Living Outside the Bubble in 2012

This year has been one of discovery; discovery on so many different levels, but mostly within myself.  Every year I thank God for the abundant blessings in my life.  I have an awesome husband who loves every ounce of me (the good, bad, annoying, etc.).  I have three phenomenal kids that far exceed any dreams I had of what and who they would be.  I have a beautiful house that we have truly made a home.  I have a job that has turned into a career that I love getting up to go to every day.  However, for those that are closest to me, a reoccurring theme always enter our conversations…I’ve been searching and yearning for something that continues to leave me feeling like something is missing.  What I discovered in 2011 is the something that was missing is me…

Some of you by now might be saying, “boy she is selfish…It appears that she has it all and she is still not satisfied”, and on some levels that is correct.  But others that are reading this understand exactly where I am coming from.  For a good portion of my life I’ve concentrated on being the best wife, best mother, best daughter, best sister, best niece, best aunt, best friend, etc. that I can be.  I’ve followed all the “rules”.  Though all of these roles and relationships give me great joy, somewhere along the way I lost myself and forgot that I also need to take care of me.   I’ve placed these high expectations for myself and others and created a bubble in which I lived my safe pretty life.  This year however, I discovered that people are human and having unrealistic standards ultimately leave you feeling let down and empty.  They let you down when others don’t live by the same standards as you, and they leave you feeling like a failure if you don’t meet those standards for yourself.  I am not saying that you should live your life without standards.  However, my light bulb moment this year happened when I realized that the bubble I created, though real on so many levels, was an image that I created so that I would not have to deal with the dangers that might be lurking outside of the bubble.  That is a safe place, but is it fulfilling?  Though discovering the answer to that question was a painful journey, I realized the answer is no.  That was mind boggling for me, because in my bubble I didn’t allow myself to even consider the question.  For most of my life I’ve been committed to trying to meet every expectation I could think of for everyone else and myself.  It is in my soul to be there for others, and take care of others, but what I decided this year is that I am allowing myself a percentage of life (my life) to discover me again.   I think that being in my 40’s has also helped me to realize that life is short, and living in a bubble, though safe, is not really living.  What I am finding is that everyone in my bubble is enjoying life and "me" more now that it has popped.

So what does this mean???  I really don’t know the answer to that question.  The answers evolves each day.  I know that I’ve allowed myself to feel prettier, sexier, more confident and powerful.  I’ve even bought some things just for me (without picking up anything for anyone else).  When I workout I feel strong and I’ve even noticed that others are feeling the energy that is coming from within me.  My writing is evolving and opportunities are opening up.  My job has given me the opportunity to travel more, and I am allowing myself to see more of the world through different lenses.  Stay tuned for more...

I’ve lived most of my life in black and white, but I’ve learned in 2011 that there are many shades of gray that sometimes are just unexplainable.  They say that 2012 may be the end of the world.  Whether this is true or not, shouldn’t we live each day as if it is the last?  In 2012, find what is missing, find your joy, and live outside the bubble…just a little ;-)!

Stuck in The Mud...

Recently I was talking to someone who is very dear to me, and she asked me a question. She shared that she had been “stuck” for many years and asked me, “Have you ever really felt stuck?” Initially my answer was yes. After I took some time to really think about her question, I realized that I had not ever experienced a time when I was so “stuck” that I felt paralyzed. I’ve never been in so deep over my head, that I didn’t even know how to take the first step to save my life. This is not to say that I won’t ever be stuck, because it can happen to any of us with out warning. Though I haven’t been there, and that is only by the grace of God, I’ve witnessed many of my loved ones being “stuck in the mud”, and have felt powerless against the forces that restrain them in that place.

I’ve seen drug abuse strip families apart. I’ve seen broken relationships strip self-worth to pieces; I’ve seen childhood baggage recycle the bondage of hopelessness and stagnancy. I’ve seen people stuck in dead end jobs/relationships because they don’t believe there is anything else. I’ve seen people stuck within their own prison of self doubt and drudgery. There are so many different scenarios that can leave people feeling stuck, and many times staying “stuck” is safer than making a move into the uncertain territory of change. We’ve all felt stuck at some point in our lives, but what is it that keeps people stuck in a place of depression or dysfunction year after year.

I really don’t know the answer to that question. One major factor I believe is FEAR! Fear of failure. Fear of the unknown. Fear that there actually isn’t something better. Fear that you are undeserving of happiness. Fear that a better place is nonexistent. Fear is paralyzing, and until we overcome our fears, whatever they may be, we will stay stuck in the limiting world we have created for ourselves. Sometimes all that is needed is a baby step. Sometimes that first step is acknowledging our role and responsibility for being “stuck”, and then forgiving ourselves for “everything”. The first step is probably the hardest, and many baby steps may precede it. The one thing that I have learned is that no one will take a first step or baby steps until they are ready, and more importantly you can’t take it for them. They must find the strength within to take it for themselves.

If you know someone who is stuck and you really want to help them, sometimes the best thing to do is have compassion and empathy, and squash any forms of judgment. Be patient with them and love them unconditionally. Sometimes we get frustrated with those we love, because we may see a path for them that they don’t see for themselves. The tricky thing about that is, we are not God, and we don’t know what is best for anyone else. Every person has to travel that road of discovery for themselves, but when they ask for a hand, you can always be ready to offer one or two. Until then, the best and only thing to do is to pray for God’s plan to be revealed. I know first hand that the power of prayer can move mountains!

Humanness...

I am sitting on the plane, on my way to another Sister’s Weekend. It is the 10th anniversary of this event and everyone is pumped to get there. My kids were out of school this entire week due to an ice storm in Atlanta that pretty much shut the state down. As much as I love my hubby, three little munchkins and Simba (our new puppy), I was extremely excited to be getting (running) away for some “sista girl” time with my closest friends. As I was walking through the airport, by myself, my mind began to wander. A feeling of acceptance came over me, and I decided to write my next piece on the thoughts that inspired that feeling. What I began to reflect on is the fragile state that is being human. What do I mean by this? It is human nature to protect ourselves from anything that might hurt us. When I think about the closest people in my life, not one of them hasn’t let me down in some way, shape, or form. But by just saying that last statement, I made their “humanness” about me. When I think about it now, I realize that not one of those people ever intended to disappoint, hurt, or let me down. We so often make everything a personal attack against ourselves. We are all on a journey to find our place in this world, and through that journey we go through so many experiences that cause us to have limitations in how we interact with others. It is our limitations, past hurts, disappointments, insecurities, and unrealistic expectations that usually cause us to hurt the ones we love most. By releasing all these burdens from others, I also forgive myself for my own “humanness”.

The word honesty has helped clarify this for me. Finding a place where you are honest with yourself and with others, despite limitations, will give you a freedom to not only accept your own “humanness”, but more importantly, you will be able to accept your closest loved ones as simply human as well. We all say that we want people to be honest, but I can personally say that it continues to be a struggle for me to stay true to myself if it might cause discomfort, hurt or conflict with those I love. What I have learned is most would prefer for you not to be honest, even if it makes your life uncomfortable. Being honest can end a friendship. Being honest sometimes hurts. Being honest is scary. I’ve taken a couple of risks with honesty, and I can sincerely say that while in the storm, I questioned whether or not it was worth it. Now, after acknowledging that the pain was coming from a place of limitation from all sides, and after accepting the good and bad of the journey, I realize the end result of honesty was much healthier for all involved.

We often say, “she /he hurt me because…Or I really wish he/she could be more…Or it really disappoints me when they do this or that…What if we turned those around a little and said something like…Maybe he/or she did that because they were feeling really vulnerable….Or that really disappointed me, but I wonder what might have caused he/she to do that?...Or I love them just the way they are even through their limitations…When we take ourselves (and our own limitations) out of the equation, we realize that many times it is not about us. We often take ownership of other people’s “stuff”, but if we concentrate more on improving our own “stuff”, we will be much less disappointed by others, and less apt to blame others for our own hurt, disappointment, or “humanness”. When we start to be true and honest to and with ourselves by accepting our own limitations without guilt or regret, we begin to be more patient with others and expect no more than what one is capable of giving.

Friends...

When I think about all of the various friendships I’ve had over the last 41 years, I am overwhelmed with the emotions and experiences that come to mind. Some of my closest friendships are with some of my closest family members, but for this piece I am going to focus on the “non-family” friendships that have been so instrumental in shaping me into who I am today. Some of my most precious bonds were seasonal, but the season in which they lived were gifts from God and at times when I needed them most. Others have passed the test of time, but have been challenged, changed, and have grown with each season.

When I moved to Atlanta, I had already been blessed with three people who I considered to be my “best friends”. These were not seasonal friendships, but friendships that you know will last (on some level) for a lifetime…Friendships that defy space and time. Friendships, that no matter where you are, or how much time has passed, the depth and closeness remain as if there was no distance at all. Friends that are the family you got to personally pick out for yourself. So you see, when I arrived in ATL, I was not looking for another deep friendship. My mother always told me that you are truly blessed if God blesses you with one true friend. At this point in my life, I felt like God had already blessed me tenfold with three “best friends”.

My life in Atlanta was one of a stay home mom, and I was beginning to feel quite isolated, lonely, and stir crazy. One day, a neighbor of mine stopped by to borrow a bike (I think), and we got to talking. I told her how I was feeling, and she said we should go out this weekend. I didn’t make much of it, but she followed up with me that Friday. We set up a girl’s day out and went to lunch and a movie. During lunch, we instantly connected, much like I connected with the three “best friends” I already had. During that lunch, we both shared that our families had been affected by cancer, and that we wanted to do something…anything…to support the cause. We briefly talked about the Atlanta 3-day Breast Cancer Walk. By the end of lunch, we decided that we were going to do it. My isolation and stir craziness was instantly resolved as I took this adventure on full throttle. Sister Love (our team’s name) was created, two other members were recruited, binders were made, and a training schedule was in effect. Our training schedule was serious and grueling at times…we walked up to 18-20 miles in one day. The other members were out of state, so it was just she and I training in Atlanta. As you can imagine, we talked a lot during our eight months of training, and a magical friendship was formed. What I learned during those training sessions was that she “got me”, and I “got her”, and now God had blessed me with another “best friend”. Since then, we have shared so many personal triumphs, heart wrenching journeys, and have watched our words become reality as we shared our desires for our families, our careers, and making "ourselves" better. Our friendship makes me smile because it is gentle and nurturing, and though it can be really strong and deep, it is sweet and light.  Five years later, it is solid as a rock that I have come to depend and count on. She has seen and held me up at my worst and has cheered and celebrated my personal triumphs, and I hope that I have been even a fraction of what she has been for me. I simply could not imagine my life without her and her beautiful family in it.

When I reflect on all of my “best” friendships, our first encounters happened very similarly to this one. My sophomore year in college, when I was really searching for “my place”, and I was at an all time low in the confidence area, I met this totally wild, carefree, confident, smart girl that lived down the hall from me. Our first encounter was her asking me if she could put her rum punch in my fridge (the 1st day we moved in to the dorms). I said yes, but was thinking, “oh lord, what are we in for this semester”. One evening I was sitting outside of my dorm, and she was on her way in. She sat down and we began to talk. Instantly we had so much in common. We talked about so much that night. Similarly to me, she was racially mixed with Jamaican (black) and English (white) and she talked about how she wanted to go back to Jamaica and make a difference in the government. She was very militant…and I like that. At this point in my life, I had not met anyone else that was of mixed heritage (and proud and ok with it), so that in itself was amazing to me. We talked for hours outside that dorm, and a friendship was made. Now, we were some match. As I stated, she was quite the free spirit, and I was not. My nick name in high school was “Laura Ingles”, so you can imagine that many people were like, “how did these two become friends”. Well we had become more than friends…our souls had connected. She was the most confident person I had ever met. She really could care less what anyone thought of her, and I cared about what everyone thought of me. I was very skinny at that time; I wore bangs to hide my forehead, and about four pairs of socks to make my legs look fatter. I was not very confident about my studies or my intelligence, but our friendship made me begin to test my own boundaries in many ways. Of course, my wild friend got me to start going to parties, and pushing my hair back out of my face. This was a huge milestone for me. She helped me to see my beauty and embrace my big forehead as part of my beauty. I stopped wearing baggy clothes, and began to embrace the body that God gave me. We were both English majors, so we had some classes together, and she always sat in the front and always had something to say. As my confidence grew, I began sitting in the front, and at times I had more to say than she did…which looking back now makes me smile. She had such an impact on me and my remaining years of college. When I think about what I contributed to her, I believe that I gave her unconditional friendship. I didn’t care about what she had done, or what she was doing, I cared about her. As confident as she was in some areas, there were other areas that were broken and in much need of repair, and it just so happened that in her weaker areas, I was strong and was able to build her up too. We continue to be each other’s sounding board and we still, after so many years, “understand each other”…the good, the bad, the ugly, and everything in between.

The summer of my junior year in college, I got what I thought was my “dream” summer job. The pay was good and it was working for the city. The very first day, going up on the elevator, I re-met someone that I had attended junior high school with. For some reason, as early as that elevator ride, we made a strong connection. We soon realized after the first couple of hours of this “dream” summer job, that it was the job from hell. So we not only became friends, but we were a refuge for each other during a time of daily craziness. The summer came to an end and she headed to Spelman and I headed to Rutgers, but we remained friends. She came to visit me at Rutgers, and invited me to come visit her that spring for the infamous (Freaknic).  This was the first time I had ever traveled by myself anywhere, and a whole new world opened up to me. Again, she was very smart, confident, well versed and well traveled. Our first night on campus, I was completely awestruck. I had never been to Atlanta, and I had never been to a HBCU before. I had never seen so many beautiful, successful, smart, black people in one place. By the way, I actually met my husband at that very freaknic, but had no recollection of the encounter. This was the first of many experiences that she has shared with me. I for the first time took more risks and began to travel with her and through her. After graduation, she went to medical school, and again where many friendships might have drifted apart, we remained close and I loved living through her experiences. She has practiced medicine in Somalia, Tanzania, and China. She has been to South Africa, the Caribbean, and a bunch of the United States just to name a few…and has shared each of these experiences with me as if I was there with her. She is definitely one of the smartest people I know, and I am definitely one of her biggest fans. We have shared so many of life’s ups and downs together that they are way to countless to share, and for the first time in our entire friendship, we live within minutes of each other. Our friendship though very close, was never one that required constant interaction; it was one that always had a quiet confidence that no matter where life took us, we would be there to share the experience. It is ironic that we now live within walking distance of each other. This has been a blessing and a challenge, but in the end it remains a quiet, confident, and special bond that through life’s challenges will remain forever.

When I was about 8 or 9 months pregnant with my 1st child, I got a call from a friend that I had lost contact with for a couple of years. She told me she too was about 8 months pregnant and suggested we have lunch. Again, much like the others, we instantly connected over a Blimpie Sub. We both had sisters that we were very close with. Hers was in another state, and one of mine was soon to move to another state. We simply just had fun together. She ordered coke (this was her second child), and I thought, “How could she do that to her child”, and learned during my second pregnancy, that a coke a day would be what I looked forward to most each day. About two weeks after our lunch, I gave birth to a baby girl, and about three weeks later, she gave birth to a baby girl. During their first year of life, there wasn’t much we didn’t do together. We took naps together, we breast fed together, we shopped together, we took adventures (kids in tow) together, and we became best of buddies and so did our girls. What I like most about her is that as deep as life can get, and we have seen each other through some really tough times, she is the one and only friend that I have that can make me belly laugh until I cannot breath. No matter what I am going through, her nonjudgmental voice has often helped me evaluate and look at a situation in a different light. And once we have finished crying, you can bet at some point we will be belly laughing. We now live thousands of miles away from each other, and don’t talk nearly as much as we once did, but when we do, the closeness is instantly restored. The toughest part of moving to ATL for me was separating the lives that our families had grown to rely on as a constant. Both me and my daughter cried many nights longing for our best friends to live around the corner again. Now, our families get together 1-2 times each year, and it is like we were never apart….my daughter and I cry each time we say our goodbyes. She has adjusted to her new life in Maryland, and has some really cool friends, and I have also adjusted to my life in Georgia, though at times, I must admit, I feel a tinge of jealousy and melancholy because we are not a part of each others day to day.

Well, there you have it. God sent me these amazing angels in the form of friendships. It’s ironic that each of these friendships exists independently from the others, and that they came into my life at very different periods throughout my journey. Through the years, I’ve had many other friendships that have touched me deeply, and reappear periodically, but these are the friendships that I know without a doubt will be a part of my life, in some shape or form, for the rest of my lifetime. This is my gift to them and I hope my words touched just a fraction of the love I feel for each one of them.

Daddy's Girl...

When I think about my father, a mixture of feelings and characteristics comes to mind. For the first 10 years of my life, I was definitely a “daddy’s girl”. It didn’t matter how much time, or even the quality of time I had with him, whatever he had to give was all good to me. He was cool, a musician, an artist, and he was mine. We would come home from school and hear him playing the congas from down the street. He was fun and he could make the best KoolAid around. Yes, I noticed the drunken stupors, the absence at dinner time, the late nights out, and the arguments, but none of that overpowered my deep love and commitment to him. And then everything changed...

When I was nine, going on ten, my mother sat my sister and me down, and explained that we were going to be moving into my grandmother’s house (who had passed away earlier that year). Of course, my first question was, “what about daddy?” When the words, “Daddy isn’t coming”, came out of my mother’s mouth”, I could feel my heart break into pieces. I grew up in a neighborhood with kids that I had known my whole life, and they were like family to me. My father (my world) was not coming with us and my life as I knew it (as dysfunctional as it was) would never be the same… It was at this point that I learned what the word depression meant.

I had just recovered from a bout with pneumonia, and had just begun the 5th grade when we moved to 235 Cleveland Street. It was a big, old, house in a tough neighborhood. The freedom and safety I felt in the garden apartments that were so familiar to me, was forever gone and replaced with “do not go off of the porch”. My sister, my mom, and I were on this lonely journey to find some kind of normalcy in a place of sadness, anger, disappointment, resentment, and for me just plain withdrawal. I withdrew from my mom, because she changed my world without consulting me on what I wanted. My sister was angry and mean, and my mother was sad and lost. What a team we were. I was determined to maintain the “fairytale” of my father and my importance in his life, so I called him often, but many times he did not return my calls. About two weeks after we left, I would call, but a woman would answer, and I quickly hung up the phone. Astonished that someone else would be answering the phone, I could not imagine what could possibly be going on. I soon realized that my father had been having a relationship outside of our home, and that he now had a new life with a new woman, who was also having a baby. What was left of my heart was crushed once again, but I didn’t give up. I wanted my daddy back, and I needed to do whatever to get him back whether he was putting forth an effort or not (there had to be some explanation as to why he kept making promises and braking them). I still called often, and he promised to come and see me, and often never showed up. I still didn’t give up and would get angry at my mother or sister if they said even an inkling of a negative comment about him. I defended him endlessly. I quickly realized that if I was going to have a relationship with him, I had to be a part of his new family…so that’s what I did. Over the next couple of years, I genuinely cared for his new wife and fell head over hills for my new little sister and later little brother. Unfortunately for me, though this period had some great times, the lows would forever stay with me and some of the things I witnessed would forever change the unrealistic fantasy that I had created of “my daddy” and “my new family”.

Though there were many problems between my mother and father, my mother did a hell of a great job of protecting me and shielding me from the worst of it. Now that I was enveloped in a new family dynamic and much older, that protection and shielding was gone. I won’t go into details, but I was exposed to most everything from alcoholism, drug abuse, awful arguments, inappropriate settings, manipulation (from all ends), and that is just to name a few…This went on from about 6th grade through high school.

Once I went to college, his second marriage had already ended very badly, drugs had become a big part of his life, and I made somewhat of a break from that life that was so very haunting for me. I stayed in contact with my stepmother, little sister and brother, but for the most part I was away and learning who I was, where I fit, and letting go of the image of a person that was never quite what I needed or wanted him to be. I periodically checked in on him, but at this time life really took a downward spiral for him. I remember during one of my breaks, I went to his house, and there were a bunch of strange men (drug dealers), and he was not there. He soon came in, and one of the guys commented on how beautiful his daughter was. Sensing danger, I quickly left with tears in my eyes, and looked back at him with tears in his eyes…after that there was years between our next encounter. I heard he had lost his job, his apartment, and was even on the streets for a while, but all I could do is block him and that experience out of my mind. I went on about my life and being a young college girl…

I had seen him briefly around the time my older sister got married, but then lost complete contact with him again. I had no idea where he was or how he was living. Once I got engaged, for some reason, the thought of not including him in this milestone of my life started to weigh heavily on my heart. I had not seen or heard from him in years at this point, but I went on a quest with my fiancé’s help to find him. We did find him and I introduced him to my prince, and we began a superficial, yet functional relationship. One night I called him, and we had a serious conversation. He was honest and answered a lot of questions and it was the first time I felt close to him in years. I invited him and his girlfriend over for dinner. I was so excited. My fiancé began to worry, because he saw me revert into “daddy’s girl” again. He saw the excitement in my eyes and the desire to reclaim that “fairytale” relationship again. When he tried to talk to me, I told him I was fine, just excited about the possibilities…after all this time, I still hadn’t given up on him…or the image…

I went to pick him up after work, and by the time we arrived to my apartment, all the excitement had deflated and I realized he is who he is, and though I made it through dinner without a hitch, I was completely disappointed. At the end of the evening, we dropped them off at their house, and I cried the whole way home…my prince held my hand and hugged me…and no words were necessary. It was that night that I was able to forgive my father for all he had done or “not done”, and it was that night that I decided to love him for who he was and not who I desired him to be. He was never going to be the Cosby dad…but nonetheless he was my dad.

Today, we have a nice relationship. We talk every few months. He has visited me in my home in Atlanta, and my kids refer to him as Pop Pop. They love him for all the reasons I did as a kid. He is cool, he is an artist, he is a musician, and he is human.

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A Sister’s Story…

I wrote this piece a while back...I am claiming that it will one day be published, but I wanted to share it with my readers...enjoy!

This story began about 14 years ago. I remember it like it was yesterday. I was sitting in a conference room at the Hilton Gateway in Newark, NJ. I was quite bored, when a message was sent to me to come outside. As I walked out of the meeting room, I spotted my sister with one of her neighbors. She looked frazzled, skinny, scared, tired, and she very calmly asked me if she could have my key. I took a big breath and said, “What’s going on sweetie?” She said, “I left and I just need to get the key so I can get in your house”. I said, ok, just wait a minute. I told my boss that I had a family emergency, and told her friend that I would take over from here. This was the start of a journey that would take my sister to places that she never wanted to go, confront issues she never wanted to face, and would ultimately lead her to the amazing, strong, trailblazer that she is today.

From the outside, Leah was beautiful, smart, educated, and had everything going for her, but on the inside she was living a sad, lonely, and unfulfilled life with a man that turned out to be her biggest nightmare. A vast array of family and societal issues that stemmed from childhood led Leah to be a very angry teenager. Her anger fueled her so much so that she masked the wounds of this period with being an overachiever. She did everything in her power to create a fantasy world much like a fairytale. During her high school years, she met a boy who from the start presented a pretty picture that seemed quite appealing. He was handsome, popular, and gave her expensive gifts. It seemed as though Cinderella had found her prince. They dated throughout high school and college. She was determined to create the picture of the life she thought she wanted. A life filled with status and material possessions. This life ultimately left her empty and lost.

He was her first and only love, so it never occurred to her that romantic love was anything but what she was experiencing. Status was everything in their world, so she continuously tried to improve upon the “image”. In the process she learned that she wasn’t skinny enough, so she lost weight. She wasn’t sexy enough, so she tried everything she could to get his attention. When he did not have the resources to support his extravagant lifestyle, she let him run her into debt. She attempted perfection, but was never “good” enough, and he used this to keep and control her in the relationship. She began to lose herself in this superficial word. Her self esteem was shattered, but you would have never known because on the outside she appeared “flawless”. Everyone whispered, “How did she end up with him”. Unfortunately, she was incapable of hearing the whispers, because she had no idea of how amazing she was. Her sense of worthiness was at an all time low, which is why she was desperately holding on to her “happy ending”. Ignoring all the “danger” signs, they decided to get married and appeared to have the perfect life. He was in politics, and she was a beautiful trophy wife. She entertained for all of the required functions, and always looked the part, but very few people knew the nightmare her life had become. She was not prepared to let people into her private hell and she didn’t recognize at the time that she needed help. The first sign that it was getting to be too much was when she was admitted into the hospital for heart palpitations. I went to the emergency room with tears in my eyes and panic in my heart to find her in ICU. It turned out that she had her first major anxiety attack. She did not realize it was directly related to the stress she had been under for years, or that the silent abuse of her relationship was starting to make her physically ill.

One evening, my husband and I had a long talk with her. After 20 years in this relationship, her life was completely out of control. Although she was desperately trying to hold on to her marriage, she suspected cheating, lying, and stealing. There were even times when she questioned her safety. We asked her blatantly, why are you staying? Her response was, “where am I going to go”. We both assured her that as long as we had a roof over our head, she would always have a place to go. After she left that night, my husband said to me, “she’s not going to do it”…and I agreed. Well she surprised us all because three days later, she pulled me from that conference room to ask me for my key. Soon after that, we had a family meeting at a local diner with my aunts and uncles where she released the secret pain she had been hiding throughout the relationship. This was the first time she allowed herself to be vulnerable to a network besides me. This is the first time she let her guard down enough to say, “I need help”. It didn’t take long before my uncle abruptly said to her, “Let’s go get your stuff now. There is no reason to wait.” A plan was immediately put into action. We all went to her apartment (at least 7 of us), with my uncle calmly telling her husband that he better let her get her stuff without drama. My uncle has a persuasive way of getting the outcome that he wants. We were able to get all of her clothes and as much of her personal belongings as possible, and she left everything else. She never returned to him, their apartment, or that life again. She never looked back…

The next several years were quite challenging. She was more vulnerable and fragile than I had ever seen her. She took great comfort in knowing that she was not alone, and that her support was never-ending, but she was scared and lonely. Bravely, she began to slowly shatter the wall that surrounded her for much of her life. She realized that she had to face unresolved issues from childhood, in order to understand why and where life had led her to this point. She began to forgive herself and others in order to let go of the anger and disappointment she was plagued with for so long. She got real with herself and the people around her. This allowed her to slowly move on, but the reality was that she had close to $43,000 in debt, no place to live, was an emotional wreck, and a job that was literally just paying the bills. She had already taken the first step which was acknowledgement, but she took the next step and got professional help. Concurrently, she began journal writing, which helped her release so much of her pain. Most importantly she found a safe haven in our home to be and do what she needed to do. She lived on our futon with five plastic drawers in our hall closet for about six months. She developed a budget and a plan (with the help of our mom) to get out of debt, and vowed that she would never struggle financially because of mismanagement of money again…and she has kept that promise. Once she was strong enough, she got her own apartment down the street from us. She used a card table for a kitchen set, she bought a mattress and box spring, and the family pitched in to get her a new television. Though there were many tears and sleepless nights, she never complained during this time. She was content to be on her way to finding peace. She had nothing that remotely resembled material wealth, but recognized her spiritual richness growing inside of her. She would not have exchanged that growing peace for all the money or status in the world. She began to go to church and seek a deeper relationship with God, and it is at this point that she began to look at her life and herself in a different manner. She slowly began to love herself from within and threw away the image that she worked so hard to create. She was raw and she was real, and this is who she is today. She took that first step, and the many baby steps in between, and before long she started taking big steps and gigantic leaps. She even started dating seriously again, which was another major turning point in her life…

Her new guy, a pilot, was offered his dream job for a major airline, but he would be stationed out of Miami, FL and wanted her to relocate with him. Now she was faced with the decision of leaving the security net she had found in her family, to start a new life with a man and no family or friends in site. I will never forget the day when she told me that she was thinking about moving to Florida. I thought my heart was going to break, but deep down I knew it was the best thing for her and it was time to let her fly. She started to execute her plan. She started disseminating her resume and the offers started coming in. By this time her career in healthcare administration had taken off. Once she let go of creating a fictional image, her life began to take shape naturally, and ironically she has more financial resources now than she ever dreamed of. She finished her Masters degree in Public Health Administration, and was working as the Director of Maternal Health at a hospital in North Jersey. The transition to Florida was so easy that she knew that it was God’s hands that were guiding her toward this move. She was offered a Chief Nursing Officer (CNO) position at a Tenet hospital in South Florida. They offered her an amazing package, great salary, and financed the entire move. So this brave sister, who had been through such a tremendous voyage, was now taking a leap of faith to start a new life in a new place. She left with the security of knowing that her village was strong, real, and only a phone call away. This was only the beginning of an amazing ride. Unfortunately, the relationship that brought her to Florida did not work out, but they remain friends, and they were blessed with a beautiful baby boy as a result of their time together.

A few years into the CNO position at Tenet Healthcare Systems, another opportunity became available in another healthcare system. Again, faced with the fear that change brings, she saw this as a new and challenging opportunity and decided to take yet another leap into the unknown. She took the Chief Nursing Officer position at Memorial Hospital Pembroke and under her leadership helped that hospital excel beyond expectations. As a leader, she is respected by every level of employee. This respect is earned because she keeps the experiences of her journey close to her heart. Her employees see a strong, confident, beautiful person, but they feel her soul and her commitment to each and every one of them. The combination of strength and confidence, mixed in with heart and soul makes her the dynamic leader that she is. She expects much from her employees, but she gives so much of herself to insure that they are successful under her watch. It is because she has come through so much that she is able to pull so many people up and out of their own situations just by being the astounding example that she is. She governs her operation with sincere integrity, which gives her employees the security that being a part of a family brings…they know she has their back, but they also know that in return they better perform to their highest ability. Her success at Memorial Pembroke was just the beginning, because they then moved her over to help design the new state of the art Memorial Hospital Miramar, which is where she then became their Chief Nursing Officer. This hospital has soared in all areas of customer service and has received numerous awards and acknowledgment for their high quality of service. What Leah has learned to expect is that as soon as she gets comfortable, God seems to stir things up a bit. Because of her outstanding performance in all of her roles in the Memorial Health Care System, she was recently promoted to the Administrator and CEO of Memorial Hospital Pembroke. Yes this little lady (she is only 5’3”) from Newark, NJ was announced as the first African American Woman CEO in this major hospital system. One of her colleagues recently asked her, how are you feeling? And she responded, “I feel overwhelmed with the love and support I’ve received from family, friends, and colleagues, but I feel an insurmountable amount of pressure to perform and perform well. I am the first African American Woman to be given this opportunity in this healthcare system, and I feel a great responsibility to be an example for my son, my nieces, nephews, and future young leaders so that they know they can and should dream big”. Leah’s commitment to quality healthcare is commendable, but she is also equally committed to being the best mom she can be, so in addition to her role as CEO, she also claims the role of Super Mom and Class Mom to her seven year old son DJ. Leah is a woman who has dreamed big, worked hard, and has proven that it is “ok” to want and have it all.

Leah’s story is inspiring to all, but specifically to women who find themselves in a valley. She is a testament to women who feel that there is no way out or no where to go. Sometimes you have to leave it all behind and take a leap. Sometimes you have to take baby steps, but you have to have faith that there is something bigger than yourself that will help you through. Leah’s faith is what got her through her journey, and her willingness to share and give of herself and her resources so abundantly is what keeps her blessings flowing.

Alicia
(One very proud 'lil' sister)

A Mother's Choice...

On February 18, 1998, while on our way to the hospital to deliver my first born, I had no idea how much my life would change. I didn't realize that I would never get a full nights rest, and that I would sleep with one eye open and one eye closed indefinitely.  Not only did my body change physically, but the way that I viewed everything from my career choices to simple everyday decisions would never be the same again. Where I always made decisions based on what was best for me, now everything revolved around what was best for my growing family. Prior to the birth of my first child, I had my career laid out. I completed my Master’s degree in Counseling, and was planning to move up the Administrative track in Higher Education. Upon returning to work after maternity leave, I went from doing whatever needed to be done at work to getting it ALL done by 4:30pm so I could get home to my baby girl. When a faculty position became available as a Counselor, I jumped at the chance to do what I had trained so hard for, but to be totally honest, the 9 week vacation schedule is what sealed the deal…again that meant more time for my growing angel. After my second child was born, the BIG decision needed to be made…return to work or stay home for a while to raise my children???? This decision was huge for me and caused lots of anxiety. The anxiety was there because my greatest fear was to give up my career (Me) and lose myself in my family. I talked for hours to my husband and those closest to me, but ultimately the decision was mine, and I chose to be a stay-home parent for 6 years. I did work part-time as an adjunct professor and a Social Service Coordinator at an After School Program, but my main “job” was being home and raising my kids.

At times, as I have watched and supported my husband in all of his career choices and achievements, I’ve thought, when will it be my turn? I am now back in the work world and I love my job, but though it is a wonderful blessing, I am still doing what works best for my family. I am able to work full time, but still have the flexibility to give my kids a “stay-home” parent experience. When my husband works late 3-4 times a week without worry of the kids, I get resentful because I have never had that luxury since becoming a parent. But then again, would I want it? My husband is a great provider and works hard at everything that he does, and we are always on the sidelines cheering him on. His career continues to soar and I am his biggest fan, but I would be lying if I don’t sometimes wonder where could/would I be if I had as much time as he does to put into my own career??? As quickly as those thoughts come, they also flee. They flee because I am where I chose to be, and when I look at my children (my greatest gifts), I realize that all of the sacrifices we have made is well worth it. And if I am completely honest, I know that if I had the opportunity to be somewhere else following my “career” dreams, my heart would be at home wondering what is going on with my three jewels. So, in some ways, my biggest fear did come true…I did lose myself in my family, but what is crystal clear is that it was worth it, and my time is coming. I enjoy my job, and take the time I need for myself.  I do the things I love doing (like writing this blog), and I am planning for “my day”, because when it comes, it is going to be BIG. For now I am enjoying just that, the "NOW", which is filled with so many blessings each day!

What I love most about being a woman/mother in today's society is that we have choices. Sometimes making these choices is the hardest thing in the world, but we have them, which is such a blessing. There is no right or wrong decision or way of being a mom. No matter what choice you have made, there are pros and cons, ups and downs that are to come later. It is how we deal with those challenges along the way that defines who we are and what we believe in.

This is my story, but this piece is dedicated to all the mothers who have to make hard choices/sacrifices everyday: The working mom who is juggling to balance work and family and being a star at both, the single mom who is doing it all by herself and doing it well, the stay-home mom who battles to keep a sense of self while being the CEO of her family, the newly divorced mom who is trying everything to protect her babies from the hurt that divorce causes, and the list goes on. In all scenarios, we are all trying to find our way and give our children the best we have to give.

Happy Mother’s Day to all in the sisterhood of being a “mommy”!

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