The Cost and Consequence of Being Anointed in New York
Isolation, surveillance, and being misunderstood are high costs to pay when you defy odds in the world’s largest shark den.
This is part two of a collection of essays where I explore the pathos of friendship among Black women. I get more personal than ever on my newsletter. As we move into 2024, my wish is that we have the courage to release people who never belonged beyond the gates, inside our private, sacred world.
I once had a guest in my home. We were former colleagues and she was evolving into someone I felt confident to call a friend. She wanted to see my new condo I moved into on the Hudson waterfront. I gave her a tour of the grounds and we settled in my place where I made cocktails for us. She told me she needed to use my bathroom so I showed her the way. By the time she returned to my living area, the views of the Manhattan skyline lit the river like a Christmas tree. It’s a sight I never take for granted after nearly five years living in homes on the New York City waterfront. So I intimately understood when she excitingly pulled out her iPhone and started to snap photos. While she finished taking photos of the views, I refreshed our drinks in my kitchen.
As we retreated to my sitting area, I watched as she swiped along her photo album proudly viewing the stunning shots she captured until I saw more photos of my home. Evidenced by the embarrassed look on her face, they were photos I wasn’t supposed to see. I saw close shots of my bathroom in varied angles: my vanity area, my tub, my rugs, and my collection of skincare and makeup product. It must of have been at least ten to fifteen photos. “Oh my God, Geneva! You weren’t supposed to see this!” She quickly stored her phone away in her work bag. She was humiliated and I could tell. “I just love your place so much and I wanted to use these photos for my vision board”, she assured me. I quickly laughed off her humiliation, and told her the photos were perfectly fine.
Later after I walked her to my door and gave her a warm goodbye hug, the secret photos started to feel bizarre to me. I wondered to myself why she simply didn’t ask me if she could take photos.