don’t forget your fierce
Have you ever had a moment that made you stop and realize that you did some boss ass shit? Giving ourselves credit for the things we have overcame and outgrown is sometimes difficult to see and do. The times that you have stepped into your superstardom and fiercely kicked butt are still there and in you.
Yesterday, I was thinking about my old car. I have owned around nine cars in my lifetime, and a few stuck out as memorable. It was a green, 4-door, ’98 Honda Civic and I LOVED that car. To this day, whenever I see that model and year on the road, I point and yell “Look, that’s my car!” Sadly, after many, MANY miles and too much money put into it, I gave it up. However, like many car owners who REFUSE to give up a car they love, I had been through quite a few breakdowns.
Back in my Cali days, I used to work in Santa Monica and live in the San Fernando Valley. So, like most SF valley people who wanted to dodge the traffic-jammed 405 freeway, my daily commute involved a trip through Topanga Canyon. During this time, I was a full-time student at MSMU, enrolled in a weekend program. One day, my car broke down while driving down from the Canyon. I had no cell service, rideshare didn’t exist at that time, and even if it did, I had no money to pay for it. It was starting to get dark, so being the boss ass woman that I am, I started walking. Along this road there are no gas stations or sidewalks, so I was literally walking along mountain ridges trying to beat sundown. Cars whizzed past as I hurried to get to a safer place, as I finally found a space that was a bit safer. Seconds later, a small Honda (like mine but tan in color) pulls up along me. The guy looks extremely worried at my fate. He rolls down his window, I look over but continue walking.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine.” [all lies, I’m scared as hell]
“You shouldn’t be walking this is unsafe! Was that your car back there?”
“Yeah, it broke down and no service. I should be okay once I can get service.”
“Nah, I can’t let you walk! It’s getting dark, these cars won’t see you. I promise I’m not a crazo!”
I politely refuse and continue walking.
“Ma’am please. I can’t leave you here, my mom and sister would kill me! Hey, look here’s my work badge with my full name. You can even take a picture of my plate…”
“My name is Gabriel (no lie, y’all) what’s yours?”
I tell him my name and he agree to drop me off at the bottom of the canyon at the shopping center. I planned to call my sister from there. He shows me his drivers license to triple verify that he wasn’t a wackadoo. Still, I am always ready, just in case my intuition fails me and I have to go full Christie Love on someone. While on the five-minute drive, I discovered that Gabriel worked in Venice, had two sisters and a mom, and loved to exercise and attend church. My phone service pops back on and I start to make phone calls. I reach my destination and thank him for helping me. He waves and drives away. A few minutes later, my sister pulls up to take me home. Of course, she goes full WTF on me, and I think I was more afraid of her than Gabriel.
I didn’t realize until the next day that I had really did some boss (scary ass) shit. What was more astounding was the act of a stranger who had the name of an actual angel, Gabriel. I’m sure that God, angels, and the ancestors were looking out for me. After all, without them all boss moves wouldn’t be possible.
