Setting the Tone

Overall, my trip was a success. Got to spend time with some of my peeps and fam, got to feed my craving for my fave Mexican food spot (still can’t believe me and the gals were there for 6+ hours), got to celebrate with extended family (and meet new family) at my cousin’s baby shower and spent some quality time with my mom. Four to five days staying with family is the magic number before I start to lose it a little lol. I tried not to overwhelm myself too much and didn’t beat myself up for not seeing everyone this go round. There is always next time.

After my long return commute on Sunday, I was reminded why I don’t like travelling on the weekend. I normally would travel on a weekday since the drive is so much smoother, but for “team cohesion”, I was trying to be back in the office on Monday. I ended up encountering traffic in every state. What should’ve been a 5 hour drive back was well over 7 hours, which had me arriving later that night. It didn’t help that I filled up on gas in MA and didn’t have to make any stops to refill and to stretch the whole drive back, so my body still aches. Leaving in the afternoon instead of early morning also didn’t help. I wanted to see mom dukes one more time. We ended up having a really good conversation and catch up while I served her lunch. There’s something about her hugs now that are so nourishing. I’m reminded how much I don’t get to hold or touch her. The distance and her current circumstance doesn’t allow for that, so I wanted to soak it all up, and it didn’t matter how late I left.

I was determined to start the work week right, despite my fatigue. I normally meal prep on Sunday night but instead Door Dashed. Luckily, I was due another cheat meal, so I didn’t feel too bad. I didn’t stay up long after, as I turned in earlier than usual for the night. I laid awake for a bit but once I turned the tv on, I was out shortly after and the tv was watching me. Since I didn’t get to do all of my prep that night, I had a late start to my Monday at work. After struggling to get through the work day, with my eyes half open the whole time, I am reminded that I am no good to myself or anyone when I’m not well rested and organized for the week. I was determined to get it right the next day.

Usually, after a long day’s work, I rush home with my music blaring in the car, eager to plop down on my couch and engage in mindless tv, until I remember to eat something hours later. This week, I was determined to change my routine. For the past week, I’ve been starting with silence in the car, both in the morning on the way to work (to set my intentions for the day and pray) and in the evening after work, trying to process the day’s events. It’s only after doing this that I then either turn on my music or tune in to my favorite podcasts. The types of content I consume does matter for getting and keeping my mind right, so I’ve been very selective about what I listen to. I’ve been in this learning phase, so I’ll usually turn to “Diary of A CEO”, “The Friend Zone” or “The Read” for the most part. There are countless others that I stumble upon, but there are too many to list here. If I want to zone out a bit, I’ll turn on my favorite tunes, usually upbeat with catchy tempos that keep me pumped up for my rides to and from work. Thank goodness for the Amapiano genre!

Once I’m home, I try to shift to chill mode so I’ll continue listening to podcasts while I prepare dinner. I also have this habit of keeping little notebooks around in case I want to jot down any ideas or thoughts that come to mind that I’d either like to revisit or expound upon later. Once dinner is ready, that’s when I’ll turn on the tv. It’s either YouTube, Netflix or Max for me and I’m always looking for short-form content. Don’t want to chill out too long in front of the tv, pass out asleep on the couch and wake up in the wee hours of the night in a stupor, unable to go back to sleep. After partaking in some short clips of content, I’m up again resuming the wind down for the night. I put my phone on the charger and forget about it, moving on to my “me” activities.

Since I’ve been doing more blogging and developing my podcast, I’ll dedicate some time each evening to my hobbies. Many people will get home and continue their 9-5 work. I get home these days and I engage in activities for me. I believe that if I’m not pouring into myself in some way, I will resent all the time spent doing things for others. I used to see projects as overarching and all-encompassing, having me feeling like I never had enough time to accomplish much in moving them forward. What seems to be working these days is me setting mini goals. These are a series of smaller goals within a larger one. For example, instead of setting a “to-do” task of posting 1-2 blog posts a week and dedicating one night for each post, I’ll break the task down to smaller goals. Instead, I’ll have a goal of typing up 2 paragraphs minimum a day, until a post is complete. Instead of burning 2 whole nights just blogging, I’ll spread the work across the whole week. Doing this allows me to do other tasks like research for the new pod, prep for my upcoming class work and checking personal email.

Once those tasks are done, the wind down continues. I wash the day off of me, change into some comfortable duds and put together a playlist of content to watch in the comfort of my bedroom, just in case I’m having a hard time turning all the way down. By my bedside, I keep any books I have been reading lately, a journal or 2 to continue writing and my laptop in case I get the urge to create more content. I end up not needing any of those distractions because before I know it, I am out like a light. My sleep is more restful, I wake up more energized and prepared to take on the new day. We’ll see how long this new routine will continue to work.

Can Love Grow Without Friendship?

As I’m gearing up to return to the hustle and bustle of city life, I’m trying to do an inventory of what my needs are for the upcoming week. Trying to set my intentions with the hope that writing my goals for this week down and seeing them in writing will motivate me to take action to accomplish them. This also helps so I don’t get too overwhelmed and can stay focused on what the priorities are. As I end my time away, I’m eager to get back on my grind, get back to normal. There is so much I have yet to do, so I’m planning ahead. The new year is right around the corner, and I’m trying to be proactive about all the things I want to accomplish before then. On December 31st, I want to be excited to enter into 2024, instead of feeling like there was so much I didn’t do.

I’m in a very reflective season of my life, where I’ve been going over all that I didn’t “get right”. I’ll admit, I am one to dwell on mistakes made, whether it be with my career, friendships, familial ties and romantic relationships. I’m extrapolating the lessons learned from my failures and striving to do better going forward. As it pertains to romance, there seems to be one thing I can’t seem to master, despite the universe repeating the same lesson to me over and over again. How do I build a strong foundation in a romantic relationship and what does that foundation consist of? Seems like I am constantly running into the same issue when it comes to building something lasting.

When it comes to my platonic relationships, I have clear boundaries. The closer we become as friend’s, the harder it is for me to pursue a romantic relationship when the opportunity presents itself. I’m very protective of all my close friendships, fearful of losing those genuine connections. I realize what I cherish about these connections is that I am able to show up as my authentic self, free of judgement and I’m accepted, flaws and all. Overtime, the ease with how love grows in those spaces seems seamless, so why is it hard for that to translate over to romantic relationships? In a previous post, I reflected on a transformative friendship I had decades ago. While I viewed him as family, he saw us as more and it was heart-breaking. There was definitely real love there but not of the romantic kind. When I look at all of my close friendships, there is genuine love but that love didn’t come overnight. It took lots of time and experiences to build. Lots of soul-sharing and heart-bearing. Friendships that were tried and tested. Us friends being there not just for the happy moments but for the devastating ones.

I’ve been looking at the last few dalliances I’ve had, trying to suss out what went wrong besides the obvious things (dishonesty, lack of healing from previous failed relationships and trauma, poor communication, indecisiveness and too much distance, literally and figuratively). I tried to identify what those relationships had in common. The conclusion I came to was that friendship wasn’t at the core. They always started out as whirlwind romances, just really hot. All-consuming and dream-like almost, and then they would fizzle out as quickly as they started when challenges presented themselves. It had me wondering that if we were genuinely friends first and grew to love each other, would we have given up on our relationship(s) so easily? What does it take to go the distance? It seems like my generation and the ones after it are fickle. Everyone is so quick to throw in the towel at the smallest sign of trouble. Why do we easily throw each other away? I have both male and female friends who have opted out of the dating scene. They are too jaded and are scared of being hurt, understandably so. I have my moments where I feel the same but I always come back to “if I was meant to be alone, why do I still desire relationship”.

I look to my parents relationship as a model of what marriage is supposed to be. They are going on 44 years of marriage and I’ve seen them go through it, mostly living out the “and in sickness” aspect of their vows. I think back to a time when I was a teenager and they had hit a rough patch. I remember telling my dad that if he decided to leave, I wouldn’t be mad at him. I wanted to see him happy. His response to me was that he took his vows seriously, so no matter how hard things were, he would never leave. I saw him being loving even in the toughest of times. He was unshakeable. It was a combination of his faith, agape love and friendship that sustained him when things got tough. My mother has been through it too. Both have been pushed beyond their limits and every time, they came out better than ever, more refined and stronger. They both have the patience and grace of saints. I’ve seen many iterations of their marriage take form. What remained constant was they were each other’s best friend.

So is that the solution then, to be each other’s friend first? Friends are more accepting of each others differences and flaws. They can have real conversations and can go deeper than deep. You both provide a safe space for the other to be vulnerable. There is a genuine acceptance of each other and loyalty, for the most part. When you’re just in the romance phase, both parties are trying to present the best versions of themselves. That eventually fades away, especially when life gets real. When the masks fall off, do you still like what you see? Why is it that “perfection” is the new standard? We don’t expect perfection from our friends but then expect it from the humans we’re romantically linked to? That doesn’t seem fair. If we were to handle all people that enter into our lives as potential friends, I think there’d be a lot more grace and acceptance all around. At least for me, I think it would make me a better partner. I’m fiercely protective of those I call friends, and I see an extension of that in potential partners. Unfortunately, that isn’t always reciprocated and then that creates an imbalance that can ultimately lead to the demise of something that could’ve been great.

There needs to be a baseline that we all start at and friendship should probably be that starting point. We keep rolling into new situations with old roadmaps that have proven not to work. I low-key wish I could reach out to all of my exes and have real conversations about what went wrong. I also would love the feedback so that I can try to get it right, next time. Some of it will be biased of course, mainly because folks have a tendency to make their perceptions their reality. You’re already setting up the other person to be the villain. However, how do we ever learn from our mistakes if we aren’t having real conversations? One of these days, I may muster up the gumption to do it. Maybe start off by sending out a Survey Monkey link to gage interest. Then, if I get yesses, follow-up with a zoom link for one-one-one chats. It might be a crazy idea, I don’t know. Maybe not…any ways, I need to get on with my day and get back to PA. Happy Sunday!

Knowing When to Opt-Out

No matter how much I prep beforehand for my drive back to my hometown, I always find myself running around ragged last minute to finish packing and tidying up my place. I hate returning to a home in disarray, so I told myself leaving in the afternoon would give me all the time I need to get things squared away. I’m on a meal plan my dietician put together for me, so I prepped most of the food and snacks I’ll be consuming during my trip ahead of time (I am allowed 1 cheat meal a week). Didn’t want to risk getting tempted by Chic-Fil-A and Popeye’s at the rest stops along the turnpike. When I weighed myself this morning, I was down 4 pounds in 4 days since I’ve been on this plan, so I’m determined not to let indulging in fast food on the road knock me off my square.

I didn’t make it to the gym this morning but with all the running up and down the steps in my home, I had already logged over 6,000 steps, close to my 10,000 step daily goal, before I hit the road. I wanted to ensure I had the proper fits for this short trip, so took extra time to pack a garment bag with my snazzy going out clothes. I had a quick bite, watered my plants, said a quick prayer for safety on my journey and made sure I had enough hydration to last the whole ride. After my long trek, hitting traffic in every state, I finally made it to my family’s home. It is also then that I realized I left all of my going out fits hanging on the back of my powder room door, 300 miles away. So I’m now tasked with finding some temporary duds for the weekend.

I’m in town mainly for my cousin’s baby shower. It’s also another opportunity to check on my parents and visit my mom, who still isn’t home yet (we got played yet again). Not only did I have to get physically ready for this visit, I had to prep mentally and emotionally as well. My last visit was too draining and I knew this time around, I wanted things to be different. Last week in therapy, I worked on a “stress thermometer”, which mainly revolved around work situations and how they escalate to an almost unbearable point. What I had noticed was that because I hadn’t left my personal strife at the door like I usually did (and instead, brought it to work with me), it was causing me to react to the work strife in a triggered sort of way. Things that would normally roll off of my shoulders, were getting to me. I had to find turning points in between when the stressors would start and when I would get to the point of wanting to walk away.

I needed to learn how to redirect certain energies. A lot of the stress was brought on by my reaction to certain stressors. I had to find a way not to internalize it and instead find solutions. I applied the same technique to my mental and emotional preparation for this week’s visit with the fam. I ended coming up with the same solutions for both, which were to intentionally block off time (mono-tasking), gage which priorities were most important and practice self-preservation. For work, even though multiple people are coming to me with issues that they all deem hold equal importance, it is up to me to reassess those priorities, manage their expectations, ensure I allot the right amount of time and energy to address each and communicate that. When things get too heavy or overwhelming, I’m giving myself the permission to disengage, even if it’s just for a moment.

As it relates to my family visit, I have realized that I don’t have to get involved in everything. I don’t have to be the point person to handle every familial issue. I don’t need a front row seat to anyone else’s drama, nor do I need an update on the mess that I may walk into. I can instead choose to opt-out of playing those roles. Normally, I would have my boxing gloves on hand (figuratively), ready to join the family strife, often playing the role of mediator and getting to the bottom of the issues. I showed up instead like a guest blowing through town, determined to enjoy my time home, without the tense and serious energy. Getting to plan the week’s events with my baby sis and capping that with a walk around the neighborhood for some fresh air, was all I needed for my first day. Every subsequent day will be filled with remote work, the mundane and check-ins with my peeps if and when time allows. Before I know it, I’ll be heading back home, so there’s no time to get involved in another family saga anyway.

Heal Thy Self

It’s Friday, a little after 7pm and I’m already tipsy. I had hit up one of my home girls to link up for a happy hour that started at 4, at one of our fave spots in our neck of the woods. Premium Italian food with a vast array of options to pick from. Let’s just say, the drinks were flowing and our new “friend” kept them coming. I’m already home early on a Friday night, in front of my computer. Had to cut the night out short because I honestly enjoy the comfort of home. Probably not a good idea to be writing slightly inebriated but oh well, let’s rock with it. Trying to keep my momentum going. Two posts minimum a week is the new goal, so come hell or high water, I’m trying to keep consistent with this here blog.

Earlier, at our staff meeting, our team had a check-in. A general temperature check of each team member. I used to dig deep and let it rip but nowadays, I tread lightly because I realize that just because someone asks you how you’re doing and feeling, doesn’t mean they really care to know. Can you imagine what the responses would be if you kept it all the way real, let folks know how you are feeling at that very moment? Instead of, “I’m doing well, looking forward to a restful weekend”, I’d say how I’m really feeling: “Honestly, I’m trying to stay above water, trying to resist the urge to find the world’s largest pillow and scream into it because if another mofo emails me about another inconsequential thing, asking me to part the Red Sea and turn water into wine, I’m done. When I’m good and done screaming, I’d take my laptop and throw it out the window because yet another person has requested more of me than I have to give, all the while life is still life’ing outside. Otherwise, I’m good. And how are you?” If only…Aside from that, my team does know how to cut up and despite the messes we have to deal with, we know how to have a good laugh and not take things too seriously.

I think when you reach a certain age, there’s a level of IDGAF that you rest in proudly and depending on how you roll, folks know not to hold it against you. “Love truth, pardon error” is one of my favorite Voltaire quotes (he’s a French writer and philosopher from the 17th century). There’s a freedom in being 100% authentically you and I think people are accepting of you when you own your identity, flaws and all. The only challenge is striking a balance so that you don’t hurt those you care about in your IDGAFness. It doesn’t come from a mean-spirited place but I still have to be mindful of how what I say may be received. So far so good but I still welcome any criticism of my delivery.

One of the topics that came up at happy hour was how some men don’t always listen to what we tell them (I know the same can be said for women, but I’m going off my experiences dealing with the male species). One of my examples was, at last week’s game night, I was approached by a lad who was very complementary and was spitting what he thought was his best game. I didn’t want him to waste his time or energy on me, so I kindly told him “I’m not in the headspace to entertain anyone’s son right now, I’m recently out of something”. I wasn’t smiling when I said it, I wasn’t giving him “come hither” eyes, I was dead serious. I needed him to know I meant it. His reply: “This is the best time to get to know someone new”. I told him, “thanks but no, I’m all set. It wouldn’t be fair to you because I’m not in the best place to deal with someone new. Focusing on me right now.” Dude was relentless. Throughout the night, he kept finding opportunities to engage and convince me to give him a chance. I wanted no parts of him. Yes, he was good-looking but the jadedness in me saw it as trickery, an illusion. Not falling for good looks and a chiseled jawline again. Yeah, he was muscular, had his hairline intact and had the signature goatee of a man who is nothing but trouble. I said what I said, but it was as if he saw it as a challenge instead. I wasn’t playing hard to get or being coy. I didn’t want what he was offering. Here I am trying to spare him the potential hurt he has coming his way because the hurt part of me wouldn’t be giving him a fair shot. He wasn’t having it and so I was dipping and dodging him the rest of the night.

I’ve been here before and can now recognize it for what it is. The hurt version of me attracts all types of characters. The women want to get all up in my business, trauma bond and pass on bad advice (i.e., “get under someone to get over someone”). The men want to prove they can fix and heal me, all the while being emotionally unavailable themselves. It’s like I’m a mound of putty they can’t wait to get their hands on to mold to their liking. I sometimes wonder if certain men can see the wounded puppy in me and now see it as their opportunity to pounce. If it were the other way around, I would leave that man be. Hurt men wreak havoc and their rebounds create more devastation (i.e., the guy who had his heart broken in high school is still making other women pay the price well into his 40’s and 50’s). The difference now is that I can see them coming from a mile away and I run for the hills. Why continue to bleed all over everyone in your path? Needless to say, healing is needed all around and I recognize that until my “picker” is fixed, I have no business dating.

This is where the “A-team” comes in. There are different facets of me that I need to work on. Mentally, emotionally, physically and spiritually, I need healing. When I was getting my Master’s degree, that process was grueling. It took a lot of gumption, determination, sleepless nights and isolation to achieve. This process of “healing thyself” is much harder than that and requires some of the same things. Why not go at it with the same vigor I did when I was getting my degree? It’s just as important if not more. A couple months ago, I started up therapy again (started group therapy first, now doing individual). I wasn’t dealing with heartbreak then, but was looking for a way to deal with stress. Luckily, I had it in place when other parts of my life started to implode. As I unpack, I am uncovering so much about myself and the unhealthy dynamics that have been the norm for me and my family. Starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel. I have hope and see resolution to a lot of the issues I’ve been dealing with and have been carrying on my shoulders for so long. It’s also been most helpful with unpacking and dealing with work strife.

Physically, I know I need to shed excess weight. It’s been fluctuating over the years but has gotten to the point where it’s no longer tenable. I know I’m not at my best so I’m constantly pushing myself to higher heights. Been trying to keep consistent with the exercise, recruiting accountability partners along the way. My friends have been amazing because they’re all on a similar journey and provide encouragement. I needed to step things up a bit so I have been meeting with a health coach since last Fall. By chance, I ended up needing to switch to another since she had to cancel one session this Spring and thank goodness that happended. My new coach has been a Godsend. She pushes me like no other and gives me the game on how to marry nutrition and fitness to get optimal results. Because of my family’s predispositions to diabetes and hypertension, she’s constantly schooling me on ways to avoid getting to those danger zones. She is my ultimate cheerleader and when I’m not being consistent, she holds me accountable. Recently, we went over my blood work, comparing it to the blood work I had done earlier in the year. All of the “scary” numbers were down!

I kicked things up a notch by recruiting a dietician. No more having to figure out what to do food-wise. She tailors menus for me based on my risk factors and when something isn’t working, retweaks until I find meals that work. One of my colleagues has been using her and has already seen amazing results in a short period of time. I also met with a physical trainer/body sculptor who did an assessment of where I should be. We talked about nature’s medicines versus what traditional doctors keep pushing on the masses, that only treat symptoms but don’t heal the root causes of ailments. We talked about modes of strength training to get my body tight and right. My body goals is me over a decade ago. They’re not as unattainable as I imagined.

As for spiritual health, I’m still staying prayed up and read the Bible daily. Can’t help but feel disconnected still. Even though I’ve been trying to keep up with church virtually, I realize that I also need that in-person element for real connection. So I’m on the hunt for my church home again. I had one pre-pandemic but it was too far away. There are way too many churches close by for me to have to venture so far out. Right now, I’m praying for the right fit. I’m praying that I continue to stay on this journey of healing, both inside and out. I want to give the best version of me, not just to myself but to the world. I’ve seen her before. Currently a work in progress, but looking forward to her unveiling. Until then, keeping my eyes on the prize, keeping my head on a swivel and focusing on the end goals.

My “Why”

I started blogging off and on during the Tumblr era 11ish years ago, a time when other writers on that platform were trying to maintain some mystery while trying to connect with their audience in a real way. There was a rawness that I appreciated in the content. Some of the best blogs I followed back then were on Tumblr. I, myself, tried to strike that same balance in my writing and reposts. When I think back to my social media presence at the time, the folks from my generation definitely did a lot of over sharing. We were always in our feelings, sharing our innermost thoughts as status updates, especially on Face Book. Beefs and dramas played out in open forum on there, with no one seeming to care that some of the stuff they shared may come back to bite them later on. I don’t think any of us were mindful of the lasting impact our online presence would have for years to come.

When I think back to some of my old statuses, I cringe at times. Not that they were problematic, they were just too real and probably too much for FB. When I was feeling down, you would know. When I was in love, I was waxing poetic. Haikus and journal entries filled my timelines. I was probably too open. Many of us were. There’s much less of that now from my peers on FB. Instagram wasn’t too bad but again folks started with the subliminal memes that seemed to take shots at certain people. I’m not judging because I, too, was guilty of sending those shots every now and then. Nowadays, most folks are only sharing and posting about their highs and rarely about their lows. You’re usually getting highlight reels, only the good parts that the posters want you to see. I know this because folks I know personally, whose lives I’m intimately familiar with, fall into the demo that tries to paint a much flowery picture of their lives than actually is. Of course, when the bad happens and it’s finally revealed, it leaves so many wondering, “I thought they were okay”.

I barely share on social media these days. It’s not what it used to be. Even though my pages are fairly restricted to the public for professional reasons, I realized early on that there’s no point in sharing so many intimate details with folks that I used to know. Former classmates from grade/high school/college, old colleagues, previous neighbors, exes and old acquaintances I used to hang tough with (who are now distant strangers) probably shouldn’t be privy to the inner workings of my life and mind. That’s where my blog comes in. When I initially started it, it was to keep my closest peeps updated on my life. I had only shared it with my connections on Instagram because that curated list of followers represents a smaller subset of folks that I’m more intimately connected to. After being on a long hiatus from writing for the public space, I was itching to hone in on my writing skills again and figured I could kill two birds with one stone. Over the years and having my people scattered all over the world, it’s not as easy to pick up a phone and catch up with everyone. My blog is a way to communicate how life has been and serves as an outlet to release any pent up thoughts and energies, with the hope that folks will relate and walk away with some takeaways.

This weekend was bittersweet. After attending a funeral yesterday for a friend who had passed away earlier in the week, our friend group decided not to skip the repast (which is usually reserved for close family). We all had long drives back to Philly from Newark, NJ and had another event to attend later that evening. After a heartwarming welcome from our friend’s mother and her expression of gratitude for being there for her, not attending the repast didn’t feel right. As we all arrived at the venue, we sought each other out and sat together. The main topic on all of our minds was how do we stay more connected as a group on a regular basis. This year was a bit touch and go for many of us. We were disjointed. Even though we are able to come together to celebrate friends who have passed and the occasional birthday celebration, we acknowledged that we need to be more intentional about how often we come together. We ended the evening continuing to celebrate our friend with a game night, one of her favorite events to attend.

My upcoming regular visits home will be serving a similar purpose. Again, they mostly revolved around my parents and my once significant other. I yearn for more face time with all of my people. All of the losses we’ve suffered have shone a light on the importance of connection. I do believe there is a healing energy that gets transmitted from one to another when you are able to hug them and squeeze them tight. Being able to look in one’s eyes and peer into their soul is powerful. Even though the pandemic forced us to move in silos, many of us had a really hard time navigating that way of living. I was one of those people who talked about “thriving” in isolation in the beginning months. I was so wrong and low ley fronting! I realized how much we need each other and I’m relieved that I came to that realization before it’s too late and in time to actually do something about it. We’re all trying to do our best but I recognize it’ll take lots of effort from all parties. This blog is one attempt of maintaining that connection.

Feeling run down by the week, I managed to get myself in the gym this morning. While there, I saw a familiar face and immediately perked up. I was really excited to run into this person since I hadn’t seen them in a minute. What I saw instead was a coldness and standoffishness that was super off-putting. A complete contrast from all the nurturing, loving energy from my other friend’s the day prior. At first, I couldn’t understand what warranted that reaction and was so disappointed because I had genuinely liked this person. I hadn’t known them that long and unfortunately, when life took a turn for me this year, it didn’t leave me much time or energy to pour into them and they became collateral damage. How were they to know all that I had going on? I was also keeping the same energy I was receiving, which wasn’t much. My nearest and dearest know that we can go months without speaking and pick up where we left off. A lesson learned (even though I’m charging this “friendship” to the game), when trying to build a new relationship, you both have to communicate your needs explicitly. This served as a reminder that I need to pour into those who’ve been pouring into me: my tried and true connections that have stood the test of time. No longer going to throw the word “friend” around so loosely.

I ended the day, celebrating a dear friend’s birthday with our friend group. Someone I would categorize as the “glue” of our group here in Philly. There was a huge turnout at his surprise party. You could feel the love in the room. Folks had so much to say in honor of this man. His girlfriend arranged it all. I remember when she first reached out to invite me. Her instructions were specific and thoughtful. Her goal was to wow the pants off of him. For weeks, we all sat with this secret and when we would see him, had to remind ourselves not to let the secret slip. Luckily, we all succeeded. The party was a success and a full-on lovefest. There were so many happy tears shed. Today epitomized giving someone their flowers while they are still here to smell them. Only fitting for a man who, on the previous day at the funeral, delivered a beautiful eulogy for his dear friend. I, too, strive to do the same for my people and this blog will be one of the avenues I use to do so.

So Hard To Say Goodbye

I got news today in the group chat that another friend has passed on. We were around the same age. As I look up at the collage of photos I put together of all of my friends over the years, I can’t help but notice the folks that are no longer here with us. The realization is like a gut punch. How is it that we’ve lost so many friends in the prime of their lives? Why are so many of us not making it past 50? Why is Cancer so prevalent in our community?

Last week, the interim president of my alma mater passed away suddenly. She was a little bit older but not known to have had any health complications prior. The first black woman president of the university, barely a year into her tenure but known as a staple at the institution for the past 40 years. Leaving a legacy behind that is unmatched. I still hadn’t completely processed her loss when I received today’s news. I know that death is a part of life but I can’t help but feel like it’s way too common these days. I know it’s the natural order of things but the fragility of life and its loss is still extremely unsettling. No one is ever prepared for it. My heart aches knowing that those who’ve left us probably had dreams that hadn’t been fully realized due to their time here being cut short.

My friend group in Philly has lost many friends these past few years. I still think back to the time when I met each and everyone of them. Their energies unique yet welcoming. Non-stop smiles and laughter whenever we were in their company. They brought joy to all of those around them. They cared deeply and they were deeply cared for. I’ve seen it in the responses and reactions to their passings, especially with our group’s loss today. Everyone coming together to show the family love and support. Everyone asking “how can I help” and being a source of strength.

I wish we all had more time with them. The pandemic robbed us in a way of those precious moments. We were isolated for so long and once we came out of that isolation, the social element didn’t fully rebound before the losses in our group started. We weren’t coming together as often. Grief compounds over time, especially when you’re being hit with new loss back to back. How do you recover? Sometimes it feels those left behind are living memorials of those who have left us.

What is beautiful though, even in the sadness, is the shift I’ve seen in the group over the years, especially amongst the men. I’ve seen them soften, become more loving and caring. They’ve show a rawness that is usually hidden and reserved for those closest to them. In the group, they are our strength. They’ve rallied together to assist in every way needed, giving good counsel, taking the lead and stepping up in a way that provides security and assurance that everything will be taken care of. It’s comforting.

Every loss is a constant reminder of our own mortality. A reminder that our time is limited on this earth and not to be wasted on trivial things. I vow to tell my loved ones how much I love them. I promise to live a full life and one that is God-centered. Striving to find all of the little joys for as long as I can.

God Makes Beauty in All Seasons

As I was catching up with my favorite Aquarian this weekend, discussing recent events and what’s to come in the new season, she said something that touched my spirit and warmed my heart: “God makes beauty in all seasons”. The weather these last 2 days has mirrored the lows of my mood lately but I have been determined not to wallow in that negative space for too long. Instead, I look forward to what the upcoming seasons will bring and it fills me up with hope.

I think back to what the beginning of the year looked like. January 1, 2023 in the dead of Winter, I got a frantic call that my mother had to be rushed to the ER for what felt like the 100th time in the past few years. I initially thought it would be like any other time previous, where she’d spend a stint in inpatient care before being sent home. The gravity of my mother’s situation was worse than expected. My family didn’t know if she would recover as quickly but we always had hope and enveloped her with so much love and prayer, knowing deep down that anything was possible with God at the center. Her road to recovery was long but we had no doubt that she’d get better. I remember visiting her and seeing how frail she still was but she had a warrior’s spirit and I knew she would overcome her setback. What I saw then was a woman determined to get better and return home to her family. I finally felt a weight being lifted off of my shoulders. I was ready to seek out my own happiness.

Winter is always a lonely time for me. Being so far away from my hometown and grappling with the seasonal blues, I needed a change and felt ready to pursue dating seriously again. Before, I would dabble here and there, would get disappointed, go back into my shell and poke my head back out again. So many conversations, so many dates and facades to decipher. I tried to keep an open mind but trying to figure out who was genuine and who was playing the same old games was exhausting. I decided to shift my approach and go in with no expectations, just seizing opportunities to meet new folks that could either become fast friends or much more. I changed my outlook on the process, radiated positivity and prayed every step of the way. This changed my trajectory in the best way and I met so many wonderful lads. There were a few that I learned to evade early on because their true colors shown through. I took those experiences as lessons and kept trekking along. Because I was being intentional this time around, it became easier to suss out those I wasn’t aligned with.

As I was heading into the Spring season, I met someone special. I was still grappling with my mom’s situation, which had worsened by that point. Embarking on this new relationship made it easier to get through. For the first time, I felt like I had someone for me and when things got rough on the family front, I had someone I could escape to. Almost made me forget the trying times I was experiencing. Of course I saw it as a gift from the universe. It made me feel stronger, like I could handle anything. When sadness would creep in, I’d think about that special someone and it would calm me. Was this the person I had been seeking? Was this who I asked God for? Could I be so lucky? Only time would tell. After attending my cousin’s wedding in Jamaica, and seeing love on full display, it gave me hope that epic love and marriage could be in the cards for me.

Spring into Summer was a whirlwind of emotion, both highs and lows. The highs revolved around the new Mr. The lows were everything else (family, work and other personal issues). As I traveled back and forth between Philly and Boston, I became more and more entrenched in this new relationship. The commute wasn’t the smoothest but with this something new to look forward to, it softened it all and made it bearable. Made it worth it. This past Summer was epic. A semi-long road trip, an amazing Jazz festival in (singing) “Oh Canada”, with mini-adventures along the long way, were unforgettable. I was there (Boston), he was here (Philly) and we went away, over yonder. It solidified what I was feeling: we could actually really do this. This long distance thing could possibly work and what we were building was beautiful.

And just like that, it ended as quickly as it started. A whirlwind romance that seemed to fizzle out the moment life started life’ing. Late Summer, leading into Fall. Anyone who knows me knows how deeply I fall. I always start out hopeful, trying to avoid dragging baggage from past failed relationships. What I didn’t anticipate was, under stress and pressure, our shadow selves reared their ugly heads. Emotional immaturity, pride and ego took over. I guess I always imagined that we could get over every hurdle, no matter how big or small. The issues were things that could’ve been worked out. Compassion, strengthened communication and less distance were a few of the solutions I envisioned could’ve worked. Sadly, I was wrong. You ever look over your life and watch it playing out before your eyes, powerless to stop the impending doom ahead? I often wonder, could I have stopped the train wreck? Or was it bound to happen anyway? I try to find the silver lining in all the bad. Maybe it’s better that things came to a screeching halt now. What if we had more time, energy and lives invested in this? If this had happened later, would it have been more difficult to bounce back from? Every ending is like a death. Feels like you’re in mourning. Your lives become so intertwined that it’s difficult to imagine life without the other person. As you move forward, there is a gaping hole where the other used to be.

I ask myself at times, was it because I had been in a low point earlier in the year, starving for comfort and a respite from the family woes I was experiencing, that made me glom onto this relationship? Did I make it out to be more than it was? Did this person show signs that they weren’t really healed from past trauma and I just ignored it? I guess it doesn’t matter now. Everything serves a purpose and maybe one day it’ll all make more sense to me. One ray of light at the end of this crappy rainbow is that there’s been some movement with my mom’s situation. A chance that she’ll be able to come home soon (waiting on referrals). I got the call from the administration where she’s staying the day after I returned from Boston. During my visit home, my mother was making more effort with her recovery. All of our attempts to get her out of there and home seem to finally be working (had some tense run ins with staff my last visit there, will expound in a later post) but I won’t believe it until I see it. I’ll be back home next month, praying that my mom will be home by then and look forward to ending that trip celebrating with my cousin and her husband (the one that got married earlier this year) at their baby shower. Like my dear friend said earlier, “God makes beauty in all seasons”.

Fall: A Season for Purging

I woke up in the middle of the night and been having a hard time falling back to sleep, so here I am. I’m a little sore from the yard work I did earlier and still recovering from my exposure to what I think was poison ivy (in the worst place too, my face). The welts are mostly on my forehead and temples. Aside from that, I’m feeling pretty good about the end result of my back yard. I had been neglecting it for some time now and hadn’t really used it or entertained in it all Summer. I’m hoping to at least host one kickback in it this Fall and I’m envisioning roasting marshmallows in the fire pit and grilling hearty, seasoned meats.

I was supposed to go on a brunch food crawl in South Philly this Saturday but due to the impending storms, the food crawl has been postponed. I was looking forward to getting out of the house, but it’s probably best I stay in anyway. There are so many home projects I need to tackle and this first Fall, rainy weekend is the best time to knock more tasks off of my to do list. I’ve been in purge mode lately, just feeling like my whole life has been one big pile of clutter. When I visited home recently, I damn near emptied my closet to bring up to my niece and older sister, who luckily are able to fit into my clothes. The purge is real! You ever get so sick of the clutter and stuff surrounding you that you just want to offload it all and start from scratch? I’m in that phase now. A few days ago, I pulled all of the remaining clothes out of my closet and have been sorting them based on what I want to donate, give to my family, sell or throw away. I have stuff in there that I haven’t worn in years. All of these formal work clothes I no longer have a need for. Warm weather clothing that I have yet to squeeze into. I plan to go Marie Kondo-style in this purge process (i.e., holding up each item and asking myself “does this bring me joy?) It’ll be interesting to see what I’ll be able part with.

When I first moved out of my parents house into my own place 17 years ago, I didn’t bring any furniture, only clothes, wares and books. I started with a two-bedroom, which I lived in for almost 9 years. When I was moving to a 500 square foot apartment in Downtown Philly, I gave away a lot of things and kept it simple. Same was the case after that for the next apartment (600 square feet in Northwest Philly). So when I moved to my home almost 3 years ago, needless to say, I have accumulated a whole lot of stuff. Now, with a possible relocation on the horizon, I need to pare down to the essentials again. Question is, what do I keep and what do I get rid of? I consider myself a bit of an organized hoarder. The goal is to become more of a minimalist, not bogged down by things and able to pick up and go without a worry. I’m hoping to accomplish a whole lot this weekend.

Purging to me isn’t only in the material sense. There are lots of habits that weren’t serving me in previous seasons. For one, mule-ing myself has got to stop. I’ve always been one to take on way too much. At work, I am over-loaded, usually because when folks get word that you are good at what you do, they insist on only coming to you. I’m part of a team of 5 (down a person for several months) and the work is supposed to be divvied up based on each of our areas of expertise. Even though we’re supposed to be able to do all functions, each of us are subject matter experts in specific areas. We even have a whole chart that reflects this and is shared broadly amongst all staff. Well, that chart doesn’t seem to matter to most of the people I support. It doesn’t matter how many times I’ll initiate a virtual handoff between a colleague and a client, and the client will always circle back to me to see the tasks through and it’s irksome. Despite all of my pushback, I find myself taking care of things that shouldn’t be on my plate. As a result, I am left feeling burnt out and irritated because I feel like there is no concern for how I feel. It doesn’t help that I am not one who feels comfortable asking for help. By the time I finally do, I’m already hella overwhelmed. I want to divorce this way of working.

Another bad habit I’d like to part with is de-prioritizing myself. I am one to put myself on the back burner when it comes to those I care about. It’s a level of martyrdom that has become way too commonplace for me and it only breeds resentment. I’m currently in a season of life where I’m having to “parent” my parents. It’s a shift I was not prepared for. Culturally, when a child grows up, there is this level of duty you have to always be ready to take on for your family, but especially for your aging parents. You would think that having a slew of siblings and relatives in close proximity would help ease the load. When you’re dealing with prideful parents who don’t feel comfortable approaching your other siblings for help (because they haven’t taken initiative to offer assistance), me being the “responsible” one, everything falls on me. I’ve taken each challenge head-on, but have had to sacrifice so much in the process. Aside from time, money, and energy, I’ve sacrificed emotional well-being and even friendships/relationships. Even though I don’t mind being there for my family, it’s left me emotionally & physically drained and trying to pull from outside resources to make up for the lack. All of that came to a head recently. I was probably in my weakest state and I found myself expecting for folks to show up for me the way I have been doing, and it blew up in my face. I realized that I need to be better at saying “no”, “not right right now” or “I don’t have the bandwidth, so here’s another resource…”. There’s all this talk about living a “soft life”. Recently, I’ve found myself using that same terminology, wanting that for myself. What I realized is living such a life requires effort and intention. Yes, I can be there for my family but I need to know when to disengage when I feel like I’m becoming depleted. I miss the “happy go lucky me”. Nowadays, there is this level of cynicism that plagues most of my interactions. I’m definitely more mindful of that now and I’m actively trying to reverse those feelings when I feel them coming on. This week was particularly lovely because I did more for myself and I could feel the old (the lighter, fun version) of me peeking her head out. Oh, how I’ve missed her! Welcome back!

Lastly, a habit I cannot wait to part with is looking to others to make me happy. I used to be the one that would tout that “happiness is a state of being, regardless of outside influences”. Actually, now that I think of it, I want more joy in my life. Joy, to me, seems more internal and can’t be affected by the outside world and negative factors. I remember being in the lowest place in my life but inner joy and hope radiated through me to give me comfort that I wouldn’t remain in that place forever. Joyous me is a beautiful sight to see. What makes her so appealing is that she also attracts people who vibrate at a higher frequency, which is one of the reasons why I become a recluse in my down times to avoid dragging people down in my funk and being a magnet for unhappy people. After all, like attracts like. As I sit here typing, I hear the rain outside, announcing the dreary, wet weekend to come. I’m determined not to let it ruin these next few days. SAD (seasonal affective disorder) is around the corner, so I am cutting it off at the pass.

Should I Stay, Should I Go?

I’ve decided to give myself 6 months to a year to decide whether a move back to my hometown is in the cards for me. It won’t be like when I moved to Philly in the span of 3 months, almost 9 years ago. I was so sure of my decision to leave MA back then. My transition was seamless and it felt right. So many doors opened for me when I stood ten toes down on my decision. I was able to sell my home in MA with no delay, the job I wanted in Philly at the time came easily and my favorite apartment in the center of the city was a breeze to get. This time around feels different. The weight of the decision that lies ahead of me isn’t lost on me. I want to be intentional and ensure that I’m considering all factors that’ll be impacted by me relocating. In the meantime, regular visits home monthly will aid me in making a decision in these coming months.

For starters, I created an alert on Zillow for rentals in key areas in MA, mostly located in the Greater Boston area and surrounding towns. The rentals are expensive but since I have a sense of many areas in MA, I’m not opposed to venturing further out to save some money. I’ve been monitoring the rental market for a while and I have to say an “F you” to it. Anyone who grew up in Boston proper will know where I’m coming from. I remember when rents were in the $600 range back in the day (what it cost my parents to rent a 2 bedroom condo in Boston when I was younger). Before I moved from MA, rents were creeping around $1300-1500 for a one-bedroom apartment. Now, those same apartments are going for $2500-3000!!! That’s well over double the average mortgage in Philly for a 3 bedroom home. This can’t be life. No wonder folks back home are a-holes. Not only do you have to overpay for an old dilapidated apartment with no parking, you have to then contend with the atrocious traffic both into and out of the city because most folks now live out in the sticks. When I was home last, I had to travel from my parents town to one of Boston’s “‘hood’s”. It took me no less than 1.25 hours during the day, for a drive that would’ve taken me 25-30 minutes tops. You would think that staying right off the major highways would help, but no, you’re literally sitting in traffic hating your life and building resentment for this overly congested place. I see why folks there always have bad attitudes.

It’ll be key to secure a remote gig so that location won’t matter anyway. A little distance between the local traffic in/out of the city and I won’t hurt. In the meantime, I’m toying with the idea of maintaining 2 homes during this transition. I could easily rent out my PA home but the idea of strangers occupying my space is unsettling. I’ve even considered Airbnb’ing out my spot, but even that makes my skin crawl. I know how much care I’ve poured into my home. Strangers don’t have that same regard for things that aren’t theirs. Plus, the idea of moving a whole house of belongings across state lines again is nauseating. I like the idea of having two abodes. If I’m fully remote work-wise, I’ll be able to move back and forth between homes with ease, especially when I want to get away. It’ll be like having a vacation home to escape to and vice-versa. I’m trying to find a way to keep from renting my home out just yet. Sounds crazy I know, considering the expenses I’ll be incurring trying to maintain 2 places. I’ll be more comfortable after the 3-6 month mark before deciding to make the complete leap. After all, what if I change my mind? What if I need a weekend escape? At least my philly home will be here. When stuff is popping off in MA, I can be there in 5 or so hours. Same for when there’s stuff to get into on the PA/surrounding states side. It’s a 20-30 minute drive to South Jersey, 45 minutes to Delaware, 90 minutes to Baltimore/North Jersey, 2 hours to NYC, 2.5 hours to DC and 4 hours to VA. Philly is central to so many places that I frequent.

A friend was asking me if I have any upcoming travel and trips planned. The short answer is no, at least not right now. This decision is priority for me, so all of my resources will go towards it for now. In addition to planned trips home every other week on my remote days, the plan is to end the year out spending a whole month in MA. I realized I don’t recognize it anymore because of gentrification and the extensive urban development. Most times when I’ve visited, I felt like I was being “othered”, being made to feel like I don’t belong. It’s a weird phenomena. In order to give it a real chance, I have to actually be there a longer period of time. I found a nice hotel I can stay at for an extended stay at a decent rate. I want to explore MA like a tourist would. That’s the only way I can really get a good sense of what life could be like and what I would be gaining by moving back. Despite all it’s flaws and problems, it is a beautiful place. The main selling point right now is that it contains the majority of the people I love. That’s more than enough reason to move but I want to make sure there’s more for me there. Otherwise, I will end up feeling the same resentment I had before when I left years ago.

I’ve been looking at PT opportunities to generate extra income for the time being to offset the costs of living in 2 states. I toy with the idea of changing jobs altogether and acquiring a gig that pays a lot more so that the juggling is manageable. I dared to utter the words to one of my colleagues and she immediately told me no lol. Of course, she followed-up with “whatever makes sense and makes you happy”. Do I want to leave my current job? Not necessarily…this is the first time I’ve worked with a team I really enjoy. The environment/culture of where I work isn’t as toxic and stressful as most places and is more nurturing. That’s where the buck stops though. I don’t feel like I’m making what I’m worth and it’s been hard to grapple with. My last job was fully remote and this one is now hybrid, so the flexibility isn’t always there. Because of the field I am in, there is this notion that you need to be available in-person to maintain connection and build community. Unfortunately, because of the phase of life I’m currently experiencing, I have to consider a fully remote job. Google, Glassdoor and Linkedin have been resourceful in that search when weighing my options. There are still some places that offer fully remote work. Most have now moved to a hybrid setup, so my options are limited. I’m at the stage in my career where company culture and work/life balance matters to me, so the reviews on Glassdoor are integral. I’ve ruled out several positions already because the companies were rated so low by current and former employees. It didn’t matter that some of the salary ranges were double what I make. What’s the point of making a ton of money if you’re unhappy and your employer is a soul-suck? At this point in my life, I am chasing happiness in all areas of my life.

Checking In

This was probably one of my first visits home I was looking forward to. Hadn’t felt that way in a really long time. Usually, I’d find myself dreading what awaits me when I arrive there. This time felt different and I couldn’t quite put my finger on why that was. I tend to find myself packing and throwing things in bags last minute before a long journey home. I started to prep well in advance for it mentally, physically and emotionally. I hadn’t seen most of my peeps since June and July. Typically, I’m hitting folks up when I get there last minute, which can come off thoughtless. This time, I wanted to give them all a big ole bear hug and plan intentionally. This is my fifth day back in Philly since I returned from MA. Doing a temperature check and reflecting not just on my time away but on what’s to come this season.

Since my neice and nephew didn’t get to make it out my way this Summer, I planned on bringing the fun to them. I wasn’t entirely successful with that because of all the unknowns I was confronted with when I got there. Now that I’m toying with the idea of a possible return, I’m looking forward to making up for lost time in a series of mini trips back (planning a long weekend in October which will revolve around my cousin’s baby shower). I tried to take it easy this week, which was difficult because I had a slew of work engagements that I had to be “on” for, lots of recruiting to catch up on and contracts to complete. I still tried to be mindful of the energy I was taking in and putting out, taking my time to ease back into the the hectic flow of Philly life. I’ve had to say no to a lot of events this week. I attended the last Supper Sessions in my neighborhood for the season and signed up to volunteer at the end of it. It was my first time attending. I was looking to meet more local peeps, get involved in my community and explore the various vendors in the area. I plan to attend more community meetings and have been tapped to volunteer on the board of the organization that represents my district. Even though I’m contemplating a move out of state, it can’t hurt to get involved while I’m still here. I call it watering the plants where I am currently, for as long as I’m here. The next day, I went on a hike of my favorite trail. It was much needed and reignited my love for nature and mindfulness.

As I am typing this, I should be making my way to a wine festival in Jersey. It’s my favorite one in the area and they only have it once a year. When I woke up this morning, my body and mind said “no”. I’ve decided to take today to rest, do more reflection and organization. Taking today to do more internal inventory, while I tackle the external (overdue with my gardening). This is a good weekend to do it anyway, right before the start of Autumn. I had my first session with a new therapist this week and even though we focused on intake, hearing what our work together will entail has me excited for what’s to come. This is the first time that I am engaging with a counselor proactively. In the past, it was always in response to something I was experiencing. What I look forward to the most is the mental and physical well-being aspect of therapy. Since I’ve been on a health and fitness kick, I love that therapy will help guide that (down 13 pounds since the start of the Summer). So when I said no to the wine fest, I thought to myself “will attending help or hinder my health and wellness goals?” All of the self-work I’ve been doing would be hindered by spending a day drinking empty calories.

Fall is right around the corner and I already anticipate that I won’t get to see much of the outside since the crazy in me re-enrolled in accelerated courses for both sessions in the Fall semester! I think I am a glutton for punishment. I’ve been trying to hone in on my hobbies and feel that I need the formal education to help guide my steps in this process of discovery and exploration. I’ve gotten a lot of encouragement lately to pursue those hobbies more fervently, so alongside blogging, I’m seriously considering podding as well. I think back to my days working at Temple, one of our department’s IT specialists would pass on connects to voice actor classes and gigs (he moonlighted as a saxophonist with a local band). I remember him stopping by my desk every time he’d pop in to troubleshoot an issue for one of the staff in my area. He would stand over my desk and smile. I’d get embarrassed and asked what he was cheesing about and he’d say, “I just want to hear you speak”. Lately, I keep hearing from different folks that I have a lot to say and should explore the podding thing even more. Thus, hear I am, taking digital strategy courses this semester and the next.

As I sit here and type, I had another epiphany…"Am I becoming my dad?” He’s always been a jack of all trades. Constantly reinventing himself and learning new skills. In addition to being a real estate entrepreneur, he’s been an electrical engineer, an author, a radio show host, a photographer…the list goes on and on. I wonder if that’s a symptom of boredom. Unable to sit still and just be content with where you are in life. Constantly overloading ourselves then complaining that we carry all of these burdens on top of busy work lives. Another epiphany: maybe we do this because we’ve spent the better part of our lives pouring into others and helping others that we are trying to catch up and make sure we are fulfilled along the way, even if it means taking on too much. Just a thought.

Contemplating a Return Home

After being away for 13 days, I expected to come home to a bunch of half dead plants. To my surprise, the plants at the front of the house seemed to have bloomed even more. I did have to do a little pruning of the plants throughout the house and pull off a few dry leaves (and need to replace a bamboo stalk). Otherwise, they were in great shape. Before I left, I made sure to water them a little bit more than usual, anticipating being away for 10 or so days. I opted to drive to MA in case things got too heavy, I could dip out sooner to escape the chaos. This time, that’s not what I did. Instead, I sat in it, soaked it up, reacted to each situation and moved through the days with a new determination. I’ve been at a crossroads since the beginning of the year, wondering what my next steps in life should be. I’ve made many treks back home since my move to Philly. Too many to count. Some have been a blast and others have been doozies. There were times when I questioned whether I made the right decision to leave and other times when I couldn’t wait to return to Philly after an emotionally taxing time away. This trip was different in that it gave me both feelings. The fight or flight urges were strong and I went through every emotion in the span of several days it seemed. It was like being on an emotional roller coaster of highs and lows. I allowed myself to feel everything and it left me open in a way that was unsettling and made me want to run.

Usually, when I come home for a longer period of time, I stay with friends. Doing so gives me the needed balance between the familial interactions, the release of detaching from drama and the joy & comfort that connecting with friends brings. I didn’t have that option this time around and instead stayed at my family’s home: the home base of the majority of the problems I faced on this trip. It was probably for the best because it forced me to deal with conflicts head on and confront those sources more directly. When things got especially heated, there was no where to run. One thing I know for sure is that I probably won’t put myself in that predicament again. Even if I have to book a room at an extended stay hotel. I realize that peace of mind is valuable and priceless. No good comes from putting yourself at the eye of any storm. Being back home, I fell into a familiar dynamic: the responsible daughter who gets to the bottom of all the family’s troubles, solving all the problems and speaking truth to power when others fall back while I do all the labor. That ish is exhausting! I was emotionally drained on this trip and it seemed like I was taking all of the hits left and right. That is one dynamic I don’t miss being away from home.

Back to why I’m contemplating a return. The main reason: to be closer to my parents, primarily my mom. Today marks 253 days since my mom left home. She’s suffered one health setback after another and has been moved from ERs, ICUs, general hospitals and now at another rehab/long term care facility. She should’ve been home in April but due to the negligence of the last facility she was rehabilitating at, she coded twice and reverted back to square one of the recovery process. To make matters worse, after convincing my father and I that she was in the best place to get better quickly, the switch was flipped and now it’s sounding like they want to keep her indefinitely. Culturally, my people don’t believe in putting our elders/parents in facilities for care, which is what has made this time especially hard on our family. Getting her out of it is proving to be difficult (thank’s to medicare, a greedy administration and lack of availability of outpatient services), especially with me being so many miles away. I keep stressing to the rest of my family and siblings that my mother needs a consistent familial presence around her so that they see that she is loved and cared for and will do right by her. Unfortunately, not all of my family understood the assignment, which has put the burden mostly on my dad (and me, when I’m home) to carry. Luckily, we have all the tools at my parents home to give my mother the care that she needs. It’s just a matter of how to get her out and into the comfort of her home. I’d be able to manage her situation and help out my dad more if I was closer. A couple of issues were uncovered while I was home, things that were under my dad’s radar and it’s because he’s been so distracted with my mom. As a result, “vultures” have swooped in to take advantage of their vulnerable situation. Makes me wonder how much more has slipped passed my dad. Before I left, I had to institute some checks and balances as preventative measures. It would be so much easier to manage if I was home though. Another reason for a return home: being around more for my niece and nephews. My oldest nephew graduated high school this year and my niece has another year of high school left. Both have been having a go of it when it comes to navigating life. Even though they have their parents, it seems like they lack the right community to support them in their development. I do the best I can to counsel them from afar but it doesn’t seem like enough. I also have 2 other younger nephews that I feel like I’ve missed a lot of their lives and it saddens me. I have a godson that I barely know because I never have enough time to visit him when I’m around. Sadly, I haven’t laid eyes on my only surviving grandparent in God knows how long. These are all situations that would be remedied if I moved back.

Of course (drumroll) another good reason to return home would be for love. It’s funny, one of the many reasons I left Boston was because the dating scene was grim. Anyone from here will tell you that dating in MA is the pits. You’re better off meeting your person elsewhere, then moving to Boston together. The reverse doesn’t tend to happen. I know more divorcees from my generation than I do happily married couples. Of all the couples I know who are married in my hometown, only one couple who is still together is from here and met here. The others were either transplants from other places or left after they got married. Earlier his year, I decided to get back in these dating streets again. Since I was traveling back and forth between Philly and MA, I broadened my horizons and dated in both places, with the hope that I would meet someone in my hometown and that would be a sign for me to move back. I did finally meet someone and embarked on a long distance relationship. What I didn’t anticipate was how difficult it would be to navigate with 300 miles between us. No one tells you how incredibly lonely it can be, especially if you both lead really busy lives. The main issue I have found is maintaining a constant flow of communication. Even worse, things getting lost in translation because the majority of your connections are happening over the phone when you’re apart. Face time with the other person is essential to building a strong foundation. Otherwise, how does your relationship withstand the hurdles that it may encounter? How do you get to really learn a person? What happens during those gaps of time when you aren’t together? Can love grow in those spaces? It’s all new territory for me. I don’t know what the future holds for me in the love department but know that whichever journey I embark on has to have compromise, effort and intentionality wherever we may be located. And of course, a move is inevitable.

Piggybacking off of love is building family as another reason to return home. Once you find love and start building a family, having a support system to help nurture that family is essential. Who in your network can you lean on? Philly doesn’t really have that. All of my friends here either don’t have kids or the ones that do, their kids are grown, so the parents are in party/making up for lost time mode. I was talking with one of my guy friends recently and told him that I have been considering kids. His reply: “why would you want to put yourself through that? Don’t you enjoy the freedom?” Mind you, he’s a whole divorcee with 4 children. Honestly, that’s the mindset of most of my network in Philly and I totally get it. Philly is a fun place to be a single person but the hustle and bustle of the city can burn you out as well. The way I see it is I have had so much fun, but can add another layer to that with family. There is this fear that play time is over once kids enter the picture. I think your life becomes enhanced in a different way. Yesterday, I went to visit one of my cousin’s on my trip home. We hadn’t seen each other since before the pandemic. He’s a few years younger than me but has been married for over 10+ years. He is living the dream in the suburbs of MA, with his wife and 3 kids. He is settled and enjoying being a husband and a dad, taking his role of protector and provider seriously. When I met their newest baby (soon to be 2), I couldn’t believe how much time had passed since I last saw them. Their other kids, once tiny humans, were so tall and big. There was a point in our lives growing up, that my cousins and I were always at each others houses. We were witnesses to each others lives. Moving back home, I would be regaining that.

I was on a bit of a listening tour during this visit, hoping to hear things to bring clarity to my next steps. One theme that kept coming up, especially from all of my family and a few of my friends, is that I was the “glue” that held everyone together. I was always bringing my people together. My family/extended family would have so many gatherings. I would host my cousins at my parents house for Sunday dinners, followed by movie nights. We would rotate where we’d host dinners and would do large group outings. When I bought my own home in MA, I would find every excuse to host get-togethers and bring all of my friends and family together to meet, be merry and break bread. Whether it was a “Summer Solstice” party, “Welcome to Autumn” kickback or holiday event, I was always in communion with my people. When I moved away, I thought my friends and family would continue the traditions we started but that hasn’t been the case, and that makes me sad. I miss how communal we all were and if I were to move back, I look forward to getting back to that level of connecting again. To me, it would be a win-win and so with that I am starting to map out what a return home would look like. Stay tuned…

When I Started to Get Serious About Having Kids

The short answer: my niece and oldest nephew, who are in their late teens now, got me to consider kids seriously. They are my biggest motivators. I remember prior to them blessing our family with their presence, I wasn’t sure how I felt about kids. Keep in mind, I was in my early twenties, still trying to figure out life and kids seemed like they’d be an obstacle to the goals I wanted to accomplish. Despite that, I had my timeline. Get married by 25, buy our first home together, start having children by 30 and probably make a life-changing move with my family to another country because even back then, I wanted my kids to grow up in a better environment than I did.

What’s that saying, “we make plans and God laugh’s”? My life trajectory was unconventional for starters. I bought my first home at 24/25, dove in to my work even more, moved out of my home state in my early 30’s and have been trekking ever since. I had a long-term relationship that I thought would lead to me completing the puzzle but turns out kids and marriage weren’t my exes goal. At that point, it felt like I had wasted precious years of my life. I tried to convince myself that kids were no longer a priority for me (me being a realist), until the pandemic hit and our world was rocked. I remember having a candid conversation with my nephew, during one of very few visits to my hometown during the ‘demy, who flat out asked me “when are you going to give me some cousins?” He was sixteen at the time, so I was flabbergasted to be called out in that way by him. When I asked him why, he said he always envisioned being part of a large family with siblings and lots of cousins that would become instant friends. He said out of everyone, he expected I would be next to grow the family. I didn’t get too much in the weeds about the subject with him, but I remember replying “God willing” and kept it moving.

During that same trip, I also got to see the newest addition to our family: my baby nephew. My older sister had just given birth to him. Holding him close to my chest awakened something in me. Smelling that new baby smell, seeing him struggle to open his almond-shaped eyes, and moving his head around, looking for his source of food, gave me the warm fuzzies that soon to be moms I knew would gush about. Given that my sister had given birth to him in her 40s, it gave me hope that I, too, could also have my own bundle of joy.

When I returned home from that trip, there was a loneliness that washed over me. Of course a man could’ve filled that void but I had a feeling that it wouldn’t be enough. I started to look at all of my friends who were either married or single moms and thought how nice it would’ve been to have a small human, a person that I created, to grow with. As soon as that thought entered into my head, I quickly put it on the back burner. After all, how could that dream be realized without my forever person? Not once did I ever consider doing it on my own, especially after the example my parents had shown me as a unit doing it together. So until that person comes, it’s more of an after thought.

I’ve been visiting with family on my most recent trip back home. I stumbled into another conversation, this time with my niece, posing that same question my nephew had asked me several years earlier. I told her what would need to happen in order for that goal to be achieved. I also asked her “why” and her response was simple: “You will be an amazing mom. Your kids will have the best life.” It’s not the first time I’ve heard this. I had a similar talk with a cousin of mine last Fall. She said that she’s always noticed how fiercely protective I have been of the children in my life and that she knows that my kids would have the best. She also entrusted me with her own child, in case life took a turn, and I felt honored. What my niece and nephew don’t know, and what I hope to soon share with them, is that I view them the same way. What makes me more sure about bringing life into this world, is that my children (if ever blessed to have them) will have my niece and nephew to look up to. They are the most well-rounded kids that I know. Like me, they were forced to grow up fast at an early age and have a deep profound way of looking at the world. They are old souls who’ve identified early on that there are patterns of trauma that need to end with them. They, too, are extremely protective of their younger siblings, family members and friends. They make me so proud of being an aunt!

While I wait, I’ve been doing the self-work to prepare for that time. Been having lots of conversations with health care providers and my peers. The gist of those convos consist of how to create an environment conducive to growing a healthy little human and focusing on how to get healthy physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually. This season has been particularly rough for me because I’ve been in this limbo. Having to make so many major decisions that will have a major impact on my future and feeling alone in making those decisions. It’s not how I thought it would be. However, building legacy is the goal and so I must move forward into the unknown. I am terrified, but have been steeped in prayer, asking for much needed guidance. In the next few days, I am set to start testing to see what the numbers (eggs, sorry for the oversharing) are. I want to know what my odds are and how much additional work I will need to do to realize that dream. I was speaking with a close family friend and shared some of my fears. Her reply: “Is there anything God can’t do?” So I will continue to move by faith…

Those Left Behind

I jump at the chance to meet my friends’ parents. I liken it to putting a puzzle together, finding the missing piece. Even though I think I know all there is to know about a person, meeting their biggest influences, the people that raised them, makes it all come together. This past weekend, I got the opportunity to meet my friend’s father, who was visiting from the south. The minute I introduced myself to him, it was like I was looking into my friend’s face. She is the spitting image of her dad. Same eyes, same teeth, same smile. It’s funny, I’ve met women who, when told they look more like their fathers, take offense. They act like you’re calling them mannish, which so isn’t the case. My friend’s father is well into his 70’s but I can tell that he definitely was a looker back in the day. She definitely came from good stock!

A small group of us got together to celebrate my friend’s upcoming birthday at her home. As we waited for the food to finish grilling, my friend’s dad was dropping his gems of wisdom on us. We talked about faith, the north vs. south, current events and just life in general. Practically every subject under the sun was discussed. Most of all, we got to know him on a deeper level and he inquired about us as well. There was a moment when he referenced his late wife, who had passed away some time ago. He had this sparkle, this light in his eyes when he spoke of her. It was really sweet. It made me think of life and love. Imagine meeting your love, your person and spending 40+ years together. Building a family and a home together, only for you to lose them. Some couples are so intertwined that you can’t imagine one without the other. What is that saying, “it’s better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all”? We’re not talking about a breakup. The biggest heartbreak is loving someone, anyone, and losing them forever. The thought of it scares me. However, I often wonder if the memories you build are enough to sustain you, warm your heart on those lonely nights when you roll over in bed, out of habit, only to be hit with the realization that your loved one isn’t there.

I thought back to another widower I used to talk to a while back. He was a father of 2 teen boys, who had lost his wife 10+ years ago. I found this out on our first date and I immediately became sad. I could see the pain in his eyes. I asked him how he knew he was ready to date again, and he said he felt like he had enough time to heal. He said that when he had gotten married years ago, he intended on staying married forever but the universe had other plans. He was ready to do it all again because he wanted to be married again and wanted to give his sons a stepmom. I remember him asking me if I could love his boys as if they were my own. When I told him I was contemplating having a child, he immediately tried to talk me out of it. I think back to him because, again, there was that sparkle (like my friend’s dad) when he talked about his late wife.

Most widowers I’ve talked to, both young and old, have something in common. It seems like the spouses who have passed on get elevated to sainthood. One thing’s for certain, they can never be replaced. So for the men and women coming after them, there is this gaping hole in their loved ones lives and the mere thought of someone coming in to fill it is unimaginable. With the lad I used to talk to, I knew I didn’t want that life. One where I would be living in another woman’s shadow, constantly being compared to her. I wanted to leave my own footprint and build a life together with a significant other instead of stepping in to fill a void. Those who’ve experienced the loss of a spouse deserve to be loved. I believe they can love again, as long as they have the capacity to let you all the way in to their heart. Just know, that those they’ve lost will always hold a space in it.

The Art of the Unsolicited Peen Pic

I’ll start off by saying that a recent occurrence (a few months ago now) is what prompted this post. I had to get this off my chest. My hopes are that one day, some bloke will stumble across my post, learn a lesson and never make this mistake.

Let me get right into it: one week day morning, while I was responding to work emails and prepping for a staff meeting, I get an alert that I have a text message/image from this guy I hadn’t spoken too in a month of Sundays. In other words, it’s been a hot minute. We had only gone on one date, and never spoke to each other after. Not because the date was terrible but I think we both knew it just wasn’t a good fit. Dude was older, had several adult children and had recently lost his wife. He tried to convince me that he was ready to date again and marry but I thought it was too soon after her passing.

He was the type to constantly talk about his faith, he even said grace over our meal. We were in a trendy restaurant that turned into a club at night. With trap music blaring and a couple of women at the table next to us twerking, dropping it low and spreading it wide, he asked that we bow our heads in prayer. I’m all for a good blessing of a meal but the venue made it seem out of place. Who am I to judge? It was a nice gesture and I embraced it for what it was.

That night, he was gushing about how proud he was of his kids. He was a proud dad, an empty nester, who was ready to find love again and making plans for future dates. There was never a point where the conversation got inappropriate or sexual in nature. Even though we never connected after that, I chocked it up to it just wasn’t meant to be. So when I got the image he sent of himself nude, with his erect peen many months later via text, I was utterly perplexed and disgusted. I called him out on it and he replied that he sent to me by accident. Really? Most of us have a vast array of contacts saved in our phones. A lot of those contacts consist of former and current co-workers, family members and the like. The risk of you sending a pic like that to the wrong recipient is high and not worth the embarrassment you will experience. I sent a screenshot of the text to one of my friends and she insinuated that he was fishing, I guess to see if he could pique my interest if I saw what he was working with.

I was immediately transported back to some years prior to a group chat me and some female cousin’s had. One cousin had a gallery of peen pics. All different shades, shapes and sizes. I was fascinated. I would ask her “do they always send these to you, without you even asking for them”?! “Yup”, she replied. She continued, “I assume they want an audience, that’s why I share them with our group chat.” I used to joke that she sent me so many of the pics guys sent her, I could have them made into a collage for a quilt. After an incident at work when, I unsuspectingly opened one of her texts around co-workers, only to find an erect, veiny, wrinkled, engorged turkey neck filling my phone screen (almost dropped my phone in shock). I now wait to open any text messages from her in private.

Again, what two consenting adults decide to do in the confines of their relationship is none of my business. You’ll get no judgement from me. I guess I’m a little old school and a bit of a conspiracy theorist. I don’t believe that once a pic gets deleted from your phone that it’s gone forever. What if my phone gets hacked? Maybe one day I’ll decide to run for office. What if I took some nudes ages ago and they resurface? It’s not worth the risk. Once they are out there, I believe they’re out there forever and they’ll keep recirculating. I had missed a picnic with friends a few weeks ago. When pics of the event were shared in the group chat, I saw a picture of peen pic dude (didn’t realize we had friends in common). That would’ve made for a real awkward run in, especially after I told him off for sending me his peen before 9am on a weekday!!!! Men, don’t send peen pics unsolicited, and even when asked, think twice before sending. Never know who’s hands it’ll fall into.

Black Girl On the Mend

After 7 weeks of meeting with my “Black Girl On the Mend” group, it sadly came to a close this week. I looked forward to the sessions and they usually were the highlight of my week. It was a safe space where we could come and let our hair down. Not to vent necessarily, but more so to share experiences with like-minded women, who lent a shoulder and an ear or sometimes even a hug. This space existed for those of us who don’t always feel seen or heard in our everyday lives. Our small group consisted of women who identify as caregivers, nurturers, mothers, sisters, daughters, wives and workers. All who share one common theme: we tend to carry the weight of the world on our shoulders yet rarely feel supported. Often siloed, no one is consistently checking on us. This group provided that check-in.

What was transformative about our sessions was that they weren’t vent sessions. The discussions were facilitated and guided. They gave us the time and space to share best practices, come up with solutions and self-care methods, something I struggle with prioritizing. To me, self care is self love realized. This is my personal motto now. I used to keep telling myself that I don’t always have time to incorporate it on a daily basis. I would constantly deny myself of the things that are meant to strengthen and sustain me, making excuses that there isn’t enough time in the day or telling myself that I’ll get to it later. My focus now is to change my negative self talk and start saying yes to myself more instead of being riddled with guilt for putting myself first.

This week was another trying week. When it comes to my work, I usually end up in spaces where excellence is the standard that is expected from me (not always expected from some of my other counterparts). That level of excellence requires longer work days than necessary, being all things to all people at all times and always saying yes even when your mind & body say otherwise. The burnout is real and it tends to trickle into other aspects of my life. I leave work ran ragged, even on the days when I am working from home. I came to the realization that this way of being isn’t sustainable long term. Something has got to give and it can’t be me anymore!

Also this week, I had to hang the “cool auntie” hat up for the first time and put on the authoritative one. I didn’t expect it to be so uncomfortable. I’m used to my siblings’ kids reaching out to do all the fun things. Generally, I enjoy swooping in and keeping things lit for them when their parents don’t have the time. This week, I finally had to say no and it hurt me. One of my sister’s kid’s was planning on coming to visit solo, which I was down for until I found out permission hadn’t expressly been given for them to travel alone. The expectation was that I would talk my sibling into letting them come (eventually finding out that they had made other plans, while visiting me, that I didn’t jive with). I felt the “no” from the pit of my stomach. It just didn’t feel right, so I had to break the bad news to them and it wasn’t received well. I could feel and hear the pouting on the phone but on this issue, my sibling and I were united. Ultimately, I said it’s not a “no”, just a “not right now”. What I should’ve been honest about early on was that I didn’t have the capacity to host them this week anyway. I am exhausted!

With that visit off the table, relief and inner joy washed over me. Thinking about the energy I get to pour into myself, along with the rest that awaits me (before I travel home), makes me giddy. I’ve gotten so many invites to little kickbacks and events this weekend but I’ve been letting the “no’s” fly. Instead, I’m looking forward to hiking and gardening to clear my head and to clear the internal clutter I feel. I’m looking forward to hitting reset and taking inventory of how I am feeling. My social battery has been running real low, mainly because I haven’t had the time to recharge. I’ve been running on empty.

To be continued…

Another Insomnia Post

It’s been 2 months since my last post. So much life happens whenever I go on hiatus from writing. It often feels like I have to choose between pouring into my blog and keeping my head above water. I went back home for like the 10th time this year, attended a really cool jazz festival in Canada, been having a not so quiet summer on the work front, been getting back in my fitness routine and trying to reconnect with my Philly peeps since I’ve been M.I.A. these last 6 months.

Last week, I had a couple of moments where it all came to a head. I woke up one day and realized that I hadn’t talked to my dad in a while (a couple of weeks at least). A sense of urgency washed over me, so I tried to get a hold of him, unsuccessfully. I tried every number for every location I could think of, for days. I left numerous voicemails, sent texts and even “paged” him and never heard back. Because I hadn’t heard from him, by default, I hadn’t heard from my mom as well. She is newly blind and has been in rehab recuperating from several health crises since the beginning of the year. One of these days, when I can muster up the emotional and mental strength to detail that experience, I will. Needless to say, I was consumed with worry.

To make a long story short, when I’m not with my mom, I have to rely on my dad to call so I can speak with her. So, of course, when I am unable to reach either of them, I go into a panic. Finally, on Sunday, my dad calls and this wave of relief washes over me. It felt so good, I could cry. He was visiting my mom, so I got to talk to her a good long while. I scolded my dad a bit for making me worry. It was on that call that I felt a real shift. What I felt was probably what my parents always felt with me and my siblings all our lives when they didn’t see or hear from us, worrying about our well-being. It was like I was holding my breath all that time until I heard from them.

I go back and forth constantly about whether I should move back home to be closer to my parents, niece and nephews. After all, I have accomplished most of the goals I set out to achieve when I moved to Philly (all but one anyway). There’s a wave of guilt that washes over me. I am missing a lot of their lives. Every time I go back home, it’s as if they’ve aged so much faster. I joke with my dad that he’s no spring chicken because he still has all these goals at his big age. I admire him for it but sometimes the realist in me becomes sad. I try to fight those feelings off and focus on being more hopeful. The dreamer in me seems to be stifled by all of the real ish that has happened this past year.

I’ve seen both my parents sacrifice so much of their lives and themselves to help others realize their dreams. I wish they were able to do that for themselves. Heck, I wish I could do that for them. You can have all the sustenance and resources in the world but if you don’t have good health, the control over your life is mostly out of your hands. This past month, I’ve approached my physical health with a voracity I hadn’t had in a really long time. When they say “health is wealth”, it’s not a cliche. It informs all areas of your life. I don’t want to wake up one day and say “I should’ve done this or that” much better. The time is now.

While I was out running errands late Saturday (after spending the better part of the day laying around, feeling like crap and crying at pet commercials), I ran into a friend in a parking lot. We chatted so long that my gym was going to soon close. I had planned on squeezing in some last minute cardio. I could’ve gone home feeling unaccomplished but instead, I drove to my favorite trail. It was about to get dark soon and there was hardly anyone on it. I made it in time to get 2.5 miles of walking in. It gave me an opportunity to do some soul searching solo, talk to God on a deeper level, surrounded by nature. The next day, after I had talked to my parents, I headed out to run more errands and got another 4 miles of walking on that same trail. It’s a weekly habit I plan to keep, even when life gets out of control. Inhale all of life’s present challenges and exhale possible solutions (and when there are none, being okay with that). Most important of all, making sure to breathe…

Are Platonic Relationships Possible?

Depending on who you ask, you’ll get a vast array of responses. I have friends that swear by them, saying that having the perspective of the opposite sex in the context of friendship is integral to being a well-rounded individual. Others will tell you that you’re treading on dangerous territory because of the level of intimacy you tend to build that can eventually evolve into a romantic connection. You ever know those couples that tell you they were friends for ages before deciding to embark on a romantic relationship? Opponents of this type of friendship will tell you that those warm and fuzzy feelings between a man and a woman were always there, below the surface, festering and waiting to be unleashed.

Personally, I don’t have much experience with my platonic relationships developing into full-blown romances. No judgement towards anyone that does, it just hasn’t been a thing for me. Primarily, because I believe in having clear boundaries and making them known from the onset. I’ve seen too many “situationships” form out of friendships and eventually turn sour. Usually, because one person develops more feelings for the other. Once you start “bumping uglies”, things can get complicated if you’re not on the same page. So for me, in the very beginning of a budding friendship, I decide early on whether to “friendzone” or allow things to go beyond that. There is a small window of time where I do consider the “what-if”, and then it quickly closes, never to be reopened again.

I think back to one of my closest guy friends from undergrad. I’ll call him Theo*. We were like two peas in a pod. Inseparable. Whenever you saw one of us on campus without the other, you’d immediately ask where the other was. Most nights, we’d stay up on the phone for hours, talking about everything under the sun. It was never inappropriate banter or flirting, just 2 compadres shooting the breeze, having a laugh and getting to the core of who we were. I welcomed his companionship, mainly because I was mostly surrounded by women at home and in life (aside from my dad of course). Even though I had male cousins, they were a lot younger than me. Theo was the much older brother I never had and wished I had growing up. We’d even bicker like siblings too. He grew on me.

Then the shift happened. While I was in undergrad, I was also dating my long-term boyfriend. We had only been dating for a couple of months when Theo and I met. He was a lovely lad but we honestly didn’t have a whole lot in common aside from our culture and background. English wasn’t his first language, so he spoke it minimally. Even though I spoke Creole, I felt that I could better expound and express myself in English. As a result, there were lots of misunderstandings and I was left frustrated because I didn’t feel like he really knew me. In enters Theo who knows me so well that he was finishing my sentences. He had an uncanny ability to read my every facial expression, like he was in my mind (Capricorns, Cancers and emotionally stable Scorpios seem to be the most intuitive in this sense). Every now and then, I’d hit him up for advice for what to do in my relationship. Keep in mind, I was in my late teens/early twenties, learning about relationships as I went along because I wasn’t getting that game from my parents at the time (for various reasons I’ll get into later).

One night in particular, during one of our epic phone conversations, I was asking him what I should do about a situation I was having with my guy, and Theo flat out told me “stop talking about that N@#$!”. This definitely threw me for a loop. We always talked about my love life. In that instance, it dawned on me that he barely mentioned girls he was dating. I knew he had a roster (other friends would mention his escapades to me), but he never went in depth about who he was dealing with. I can’t remember how our conversation ended but in the days following, he eventually made it abundantly clear he had feelings for me and that he was annoyed that I couldn’t see that. I honestly didn’t know how to respond and instead pulled away awkwardly because, at that point, if I continued to pursue our friendship knowing what I now knew, it could be seen as betrayal to my guy and as disrespect (this was also made abundantly clear when my mom overheard us talking on the phone one night. She gave me a side eye and said “I hope that’s your boyfriend you’re talking to”.) We eventually reconnected and then I found out he asked one of his many “pursuits” to marry him. Even though I was happy for him, there was a part of me that felt a way because I knew this would impact our dynamic. What hurt even more was when he finally got married, he didn’t invite me to the wedding. When I called him out on this, he responded that it “would’ve hurt too much to have you there”. I was devastated. Not because I cared for him in a romantic way but because I had lost my friend and I knew we’d never be the same. We couldn’t go back to the way things were with me knowing how he felt and knowing at my core I’d never reciprocate those feelings.

This experience definitely shaped how I approach platonic friendships with the opposite sex (even the same sex too but not going to delve into that here). I decide early on whether a guy friend will strictly remain in that friendzone or whether I’ll entertain their flirtations. I have yet to experience a romantic relationship that grew from us being friends first. The longer I know them, the riskier it becomes (still have a “friend” that texts every couple of months to find out if my rule still applies smh). I value my friendships so much that I’d rather let a potential mate go than to risk losing them as friends. As we get older and our friend circles get smaller and smaller, I hold on to those relationships with a death grip, hesitant to embrace change. There was a point when I had more guy friends than girl friends. That hasn’t been the case in a really long time. The few male friends I do have, I hold our friendship near and dear. It’s been quite tricky as I get older to maintain and retain friendships with the opposite sex because I have to always question what a guy’s motives are when wanting to befriend me (with regards to new friendships).

Then you have the ever dicey landscape of being friends with exes when the romantic relationship fails. Personally, I don’t do it. Every ex is a distant memory. A moment in time that has long since been memorialized. Even when they’ve tried to maintain some contact, I’ve been intentional about severing ties and burying those parts of my life. I’ve been told that’s a cold-blooded approach to take, that there was a time when I loved/cared for said individuals. I’m constantly asked “how can you just throw them away like that?” I see it differently though. I wish them well on their journey’s, even when it no longer includes me. However, I am a stickler for harnessing a certain type of vibe around me. I’m a believer that when romantic relationships end, they end for a reason. It means I need to move on and declutter my emotional space of what was. If I continue to entertain that old energy, I may miss the blessing of meeting my new love because I was distracted by the old. Despite what folks may say, keeping that old energy around may create confusion, then next thing you know, you’re falling back in with someone you should’ve left in your past. Also, from the outside, you’ll look distracted to someone new who may be interested in you. I try to be intentional about the energy I give off. I call it “living as if”: as if I am trying to attract the new, giving off that there is no old threat to what we can have together. Why carry the old relationships around like baggage into the next one? Especially when you know (at least in my case) that the exes would get back with you in a heart beat if you gave the okay? No one wants to be made a fool of, knowing that at any given moment if you have a disagreement, there’s a chance you may reach out and “touch” an old flame. It’s way too risky…

I never understood why my parents were content with not having those external relationships and outlets in other people. As an adult, I totally get it now. They never wanted to give the appearance of inappropriateness with their friendships. They are each other’s best friend. Any friendships they have with external folks, they share. So I’d never see my dad or mom kicking it with the opposite sex, even when they knew them for decades. It’s a respect thing. Plus, like me, my parents are super possessive of each other. Ultimately, I think I’d like to have a relationship similar to theirs. One where there’s no grey area to have to navigate, with the other person being mindful of what your boundaries are, and getting most of your needs met by your person so that you don’t have to have them met by external folks. In the meantime, those platonic friendships end up feeling like placeholders for what most of us really want (or at least me): our forever person.

When The Past Informs Your Present

Normally, I schedule my workouts in the morning on my remote work days. Since I had a work meeting to prep for and was a little anxious about it, I started work earlier and planned to hit the gym in the afternoon during my lunch break instead. Well, when I finally stepped out, all 99 degrees fahrenheit slapped the heck out of me, leaving me in a stupor. The heat was suffocating. I still managed to make it to the gym today but thought “well, there goes the rest of my day”. I had planned on heading out in the evening to dance and sweat the week’s stresses out and that heat said “no ma’am”. Hence why I’m here, online, instead of out and about taking advantage of the pre-Roots Picnic festivities (I have yet to attend even though I’ve been out here eight and a half years now).

I forgot to mention that I’m on day 5 of my pre-Summer detox. As usual, I go into these deep reflective mental states when I’m not having to focus on food. Everything comes to the surface. Every emotion, every random thought, the past, the present and future are all swirling around in my head. I’m here trying to reckon with all of it, thus keeping myself up late at night. One thought in particular is whether past dating experiences inform how I present in romantic relationships currently. The short answer is that they have. Especially, as it pertains to vulnerability.

Knowing when to be vulnerable in relationships has always been a challenge for me. Not that I don’t know how to or don’t want to be, it’s knowing when is the right time to let people in. I definitely have the capacity to be and I have a Cancer I met 15 years ago to thank for that. I’d liken it to when you try to squeeze the last bit of toothpaste out of the tube and when you can’t get anymore out, you cut open the tube on it’s side to scrape out the rest (I know, sounds a bit po’ but Sensodyne isn’t cheap!). Well, I was that tube of toothpaste. He kept kneading the emotion out of me (not literally, relax). I would let some out in spurts but it was never enough for him. I was pushed to my limits and tested constantly until I couldn’t fight it anymore. It was at the end of that relationship when I broke open emotionally.

When I think back to why I was so hardened emotionally before then, my parents come to mind. Especially my mom. She held everything close to the vest back then. As of today, I still don’t know anyone as stubborn as her. How that played out in her relationship with my dad was telling. When it was just the three of us (my older sis was still in Haiti), my parents were much more affectionate. Then when my younger siblings came along, I noticed a shift in my parents. They weren’t as emotive/romantic anymore and then eventually, that part of them seemed non-existent. Could’ve been the stresses of life weighing heavily on them, so no time or space to be lovey dove-y. However, that couldn’t have been the case since my mom stayed pregnant and well into her 40’s at that. They were definitely hiding that part of their lives from us kids, but why? As I grew older, what I noticed in my mom was pride. Like she didn’t want to get caught slipping emotionally. Even when it came to disciplining us, you would think my dad would’ve been more of the disciplinarian (and he was, for the most part). My mom was a savage with it though. Her beatings were ruthless! I still remember that last beating too. Where my dad would express compassion and sadness for having to discipline us, my mom stood ten toes down and showed no remorse. When I think back over the span of my life, I don’t remember her ever saying sorry for anything.

Now to add another layer to all of this, I don’t recall hearing either of them ever say I love you, to each other and to us children. I don’t think I’ve ever heard it out loud in my home growing up. It rubbed off on us siblings too. We were emotional gangsters to each other (except for my baby sis, she was so loving), constantly roasting each other. Roasting was our love language and we were pranksters too. Taking pics of each other coming out the shower (had all sisters), recording each other snore, laughing at one another when someone was crying or getting in trouble. Now I don’t hold this against my parents since it seems to be a cultural thing. Haitian parents express their love by what they do for you. Duty = Love to them. A roof over your head, clothes on your back and a full belly is how they express their love. Even when disciplining you, they see it as they’re doing you a favor, keeping you from a life of crime: “when you get older, you’ll thank me” they’d always say. Some of that is true because I turned out to be a square, although, I’d like to see the research behind the effectiveness of beatings/spankings in developing young adults.

So back to my parents and how their marriage informed my romantic relationships. Looking back at my dating history, between 16-26 (please note, dating in my teens involved mostly talking on the phone since my dad wasn’t having none of that going out on dates stuff lol), I mirrored what my parents did: I, like them, was fiercely loyal to those I dated but there was an emotional void. I cared for them, except there were conditions always. Never gave up too much, kept my cards close to my chest and saw too much emotion as weakness. Once they crossed me or I felt slighted in some way, it was a wrap and there was no turning back for me. Looking back, it was definitely more pride than anything else. I viewed men as having ulterior motives, opportunistic and not to be fully trusted. Wasn’t about to get caught slipping emotionally either. I definitely had an ego. After being in a dating bubble for 4 years prior, a relationship I was in when I was 25 did a number on me and forced me deeper into my shell, further validating the negative views I had about men and why you don’t open up fully so they don’t hurt you.

Now back to the Cancer I mentioned previously. Meeting him at 26, this is when my emotional shift happened. I fought tooth and nail to guard my heart. It was almost too much emotion to handle but it forced me to let go of all I was holding back. It is then I realized I had the emotional capacity (think this is when I started crying at commercials too smh) to open my heart and let people fully in. It’s so rewarding and made me realize I was starving for this level of affection and emotion since childhood. My inner child had been deprived and now that I’ve had a taste, I don’t want to go back to what was. Even though I admire what my parents have built together, I want more than they had. More love, more affection, more compassion, just more. Am I still fearful to open up? Of course! The difference these days is I proceed with extreme caution before letting anyone in, especially when dealing with love bombers (post about this to soon come).