By Gina B.
Iyanla Vanzant most accurately described my personality when she looked at me – with a dab of disdain – and said “You’re a head person, not a heart person.” I nodded my head in agreement, because like any analytical being, I’m nothing if not self-aware.
Her statement was both a declaration and accusation, and I really didn’t know what to do about it. I’ve always been this way.
I tend to think my way through problems, and I’d much rather rationalize than emote. I’m a direct, clear communicator with an offbeat personality. When it comes to people, I’m tentative and particular. I’m initially more of a hand-shaker than a hugger, and I enjoy making a slow acquaintance. It will take some time for me to like or love you. It’s not personal; I just need to figure you out first.
So, yes . . . Iyanla was absolutely right. I’m a head person. Heart people don’t often understand me, but I can’t really help that – not that I’d want to.
My analytical nature has served me very well in writing. And when I joined Six Brown Chicks, I wanted to write. Unlike many of my co-Chicks, I wasn’t looking for sisterhood or even friendship. I was trying to reenergize my identity as a writer, having burned myself out one year prior to receiving that fateful email from Zondra, asking if I’d like to collaborate.
Getting the show on WCIU took our partnership to a different place. Over the years I had grown accustomed to the solo mission of writing, and I suddenly found myself having to have chemistry with a group of other people, and think for the goodness of a group.
It was too much, too soon. There were too many strong, dissimilar personalities. We were bound by experience before having the chance to bond organically. Implosion was imminent.
Since the debut of our episode of “Iyanla Fix My Life,” I’ve received many comments and questions from friends, family members, and complete strangers. After I assure everyone that our episode was real and unscripted, they want to know why I was uncomfortable in the group hug, and they often demand to understand how I managed to avoid crying.
For the sake of expedience, I normally tell an abbreviated version of the truth – I’m simply not a crier.
The complete truth is way more in-depth. I confess that in those fascinating moments, I was finally focusing on getting to know and appreciate this group of women. I was more of an analytical observer than an emotional participant. Through our experience, I’m convinced that we finally got to that necessary place of respect and admiration for one another.
True to my personality, it took some time, but I both like and love each of the Brown Chicks. I appreciate them for the emotional heart people that they are, and in my case, they should trust that where the head goes, the heart will follow . . . eventually.