Sometime our “becoming” is more like an unfolding than a blossoming. Moving to LA I fully expected to bloom, very obviously, in full view. Because that’s what social media tells you to expect. It bids you to accept perfection as normal in every avenue of life.
Was it worth it to continually pour myself out in service of others? I wanted to write a post to summarize the last ten years on my birthday but hesitated because this wasn’t a question I could even answer for myself. To be honest, up until yesterday, I was leaning towards no. No, it’s not worth it. It’s too much.
When Ahmaud Arbery was murdered on what should have been a routine run, when Breonna Taylor was murdered in her sleep by a bullet she couldn’t see coming, when George Floyd was strangled in broad daylight in a busy street, I could not uphold the strong tower image I had created around racism and its effect on me and my family. So I didn’t.
I knew this feeling. I could feel my machine-like legs begin to tense as my big toe dug into the bottom of my shoe as if it we’re collecting all the energy I possibly stored in my form. With a deep breath I tightened my core while my mind instructed my body to convert potential energy into kinetic.
We met in the breakroom and exchanged playful jabs while expertly debating which breakfast beverage of choice was best: coffee or tea? I didn’t think he was anything extra special, I just thought he was funny and bold, a nice breath of fresh air from the guys I’d chosen to set my intentions on. And truth be told, I needed a Jack.*
In that time, I started writing a book, started a new job, moved to a new apartment, and started serving in my church. And honestly it felt sooo good. I knew God had me right where I was made to be.
Que record scratch.
I write and perform poetry.
Well not really perform but mostly write.
I haven’t always been ready to share my poetry on this blog primarily because it usually doesn’t always follow a set structure so reading it can be a little dry. So I never mentioned it. That’s until July 2019 when I decided to record, shoot, and edit my poems into videos that you would be able to watch. After a lot of work, procrastination, and hyping myself up, I finally finished the video and would love to share my writing with you through video!
I waited for my daddy on our front porch, eager to etch his face in my memory. He had only been back home for two months, yet still I felt a determined urgency to study his face and link the person whom I loved in the corners of my mind for the past two years with the person in front of me. My brothers, Curtis and John, who were too young to really remember a time with dad, sat on the stoop comparing matchbox cars and fighting over the best piece of sidewalk to race them.
Last year I wrote a pretty solid list of 7 Things Post Twenty-five Singles Need Their Married Friends to Know. And to be honest, over the past year I’ve encountered so many different situations I feel there is so much more that needs to be addressed. So for all you millennial married folk, here are 7 more things we singles need you to know.
“I learned to love myself, I was able to finally sit down and think about what I wanted in my life- not what my family wanted, my boyfriend, my friends, but ME. What were my dreams and goals I didn’t even dare to think of accomplishing?”
That moment was when those cute butterflies became lead weights in my stomach and I froze. I would prefer to say I blackout and vaguely remember what happened next but I would be lying. I remember everything exactly.
By my sophomore year in high school I knew that I wanted to be the president of our marching band. Something about that position of leadership was appealing to me. As a result, my sophomore leadership novice self began to listen and watch the current leaders hoping to determine what I needed to do in […]
Stunned, and not wanting to alert my classmates of the internal crisis I was now experiencing, I gritted my teeth and pulled out the hair right there. Needless to say, I wasn’t prepared, immediately thought I was the only girl who experienced this, and walked to my dorm mourning my face because, of course, this meant I would need to reconsider my career path as a soon to be bearded lady (which never happened).
Do you ever wonder why you are the way you are? Why you cant ever seem to talk to that boy? Today we discuss and explore our differing personalities and how this plays out in real life. 5:48 Strengths and Weaknessess 10:29 Do we know you? 26:48 Relationships
Lets be real though, if you know me, you know I’m not perfect. *gasp*
No one is; I understand that…in theory. But I still fear failure in the day to day. Being the internal perfectionist that I am for as long as I can remember, failure has never been comfortable (not that it’s welcomed by the general population; I guess i have a particular aversion to it). It’s just not fun.
I am an outgoing introvert. It sounds like an oxymoron.
Over the course of my life, I’ve found my internal balance between both sides are so close that it becomes tricky when my friends try to understand me or when meeting new friends. Thankfully, I’m not the only one. I’ve met a good number of friends who think similarly. And in an effort to explain the complexities of us outgoing introverts, here are a few things you need to know about your extroverted introvert friends.
Post Twenty-five Life 