"Remember Why You're Here"

It’s been a rough couple of weeks.  

Ever since September arrived, I’ve been struggling with missing my brothers (my 2^nd brother Kevin died on Labor Day 2005 and this year's anniversary was particularly rough), plus being frustrated in new surroundings – feeling lost and alone. 

Now I know this is something I have to go through but I’d hoped I wouldn’t have to do it alone.  But that’s fine, life goes on. 

Still, as the frustration mounts with every obstacle, the stress level.  The emotional stress has of course led to physical pain and the combo has me just wanting to curl up in a ball and sleep the day away. 

But that’s Big D and AD working together to bring me down … and I decided today that I wasn’t going to let them win. 

Despite not being able to leave the apartment like I wanted to—and desperately needed to – today, I said f*** it, I’m going to get something done.  So I decided to try to organize my little corner of the universe. 

Packed my bag a little better, since clothes were spilling out, Organized my little cubby under the coffee table, Bagged up my laundry, etc.  

I turned on Erykah Badu’s Badu Live and then Mama’sGun. 

By the time both had played all the way through, I was feeling a little better. 

I was about to take a break when I saw a binder that I’d made for school. I thought I’d emptied the contents of the summer semester out but it was still heavy.  I opened it to find my two photography portfolios and a 4x6 photo frame.  Unsure of what the photo was, I turned it around and saw that another photo was covering the framed photo (face down).  I pulled the unframed photo off and saw that both photos were of me and my brothers. 

One of me and Kevin at my 2001 graduation from LSU, and the other of me and Anthony when I was just a baby. 

I instantly felt so silly for all the things I was stressing over.  And I knew I found this to bring me back to my center.  

I swear to you, the minute I saw the photos a thought came to me … Almost as if they put it in my mind:

“Remember why you’re here” ...

I remember when Anthony was in ICU, right before he died, I told him I wasn’t going to my graduation.

He got a little upset with me and told me that no matter what happened, I was to go to commencement and walk across that stage.  He said that’s why I went through all that I went through, and I earned it.

My brother died one week before my graduation.  I buried him on a Tuesday and the following Thursday, I walked across that stage and got my degree.   

So as I caressed those photos, I felt like it was reminder of why I’ve been through all of this, and to remember why I’m here.  My brother’s didn’t get to finish college because of their health.  I did. 

Now I’m here chasing dreams that they weren’t able to …. And I can’t let anything stop me. 

The pain I feel is nothing compared to what they went through. That’s why I try to never complain about my physical ailments – because I know there are people who have it worse.

So I’m not going to complain now.  I’m going to deal with as best as I possibly can … push through … and get what I deserve.  No matter what.

I'm not here for anyone but me.  And if I have to do this alone, then so be it.  After doing for everyone else all my life ... I think I have the right to be a little selfish.  

I've earned it. 

Shout to my angels for the reminder.  

RIP Dr. Angelou

I awoke this morning, checked my cell phone, and saw a text: “Maya Angelou died.”


Those three words took my breath away for a minute.   I knew she was ill, and I had been praying for her recovery ... Now she was gone? 

It was like reading that my favorite aunt had died. I immediately started to mourn … and I want to tell you why.  

I came to know Maya Angelou (nee Marguerite Johnson) almost 20 years ago, via a high school English course.

We had a book list for one of our term papers and then were allowed to choose a book for another.

Apparently the list was outdated, because when I chose I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings (a book that had been suggested by other avid readers I knew), I was told that it was now on the banned book list (and I think it still is) because of its “content”.

So I chose another book … but the rebel in me still wanted to read hers. I wanted to see what I was being kept from knowing . So I checked it out of the library and read it – finishing over a weekend. 

In those pages I found a kindred spirit. 

A little girl who had been through trauma at the hands of someone who was supposed to protect her.

A young woman learning to live in a black vs. white world.

A lady who learned to love her herself, despite her past and those who tried to demean her.

A talent who was inspired by the world (and her travels around the world) … She was me, and everything else I wanted to be. This caged bird wanted to fly.

As I often do when I discover a new writer, I then wanted to read everything she ever wrote. Poems, collections, other novels …

It was then that I discovered that she was the pen behind the poems I’d heard in the movie Poetic Justice, and I realized I’d known her work far longer than I thought. (Don’t judge me for being late, I wasn’t allowed to watch that movie when it first came out).

Now, I’d been writing since I was in elementary school … and writing poetry since I was in middle school, but through the work I discovered in my high school years, Maya Angelou stirred something in me that would not be muffled.


And that something still exists.

 I take flight every time I write.

I still own a copy of I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings (I’ve bought it several times over the years).

I still rifle its pages sometimes to remember why I write, or recite some of my favorite lines of her poetry for inspiration.  

Though I never met or knew Dr. Angelou, when I read that text this morning, I shed tears as if she was a member of my own family … and in a way she was.

She was someone I turned to for inspiration (through her work).

She represented that old-school, classy, regal, strong Black woman who has seen the world and experience everything in it – and now can teach me how to conquer it.

With the stroke of her pen, the tap of her keyboard or the sound of her melodic voice, she would whip a crowd into frenzy and ignite the a flame in creatives and non-creatives alike.

She was not just a Black woman, a dancer, a writer, a poet, an activist, a teacher, etc. – she was a treasure of our time.

Her presence will be missed, but the legacy and work she has left with us, will live on forever. 

Rest in paradise Dr Angelou.

And Thank You … For Everything.

 

... Like A Mother

As an adoptee, I know the title “Mother” doesn’t always belong to the person who gave birth to you. I’ve never known or met my birth mother, but I do have Mom – and she’s a darn good one.

I didn’t come from her womb, but she chose me, took me in, took care of me, raised me, provided for me, loved me … like any real mother would.

So when Mother’s Day arrives every year I always thank my birth mother for life and my Mommy for making it worth living. Because the title Mother is not just about who carried you in their stomach – it’s about who carries you through life. 

And this is not a dig at anyone who abandoned their role as a Mother – I won’t even mention them.

This is about those who took on the role of helping to nurture and raise a child who was not their own.

- The girlfriends and wives who claim their mate’s children and blend the families effortlessly, sometimes helping to make HIM a better Father.

- The women who nurtured children as educators, mentors, volunteers, etc … giving them the positive female role model they may have been lacking in their own lives.

- The friends and family who helped a single mom and her child(ren) by co-parenting and filling in the gaps left by absent parents.

- Or like me … the friends and family who took on the parenting role after a family member died, forming the proverbial village to raise the child(ren).


I don't have children.  But over a decade after my brother passed and I promised to help take care of my niece and nephew … I do sometimes feel like I was something like a mother.

 

I was there from day one. I took care of them. I changed diapers and wiped noses. I wiped away tears and bandaged boo-boos. I helped one learn how to walk and helped the other learn how to read.  
I kept secrets and shared some of my own. I was the good guy and the bad guy. I taught them. I disciplined them when they did wrong. I rewarded them when they did well.

I took them places, showed them things. I nurtured their interests and guided their academics. I bought school supplies and clothes. I made sure they had good birthdays, Christmases and other holidays.

I answered their many questions and calmed their fears. I’ve stayed up with them when they were sick and nursed them. I’ve argued with them and laughed with them ... and even shed tears as they grew up and didn’t need me anymore …

I could go on.


I’ve been their aunt, their tutor and teacher, their counselor, their mediator, their chauffeur, and more. And even if I’m the only one that acknowledges it, I have mothered them as well.


Now I’m not trying to take away from the women that did carry their children, and were there every day, 24/7 … this is just to give recognition to the ones that were there when their mom (or dad) couldn’t (or wouldn’t) be.

The fill-in moms, the second moms, the aunts, cousins and godmothers who help to mold many children and don’t get acknowledged. This is for you.


I may not be a Mother in the true sense, but I am something like one … and to everyone like me, childless or otherwise, I salute you for putting on the mom hat when you're needed, and putting in work.


Happy Mother's Day!

 

 

 

 

A Dream Deferred : When Being Safe Leaves You Feeling Sorry

When I graduated from college over 10 years ago, I was burned out. The struggles of balancing my academics and my social/romantic life left me mentally, emotionally and physically exhausted.

So I was in no mood to continue my studies in grad school, despite the urging of some family members. I was done … for a WHILE.

It wasn’t until 2010 that I finally decided I was ready to apply to graduate school.  

To be honest, it was kind of a last resort.  After being unable to find full-time employment, and unable to get unemployment benefits (despite having my hours cut to zero at my part-time job), I figured it was time to go ahead and return the classroom and gain some more skills. 

I’d been researching programs in both of my fields of interest (Education and Media Arts) and decided that I would look for Master’s programs in both. 

After realizing I did not want to work in a school setting (thanks to my stints of substitute teaching) I decided to pursue Counseling instead.  I’d also found a great Master of Media Arts program at a school in New York City … a place I was seriously considering for relocation.

Since the summer semester was fast approaching, I quickly applied for the GRE and then applied to two schools – one for each program.

[Though I had a list of several as choice schools, I couldn’t afford application fees for them all, so I chose two]

I passed the GRE, but was rejected for admission into the school in NYC. 

I was, however, admitted to the Counseling program.

Though I was devastated about being rejected by a film school I’d been longing to go to for years, I took it as a sign.

Maybe my dreams living in an artistic utopia, making a grand living as an artist in the #1 city in the world was too much to hope for.

After being laid off, fired and turned down for jobs (because I was either over-qualified or under-experienced), plus years of struggling to build my name as an artist (and struggling to make ends meet), maybe it was time to go for the safe career – the one that would be more secure.

I didn’t really believe in job security anymore but at least a more respected career would mean a reliable paycheck, more job opportunities and good health insurance, right?

So I went the safe route, and for a while it was good. I enjoyed the psychology courses and enjoyed some of my instructors and fellow classmates. Though I had more responsibility balancing work and school, I wasn’t struggling as much financially. 

I only went part-time, so my trek to my Master’s took longer than most … but after two years of courses, I was almost done and I was so tired of the balancing act that I was kind of glad it was almost over.

But then they snatched the rug from under me – or should I say … my security blanket.

We were told that the curriculum was changing and my program was being phased out. I now had to choose one of the two available programs (neither of which I was interested in) and that would mean four more courses to take.

I was livid.  Not because I had to take more courses, but because I already exhausted in every way and didn't know if I could push myself anymore.

The two-year struggle had taken a toll on me slowly but surely, and knowing that I may have another year (or more) to go was the straw that broke this camel’s back. I did poorly in my last courses at the university and eventually left.

I transferred to an all-online program, hoping being able to work at my own pace would relieve some stress --- but I was wrong. It felt like going to 24-7, year-round school. I couldn’t keep up.


Already near burn-out, the stress of the increased workload with the new program, along with major family issues and trying to keep my freelance clients happy, resulted in chronic illness, pain and anxiety. I still tried to push through, as I usually do, but after doing poorly again, I was left with no choice but to take some time off.

That not only meant I had to postpone my planned relocation … it meant I had to leave my apartment and move back home. It was a huge setback and a blow to my entire being. At that point, I was dazed and confused. I had no clue what to do.

I prayed and meditated, hoping for an answer. I was thinking, “This is what you wanted me to do God, why is it turning out this way?” 

I believe in being obedient to Him … so when I was rejected from film school, I took it was a sign that chasing my dreams was not the route to take right now. I needed to grow up and choose something safer. If it was meant to be, I would’ve been accepted right?

Now I was at the point where I’d done as I felt I was told and it still didn’t turn out right … So now what?

During my hiatus, I searched for peace. The longer I didn’t have the burden of trying to fit some mold or play it safe, I felt free. 

Yes I enjoyed the classes and learned a lot … but who was I doing it for? Not me!

And when you’re working hard to please everyone BUT yourself, of course you’ll be exhausted! It will break you down physically, emotionally and spiritually because you’re not being true to who the Creator made you to be … you’re not fulfilling YOUR purpose or HIS purpose, you’re working to fulfill man’s purpose for you … and that’s just backwards.

When the New Year rang in, I made a promise to myself that in 2014, I would live for ME again.

First, I was going to re-start my search for a graduate film/arts program and, by any means necessary, I was going to make it to NYC and chase my artistic dreams.

I can still counsel people, give them advice, and change their lives in some way through my words of encouragement and voice of reason.

I can do that through my art – through my words and images. I was meant to help and inspire people, but I wasn’t meant to play anything safe.

I knew that my years and courses in Counseling would be lost. I’d basically wasted 3 years of my life and accrued lots of loan dollars I’d have to pay back. But it’s better than wasting my entire life doing everything but what I was meant to do.

I found another arts school where I could go to school online, this time based in California. I traveled to Dallas to meet advisors at an open house event. I applied, submitted my transcripts and then put together a short film for my portfolio submission.

The difference between the applicant in 2010 and the applicant in 2014 was that this wasn’t a last resort … it was what I truly wanted.

Heck, I knew that in 2010. Even when I got that rejection letter, I still wanted it. I’d just convinced myself that it wasn’t the right time or the right move … and maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it was meant for me to go through this so I can learn and grow as an artist, or so I can prove to the Creator how bad I want it.

After months of back and forth I finally got my application and portfolio submitted.  Two weeks ago, I got a call from my admissions rep, Eve.  She’s been exchanging emails with me since 2010, when I first started my search … and even though I gave her false hope several times, she kept after me and was nothing but nice to me, assisting me through the entire application process.

In her last email, she said she’d tried to call me but I didn’t answer and that she didn’t want to tell me their decision via email because it was too impersonal. I called her back immediately and held my breath as she read my portfolio review.

I got a glowing review of my short film. And not only was I admitted, one of my courses was waived even before I start my first semester. I am officially an MFA student, studying Motion Pictures & Television at Academy of Art University.

Now this may not be much to anyone else, but it’s everything to me. In a field where my race and gender are two strikes against me, I need all the help I can get. I want to master my craft so my work will speak for me before they even see my face.

Yes, I’ve wasted a lot of time and money.
Yes, I can’t get any of that back.

But I share this hoping to save the next person some time, money and stress.

Maybe if I’d applied to more schools then, I wouldn’t be here now.  I honestly don’t know.

But I can’t think about that anymore.
All I can do is do better from now on.

So to those at a crossroads … with life breathing down your neck wanting you to choose a path, 

Let me say this to you:

Never be afraid to chase your dreams.

Skip heartily down that path of purpose.

Exhaust yourself exploring every possibility.

Know that sometimes what you may see as a sign, could be a test of your patience and endurance. Stay obedient to your purpose and don’t waste your talent, whatever it is.

And most of all:  Believe in yourself and surround yourself with people who will support your dreams.

I found my support in a rep named Eve. And some may say “That’s what she’s paid to do” but in my mind, the Creator sent her to rescue me. 

When I was frustrated, exhausted, struggling – as I had before – this time, I was nurtured and encouraged and supported until I achieved my goal. That’s something I never got from those other schools. 

Even if her journey with me is over, my journey has just begun. And no matter where it leads, I’m grateful for the chance to follow my dreams.

For the first time in a long time, I’m living for me.

Look out world, here I come ... and no more playing it safe, 

#DeferredButNotDefeated

Me & NYC

Ever since I left NYC during a week-long visit back in 2006, I felt like it was where I needed to be.  

Not just wanted  – but needed. 

I carried the spirit of the city back to Louisiana with me and it has lingered ever since.

Years later I made a decision that in 2013, I would make the big move. 

I came back to my hometown after graduating college in 2001 to help raise my niece and nephew, who were left fatherless after my brother died. 

My niece was graduating from high school in 2013 and I figured that would be the perfect time to spread my wings and head back to the city that inspired me so.

When 2012 ended, I didn’t know if I’d be ready to uproot and move so far away with no family to support me when I got there. But by the time January 2013 ended, I knew I was ready … and with friends having recently moved there, I felt like I wouldn’t be alone once I made the transition. 

So the planning began. I wanted to move that summer, right before my 35th birthday so I could hopefully celebrate as a new resident of NYC.

Plan A had already been thwarted when I wasn’t accepted to film school, so I was depending on Plan B, staying with some of the friends from my hometown who had offered me residence until got on my feet.

I don’t know whether I was being too bothersome (I contacted one of them nearly every day for beginning January 1st), or whether the offer to help had expired, or what – but after months of attempting to communicate about it, I finally gave up just a couple of months before my birthday.


I turned 35 at home, alone … Though I felt defeated, I still had hope ...    

After I’d given up on communication with the hometown friends, I began communicating with a Facebook friend and fellow artist/photographer. 

As I worked on Plan C, I’d asked him (and many other social media friends who lived in NYC) about temporary housing, so I’d have somewhere to stay, he told me a hostel or other temp housing was no place for me … and offered his extra room. He said that he had someone help him when he first moved there and he’d love the chance to pay it forward. 

We communicated for a while and even met in person when he came home (he’s from this area too) to do some work with a few local musicians. It was a great opportunity to see if we meshed. I had no problem having a guy as a roommate but I needed to feel his vibe ... and after a coffee date, I felt like we would vibe just fine. So it was a go.

Now, even though my moving date was postponed (now to November), my plans to move out of my apartment still went through – one of the most stressful and emotional things I’ve had to do in a long time. 

Not only was it heart-breaking leaving my residence of the past ten years – and consequently, my independence -- but having to move back into the (often negative) environment back at my childhood home was not an easy transition. But I tried to think positive … I felt like now that I had a new plan, being back in that house wouldn’t be so intolerable.

My new date for moving away was in November. I wanted it to be symbolic so I chose 11-12-13 … but after having spent so much on my move-out, I decided to give myself a bit more time and just stay through the holidays. My new date changed to late January of 2014. I alerted my future roomie and he was fine with it.

Since our face-to-face, the future roomie and I had been communicating by phone (calls or text). I wasn’t able to Skype at my parents’ house and he’d deactivated his page. But I felt we were keeping contact pretty regularly considering both our crazy schedules.

Right around Thanksgiving, I’d texted him and asked for his email address because I had a plethora of questions and things to tell him that was too much to text. So I just emailed him everything.

After a few days I still hadn’t received a reply, so I texted to tell him to check his inbox in case he hadn’t already. After about a week, still no reply. So I texted … then called … for weeks. Nada.

At first I thought maybe something was wrong. Was he hurt … or worse? Or maybe he was in jail? Problem was … I had no one to contact to confirm that.

Once again I felt I was being bothersome by calling and texting every day.  Still, all the calls and texts were in vain. To this day, I still haven’t talked to him and that was late November. 

And look, I completely understand that things happen and plans change ... but communication is key and being left in the dark (again) just had me like W-T-F?


After the holiday madness ceased and the New Year rang in … the realization that I was back at square one set in, which gave way to a double dose of depression and anxiety.

I’d sacrificed much of my moving money to make the holidays special for my family (who decided to stay home at the last minute), so I had little time to get together the funds I needed to still attempt to make it to Fashion Week at the begin of February (since I now I had to pay for lodging). I had no clue what my next move was.


So I took a week to gather my thoughts, write and most of all PRAY.

Every time my anxiety about living in such a big city overcomes me, I wonder if maybe I should just stay put. Every time someone says something negative about my desire to relocate there, I wonder if their fears for me hold some truth. 

Every setback has me wondering if maybe this is a sign that I shouldn’t go. And then the rare times I’d asked for help and completely depended on and trusted people, I was let down – not once, but twice. So maybe this just isn’t for me?

All of that has crossed my mind more than once. But then I realize that no matter how afraid I am or how overwhelming it may be, or how alone I may feel at first --- it’s what I want. And for one of the few times in my 35 years, I plan to go for what I want.

Though I have regretted many things I didn’t do in my life, I’ve never regretted pursuing what I wanted.  And honestly, being knocked down so many times makes me want it even more.  (Strange but true).

So I’m not giving up. As I said before, I’m delayed but not defeated.

I’m not depending on anything but faith from now on … and by HIS grace I will be in NYC before the summer.

I will hustle, I will grind, I will do whatever it takes – On My Own. Heck, that’s what I’ll have to do to when I get to where I’m going – at least for a while.

And maybe that’s the message God is trying to send. 

That I need to invest in, depend on and trust in Him to carry me through … That I can accept help but never totally depend on it … and to make this move on my own.

Whether that’s the message he intended to send or not, at the end of my emotional week, that’s what was in my heart. So I’m going to do just that.

I know now who I can truly count on and I thank everyone who helped and prayed for me up to this point. Please continue to do so at your will. But now it’s time for me to spread my wings and truly fly on my own – and chase MY dreams.

I don’t have a new date. I’m almost afraid to set one. But I do have a new focus on this long-awaited desire to live my best life and finally use my talents to the fullest.

I’ll see again you soon NYC … 

That you can count on. 

xoxo

- kw

Reflections : Lessons Learned In 2013

I spent my new year with my first love … Writing. 

I stopped going out on NYE years ago and since my family is out of town and I have no significant other, it was just me and my laptop ringing in 2014.  I basically journaled my way into the New Year. 

Reflecting on 2013, I recall some highs, but a lot more lows.  Many triumphs but many more defeats … most of which were never shared with the public. 

Some of it I still won’t talk about … but I will say that 2013 was the year of Lessons Learned and I just wanted to share a few:

Lesson 1: DATING SUCKS …

Personally, 2013 was another year abstinent and single.  I vowed not to “date” this year, but did try to put myself out there a little more.  I learned that the dating scene is pretty much the same.  You have to entertain a lot of lying-ass toads to find ONE that is halfway dateable.  However, I did learn that I was admired from afar, and thankfully – for once -- it wasn’t just because of lustful desires.  

Unfortunately, the rest of my male interests were not so cultured and contributed to a lot of WTF moments and reaffirmed that I needed to remain on the no-nookie list.  I even had a few instances where lost loves of the past tried to interrupt my present, and I was simply not having it.   So I guess you could say that even though I didn’t get to date as much as I would’ve liked, I remained strong in my convictions – and that was a win.  

If being true to myself means remaining single then so be it --- because the man for me would respect my choice.  I’ll just keep hoping we eventually run into each other J

Lesson 2: WHEN YOU’RE DOWN, YOU LEARN WHO YOUR FRIENDS ARE ….

Also in my personal life this year, I discovered (yet again) the meaning of friendship.  As I stated before, there were many lows. 

There were times where I didn’t want to get out of bed or my apartment.  There were days where I cried for no reason.  Days that Big D and AD double-teamed me and left me emotionally battered and bruised.  I recovered, as I always do.  But in 2013, for the first time in a LONG time, I decided to swallow my pride and reach out for help… and the result was a life-changing lesson. 

My mental health was out of control and it was affecting me personally and professionally … I felt like my life was in danger.  I needed some time off from grad school and work, to focus on my health.  

So I reached out to everyone I knew … people I’d helped in the past, people I’d let bend my ear and cry on my shoulder, people whose businesses I’d assisted or patronized, and people who I considered friends … I asked for prayers, for them to share my business page, and for financial assistance so I could take this much-needed break.  For thefirst time I shared things only my best friend ever knew I was going through.

I exposed myself – and I hate doing that – but I did it to get help.  And even though I have over 1000 thousand friends each on twitter and Facebook, only FIVE came to my aid financially (thank you all!) and less than a DOZEN shared my pages or offered their help in other ways.  It really opened my eyes. 

I didn’t expect to meet my goal.  I didn’t expect to be able to take that time … but I expected more from these people who I’d helped numerous times and who called me a Friend.  When it was all said and done, I got the break anyway … and God provided the money I needed … but the whole situation left a sour taste in my mouth and I go into the New Year knowing who TRULY has my back … and for that lesson I’m forever grateful. 

I don’t need a lot of friends but I do need true friends – and I’m glad to know I have a few in my corner if/when I need them.

Lesson 3: BAD BUSINESS CAN KILL A FRIENDSHIP …

Another lesson I learned in 2013 is that sometimes friends and business don’t mix, especially when people use your friendship to take advantage of your business. 

I did some A&R work for artists who were my friends before the contract … free work … as long as they handled business.  Sometimes communication and work ethic slacked and things didn’t get done.  But when I stood up for myself reminding them of the fees and time I was sacrificing, I became the enemy.  I was looked at like I’d gone crazy and had no right to call them out.

When I literally had a breakdown and didn’t get one item on the agenda accomplished, it was over.  I felt so betrayed because I’d worked so hard and now it was like I was nothing to them.  It definitely wasn’t business … it was personal. We’re cool now, but it took some time to get back there.  I think we all (or at least most of us) learned from the situation … Business Must Come First and Details Must Be Discussed Up Front. 

… In another instance a friend asked me to shoot some things for an upcoming event that would later be turned into a mini-documentary.  An offer of payment was given up front but I couldn’t quote a price because I had no idea how much work was involved before shooting. 

I did the work, even gave more than was asked. More than six months later, I still haven’t been compensated, even though my work is being used for promotion and social media (which I created).  When I tried to discuss the matter with the friend and parties involved, I was blown off … so now I have to get formal – and legal – over the matter. 

It always kills me when people claim to be professionals, and continue to ask for your help, but when things go wrong, they don’t go out of their way to make it right.   It almost felt like a FWB situation … using someone for a season and then disposing of them when they ask for too much.  I hate Users, and when it’s someone you considered a friend, it hurts even more.  

     Even with these disheartening situations, a lot of good came out of the experiences.  I created some great work, even if I never saw a dime for it.  But I know next time that I need a more detailed contract, including consequences if it is breached.  Can’t ignore business for friendship ever again. 

Lesson 4: FRIENDSHIPS SOMETIMES HAVE AN EXPIRATION DATE …

I never thought I’d believe that but it’s true.  There truly are people who are in your life for only a season. Even if that season is a decade or two, sometimes you end up outgrowing each other. 

There are friends that I don’t talk to but a few times a year but they will always be my friend … and when we DO talk, we fall right back into that groove.  Then there are others who I see more often but we sometimes have to take breaks from each other because we have very different lifestyles.  Maybe they have kids and feel like I can’t relate since I don’t … Or maybe they go MIA because of a new relationship and I get put on the back burner … But those are the friendships I think that end up expiring. No matter where life takes you, I think friends should be supporting you on the way – not just when it benefits them. 

I also feel like there should be no secrets with a real friend, especially when it kind of involves them.  I learned in 2013 of a big secret a friend was keeping that she still hasn’t revealed to this day.  I’ve been deceived and betrayed by friends and best friends too many times before so I’m the type to cut my losses the minute I smell bullshit.  I won’t forget these [fair-weather] friends, I just won’t invest anymore time or energy into people who don’t seem to respect or value my friendship. 

Lesson 5: YOU DON’T GET COLLEGE CREDIT FOR RESILIENCE …

As most people know I’m a graduate student and have been on this non-stop journey for 3 years now – Much longer than anticipated.   

I originally aspired to go to film school but after receiving a rejection letter, I took the safer option to pursue a Master’s in Counseling.  This may have been a mistake, but after so much time spent, I’m to the point where I just want to finish. 

After my former school changed my program requirements, I transferred to an online program that was focused on the niche I wanted to pursue – Career Counseling.  The online school is a lot more expensive and I came to learn after a rough start that it’s a LOT more work.  I didn’t mind the work – but when it’s compounded by health problems, family issues and entrepreneur life, it’s a lot more to deal with. 

I was making it though … until last year.  This one class just seemed to be the one I couldn’t get through.  It wasn’t MY fault that people didn’t want to tell their problems on camera for this Techniques class but I ended up not passing it because of so many flaky mock clients.  I was already in melt-down mode and close to burning out when I was allowed to retake the class.  Not even a month into classes, a friend of my died – and I went into full panic mode … so much so that it took me another month to recover.  I bounced back and was able to complete the requirements for the course but I guess it was too little, too late and I got a C in the course. 

In case you were wondering, grad school hates Cs … so I was put on academic probation and threatened to have my financial aid cancelled.  With only one week in between quarters, it was not enough time to appeal.  Plus I was in the middle of a major transition – moving out of my apartment – which was another emotional experience.  I decided then and there to take a leave of absence before I completely lost my mind. 

When I finally appealed I was told that my mental health problems, family issues, car trouble, business duties, the inability to find mock clients (again) for the class, my friend’s death, etc … were no reason for getting a C … and that the supporting documents were not acceptable.  As for my health problems – no doctor’s note = unacceptable.  Without health insurance, I can’t go see a real doctor or counselor and even clinics still cost something … and the ER? Forgetaboutit.  So the school and I are now at an impasse. 

This break has given me a renewed spirit because I was able to focus on ME for a while … but the fact that this school cares nothing about my personal struggle is what’s really unacceptable to me. I know they’re in it to make money, but do I really want to go back to a school that cares nothing about me to pursue a career in which I’m supposed to help people through their struggles only to have my own deemed irrelevant? 

Discussion points they care about.  APA format they care about.  My struggle? Not so much.  Sigh.  And the battle continues …

Lesson 6:  SUPPORT SYSTEMS ARE CRUCIAL … 

When I was going through my orientation for my new grad school, they had a list of characteristics that makes a successful online grad student. One of things was a support system. 

I’ve always been an independent person, even as a child – but I kind of HAD to be.  I was a latchkey child at 9 or 10 years old, and creativity was born from being alone a lot.  Writing literally saved my life.  

As an adult, living alone, I feel forgotten about sometimes – just like I did as a child.  Back then my sick brothers were my parents’ focus and now it’s the grandkids … I’m still lost in the shuffle.  

So when life gets the better of me, I don’t always feel I can depend on my family – they have their own lives to worry about and when I do reach out, I’m told to get over it or that I’m overreacting to a small matter.  

I’ve learned to just keep to myself when life gets rough … but I still believe that if I had a true support system, things would be better.  Don’t get me wrong, I have some great friends I can count on … but sometimes you want to be comforted by the people you call family, who you’ve always been there for. 

Those are also the times I miss being in a relationship.  I see women who have their boyfriends or husbands to pick up the slack, help them out, etc … and I envy that.  I also envy those who have their family’s support.  My parents have never supported my dreams, or my business.  And no matter how much good I do, there’s always a chance for them to find fault – and they seem to revel in that finding. 

I think people with consistent support systems are the luckiest people in the world … and if your parents support a career that most think is a waste of time … you’re not only lucky – you’re amazingly blessed.

... Now these lessons aren’t ALL I learned in 2013 but they’re the first ones that come to mind as I’m writing this.  I’m sure I’ll add more later ... [Including all the obstacles between me and NYC]. 

2013 was rough for me physically, emotionally, spiritually, and sometimes creatively … but any year I’m able to grow and learn … and SURVIVE … is a blessing. 

So as I was last year – I’m thankful for the lessons and the blessings … and I hope to continue to grow and receive even more in the coming year. 

I have no New Year’s resolutions … My only hope for every New Year is to be and do better than I did the year before … and so far, I’ve been successful. 

Happy New Year everyone.  Here’s to another year of growth .... in every aspect J

The Pursuit of Happiness

I’m not a Kid Cudi fan but at a music festival one year a singer/songwriter belted out his song “Pursuit of Happiness” as if she’d written it herself.  Though not all of the lyrics were as profound at the song’s title, the words in the chorus resonated with me:

“I'm on the pursuit of happiness and I know everything that shine ain't always gonna be gold
I'll be fine once I get it, I'll be good”.

[Read the rest of the lyrics à  Kid Cudi - Pursuit Of Happyness Lyrics | MetroLyrics]

Most of us spend our lifetime in the pursuit of what we consider to be happiness. Whether it’s a loving relationship, a great job, plenty of money in the bank or just inner peace and self-confidence, we’re all on this search at some point … and some of us go on this journey more than once – I know I have taken multiple trips in this pursuit.

I had to sought happiness at various points in my life.  

In middle school, I was battling teen angst and parental control to find my personal identity.  I was pursuing the happiness of individuality and independence.  I believed that being able to make my own choices would result in happiness.  

As a result, I was allowed to choose my own high school and then I was in the pursuit of happiness through my activities. .I was active in many clubs, was a student journalist and was on flagline.  In that stage of life, happiness meant having great friends, great relationships and great times. I believed that other people and popularity was the key to happiness.  

In college, happiness was pursued through campus-connected accomplishments – joining a sorority, making the Dean’s List, internships, graduation.  I believed that being a great student with visible notoriety on-campus (and off) were my main goals and would guarantee me a job after I graduated.  The more I could show them I did, the better off I would be.  Yet, all the while, I was still pursuing individuality, independence, activities, friendships, relationships and good times.  These multiple pursuits were sometimes difficult to manage and balance.  

After graduating college, my pursuit was more professional … It was still mostly about accomplishments, but then my happiness was based on what would build my resume.  I believed that what I did for a living was the key to impressing people and therefore was the key to happiness. This too was difficult as battling over what I truly loved to do and what would be impressive to others.  Status mattered. 

Each time I achieved these stages of “happiness” I thought I was good. I thought everything would be fine … And at each stage – though I was happy to have reached my goals and my personal victories – something was always missing.  True happiness eluded me every time … and now I know why.

Though I have gained happiness in all of ways I stated above, it was never about me. It was about other people -- and their expectations of me.  

Even in accomplishing small triumphs of independence as a youth, I was never fully in control of my life.  I was never fully able to (or encouraged to) pursue personal happiness – fulfilling my long-time desires and dreams.   I was always answering to someone – my parents, my teachers, my friends, my colleagues, my supervisors … and now for the first time, I want to be a little selfish and answer to the girl that’s been screaming to be heard since middle school.

I want to ignore the rules of academia and Corporate America (and any traditional career). I want to forget about the expectations of society, my parents and anyone who chooses to judge me.  I want to pursue the ultimate happiness … I want to finally have happiness within and inspire it in others.

I want to be able to have everything I had before, but not feel empty or like something is missing. 

I want to know that no matter what school I go to, how many accolades I get, how many degrees I obtain, how many great jobs I have … when I look in the mirror, I’m okay with me.  Because none of that matters if you're miserable or living a lie.   

I want to know that every day I’m living my purpose and not just helping someone else live theirs while I slowly die inside.  

I don't want to just pursue happiness -- I want to exude it. I want to live it. 

And look, I know it won’t always be sunshine and roses, but the storms and thorns will be much easier to bear.

“I'll be fine once I get it, I'll be good”