Body Then, Body Now, Dysmorphia WOW!

So, if you have read any of my blogs about my body image and the work I have done over the last 15 months (as I did in my blog from Thursday), you would have thought I spent most of my adult life as a behemoth....an escapee from the Mesozoic era. In my head, although I know my body has fluctuated in size and fitness, it has not, in reality, except for about a year from 2002-2003 been really out of whack, but also, in my head, I have always had love handles, I had never before had abs in any significant way, and even as a twink I was never quite fit enough and still saw a partially fat kid in the mirror.

I want to be really clear. I really believed the previous statement. I remember having pictures taken by my beloved friend Nicole Harris Zajkowski (aka Noodle) one summer, the first summer that I started working out intentionally, and I remember those pictures were beautiful, but I also remember looking in the mirror and thinking...damn...I still have back fat. I had a waist size of 28 and was nearly 6' tall (I am 5"11 and some change), but in my mind and in the mirror, I was slightly overweight (at 155 pounds....lord have mercy). I was so convinced of this fact, that, in fact, I gave away all of the pictures that Noodle took of me because, while I thought they were great, I didn't want to see my slightly grotesque body.

Oh yeah, there is some crazy shit that goes on in my brain.

Yesterday, my ex-boyfriend from 14 years back (and still loved friend) Lonnie Emmanuel Tapia (check out his design work, he's amazing), was going through boxes in his parents house in the beautiful Tesuque, NM (where I had the joy of visiting twice)...and he came across some things from when we were dating including a drawing he did of the two of us and a picture montage that he created of me....which I am sharing here now. When I looked at those pictures, I could remember how I once viewed them and viewing them now, I fervently wish that I could have seen myself as the beautiful kid I was. If I had, maybe I wouldn't have had to walk some of the roads I walked. I could have avoided rehab and maybe even not have contracted HIV.

PLEASE OH PLEASE OH PLEASE don't get me wrong. I am who I am and with the gifts I have because I DID walk that road, and I love who I am today.  But I would be a lying fool to say that it would have been an easier, gentler road if I could have found an easier path to loving that young man that I have now seen again after so many years. 

But the beautiful thing about getting a gift such as the one that Lonnie gave me yesterday is that I get this chance and moment to look at my younger self and apologize.

To my younger self: I am so sorry I didn't love you the way you deserved to be loved. I am so sorry that I couldn't see that you were a beautiful and gifted young man with so much love for so many people but not enough love for yourself. I am sorry that I couldn't give you what you needed at that time to learn to love yourself. I am sorry that I couldn't be brave enough for you to ask for help and to let folks that loved you know that you were hurting and wounded and needed a little bit of strength to get the help and support you needed. I failed you then, but I won't fail you ever again. I love you now, and I love me now, and I forgive us both.

Life will always give you a chance to see the truth....it's up to us to figure out how to really see it.

PS Thank you, Lonnie. You have always been such a gift to me in my life, and yesterday you gave me a blessing that I value so very much.


PPS Dear Younger Self....why couldn't you get your shit together....looking back at my pictures...you were real pretty....we could be living large off of a model's back account. Forget what I said. I'm mad at you again. (Just kidding).

Please Come Back Dr. King

It's the day after my birthday party. Last night I was surrounded by some of the most beautiful and amazing people that I have ever had the pleasure to meet. That so many tremendous humans came together to celebrate my birthday was a sweet joy and a blessing. This morning I had to fight my own internal tapes that tell me that I don't deserve to be loved by so many beautiful people, but this morning those tapes don't win. Love wins. Thank you my family, my community, my people for loving me so gently and so beautifully last night.

I have been crying for the last five minutes. And not just crying but acting like I have been beaten for doing something wrong. You know the kind of crying where you can't catch your breath. You know what I am talking about.

But they are actually happy tears. Let me tell you a story.

This morning, a person that is family to me as if he were blood kin, posted on his Facebook wall, an excerpt from Dr. King's speech "I've Been to the Mountaintop." If you haven't heard this speech, and so many people have not heard it, you should listen to it now. This was the speech that Dr. King gave the night before he was assassinated. These were the final words he spoke in public:

Well I don't know what will happen now. We've got some difficult days ahead. But it really doesn't matter with me now. Because I've been to the mountaintop. I don't mind. Like anybody I would like to live a long life. Longevity has it's place. But I'm not concerned with that now. I just want to do God's will. And He's allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I've looked over. And I've seen the promised land. I may not get there with you. I want you to know tonight that we as a people will get to the promised land. So I am happy tonight. I am not worried about anything. I am not fearing any man. Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord.

Maybe I am a big old softy...but listening to that speech in the doctor's own words maybe me choke up like an old black lady at a funeral.

Hey glory.

Yesterday was the 47th anniversary of Dr. King's "I Have a Dream" speech. Yesterday Glen Beck and Douchnozzle Extreme Sarah Palin held a rally...at the Lincoln Memorial....talking about taking back the Civil Rights Movement.

Fuck them. FUCK THEM. FUCK THEM IN THE FUCKING SKULL WITH A RUSTY RAZOR BLADE COVERED IN EBOLA!

So glad I got that out of my system.

I am actually angry. I am so angry I could spit random toiletries. The anger is directed solely at one target: myself. I am angry that I have succumbed to hatred. On the anniversary of Dr. King's most famous speech. I have betrayed his memory and legacy by bowing down to the emotion of the enemy. I have let hatred overcome my spirit, and I have reveled in it.

I am ashamed of myself. Dr. King deserves better. I deserve better.

I wish that I could love my enemy as I love myself. I wish that I could live the spirit of Dr. King.

Let me be clear. Dr. King was a human. He was a womanizer and was not faithful to the commitments he made to Mrs. Coretta Scott King. He was gay accepting but only to a point. He kept his mentor and friend and architect of the 1963 March on Washington Bayard Rustin on the sidelines and out of the limelight because of his sexual orientation. But not despite all that, but because of all that...because he was human and because being human he still inspired us to be more than we are and gave us the space to imagine ourselves as better than this world would have us be, I love Dr. Martin Luther King.

I remember.

In high school, I had an amazing history teacher by the name of Frederick Burton. In my senior year, his three year old daughter recited, from memory, Dr. King's "I Have a Dream" speech as part of a Black History Month celebration in Minneapolis. Mr. Burton blessed my entire school by having his daughter's rendition of the speech broadcast over the school's intercom system. In my mind and in my spirit I can still hear her little and powerful voice say, "Free at last...free at last...thank God Almighty...we are free at last."

I believed every word that little girl said.

The power and legacy of Dr. King is that he continues to inspire us 42 years after he was assassinated by the United States government. Now, more than at anytime when Dr. King was alive, we know the truth about him as a man. We know about his weaknesses and his foibles, and we, or at least I, love him even more for his humanity. And though Glen Beck and Sarah Palin tried to co-opt his dream yesterday...though they straight up lied about the coincidence of organizing a rally on that day while including Dr. King's fucked up, self-hating, stupid and ugly niece in the line up for the event....no one can take Dr. King from us. No one can take his dream from us.

Dr. King DID get to the mountaintop...and he DID see the promised land...and though that land may still be far off...and though many of us may not live to see our arrival...the arc of the universe does bend towards justice...and we will get there...we shall overcome...some day....very...very soon.

A Letter to the Harris Family and "Mona"

The world lost an amazing woman this week. She changed my life. Here is a link to Mrs. Harris' obituary. After the letter is a poem I wrote to remember Mrs. Harris.


Dear Harris Family:

For 17 years, you have welcomed me into your lives, and into your home. I have spent Thanksgivings, Christmases, and Easters with you. I have met Grandmas and Aunties, cousins and siblings. I can remember Marcus before Shelley, Shane before potty training, and Nicole when she started dating Erik....the first time.

I remember the first time I met Mrs. Harris. It was after the regional speech tournament. I had just won a medal for storytelling and Mrs. Harris gave me a ride home from South High School. I think I talked non-stop through the entire ride from S. Minneapolis to Camden. That poor woman.

Over the last almost 20 years, your family has become my family. If I didn’t show up for a holiday, I heard about it the next holiday...from the entire family (including new relatives that I hadn’t even met yet).

When I heard Mrs. Harris was sick, I wasn’t worried even a little bit. I had just lost my cousin to cancer. So I refused to believe that God would take away two people that I loved from the same disease. Plus, I thoroughly believed that nothing short of the second coming would move Mrs. Harris from here to Heaven. That woman was a force of nature. But, God had other plans for Mrs. Harris, and, as happens more often than I like, his plans and my plans weren’t the same. Good thing He is running things and not me. When I got the call from Noodle last weekend that Mrs. Harris was in hospice, I quite seriously was unbelieving and stunned. I had just spoken to her not too long previous to that. I had just spoken with Mr. Harris more recent than that. When Noodle called to tell me that Mrs. Harris had gone home to her King, I was walking down the street. And I felt like the world had gotten colder and darker. A great light was taken away from all of us on Monday.

I believe in God. I believe in his mercy, his love, and his justice. I don’t understand Him sometimes. And I don’t undestand this. Perhaps I am selfish. But I want to hear Mrs. Harris’s laugh again. I want to see her smile. I want her to hug me. She once came to visit me in the hospital. I had been with friends all evening, and I had not cried. But when the nurse said that she was there. When I saw her. When that beautiful spirit walked into my darkness, the glory of God was made manifest and for a moment, I had hope and the darkness was blasted away by the power of her spirit. She held me as I cried. She made me believe that I would be ok. Mrs. Harris knew all my secrets and she still loved me. She taught me that I didn’t have to hide anymore. That I was worthy of being loved. I never really got to tell her what that meant to me. She was the angel God sent to me that day. She never treated me any differently. Her heart and her home opened wider to me. And I thank God that Mrs. Harris allowed me to be a part of her life.

I wish I could be there with you all today. I wish I could hug Mr. Harris and thank him for 17 years of laughter. I wish I could hug Marcus and tell him thank you for the years of joking and welcome. I wish I could hug Shane and thank him for being a part of my family. Most of all I wish I could hug Noodle, my big sister, my friend, and give back some of the love and warmth that she has given to me since I was 14 years old.

I never once called Mrs. Harris by her first name. I was raised old school by my Mom. And the parents of friends are Mr. and Mrs. Period. But, I thought, this one time, Mrs. Harris wouldn’t mind.

Love,
Brandon


Mona

I remember her smile, can call it to memory
like her laughter
like her phone number
the only one
besides my lover’s
that I have memorized


I remember the angel
that walked in a mother’s clothing
in a minister’s robe
in a sister’s body
in a wife’s spirit
in a friend’s embrace
who cooked banquets
fed spirits
til they swelled
with blessings
til they filled
with hope

I remember the woman
who loved me
when I was too lost
too alone
too scared
too broken
too heart worn
too burdened
too wounded
to love myself

I remember the gift
that opened her home
and her heart
her family
and her life
to an awkward boy
who loved her daughter
who laughed too loudly
who stayed away too long
who left a voicemail
to say goodbye

I remember the teacher
who dedicated her life
and her body
her wisdom
and her strength
to tear down obstacles
to clear paths
to build roads and bridges
into brighter futures
for Northside children
that the world
tried to ignore
or throw away

I remember Mrs. Harris
the woman
the gift
the teacher
the bridge builder
the wife
the Grandma
the Sister
the Mother
the friend
the angel
that God called home too soon

-Brandon Lacy Campos
-Oakland, CA
-12 February 2009

Mrs. Mona Harris

Today, the world lost a beautiful spirit. Mrs. Mona Harris. She was there for me at times when my own Mother was unable to be there. I love you Mrs. Harris. I love you Mr. Harris. I love you Nicole. I love you all. Thank you for the gifts you gave to me Mrs. H. Thank you for the gifts you gave to us all.

You are at Peace now with your King. You believed in him and his mercy. You believed in his grace and his love. He has prepared a place for you at his table. There is no pain and no tears, no more suffering, and there you can watch over us all.

I love you.