on everyone album / You know what the outcome will be” ~J. Cole (“A Lot” feat.)

_______________TW: assault mention (“r-word”)___________________

#WhatAssaultStoleFromMe - So, in 2019 I had a TV show and due to an assault that occurred between myself and someone on my production team, that dream (seemingly) died. I usually take things “on the chin” but truthfully, something I couldn’t quite acknowledge broke me. On a recent trip to Cali, I took shrooms with a medicinal intention, realizing some deeeeep shit. I obviously know I have depression but being on my recovery journey for the last few years, I had not realized just how depressed I still was/am. It despairs me to think I’d have these issues “forever” so I try my best to “acknowledge and ignore” if you will to get through my day. It’s “worked” I guess but I recognized artistically/professionally just how much that has played against me. As I write this, I have a flashback playing in my mind of how my assailant used to tell me to not to be so vocal about my mental illness stuff. I listened, to an extent, because I thought he had my well-being at heart. Truthfully, he was just afraid to confront his own demons. Nevertheless, I find I’ve been subconsciously punishing myself all this time. Why? For thinking I should have “known better” or even hoping that the strength of my character, valiant work effort, and dynamic art skills would speak for themselves - that I didn’t have to “do” anymore or rather could share less. Instead I refocused on what I thought healing resembled: doubling down on holistic efforts, finding better mental health management, fighting all the harm urges (even publicly vocalizing them). It wasn’t until NOW that I realized that’s HALF the work. Before my TV show, I took pride in my social media posts. It was still annoying lol, but I did it for me and the pride of my own greatness. It’s as if the assault amplified my feelings of low inadequacy to a point where I felt like y’all didn’t care about seeing my stuff and it didn’t matter. “I” didn’t matter. Yet, something else comes to mind with that - my assailant saying, “I rather lose you as a friend than a business partner,” which hurt like hell but really underscores how lit I am, lmao. I think that’s what it was too - subconsciously, perhaps I was also trying to hurt him (and the world) by keeping all this “littitude” to myself. Recently, I performed a new body of work for a fundraiser and the feeling from that performance hasn’t left me. It felt like duty and I mean that in the most loving way. I ended my set on Cloud-9 and wondered how I’ve had such gaps in my solo career over the last few months. The greatest sensation I’ve ever had/felt is from knowing my work could inspire, empower, and/or help others. I nearly cried when spittin’ the other day - which is a rarity. I was overwhelmed with the amalgam of my own history/emotions, knowing that someone out there could/would be listening with the potential to feel helped or “saved” by my art; just like I have been by the arts, and just like people have privately, graciously admitted to me from witnessing my own. I hate being a braggart but really I just fell prey to “toxic humility” - undervaluing myself SO deeply that I hid altogether.

2018-19 even though I was still dealing with cutting-based self-harm, I felt like #theshit professionally! I was taking chances (y’all recall my mini freestyle series?!), posting more consistently, and overall just feeling freer as a creative (dare I say, human). Losing my show embarrassed me. Though that’s showbiz and pilots sometimes don't even happen, it was a major hit to Spirit and Ego for me. Then not too soon after that I joined college for the first time therefore it was easy to say, “I’m going to refocus on craft honing, come back better later.” Though not untrue, I find a level of “excuse” there. I’m being mindful to not be hard on myself but there’s a slight bitterness. My choice to go to college still stands to be one of the best I ever made for myself - it heightened my prowess as a musician and opened other doors. Yet, in hindsight, even though I subverted expectations by becoming a Music major (a proud choice still), I find I still fell into a place of being the “expectant”. Meaning, “falling in line”, doing “what I’m good at”, being a student. It fulfilled me to an extent. Despite maintaining my A-student standing, winning scholarships, making Dean’s List, even being a Club Prez and getting PAID by CUNY due to being that “fuego”, there was an emptiness I didn’t fully admit to. It was easy to write it off as, “Girl, you always depressed. You diagnosed, remember?!” but truthfully it was deeper than that. I did the best in my arts-based classes like Music & Scriptwriting; I felt creatively blocked outside of that. Anything else was a major chore, so much so that I had started to break down. I ultimately withdrew from the majority of my classes last semester, making it out by teeth-skin with an A in my only “kept” class - Music Production. Then despite not wishing to, with affirmation from my psychiatrist I took this Fall semester (2021) off. I decided I’d return Spring 2022 but honestly, now I don’t know. My mom believes I should take this whole academic year, returning Fall 2022 if need be. I just want to graduate (at least enjoy some more perks) but frankly, I am at a crossroads discerning the sign directions.

The truth is I don’t need school, at least not in the traditional sense. My resume and expertise truly speak for themselves. Everybody, even/especially pros, need consistent practice and training, but as someone on SSI (something I’m transparent about), going to school was the easiest way to acquire those. Think of someone in school on a sports scholarship so they can get training for major leagues - same premise. I’ve wanted to be a graduate (ideally Ivy League) my entire life only to realize that too has been TOO wrapped in my self-worth. Beyond this, I’m recognizing just how surface-level I have been - not just the last three or so years but my whole life. “It’s not that bad. :) “ *cuts self because hurting deeply* “I’ll be okay. :) “ *tries to kill myself to make it “okay”* LOL - I laugh with a wry empathy because I unintentionally toxic positivity’ed my whole life. Despite being Black I acknowledge I had privileges such as living in a house or having married parents. I also acknowledged those things weren’t perfect as I witnessed and unfortunately fell prey to my parents’ domestic violences. I had scars they made which I smiled away before creating my own…so I now reflect here at a dusky 6AM how that ideology subconsciously found its way to me and never actually left… 2019 I grit and bared my rape trauma, “chalked it up to the game”, even decided punching my assailant in the face (rumoredly chipping his admittedly stellar smile) was enough payback on its own. I was still “elevating” right? I was a college student now! Beginning of 2020 I moved out “on my own” with a roommate; oh, yes, we are lit out here! Right? Sure, but that was only half the story. Despite these accomplishments and the victory of cutting cessation (which frankly, came from intuitive guidance and not even my own “desire”), I still felt a “missing” element. There was an episode of “Tuca & Bertie”, the one about Bertie being hurt at Jelly Lakes as a kid, that busted me wide open my Freshman year. I remember I had been very “laggy” during that period with no clarity as to why. That ep. did for me what the “Switched at Birth” episode about Bay’s ordeal with Tank had done for me years ago regarding a different assault incident; it clarified just how deeply my pain went. In that time, that was enough. It always had been, I thought. Alas, it wasn’t.

The late Suzzanne Douglas, aka Professor Douglas, acted as a mentor for me. I’m sure I wasn’t the sole one but her and I would have 2-3hr long private conversations about life. Frankly, she would irritate me LOL but in a loving, chiding way, like a close aunt could. She would tell me, “Do the work,” and I would frustratedly reply, “but I’m depressed, Prof.! You don’t get it, I would if I could and I’ve been trying with no success,” yet her Aries self would persist. She believed in me fiercely and I wonder how when she didn’t even have the opportunity to see the best I could offer. Now she “never will” but I am immensely gratified that God ushered her into my life as He had. I can nearly feel a faint smile from [the] Beyond, like, “Yes, Ny! You finally get it!” I hope I do. We would discuss how we had to “do the work” as people through exhaustion, illness, and toll for generations - I really am no different. The thing is, “the work” I thought she meant is not the work I figured. We did speak on basics like eating right and meditating but I think what she really was driving at is the radical verve of valuing yourself. Considering how she passed and what she had going on for herself despite that, this understanding resonates. One of those, “I wish you had just said THAT,” moments for me, but I digress, maybe she did. Point being, when I took my shroom trip, I had a reflection over the ancestors, “which one I’d be” so-to-speak. I used to devoutly believe I’d be a “jump-shipper”. Then, I attuned more to the idea of a “radical enjoyer”, finding time to sneak away at night, cakewalking in hidden cabins. I started to believe myself as a “status quo on rebel flow” type. That’s what I thought. Then I realized, in a California Uber, that I hated both of those realities. I thought it awesome they could find their joy in secret but honestly, I was unsettled. I don’t want joy to be a secret - that’s not freedom to me. Making a way of no way for sanity-sake is one thing, but conflating it to being the “best” is not only invalidating but dangerous in its own right. Then it occurred to me: I’m a runner, and again, I mean that in the best way possible.

Sure, when orchestrated in a more toxic mindset, I may run away from myself but when done with positive/holistic intention, it is indeed what has been saving me. 2020 I had other issues to untangle such as housing instability, toxic relationship dynamics, and simply trying to continue being what I imagined as my “best” (a great student with gigs on the side). 2021, once I was more stable and alone, the onslaught of my PTSD viciously ensued. I felt so suicidal in February and knew I was about to break a spiritual covenant so God intervened and I miraculously found an Ayahuasca retreat in Mexico. Mission: absorb Mama Aya’s lessons and HEAL once and for all, specifically from flashbacks of the rape and my assailant. I recall the shamans, an amazing group of Columbians who had been doing this work for decades, told us that Mama Aya’s teachings would come over time, not all at once. I looked forward to that, hoping I would recognize the lessons as they fell upon me (I count this reflection as one <3). My Aya & Mexico journey is its own tale to recount but the premise being, just the action of trusting myself and my Intuition *that* intensely brought me a healing I couldn’t even fathom! Not only was it my first solo trip out of the country, it was also, I’d say, my most honest attempt at healing - at finding freedom. I felt the need for escape like it was being called on by the Beyond itself and assuredly, that hunch was on the money. Similarly, like the ancestors, nary a person knew besides those “needing to”. Somehow someone did discover this and wound up “putting a hex on me” so-to-speak but that too is its OWN story, LOL! The fact remaining is I know in my heart I would have tried to kill myself again if I had not gone. Depression is and has been my “master” for so long but I can’t run away from or “leave” my body. How do you vanquish a bully within you? That’s what I am still learning. I acknowledge that even more now.

It was prayer that the experience would stay strongly enough so I wouldn’t feel as suicidal or broken anymore and for awhile it had! However, “Life be Life’in’” so it didn’t last. Months later, strong suicidal urges resumed, flashbacks persisted, and truly I started to really recognize, “Yo, I can’t and won’t be able to live if I have to keep feeling like this the rest of my life.” I knew I couldn’t “run away to Mexico” every time I was hurting yet I still couldn’t access help with a comparable feeling. Meanwhile, I am trying to create art but if it goes well, I’m not posting it or only posting in a 24hr Story; if it went “badly” or not as planned I’d shrug it off as inconsequential (the girl who used to keep every scrap organized understanding a failed attempt could be a success later on…). When I felt the urge to self-harm in a way stronger than I had in years, I utilized the urge to give myself piercings that I’d been wanting for a while. Perhaps not the wisest move, lol, I felt invigorated and like I was once again taking my fate into my own hands. That too had me on a high for weeks until I had an unfortunate incident that led to one of them rejecting. This too became a theme - I would “try” then a Tower moment would ensue. For anyone unaware, the Tower refers to a tarot card that implies a breaking down of something in one’s life. Often seen negatively, the beauty in the Tower is that what dies can leave room for a [re]birth of something better! This year has been a Tower year for me but it is now in December that I see the energy of what that really meant/resembled for me (Selah).

So to bring it all back, I’ve been toxically humble, not just for the last few years but my entire life. I know the roots of that: I always tried to empower others but they didn’t feel their power so it made it seem as if I was mocking or lying to them. To not hurt anyone, I dimmed my light - you know, tried to show we’re on level-ground, “equals”. Truly this is how I believed and frankly still do; if you are untapped potential, that doesn’t make you “less than”, it just means you’ve got some stuff to “show out”. I have done this, to a degree, my entire life. I KNOW I’m talented as fuck. I just also “knew” I didn’t have to be so “loud about it” even if it’s coming from a good place. That was nice and all but truly, it was inconsiderate and unkind towards myself and anybody who DID see me and find power/inspiration in my truth and art. I’ve apologized to them, but to myself I owe the biggest one. I have also made this apology before but as I stated with the shrooms (& will one day expound with the Aya), I found a *deeper* understanding of what that all means/meant. Moreover, just as a 25-year old, I see that dimming doesn’t serve me in paying the bills, LOL! As I wrote in a short poem during my Cali trip, entitled “Adulthood”: “Running from your greatness is childish / Show more ‘grown’ than that.” That’s my truth and I’m owning it, not a knock on anyone else whether they feel a way or not (#period). So this is me “owning it”. I was confused because gigs have been dry lately but really, I stopped putting myself out there like I used to. Coming from a childhood of abuse, placating it away with optimism and empathy (apparently to my detriment), I learned to be great only when asked for. Everything else was silent, only hoping to be seen by people I was “sure” would care, like my caregivers. Otherwise, I was having private “Kanye-moments”, loving up on all my litness fake-hoping for the confidence to share it widely one day, you know, “if anyone ever cared”. I recently learned there’s more than “fight-or-flight” in fear responses. Specifically, I fall under the “fawn” type. I did that my whole life. “Maybe if I’m good, mommy and daddy will stop fighting or being mean to me when they’re mad. Maybe if I dim my light, I won’t make my peers feel bad and we can all see we’re the same, growing into greatness together. Maybe if I tell him, ‘Ok, fine, just one last pump then please get off,’ he’ll get from on top of me. Maybe if I reason, don’t scream or yell, keep saying, “Please, stop,” he’ll hear me. Why isn’t he listening? Why doesn’t anyone ever listen to me? I hear me, why can’t anyone else? Why?” My Inner Child is crying and Adult Me is honoring her tears with these words. I feel everything is my fault but instead of making that be the problem, maybe I should just let that sit - then stir it into something better, like this free write / essay thing. I am terrified on a near-daily basis that I still won’t be able to save Me…that I…will Plath or Cobain myself one day. Yet, beyond that fear is dying without the world ever seeing my art, the “best of me”, the parts that make me authentically smile and feel meritable - not because I’m being prolific but because this creativity stems from something deep beyond me. That’s why I separate Nykemah and Kemara - they’re both ME but the way it comes out almost needs its own “character” if you will (this is hell for branding but one issue at a time LOL).

Thus, to honor her, Nykemah, I will do it. I vow to share more truth, brag a little more boldly, and say what tf needs to be said, whether it’s under Spirit-given “kgn” or mama-given “nxw” (sidebar: I love my name and that’s another thing, people have a nasty habit of messing it up - “ion like dat”. I prefer saving “Ny/Nykemah” for people I mutually fuck with. Otherwise, “Empress Kemara” is all y’all get and that’s on Mary with her curry lamb chops. Perhaps one day this too will be something altered but for now, again, a battle at a time LOL c: ). Regardless, I had a legend tell me to “do the work” so how can I not oblige? If there’s one thing I know TOO starkly, it is that no day is promised. Before I go, “y’all gonna know”, and that’s on Kemara Gwendolyn Night. A’se & the most thankful of Amens <3