She’s growing and maturing. My selfish girl who is usually, always only thinking of her 13 year old self is thinking of us all. She knows having the elves brings joy to our entire family. She understand that I’m really trying and I want this experience for them, even if it is coming late. She knows her momma is working extra hard to develop a legacy that will help children for generations. She knows I’m burning the candle at both ends. She knows that I have more on my plate than I can handle. She knows that some things will go undone as a result.
Usually the things that go undone are laundry and home cooked meals, but right now the elves seem to be the thing I couldn’t maintain. Somehow, she understands the significance of the elves to our family; even if she doesn’t quite understand what it means to me to have her help me in this way.
As moms, we sometimes beat ourselves up for being distracted and disconnected. We question our impact and influence as mothers when our children are rude, selfish or inconsiderate. We beat ourselves up for not being enough for our children… for not doing enough or giving them enough. This whole situation reminded me that I am enough at all times— even when I am distracted, disconnected and forgetful.
Today, I am so aware of people who are in a state of missing. I’m thinking of people who are dealing with disappointment, loss and grief.
To be clear, there are many types of loss and grief with varying degrees, swinging like a wrecking ball on a pendulum.
And death isn’t the only pathway to grief. Grief can come from an anticipated loss. When you know that while you still presently have something, you will lose it imminently.
Consider folks who are in the process of divorce, a friendship that is on the rocks, abortion, layoffs, illness that causes loss of body function or lifestyle. Someone just found out their baby no longer has a heartbeat. Someone else has a home in foreclosure or found out their parent has 4 weeks to live. In the last month, I have heard of at least four different missing women.
I am so happy to be writing today. Describing the last almost three months as difficult would be a major understatement . I have wanted to write— to tell you what my family and I have been facing. I have wanted to write about the truth of walking my child through a traumatic experience. I have wanted to share the intimate details of a helpless mother… the heartache of watching the best parts of you become the darkest part of you.
But this is my safe space… my joy.
This is a blog read by many people and yet it still feels so intimate to me. I didn’t want to tarnish it by discussing an experience I haven’t healed from. I didn’t want to transfer these negative emotions. I’ve been so angry and sad and angry and enraged.
I thought she just needed to warm up to the new school year. We were in a new grade, in a new building. Transitions can be challenging. I reasoned that anyone might need a few days to settle in. Then, things quickly escalated. She didn’t want to go to school. The final straw was when I had to go pick her up 2 days in a row because the office called me with her bawling in the background.
Up until that point I thought she was having a little separation anxiety. Which would have been standard. But, it wasn’t that she was crying. It was the way she was crying. The desperation and fear. The way she clung to me let me know that something was very wrong. This was more than separation anxiety. My girl… my effervescent star was losing her shine.
I don’t like belaboring anything. I work hard, in fact, not to do it because it’s rooted in ego; not understanding… annnnd I don’t like it done to me. I am a person who will travel to a far away land in my mind if someone keeps saying the same thing repeatedly after I’ve demonstrated understanding. However, there is a distinct difference between belaboring and reminding or reinforcing.
*Stick with me. This isn’t a thesis.
Belaboring speaks to continued talking for the purpose of self-aggrandisement after the point is made and understood. It’s for the speaker. Reminding and reinforcing speaks to bridging the gap between knowing, understanding and execution. It’s for the recipient. Belaboring is punishment. Reminding and reinforcing are tools of continued learning.
I said all that to say, personal evolution is hard AF, and not enough people understand this.
The world would lead you to believe that it is impossible for women to share in loving, productive, symbiotic relationships. I think this is particularly true in portrayals of Black women, buuuuuut it’s fair to say that women of all races get a bad rap for how they interact with each other.
Blame misogyny. Blame patriarchy. Blame media.
For me, I think it is important to cast out these negative and false accounts regarding relationships between women. These accounts that portray us as overemotional, drama filled and in constant competition. I won't lie, I have had a bad interaction or two. However, over the course of my life it is my relationships with other women that have lifted me up and held me down. It is my relationships with women that have provided covering and protection.
I returned to my thoughts from the funeral I attended days before. Why are we more compelled to spend time celebrating a persons shell rather than the actual living person? How are we showing up in the lives of people we say we love while they are still living?
I guess I just want us all to think about the cost of being too busy. Too busy for a phone call, too busy to visit, too busy to have lunch, too busy to sit a while longer, too busy, too busy, too busy…
KD Bowe, an Atlanta radio personality made a Facebook post, on 1.24.13 following the death of his mother. I will never forget his words. It reads in part:
“At this stage in my life, I just stay busy. The ironic thing is I did in death what I could never seem to find time to do in life … I made time to come home for a week.”
I imagine his mom would have preferred he come home for a week while she wasn’t laying in a casket… he clearly does too. This is no indictment on KD Bowe. No shame. No guilt. He is living his choices. Still, it begs the question…
Why do we make time for dead people and excuses for the living?
Imagine a female president or vice-president—Not just on television, but in real life. I mean, I love the idea of women knocking over walls and breaking glass ceilings. I just don’t want it at the expense of someone standing on my head.
The entire cast is stellar, but I absolutely do have my favorite characters. Randall and Beth, otherwise known as R&B, are my dream characters. I see my husband and I in both of them. And isn’t referring to them as R&B, i.e. Rhythm and Blues, totally appropriate? Yesssss. Because sometimes marriage is all Ain’t Nobody(Chaka Khan) and other times it’s more End of the Road(Boys II Men). You feel me??
The last few weeks have almost exclusively focused on Randall and Beth. I’ve had some loving, harsh words for Randall recently. I love him SO much, but bruh has been T R Y I N G it. I’ll admit I lost faith in faith in him. I wasn’t sure his love for Beth was greater than his need to be seen and valued by the masses. His abandonment issues have always left him striving for worthiness outside of himself.
I’m so happy I was wrong. The sigh that escaped my body was definitely audible when I realized the two would find their way back to each other. They found the door. Even as a fictional couple, I understand the impact of authentic representation.
Then, something broke in me as I approached my 40’s. I remember telling a dear friend, “I just feel so open.” I didn’t even understand the extent to which I was open and how my life would change as a result. I just felt the opening so strongly. And it wasn’t that I didn’t care what other people wanted or thought. It was more that what I wanted and thought was finally my priority. It was as if everything I was suppressing refused to remain submerged. My heart and mind insisted on BEING in the way God initially created me. I remembered who I was and I refused to abandon her again.
Growing up Black is a be seen and not heard kind of existence. In my experience, to find a Black child with the authority to fully BE, in the presence of adults is the exception; not the rule. Control, rules, excellence and respectability are major components of the Black child rearing experience. Black children need to grow up with their shit together. This didn’t happen in a vacuum. It’s a direct result of slavery, Jim Crow, the Civil Rights Era and a post racial America *side eye*. The privilege of speaking about anything at anytime was snatched from us and whipped out of us on slave ships, auction blocks, in the fields and in the big house.
Saying the “wrong” thing or being at the “wrong” place at that time could get an adult or even a child, literally killed— It still can. We have too many examples. Being seen and not heard is not a simplified way to parent; it’s a safety mechanism. Part of the Black experience is simply trying to keep your children alive in a way that it isn’t true for other races. The same is true of how we are steered towards career choices. Careers that are perceived as frivolous, i.e. dancer, artist or musician are not routinely supported.
This isn’t the land of make believe and you don’t have the ability to see through walls or leap over buildings in a single bound no matter what your children, spouse, or other people in your life think. I know. I know. The idea of being able to do anything at any time sounds fascinating and productive. Other people believing you can do anything, at any time, regardless of circumstances makes you feel important and needed. Look at how proud they are of me doing everything under the sun. Look at your chest all puffed up with the “S” stamp. You can’t get enough of the accolades. You feel amped. You feel invincible. Thing is…. You’re not.
You are not invincible.
You cannot do anything at any time regardless of circumstance. You know who can? God. You, my friend, are not God. I can tell you who you will be if you keep this charade up though. Resentful. Yep. Resentful. And who wants to wear resentment as a badge of honor?
I am often looking for easily executable ways for all of us to be better people. I believe most folks don’t want to be annoying, selfish, inconsiderate individuals. I’m a glass full kind of woman. So, I choose to believe these two things: 1. People don’t know how inappropriate their behavior is. 2. People know their behavior is inappropriate they just don’t have better choices at their immediate disposal. People need compassion and hope and wonderful blogs with insightful, funny, but applicable life hacks. Not to fear! Stephanie is here!!!
I have worked in corporate America. I have worked in inner city classrooms of Chicago. Being a SAHM is still without question the hardest work I have ever done. This is in part because being a parent is more difficult than anyone lets on. My understanding of parenthood was incomplete… at times I think it still is. Being a stay at home mom is a 24/7 endeavor. From the time I wake up until I close my eyes, I am meeting the needs of someone who is not me.
Please don’t consider this a declaration of my unhappiness or complaint. On the contrary, being a stay at home mom is a gift. But it requires compartmentalization and understanding. There have been many days in this social political climate that I was grateful I didn’t have to go to work. Hell, sometimes I don’t even go to the grocery store because I don’t want to see the world. So, I know I would dread going to the office.
This isn’t complaining. This is me, sharing pertinent information. Also… listen carefully, I am not ignoring or minimizing the plight of working mothers. Most of them do what I do while working outside the home full time. For me, what I noticed and miss most was the drive to and from work. You know? Those small periods of time when I was alone to make uninterrupted phone calls or listen to music that is inappropriate for children who can talk. #JudgeYourOwnSelf
I’m a sunshine girl. The sun makes me feel invigorated. It makes anything that I am doing so much better. It’s funny because as much as I love the actual sun; I am a huge proponent of carrying your sunshine on the inside. I determine my mood; not the weather. I am the thermostat.
Still, I’m not feeling it today. Which proves the journey of positive thinking and practice is ongoing.
Reflection helps me to be more intentionally empathetic. As an individual who isn’t living with anxiety, depression or grief, but who still feels”UGH!” During repeated overcast days; how do folks who regularly live with these negative emotions feel?
It’s time for some self-reflection. Hold up the mirror and hold that person accountable for the negative emotions felt when other people experience happiness you think belongs to you. The real problem might be that you spend too much time watching the moves of others when you should be making your own.
Someone is having a difficult time in their marriage right now. You are feeling angry, sad and resentful. You’re wondering if you made a mistake. Especially if you’re a newlywed. You’re sitting in your car or half working at your job trying to figure out how you arrived in your present space. Contemplating if it’s even worth the effort. You’re more like roommates than husband and wife maybe worse because you barely even speak to each other. The “D” word keeps coming up and you wonder if one day you’re gonna come home to find your mate has given up first.
Right now your heart is breaking more and more with thoughts regarding your expectations for your marriage and the reality of your marriage. When you were dating, your spouse was the best thing since sliced bread. Now he's just moldy yeast because even the best bread doesn’t stay fresh forever.
Isn’t this what often happens between women? Particularly in the workplace. Men pulling strings that shouldn’t exist. As we often say…. It is what it is. I guess I can get with Angela deciding, initially not to work with Nuri. *slight eye roll. The truth is— Angela hit her #ChooseYou dougie on Nuri and I didn’t like it. Her behavior indicated that she was the most beautiful, powerful, worthy person she knows. We MUST fight the urge to begrudge women this right because it does not fall in line with what we believe we deserve. There is enough of everything we desire for all of us. You might just have to wait your turn.
I’m serious. Call me old fashioned or whatever. In the new age of the “pick me” woman who’s willing to pay a man’s rent and leave the tip and wash her own car to prove that she’s worthy… be the opposite. Maybe I’m what’s wrong with women today. Perhaps, I have been brainwashed by misogyny and patriarchy. If you are not independently wealthy or are unemployed; you cannot afford to date. How can you even find the time? Where I’m from even when you don’t have a job you have a job… looking for a job. My parents taught me this as a young woman. I’m sure they impressed it upon my brother even harder because he's a man. For the record, I don’t think broke women should date either. It places you in a place of vulnerability where you do not belong. FACT.
To be clear, social media doesn’t really make anyone hate their life. You hate your life because you hate your life. You continue to make the same choices, revisit the same places, roll around with the same individual and wonder why nothing in your life is different. I believe Einstein had words to say about that kind of behavior. He called it insanity. Einstein was correct. Imagine that. Unfortunately, you haven’t heard the wise words of the late great Einstein. So, you stay on the ferris wheel. Professing to hate every minute of it. Screaming to get off. Yet, never removing your safety belt. Never standing. Never being miserable enough to stop the revolutions.
