Since Drake has seemed to make bearing your soul trendy, I've decided to do my own "In My Feelings" challenge. Only I'm not kicking or shiggying in front of nobody's camera. After, again, a series of failed courtships—all beginning strong and exciting then abruptly ending—I could not help but to step back and assess. Like for real. I had to step back and look for trends. What was showing itself? What needed my attention?
And not surprisingly so, my insight came to me in a dream. In this dream, five of my most prominent beaus over the last few year were lined up like the aspiring contenders on the game show, The Price is Right as I stood on display.
The crowd yelled dollar amounts in hopes the men would take their advice. “One million!” “Five million!” The numbers hurled through the auditorium. Now it was time for the men to bid.
“One dollar,” the first said. Now, anyone who knows how the game works, the first bidder never goes with one dollar. This technique is generally reserved for the final bidder who’s pretty confident that the others have overbid. Nonetheless, I stood perched and smiling on the podium.
“One dollar,” said the second. Again, anyone who knows the show knows this is not how it works. Still, I smiled and took it.
The third man said nothing. He smiled. He stared at me very piercingly then looked away, still saying nothing.
The fourth looked perplexed. He stammered um after um for several minutes, never giving a bid, and his time had passed.
By now, I was desperate for any bid over a dollar. The fifth man bit his lip as if to say "five." Surely, five anything would be better than one dollar. And with a dragged out pronouncement, he bid. “Fifty cents.”
I continue to smile, humiliated, but dare not show it. The audience continued to shout seven-figure amounts when the host—whose face I could not see-- began to read. “The man closest to the true value of Gerald and the winner is—“
"Wait!" I screamed out. "I want to pick!" I looked at these five men from the pedestal, broadly and widely. Suddenly, I noticed something; I noticed their similarity. I noticed the men were strong-willed, bearded, high-yellow professionals-- all with tailored suits and manicured nails, beguiling smiles and cunning ways, big dreams and wounded spirits. They were all manifestations of the same man-- all actual men who had chapters in my life; .
The host chimed in, "But you've already picked. You've been picking the whole time."
"Huh?" I asked.
And in that moment, the host revealed his face. He was my father, wearing the same suit, the same trimmed beard. It was in that moment, I realized all these men were manifestations of my late father. It became strikingly clear that I had been seeking my father in my attempts at relationships. It shook me. I was literally dizzy. As clear as it was, until that moment, I had never noticed.
I sprang up from the dream with a gasp. What was this dream intending to teach me? What in me kept reaching for my father. A whole different type of daddy issue.
This dream encouraged me to continue to look within and seek clarity on what's what and what's next for my life and relationships. In this shadow of the #InMyFeelingsChallenge,I encourage you to do the same. Don't worry about Kiki, worry about you.