Malaika

Nine out of ten people you talk to think I'm some tough chick with a slight soft side. Talk to anyone who really knows me and they'll tell you the exact opposite. 

After reviewing my last entry I realized that I didn't introduce myself. But then again, that's more or less the type of person I am. I tend to let people know enough about myself to be interested without ever letting them know who I am. Considering my name has a lot to do with who I am now, I guess I should start there.

If you know me, you probably think that Angel is my real name. It isn't. Malaika is my real name, but it means angel in a few different languages. 

In seventh grade, right before school was ending for summer, we had to write a paper on what our names meant. The day I was assigned the paper, a group of girls that liked to torment me decided it would be funny to push me down half a flight of stairs. I sprained my ankle and was on crutches for two weeks. A week after the incident; the day before I had to read my paper to the class, two of the girls that had pushed me tried to shove me into a wall after school. I was tired, in pain, and sick of the consent bullying, so I decided to make the pain go away. I dropped one of the crutches, picked up the other, jammed it into one of the girls stomach, and played baseball with the other girls face. Both girls fell to the ground. I picked up my crutches and walked away. A boy in my class watched the whole thing happen, but I didn't care, I was numb. I walked all the way home on my sprained, swollen ankle and didn't feel a thing. The next day as I was reading my paper to the class, the boy who had seen what I had done whispers to the boy sitting next to him "Angel?!? That's ironic, I seen her smack the shit outta some girls yesterday." I couldn't help but smile. I felt empowered. From that day on, I went by Angel. The bullying stopped.  

I became the irony. I was a soft spoken girl named Angel that would rip your head off if you crossed me. Angel was created out of fear. Malaika hid behind Angel's tough exterior and in some ways she still is.  


                             Love always,
                                    Suburban Angel

P.S.
   If you're ever thinking about calling me by my real name, dont.

Angel

A while back I convinced myself that I would be nothing more then a typical suburban girl. I live in a small but growing town with everything from three story houses to Friday night drive by shootings. I've been a theater geek most of my life but have tried just about every extracurricular activity you can think of. From ballet to football, I've done it all. For a girl who was somewhat popular, very well liked, and had the potential to be amazing at anything she set her mind to; no one could understand why I was so unhappy. My potential was my downfall. Not to sound conceited, but the fact that I was so good at so many things but never excelled at any of them wore on my confidence. By the time I was 17, I gave up on myself. 

I'm 19 now, and the scared, shy 17 year old with no self confidence is nothing more than a memory. Making the mistake of giving up on everything I could have been was the biggest mistake of my life. Starting over is a challenge but I refuse to be counted out.

I'm not really one to talk much about how I feel but I need an outlet, so I'm letting this blog be your gateway into my mind. I'll probably update every day. For such a small town, things tend to change very quickly. Let's just hope you don't get to bored with my not-so-epic journey out of the suburbs. Just remember, you can take the girl outta the suburbs, but you cant take the suburbs outta the girl.

                   Love always,
                         Suburban Angel


P.S.
   Winter sucks