“I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say,
It’s the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing in my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.”
When I read these words or really any words written by the illustrious and amazing Maya Angelou who, in my opinion, is one of the greatest wordsmiths to have walked this planet, I am always taken to a place of possibility. A place where the Anastasia that I am and the woman I’m becoming are blending together in the best way. If my words can have only a measure of the impact on just one person’s life that her words have had on mine, I will be humbled and in awe.
I knew that I wanted to post a blog this week but I hadn’t taken the time to write one. Then I did, and I knew I wanted to post that one later this week, so in honor of International Women’s Day on Monday and Women’s History Month I thought I would spend each weekend honoring some influential women in my life. Some women who have both knowingly and unknowingly been an example to my life.
I will try to post a blog each week throughout this month honoring the amazing women in my life and I hope that by doing so you all are motivated to show your gratefulness to the women who have helped to shape your life thus far.
So today, I want to honor Maya Angelou for inspiring me to write and my amazing Mama, Vanessa for encouraging me to write.
As a kid I remember when all my friends were writing fan fiction. So, I decided to try my hand at it too. I remember letting Mama read it. She took it away and told me not to write that anymore. For so long I didn’t understand why. She told me to be a leader not a follower. She never told me not to write, she told me find a better way to do it. At least that’s what I took from it. I tried over and over to write fan fiction without her knowledge but it never felt right, so I started to find my own fiction. My own stories. Now as an adult thinking back I realize she was forcing me to think for myself. And I’m so glad she did. Because I realized that writing the stories that live inside of me are so much more satisfying.
