ashlemonadechronicles

[ashlemonadechronicles]

Chapter 5: Janet Jackson’s ‘The Velvet Rope’ Gave Me Permission To Go Deep & Heal

Janet Jackson had my attention as young as 4 when I’d watch her and Michael dance fiercely in outer space in 1995′s “Scream” video. In the ‘90s, watching music videos was a mini-event my the living room. I’d watch “Runaway” as she’d dance and jump off monuments around the world with a smile and that alone made her magical to me. 

Her freedom made me want to be that free.  

When The Velvet Rope album was released on Oct. 7, 1997, the Janet era that left the greatest imprint on me, I was 6-years-old. I could remember hearing the poetic groove of “Got Til It’s Gone,” mimicking by the Joni Mitchell vocals in the chorus. Though I wasn’t allowed to listen to the album until I was a teenager, her music videos were enough. Her appearance mirrored her edgy vibe with crimson curls, pierced nose and tattoos fascinated me. So much so that I bugged my dad to find the exact poster I saw of her in a hardware shop that hangs in my bedroom today, with her giant nipple ring and infamous Mickey and Minnie tattoo on her bikini line. 

As a little black girl seeing a black woman like Janet Jackson, one of the biggest artists in the 1990s shaping music, embracing her true self was like an epiphany. 

The Velvet Rope, an introspective concept album chronicling her experience after an emotional breakdown she endured after the janet. World Tour was one of Rolling Stone’s “500 Greatest Albums of All Time.” In her most revealing and mature work to date, its legacy is the journey of self-discovery and acceptance that still resonates with listeners 20 years later. It is quite frankly her greatest masterpiece. 

The incredible evolution of Janet shows in each era; declaring her independence in Control (1986), social activism meets music in Rhythm Nation 1814 (1989), and baring her femininity with sexual intimacy and sensuality in janet. (1993). All adding layers to her artistry that continued to be groundbreaking and innovative but The Velvet Rope asked the question, “How do you perceive yourself?”

The brilliance of this era was her approach to using her vulnerability as a testimony for her music to explore subjects of sexuality, love, online dating, homophobia, domestic violence, and the depths of her hurt. Even more incredible now was seeing a black woman addressing her mental health of depression, body dysmorphia and self-harm so openly was even unconventional.

“The Velvet Rope is the need, I feel, that we all have to feel special and this need brings out different sides to us. It brings out the best or the worst of us,” Janet said in a 1998 interview. “Through my life I’ve seen different velvet ropes and ropes put on. It separates us from others, it doesn’t allow us to know ourselves, this rope. Within this album it’s putting down that velvet rope down and allowing the people to get to know who I really am.”

Janet, then 31, unfolding as a woman throughout this album fed me through my teenage years as I struggled with molding my identity on top of being self-conscious about my weight and skin. I was an introverted, sensitive tomboy and when I’d watch her concert on TV or get lost in the music, I looked to her as a sister-friend who’d been where I was. I loved the duality of her: the nice, soft-spoken, private introvert in interviews and the confident, daring and sexy force of nature on stage and in her videos. Seeing the way she was unapologetic spoke volumes. 

As a 26-year-old, The Velvet Rope has grown with me as I continuously look within myself to become the woman that I am meant to be: whole, happy, and valued. As I slowly approach my thirties, my wish for myself is to be freer from the burdens I put on myself trying to live up to expectations of others. So much so that I was diagnosed with mild depression and was consumed with a crippling fear of feeling unworthy of what I desire or feeling like a failure if I don’t obtain it. 

Every day brings a moment when I have to face myself and the ropes I put up within myself. The song “You” held a mirror to my face with the message that didn’t tell me what I wanted to hear but what I needed to: stop trying to please others and not honor yourself.

You gotta say what you want, you gotta say what you mean /

Trying to please everyone, sacrifice your own needs/

Check in the mirror my friend, no lies will be told then/

Pointin’ the finger again, you can’t blame nobody but you.     

Janet beautifully unearthed the inner workings of the soul behind the strong black woman armor: the complexities and nuances. She was provocative yet conscientious, flawed yet whole. No matter how controversial it may have been to some or it not matching the sales of her previous albums according to critics, Janet’s testimony during the darkest time of her life served a greater purpose. Her words empowered and in return, fans like myself strive to be authentic because she led by example on the platform of her celebrity. I saw a tweet from a girl about how The Velvet Rope made her feel that who she was was okay and reviews about how it saved their lives.

“I don’t pretend to speak for anybody and I don’t pretend to represent anyone,” Jackson said in a 1998 Rolling Stone interview. “At the same time, I need to offer hope. People need nourishment. That’s the art I’m interested in. Hopeful art.”

Growing as a woman meant unlearning what I thought to be true as I dig further understand why the bad things of the past affect me and to mend that wound with self-love and grace. Giving your pain a voice to speak it openly is the first way to heal. Author Toni Morrison said it truly, “You wanna fly? You got to give up the shit that weighs you down.”

When I attended my first Janet concert in 2015 in Grand Rapids, Michigan that night, singing and cheering along with fans watching as she came alive on stage. I could feel that I wasn’t the only one whose life she liberated in some way and we were all connected with the woman who dared to lift back her rope and invited us to do the same. One thing was evident. We were all flying together.

And for that, thank you, Janet. 

How has The Velvet Rope album and era impacted you? 

[ashlemonadechronicles]

Chapter 4, 1st Spiritual Birthday Wish: My Journey To Become Golden

“If I wanted to start a new chapter, I’d have to shed myself of my old skin and everything that no longer served me.” - Necole of xoNecole 

In the midst of ups and downs I’ve encounter, 2016 was a rough year, to say the least. I was struggling with working part-time or other jobs that fell through and knocked me back to square one. I was frustrated and becoming a pessimist as I tried to navigate my life after college. My saving grace during that time was writing, which occasionally pulled me out of my funk but being 25 and still at home with my parents with no steady income was beginning to depress me further.

Yes, I had my degree but I couldn’t even get a job in my field of journalism after my internships. I must’ve sent countless applications across the country, scheduled phone interviews and received countless of those emails that start with “Thank you for applying to [Whatever job I pursued]. Unfortunately...”

Straight to the trash, it went. 

I can say that I was genuinely unhappy and felt more defeated than ever. Despite the encouragement of others who always believed in me (Thank God for that because that's a blessing), I started to question everything, even writing. I know that the devil loves to play his mind games. 

Today, July 29, 2017, is the one year anniversary that I got saved. This came four days after I was baptized at an apostolic church, Greater Bibleway Temple (now Apostolic Life) by the Bishop Rader Johnson in Bay City, Mich. During that service on this day last year, I was filled with the Holy Ghost. I spoke in tongues and felt God’s presence so strongly that it had me crumbling into tears. I’ll never forget when Pastor Skiba told me to close my eyes and surrender. How we have a tendency to want to hold on but still surrender. 

I pictured myself lying in a field of long, swaying green grass overlooking the ocean as the waves crashed. The wind softly brushing through the green strands as I stared into the beautiful blue sky. I watched the clouds drift, birds flying above head as I was in a place not touched by man. I felt God in that silence and I closed my eyes to take it all in and in reality, I did the same. I started speaking in tongues and couldn’t stop. I had no control over my mouth, it was open and speaking freely. I felt those around me crying with amazement, joy, happiness with cries of “Hallelujah!” I went home that night not really wanting to leave because I saw God work through everyone there. I have blown away. My throat was still tingling hours afterward to my surprise. 

I texted my friend who was there and she said, “Jesus is amazing. God saved you tonight. You’re really saved now...today is your spiritual birthday! July 29, 2016!”

So by flesh, I was born January 6, 1991, but by spirit, I was reborn on July 29, 2016. Earlier that year I was pushed closer and closer to God and I’ll tell you who inspired that decision.

The late Denise Matthews. Yes, that’s right. Vanity. It was this video after she died (which saddened me because I always wanted to meet her and interview her. Her story was a powerful one). 

A year later, I’m still writing, as always. It is my lifeline and God given gift that I’ve prayed will take me to heights and push me to tell the stories that will inspire. I’m working at a new full-time job and was blessed with a bonus two months in because of my help. I’m working out again after stopping because of my depression and though I miss church some days, I always try to make up the next time and soak up the word to be better for the week before the next Sunday comes. 

My pastor Phillip Johnson said something powerful to me for his sermon called “Fire Works!” on how every man’s work must go through the fire and what quality are you to endure that fire. Are you of gold, silver and precious stone or hay and grass. Ultimately, the fire will expose what has to be removed. 

1 Corithians 3:12-15 - “[12] Now if anyone builds on the foundation of gold, silver, precious stone, wood, hay, straw - [13] each one’s work will become manifest, for the day will disclose it, because it I’ll be revealed by fire, and the fire will test what sort of work each one has done. [14] If the work that anyone has built on the foundation survives, he will receive a reward. [15] If the work is burned, he will suffer loss, through he himself will be saved, but only as through fire.” 

I said to myself, “I don’t want to be that. I want to be gold!” When gold goes through the fire repeatedly, the bad materials that bubble to the surface to be scraped off until the gold is pure and shines like a mirror with your reflection. 

I’m spiritually 1 years-old and my prayer that I strengthen day-by-day and to not look back. That God will make me gold, pushing me to scrap away what’s not good for me and my old ways that hindered me from making me anew. I have more fire to walk through but through what I’ve been through so far (and I realized this as I write) that I’m here because of what I’ve overcome so far. 

My work will be revealed soon through the fire and my work will be revealed. My spiritual birthday wish is for the fire that will consume me along the way to perfect me. 

[ashlemonadechronicles]

Advice from 30 Somethings

20s aren’t to find out who you are. They’re to fully live and find out who you aren’t. -HeyFranHey

[ashlemonadechronicles]

Chapter 3, ‘I Love Myself When I’m Laughing’: I Was Diagnosed With Depression...Now What?

On the eve of my 20th birthday, I was so naive. Innocently optimistic but...naive.

It’s the night of January 5, 2011, and I’m in bed watching the clock ticking closer to midnight. My last few moments as a teenager, I did what I always did as a kid: daydream about my twenties.

Had you asked me then, I’d thought it’ll be living in a big city as a writer for a magazine, living in a dope Brownstone apartment, hanging out with the girls and dating more beautiful than I could handle. Sounds familiar? Yeah, I’m clearly a Living Single fan but I imagined it to be the time of my life. I was an introverted yet imaginative little kid who loved to write and watch fictional characters on my TV screen. 

I’m six months away from turning 27 and there’s no sitcom life of a girl running off to New York City after college where she finds love and refuge in her sister-girl friendships with the Regines, Maxines and Synclairs. No girl, you’re slapped dead within the lines of ambition and fear with a dash of financial hangups, but who’s keeping track? 

I heard Iyanla Vanzant say in person that  “The life you want is on the other side of the labor pains it takes to birth it.” You learn a lot about yourself in the midst of your pain and struggle, mainly, how did I get myself in this? 

“You have depression.”

I sat in the exam room, quietly absorbing those words. “You have depression.” I look at my doctor and say, “It’s good to hear someone else say it out loud.” It confirms everything I’ve felt for the past two years, suffering in silence. One night after leaving my aunt’s house, I unexpectedly exploded into tears in front of her. Outside on the street, it streamed out and the harder I tried to force it to stop, it didn’t. 

I told her everything. How I’m not happy where I am in my life, how I feel like a failure, how empty I felt. She hugged me, prayed on the spot and watched me drive off. I felt relieved but guilty that I completely unloaded on her. 

It all started in 2013 when I was nearing the end of college and I was in a state of panic. I believe that my depression started then but I would say I was simply sad. I was but this sadness had scary depths and lingered to the point that I became reclusive. What the hell was I going to do? I was terrified of being where I am now. I felt like I was sleep walking and started to close off. I gained so much weight that I was tipping the scales at 190 pounds - the heaviest I’d had been - and was wearing a size 16. I was wearing my mother’s old clothes, which concerned her as she watched me try on pair after pair of jeans I’ve outgrown. 

Once I got my degree in December 2014, I applied for hundreds of job in journalism and after two internships, nothing. Every job interview I did, I was passed over. One job I wanted that I didn’t get, as I read yet another rejection email, I burst into tears in my car. 

One of my favorite podcasts, The Friend Zone with Dustin, Hey Fran Hey and Assante, with their intentions around “mental health, mental wealth, and mental hygiene.” “Just To Get By” about personal vices we use as placeholders were right on time. 

Food became a vice, as I gained back the weight I lost in 2015 and stopped working out. The more savory, the better. The sweeter, gooey and decadent, I inhaled. And sometimes alcohol. When Fran said that her vice was sleeping, that when things in her life aren’t right she’ll literally sleep it away, I felt as if she read my reality out loud for all to here.

This was me. 

I did the same. Sleeping pacified me and temporarily took me away from reality. I loved sleeping and now I realized how bad I had gotten. It just felt good to be out of it. 

P.S. Don’t judge, but that’s what depression does and there’s no such thing as snapping out of it. And worst of all is when someone says, “What do you have to be so depressed about?”

Me to you:

Signs of Depression: read here and know why.  

When I woke up, I was still living with my parents, working a measly part-time minimum wage job in a small town with a bachelor's degree and thousands of dollars in debt from student loans. I’m not saying I’m too good to struggle. I believe it sculpts your and strengthens your armor but aspects of it made me question my gift, myself and if I could make it. 

My dark and twistiness started to eclipse my pure enthusiasm. I felt complacent and suffocated within the realms of pleasing others by following the guidelines of just working a job to make it. 

I am a writer. It’s my first love and has been since I was 3 when I scribbled on every piece of paper in site. I wrote short stories and books that I’d staple together and color to make vibrant. Writing and I are like air to lungs, without it I can’t function. It’s all I want to do for the rest of my life and depression made me want to stop writing. So for a while, I did and I hated myself. I felt like Cristina Yang of Grey’s Anatomy after a gunman held a pistol to her head in the middle of surgery. The trauma of it was so severe that she couldn’t even step into an OR to do what she loves, what give her excitement and fulfillment: sugrery. Without that she felt she was losing a grasp of herself. 

I have mild depression. It’s not severe but it’s on the spectrum and enough to impact me. I started to go back to church and got saved to help me, and it has, but I still find myself slipping backward. The introverted me doesn’t want me to hit “post” and share this struggle that I haven’t shared with my family and friends but as a writer, closing the words off within me is literally likened to volunteered suffocation. I’m doing this for me, not for instant gratification. 

I’m giving myself permission to be open, to feel the air flow through the cracks. To feel the sliver of sun meet my curious and cautious eye. 

I have depression. I live in my head where my thoughts are always in motion and some happen to cluster. I hope whoever reads this and they’re suffering silently when no one is looking, fortunately, you’re not alone. Unfortunately, there’s so many of us in the midst of depression who are aware of their “crap” and trying to “get over their crap.”

There is truly a difference but we have to take a step, no matter how small, to get ourselves back.

Moral of the story: 

P.S. How awesome is Cristina Yang? 

[ashlemonadechronicles]

The Carefree Black Girl Chronicles of ASHLEMONADE: Chapter 2, Introvert & The Internet

I always say that one of the greatest things that have happened to me was finding out I was an introvert. It’s like beating the hardest level in a video game and exhaling with the controller in your hand. It gave me the victory of closure.

I know it has liberated me but I know it some ways it has held me back and I want to change that. (Not too drastically though...) I still value my time of doing nothing.

It was 2014, and like a normal day I was scrolling on Facebook and saw that somebody shared a personality test. I thought it was a funny notion and took the test on 16 Personalities (Take the test for yourself.)

I finished the test and was told that I possessed an introvert personality, particularly INFJ described as “The Advocate: quiet and mystical, yet very inspiring idealists.” INFJ personalities are very rare (Yay!), making up less than 1% of the world population (exclusivity, baby!).

I have an inner goal that has been in my heart for some time that I’d want to bring on YouTube some day soon. I’m anxious already with the thought of pressing record and putting it out there, but it’s a little lemon that I want to squash. I know that I have charisma, sarcasm, and humor in real life but I’m a deer in headlights when I’m in front of a large crowd or even in the middle of one. I look for the exit like someone would look for a man. Exits are a beautiful concept that I appreciate. But, I want to challenge myself to not to become crippled with fear but to do it to liberate myself from it.

I want to step out of the box!

Two people on YouTube that inspire me, Shameless Maya and Lilly Singh aka Superwoman, who both had pure intentions in their platforms that have flourished. Lilly, with her talking about depression and the pressure of getting her college degree and discovering YouTube as a way to be creative. Then Maya, being quiet and feeling ashamed to share her inner creative personality and spirit. Her question, “What would happen if I shamelessly promoted myself online?” and the rest is crazy inspirational.

Cool facts about INFJs

Martin Luther King Jr., Nelson Mandela, Mother Teresa, Alanis Morissette, and Jimmy Carter are INFJs.

They act with creativity, imagination, conviction and sensitivity to create balance, not an advantage.

They often need time alone to recharge and decompress and will do this by withdrawing. We love our space!

Strengths: Creative, insightful, passionate, altruistic, determined and decisive. Weaknesses: Sensitive, extremely private, perfectionistic, can burn out easily and their need to always have a cause or goal and become restless/disappointed if it gets in the way of their goals.

INFJs look for depth and meaning in their relationships, straying from casual encounters.

As a writer, my introvert-ism has greatly benefited me for my love of self-expression and storytelling but I only let people see bits and pieces. I even wrote about it for Black Girl Nerds.

Some were astounded that in 7th and 8th grade that I wrote about the complexities of coming of age, sexuality, death and hurt. I couldn’t tell you how many times teachers would talk to my parents in awe or in shock during parent-teacher conferences about my writing. My writing was “well beyond her age” my dad said one of my teachers told him. I was the type of kid at 11 to read Maya Angelou poetry, listen to the “Who Is Jill Scott?” album and watch “The Color Purple” so much that I could quote the movie from start to finish.

But at 26, I know I have a lot more growing, exploring and overcoming ahead of me. I know for certain that I’ve self-sabotaged myself, procrastinated, or over worry myself into depression. I have to get out of my own way, live and not exist and start working towards the dreams I’ve replayed in my head. All of that requires me to stop hiding in the shadows (yes, it’s cool and comfortable) and step out.  

I’m speaking this into existence and it will be manifested: I will challenge myself to put myself out there, not for likes and attention, but to help me overcome the doubts and overactive inner thoughts. I will not procrastinate and be lazy. I will get out of my little hometown! I will have a thriving bank account! I will have my dream job!

I will, yes, make lemonade and use my gift as a writer and creative to fulfill me and uplift others.

Introverts and everyone else outside that spectrum, what is one thing that you want to try and are afraid to? Something that will bring forth your best self but it scares you or seem too good to be true for you? One thing I know for sure, nothing you dream for yourself is too good for you to have but you have to get uncomfortable for it.

I’m uncomfortable already.

[ashlemonadechronicles]

The Carefree Black Girl Chronicles of AshLemonade: Chapter 1, “What’s In a Name?”

Who is ASHLEMONADE?

She’s a 26-year-old, introverted, artistic black woman going through the growing pains of becoming the woman she’s meant to be. She’s always trying to figure it out one way or another, love herself a little better and can admit that she doesn’t everything like she thought she did.

ASHLEMONADE was a nickname I created in 2011 when I was in need of a new Twitter handle and I just so happen to be craving it - way before the Beyonce phenomenon. I thought it was fresh, unique and a bit quirky. Over the years, it took on new meaning as I’ve been navigating the ups and downs of becoming an adult and growing as a woman. 

‘Taking lemons and making lemonade,’ as old and often cliche as that phrase is, has become my personal little mantra. I come from a line of women who have taken what they’ve been dealt and made it work when no one thought it was possible. Not just the women in my family but black women in general. 

"I’m convinced that we Black women a special indestructible strength that allows us to not only get down, but to get up, to get through, and to get over.” - Janet Jackson 

One of the lessons that I’ve learned in this growing pain of “lemonading” (yeah, cause that’s a thing now) is simply having the nerve to do it. If you have a tendency of getting in your own way, it can be hard. It takes nerve to get up and be determined to change it within the capacity of your vision. As a writer and creative spirit, I seek to one day be in a space where I’ve aligned with my true self and as a writer to create stories and messages that will resonate and inspire. 

ASHLEMONADE is an avenue I’ve created for myself that gives me the permission to me - freely, authentically, shameless, happily. 

It's become my inner compass to overcome my obstacles and not let it consume me, to follow my gut and push myself out of my comfort zone and fears and bare my creativities that I’ve often kept to myself. Not to let depression, doubt and negativity take me away from my goal: living the life I want. To love myself when I don’t feel loveable, embrace my flaws that are a part of me and ignite the desires I may have buried thinking it wasn’t good enough.

“The purpose of life is to know yourself, and love yourself, and trust yourself, and be yourself.” - Unknown 

I know that at 26 that I don’t know everything and don’t need to overwhelm myself with figuring things out. I think our parents, mine especially, come from a generation of “pay stub” over everything and puts pressure to have it all together by a certain age.

“You’re twenty-___ years old about to be twenty-___ years old, get it together!” This accompanied with the frustration of “Hell, I’m trying” in the midst of surviving the post-college mess of trying to have a job lined up with an avalanche of debt you’re trying to pay off with minimum wage jobs.

But we’ll get to that later.

One thing I know for sure, I will not sacrifice my God-given passion and dreams for anyone or anything. The times I did, I was miserable and frustrated; having a world of dreams inside you that you have yet to share is unbearable. No matter how much my struggles can beat me up, I will grip onto the best of me for dear life.

After stopping and starting for so long, I’m challenging myself to step outside the box and stay there. Repeat. To not get so deep into a panic at the thought of making of mistake or when I make one. That when things are hard still thank God, to not become numb from fear or to let others dictate or define me and lose myself.

This is the messiness and lessons in between that they don’t tell you about but in the end, I have faith that everything I strive for will be as sweet and worth is as I envisioned. Hopefully, me sharing my experiences will inspire whoever comes across this to have faith in themselves and step out of their fear.

Sincerely,

ASHLEMONADE