Sunday, July 24, 2011


Most of my thoughts on this blog are devoted to male/female relationships but lately I've had it on my heart to write about my relationships with other women.

I'm one of three; the middle child to be exact. Don't waste your time thinking of middle child syndrome jokes to explain my behavior because honestly I've always felt more like the oldest. Many people don't know, but I have an older sister who at the age of 3, suffered a seizure that left her with a mild learning disability. You'd never notice it if were just sitting and having a conversation with her but it's something that I've always carried around with me and felt the need to keep quiet as if it were a piece of me to be ashamed of. It took me a long time to be comfortable with the fact that I had an older sister, but never felt like I did because we were never able to have those pivotal older sister/younger sister conversations about boys, our bodies, and just life in general. I told myself from a young age that I had to be the oldest and the protector.

You would think that not feeling like I had the "I've been here before, now let me guide you" older sister experience would make me want to latch on to other women and find someone to play that role, but it didn't. Instead I feel like it did the opposite. It was like I didn't know how to relate to other girls/women unless I could be the one in the supportive role. It was difficult for me to even let other girls that I called my friends see me be vulnerable and weak because I felt that I had to always be the strong one.

It honestly wasn't until this past year and going through so much transition in my life that I realized sometimes I needed to be the one getting the support and not just giving it. I needed to let my sister friends see me be weak because I had gotten to a point where I felt I could no longer be strong.

A couple weeks ago while visiting with my sister friend Aamira, I realized the importance of having healthy bonds with women. While communing with women of different hues, ages and backgrounds I saw how despite our differences, we all shared many common experiences that bind us together. I learned how important it was to have women in your life that will support you as you support them. Who you can trust enough to not only see you when you triumph but also when you fall.

So this post is an ode to all the sister friends out there who are as important to my life as the family that share my last name. I love you all :-)

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

26 & Over The Mole Hill


Last Saturday, I turned 26. It's definitely not a milestone birthday but it does mean that I'm over the mole hill also known as 25. So now what? How about an update on where I am now versus where I was a year ago at this same time?

July 2010
Booooooy, was I a mess. Living in NYC, working for America's Department store and wanting for, yearning for, more. Crying in my pillow all the time, OD emotional because I was trying to make one of the most difficult decisions I EVER had to make in my whole life. If you all have been peeking in on the blog since I started it, you know exactly what I mean. I was in a love/hate relationship with everything that was going on in my life.

On one hand I loved NYC, it was the city I had always dreamed of living and working in. But on the other hand I felt used and abused by a city that so many people love but rarely gives you any love back. I was tired of living in an apartment with 3 chics(even though I love you guys!), not having a car, being in an overpopulated neighborhood, having my blood pressure rise everytime I rode the train etc etc. I was also tired of slaving for the man and not feeling like it was getting me anywhere. I had put in 3 trying and stressful years at Macy's and didn't see the light at the end of the tunnel. So what did I do? I quit. No job, no concrete plan, nothing. I took a leap of faith and hoped the landing would be soft.

And honey let me tell you, it wasn't. The months that followed after leaving New York were some of the most depressing ever. My initial dream of going to culinary arts school for pastry work and opening a dessert truck all but melted away. I got into two programs and did research on trucks, even got my food handler's certification, but I was losing sight of who I was and why I had make the decision to move back to DC.

I got all but comfortable working a job that made my social life disappear. I love retail but working store-line?? Never the hell again. I couldn't spend time going out with my existing friends and meet new people because nobody understood not being able to come out and play until after 9pm and rarely ever on the weekends. I lost friendships, some that meant a lot to me, all because I felt lost in a place that I thought would lovingly embrace me. This was home; so why wasn't I happy?

And let's not forget to mention that my love(less) life didn't help the situation any. Remember how happy I was when I went to that house party back in the fall shortly after moving back to DC, and saw that young people down here were getting married and buying houses together and all that fairy-tale shyt?? Well, let's just say I encountered quite a few experiences that left me feeling like I was back in New York. Men here still weren't ready to be in relationships, at least not in ones with me(I'll probably write about this some time in the near future).

Everything was stressing me out. I lost 20 lbs, 15 of which I believe occured over a 2 month span. And it wasn't because I was working out or on a diet; I just wasn't eating. Ever had your mother threaten to have you put in the hospital so you could get an IV and be dead serious about it? Yeah, I'm getting real here. Essentially I had gotten to a point where I was so low, I was letting all these outside forces to break me down.

And so once I was broken down, how did I get up? Not to get preachy here, but I had to rediscover how to lean on faith. God would never give me more than I could handle and I had to remember that. All of those small things that were chipping away at the focused, driven me that decided to leave my 'city of dreams' and build something concrete here in DC, needed to be reevaluated and kicked out of my life.

So 369 days after reaching the quarter life summit, I feel stronger and more positive than ever. I may not have that food truck or that dessert business right now but I know that if I really want it, it WILL be my reality. If not next year, maybe in 3 years, maybe in 5. However, patience, love and faith will get me there.

Woooooo! Writing this felt good. Thanks for continuing to read and travel with me on this thing called life.

**Click the pic, it'll expand so you can see it in all it's glory. Of course I drew this masterpiece. I call it: The Roaring 20's. Ha!