I went to see the Whitney Houston movie the other day and there was so much I could relate to. I’ve been a huge Whitney fan since I was a little girl. When Hurricane Katrina hit I still had a framed poster of her hanging up in my room. It was just something about her presence that mesmerized me. Yes, she could sing, but it was so much more. Her songs just connected with me in a way that helped me to get through life. I could find comfort in almost every song she sang. After all, she released her debut album on February 14, 1985, my 4th birthday. I won’t even get into the numerology and the significance of the number 4 and how it has followed me through life. I’ll just say, that this is a connection that was always meant to be.

The world knew her as Whitney Houston, but those closest to her knew her as Nippy. Throughout the movie, several people discussed her desire to just be normal. Whitney was seen as the model for the girl next door. She had been raised in the church with two loving parents and a beautiful family. She was humble and meek and had the voice of an angel. But behind the public persona, Nippy just wanted to be. A few of my friends have this joke. They’ll call me to talk about something and say, “I don’t want to talk to Kimberland. Put Kim on the phone.” Kimberland is my public face. Kimberland is the life coach, the mentor, the dream awakening influencer who always has something deep and insightful to say. Kimberland listens and gives the best advice. Kimberland thinks before she speaks and acts, always responding, never reacting. Kimberland operates in excellence, never settling for mediocrity. Kimberland is well put together and uses the King’s English with all the best vocabulary words.

I had to grow into Kimberland. Kimberland, pronounced like England. That’s how my mom taught me to explain it. Being Kimberland used to make me feel uncomfortable. First of all, my name never fit in the spaces for standardized testing. It was so long. Then people couldn’t pronounce it. They’d call me Kimberly (which means they stopped reading after they saw the L). And that is NOT my name. Others would call me Kimber-LAND. The running joke was, “I’m going to Kimber-LAND!!” But I guess in the grand scheme of things, being compared to Disney Land wasn’t the worst insult in the world. Nonetheless, to simplify things I just went with Kim. Back then, Kim meant that I wasn’t a threat to you. I didn’t make you feel uncomfortable. I was simple and basic. Nothing special to see here. You see Kimberland made and still makes some people uncomfortable because Kimberland is unique and set apart. One of my grade school friends said I was the standard in his house. His mom would say, “Is Kimberland Jackson talking in class?? Is Kimberland Jackson turning her assignments in late?? (If she only knew about those homework slips.) Why can’t you be at the top of the class like Kimberland Jackson? Why can’t you make good choices like Kimberland Jackson?”

What folks didn’t know is that I hated Kimberland Jackson. Kimberland had so much pressure. Kimberland wasn’t allowed to fail. Kimberland wasn’t allowed to have feelings. Kimberland was always happy and always did the right thing. Kimberland Jackson was viewed as someone who thought she was better than others. Y’all as far back as Kindergarten I can remember girls hating me because “I thought I was all that.” I used to take an alternate route when walking home from school because the girls in the first block of my neighborhood wanted to fight me because I was just me. I was literally minding my own business and they hated me for it. What they didn’t even know is that Kimberland had to be as close to perfect as possible in order to protect Kim from all that was going on at home. So Kim had to get off the bus and “act common.” Kim learned to curse with the best of them. That was literally my job in middle school. When girls wanted to fight my friends and I, I was the first line of defense. I’d curse them up and down, left to right, back and forth. Then if that didn’t work my friends would handle the fighting, cuz y’all know I had to get home by 4 o’clock. The problem with living this dual life is that it becomes exhausting. You spend significant amounts of time trying to protect yourself from judgement. When in real life, you’re just you.

Gratefully, I have healed Kimberland and Kim. Today I understand that no matter how hard I try I won’t ever be able to blend into the crowd. God just didn’t make me that way. And today, I’m okay with that. But still, some days, I just want to be Kim. Some days I don’t want to say anything deep or have a life impacting revelation to impart into someone’s life. Some days I just want to do nothing. Some days I don’t even want to put on pants. I’ve learned that that’s ok. It’s okay for me to detach into the world of Kim so that I’m able to effectively be Kimberland. Today, I’m free from judgement. Today Kim and Kimberland can exist in the same place.

If only Whitney had been able to do that. If only she had been able to heal Nippy and walk as Whitney at the same time, we’d still have her amazing talent here on this earth. But I thank God for the example she left behind. Whitney left this earth a few days before my 31st birthday (3+1=4). The songs that follow are by no means an exhaustive list of the one’s that I love. These are just a few of the songs that helped me through key moments of my life as she was struggling through hers.

When I was a little girl I was very shy and quiet (I know some of you are finding this hard to believe, but it’s so true. I promise). And I hear I used to cry a lot. From what I understand, I used to keep a tear on the brink, ready to roll out at any time. I’m not sure why I was so sad (or maybe I was just always sensitive), but I’ve been told by many in my family that I was. I was always a people watcher, opting to observe, rather than engage. That has followed me throughout my life. I just feel like everyone isn’t worth my words and energy. ((shoulder shrug)) I prefer to connect with people on a deeper level that will allow me to create a genuine relationship. I always had a way of sensing when others’ needed a friend or a smile. Maybe because I wanted them to see that I needed a friend or a smile. I had a fascination with matters of the heart. I was always drawn to love songs. Though I was definitely too young to understand the nuances, I could feel the emotions that went into the creation of the songs. I remember singing Minnie Riperton, “Loving You” at the top of my lungs. It was something about those high notes that just spoke to me. But back to Whitney.

My very first favorite Whitney song as a young child and to this day is “The Greatest Love of All.” I would sing it everywhere. I sang it in talent shows. I sang it in the car. I sang it in the house. I sang it in my grandmother’s backyard. I sang it on top of tables armed with my hair brush microphone. LOL. I still remember being kicked out of the house because I wouldn’t stop singing. I would hear the song and immediately go into a performance. ((sigh)) I would have made Whitney so proud. I took every single word to heart and they spoke so clearly to me.

Even though I was only about 5 or 6 years old, there was something about the message that drew me in. I could relate to the message of hope and resilience. Even at that young age I realized that I had to find love within myself to be able to make it. I understood, even then, that I had to depend on me no matter what happened on the outside. No matter what mean words were spoken to me or how empty I felt, that I could keep my dignity. No one could take that away from me. No matter how hard they tried. And how they have tried. That lesson has followed me through life as I’ve had to fight to love myself through it all.

Dancing is my escape from the world. I started dancing when I was 3 years old. Y’all I was cute as a button. I wish I had the pictures to show you, but Katrina swallowed them up. I was trained in ballet, jazz, and tap. I had no problems waking up on Saturday mornings to get ready to go to Deirdre’s School of Dance. My routine was to get dressed, eat breakfast, watch Pee Wee’s Playhouse and Whitney Houston’s “I Wanna Dance with Somebody.” That song always put me into the right mood. She looked so happy and free. I wanted that.

It’s something about dancing that transports you to a different world. It allows you to escape from the present and go to a place where you have control. You’re able to connect on a deeper level with your body and emotions. Dancing is medicine and meditation all at the same time. Though I left dancing school once my brother was born, it stayed in my heart. I continued to dance throughout my childhood. Being from New Orleans, there is always a song and dance in our hearts. Whether it be second line dancing or twerking to a bounce beat, we never stop moving. In high school, I marched in parades and danced to entertain the Mardi Gras crowds. In college, I connected with African dance. The natural rhythms of the drums and the instinctive movements allowed me to connect to the strength my ancestors left for me as they found a way to survive in a country that hated them. I also danced on the half-time dance team in college. That experience allowed me to connect to my body in a way that I never had. The challenge of choreography and execution left me so fulfilled as we left it all out on the floor each and every game. If you were ever looking for me a a party or at a club, you could bet I was on the dance floor. Not to mention, it’s free exercise. As I entered adulthood, dancing became a way to keep me sane. I danced with a semi-professional dance company for a while. It was therapy for me. It brought out emotions that I left buried deep inside. Though I no longer dance on stages, it is my go to stress reliever. Dance is life.