I am a Minority.
In the natural sense of the word, I am a lesser part of a bigger whole.
Being a woman in the world creates a struggle. Being a black woman in the world creates another. Being a black woman Sergeant in the military who prides herself in her frugal lifestyle, her couponing skills, her effort at green living and love of cooking things other than soul food creates my biggest struggle of all.
I feel like no one is like me, and no one can relate to me. A blogger who blogs about everything and nothing. A minority that doesn’t talk about being a minority. I’m an enigma, and enigmas are watched and seldomly supported.
I am a minority. I am a Mom who loves to laugh, loves to cry and loves to encourage. I’m also a woman who loves the art of sarcasm, perfectionism and being an overachiever. All the while, keeping my house in disarray most days of the week. I’m unique. I’m me, support or not.
Day after day, I’m learning that my purpose may be to encourage but not be encouraged. I cheerlead for most moms I meet; telling them to keep strong, to feel important and to love who they are and what they do. But, its not returned. I’m an enigma and encouraging an enigma is hard to figure out.
So, this frugal-messy-imperfect-military-overacheiver-coupon clipping-sarcastic-vulnerable-strong-chocolate covered woman will continue to be. Alone. Blogging. Tweeting. Living. Supportless but continuing on.
I’m an enigma. I’m a minority. I’m here.