That’s where I found myself… overwhelmed, sad and tired. So much so that I actually went to the doctor. I thought I was sick. I told him that I was just so tired and no matter how much I rested; I never felt like it was enough. Then he asked me about my mental emotional state. At first I was confused. Like, what do my emotions have to do with me being tired? Apparently, everything. My dear friend, restorative justice guru, Dr. Shaniqua Jones says, “Sleep won’t help if it’s your soul that’s tired.”. I don’t know if truer words have ever been spoken. My soul was tired.
I went home that day and reevaluated my… everything. I didn’t even realize how my inability to reconcile my choices against the expectations of other folks was effecting me. This is why it is so important to be dialed into yourself. You need to reflect and question yourself about yourself.
This week while Gayle King was interviewing Lisa Leslie she asked and assertively pursued a line of questioning in relationship to the allegations of rape against Kobe Bryant. The clip quickly went viral. Folks were deeply offended by the line of questioning, with Gayle prodding Leslie to acquiesce that Kobe was indeed guilty and that his legacy was tarnished. Leslie held her ground and reinforced that her friend, Kobe Bryant, would never have engaged in the behaviors that he had been accused of(The case was ultimately dropped). Folks are BIG mad at Gayle. Snoop Dog took to instagram to call Ms. King a “funky dog head bitch.” He went further to say, “Respect the family and back off before we come and get you.”
End scene.
I only added the above paragraph to provide context. Although, I am not convinced that context is actually necessary to say what I am going to say next. We could insert any name into this interaction and my interpretation and response would be the same. It’s just that some folks start acting exceptionally obtuse when they are called out because the very delicate fabric of their moral slip is showing.
This isn’t about the allegations of rape made against Kobe. This isn’t about if Gayle King was right or wrong in her line of questioning. I have opinions about both. They do not matter.
When death comes to visit, it can be so devastating. All we feel is loss. We feel that our heart bank is in the negative, but that’s just our pain. Grief is really just an overabundance of love that doesn’t have a receptacle to receive it. Think of a bottle filled with your favorite beverage poured right onto the counter… The beverage is amazingly delicious and refreshing from a glass, but when you pour it onto the counter it makes quite a mess… an inconvenient, unpretty, unpredictable, nasty mess. The drink… is amazing when it has a place to go, but when the designated vessel is missing— the drink… the love… the thing that once brought so much joy suddenly hurts like hell. That’s grief.
I choose to believe that in each loss, when someone is taken from us… something is left behind.
The new year is here. We’re over a week into 2020 and things are moving along swimmingly. For me, 2019 was a humdinger for sure and I made it… so did you. There’s victory in that. Sometimes, we get so excited about new opportunities and expectations that we neglect to give weight and respect to what we’ve already made it through.
We don’t want to keep our eyes fixed on the rearview mirror, BUT every now and again you need to take a glance. Let it show you what you made it through, the ways you conquered things that were trying to conquer you and let it all paint a picture of your accomplishments and work that still needs to be done.
To that end, I want to walk us through things we need to do to elevate ourselves in the next year and beyond. Some of these things are written specifically with me in mind and some are for you, but they’ll all work together for our good.
The holiday season is fully upon us. There’s less than one week before Christmas and I am super excited. Christmas is a family favorite. Obviously, the children love it because… GIFTS. I’ve tried to provide the giving is better than receiving narrative and they think that’s great and all, but they’re children. So yeah… YAY GIFTS!!! Hahaha!
I grew up in a house where Christmas was a big deal. I mean, multiple Christmas trees, decorations everywhere, gifts galore and the joy of the season in abundance. My mother orchestrated the production of Christmas and injected it into everyone around her. So, it still stands. The tradition is firmly planted.
Imma be honest though. Christmas stresses me out. We have four children. That’s a lot of seasonal “joy” to spread around. And it’s not even all the money. Trust— there’s a lot of it being spent. It’s the doing of it all. And I’m conflicted; right? Because I love the outcome of the doing. I even actually love the act of doing, but it is also wearing me out.
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.
Think of social media as a scrap book or family photo album. Picture your mother or grandmothers photo album on the coffee table. I don’t know about you, but I have seen those photos a hundred times and I never tire of them. They make me feel good. In every picture, the subjects can be found living, laughing and loving. In every picture I feel positive energy.
I haven’t seen a photo of a divorce decree, a police report from a domestic dispute, a custody order or a child’s failing report card in there. I’m sure the people in the photos experienced some of those things. YET… I have never had any expectation to find that information or evidence of that information in the photo album. I look at that book to see the very best of the people in it; not the worst. So, why do we look at social media any different?
Stop crucifying folks for only showing you the best of their life. That behavior only exposes the worst in you.
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 am in my feelings today. In my feelings: An indirect acknowledgement of sadness, regret or some other negative emotion... Usually inexplicable. It's in the same nonsensical family as when you're feeling "some type of way". Other people have no idea what you're talking about when you use these phrases, but you do... even if you can't explain it. That is me right now-- Simultaneously in my feelings and feeling some type of way. I want to understand this space I'm in badly so I can fix it. Is this hormones? Menopause, maybe?
Don’t get married. Don’t have kids. I said what I said. I got married and had a child in my late 20’s. I was 28. I would encourage every woman to wait at least that long. Secure education. Secure financial stability. Secure yourself. I’m a stay at home mom NOW, but when we met I was taking care of myself. So much of who we are as women is tied to how we interact with men. The ideology that if you’re not married or seriously dating, then something is wrong with you, must be killed.
There is no correlation between your value and your desire or ability to secure a man.
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 can’t sleep. It is currently 2:06am and ya girl is sitting at the kitchen table talking to you. Not that I don’t enjoy y’all, but you know. The room is the right temperature, my bed is super comfy and I’m freakin sleepy. Not to mention my handsome, lightly snoring husband is up there. Buuuuuuut so is my toddler. So there’s that.
It’s raining cats and dogs, which usually equates to excellent sleep. Not today. Today I am awake. Because this rarely happens to me— I know something is up. I’ve always been a night owl, but this ain’t that. I am not currently choosing to be awake. My mind is trespassing. It won’t stop wandering over my life.
I wasn’t really mad about the letter itself. I was initially alarmed, but not mad. I became annoyed and irritated when the rep wouldn’t own that the letter was dishonest. What I quickly understood was that even though I was right; it didn’t matter. Also, Conner didn’t have the authority, awareness or capacity to apologize and I couldn’t make him. My feelings about this ultimately inconsequential situation were really about other people I have encountered in my life who are quick to deflect responsibility and refuse to own their mistakes and shortcomings.
I allowed myself to be triggered. I became angry and frustrated because I have not healed the places in my heart where people I have been in relationship with wouldn’t be honest and own their shit.
Here’s what I know. I know that in my past I have judged people for being in a way that made me uncomfortable. “Why is she so loud? Why does she always have something to say about everything? Damn.” These people usually irked me. They had not attacked me or been negative toward me in any way. And yet— I was annoyed.
I realized that my annoyance was about me; not them. It was directly related to my insecurities… to my fear. I was uncomfortable because these women were free in a way that I was not. They had either consciously or unconsciously decided that how they showed up in the world was not for the comfort of other folks. In other words— Their behavior was for them; not me.
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?
We need to talk. I’m not even sure where I’m going today. I just need to get this out. I want to talk about acceptance in friendship. Like, really accepting people for who they are. I don’t know about you, but I find it truly inconvenient. I have always been a person who had a strong sense of right and wrong. Not in a self righteous way. I’ve done plenty of wrong. It’s just… If people would just live life the way I think they should everything would be so much easier.
I love to see people live their best life… I believe in treating people well and I expect reciprocation.
The older I’ve gotten the more rigid I’ve become about what I am willing to accept in terms of integrity in relationships. Maybe that is in part because I have so much more to give now. These years have given me so much insight on how to be for others.
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.
See, food and cooking is how I say, “I love you.” It’s how I say, “I’m glad you’re here.” Honestly, it’s one of the reasons I have such difficulty managing the goals for my health and fitness, but I digress. We can chat about that another day.
Off I went to the store the day before the party.
On my way to the store I decided the menu would include baked ziti and a tossed salad with yummy add-ins like gorgonzola cheese, green apples, craisins and such. I grabbed ground and linked Italian sausage. I quickly remembered several of my guests don’t eat pork. No worries! I’ll just grab some ground beef and more ingredients. Now, I have to make two sauces, but I got this. I headed to check out.
Oh crap!!! One of my guests can longer eat tomato anything. Side note: I grew up in a house that was always entertaining. My parents taught me that you make people feel welcomed by considering them in your choices. In other words, make sure there’s something for everyone. I decided to grab some chicken breasts and veggies to make chicken alfredo pasta too. I finished shopping. I had about 20lbs of meat, a full cart and a fully overwhelmed heart.
