OUT OF TOUCH

Chapter 16| Yoga

Chapter 16: Yoga

Rose

Living in Detroit for three months now, adapting to the new environment was hectic. I enrolled into Crestwood for my high school diploma and my skin color didn't faze many people anymore. Infact as far as everyone was concerned, I was black whilst in Nigeria, people recognized me as mixed.

Sure, I spent twelve years in the US before now but this time, I fully understood how much different I and other people like me were from everyone else. Did it make it right to address me as black and disregard my whiteness, I had no idea. Mixing cream in coffee didn't make it black coffee anymore. I was not usually into debates but I would love a discussion on how mixed kids ought to be viewed by the public.

I didn't necessarily need to go back to high school as a senior to get into college but my dad and I agreed I needed the break and it was more convenient to sit for the SATs coming up in a month as an indigenous student. Let's just say I had a fucking lot on my plate moving back to America.

Having my SATs soon, my college essay to start drafting and college applications to write to the schools I haven't decided on yet, I was almost depressed by the workload. I had my scholarship intact from winning this year's Winter Olympics and the cash prize for my bronze medal sat tranquilly in my bank account. All I had to do was handpick the school I wanted which was harder than it looked.

Just like I had told Bassey, I wasn't sure I wanted to go to college anymore which would cause a forfeit of my scholarship and I knew not what I wanted to do with my life either. My family changed too. I had a dad and a stepmom and half-sisters and we all lived in a house that wasn't a place I lived as a child, thankfully. I just needed all the fresh start I could have and going back to the house I grew up in where there was little to no love between my parents would've been detrimental.

My dad moved to Michigan and settled in Detroit with his family years back. He must've been traumatized by his ex-wife enough to leave our small house in Georgia and move to the other side of the country. Speaking of my mom, I usually thought about her once a year which was not voluntarily still. I knew if I gave more effort into forgetting her completely, I might just succeed. Karma could be a bitch and throw me right back around so that I bumped into her again and I acknowledged the possibility from time to time... and I dread that possibility to be honest.

My dad's new house was just the right size. Not too big that it'd spread the feeling of emptiness and not small to feel cramped. I was excited to see my stepmom and sisters before I arrived at the house but when I did, I could barely communicate with them. The last time I saw Lilian was about eight years ago and I'd say her prime never left her.

The gorgeous brunette accepted me with open arms which was a given as we'd bonded the little time we knew each other. My sisters on the other hand, I had to work towards gaining their affection. The shock on their faces when their dad introduced me as their older sister remained engraved in my memory and I was determined to do everything I could to win their hearts and prove my worth.

I started my therapy as soon as I settled in Detroit. My therapist was a calm soft-spoken woman but I gave her a lot of hard time refusing to be cooperative. Maybe I hated my childhood so much that I took it out on her and oddly despised her for being black. I got reminded of my mom every time I saw a photo frame of her and her daughter in her office.

Despite my hardhearted attitude, she remained calm and soft-spoken. It angered me. Perhaps I was expecting her to snap back and give me an earful like my mom would but this woman did not yield. A month passed and I just got tired of my one-sided anger. It was useless pouring more oil on a coal that refused to flame. Also, I realized my anger was directed at the wrong person and I didn't know why I made it a matter of skin color.