My First Time (Abroad)

My sister had been doing it for years.

It was my mother’s first time doing it. 

My dad still has never done it (not really).

And I was very afraid to. 

I am afraid to fly, and I would like to contribute that fear to why it took me so long to travel abroad. But, in the end, I don’t think that was it. If I’m being honest about it- I was worried about what other people thought of Americans. 

To be even more blunt- I wondered what they thought of black Americans. 

Would I like the food there? Was I not cultured or sophisticated enough if it turned out that I didn’t? 

What should I wear? Could I be free and wear tight jeans if I wanted to? Or was that feeding into some black American girl stereotype that I wasn’t quite sure existed? Dress up…or down? Lipstick or no? Dark or light?

What would I do with my hair? I couldn’t very well leave it to the unknown “overseas”- did I have to do a protective style every time I left he States? (Hold tight to your seats if you’re a reader who doesn’t know what a protective style is….you will soon learn). 

Did I look funny? Did I talk funny? My mother was known to be a little on the heavy side in America- would she be made fun of overseas?

CAUSE I DON’T LET NOBODY TALK ABOUT MY MAMA. 

I had a lot of questions- charge it to the American way. But that was then. Last year, Spring 2014 was my first time out of the country and, since that time, I have visited 5 countries. (To be fair, I won’t count the countries who’s airports I just lounged around in waiting for my layover. That would make it 7 countries. So there!) 

What happened since then? In one year, I had done 5 times what I couldn’t do all of my life and what I should have done in college. 

This is Go, Girl, Go. 

I know the title encourages you to explore your options, but please stay a while.  

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