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.