Making Room For What's Next

“We have to let go of the life we have planned…to accept the one that is waiting for us. - Joseph Campbell”

For the past 2 weeks, I’ve been taking things home from work. Clearing up the clutter, bringing home keepsakes and de-personalizing my work space. For the past 6 months or so, we’ve all been walking on eggshells since we got the news that layoffs might be on the table before July 1st. An increase in the “endowment” tax could threaten the livelihoods of many. Now, months later, it’s a definite. Some of us won’t make it to the new fiscal year’s payroll. As an HR professional, this is a norm I have grown accustomed to. For the first time since I started working almost 30 years ago, I face an uncertain future and days away from possibly finding out my fate.

I’ve always played it safe. Always had a new job lined up before the old one either ended or no longer served its purpose. Always had a plan A, B and C. Could read the writing on the wall before things got to be unbearable. Before decisions about my career had to be made for me. Have never been on the other end of a layoff and have always landed well. Whichever news I get this week is sure to shift the trajectory of my life. For the first time, I feel a calm and ease that I have never felt before. I’m open to what’s to come and have been preparing for the worst.

My office-mate thinks I’m crazy because of my premature packing up of my things. After all, she is convinced of my value on the team and swears up and down that I am overreacting. I’ve seen too many people ushered out the door, barely being able to fit all of the trinkets they’ve amassed over the span of their careers into one box. One of the many reasons why my workspaces never look too lived in. When the day comes for me to leave a place, I want all of my things to be able to fit in my backpack. As I looked over at my colleague’s desk, she admitted to having accumulated 15 years worth of stuff and couldn’t imagine having to pack it all up. Deep down, she has convinced herself her position is “safe”. Not to be a negative nelly, I’m just a realist. Part of my role is I identify trends in the workforce. We are living in unprecedented times. No longer can we anticipate what might happen. Gone are the days where you can count on staying at one company for 30+ years or until you retire.

You see, in this climate we’re in, your value to an organization may not be enough to save your job. We are all numbers at the end of the day. Justified or not, the “powers” that be will find enough of a reason to get rid of you to save themselves and their bottom line. We see this time and time again in the news whenever a company announces rounds of layoffs. It’s jarring seeing the numbers of jobs being eliminated on a monthly basis, sometimes in the 10s of thousands. It elicits fear in most of us in the workforce. When the news of our impending cuts was first announced, I told myself I would not let fear dictate my next move. Every opportunity I explored had to be aligned with my purpose and had to honor the next phase of my career and life.

I’ve been in a state of burnout off and on for a while now, which is not sustainable long-term. The messaging that keeps being communicated is “you think it’s bad now, it’s going to get worse than this” because we are going to be asked to do more with much less. I’m tired of holding my breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop. I’ve started to take action. Back to why I’ve been slowly clearing off my desk. I believe in manifesting new opportunities by living “as if”. Clearing any kind of clutter (be it mental, emotional or physical) makes room for newness and for better to come along. In order to continue growing, receiving, learning, and accepting new experiences, we have to be willing to let go of what we’re holding onto. Letting go of what no longer serves us. Anytime I have let go, I’ve received better, tenfold. That’s in every aspect of life.

I’ve been blessed to have some amazing people in my life who inspire me, push me to higher heights and believe in me. My father is one of those people. I remember when I first shared the news of what was happening at work and he told me and keeps telling me that everything is going to be alright. There’s a peace and calm that washes over me. Most times since then, he always has a reassuring word for me, a pick me up that brightens up my day. A constant reminder that I will be okay. Yesterday, he shared that he was in my shoes when he was my age. When I think back, I remember him and my mom constantly pivoting and reinventing themselves. I don’t remember seeing fear in them then. Instead, there was an unshakeable determination and drive. A will to succeed. Right then I realize I am in my version of a “Heroes Journey”, which started 11+ years ago and continues. I find myself asking what new lesson am I meant to learn at this stage of my life.

Don’t Let Life Harden You

For the Turkey Day holiday, I decided to take a detour while on my way to visit family and stopped in Hartford, Connecticut for a few days. Anyone who is familiar with the trek from Philly to New England, knows that you essentially spend most of your commute in that state. I don’t think I’ve done less than three hours driving through Connecticut, which makes absolutely no sense to me. I dread driving home because of that state. When you’re driving alone, with nothing but a radio, some tunes or a long-form podcast to keep you entertained, that doesn’t always cut it. So I figured this time, I would take a break for a few days and hunker down in the state that has caused me so much frustration.

I spent two restful nights in a cute little boutique hotel in downtown Hartford. The night I arrived, I was met with somewhat bustling streets. When I got to my hotel and talked to the front desk agent, she mentioned that there was a UConn game that night. Otherwise, weekends are pretty quiet there. After freshening up in my room to head out for a late dinner, I saw what she was referring to. There was hardly anyone outside. I encountered a few folks who seemed to be on the wrong side of a bender. It hurt to see because it was another reminder of how much drug addiction and/or untreated mental illness is ravaging our cities and towns. After indulging in a Puerto Rican/Asian/Italian fusion dinner at a newly opened restaurant, I sauntered back to my hotel room. My body was calling for rest.

Nowadays, I don’t want to be one of those tourists who travel with a long itinerary of sites to see and things to do in order to feel like I accomplished something on a trip. Why is it that we get so hung up on having to be productive, even during vacations or trips? Those are times that should be spent resting, reflecting on life and relishing in the art of doing nothing. When I was planning the trip to CT, I was thinking maybe I should check out some museums or do a walking tour. I quickly shot those thoughts down because the idea overextending myself stressed me out. When I’m home in the hustle and bustle of the city, working long days and nights and commuting for hours on end, my rest is limited. This time, I refused to make this trip be an extension of what I’m constantly doing to myself: depriving myself of much needed rest, sleep and decompressing.

My two days in CT were spent exploring my hotel, getting in some long overdue much-needed workouts that I’ve been neglecting for weeks, exploring nearby eateries and continuing my binge of Scandal (this is like my 10th rewatch of that series). I relished in not being “on”. Any writing or work I did revolved around me, personally. I refused to think about work. I also wanted to use that time to prepare myself mentally for the remaining trek home and for dealing with family. It was time well spent. When I finally hit the road to continue on my drive to New England, I had less than two hours to go. When I finally arrived, I felt rested and rejuvenated.

Despite the invites to join folks at their family gatherings, I decided I wanted to be home with my immediate family. So my dad, my youngest sister, and my nephews were who I spent the bulk of my time with. Lately, my social battery has been depleted. Ever feel like you are alone in a sea of people sometimes? Being fearful of people seeing and catching a glimpse of your sadness? I have been avoiding large gatherings for a while. Not because I don’t like or enjoy the time spent with friends and family, but because of the emotional labor it takes to entertain and to give others a worthwhile experience of you. Sometimes, I just prefer to wallow, sit in a corner somewhere in peace and just be.

It’s been hard this past year since my mom passed. Harder after 2 of my friends also passed this year. Relationships and people around me have changed. I definitely know I’ve changed. I’ve been in a constant state of grieving. I find myself trying to give life meaning and not let despair fully take over. Yes, I want to enjoy life. I want to experience joy, love and peace. Sometimes, it’s hard to stay positive, especially with this current climate that we’re in. After my sit down in CT, I realized I’ve been in survival mode for some years now. Having to travel back-and-forth for the past several years when my mom was alive and ill took a lot out of me. When she passed, the levels of grief engulfed me at times and still do. I realized when she was alive, I was grieving the life she should’ve had. After she passed, I’ve been grieving the life I’ll never get to have with her. So holidays hit different. They are no longer festive. She was the reason the whole family and extended family would come together. The more sick she became, it seemed like celebration wasn’t appropriate. She gave celebrations and holidays meaning. In her absence, there is a void.

My interactions with the few family members I got to spend time with reminded me that I can’t forget about what matters. My mom isn’t here and she’s not coming back. Doesn’t mean I stop living. I’m trying to remember that life does go on and that you’re going to encounter trials and tribulations but that doesn’t mean you should allow those things to change who you are at your core in a negative way. I remember this light I used to have, a bright one that has dimmed and has been dimmed for a while. I woke up today wanting that light back and thinking of ways to get it back. I don’t want this to be another act I have to put on. I don’t want joy to be performative. I want it to feel real.

I feel like I’m fighting to crawl out of the hole I’ve been residing in, trying to get back to enjoying life. Being with my family, seeing my father struggle to find a new normal and keep busy motivates me to not stay in my own rut. I’m also trying to remember that other people around me are also struggling. I’ve been trying to be more intentional with how I show up in life. I’m trying not to dwell on what could’ve been and instead focus on what is.

I’m holding onto that and appreciate where I am in the present. My sense of wonder is coming back. Earlier in the year, I found solace in taking monthly cooking classes and sewing classes. Things that my mother reveled in. Despite all of the things she juggled (being a mom, wife, business owner and primary caretaker for all of her family) she still found time to partake in those little things that brought her joy. That’s what I say to myself whenever I start to get down and stressed out. Time to reassess what I’m prioritizing. Time to get back to what matters. The cooking and sewing classes made me feel closer to her. Life is going to continue to present challenges, but what makes us who we are is how we show up and how we face those challenges head on. Do we run away and cower in a corner? We’re allowed grace and space to do what brings us comfort. But then what?

The Greatest Heartbreak

It has taken me close to 8 months to say anything, partly because I’ve had a hard time accepting the reality of it all, despite the finality of what happened. I haven’t been able to find the words without waterworks ensuing. Everything in my life came to a screeching halt last Fall. It all started with a missed call. A missed call on a Sunday from my youngest sibling. It was so early and so unlike her to call at that time of day that I dreaded what would be on the other end of that call when I finally reached her. I have gotten many calls like it prior, alerting me that my mother had to either go to the hospital because of another health crisis or “episode”. They happened so regularly that it was my routine to rush back home almost monthly for the past several years, just to lay eyes on her, verify she was alright and make the several hundred mile trek back to Philly. I was always grateful that I had the opportunity to do so. So many people didn’t get the chance. I was always on bended knee, thanking the lord for sparing her every time and covering her. Allowing her to see another day.

I couldn’t reach my sister but eventually heard from another relative that was at my family home, over 300 miles away: “You’re mother is gone”. As soon as the words left her mouth it was as if something inside me broke. I broke open into a million pieces and continued to break. I am still breaking. I can’t further describe what happened next. All I remember was I was in Philly one moment and by the evening, was back in my family home, searching for answers. After all, I had seen my mother almost 3 weeks prior. She was starting to look like she was on the mend and embracing her new normal. She had new routines, new procedures she had to adhere to and was seeming more resilient. Receiving this news rocked me to my core but still didn’t feel real. I had just seen her and she was starting to look like her usual self.

I couldn’t believe it and had to see for myself. I had spoken to her a couple of days prior. I now found myself replaying our last conversation over and other in my mind, looking for clues that maybe she knew what was coming. There was an urgency in her voice I had never heard before. She wasn’t saying anything out of the ordinary but it was the emphasis she was placing on certain things that I still, up until now, try to decipher. I remember arriving at my parents home and feeling the emptiness of it. Once her pride and joy, her masterpiece, felt like a shell. The warmth of her presence was gone. There were plenty of people in and out of there, which only added to its emptiness. Since she had been taken away before I arrived, it didn’t feel real. Once I saw my father, I knew. Then I saw my youngest sister and knew. Still, I couldn’t accept it. Before I got the chance to settle in, I had to go into full funeral-planning mode. No time to really grieve, I had to carry my dad into the most devastating time of his life.

I will spare you the details of all that transpired between the day she passed and the funeral (almost 2 weeks apart). I had went home, returned to Philly for a few days and returned again. I’ll spare you because I got a glimpse into the dark side of “family” when it comes to dealing with death. Let’s just say they put a new spin on “not all skin folk are your kin folk”. Not all kin folk care or have your best interests at heart. You see who really has your back. You get to see their real intentions and if you’re lucky, you’ll see what they really think, feel and the levels of deception they’ll reveal. Every revelation broke my heart more and more every time someone’s mask fell off. In that same breath, a bit of relief set in because I was finally starting to see who people really were at their core.

The funeral itself was beautiful. My parent’s community really showed up and relatives and friends poured in from all over the world. People I hadn’t seen since I was a child were there. Old friends, new friends and all those in between showed up and showed out. For a moment, my heart felt full seeing the showing of support. The only downside is that all eyes were on our immediate family. I could see through the empathetic gazes and stares that they were anticipating our unraveling. Having to keep it together and be strong was the goal. It wasn’t until I returned to my home, in the silence when I would finally be able to let the grief and sadness fully consume me. I’ve been to the darkest corners of my soul.

Even though I consider myself to be a realist, I was quick to envision a world without me in it before I would dare see a world without either of my parents. As they lowered my mother’s casket into the ground, I felt like a part of me was being lowered with her, almost like an untethering was occurring. I think we often take for granted the roles that parents play in our lives. My mother served as sort of a compass in mine, and when I speak to my dad, he describes her as such. She was so many things to us, played so many roles, wore so many hats and was so much to so many people. She offered a covering that was unmatched. I could be anywhere in the world and feel the protection of her prayers over me. She had a direct line to God, and had so much wisdom and knowledge. Even when she was being stubborn as all get out, she had an unshakeable faith that made you question your own existence and reassess yourself.

There are times when I wake up and I think to call her just to hear her sing-songy voice on the other end but then I am reminded that she isn’t here. That never-ending loop of pain and grief can be all-consuming. I have to remind myself that my mother wouldn’t want me to wallow in it. There is no greater heartbreak than losing a parent, especially your mother. Losing her showed how fragile life is. Mothers are known for their strength, unconditional love and care. To lose a great love like that, one that can’t be replaced by anyone, is truly heartbreaking. My only hope is to try to harness as much of that love and to be able to give and receive just as much of it.

Hello Autumn!

With every new season comes new beginnings, almost like a mini reset. What makes Fall better than the other seasons for me is you can see the physical changes happening around us. It’s the season when life changes. The temperature starts to drop slightly, the air becomes more crisp and the leaves on the trees change color as they fall to the ground. It’s back to school for the majority of the world, signaling to the rest of us that it’s time to buckle down, strike momentum and increase productivity. We have a little over 3 months left in the year before we see 2025. I woke up this morning feeling like I need to get in crunch mode. Fall allows me to take stock of what I have accomplished over the year and what I need to continue to work on. For most of us, Summer allowed us to slow down some and rest a little before the real work begins.

When I started my podcast, it was around this time last year. Once the Winter hit, it was hard to keep that momentum going. Especially with all that was happening with me and to me at the time. I decided to take a long break in Spring and Summer. I needed to rest and recalibrate. Spent that time learning and growing, especially after my health scare at the start of Summer. What’s that they always say? If you don’t take care of yourself, the universe will sit you down and force you to. It’s like I was shaken awake and I could finally see clearly. I needed to listen to my body and focus on what it needs. I spent the Summer consulting with experts, gathering information and tapping into all of the resources I could access. I’m still doing that except now, it’s time to get to work. It’s time to make decisions that will have lasting effects. Time to get my health, mind and body right.

I’m a firm believer of “if you stay ready you don’t have to get ready”. I’ve been mulling over my career trajectory lately. Even though I don’t have a particular path in mind, it doesn’t hurt to be prepared. I was updating my resume recently and noticed that out of the six jobs I’ve had since I graduated from undergrad, four of them started in the Fall, between October and December. I don’t think that’s by coincidence. I start to get an itch for change as the Summer hits its full swing. Having restful Summers is what has allowed me to quiet my mind, get focused and gear up to make moves. Those moves have been rewarding and there’s past evidence of that. It’s time for me to channel that energy again. I’m about to hit the three year mark in my current role. Ask any HR professional worth their salt and they’ll tell you, don’t stay in the same role more than 3-4 years (except if you’re self-employed) or else it’ll start to hurt you when you want to move on. Staying with the same employer is fine if there is progression in the form of promotions and/or increased job duties. If you’re not seeing growth, it’s time to move on to the next opportunity.

Aside from health and career, finance has been another focal point these past couple of months. Primarily investing since I’m still very green in this area. I’m a “set it and forget it” type of gal. I’ve been contributing to my employer-sponsored retirement account. It’s out of sight and out of mind. I have a certain percentage that gets taken out pre-tax and have been doing this for years. Mainly because the employer match is generous and not taking advantage would be like leaving free money on the table. What I hadn’t done until now was open a separate account that I can have more control over. I opened a Roth IRA recently and have been getting more versed in that realm of things. The goal is to live a “rich” life. To me, that entails ensuring that I not only set myself up to have a comfortable retirement but putting plans into place that will allow me to live fully and abundantly now. What does that look like? Picking up side gigs and looking at new opportunities that will increase my cash flow. It also means being intentional about how I spend money. Which is why I’ve been doing a “No Spend September”: only spending money on food and daily necessities (transportation, travel, health, experiences, etc). With one week left, I’ve learned that I don’t need all of the things I think I need. Window-shopping and thinking twice before I spend has been eye-opening.

Fall is “go” time. It’s time to check-in, revisit goals and create new plans for accomplishing them. I want to finish this year strong. In order to do so, I’m going to have to muster up more energy and tap in to that side of me that gets ish done, no matter what. I can acknowledge road blocks but need to form strategies to get over those hurdles and keep going. So much is riding on me being successful this time. Priorities need to be shifted, putting myself at the forefront. Most of what I’ve been doing has been about others. That seems to be the case for most of us. I need to release the shame that comes with putting myself first, change the language around it. It shouldn’t be seen as selfish to put yourself first. We can’t pour into others from empty cups. I learned that the hard way this year. This season will look different than the others that came before it. I have too much at stake this time. I may not get another chance to get things right. At least that’s the energy I’m leading with this time around.

Before Summer Ends...

I have to get at least one post in for this season. Why is it when you think you’ve gotten all of your ducks in a row, ready to be more consistent with goals and making plans that life throws you a curve ball? I’m starting to feel like I should keep those plans a secret, don’t even utter them under my breath for fear that an unknown force will come and knock them down like chess pieces. Just when I was getting ready to pivot and take on more challenges, I was thrown for a loop in June. I’ve been meaning to get back to writing but I couldn’t muster up the energy to, honestly. I had a lot to say but didn’t know where to start. Mainly because I knew I’d have to say what I’ve been up to. I’d have to tell what happened to me.

It started with a salad…an hour later I was feeling the worst pain I had ever experienced. I couldn’t walk and could barely even stand. The mister left work early to check on me and found me shivering, teeth-chattering, heart palpitating, wrapped up in a throw from head to toe on a 90+ degree day. When he had checked my temperature, it was over 105. For those who don’t know, here’s a frame of reference: a fever of 103 requires immediate medical attention; 105 degrees and higher could lead to organ damage and 107 and higher can lead to brain damage. I wasn’t grasping the gravity of the situation I was in at that time. My stubbornness had me thinking I could sleep the fever off. Every time the mister would check my temperature, it would continue to spike. My heart rate was out of control. After constant prodding, I finally gave in to going to see a doctor. It wasn’t until we got to urgent care, then subsequently sent to the ER, that I realized I had been staring down the barrel of death. A nurse told me “Thank God you came in! You could’ve died!”

The days that followed were filled with endless tests, screenings, medications with countless doctors and health professionals in and out of my room all hours of the day and night for what felt like days on end. Anyone that would look at my chart would look at me and tell me how fortunate I was. I recovered after several days in the hospital but was warned that it could take me a while to fully recover and that it may be an uphill battle to get back to feeling 100% again. Months later, I am still on the mend but I’m forever grateful. I have the deepest level of gratitude for all of my caregivers, for the people who showed me grace and kindness, for the friends who showed up to sit with me, who continued to check in way after the fact with genuine concern, care packages and cooked meals.

I want to appeal to you the reader to view my story as a cautionary tale: to listen to your body and to prioritize your health and safety. I keep thinking back to the moments when I wasn’t feeling well but was stubbornly resisting seeking medical assistance. Looking back at that moment scares me because I now know that things could’ve taken the turn for the worst in my situation had I waited too long. It shines a light on the importance of having people in your corner who will fight for you when you can’t. I remember that first night in the hospital. Anytime anything buzzed on my heart monitor or my IV pump beeped, the mister was at the nurses station, fetching someone to come take care of it, wanting to know what each beep or buzz meant. He was with me everyday, remembering to ask questions I’d forget to ask, standing guard whenever I was being poked and prodded, ensuring I was getting the necessary care. This experience highlighted for me the importance of having an advocate: someone who has your best interests and well-being at heart. I can only imagine what the standard of care looks like for those who are going it alone. Again, I am deeply grateful.

April Showers Bring May Flowers?

When will this dreary weather let up? The weather has been so warm lately (high 80’s mostly). I was ready to dry clean and store my Winter and Spring wardrobe, retire my boots for more toe cleavage-showing shoes but have to hold off. I got used to waking up to the sun shining brightly through my window blinds. I look out the window today and wonder, what gives? A friend had reminded me that the first weekend in May is usually pretty rainy, so it’s not out of the ordinary (I appreciate a good almanac reference). I had to suck it up and still make the best of it because I wasn’t about to let a little rain impede on the weekend I had in store. May the 4th was free comic book day, the South Street Festival and pre-Cinco de Mayo festivities. The following day, was the infamous Broad Street Run (Annual 10K race in Center City). I woke up on Sunday to the screams and cheers of the spectators at the race. Despite the showers, I was glad to see Philadelphians step out and show out to support the runners.

What this weekend signified was the need to be able to constantly pivot when plans change suddenly. Can’t get sidetracked when things don’t go as planned (the meteorologists failed to mention the week of rain ahead, but oh well). I remember the days when folks would call out and/or change their rsvp’s to “not coming” because they didn’t want to get wet. Sometimes, it’s an excuse to hunker down because they weren’t in the mood to join the masses and socialize, which we’re all allowed to do. Not that I’m experiencing FOMO (fear of missing out), but I was determined not to let my plans be derailed, and I succeeded. The mister and I spent the weekend running around town. He sometimes calls it “cruising”: driving around town just to be out, see some sights and explore a different neighborhood. I used to scoff at that in the earlier days (being out for no good reason) but get it now.

The continued showers and rainy weather signifies a cleansing that’s been needed for a while. Washing away all the guck and filth so that renewal and growth can take its place. I don’t mind that one bit. Some of us have been carrying the world on our shoulders for too long, not always deciphering what absolutely needs to be carried. A lot of what we carry is unnecessary junk that has to be off-loaded at some point or another. Instead, that “stuff” gets tangled with the necessary to the point where we can’t tell which is which. Sometimes, you just have to allow the flood waters to haul away the stuff that no longer suits you. For me, what needs to be hauled away are the following:

1) Prolonged stress: Stress seems to be a natural part of life. However, I’ve been experiencing it for prolonged periods of time these last several months. Things back home have been rocky again (the ongoing saga of my mom’s health), the ushering in of a new administration at work, along with a growing caseload of issues that sometimes keep me up at night. This isn’t my first time at the rodeo, but weeks on end of stress-inducing situations with no relief, have been wreaking havoc on me mentally, emotionally and physically. I’m trying my best to strike a balance.

2) Procrastination: Primarily due to the stuff I mentioned above, which leads to me putting my passions and other pursuits on the back burner, leaving me feeling behind constantly. I’m still trying to play catchup.

3) Grief: Sadness over lost connections, changes in relationships and loss of certain opportunities. I experienced most of this last Fall into the Winter. I’ve seen a shift in Spring but waiting for the whole season to end before I can claim any victory over this period in my life. What’s made all the difference is the healthy relationships that have replaced the ones I’ve lost. Having people to go through the rough patches with has made all the difference. It has also freed me up to show up for those who are now where I used to be, being a shoulder while they deal with their losses.

There is so much more “junk” I could list, but these are the ones that I have prioritized for now. I hope and pray for those going through similar struggles, to find solace in knowing that you aren’t the only one going through stuff. There is a light at the end of which ever tunnels you are working your way through. You aren’t alone. Just know that it’ll all be okay in the end. We sometimes have to go through the rainy season before our flowers can finally bloom. Just remember to take care of yourself along the way.

42: My Love Year

As I look out over the water that separates NJ and NY on my birthday, I can’t help but feel full of joy. I hosted one hell of a bash this past weekend with my loved ones: kindred spirits I’ve met along the way that have long since become an extension of my family. Friends are the family you choose and I have chosen them well over the years. I ran myself ragged leading up to the shindig, which just so happened to fall on the 420 holiday, and on the first day of my favorite season, Taurus season. Weeks of preparation and with the aid of my day ones/sous chefs, the event came together seamlessly. I got to see folks I hadn’t seen since before the pandemic and those who I’d only seen in passing briefly. Those who were supposed to be there were there and they brought the good vibes and positivity I hoped for.

It’s no coincidence that the sign of Taurus is ruled by Venus, which signifies love, affection and sensuality. The event was practically a love fest, one filled with laughter and strangers showing genuine interest in each other. One of my guests asked how I am always able to bring equal parts men and women to my events. I answered jokingly and cockily that you have to be someone that people enjoy being around. In all seriousness though, it’s not just for me that they show up. I’m not someone who does well with surfacey relationships. I am all in and come with and bring out the depth in all of my interactions, intentionally. I could look at each of the attendees and remember a story, a moment that we shared that left a lasting impression on me. When I get my people together, it’s not just for me, it’s for them to also connect. When I find good people, I like to share them, introduce them to other people I think they’ll also gel with. After all, isn’t that the point? Why are we all here if not to share and connect with other like-minded individuals?

In this 42nd year of my life, I declare it to be my love year. The year that I continue to love up on my people, continue to find more love, share and cultivate the love I already have in my life. Earlier in the year, I couldn’t shake the feeling that big love was on the way. I don’t want to jinx myself so I’ll leave it there. I’ve been MIA for a while on here because I’ve been busy living as if and really focusing on the present, on loving in every sense of the word. I’m on the brink of it and feel it coursing through me at atomic levels. Filling me up and leaving me satiated in ways I’ve never felt before. Don’t get it twisted, life has still been life’ing and testing me in ways I’ve never thought possible. What makes those times bearable are the people I get to share those moments with. This time last year, I was at a deficit and yet there were folks still making withdrawals. As I continue to usher in more love and genuine connections, I’m ushering out those that have left me feeling depleted and used. Reciprocity is where it’s at. I want to continue to show up and show out the way my people do for me. I want love to be what we all strive for, work towards and show wholeheartedly to one another.

Hump Day Dreaming

Aside from being distracted this week, a steadily growing employee relations case load and coaching sessions, things have been slower at work than usual. After the pandemonium of the previous week, I am welcoming this time of not allowing myself to feel as overwhelmed. Wednesdays are the “humps” in the week that we all have to get over to ensure that we’ll get through the remaining weekdays and coast through to the weekend. Even though this week hasn’t been so bad, I still look forward to the respite that Saturday and Sunday brings. I have a couple grueling things to get through between now and Friday. After that, I can kick my legs up, relax and recharge. For now, I find myself dreaming about all the things I have lined up and upcoming opportunities to play.

With our 70+ degree days, I find that my mood is more chipper. I open my blinds every morning and allow the sun light to shine through, enveloping me with its warmth and it feels amazing. I wake up excited to take on the day, ready for the challenges and potential wins. These days, I feel warm both inside and out. I am happy and content for the first time in a really long while. For the first time, the unknown excites me, even when that excitement is coupled with a little hint of fear. The days are getting longer and it appears like Winter will soon come to an end. The plants are starting to bud and the blades of grass have broke the surface (although they are still looking a little dry). Maybe they’ll get to stick around a little longer. After all the cold and rain, we all deserve better days and I believe those are around the corner and ahead of us. The rains have washed away all of the dread and sadness. Now it’s time to watch growth and renewal take form.

I’ve been going back and forth about which places I want to explore next. I’m already getting the itch to plan my next getaway. Ireland is a strong maybe for the Fall, along with the Geechee Islands in South Carolina. Italy and London are also on that growing list. Ideally, Ghana would be my next international destination. Not just because of all the people I have met from there or the friends who travel regularly to Accra, I have yet to step foot on the continent and I’ve had a growing desire to go. I crave a visit to the motherland (funny, I mentioned Africa being the “motherland” to a friend and he scoffed at that statement, wondering what that is about). The flight there is so long that I would need to stay at least two weeks to make it worth my while. The thing holding me back is I want to do it right and go with the right people. After the Paris debacle of 2009, I learned that the company you travel with can make or break the experience you’ll ultimately have. For now, a trip to Ireland seems the most likely of all the destinations to happen. I’ll continue to track flight prices on Google Flights, hoping that the prices will make it worth my while and I’ll decide on a whim whether to take the leaps on these jaunts.

Right now I’m looking forward to spending quality time with friends and trying to get creative about different ways we can accomplish that. While grand adventures are on hold, smaller local ones are easier to plan and execute. Aside from some small get-togethers, the first activity booked is baby goat yoga in April (click here for info), many wine festivals scattered throughout the PA/NJ/NY region between May and September, so many music festivals in the PA/NY/DC area throughout the Summer and a ton of concerts of up-and-coming and established artists. If you’re an Afrobeats connoisseur like me, those artists always make their rounds in the Philly, NYC, DC area, all which are within two hours of each other. There are also so many themed street festivals, many that are neighborhood specific and most that revolve around food trucks with cuisines from all over the area and world. I say all of this to say, you don’t have to leave your neighborhoods in order to escape and try something different. As my calendar starts to fill up, I’m trying to be mindful of the time I’ll need to rest in between all of these experiences. I’m hoping to continue to nourish and feed my soul.

Lazy Sunday

I survived another professional development week at work that was jam-packed with programming. Even though it was a success and my team had a good turnout and lots of interest in the different offerings, I was worn out. Come Saturday, I was ready to have fun for me and to unplug from work. As the years go by, I find that I need a day to recuperate after a late night out on the town. I spent last night immersed in cigars, bourbon, people watching and deep convo. I hadn’t done that in a while and it was a different pace for me. I didn’t let the heavy rains on Saturday deter me from stepping out and being in good company made it worthwhile. Gone are the days where I can keep going straight through the weekend on minimal sleep. When I was planning for the weekend, I had the option to go out today (Sunday) instead but I didn’t want to risk tiring myself out before the beginning of the work week. If I had done so, I would’ve been dragging throughout the week and it would’ve caused a domino effect of exhaustion and discombobulation. Using Sunday to allow me to rest and re-energize before the demands of work come flooding in was a wise choice.

Forming new friendships hasn’t been as difficult as I thought it would be. I usually meet transplants of the male persuasion from other places, looking for someone to explore the city with. It’s always enjoyable seeing the city through their lenses. I’m being constantly reminded why I moved here and what made me fall in love with this city: I’m always meeting other dreamers, people on a search for their version of “happy”. Last night reminded me that I need a balance of male and female energy in my life. I’m mostly canoodling with my gal pals regularly but occasionally need the vibes that my guy friends bring. Not having to be “on” for a potential mate allows me to relax and just be myself, fully. We can enjoy our time out while taking in our surroundings and commentating on what we see, all the while catching up on life, sharing “war” stories and doling out advice to each other about the opposite sex.

After my most recent conversations with my male companions, I realized that roasting is my love language when it comes to them (and most of the men in my life, which also includes my dad). It’s never from a mean-spirited place. We poke fun at each other and laugh like giddy kids. That’s how we show each other love. Like my relationships with my girlfriends, my guy friends also provide a safe space for us to share and be vulnerable. I always walk away with gems from our conversations and because my homies are gentlemen always, I’m continually reminded of the goodness that does exist in male nature but is sometimes masked by pride, bravado and societal pressures to be a certain way. Not all of them are savages with one-track minds, as social media would have you believing. I love how honest they are about where they are in their lives and appreciate the sage wisdom they share from time to time. I will definitely include them in my vetting process while I date (which is something I haven’t done in the past because I wanted to give men a fair shot). They have beautiful souls and can sense that in others. After all, high value men (men of moral character and good standing in their community) can weed out the phonies and their protectiveness provides a covering to the women in their lives. I wish I had leaned on their input more.

I spent most of the day today laid up watching endless YouTube dating shows (the algorithm always seems to play them in endless loops, which gets me hooked). As I was watching, I came to a conclusion: there are droves of shallow men and women out there who are unhealed and should probably focus on personal and professional development instead of dating. They are what’s wrong with the current landscape. There were three different channels that I watched: one show that is based in Nigeria, one in Arizona and one in New Jersey. They all had the same premise: there is either a row of ladies or men, all holding balloons as a man or woman is paraded in front of them. Those holding the balloons pop them based on their interest in the person. I’m not going to name names but you can easily search for these shows on YT and so many variations will come up. The three locations I mentioned seemed to be the more popular ones. Of the three, the Nigerian show is the most popular and most jarring. Here are some of the themes I saw in the show: when it was a man being ranked by the women, the women would pop their balloons if the guy was deemed too short (even if he was taller than them, smh), if he wasn’t dark-skinned (that seemed to be the preference amongst most women), if he wasn’t wearing expensive clothes and if his profession wasn’t deemed corporate enough or profitable. When it was the men’s turn to rate women, they were popping balloons for women who didn’t have a big “gnash” (a big butt), small chests, who were too short, who also weren’t dark-skinned (there were several who had a light-skinned preference although most who preferred darker skin since they see a lot of skin bleaching going on, which they don’t like), and the men also seemed to care about what labels and brands the women were wearing and how much they spent on their outfits as well.

One thing that seemed to matter for both sexes was whether they were educated, had a good profession and presented like someone who had a lot of money. In every show, contestants were asked to list the prices of all the clothing they were wearing. All of the women wanted a “provider” type, even going as far as to ask how much a man was willing to spend on them in a month. The men would respond and give the women an amount, based on how beautiful they deemed them to be. What ensued was a lot of back and forth dissing and reading each other for filth if they weren’t each others types or if the women were insulted by the amounts of money the men were potentially offering if they were to wife them up. I had to do a double-take. If these are dating shows that people are coming on, looking for love and hoping to find matches, why all the back-biting and dissing? A lot of it was aggressive, so much so that they had to have security in the room. There was no considerations for each others feelings and backgrounds. And there was a lot of delusion as well with how folks viewed themselves, especially the women. They were all rating themselves perfect 10’s (when it was clearly not the case) and would curse out all the men that rated them lower. There was some of that delusion on the men’s side too but not as much as the women. The end result was that most folks would leave without a match. Those who were successful were so because they were looking for much more than the material things. It was what was beneath the surface that piqued their interest as well. I am also taking culture into account (is this how dating in Nigeria looks like?)

What made my foray into the dating show streets interesting was that it made me wonder whether these shows are representative of what dating looks like today. Are they a microcosm of what we’re all experiencing? I see it play out time and time again: the majority of women seem to go for the top 1-5% of men (the men that society has deemed to be catches, based on their looks, height and profession) and yet they cry on online forums about how they are getting played by these men. Go figure! Everyone is claiming they are looking for a beauty that is beyond skin deep but the end result is them overlooking quality and going for the “it” guy. What many of them end up with is community peen that they have to share with other women. The men they are vying for may have started out looking for their “one and only” but once they see the droves of women, competing for their attention, they give up on that hunt and instead give in to being the hunted since the odds are always in their favor.

If this is an indication of what the landscape will continue to look like, I want no parts of it. Many of us will end up alone if we keep allowing the mainstream society to dictate who we should be with or find appealing. Anytime I start to talk to someone new, there’s always a small faction of vain women who wants to see what the person looks like so they can pick him apart and it’s usually someone who doesn’t have their own relationship to speak of. No shade to them, but I always think the same way they are judging that person on their looks, someone could also be doing that to them. That was what was the most jarring thing about the show I was watching. The women were rating the men zeros through fours out of ten but would lose their minds when they were also rated low. They couldn’t take what they were dishing and it showed in their reactions. Even those who would’ve went for the guy, would allow their opinions to be swayed by the rest of the group (in my eyes, group think is hurting us). Moral of the story is and has always been that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. I accept that I may not be everyones cup of tea. That just means that they are not my person/people. My person will love me inside and out and I them. I have fallen for what is in someone’s heart and mind, not necessarily what’s on the outside. That’s usually an added bonus. Don’t get me wrong, physical attraction is important but looks will fade. They can’t be the end all be all. That’s why there has to be more depth to the people you’re with. I’ve always been a sapiosexual. Always checking for that “nerd” or quiet dude who did his own thing. I realize it is because I saw a lot of myself in them. The sexiest thing is seeing a man dance to the beat of his own drum. I believe if we all did that, unabashedly, it wouldn’t be so hard to get coupled up. I hope the tides will turn soon…

Down to the Studs

Sometimes you have to “destroy in order to rebuild”. Figuratively speaking, for me, this involves stripping away all the unnecessary layers that are currently weighing me down. Getting rid of all the low priority items from my life in order to build back better and stronger, prioritizing what’s essential to optimal performance is my goal right now. After returning from my visit home, I resumed identifying those things that were no longer serving me. I’m getting rid of my metaphorical clutter in order to create space for the things, experiences and people I want to attract. Slowly but surely, I am seeing seismic shifts take place and it’s looking promising.

Before I left for my journey home, I had initiated the process of dropping a course I was knee deep in. I had to admit to myself that being so entrenched in a demanding certificate program at this moment was not the best choice for me at this point in my life. I was being pulled in so many directions and accelerated classes and their demands were on the bottom rung of the totem pole of my list of priorities. My time away with family deserved my undivided attention. When I received the approval to drop the course, I breathed a deep sigh of relief. I am grateful that I will be able to pick up where I left off when I’m good and ready. When I did get back from my trip, I met up with friends (old and new) to break bread, catch up and to check-in. So much had been transpiring, not just with me but with everyone. It felt good to connect and touch base with folks, without having the pressure to rush home to write a paper or hop online for a meeting. I had the bandwidth to pour into others and the results were nourishing on all fronts.

Today marks a week since I’ve been back and I’m already planning my next venture home. However, I vow to stay in the present moment and give my undivided attention to whatever I am doing, wherever I am. I’m trying to be more mindful, putting one foot in front of the other instead of rushing to the next thing and the next experience. No more rushing through moments and quickly moving on, I want to savor each and every one. Spring is around the corner and I am trying to prepare for it. I look forward to the renewal the season brings. I think that’s why I love Spring so much. It’s like getting to hit reset and starting fresh with a clean slate. This year, the first day of Spring is on March 19th. I’ve been toying with the idea of hosting a shindig around that time to usher in the new season. I have an appointment for another hair revamp. I’ve still been seeing my dietician, health coach and therapist. I’ve also been keeping up with all of my health check-ins, appointments and blood work, trying to ensure that I remain on track.

My birthday will be here before I know it and I feel ill-prepared for it. There is so much I am hoping to accomplish in the next month and a half before then. I’m trying to prepare for it instead of having it creep up on me like it did last year. Last year wasn’t about me. I wasn’t fulfilling my needs and life was coming at me fast. I want to have some control this time. I already have my spa appointments booked for the day. Debating whether I should take more time off to just “be”. Taking myself down to the studs also entails me getting even more grounded spiritually. No more attending church at bedside Baptist, time to find a new church home. Time to look for a spiritual community, one that I can sow into. I’m starting to fear that some of my prayers are falling on deaf ears. Don’t get me wrong, I feel blessed but can’t help but have this nagging feeling that I should be doing more. I want to live a more intentional God-centered life, one that involves a community of people doing the same. People who understand the path I’m trying to stay on. I’ve been doing my worship solo for a while now and realize I need to do more, what I’ve been doing isn’t enough. No more running away from living my life for HIM. I miss the peace that walking fully with God brings.

As far as physically, I’m a work in progress still. I’ve been losing weight slow and steady. Trying to build a lifestyle that is sustainable long term. I do love getting compliments about how good my skin is looking. It’s not just what I’ve been eating, new regimens and exercise. What’s also been helping is mitigating stress. That has been a game-changer for me. I’m looking for more ways to continue to reduce stress. As for drama, I’ve been doing my best to stay clear of it. No more carrying other people’s baggage. No more dragging my own into new relationships. The best compliment I’ve gotten this year has been that I exude happiness and come off more chipper. That wasn’t necessarily the case around this time last year. What has helped has been combating the negative self-talk that used to play on a loop in my head. I am light and airy nowadays, continually counting my blessings and expressing gratitude.

Another thing that helps, when expelling the negative is having a good cry every now and then. Sometimes, we’re so wound up because we haven’t had a good release. Crying gives me that release. At times, the tears will be brought on by the most random thoughts and memories. It could be a heart-wrenching song that starts to play and then the water works ensue. Recently, I was talking to a friend and her words triggered me but in a good way. I launched into the ugly cry. I was embarassed at first. I was having a vulnerable moment and then I just let go and gave in. I stopped trying to hold it all in. Shortly after that, I launched into fits of laughter when I thought of how ridiculous I looked. And just like that, I felt better again. I needed that release. I am determined to keep taking things one day at a time.

Lastly, the process of rebuilding oneself requires vulnerability and openness to change old habits and patterns that no longer work. It’s back to the drawing board for me. Like I said, I am a work in progress so I am recreating my scripts, creating new manuals of how to ace this thing called life. It’s all TBD but for me I’m excited for what’s to come. I am eager to do the work necessary to ensure I will be a better human being. In turn, it’ll make me a better daughter, sister, friend and partner.

Friends: The Family We Choose

Harvard Square seems like a common meeting place for my friend group. It holds so many pivotal memories. Old hang out spots that no longer exist, replaced by new ones that are the back drop of new memories being forged. The demographic that frequents that area has been steadily changing. I remember the “grown and sexy” nights (even though most of us were in our mid to late twenties and early thirties at the time). There was a nice dose of melanin at the events we’d attend there. It was a good mix of Harvard students, students from other universities in the area and young professionals. Some of my best dates occurred in that square. I came of age stomping through the Cambridge streets throughout the years, and Harvard Square is definitely in that highlight reel (Central Square also gets an honorable mention). Now, it seems like the crowds are getting younger and younger, more homogeneous. It sometimes feels weird being out with “adults” young enough to be your children. Most are usually bar and club hopping like I used to do way back when. I much now prefer to post up at one spot for the night as my compadres and I recount our “glory” days. However, going back home and hanging out in that place always makes me feel like a “yout” again.

A couple of my close girlfriends and I hit up our favorite spot. It has become a custom for me when in town: a large grilled al pastor quesadilla with a prickly pear and/or passion fruit margarita are my go to’s. The night initially started off with two of us, then another two joined. We were rounded out by a new-ish addition (a friend of a friend) towards the end of the evening. Margaritas were flowing and delectable Mexican dishes were had throughout the night, while we caught up with one another. It felt like old times. We’re at the age now where nostalgia is a big part of our conversations. Our eyes were glazing over at specific fond memories and the occasional fits of laughter filled the air. All the while, we were interacting with the strangers in our orbits, weaving in and out of conversations mostly about life and the shenanigans we were witnessing occur around us. The only thing we had to worry about was making sure we stayed hydrated and drank enough water in between our alcoholic drinks. Needless to say, a good time was had. We ended the night a few doors down at a new late night pizza spot. Think New York Pizza in the South End and in enters Joe’s. Luckily, we didn’t have to go far to indulge in more scrumptious goodness.

I am grateful that I have the outlet that I do in the form of true companions, each bringing something different to our group dynamic. When we’re together, we’re able to unpack all that we have going on, in a judgement-free zone. What I realize is that we’re not just in each others lives to provide support unconditionally. We’re also able to provide feedback and hold each other accountable. When I look at my immediate circle, we are all dealing with a challenge or two that complicates our lives. I love how we’re always able to set those things aside to be there for one another. When we’re together, there’s room to vent but mostly we’re trying to find the funny amidst the chaos we’re all living through. We laugh much more than we cry. Being able to step away from the “not so great” moments of life to let your hair down with those who love you is a beautiful thing. It was the prescription I needed for the hectic time I’ve been having.

Friends are the family we choose. I am constantly reminded of this. I have friends that are much closer to me than family, especially in the most transformative seasons of my life. Each one came into my life at the right time, for one reason or another, and has stayed. Continuing to enrich my life in more ways than I could’ve ever imagined. I always say that God brings the right people into your life at the right time. Even though I live the furthest away, I look forward to connecting with my peeps whenever I come into town. They are my calm, my north star, when everything else goes to ish. I am continuing to build a strong network in Philly but will always view my day ones back home as the standard. They have set the bar really high.

Home "Sweet" Home

There’s something about being amongst the familiar that soothes the soul. Despite some of the strife you may recollect that came from some of the same sources. I can say this wholeheartedly because I’ve seen the glow my mom exudes just being back in her element, even when she’s in a sour mood and bedridden still. The “rehab” facility was sucking the life out of her and the care she was getting, despite the hefty price tag, was subpar and below the bare minimum. Hearing more of the stories about the things that transpired in her final days there, before she was released to come home, make me angry. Someone has to be held accountable for the things that happened but right now, all I can do is thank God for answering my prayers and making a way for her to finally come home. I was searching for a bright spot in all of this, in all that she has gone through and it came the night I arrived. She delivered my dad and I belly laughs that reverberated through the house. I couldn’t remember the last time we laughed together like that. I can’t recall the last time I heard my father laugh. Even though the laughter was at her expense, it normalized everything between us. My mom has a long road to recovery still but I am hopeful that with better care and being around loved ones who can access her more easily, her journey won’t be as arduous. I am here to put a real plan in place to ensure she can stay on track.

My visits are always bittersweet. I love being around my parents and a few of the family members who have their best interests at heart. It could be the loyal and stubborn Taurean bull in me but knowing how sweet and generous my parents have been, and still are to all of those in their orbit, anyone who has a problem with them has a problem with me by default. This includes immediate family. Sadly, those closest to us tend to hurt us the most. I’m trying to lessen my grip on the reigns and extend a little grace but it’s difficult. Some things are just too egregious to put into words and yet, my parents still have the capacity to forgive. I want to be more forgiving, without sacrificing my backbone and letting folks think that me extending grace means they can continue their bad behaviors. Remember Michelle Obama’s famous slogan, “when they go low, we go high” (I even have a sweatshirt with this saying on it that I have yet to wear)? After too many slights from folks and them crossing me and my loved ones, my slogan has been when they go low, I go scorched earth like Thanos. It usually doesn’t happen suddenly. It’s after numerous attempts at finding common ground until I reach my breaking point. We all have one and some of us arrive at it sooner than others.

In this phase of my life I’m tired of holding on to conflicts, especially ones that aren’t mine to carry. For my own well-being, I have to let stuff go. I don’t have the bandwidth to hold on to any grudges (except for those that are valid for good reason). I want to instead channel that energy where it matters. If I want to manifest more love in my life, I have to BE love. If I want grace and space extended to me, I too need to extend those things. I cannot attract that which I don’t foster fully and I need to do so in all areas of my life. To find a happy median, I can love even those select few people, just from afar. They don’t need to be in my immediate orbit, causing me and those around me harm. I can still send loving energy their way. As we get older, family becomes more and more important. After a heart to heart with a dear friend and colleague earlier in the week, her words still resound in my mind: “learn to pick and choose your battles”. You don’t have to hold on to all of the animosity. Letting it go leaves you feeling much lighter. There’s one relative that had recently disappointed me. I had vowed to never speak to them again. They didn’t realize I was in town (my parents are the only ones I typically tell that I’m coming) and when they came upon me, all they could do was cup my cheek in their hand, lovingly. And just like that, all the hurt they caused me melted away. It softened me immediately.

Sometimes that’s all it takes. One moment of vulnerability. I didn’t recoil and my voice softened. There’s something about having someone in your immediate personal space that can either feel threatening or disarming. I felt super vulnerable but not in a scared kind of way. I welcomed the moment even though not much was said. The apology I was hoping for never came. Regardless of that, there was a weight that lifted off of me and just like that I was finally able to go to sleep peacefully. Now that I’m awake, and working for a few hours before I can officially log off for the rest of my time here, I can reserve my energy for what truly matters. I have my marching orders for the day and formulating plans as I go along. My initial welcome home has laid the ground work for the rest of my time here. For once, I’m actually looking forward to what lies ahead in the days to come.

Protect Your Neck

After I submitted my assignments this past Thursday for the Python Computer Programming course I’m enrolled in this semester, I asked myself “who am I doing this for?” Do I care about the content or am I doing this because I’m bored again? This time around, I’m finding that I’m starting to feel like I’m on a hamster wheel. School and this course hasn’t been fun this month. I’m finally coasting at work, my social life is picking back up (“Mimosa Live!” at Xfinity Live on Saturday was a good ol’ time) despite the weather and snow; and I’ve been giving myself more time to get focused. I realized today that I don’t need another class or a grade on my transcript at this moment to feel fulfilled. That can wait. There are more pressing things to focus on, primarily caring for family and overall life maintenance.

Mommy dearest was finally released to come home but the transition has been rocky and will require much more attention and coordination. It’s time for me to do another check-in, except this time I can’t be bogged down with working while I’m away, school work and running around trying to see everyone and their momma. This time, I need to be on actual “leave” so I can give my time with my parents all of the attention it deserves. Everything else will be secondary. I’ve been doing way too much and wearing myself out unnecessarily. The leave request has been submitted and it’s time to prep for another journey home.

There was a deep sense of relief when I finally got the news that my mother could return home. My dad’s voice has been light and airy, which has been heartwarming, despite the fact that he is going to need to step up even more than before. While I plan out my time with them and make a list of priority items that I’ll need to tackle while I’m with them, I can’t help but wonder what my life will be like when I’m my parent’s age. I realize that I have to continue planning and prepping to ensure my future will be comfortable. Here are some of the things I’ve learned in these last few years about life planning, not just for my parents but for myself:

1) Short-Term and Long-Term Disability coverage is an absolute must. God forbid you become injured or incapacitated at some point, you want to make sure that all of your financial responsibilities can be covered. Paying for it on the front end will ensure you are taken care of on the back end. I personally know people in their 30’s and 40’s who can no longer work and are collecting SSI (Supplemental Security Income), which doesn’t cover much. You need the additional buffer. STD and LTD plans are typically offered through one’s own employer, where the employer pays towards it and the employee pays a small premium. It is so worth it, so please ask if it is offered if you aren’t already enrolled. If for some reason, your employer doesn’t offer it, you can look into getting private insurance.

2) Health, Dental and Vision insurance. Make sure you always have these coverages, whether you need them or not. The last thing you need is to pay out of pocket for any services that could’ve been discounted by insurance. One emergency visit to the hospial could bankrupt you. Employers often offer these plans and sponsor them. You’d be responsible for a nominal monthly premium. If for some reason, this isn’t offered as a benefit through your employer or you are self-employed, you can look up the health insurance marketplaces for your particular state (start here).

3) Prescription Benefits: Again, look to your employer or the health insurance marketplace for prescription benefit plans. I personally have one through my employer with CVS and it’s fully covered through my health insurance. For example, Flonase over the counter costs me $15-20 dollars out of pocket. Through my insurance, the generic brand only cost me $2.00. We’re in the era of the cost of prescription drugs constantly fluctuating and inflation has definitely had an impact.

4) Health Savings/Flexible Spending Accounts: The best thing you can do for yourself and your finances is to ensure that you put aside enough money for any medical procedures or upcoming routine appointments. What’s great about this is you can set this money aside in a health care savings account pre-tax, which lowers your taxable income and lessens your tax burden. Just make sure you use that money or you risk losing it. If your employer offers this, check to see if you will be able to carry over any remaining balances to the following year.

5) Long Term Care Insurance: This is a game changer. Like health insurance, you want to secure this coverage before you need it or you run the risk of not qualifying for it. Many of our parents from the Boomer and older generations relied on their children to provide them care when they get older. From my own personal experience, having children doesn’t guarantee that they will provide that care. Even if you have one stepping up to provide assistance, it is a huge undertaking and can be costly and too much of a burden for one to carry. Many folks these days don’t have children and can’t even count on that lifeline of assistance. Medicare is limited in what it covers. Supplemental insurance, depending on your age, can include coverage for short-term care. What it doesn’t include is LTC. LTC coverage will ensure that you have enough money to cover either in-home care, out-patient care or care in a nursing/rehab facility. More high end facilities can cost upwards of $600 per day, just to provide basic care, meals and a semi-private room. I’m currently shopping around for this coverage so that I ensure I can get care in all three settings. Better to have it and never need it then to go in to a facility suddenly, which puts you at risk of losing all of your assets (savings, real estate, investments, etc) and/or risk losing a good quality of care.

These are just a few things I’ve been exploring on my journey to ensuring the ease of life for years to come. I am merely scratching the surface. I haven’t even touched on the importance of retirement savings, life insurance, living wills and trusts, which I hope to write about in a later post. I’m all for prevention and the best way to ensure that the quality of life doesn’t decline is to live the healthiest and best life you can. What’s the point of building legacy if it’ll all fall by the wayside if you fall ill and lose everything? Staying fit, eating right and delaying the inevitable also works in your favor and works to prevent the stresses that come with aging and elder care. I have several neighbors who are in the prime of their lives (65 and up) who have been able to stay in their homes and come and go with minimal issues. That is the ideal situation but it still helps to prepare for the worst, “just in case” scenarios. Your future self will thank you. “Don’t make your future you hate you” (reference for any one who has seen the NerdWallet commercials, aren’t they depressing lol?)

Honor Thy Self

We live in an era where the race to the finish line, and skipping critical steps along the way, is what’s the norm. Everyone is so focused on actualizing their visions that they neglect the importance of the execution. The majority of us are operating under the guidelines of a microwave society, losing patience with building the basic tenets required to form lasting connections that will stand the test of time. Over the years, millennials have caught a bad rap for being way too entitled to things that normally would require effort and hard work to attain and retain. You can apply this to career, relationships and all the things older generations have been told that they need to put in sweat equity for. From where I sit, I don’t think they’re the only generation guilty of these lofty expectations, especially as it pertains to companionship and romantic relationships. Most are guilty of wanting to get to their destinations quickly.

My close friendships have stood the test of time. They took years to grow, mold and foster. I can honestly say they are prospering. I can confidently say I know who is in my corner and when asked who I rock with, I can emphatically name each and every person I would drop everything and run for, if needed. That number tends to get smaller and smaller over time though. Not because there is bad blood but mostly because of the natural shifts that occur in life. Our priorities change and we have less access to folks we thought we’d be around forever. At least that’s how I’ve always viewed all of my relationships. I don’t envision us ending, ever. So when the disconnects happen, they feel like deaths, even though we are all still living. I am trying to hold on to those connections, both old and new, doing the best I can not to let people slip through my fingers as I navigate the ups and downs of life.

While doing so, I am taking stock in what truly matters, all the while trying not to lose myself along the away. I am extending grace and space to all but sometimes when doing that, you may allow behaviors that are not conducive to maintaining healthy connections. I’m currently in a “boomerang” era: old connections that had fallen off at some point for whatever reasons, circling back. One example in particular, is someone I used to talk to some years back. I was out and about one evening with friends recently and this person messaged me the following day to say they had seen me. I couldn’t remember who they were since I didn’t have their number saved in my phone, which indicated I didn’t know them long. After we went back and forth via text and he rejogged my memory, I finally remembered. He wasn’t someone I had met in person yet and I couldn’t exactly remember why we stopped talking. In any case, we started chatting right before my trip and picked back up when I returned. It was great conversation for the most part but I slowly started to realize why we lost touch the first time.

I am really big on "your word is your bond” and intentionality. I find that people think that you’re supposed to take them at their word, even when they don’t put any action behind it. The lack of consistency irritates me. It confuses me when folks offer guarantees they know they don’t intend to keep. What’s even more annoying is that I don’t even demand anything of them, they’re the ones offering up and making promises. I’ve been in my lane, minding my business, trying to stay afloat in this thing called life. If it’s not family (which includes close friends), or work, or school, it’s me trying to be the best version of myself. Working out, eating right and staying mentally sound have been the bulk of my priorities. Fostering genuine connections and relationships are important to me. I strive to love up on my people and to continue to find my tribe. Even though I cross paths with lots of lovely people, I am focused on the quality of the connections instead of the quantity. Quantity is where you get caught up.

I’ve been toying with the idea of letting the lost connection that boomeranged back know that we should either severe ties altogether (since he has expressed romantic interest and I don’t want to waste our time) or not pursue anything beyond networking for professional reasons. No more leaving the door open for folks to feel welcomed back, while they treat it like a revolving door despite the distance and time apart. No more accepting bare minimum behavior and normalizing low effort. If they’re going to come back, they have to come correct or not at all. I think back to the last conversation we had. I made it clear that I am intentionally dating but that I’m not desperate. Meaning, if I don’t meet “the one”, I will never settle. I have always believed that what God has for me will be for me. I don’t have to chase anyone down or convince them of my worth. They will see it because I will exude worthiness and value in all that I do and in how I carry myself. What’s that saying, “he who FINDS a wife, finds a good thing” (Proverbs 18:22). Where does it say I have to chase anyone? Those that know, know. I’m in the season of matching energy and if energy isn’t reciprocated, that is an indication to move on. Like my elders say, “there is a lid for every pot”.

There’s another saying that I remind myself of: “What you compromise to get, you must compromise to keep”. I was thinking about the loving relationships and marriages I’ve seen in my orbit. All of my co-workers seem to have it with their spouses. Aside from them, I know of 1 or 2 relationships that seem to be prospering. There are those that I do see that would be better off separated. Why? Because they are compromising themselves (not to be confused with meeting half-way). You ever see someone that looks miserable in their relationship? It’s the absolute worst thing to witness. Some folks are holding on to toxic relationships with a death grip because they have years in and too much skin in the game to walk away. Nothing ages a woman more than a high stress, not secure environment. It can have the same effect on a man, too. I am like all of those men who tout that they’re looking for a woman to be his peace. I want that too, shoot! There’s nothing better than sleeping soundly beside someone who contributes to maintaining that harmony. To the men, don’t you see a difference in your woman when you provide a peaceful and secure (emotionally, mentally and physically) environment? One where she feels assured in her position in your life and she’s being loved right? She would give you the world! Believe that!

Clearing Up Misconceptions

Prior to embarking on the trip to Cuba, I read many blogs and watched many vlogs about people who have visited the island nation. I spoke to acquaintances who’ve also been and heard through the grapevine about others who made the trek there and had gotten mixed reviews. The main thing I came to realize is that you have to take what people tell you with a grain of salt. Considering all the propaganda I grew up hearing and learning about Cuba and other countries (like my native Haiti) and their people, I learned early on to form my own opinions and to experience certain things for myself. You have to consider the source always. I am a firm believer that you can control the types of experiences you curate by having an open mind, being kind and having a positive outlook. I went on the trip having low expectations and was pleasantly surprised.

Misconception #1: “Cubans Don’t Like People From the U.S.”

This couldn’t be farthest from the truth. As my group and I walked through Havana during the day and at night, we were met with lots of people curious about where we were from. Once we told them that we were from the U.S., they would brighten up immediately. Some even mentioned how much they loved Obama and how much they didn’t like the “other guy” that came after him. Many still remember Obama’s visit to the country over 8 years ago in an attempt to extend an olive branch to the Cuban people. He was the first U.S. president in 90 years to step foot on Cuban soil. Relations between the two governments were strained due to an extensive history of conflict between the two (you can read up on Cuba/U.S. relations here). From the conversations I did have with people I would meet, they have no problems with Americans. It’s our government they don’t always agree with.

Misconception #2: “Cuba Isn’t Safe For Tourists!”

Again, so not true. I probably felt the safest there compared to other places I have visited in the U.S. Before I left for my trip, I joked with a friend (who was skeptical and worried about me going) that I would probably be safer there, in an unfamiliar place, than I was in Philly. Isn’t that a darn shame? Unlike PA, where gun laws are loose and everyone seems to be armed to the teeth, it is illegal for Cuban citizens to own firearms. Even though our group operated on the buddy system while we were there, I never felt unsafe. We were warned about potential pick-pocketing, which was never an issue. As long as you kept your head on a swivel and weren’t careless, there was nothing to worry about. I exercised the same amount of caution I would at home. Just don’t be naïve!!

Misconception #3: “Americans Aren’t Allowed to Go to Cuba.”

Another exaggeration. Don’t get me wrong, there was a point where it was more difficult for Americans to travel there. I remember back in the day when I was an undergrad student, there were only a few designations you could travel under. My former alma mater would host educational programs there for an exorbitant fee. Now, travel there isn’t as restricted and there are about 12 or 13 different designations you can choose from. You will also need to get a tourist visa, which you can obtain at the airport the day of your flight. My group chose “support for the Cuban people” as our reason for going there (go here for more information for what that entails). Essentially, travelling under this category allows Americans to travel to Cuba with the intention of having meaningful connection with the Cuban people and to support them directly. We couldn’t stay in or spend money in any government backed or owned businesses, hotels, restaurants, etc. I’ll delve more into that when I launch the travel section of the blog, where I’ll get into the nitty gritty of “do’s” and “don'ts”. Overall, I loved my time there. I only wish that I could’ve stayed a little longer.

Misconception #4: “The U.S. Embargo is to Blame for Widespread Poverty in Cuba”

The best way to respond when people make this blanket statement, laying all the blame on the U.S. for Cuba’s problems is to say “it’s complicated” and is much more nuanced than one would think. One can’t deny that any embargo imposed by a developed country onto a developing country can have a negative impact on it’s overall growth. When I spoke with some of the locals we encountered about how they viewed the U.S.’s role in some of the challenges they experience, most have acknowledged that the majority of their problems are homegrown. Many of the policies imposed on the people by their government could be seen as restrictive in one way or another. Communism is still a major part of Cuban life. Many of the people you see driving taxi’s, working in the restaurant industry, serving as tour guides also have advanced degrees. Many have to work a side hustle to make ends meet. The fact that a waiter relying mostly on tips can make more than a doctor there is extremely telling. Also, you have to keep in mind that they relied on Russia for many imported goods but due to the war in Ukraine, the supply chain was and still is negatively impacted. Just like everywhere in the world, inflation is giving everyone a run for their money, forcing Cubans to have to spend a whole lot more for basic necessities, causing them to have to ration items that are scarce. These are just a few of the barriers that Cubans face when it comes to continued development and prosperity of their people.

Misconception #5: “Cubans Aren’t Allowed to Leave Cuba.”

This is another fallacy. Though it can be difficult for everyday Cubans to get up and relocate, the major barrier they face is getting enough funds to secure their travel outside of the country. We met with a handful of folks who have never left the island and their reasons for not leaving were vast. One reason I heard constantly was that despite life being difficult for them at home, going into the unknown is too much of a gamble. For many, life in Cuba is all they know. Regardless of the struggles they may encounter on a daily basis, they still take great pride in their culture, in their way of life and have poured so much into cultivating their homes and lands. It’s not so easy to just walk away from it all.

La Habana, Te Amo (Havana, I Love You)

It’s been a full day since I got back from my trip to Cuba. Still haven’t processed the full extent of the magical experiences I had there with our travel group. I hadn’t been back a full day yet when I started to plan for the next time I’ll get to return (aiming for next Spring). Can’t wait for another chance for my feet to touch those cobblestone streets as I take in all the sights, indulge in the delicious food and libations and to get to rub elbows with all the warm and welcoming people. All the rhythmic sounds and music were like a soundtrack to our time there. The culture is strong and evident in all aspects of everyday life. All I can say is that there is no place like Havana.

As I sat on the beach in Varadero (a small beach & resort town) on our 4th day in Cuba, my mind started to drift to all of the places we hadn’t gotten to explore. Even though I was looking forward to getting back to the creature comforts of home, there was a part of me that was sad that our time was coming to an end. Those who know me know I’m not really a “beach person”. I had a couple canisters of SPF 50+ sunscreen in my bag at all times just in case. No matter how much I sprayed on, I still ended up with sunburn and heat rashes. Well, on this particular day, I didn’t care much about that. Relaxation was the goal as I laid under the beach umbrella and tree. The sea breeze and scent filled my nostrils and lungs, rendering me immobile. All I wanted to do was lay in mother nature’s bosom, letting her envelope me in her warm embrace. Each wave that hit the beach was a reminder of why it is important to unplug every now and then. My body felt right at home and I didn’t want to move or leave.

Being in the island nation where communism is still very much alive and well, the war raging in eastern Europe and the embargo that the U.S. has against the country, has forced folks to get used to going off the grid and to make do with very little. My phone was practically useless for the most part. Cuba isn’t supported by most U.S. mobile international plans. Roaming would’ve cost me an arm and a leg. Even with me buying a SIM card there to use, service could be spotty at times. I was forced to stay “logged off” most of my time there and it honestly felt really good. I was reminded not to let the everyday mundane stresses bog me down to a point where I constantly need an escape, always needing to run away when life starts to do too much. My friend, who organized the trip and whose birthday we were celebrating (the reason for the trip) and I were hatching future plans for how we can one day get our slices of paradise, homes away from home, where we can make this type of rejuvenation a constant thing.

This trip was a long time coming, history in the making. Cuba was always number one on my list of places to visit. I thought that my first time traveling there would be with a significant other but the universe had other plans. I had already started telling friends and co-workers that I was only going to travel in the states for 2024 and save all major trips for 2025 and then this opportunity fell into my lap. Life is short and tomorrow isn’t promised. I thought to myself, “don’t put off what I can get done today”. The plans for this trip came together so seamlessly, mainly because my friend did all the planning. All I had to do was just pay. Normally, I’m the one planning all of the details of a trip and it was refreshing not having to do that this time around. So much energy goes into planning a trip like this. What made it also seem so seamless was that we had a tour guide that handled all of the logistics for us and who went above and beyond to ensure that our time in Cuba was well spent.

The Cuban people have had to deal with so many limitations (i.e., rationing of food and resources, which I’ll discuss more in depth in a later post) but you wouldn’t know it. Like the people I encountered when I visited Haiti, the Cuban people are also really welcoming and hospitable. Everyone seemed really easygoing and happy. I loved how expressive everyone was. They were polite with a hint of matter of fact-ness (don’t take their kindness for granted). Everyone was so expressive and affectionate. The men were chivalrous and thoughtful. They are a passionate people, both in their speech and in their actions. When I was out and about, I had men and women alike call me “Hermosa” (means “beautiful”) and they’d gently touch my shoulder or arm lovingly as we’d pass each other and it was never inappropriate. Back in Philly, a random stranger touching you would’ve been viewed as an invasion of personal space and may have warranted a tongue-lashing or a fight. “Hola” and “Buenos Dias” were common greetings and it was easy to make fast friends. There was never a moment where I didn’t feel safe, regardless of the time of day.

I haven’t posted to the blog in a while and it’s been long overdue. I have so much to unpack from my trip that I’d like to share in several more posts, so be on the lookout for those soon. I plan to launch a “travel” section to this blog where I’ll post tips, recommendations and photos/videos of experiences had. What better way and time to launch it then with this trip. I look forward to going deeper into all that I experienced with hopes that you’ll be enticed to want to explore those places too. I’ve missed connecting with you here. Life has been a little hectic for me lately and I miss the consistency of blogging to keep me grounded and connected. Now that I am back stateside, I plan to get back on track.

We Need Each Other

One thing I can say I have gleaned from all of the content I watched while I was sick was that we all need each other, despite our denial and what the “innanets” try to depict. I’m annoyed with this war against the sexes. Men throwing their masculinity around and women throwing around their femininity, battling out who is the more important asset in relationships. Both wearing these concepts like badges, Red pill, pink pill, hypogamy, hypergamy, misogyny and misandry. The constant tug of war between the two genders is exhausting to watch and listen to. For those of us who are sitting on the sidelines, taking it all in, it leads us to draw the conclusion that men and women don’t seem to like each other much, despite all the commentary about the other. Under all of the posturing, all I see is ego. No one wants to admit that we truly need each other and folks would rather let a good thing go and claim an empty victory than to admit that “nobody wins when the family feuds”.

I see all of these concepts play out in these dating streets. Armed with a new toolkit, I am more discerning as I rifle through profile after profile. There is a big difference between being confident and being cocky and/or a complete a-hole. Why don’t some men understand this? It’s almost like they want to offend you at the onset. I find myself critically combing through, looking for red flags. No more excusing away clear evidence of what could be categorized as narcissism. I’ve been in many conversations with women about their experiences as well. Everyone is quick to label men as narcisisst’s. I don’t deny that they could be narcs. However, if you’re not a psychiatrist who is referring to the DSM-5 to diagnose individuals, I would refrain from slapping that label on anyone so loosely. Let alone someone who you didn’t connect with, expressed disinterest, may have ghosted you or was just being a shitty person. I think what a lot of us women can say is that we see a whole lot of selfishness from these men. Many which lack self-awareness and have delusions of grandeur. Someone can lack integrity and have no social skills. It doesn’t make them a sociopath (another label I see being thrown around very loosely). There seems to be an excessive amount of men who just don’t get it. I’m sure men could say the same about some women out here but I wouldn’t know.

I am tip-toeing back into the battlefield, cautiously. I’m not entertaining any dates yet, mainly because I’ve been sick, the weather has been crummy and I’m honestly not in a real rush to meet anyone new yet. I am serious when I say that I am looking to build a foundation of friendship. No more tumbling into all-encompassing romances that’ll run the risk of fizzling out quickly. No more showing all of my cards while the other party plays games and manipulates. Not entertaining love-bombing because I have more than enough love in my life. I’m not thirsty or starving for it. We all can use more love in our lives, don’t get me wrong. I just don’t need it to the point where I will compromise my morals and good judgment to have it. Literally, I will have to hear the voice of God (cue in Moses and the burning bush) to get me to move quickly on anyone without the proper vetting. Especially now that I know my fertility status, I don’t have this biological clock ticking overhead and forcing me to act too hastily. If it’s meant to be it’ll be.

If I see another profile where a man is claiming that he “is the whole table”, I may run away screaming from these apps. Why is it that when a slogan goes viral and becomes trendy, folks glom on to it with a crypt keeper’s death grip? Can we please retire this notion in 2024? What’s so bad about admitting that both parties bring value to a relationship? What’s so hard about saying that we are both integral to the fabric of what could grow to be something beautiful? In that same breath, I’ll see the same men talking about going 50/50, not wanting gold diggers, and listing out what they are not going to do for a woman. And yet, these will be the same guys who put that they are CEOs, bosses and even putting in their inflated titles in their bios and descriptions. Is that supposed to be bait for the women you claim not to want? Make up your darn minds already! If you look up economic statistics and demographics in the U.S., especially amongst black men and women, it’s the women that are making real bank, especially when you look location-specific. Women are being coached to not lead with money to avoid emasculating the men. So which is it? They claim that they don’t want to be used for their “money” (let’s be honest, 90% of us are considered the working poor), so why lead with it? There are women who don’t care about that but some men lead with it because they know that’s all they have to offer. Just like some men could say that all certain women have to offer is what’s between their legs and/or their beauty. All of the messaging that’s being transmitted out there is so confusing and misleading.

Can all the a-holes, gold diggers, dishonest, emotionally unavailable and ill-intentioned people be put on an island somewhere to duke it out? Leave the rest of us who really want genuine love and relationship to work together and build. I wish there was such a filter on these apps so I could know who not to waste my effort on. I told my therapist a couple months ago that I want help fixing my picker, so I acknowledge that I am a work-in-progress. One thing I’ve come to realize about myself is that I was disillusioned at an early age. Blame it partly on the Disney fairy tales I was fed or the relationships I grew up watching unfold before my eyes. I really only have my parents and their generation to look up to as an example. Love for them was spiritual, it was dutiful and it was built on legacy. There is a selflessness to it that I’ve always admired. So much so that I took what I learned with me to into my relationships. I treated those relationships like I was living out marriage vows (i.e., “in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer”). Problem was, I was trying to give that to men who mostly didn’t have those same virtues, so what I was ready to fight for, they weren’t. They hadn’t earned that level of loyalty from me. While I am only looking for one good man, the men seem to operate like there’s so many women out there to pick from so they don’t mind a revolving door. I call cap on it though. Why would so many of them still be single if there are so many options for them out there? I am no longer fooled by that notion.

I had an acquaintance recently tell me that a mutual friend I used to talk to was asking for me. I asked her “why?” When he had access to me, he fumbled me. What point is there to ask about me now after all this time? She admitted that he questions whether I “was the one who got away”. I know women who would’ve heard that and it would’ve stroked their ego. They would’ve been quick to say “Ha! He realizes I was the bomb.com. Look at me now…(as they brush their shoulders off)” Instead, hearing that news made me sad. It made me sad because I was so optimistic about what we could’ve had but he was so awful that it only contributed to my jadedness at the time. And now, years later, to hear that he’s expressed regret only saddens me and annoys me lowkey. Why did we need to have that negative experience? I would’ve respected him more if he had simply said he wasn’t ready or was going in a different direction. Instead, he disappeared into thin air. He could’ve died for all I knew. There’s something jarring about sharing space and time with someone, then having them disappear without a trace. My trust was eroded and it only made me less likely to give the next guy a chance. Less likely to want to be vulnerable. There’s so many broken vessels roaming around and some may never be put back together right after being mishandled and mistreated. I’ve healed mostly from those experiences and grow hopeful for what’s to come but I think about the time wasted trying to put myself back together after every let down. It’s exhausting.

I say all of this to say that I am not ashamed to admit that I want connectedness. We all do. I just wish we’d stop fronting like we don’t want it. That’s a good starting point: being open to connecting deeply. When did it become cool to not “give a F#@%”? That slogan needs to be retired as well. Let’s remove our presence from those who would drop us like a bag of trash on the side of the road. The minute I start to feel expendable, I will remove myself. I still believe there are many people out here ready and willing to do the work. Like they say, the “grass is greener where you water it”. We are all prizes, not this one-sided notion that we need to compete for the affections of another because they are better than us. The same way I am willing show up for someone, I expect the same. To put a spiritual aspect on it, when I am down, I want someone to show up for me undoubtedly, and vice versa. When I am weak and I’m not able to lift my prayers up, who can be my voice? Who will be my advocate and my champion? I can emphatically ask for that because I know I can give it as well. I see this dynamic played out with my parents. My mother is in her difficult season now. I’ve seen her falter and give up. My father has been a beacon in her life. Seeing his strength keeps me going and shows me the meaning of unconditional love. Beauty fades, muscles can melt away, fortunes can be lost ten times over and health can decline. Long lasting love, friendship and duty shall remain. Real love heals and stands the test of time. If we could only be so lucky to taste a fraction of that undying and unwavering love, that is the ultimate prize.

Belated Cheers to the New Year

When I returned to Philly from Boston several weeks ago, I was physically, emotionally and mentally spent. I should’ve seen the incoming sickness then. How could I not have seen it coming? All the necessary ingredients to foster the growth of something viral were present in the days leading up to the first symptoms. I got back just in time for NYE but wanted to keep things lowkey, so I had two of my closest PA gal pals over last minute for endless appetizers and libations in our pajamas, chatting into the wee hours of the night while some smooth jazz and holiday music played in the background. I didn’t want to ring in the new year solo but I didn’t want too much sensory overload with a crowd of people either, considering the trip home I had just returned from. I definitely had enough food to entertain an army but that was a result of my eyes being bigger than my stomach (in the words of my mom. This is why you shouldn’t go food shopping hungry). I didn’t want us to be without anything and even had meat marinating in the fridge in addition, ready to be grilled in case our appetites got the best of us. I had a slew of sappy movies queued up for us to partake in, but we never got around to them. We ended our chatter just in time to watch the ball drop in NYC, on tv.

The night was an overall success and the conversations continued as we discussed goals for the new year (no more resolutions). I still had some organizing and cleaning to do and thought I would resume doing so on the 1st. One of my friend’s reminded me to leave the cleaning for the 2nd instead if I don’t want to spend the whole year doing so (there’s a superstition that whatever you end up doing on the 1st of the year, you’ll be doing all year round). I wasn’t in the mood to prepare Soup Joumou (Haitian Pumkin Soup that all Haitians have on the 1st in celebration of our independence) either and had planned instead to order it and have it delivered. Well, mother nature had other plans. I awoke the following morning, on News Year’s and Haitian Independence Day, feeling like I had been hit. I was aching, my head was heavy and I had a tickle in my throat. I honestly thought it was fatigue from my long commute back to PA and the subsequent hosting of my friends for NYE, with minimal rest in between. It definitely wasn’t a hangover considering all I had was some red wine and “alcohol-removed” champagne for our toast the night before. I remembered that I hadn’t really rested since I ended work the afternoon of the 22nd. I had been on go for the whole month, went away to visit family, still on level 10 and returned to put on some more. I finally listened to my body and rested in place. I ended up curled up in a ball, in the fetal position on my couch all day, hoping that if I rested whatever sickness I was starting to feel would go away. Well, it only got worse as the days went by. I tested several times for COVID and it kept coming back negative. The body aches, congestion, nausea and coughing got progressively worse. Now that I seem to be on the other side of it, I realize I probably had the flu. Mind you, I went in to work a few days when I thought I was on the mend, only to have to finally take some sick time to medicate and rest. For the most part, I worked remotely from the bedside which I probably needed to stop as well. There was so much to do the first week, so I couldn’t turn my brain all the way off.

I had so many plans NYE weekend and week. I didn’t get to record a new episode of the podcast which was due out on the 31st, but I was leaving it for the 1st (until I got sick and continued to sound like I had a frog in my throat). As you can see, I hadn’t posted to the blog since I returned. Luckily, the majority of my cleaning was done before I left for Christmas break and when I got back on NYE eve, so there is minimal left to do, thank goodness. The one thing I have been able to do though is load up on my content consumption and boy, do I have a lot to say and respond to. As I laid up resting these past few weeks, I watched marathons of true crime YouTube episodes. Not because I wanted to, initially. The algorithm would play episodes back to back on a loop and I was too tired to change the programs and before I knew it, I was hooked (I think I’m back to being spooked about online dating lol). I saw the viral Club Shay Shay interview with Katt Williams and all the subsequent video responses, interviews and commentary revolving around all the people he named. I had the unfortunate opportunity to see Simone Biles’ husband interview and commentary with her husband claiming to be “the prize” and all the takes from the manosphere, red and pink pill communities. Gosh, I have so much to say about it (maybe I’ll make it a podcast topic). I binged watched various Netflix shows and movies, watched a slew of random strangers weddings on YT, watched the Stephen A. Smith rant towards Jason Whitlock (there’s something about the way he kept calling him a “P.O.S.” that tickled me) saw endless videos of Deltas crossing (I guess their founding anniversary was this week), which lead me down a rabbit hole to compare the different chapters, then compare them to the AKAs (sorry AKAs, Deltas got you beat). My favorite content was all the Amapiano DJ sets from around the world, the new Dave Chappelle Netflix special, all the whimsical home tours of people I don’t know giving me more home decor ideas. All of the content I consumed either had me in fits of laughter, intrigued, sad and scared (true crime content on YT might be too much on the psyche) and crying tears of joy for all the couples getting married and watching the joyous occasions of them being celebrated and loved on by their loved ones.

All of this was balanced by all the news I was consuming too. I usually pride myself on regulating the amount of news I take in. Since I was a recluse for most of the time, I couldn’t help but wanting to know all that was happening in the world. Despite it being the new year, nothing has changed much. The world is still a hot mess globally. The “war” is still raging, casualties are continuing to pile up and more conflicts are brewing in the midst of it all. The weather has been showing it’s derriere on the East Coast and gearing up to wreak more havoc on our lives in the coming week. As I look over to my home town, at the Bastion of academic freedom I once used to be affiliated with, the “powers that be” were finally successful in getting rid of it’s first Black woman and Haitian president. No longer can it tout that it lets freedom ring in its halls. It’s the donors that reign supreme. This news also signals the true death of DE&I as we know it. There has been a constant attack on it for a while now but for it to happen in the bluest of blue states, at an institution that has charged itself as being a trailblazer in the world of academia, speaks volumes. I now look to its nearby cousin, which shares the same city name, to see if it will suffer the same fate.

I remain hopeful that this month won’t be a precursor of more shenanigans to come. With MLK day tomorrow, I vow to serve myself more for once. That’s what this year should encompass. My getting sick felt like the universe’s way of slowing me down on purpose to truly reflect on my needs. I am in the throws of preparing for a bucket list trip coming up in the next few weeks. It wasn’t in my plans several months ago, but the way it materialized was surreal and as all the pieces of it started to fall into place, it felt like kismet. It was a location I was hoping to explore with my future significant other but what 2023 taught me is to continue to live life to its fullest and take chances when they present themselves. So that’s what I plan to do this year: to live and love fully. No more chasing the thrills but embracing them as they come. Living and loving intentionally. Opening myself to broader horizons. No more holding on to limiting beliefs. Instead, I’m embracing and setting myself up to receive, abundantly. No more one-sided relationships and situations. Reciprocation is where it’s at.

Leaving the Effery in 2023

If you couldn’t already tell by the title, I am so ready to go home lol. I almost made it through my trip without any issues. The common stressors were there but none that were too unbearable to deal with. What I didn’t anticipate was the unpredictability of familial interactions gone awry. I was determined to be the calm in any brewing storms and to channel my inner mindfulness guru who shares profound reflections whenever situations start to go left. For most of my time visiting with family, I was that. That is, until days 3 and 4. Something about that third morning wasn’t feeling right, which should’ve been an indicator to walk away or to redirect my energy. I finally reached my boiling point and found myself drawing some hard lines in the sand.

This time, when folks went low, groveled in the mud and slung it, I went scorched earth. The difference between me and an “opponent” is while they may thrive on the adrenaline rush and the back and forth arguing, I leave the interactions feeling drained and disappointed that I allowed myself to stoop to their level and go toe to toe, tit for tat. I see red, which leaves me frustrated because I pride myself on keeping it together. There’s only a select few people (and by “select few”, I mean 2) on this earth who know which buttons to press to get me from 0 to 100. In those instances on this trip, I realized that there were concerted efforts to garner a negative reaction from me and to get me to dim my light.

What I have come to realize is just because someone is your kin does not mean they want to see you shine and thrive. What you may view as your attempts to pull all those around you up may be viewed with animosity. No one wants to be reminded that they aren’t producing or holding their share of the weight. I go out of my way not to point that out. Sometimes, when others see you simply “being” and “doing” in what they would consider a shorter timespan than it would normally take them to accomplish something, it breeds feelings of resentment. Sadly, some folks would rather no one benefit from your efforts than to be called out for not stepping up to the plate. I don’t harp and point out what others aren’t doing, I just show up and “do”. Even that can be seen as threatening. Have I sworn off visits to see my family after this? The short answer is “no”. However, like all other things I got going on, I have to be more intentional about how I spend time with those “select few”. Not all need to have full access to me.

Before I came to visit my family, I had set the intention that my time with them would be fun-filled, light and airy. The majority of my previous visits had been so emotionally taxing, strenuous and serious. It felt like I was carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders each time I’d be in town. There has been an unhealthy dynamic that has existed for decades in my family: I have been dubbed the “responsible” one and because of that, all the family business and more serious duties fall to me to handle. I am the one you go to when you have to offload your burdens, even when I’m not in the position mentally, emotionally and physically to receive them. Every time I would come home, I had to be 4 different people, having to compartmentalize who I was depending on who I was with (friends, parents, siblings, nieces/nephews and/or a significant other). I had to play a different role for each, having to sometimes hide the sad and frustrated parts of me because I didn’t want to do to anyone what was done to me. Well, that wasn’t sustainable and my needs were constantly going unmet.

I cannot continue to maintain this level of dysfunction. How do you not crack under the weight of it all? While I’m running around, trying to solve everyone else’s problems, playing mediator for situations that have nothing to do with me, I am reminded that I don’t have someone to be that for me. I wasn’t able to meet everyone’s needs on their timelines (given that I am only around for 5 days), and I remember having one relative say “I thought you came here to help me out?”, not taking into consideration all that I have had to deal with. I haven’t had a moments rest since arriving. I went on a mini rant (provoked by the stresses I had to deal with since arriving), and had to let it be known that I cannot break myself into a million pieces to be everything for everyone. This role I have been cast to play in the family dynamic isn’t sustainable. Also, just because I have been cast in it doesn’t mean I need to play the role. Unfortunately, my saying “no” and preserving myself from time to time is viewed more harshly than those who don’t step up at all. The disparities are glaring.

There are 3 days left in the year and I am determined to leave all that didn’t serve me or meant me no good in the yesteryear. No more setting myself on fire to keep others warm. No more running myself into the ground when my body and soul is calling for rest. Gone are the days where I take time off, only to turn around and do more labor. No more “keeping that same energy” with those whose goal is to bring me down. I got a text last night from a friend back in PA who I don’t hear from often. When I do hear from him, it’s always to check in on me to see if I’m doing okay. I have a friend here who plays that role as well. She texted me around the same time. Both their messages were timely and encouraging. The one thing I realized is that both of them play similar roles in their families so they see and sense it in others. I embark on my journey back home soon and look forward to being back in my element. I cannot wait for real R&R to begin.