I’m a 30 year old single, black female addicted to retail. *Cue Kanye West* Actually, not at all. I hate shopping. I love buying whatever I want, but that’s not really how shopping works. Shopping is full of too many decisions and budget constraints.
Anyhow, I digress, that happens often here, and in my life.
We’re not here to talk about shopping, we are here to talk about the guy who took me on a date and his girlfriend called my cell phone, minutes after we sat down to dinner. Or the last 3 guys I dated who turned out to be frogs in Prince Charming attire. I’m here to share the feelings that keep me awake at night, tossing and turning. I’m here to share the thoughts that echo the aches of my heart and the faith that keeps me persevering. I’ll include stories from my daily life in NYC, and the other skeletons in my closet that somehow make up my incredible life. I’m here to talk truths and I’m not here to hold my tongue. So yeah, that’s why we’re here. To talk about my life. My insanely amazing, yet somewhat tragic, laughable life.
I come from a suburb outside of Chicago, I moved to NYC at 18 and went to college at one of the most prestigious, liberal universities in our country, NYU. I was admitted into the Clive Davis Institute for Recorded Music, a program that accepts only 25 students a year. Before I graduated I was working in the music industry, with an emerging presence in NYC. I worked at record labels, for music artists, and an entertainment law firm.
However my career pales in comparison to the woman I became outside of my career. I was able to maintain a social calendar out of this planet, travel all over the world, found time to film a reality show with my best friends, and maintain a relationship with a world champion NBA player for 3 years.
But like your life, and your best friend’s life, it was filled with a series of unfortunate events.
I discovered that I had 5 secret siblings I never knew about. Death loomed over my family like a bad, dark cloud. I lost my job and ran from the only industry I ever knew. All 4 of my closest friends moved to LA. And last, but certainly not least, my boyfriend broke up with me and proposed to his daughter’s mother in 1 week while we were still living together, between two cities.
At the end of 2015, my life came to a jolting halt. Things for me personally weren’t just unfortunate, they were downright tragic.
I decided to write my way out of it. I wrote when I was sad, I wrote when I was lost, I wrote when I was confused, I wrote and wrote and wrote until the old me started to come back. I started to realize that my story, while unique to me, resonated with SO MANY women. I let fear go and I started to share my stories, thousands of you started to read, and it gave me hope.
I once read, “If you are ever going to crack the ice of another person’s soul, you have to be brave enough to go first. To be a witness. A testimony. An example. Except that part is not always easy. Because in order to write what moves you, you will have to visit your pain. Your fear. Your weaknesses. Your nightmares and demons. The skeletons in your closet and the horrific possibility of self-disclosure, even if veiled in stories and themes.”
Here I am now, attempting to swim through the dating pool, navigate new and existing friendships, grow a start up, and become the woman, both inside and out, that I always dreamed of being. I am a version of so many of your own stories.
I hope this blog gives you comfort, makes you laugh, and sparks conversation amongst your friends. I hope you learn from my mistakes, and “Do Not Try (some of this) This At Home.” I hope this blog makes you cry when you relate most and motivates you when you lack inspiration. But most importantly, I hope to begin conversations that we, as women have avoided for so long.
Bookmark, subscribe, share, and comment. All of your voices mean so much more than you know. I can’t wait to grow with you all. xo