Everything has a start. A beginning. A point where it wasn't and then it was. I once watched a movie… a romantic comedy no doubt… about a young lady who really wanted to become a writer but didn't yet have a draft of anything to be published. After a much too familiar romantic comedy plot, one thing stood out to me about this particular Netflix movie was when the writer finally finished her draft she was so excited because she had something to build on. She actually started the thing she wanted in her life. It may not have been perfect but at least she took a step. Something to build on… somet ..read more

Fear That word fear is one of the most powerful four-letter words. Fear is unique to everyone. No one fear of things is alike. Fear is controlling. One thing that I admire about children is that they are fearless. I have witnessed infants more concerned with reaching for a toy more than the consideration of gravity. In the same example, I have seen fear rule every action of his mother. Adjusting every aspect of their lives in fear of being a neglectful parent. Where does fear start? Just like hate, I believe that fear is taught. As I reflect on my committed relationship with fear, I don’t know ..read more

,,Every one of us was once a little girl and we all have that same little girl deep down inside waiting for us to notice her. Think back to when you were a little girl. At what point did you learn that something about you was "different" or maybe "not as____ as____"? When did you first realize hurt and pain existed? And now ask yourself when did you ever take time to heal? Pause “Take a moment to actually think about your life. Think all the way back to the last time you were happy and whole and at peace.” Take a few moments to actually think about your life. Think back to the last time you a ..read more

Can somebody, anybody tell me when being mom became synonymous with “i have no flippin idea who I am anymore because my days are filled with looking for things I didnt lose and scheduling things for people I dont even like half the time?” Recently a friend told me to watch Sex/Life on Netflix and as I am watching the show it felt like someone had taken a page from my mental diary (because writing down some of those thoughts on paper would leave too much evidence) and made it play out on the big screen. I seriously felt like there should be someone I could call to tell them that they had stolen ..read more

Yesterday we rented an oversized bouncy slip and slide with dual slides for the kids. It is hot. We are quarantined. The virus is real. Kid boredom is more real. So why not? My teenager asked to invite over 2 friends who have also been under quarantine and I obliged. My 8-year-old only has 1 friend so he was allowed over as well. I made hubby promise to make an appearance to appease the kids and since it was good old family fun we even included our bulldog who was less than amused by the fun. I went to Target to get a swimsuit because of the way my “Coronabody” is set up, I did not already hav ..read more

Have you ever felt broken? I mean broken broken. Like nothing is working broken. Like an old toy that needs more the batteries broken. Menopause has hit. You look in the mirror and the evidence of its invasion is all over your face and the backs of your arms. The bags under your eyes from not sleeping are large enough to carry a six-pack and a roll of Bounty extra-thick paper towels and you can’t remember from one room to the next why you came in there and what you needed. Broken. I find myself a lot quieter lately. Silently waiting for the answers to solving my brokenness to somehow come floa ..read more

After reading the book “The Four Agreements” one of the most poignant points was about us, people, being careful what we put out into the universe because what we put out is what we agree with. He also spoke to being careful how we allow others to speak to us and about us because if we are not careful, the words they speak can attach to us and can also become things we unconsciously agree with. I finished the book and went on with my life. Slowly but surely, the points in this chapter, in particular, started to tap me on my shoulder and remind me of some of the things I have agreed with over ..read more

We were slaves. We were freed. That's all behind us. I hung black history in a 5 x 7 frame on the wall of our home. It was to be passed by - floating in a sea of smiles. It was not to be taken in but rather to be stumbled upon in curiosity. As a mom, I struggled with giving my kids the complete picture - knowing full well that painting it would require a canvas so large and sturdy, not even a museum, a morgue, a church, and a hill could contain it. Truthfully, the sky would be the only thing big enough to hold the painful triumph and exhausting struggle. We sat down, as many of you, to watch t ..read more

I don't know what day or what was even going on that day, but I distinctly remember thinking to myself, how did I get here? Let me clarify. Yes, I got married, had children, and have a career. I have also participated in enduring relationships with friends and co-workers. The real question is, how did these things happen, and over time, I feel less and less myself? Where did that fearless, optimistic person go? I know she is in here somewhere under all of the protective layers of “experience.” The experience of a mother, wife, child of an aging parent, a go-to person at work, taxi, cook, team ..read more

The world has taught us as Black women that we have to do it all. That somehow it is normal for us to balance all of our lives and the lives of our children and husbands and significant others while neglecting ourselves. We feel selfish if we dare take some time to get our hair done or make ourselves a dinner we would really like to eat. If we get to the register and the bill is higher than expected the first thing we do it put back the thing we were getting for ourselves. Where did this come from? Who told us to be a “good” mom meant we had to be tired all of the time? Who told us that there ..read more