What it means to be ‘okay’

I made an article about a week or so ago in jest of the phrase ‘I’m okay’ because it’s a common response that’s generic enough to not be questioned fot deviating any type of societal norm. This time, I actually wanted to talk about what it might look/mean to be okay and what that really feels like. I’ve  felt it in spurts and being okay is one of the best emotional states I’ve ever experienced, aside from happiness. It’s a privelage, really it is.

What it looks like:

I don’t mean physical characteristics or anything like that, I mean what’s around us: our enviornment. Does it contain at least one or two people that act as a support net or a person to share our problems with? Do we have a place we call home that contains our basic necessities? Is that place consistent and does it give us a sense of security and balance?

Now, this looks different for many people. You could have one of these things and be fine. You could have none of these things and be 100% okay, but, even if you have nothing you have something. For those who seek and worship a higher power, that is your house, shelter, family, friends, and balance. It’s just not as much of an outward representation of it. Things unseen are only characterized by symbols, words, and prayer of some sort that have to come from the outside to get in.

See, ‘okay’ to most people I know is dependant on money (I’m a student, so to me, that’s what 95% of people around me, including myself, worry about.) It’s normal to lean on this and assume it’s the root of all happiness, but I’ve experienced plenty of times where I had no money and I was ‘okay’. I had a best friend to rely on, hobbies of my own to support my creativity, and a pen and paper always waiting for me. My best friend was/is my support net, my creativity was/is my necessity and constant, and my pen and paper was/is my home. All of those things made me feel ‘okay’ and still do, two out of the three of them just aren’t as available due to . . .well. . .time constraint.

What it feels like:

Feeling okay . . . .feels so good. Feeling okay, for me, is huge. It’s not the same as happiness. Happiness is a moment and is perpetual dependant on the day/month/year. ‘Okay’ is a greater state of being that means so much more than the blah English word and definition it was given. Being happy can be an accessory to being okay, but it doesn’t outshine it completely. Being okay feels secure, and warm, and content. It feels nurtured and fed mentally, spiritually, emotionally, and physically. It’s waking up and knowing that the person you want to wake up to is there, whether awake or asleep. It’s feeling warm water come out of the faucet and not cold water. It’s feeling comfortable with yourself. It’s being free to do what you want in a space of time that actually works. It’s not feeling pressured, forced, broken, or all of the above. It’s being able to go outside and feeling the days optimism implode in your face. It’s knowing that anything is possible and that you are capable of all things, regardless of the out come. It’s feeling that whatever higher power you worship is behind you with each step you take. It’s being able to eat and sleep and dream and repeat. It’s feeling great about every outcome.

This state is difficult to obtain because there are so many factors that make it short lived. I have a tendency to forget why/how I managed to stay there and only remember within the time I’m experiencing it. I’ve seen people with it that never let it go. I’m afraid to be happy/stable, so I don’t allow myself to keep it as long. I don’t know if you, the reader, have experienced that state or have maintained it consistenly, but I you have I applaud you because it’s about the equivalent to walking on water for me.

This is just a thought I wanted to share. If you have comments about this or want to share perspective on this, do that please. I love personal opinions and perspectives even if they’re harsh and make me huddle in a corner. I’m about as open as an empty jar. Please spill whatever you have in, it’s very much appreciated. 



For me, they’re like unicorns, except when I end up somewhere that already seems like narnia, then their existence makes sense. I think I’m the type of open minded person that assumes everyone is just as open minded. I grew up in a suburb, and even though the school demographic always seemed to show that white was dominant, I always found that the schools I hopped to had a diverse population of people, ethnic background and all. So, personally, I never witnessed a large amount of prejudice because it just seemed too ridiculous and the schools I attended never stood for it. Also, my friends were a mix of different things, so it was hard to give an ignorant back handed comment without a sense of understanding or sympathy for what certain slurs or words felt like or meant.

Granted, I might have just chosen a group of people that kept me from seeing how other minorities or races were treated, but it never got to me. Again, I really never felt the sting or experience of racism unless it was pointed out to me or I when I was faced with it in my first year of college. Other than that, I see the world through a colorless lense and I assume I’m seen just the same. The reason I bring up this topic, which deviates from my original one about dating app stages (was supposed to be funny), is because I was actually a tiny bit shocked. The last time I was called the ‘n’ word was when I was 10, and back then I didn’t know what it meant, so I laughed. Now . . .I kind of cringe. . .

Here’s what happened: I was on the app that is Tinder and I was swiping my little heart out, kind of making a cute game of it as I let my little sisters choose the suitors that Tinder had to offer since we were kind of bored. I wander off and happen to match with this random guy. I can’t make a screen shot of the conversation because I  unmatched him after the encounter and I think if I could, I wouldn’t. One because it’s kind of rude to display something like that without his permission and it’s simply common curtousy. I want to be treated with respect and with/without the conversation thread, I would uphold the same right. Please take my word for it, because that’s really all I can ask:

Him: let’s start this friendship off by saying something we hate!

Me: Fruit flies. . . .they just. . .lay eggs everywhere. . .

-your turn O.O

Him:  Niggers

Me: *crickets* everyone’s entitled, I guess. . . .

My reaction thoughts: He didn’t answer for awhile, but it kind of made my heart stop a little. I know why, but I think it’s scary to think about it because, even though he might not be capable of much, I imagine that he’s part of that population of people that don’t necessarily want me to exist. That population becomes a little more apparent to me even with small things like this. I also realized his closed mindedness shouldn’t scare me because no matter what color I am, I’m DiAnre. Being black isn’t really on my list of things to worry about when re-inventing myself, unless God is willing to re-open my genetic color palette and make my skin lighter. I’m one of those people who believe that inside and outside I was supposed to be everything I am today, so why should that be a problem for me or anyone else?

Back to conversation:

Him: (says something about going back to work because I’m a slave (I’m so good at paraphrasing. . .))

Me: *sigh* you guys seem like unicorns to me sometimes. Thank you for reminding me people like you still exist. Have a wonderful day 🙂

-unmatches. . .-

*ehem* hence unicorn reference. . . .

So, I guess this post is more for me since I had such a weird, semi-joulted reaction to it. I’m just amazed that some people still haven’t gotten over things like that. We live in a world with so many cool people, yet we have racism and homophobia, and just . . .mean people. My attempt to give a significant word on this issue sounds like it’s from a five year old, but it’s so stupid. People, no matter where they’re from or what they choose, are amazing creatures. Choosing to have a narrow mindset and let hate invade your mind space are missing out on so many beautiful personalities. Just as an example, although black people are a minority, there are a lot of us. Imagine how much of the world you’re cutting off because of your past ancestry’s mind set? Imagine if I decided to be racist against white people because of what they did to my ancestors??. . . . .I’d have to get rid of a lot of friends at that point. I would be cutting off the majority of the U.S population. . .makes dating choices kind of slim in my area as well.

I like to sympathize with the opposition always, but what am I supposed to say. . .?:

I’m sorry for being born a very dark shade of brown that really just represents the color that my parents genes came up with when they made me, which is also representative of where their genes originated (Africa, most likely). My race is not a reflection of who I am, what I eat, what I do, or how I do things. The ‘n’ word may hold many negative connotations for  you and my group of people, but we are not defined by the stereotypes associated with it,  nor can I say I am as an individual. I can’t say my ancestors weren’t slaves. . .they were, but I’m not because of the milestones and struggle they went through to get me to live in the normalcy I live in now. It’s clear that despite that hard work people like you still exist, but I’m not organizing a group to harass/lynch you any time soon, so obviously I can deal with you on some level as long as we’re simply coexisting. Why can’t you?

 That’s all I would have to say. How do you express sympathy for someone that isn’t making sense. . .To me, racism is that wild card you play when you can’t make a simple, slightly intelligent opinion of your own. Saying ‘I hate *insert racial slur*, that’s why Pauleen is so ugly to me’ sounds way more dumb than saying ‘Pauleen’s into stuff that I’m not into and she’s too short for my taste. I’m not attracted to Pauleen. . .’ That example was kind of vague, but you get the point.
Why not choose to see outside the hate and make an effort to see the world as a masterpiece rather than paying attention to the individual colors on the canvas? Nobody likes the guy that’s standing all close to that one famous Picasso being like ‘this piece would be so much better without that mustard yellow in the corner. It’s just not tasteful.’ . . . .WHO CARES ABOUT THE MUSTARD FREAKIN’ YELLOW???? . . .what happened to just taking in the painting from a wholistic perspective and being cool with that? Why focus on race when  you haven’t really taken time to focus on the amazing collage that is the world and who populates it?

This was me venting both a frustration and fear. I kind of wish racist people weren’t a thing, but they are. I experienced a tiny microscopic slice today and may experience worse later in life. The question is whether to seek change or get used to it. The first option’s kind of my favorite, so I’ll go with that one. I know, for some, this may seem like an inflated reaction to one person’s words, and I’ll admit that I’m a sensitive person at best sometimes. I just felt like this was a decent place to showcase my feelings and ideals. Thanks for reading.