Tag: experiences

Better

by Rhobie Toussaint, posted in Creative Writing

better: a poem by rhobie

maybe it would be easier to just give up now

in the midst of what seems to be

endless trials and trials and tribulations

because everyday feels like a struggle;

every day is filled with constant pain.

maybe it would just be easier to call it quits

Hide and lock away before it gets too difficult,

It’s too uncontrollable

unmanageable and uncomfortable.

maybe it would just be easier to stop here,

To stop right now

because tomorrow and the day after that

Is a turmoil of never getting better.

but your story doesn’t have to end here now

you don’t have to avoid taking the risk

you don’t have to avoid love

because you’re afraid of heartbreak.

the best is yet to come

and better days are coming

if you fight for it

You will strive for it

and have faith that it will be.

I wrote this poem last weekend. Inspiration hit, and I was happy that it did because it has been a while since I’ve been writing consistently (life is crazy like that sometimes). Slowly but surely, I’m getting some things together, and part of that is simply writing more as it is my way to cope, express myself, help and inform others, and pass time.

I hope that the message in this piece resonates with anyone who needs it, or can serve as a source of reference when life gets difficult.

Here’s to perseverance, faith, and taking chances ❤

[New] Normal

by Rhobie Toussaint, posted in Articles, Experience, Feature

My New Normal

By Rhobie Toussaint

On March 13, I woke up after snoozing my alarm numerous times. Little did I know, March 13 was also the last day I woke up at 5:30 AM, went to school, and saw my school friends. It was the last day I knew what “normal’ was.  

It is currently a little past Mid-April, over one month after my last day at school (though I didn’t know it was my last day at the time). [Mostly] Everything has changed. My mornings on weekdays begin with classes via Zoom that I dread to wake up for. Sometimes I wake up early enough to do my devotional before “class,” and other days I do them right before falling asleep again. 

Every day my mom calls my name over five times to help her with something. She, a teacher, also has to work from home now. I know this is all new to her too, but I can’t help rolling my eyes at least once every other day before reluctantly rolling out of bed, dragging my feet to the living room, and plastering a fake smile on my face right before  saying “yes, mom.”

There are times when I am so lucky that my mom remembers that she needs something else right before I open my bedroom door. I take a deep breath, turn around and walk right back to the living room. 

Whenever I exit my room it is always for a specific reason — to remind my dad to take his medicine, to eat, to go to the bathroom, to step outside for five minutes so I can remember what it feels like to be outside and then washing my hands again, things of that sort. 

And on the (very) few occasions when I get to step into the car and head to Publix for groceries, I see masks on everyone, everywhere. But it doesn’t seem like anyone’s afraid. It’s as if they are simply used to this, as if they have accepted that this is their new normal.

Then when I get back home, I bring the groceries inside, change my clothes, wash my hands, and then sanitize everything (safety precautions). By then, it is usually time for another nap, but sometimes I get a reminder that I have an assignment due in a few hours instead. On those days, I glare at my laptop before opening it. 

Some days I write, some days I ignore the news alerts of how many new cases of COVID-19 there are in Florida, but of course, I can’t forget the days when I lay in bed for hours with a million thoughts swirling around in my head.

Some of them are so convoluted that I can barely make any sense of them. 

If I want to talk to my friends, then I have to call them. And if we want to see each other, we FaceTime. We reminisce on the days where social distancing wasn’t in place, before realizing that just over a month ago, our lives were completely different. 

Just over a month ago I was planning a trip to the beach. Just over a month ago I was allowed to go to church services throughout the week and I was able to hug everyone after service was over. 

Just over a month ago, my “normal” was different. And now, it will never be the same.

 

In the words of an article I read, “It’s a slow life, this social distancing thing.” Even when I was writing this piece, it was still mind-blowing to think about the fact that EVERYTHING was different just over a month ago. And even after this passes, nothing will ever be the same. 

Every day can feel like a blur when you’re home all day, every day, but the extra time also leaves an opportunity to self-reflect, to make changes that you’ve been putting off. You can take up new hobbies and try out new things. 

Right now, all of us have a different ‘normal.’ In fact, the very picture of what normal looks like in our minds is probably all distorted. But we can make something of it. 

Make something of your new normal. 

Here

by Rhobie Toussaint, posted in Creative Writing

Here they stand.

One girl and one boy, face to face.

And here they are standing hand in hand, with fixed gazes. They look at each other, close in proximity, and warm smiles are exchanged. They are the kind of smiles that reach the eyes, that’s how the pair know they’re real. Nothing but bliss is being shared between the two.

Here they stand in the living room, unintentionally ignoring the noise coming the T.V. and the sound of kids laughing outside. In this moment, the sounds of the characters on the television show yelling at one another and the chatter outside all fade away.

In this moment, no words are said, no comments are exchanged. The mere presence of one another is enough to fulfill them both.

Here they stand.

One girl and one boy. They are facing each other with their backs against the world because right now, the moment being shared between the two is all that matters.

 

This week I wanted to write something on the more sappy, romantic side. When I think of true, pure love, I think of moments like the ones the characters in the piece of sharing. Sometimes, the simple act of just sitting by, or in this case, standing near one another is enough. It doesn’t always have to be expensive outings. The little things, they matter too. 

I think that once you are able to enjoy your time with someone, whether you two are out and about, having a simple conversation, or laughing after an intense staring contest, it is clear that a connection has been established. 

Within Me

by Rhobie Toussaint, posted in Creative Writing

I found love within myself. 

It wasn’t something that was easy or happened overnight, but rather took a lot of patience and a lot of time. It was countless days of telling myself that what happened was not completely my fault. It was nights of reminding myself that I am capable of being loved. I am worthy of being loved, even if the words of others suggested otherwise. 

It took time for me to understand that trying to find fulfillment in others never end well. People leave, and when they do, I am left with my own self — my self to work on, my self to appreciate, my self to love. 

I taught myself how to love again. 

Not desperately for I risk not being valued, and not helplessly for I could end up loving someone I never should’ve. I had to teach myself that it’s crucial to know my worth and to respect myself. And the same respect I have for myself is the same respect I deserve from anyone who claims to love me.

I had to truly understand that I must love myself fully, before I try to love another. I had to understand that the only way to know how someone else should love me is if I know how to love myself first. 

I found faith within myself again. 

Faith, and hope, that the last time will not be like the next because of what has changed in my life and what has changed in me. It will get better because I will not let myself remain on the ground. It won’t be the same experience next time because now I know. I know that the pain I feel is temporary. I know now how to treat myself. I know that if I don’t have hope, and if I do not have faith, then there is nothing to hold on to anymore. 

I learned how to love again. 

I learned how to love myself again. 

I reminded myself to hold on to hope, and to hold on to faith. 

And I couldn’t be prouder of who I’ve become.

 

I suppose that this piece is a different version of the one I posted last week. A friend of mine told me that people are often in the mindset that someone else has to save them. I personally can recall times when someone else has helped me through a difficult situation, but I think it’s important for people to understand that it doesn’t always have to be that way. You don’t always have to wait for the knight in shining armor or someone to dig you out of the hole. 

In life, there will (or at least that has been the case for me) be people who help you along the way, but never forget the power that you have in yourself.

Pure

by Rhobie Toussaint, posted in Creative Writing

You taught me what it’s like to truly be loved.  

You showed me that it goes beyond saying “I love you” and a few kind words, but is demonstrated through actions. You were never condescending to me, nor did you ever mock or belittle me. You uplifted me, constantly encouraging me to try my hardest, and to always recognize how far I’ve come.

You stayed even when I was at my lowest, even when you were upset, even when the situation seemed nearly hopeless. You didn’t leave. Instead, you assured me that you weren’t going anywhere, and you handled each seemingly hopeless situation with diligence. 

I don’t have to assume that you love me, I know you do. I see it through your care for me, through your patience, through your loyalty. 

You taught me how to love again. 

Not recklessly, desperately, or helplessly, but to love and have respect for myself, and to love someone who has respect for me. You reminded me to love fully, but before I do, to know whether or not what, or who, it is that I’m about to love is good for me or is worth it. 

“Understand this,” you told me. “When you give your all into something or someone, it will not always be easy. Some days will be significantly more difficult than others. Make sure that who you are loving, and what you put your energy in is not simply draining you or bringing you down.” 

I carry those words with me until this very day.  

You reminded me to have hope and faith. 

You emphasized that the broken heart of mine will not remain the same forever, and that even though it is broken, I am not. You helped me understand that we are all subject to hurt and pain, but we must not dwell on it, but rather grow from it, and to have faith that it will get better. 

You taught me love. True love. Pure love.

You reminded me not to neglect faith, and not to neglect hope. 

And for that, you will never be forgotten. 

This creative writing piece isn’t necessarily about a personal experience of mine, but I do feel that the lessons the character learned from the other are lessons that we should all learn, if it something not known already.    

To have love that is pure, I think, is such as beautiful thing. Growth, to me, is also beautiful.