Jo
[Image Description]A dark-skinned Black woman with long box braids stands in front of a French window, facing away from the camera. She is backlit. The light catches the curves of her cheek, her shoulder, an uncreased forehead. You can’t see her face, but you can tell that there is a solemnity to her expression.
[Caption]Being alone, to me, is different than being lonely. I’ve been alone for a long time, and there’s a lot of freedom in that. Freedom to do what I want when I want, freedom to be selfish, freedom to always choose me. But if I’m honest with myself, there’s also fear. Fear of change. Fear of letting someone close. And lately, I’ve been asking myself—am I choosing myself out of fear? Because I’m afraid of choosing someone else? Afraid of giving them the power to hurt me?
[Comments]
beyoncesgivenchydress:Speak your truth, Dr. Jojo! I’m alone a lot myself, but I’m only lonely on occasion. Sometimes I reallydo wonder if fear is what’s keeping me from doing something about it. But then I meet men... and I get over it lol
iamnursemegofficial:??????
exquisitetaste:Honestly girl, I never felt more lonely than when I was with my ex husband. The grass isn’t greener.
h0tnb0thered69:hi I’m so horny right now visit my profile if you want to see more??
palomaortizauthor:I had this epiphany two years ago, and a few months later I met the love of my life. I was really closed off before him.
enlightenedone1357:oh so you’re alone now? This is what’s wrong with you bitter ass bitches. U spend all that time talking smack about men and then when you get old and your value declines you start crying about being alone. I hope your feminism keeps you warm at night
beyoncesgivenchydress:lol this comment has ‘no bitches’ written all over it
enlightenedone1357:jokes on you, i get my pick of women
beyoncesgivenchydress:your waifu pillows don’t count
Malcolm Waters: yo is your latest post about me?
I snickered, then sent Mal a YouTube link to “You’re So Vain” by Carly Simon. He responded with a laugh emoji, and aFair,followed byAre you on your way? Parking’s pretty rough right now.
Already here,I replied. I’d arrived at Lincoln Park Zoo thirty minutes early, in part because I was nervous, but largely because I had nowhere else to be. Once Mal got over his assumption that I was asking him to shoot soft-core porn (“What else was I supposed to think?” he’d said later, when we met at a coffee shop to plan the shoot), we’d gotten deep into brainstorming ideas for how to sell the world’s most conspicuous vibrator in a fun “safe for work” fashion. We ran through multiple motifs—Mal suggested emulating vintage vibrator ads, which mostly featured women with sky-high beehives smiling vacantly as they pressed their phallic “beauty aides” against their cheeks, an idea we quickly discarded once we discovered that the Tantra eclipsed half my face—until, exasperated, I made a joke about how I could probably saddle the thing up and ride it into town. Mal’s face had gone dead serious.
“That’s it,” he said. “That’s perfect.”
Which was how I ended up waiting at a bench outside the Lincoln Park Zoo Endangered Species Carousel in a voluminous pink dress, marveling at how much the seal steed already resembled a gigantic dildo preproduction. Luckily, it being a Tuesday, the zoo wasn’t very busy, and the red-bearded carousel attendant agreed to give us a little time on the carousel in exchange for a sneaky forty-dollar tip.
I scrolled through my email. Denise had forwarded me a handful of campaign offers, most of them from hair gummy companies hoping I’d be willing to sully my MD with their snake oil for a good price. And there was another, again, from Dr.Makinen.
Josephine,
I just met a young woman during training who also does the social media thing. I’ve been informed that maybe the ticky tocks have more value than I initially assumed. So please take this as an apology for my dismissive tone in the last email.
On a more serious note, please let me know if you are still considering a fellowship in Pulmonary Critical Care. I really think you’d be an excellent addition to our field, and I would be happy to aid your application in any way.
Sincerely,
Mikael Makinen, MD
I bit down on my cheek, warring between annoyance, because why wouldn’t he accept that I wanted to be left alone, and delight, because Dr.Makinen still thought I was so good at my job that he wouldn’t allow me to escape it.
Not that he had a choice. Once upon a time, I’d been a machine of a resident, on the wards earlier than everyone else, gone later, shrewd, on top of my patients. Good at procedures. Before graduation, I’d probably appeared hypercompetent to people like Dr.Makinen.
But it had been an illusion. It hadn’t been strength or talent that fueled me, but constant, crippling fear that I would miss something, do something wrong, hurt someone irreparably. The second they handed me my diploma, the anxiety that had held me together like Elmer’s glue melted away.
Posting a video of myself riding a man-size dildo might scar a few soccer moms, but they would be much more likely to recover than a patient.
I got a text. Mal.
Just parked. Walking over. Which dress did you pick again? Mystical Woodland Fairy or Tavern Wench?
