<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6381864436087222555</id><updated>2012-01-07T10:24:08.884-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Woman's Worth</title><subtitle type='html'>A journey to living a life of purpose and worth...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womansworthiness.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6381864436087222555/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womansworthiness.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Alicia Booker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15096324252848897597</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OwmywfFuIeY/SrE_qkPwXUI/AAAAAAAAABM/QtOVbkk5ibE/S220/Alicia.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>20</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6381864436087222555.post-7856258310523781045</id><published>2011-12-28T11:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-28T11:47:25.207-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Living Outside the Bubble in 2012</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;This year has been one of discovery; discovery on so many different levels, but mostly within myself.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;Every year I thank God for the abundant blessings in my life.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;I have an awesome husband who loves every ounce of me (the good, bad, annoying, etc.).&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;I have three phenomenal kids that far exceed any dreams I had of what and who they would be.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;I have a beautiful house that we have truly made a home.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;I have a job that has turned into a career that I love getting up to go to every day.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;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.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;What I discovered in 2011 is the something that was missing is me…&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;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.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;But others that are reading this understand exactly where I am coming from.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;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.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;I’ve followed all the “rules”.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;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.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;I’ve placed these high expectations for myself and others and created a bubble in which I lived my safe pretty life.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;This year however, I discovered that people are human and having&amp;nbsp;unrealistic standards&amp;nbsp;ultimately leave you feeling let down and empty.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;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.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; I am not saying that you should live your life without standards.&amp;nbsp; However, my&lt;/span&gt; light bulb moment this year&amp;nbsp;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.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;That is a safe place, but is it fulfilling?&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;Though discovering the answer to that question was a painful journey, I realized the answer is no.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;That was mind boggling for me, because in my bubble I didn’t allow myself to even consider the question.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;For most of my life I’ve been committed to trying to meet every expectation I could think of for everyone else and myself.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;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.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;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.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;What I am finding is that everyone in my bubble is enjoying life and "me"&amp;nbsp;more now that it has popped. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;So what does this mean???&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;I really don’t know the answer to that question.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;The answers evolves each day.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;I know that I’ve allowed myself to feel prettier, sexier, more confident and powerful.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;I’ve even bought some things just for me (without picking up anything for anyone else).&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;When I workout I feel&amp;nbsp;strong&amp;nbsp;and I’ve even noticed that others are feeling the energy that is coming from within me.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;My writing is evolving and opportunities are opening up.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;My job has given me the opportunity to travel more, and I am allowing myself to see more of the world through different lenses.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; Stay tuned for more...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;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.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;They say that 2012 may be the end of the world.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;Whether this is true or not, shouldn’t we live each day as if it is the last?&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;In 2012, find what is missing, find your joy,&amp;nbsp;and live outside the bubble…just a little ;-)!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6381864436087222555-7856258310523781045?l=womansworthiness.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womansworthiness.blogspot.com/feeds/7856258310523781045/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://womansworthiness.blogspot.com/2011/12/living-outside-bubble-in-2012.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6381864436087222555/posts/default/7856258310523781045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6381864436087222555/posts/default/7856258310523781045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womansworthiness.blogspot.com/2011/12/living-outside-bubble-in-2012.html' title='Living Outside the Bubble in 2012'/><author><name>Alicia Booker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15096324252848897597</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OwmywfFuIeY/SrE_qkPwXUI/AAAAAAAAABM/QtOVbkk5ibE/S220/Alicia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6381864436087222555.post-581172193891856682</id><published>2011-08-01T11:20:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-01T14:20:10.109-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Stuck in The Mud...</title><content type='html'>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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6381864436087222555-581172193891856682?l=womansworthiness.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womansworthiness.blogspot.com/feeds/581172193891856682/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://womansworthiness.blogspot.com/2011/08/stuck-in-mud.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6381864436087222555/posts/default/581172193891856682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6381864436087222555/posts/default/581172193891856682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womansworthiness.blogspot.com/2011/08/stuck-in-mud.html' title='Stuck in The Mud...'/><author><name>Alicia Booker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15096324252848897597</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OwmywfFuIeY/SrE_qkPwXUI/AAAAAAAAABM/QtOVbkk5ibE/S220/Alicia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6381864436087222555.post-4005559102849445382</id><published>2011-01-14T00:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-14T00:49:24.989-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Humanness...</title><content type='html'>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”. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6381864436087222555-4005559102849445382?l=womansworthiness.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womansworthiness.blogspot.com/feeds/4005559102849445382/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://womansworthiness.blogspot.com/2011/01/humanness.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6381864436087222555/posts/default/4005559102849445382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6381864436087222555/posts/default/4005559102849445382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womansworthiness.blogspot.com/2011/01/humanness.html' title='Humanness...'/><author><name>Alicia Booker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15096324252848897597</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OwmywfFuIeY/SrE_qkPwXUI/AAAAAAAAABM/QtOVbkk5ibE/S220/Alicia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6381864436087222555.post-431481929225473222</id><published>2010-10-07T13:33:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-07T13:34:29.453-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Friends...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;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. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;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”. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;My life in Atlanta was one of a stay home mom, and I was beginning to feel quite isolated,&amp;nbsp;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&amp;nbsp;making "ourselves" better. Our friendship makes me smile because it is gentle and nurturing, and though&amp;nbsp;it can be really strong and deep, it is sweet and light.&amp;nbsp; Five years later, it is&amp;nbsp;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.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;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.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;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&amp;nbsp;invited me to come visit her that spring for the infamous (Freaknic).&amp;nbsp; 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. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;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,&amp;nbsp;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.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;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. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6381864436087222555-431481929225473222?l=womansworthiness.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womansworthiness.blogspot.com/feeds/431481929225473222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://womansworthiness.blogspot.com/2010/10/friends.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6381864436087222555/posts/default/431481929225473222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6381864436087222555/posts/default/431481929225473222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womansworthiness.blogspot.com/2010/10/friends.html' title='Friends...'/><author><name>Alicia Booker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15096324252848897597</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OwmywfFuIeY/SrE_qkPwXUI/AAAAAAAAABM/QtOVbkk5ibE/S220/Alicia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6381864436087222555.post-3182974414636220838</id><published>2010-09-13T11:39:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-14T09:38:49.076-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Daddy's Girl...</title><content type='html'>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...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Note from the author...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you like what you read on&amp;nbsp;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;A Woman's Worth&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, please click the follow button on the left side of the blog...I am trying to build my following, and I truly appreciate your time and support...If you have a comment or story to share...please post a comment...I love hearing your thoughts, stories, and light bulb moments...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6381864436087222555-3182974414636220838?l=womansworthiness.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womansworthiness.blogspot.com/feeds/3182974414636220838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://womansworthiness.blogspot.com/2010/09/daddys-girl.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6381864436087222555/posts/default/3182974414636220838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6381864436087222555/posts/default/3182974414636220838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womansworthiness.blogspot.com/2010/09/daddys-girl.html' title='Daddy&apos;s Girl...'/><author><name>Alicia Booker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15096324252848897597</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OwmywfFuIeY/SrE_qkPwXUI/AAAAAAAAABM/QtOVbkk5ibE/S220/Alicia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6381864436087222555.post-7313605397704078783</id><published>2010-06-04T07:38:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-04T07:38:39.984-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Sister’s Story…</title><content type='html'>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!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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… &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alicia&lt;br /&gt;(One very proud 'lil' sister)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6381864436087222555-7313605397704078783?l=womansworthiness.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womansworthiness.blogspot.com/feeds/7313605397704078783/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://womansworthiness.blogspot.com/2010/06/sisters-story.html#comment-form' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6381864436087222555/posts/default/7313605397704078783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6381864436087222555/posts/default/7313605397704078783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womansworthiness.blogspot.com/2010/06/sisters-story.html' title='A Sister’s Story…'/><author><name>Alicia Booker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15096324252848897597</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OwmywfFuIeY/SrE_qkPwXUI/AAAAAAAAABM/QtOVbkk5ibE/S220/Alicia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6381864436087222555.post-4453668332276190915</id><published>2010-05-07T21:54:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-07T22:49:05.758-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Mother's Choice...</title><content type='html'>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.&amp;nbsp;I didn't realize&amp;nbsp;that I would never get a full nights rest, and that I would sleep with one eye open and one eye closed indefinitely.&amp;nbsp; 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&amp;nbsp;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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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&amp;nbsp;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&amp;nbsp;gifts), I realize that all of the sacrifices &lt;strong&gt;we&lt;/strong&gt; 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&amp;nbsp;is that&amp;nbsp;it&amp;nbsp;was worth it, and&amp;nbsp;my time is coming. I enjoy my job, and take the time I need for myself.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;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!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Mother’s Day to all in the sisterhood of being a “mommy”!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you like what you are reading and want to read more, please click the "follow" button on the left side as I continue to grow my readership...It will really help me!!!&lt;br /&gt;As always, I appreciate your time and hope you come back again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6381864436087222555-4453668332276190915?l=womansworthiness.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womansworthiness.blogspot.com/feeds/4453668332276190915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://womansworthiness.blogspot.com/2010/05/mothers-choice.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6381864436087222555/posts/default/4453668332276190915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6381864436087222555/posts/default/4453668332276190915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womansworthiness.blogspot.com/2010/05/mothers-choice.html' title='A Mother&apos;s Choice...'/><author><name>Alicia Booker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15096324252848897597</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OwmywfFuIeY/SrE_qkPwXUI/AAAAAAAAABM/QtOVbkk5ibE/S220/Alicia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6381864436087222555.post-5259909670396319465</id><published>2010-04-22T22:59:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-22T22:59:08.403-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Fighting and Forgiveness…</title><content type='html'>I can honestly say that among a number of lessons I’ve learned during my first year of the fabulous forties, two in particular stand out. I’ve learned to stop fighting…in all areas of my life. Equally important, I’ve learned that forgiveness gives you the freedom to let peace dwell in your heart. Forgiveness of yourself and of others…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Giving up the fight....&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When my family first moved to Atlanta it was a challenge to say the least. I had never lived anywhere other than New Jersey. My roots, my family, my friends all originated in New Jersey. I married in Jersey and started my family there too. I created a safe cocoon where all of my happiness dwelled. When we decided to embark on the adventure south, I was filled with the excitement that something new brings, but at the same time I was allowing my family to break out of the safety and security that our cocoon has always provided. As we all turned into butterflies and began to fly…we began flying in different directions. At times, I found myself terrified, lonely, and fighting to get back to where I felt safe and secure. But once you break free, there is no turning back to what was, instead you have to begin to define what is to be. During this process I’ve often felt that I was searching for something and fighting anything that got in the way of “my happy little home”. For those of you who have followed my writing over the last year, or who have been intimately a part of the journey, you have witnessed the metamorphosis that has happened not only within me spiritually, but also in my marriage, my friendships, and my family. Over the last year, I stopped searching and more importantly I stopped fighting. I began to trust in the foundation of trust and friendship that has always been there. I stopped fighting to keep things the way they were, but to embrace things and people as they are…including me. At times, I wondered why I felt like some of the people in our “Atlanta Friendship Circle” just didn’t get me. In my fight to “keep it all intact”, I sometimes resisted new friendships, and to some came across as stuck up, judgmental, and appearing to be “above” it all. What I realized recently is that (not consciously) I may have contributed to that perception of me. I have learned that no “one” is above it all and “life happens” to all of us. Instead of internally or externally passing judgment or casting my opinion on anyone or situation, I now try to figure out how I can be of service to make a situation better. Even if that means just keeping my mouth shut. Giving a hug, sending a text message or email, or simply smiling at someone going through a rough patch can make the difference in someone getting through a tough day. It has helped me, so I know the power of a kind gesture. What has transformed over this last year of “working through some stuff” is a much lighter, happier, and peaceful Alicia. In fact, I think the “lighter” side of Alicia is surprising to some who have experienced a more intense, serious side of me all the time. Don’t get me wrong…some things never change, and I will always be intense, but I’ve also learned to lighten up “A Lot”…and I am enjoying my spirituality, my husband, my kids, my family, my friends, and my life in general so much more. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Forgiveness...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A major challenge this year was going through a really tough patch with two very good friends. One of those friendships is really more like a family member, and our friendship had gotten lost in the voyage of “life” and all of the issues that can compound a situation. In the end, again the foundation that was there from the beginning was able to withstand all of our own insecurities, inadequacies, and pridefullness. Though both of us could have handled a number of situations better, we did the best we could in the place that we were.&amp;nbsp;We started this New Year with a conscious decision to move past the pain, disappointment, and hurt and move on to a new existence where the familiarity of what was is present, but also a new commitment to be better than we were is at the forefront.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; The second friendship that was tested was more of a new friendship, but yet the sting was equally tough to endure. What I learned in both situations is that authentic communication is important to maintaining a “real and healthy” relationship. When feelings are suppressed, resentment can easily creep in and cloud your judgment, which only leads to an ugly interaction between people that ultimately really care about each other. What was key in both of these situations is the power of forgiveness. It does wonders for your soul. Forgiveness first to yourself for whatever your part was, and forgiveness to others because we all are human and we all make mistakes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, to sum it all up, I am truly feeling forty and fabulous these days. I’ve accomplished so much this year including winning a writing contest and running two 5k races.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To all those whose spirit is not at peace, and you know there is a better place for you, I leave you with these words…”the work is hard, heartbreaking at times, and completely terrifying, but I am here to testify (though I have far to go) that working through your “stuff” is so worth it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would love to hear about others who have “a story” to share…What have you had to work through over the last year(s) that has made you who you are today???? Please follow and share!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6381864436087222555-5259909670396319465?l=womansworthiness.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womansworthiness.blogspot.com/feeds/5259909670396319465/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://womansworthiness.blogspot.com/2010/04/fighting-and-forgiveness.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6381864436087222555/posts/default/5259909670396319465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6381864436087222555/posts/default/5259909670396319465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womansworthiness.blogspot.com/2010/04/fighting-and-forgiveness.html' title='Fighting and Forgiveness…'/><author><name>Alicia Booker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15096324252848897597</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OwmywfFuIeY/SrE_qkPwXUI/AAAAAAAAABM/QtOVbkk5ibE/S220/Alicia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6381864436087222555.post-7156931184150642394</id><published>2010-04-11T02:56:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-11T03:00:44.227-04:00</updated><title type='text'>For Better or Worse...</title><content type='html'>My second date with my now husband was to a bible study at his church. It was ironic that the pastor was teaching about the word love. He broke down the difference between “falling” in love, and making a conscious decision to be in&amp;nbsp;love. That bible study session really helped to form the foundation of our relationship. Though at times our bond appeared quite “fairytale-ish”, it has always been far from that. We made a conscious decision almost 17 years ago to be in love and to stay in love…This has not always been an easy ride, but love is just that…a journey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Saturday evening seven couples got together for dinner and a movie. Of these couples, all were married and the length of time varied from newlyweds to approaching 20 years. As we all embraced and waited to be seated for dinner, the men naturally gravitated towards each other, as the women caught up on what’s been going on since we last saw each other. Somehow the ladies conversation led to marriage and we all found ourselves giving some words of wisdom to the recently married young lady. It wasn’t a male bashing or even a marriage “woe is me” session, but more of honest expressions of the ups and downs that is a marriage. One person eloquently stated that it is not a fairytale. Life hits you hard, and it is your friendship and foundation that will or will not see you through the valleys that we ALL go through. As we sat down for dinner, I felt a sense of pride that in this day and age, there were seven couples that have beaten the statistics of divorce. Each couple is going through their own drama in their individual worlds, but we were all able to come together and put it all aside for a couple of hours. We were able to laugh at ourselves, our mates, and just enjoy being with others that are traveling similar paths. I have no idea what the future holds for any of us, but the fact that we have made it this far is an accomplishment in itself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be completely honest, I wasn’t sure how the evening was going to turn out. There had been some trepidation from some of the guys that they didn’t want the evening to turn into an argument, especially since the movie that we were going to see was “Why Did I Get Married Too”. Coming together with all these different personalities was therapeutic for all. Though dinner conversation never got too heavy, what was evident is that we ALL have had to come through something to get to where we are now. It is comforting to know that you are not the only couple who have had dark days, and that no matter how pretty the picture on the outside looks, we all have our battles to fight. I remember my wedding day like it was yesterday. I absolutely felt beautiful and happy from the inside out. I had no idea that the “prettiness” of the day would lead to a voyage of amazing peaks and scary valleys. As our dinner closed and the conversation came to an end, one of the guys left us all with some very poignant words of wisdom. I will try to sum it up in my own words…what he expressed was that marriage is not easy, but it is worth fighting for. Do what is necessary to keep it, nurture it, fix it, and make the decision that there is no other option than to make it work. That is not to say that you should stay and make something work that brings you no joy, or is physically/mentally abusive. What he was saying is not to just throw in the towel when things don’t work out exactly the way that you imagined. Tap into that “something” that made you “fall” in love in the first place. The movie was a bust…but touched upon real issues that married couples face. Date night with some really great friends was fun and a much appreciated night out. We should do it more often. We need to be a source of strength and encouragement to each other as we continue to navigate through our lives as husbands and wives. At one point I wondered what the newlyweds must have been thinking, but they have one up on all of us…They got to witness the stories of married veterans, which is more than most of us had when we started our journeys. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our next date night is coming soon...Look for the Evite :-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6381864436087222555-7156931184150642394?l=womansworthiness.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womansworthiness.blogspot.com/feeds/7156931184150642394/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://womansworthiness.blogspot.com/2010/04/for-better-or-worse.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6381864436087222555/posts/default/7156931184150642394'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6381864436087222555/posts/default/7156931184150642394'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womansworthiness.blogspot.com/2010/04/for-better-or-worse.html' title='For Better or Worse...'/><author><name>Alicia Booker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15096324252848897597</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OwmywfFuIeY/SrE_qkPwXUI/AAAAAAAAABM/QtOVbkk5ibE/S220/Alicia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6381864436087222555.post-5189019798156742093</id><published>2010-03-04T21:05:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-04T21:24:58.824-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Season of Waiting...</title><content type='html'>It seems most blessings come after you have had to wait a substantial amount of time to receive them. Most of us are impatient, and waiting is very difficult. So much so, that we sometimes sabotage our outcomes from acting too hastily. I find myself in a season which requires me to be still and wait. I know that this test is from God, but nonetheless, I am anxious to find out what is next for me in almost every area of my life. Throughout each day, as thoughts of doubt and worry enter my mind, I consistently have to replace those feelings with the faith that good things are to come and that God works things out for me…He always has. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whether it be a turbulent relationship, a career change or choice, or whether you are looking to start a family; finding the balance between doing everything in your power and&amp;nbsp;waiting for God to reveal his plan can be &amp;nbsp; challenging and not always clear. In the case of a relationship whether it be romantic or platonic in nature, before making changes we always ask ourselves did we do enough to repair the situation. Sometimes we act on emotion and retreat before God has had a chance to work a miracle. Other times we remain stagnant, even after God has given us a million signs that it is time to make some changes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When changing or growing in your career or business, you can do all that is in your power, but much of it is in God’s hands and time. For example, you can do everything that is expected of you at work and even attempt to go above and beyond, but until an opportunity for growth is available you have to wait. If you are trying to change careers, you can get training, update and submit your resume, and even have personal references, but until the timing is right, you have to wait. In this case, maybe the blessing is so huge you haven’t even been able to conceive of it in your mind. In that case, God knows that you are not ready, and maybe the blessing will be birthed in your “waiting zone”. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When planning to have a family, the decision usually takes much thought and preparation. Once you’ve made the decision you have to wait for conception to happen. For some, it is instantaneous or even unexpected. For others the process is long and grueling, but the blessings that come are all part of the process. Sometimes we wait for that awesome moment, and within months it is taken away through miscarriage. Other times, it just seems that being a parent is just not something God will bless you with. Or maybe it is the blessings of medical technology or adoption that will bring you your hearts desire…Whatever the situation…waiting is involved. Even once pregnancy or adoption is given, you have to go through a process in order to receive your blessing. It is in that process that so much is formed both inside and outside of the body. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During pregnancy, the waiting period is where vital organs and systems&amp;nbsp;are formed and little toes/ fingers are given time to grow. During that same waiting period, you are given the time you need to reorganize your life for the change that is about to happen, and if any part of the development is compromised, complications could occur. The same is the case for adoption. The process can be lengthy and difficult, but packed with great learning opportunities along the way that will prepare you for the&amp;nbsp;complicated journey of parenthood that is to follow. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whatever the situation, no matter how big or small, the season of waiting, though absolutely necessary, can seem never-ending.&amp;nbsp;It is at&amp;nbsp;this time that we must seek God’s presence and guidance&amp;nbsp;in everything. God has a plan for our life and sometimes that plan is much different than the plan we have for ourselves. We absolutely have to be proactive with the desires of our heart, but when you have done all you can possibly do, you have to raise your arms, have faith, be still, and listen to&amp;nbsp;God’s word. It is when we sincerely let go, let God,&amp;nbsp;and embrace the "waiting" process, that our greatest blessings will come. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have experienced and believe these words&amp;nbsp;in the core of my being, but nonetheless, I often find myself in a season of waiting, and it continues to be an uncomfortable&amp;nbsp;and challenging place for me. Maybe, though I speak the words,&amp;nbsp;it is&amp;nbsp;a test I have not yet passed.&amp;nbsp;We all have a tendency to listen to the voice that says our dreams are unattainable or undiscoverable, and we sometimes let our mind sabatoge us from attaining our greatest states of being.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;We have to actively quiet those voices and replace them with the knowledge that it will all work out in God's time...and yes this may&amp;nbsp;very well mean that waiting is involved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please share your “waiting story”…we all have one, or two, or three.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6381864436087222555-5189019798156742093?l=womansworthiness.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womansworthiness.blogspot.com/feeds/5189019798156742093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://womansworthiness.blogspot.com/2010/03/season-of-waiting.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6381864436087222555/posts/default/5189019798156742093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6381864436087222555/posts/default/5189019798156742093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womansworthiness.blogspot.com/2010/03/season-of-waiting.html' title='The Season of Waiting...'/><author><name>Alicia Booker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15096324252848897597</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OwmywfFuIeY/SrE_qkPwXUI/AAAAAAAAABM/QtOVbkk5ibE/S220/Alicia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6381864436087222555.post-5442012617741206427</id><published>2010-02-10T20:01:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-11T12:43:01.212-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday Amber Imani...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OwmywfFuIeY/S3Lx_DFT7oI/AAAAAAAAADE/wfe8fpDkPKI/s1600-h/Amber+and+Mom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" kt="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OwmywfFuIeY/S3Lx_DFT7oI/AAAAAAAAADE/wfe8fpDkPKI/s200/Amber+and+Mom.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can it be? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Almost twelve years&amp;nbsp;have passed already…. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember it so clearly. I woke up eagerly anticipating my yearly OB/GYN appointment. I was excited because I was going to share with the Dr. that we had decided to get pregnant, and that in fact I thought that I was pregnant. As the appointment continued, she informed me that I was not yet pregnant, and that my period was due any day. I am still not sure how she could figure that out, but I left very disappointed and deflated. It was really weird because maybe a week before, I had this really strange feeling in the middle of the night. It woke me up, and I wrote in my journal that I felt conception happen and that I was pregnant. After seeing the Dr., I wasn’t quite sure. Two weeks went by and still no period. After three negative pregnancy tests, I decided what’s one more. So I took the test very haphazardly, and started doing something else. When I returned to look at it…it was positive. OMG, I screamed. I ran into the living room to tell my husband, and he said how do you know??? I said the two lines mean pregnant. He said, “Let’s get a different brand just to make sure”. So I went out and got the EPT (error proof test), and they were all positive…WE WERE PREGNANT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OwmywfFuIeY/S3LzdJ4Mj5I/AAAAAAAAADM/dJVCCRvcyCo/s1600-h/Obama+Kids.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="149" kt="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OwmywfFuIeY/S3LzdJ4Mj5I/AAAAAAAAADM/dJVCCRvcyCo/s200/Obama+Kids.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Instantly upon realizing I was pregnant, I felt special. The sun shined over me during my whole pregnancy. The angels literally sang as I performed my regular activities like grocery shopping or washing clothes. God chose me to be a mom and I was floating through life and pregnancy with this angelic glow. On February 19, 1998, Amber Imani Booker was born, and from the moment I saw her I fell in love with this beautiful creature that God gave to me to care for and raise. I never knew love like that before…and experienced it after the birth of each of my children. Deep, intense, terrifying, amazing LOVE. She was a perfect little buttercup in the hospital. All the nurses commented on how sweet she was, and I just smiled bursting with pride. We brought her home to family and friends who were as taken with her as I. Our first night home was perfect until about 3:00am. She cried for about 2-3 hours for no apparent reason. I just didn’t get it. This was not how my angelic story was supposed to continue. From that night on, she cried every night for about three months from 8:00pm – 12:00am, and I just didn’t understand why the angels weren’t singing anymore. I guess that was God’s way of bringing me back to earth and socking me with the reality that motherhood is not angelic, nor do you hear beautiful music as you make it through each day, each age, or stage. Some days are grueling and full of many tears and heartache…but worth every minute.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OwmywfFuIeY/S3L0SgS3VrI/AAAAAAAAADU/wG7vhYzCU9Q/s1600-h/Amber+Headshot+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" kt="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OwmywfFuIeY/S3L0SgS3VrI/AAAAAAAAADU/wG7vhYzCU9Q/s200/Amber+Headshot+2.JPG" width="133" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Twelve years later, my Amber Imani, is a young girl approaching young womanhood. Although she is still perfect in my eyes, over the last twelve years, through each stage; the toddler years, kindergarten, grade school, and now middle school there is always some obstacle or incident that reminds me that she is human, and so am I. What makes Amber Imani so amazing is that her imperfections are what make her so special. During the toddler years, she ate wood chips and bit a kid…What? Not my child? After intense counseling from my mother in-law, I made it through those first bumps in the road. Then kindergarten came, and the teacher informed me that Amber was struggling with focusing and staying on task. Mom went into panic mode, while Dad was like please…she should see some of my students. Well as most of you know, Amber’s mom is quite “extra”, so we have gone over and above using strategies to help keep her on track. Although she has gotten frustrated with herself and more so me, she has done everything in her power to compensate for those areas, and continues to excel in school as an honor roll student in gifted classes. Amber is one of the most determined people I know. When she resolves to do something that is important to her, trust me it will get done. Of course extra Mom and Dad are always there pushing her along, but she does it. When I look at her, I am in awe of the confident, beautiful, passionate young person that she is. Although I see a lot of myself and my husband in her, there is so much of her that is just who she is and what God has blessed her with. She has a compassion for people and their hearts like no other person I know. She is very perceptive, and seems to know exactly what you need just when you need it the most. She is an awesome friend, and often times her friends come to her for advice or just a friendly ear to listen to their problems, and boy do kids experience their share of problems these days. Amber reminds me of the character, “May”, in The Secret Life of Bees”, where the hardships of her peers and family really affect her, and she sometimes has a hard time letting them go. She so wants the world to be this euphoric place of harmony and happiness (I have no idea where she gets this from), and when the realities of our world touches her world, it doesn’t sit right with her. Her middle name simply means “Faith”, and because of her special light, raw talent, and determination; I have faith that her spirit will do much to add more sunshine to our world. I also believe she will be a massive agent of change as she discovers her place and purpose.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OwmywfFuIeY/S3L1pLQCUkI/AAAAAAAAADc/RV0IIsdJD0k/s1600-h/IMG_9763.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" kt="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OwmywfFuIeY/S3L1pLQCUkI/AAAAAAAAADc/RV0IIsdJD0k/s200/IMG_9763.JPG" width="133" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Amber exudes confidence, which I have to thank my husband for. He began teaching her African American History and all kinds of history since she was in the cradle. Since she could talk, he showed her how to shake a person’s hand with confidence and introduce herself looking people in their eyes. At her young age, she can work a room and charm most people of all ages. Sometimes I just sit back and watch her and think…”WOW”. She loves acting and is awesome at public speaking, again much like her father, who is a dynamic speaker. My heart still pumps triple time and the sweat falls down my back every time I have to speak in public. Whenever Amber has to do something where speaking in public is involved, I will ask her, "are you nervous", and she simple says, "no", and does her thing. Again, most times, I sit back and I am astonished that this magnificent young person came from me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you can see, I adore my first born. As she celebrates her twelfth birthday, I continue to thank God for creating such a gift for me and my husband to raise and enjoy. She is not only a gift to us, but also to everyone else who is touched by her remarkable spirit. My wish for her is to continue to be true to herself, her beliefs, and her values. I also wish for her the ability to accept others through their imperfections. This is something that we are working on, because Amber holds the bar high not only for herself, but for others in her life. We are working on teaching her that God gives us the ability to make choices, and that we will not always make the “correct” choices, but we have to forgive ourselves and others when mistakes happen. Recently, she experienced a situation where she made the wrong choice, and had to make things right with two of her best friends. I had to do very little parenting, because she was so distraught at making the wrong choice, that she did everything (more than was needed in my opinion) to make it right. Again, I sat back and thought…”WOW”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I admire my daughter already, and she has only just begun her journey. This piece is for her, so that she knows that mommy (and Daddy) is her biggest fan. I believe that she was brought into this world for a phenomenal purpose, and I value her as a person more than she can possibly know. I look forward to watching her grow into the young woman she will become, and I look forward to the friendship we will have as she becomes an adult. For now though…although we are tight as thieves…I am mommy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Birthday Amber Imani!&lt;br /&gt;I love you with my whole heart!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6381864436087222555-5442012617741206427?l=womansworthiness.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womansworthiness.blogspot.com/feeds/5442012617741206427/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://womansworthiness.blogspot.com/2010/02/happy-birthday-amber-imani.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6381864436087222555/posts/default/5442012617741206427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6381864436087222555/posts/default/5442012617741206427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womansworthiness.blogspot.com/2010/02/happy-birthday-amber-imani.html' title='Happy Birthday Amber Imani...'/><author><name>Alicia Booker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15096324252848897597</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OwmywfFuIeY/SrE_qkPwXUI/AAAAAAAAABM/QtOVbkk5ibE/S220/Alicia.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OwmywfFuIeY/S3Lx_DFT7oI/AAAAAAAAADE/wfe8fpDkPKI/s72-c/Amber+and+Mom.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6381864436087222555.post-7613775222781694098</id><published>2010-01-29T23:04:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-29T23:12:07.229-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Guardian Angel</title><content type='html'>At every juncture of my life, no matter how dark or gray it might have seemed, God has always sent me what I needed when I needed it most. Since I could remember, I had a special connection with one of my uncles. In my family we affectionately call him “Clean”. As a little girl, I lit up when ever I saw him. From an early age, he referred to me as “His Angel”. He is less than 10 years older than me, and more like a big brother than an uncle, but his presence always put a smile on my face. In our family, Clean was someone that protected us all. If someone was bothering any of the girls in our family, Clean took care of it. We all put him on a pedestal, and to be honest, we still do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was around 11 years old, Clean moved away for an extended period of time, and I thought my heart would break. At this point he was in his late teens, early twenties, and I didn’t see him very often, but when I did see him my heart just melted. The thought of not seeing him, even rarely, filled me with great sadness. I still remember the day I had to say goodbye, after my mom made him a going away dinner. I really didn’t appreciate that he brought his girlfriend to the dinner, as I didn’t feel as though I should have to share him when I wasn’t going to see him for a long time. Needless to say, I pretended to like her, and enjoyed our last evening together. And poof…he was gone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While he was away, I was approaching my teen years, which were very challenging for me. I was experiencing the normal growing pains of that period, which were compounded with some serious family issues. I was sad, lonely, and lost at this time in my life. My parents had just divorced, and I hopelessly wanted my father back, but more than that, I just yearned for my father to follow through. There were times when he said he was coming to pick me up, and I waited for hours with no sign of him insight. My heart sunk each time this happened, and it was often. We lived in a new, tougher neighborhood, so my mother didn’t allow me off the porch, so I experienced hours of isolation and loneliness. At this time, my mother and sister were overwhelmed with their own issues. As you can imagine, it was an extremely&amp;nbsp;rough time for me. One day, feeling overwhelmingly troubled, about a week after my uncle departed, I received a letter. It started with “How is the most Beautiful Angel in the world…” Beautiful was the farthest from what I felt at that time. I was very skinny (Like the kids in the commercial from Ethiopia skinny), started to experience acne, underdeveloped, and had no idea how to do my hair; but when I got that letter I felt beautiful. I couldn’t wait to write him back, and I couldn’t wait to receive another letter from him. Again, it always started with “My Beautiful Angel”, and I would melt each time. At this time, when my life seemed very dark, it was the anticipation of these letters that brought sunshine into my days. It was like I held a special secret in my heart as I went through my daily activities. One day, instead of a letter, there was a package waiting for me. In the package was a handmade framed mirror with a picture of Clean imbeded inside that said, “Alicia you are my Ultimate Love”. Needless to say, I walked around hugging that mirror day and night. Now, I was not the only person enthralled with my Uncle Brother, we all were. But you can best believe I made sure everyone knew that I was the only one that he made a mirror for…My sister and Aunts quickly got tired of me and that mirror. Anyway, time passed and these letters brought me so much joy. One day I received a letter that said I am going to be coming home sooner than expected, and the first person I am going to see is my angel….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember it like it was yesterday. I couldn't wait for shool to end, and I waited anxiously for the door&amp;nbsp;bell to ring.&amp;nbsp; Sadly, the day came quickly to an end. Heartbroken that he had not come, I started to get ready for another day. I was in the shower with a shower cap on my head when the door rang. I remember my mother and sister being very excited as they opened the door, and they called me downstairs. Right away I completely panicked, because his “Beautiful Angel” looked a hot mess. I got myself together the best I could, and came downstairs. I hugged him and was completely star struck. I was unable to say much at all, but I felt like the luckiest girl in the world. Clean was home and all in the world was good. Regular visits resumed. He was very handsome…fine handsome, so he had many girlfriends, which I wasn’t thrilled about. I was just happy to hold such a special place in his heart. Sometimes this was problematic because some of the girls he dated didn’t like how he put me, my sister and his sisters on a pedestal….He always made it clear from the start that if his family needed him; he was there in a heartbeat. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was just about to turn thirteen and he began a yearly ritual of taking me to a Broadway play and dinner for my birthday. It was something special that he only did for me and again I took great pride in that. I would get dressed up, and it was the only time I felt beautiful from the inside out. One year he asked me what play I wanted to see. I told him, “Dream Girls, but it’s been sold out for months.” He asked my second choice, and told me to be ready on our special day. I still don’t know how he pulled it off at the age of 20 something, but he not only got tickets to Dream Girls, but we were in the first row. My sister and aunts are about tired of this story, because I still tell it like it was yesterday. Afterwards we went to a fancy restaurant, and he taught me how to eat like a lady and taught me how a lady should be treated. He was the first male in my life to truly make me feel like a princess…and when my true prince came, I was able to recognize him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we both became adults, our friendship grew into a less fairytale relationship. We became real friends and began to share our real ups and downs of life. My uncle is not a real angel, and like all of us, has made many mistakes as he navigated through his own life. No matter how many mistakes he has made, or how hard he is on himself because of those mistakes, one thing that will never change is the impact he had on my life, and for that I will be forever grateful to him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At a very difficult time in my life, God sent me a guardian angel to give me hope in times of great pain and insecurity. In our darkest times, God will send us angels in various forms. My uncle/brother helped to build my self esteem when it was at an all time low and at such a pivotal point in my development. I realize that as tough a period of time that was for me, it was his letters that gave me hope that everything would eventually be ok…and it was. We remain very close, though we don’t talk nearly as often as I wish. Life is busy for both of us…He has a family, and I have a full life with an awesome husband and kids. My husband also respects and loves Clean, because he knows the difference that he made in who I am today. That relationship reminds me that sometimes the smallest things we do for the children in our lives, could make a tremendous impact later in life. I try to remember that with my own kids and other children and young adults that I interact with. I point out their beauty, their awesome spirit, and remind them that they are Powerful Beyond Measure…What might have been deemed as a small gesture to others, has had an astonishing affect on me…by the way…at age 40, I still have that mirror.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please share a story of how a guardian angel looked over you when you needed it most. I am sure if you look real hard…all of you can think of at least one story where the grace of God helped you through…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6381864436087222555-7613775222781694098?l=womansworthiness.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womansworthiness.blogspot.com/feeds/7613775222781694098/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://womansworthiness.blogspot.com/2010/01/my-guardian-angel.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6381864436087222555/posts/default/7613775222781694098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6381864436087222555/posts/default/7613775222781694098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womansworthiness.blogspot.com/2010/01/my-guardian-angel.html' title='My Guardian Angel'/><author><name>Alicia Booker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15096324252848897597</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OwmywfFuIeY/SrE_qkPwXUI/AAAAAAAAABM/QtOVbkk5ibE/S220/Alicia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6381864436087222555.post-6309959053118233587</id><published>2010-01-22T21:01:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-25T08:33:31.304-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Phenomenal Woman</title><content type='html'>When I was in graduate school, I attended a mandatory retreat for Group Dynamics and underwent an intense weekend of therapy for myself. I was about 25 years old and this weekend was groundbreaking for me. My roommate during the weekend was in her fifties, and one night commented on my insights, and wondered how, at my age, I was able to have the wisdom and depth to view and contribute to our sessions in the way that I did. Part of it is that God gave me this uncanny way of seeing through people and situations at their core, and the other part of it is the gifts I received from my mother. She had a gift to see “good” in all people and situations and to make a difference at the same time. At times I received these gifts as blessings, at other times they have seemed more like curses, but somehow I have learned to accept and nurture them as part of me and who I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mother came into this world in the early 1940’s. She was born in Holland at the height of the Holocaust. At six weeks old, she and her entire family were sent to a concentration camp. During that time, her life was spared a number of times, and to this day she lives with a sense of guilt as to why God saved her life while so many others were taken. Thankfully she and her entire family were liberated by American Soldiers and came to the United States to live. She was very close to death when she arrived here, but again, her life was spared…I suspect her purpose here on earth had not yet been revealed…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mother came from a very conservative Jewish family. I am not sure at what age she realized that she was “different”, but I know she was pretty feisty from a very young age. She pushed the limits and questioned the boundaries that were very clear for a young Jewish girl. Even now in her sixties, she continues to push the limits every chance she gets. In the sixties, she was in her twenties, in college, and the ultimate optimistic flower child. She believed in equality for all and was deeply moved by the civil rights movement. She attended Rutgers University in Newark and lived in a Brownstone on James Street. My father, a gifted musician, but not a college student, frequently played with bands at the college parties. He met my mother and was instantly enthralled with not only her beauty, but with the amazing person that she was. She was not impressed, but he harassed her so much that she finally broke. They were married, and had two amazing daughters (if I may say so myself :-)) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The perfect fairy tale it was not. As gifted an artist that my father was, he was not as talented in the husband and father category. Like so many black men of that era, social constraints and lack of self love, led many to drugs and the streets. My family, like so many others, was not shielded from the effects of that time period. At this time, my mother was also estranged from her nuclear family, as they did not take well to her marrying outside the Jewish faith. I don’t want to go into the details of that time period, but I will say that they were tough, and through it all she still maintained her inspiring spirit and managed to instill her love of life and people in her children. She taught us that the color of our skin was so insignificant to the content of our character. We grew up in predominantly black neighborhoods, but were exposed to all types of cultures including the Jewish community. In our protected world of family and friends, color was never discussed or an issue, but the outside world continued to try and eat at her ideals. She tried to raise us as “people” color, but that only worked for a short period of time as society pressured us (her children) to make a choice…or rather the choice had already been made. In our home and in our world though, people were only judged by the person they presented. And this is how I always viewed the world. I was always somewhat of an enigma my whole life…always being perceived as “different”. I suspect this is how my mother has felt and still feels as she navigates through this life that still places so many constraints on people and their minds. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my tenth year of life, it seemed as though our world came tumbling down. My mother lost the closest people to her in life within four months of each other (her mother and brother). In addition to that, she had no other choice but to separate from my father after years of mental abuse, drug abuse, and now adultery. So in her late thirties, very much alone and lonely, she moved into the house she grew up in that was left to her by her mother. She began to raise her girls completely on her own. I am now the age she was then, and can’t imagine tapping into the strength she needed to keep her head above water. Reflecting on that time, it really was the grace of God that got all of us through that painful period. I, being the youngest, resented my mother for taking me from my father. Though I was aware of his weaknesses, I still loved my daddy unconditionally and I desperately wanted my life with him back. My sister on the other hand was angry at him and her and wanted nothing to do with either of them. My mom was overcome with grief and was little comfort to either of us. We all retreated into our own cocoons for survival. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again, much tragedy happened during that time, but when I think about how far we have all come, I realize her life was saved so she could touch so many with her spirit. I am in awe of her strength of character, her wisdom, and insight. She raised two strong, independent thinkers who care deeply for people and the world we live in, and she did it struggling financially and emotionally for much of her life. She did without so that she could save for our college education. She invested the little money she had instead of using it on everyday necessities which I am sure was tempting at times. She made sound financial choices through times of great financial challenges, and now not only does she live a comfortable life of retirement, but has invested in each of her grandchildren’s future college education.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mother’s story, like so many, was one filled with amazing highs, and extreme lows, but her strength, character, and tenacity has made such an impact on her girls and all the lives that have shared a piece of her world. My mother, one of my very best friends, often questions her impact in the world, and her purpose in this life. In many ways she is still searching for a place where she “fits”. She maintains the label “different”, and at times takes great pride in that, but also yearns for people to “get her”. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I look at my children, her grandchildren, I realize why her life was spared. Through her journey she was able to instill her “differentness” in her children. And though the world she grew up in was not ready for her, she remained on this earth so that her “specialness” could live through her children and now her grandchildren who live in a world that is more prepared for her “flower child ideals”. By no means do I live in a fairytale about where our world is, but it is eons away from the world my mother grew up in. My children don’t know what boundaries are. They genuinely love all people and embrace that they are from a mixed heritage. They share this mixed heritage with pride at school and beyond. They are confident in who they are and don’t accept any labels from anyone…Their spirit and strength is a direct reflection of the blood flowing through their veins. They affect people and the world deeply, so though she was limited in what she could do and at times still questions her purpose, I am excited to see her legacy live through her offspring. I thank God for sparing her life and blessing me with the phenomenal woman that I affectionately call “Ma”. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mother is a writer and has been writing her book for as long as I can remember. This piece does not do her story justice, but it is my way of thanking God that her life was spared and my way of thanking her for all the sacrifices she made so that my life would be as blessed as it is. I can’t wait to read her story from her eyes and I hope this piece inspires her to get the pen to paper so that she can tell her story as only she can!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you Ma!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6381864436087222555-6309959053118233587?l=womansworthiness.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womansworthiness.blogspot.com/feeds/6309959053118233587/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://womansworthiness.blogspot.com/2010/01/my-phenominal-woman.html#comment-form' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6381864436087222555/posts/default/6309959053118233587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6381864436087222555/posts/default/6309959053118233587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womansworthiness.blogspot.com/2010/01/my-phenominal-woman.html' title='My Phenomenal Woman'/><author><name>Alicia Booker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15096324252848897597</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OwmywfFuIeY/SrE_qkPwXUI/AAAAAAAAABM/QtOVbkk5ibE/S220/Alicia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6381864436087222555.post-2811482907490128774</id><published>2010-01-19T16:57:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-19T17:02:32.259-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sister's Weekend 2010</title><content type='html'>As I woke this morning and felt a bit of tenderness on my right side, I touched the lines of my friendship symbol and smiled…I began to reflect on what “Sister’s Weekend” really means to me and what I suspect it means to all of the sisters that have either come once, several times, or have attended every year since we began doing this. Initially the ritual started with me and my sister, and my two aunts (who are really more like sisters). It grew to include our in-laws, and then took a bit of a different turn when we all began to live in different states. My sister began hosting it each year during the MLK weekend once she moved to Florida. It then grew to not only include the core group, but each of us has invited our “special sista friends” to join this amazing weekend at various times over the years. It has now become a journey of life’s ups and downs that we share each year as we catch up on everyone’s lives. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For me, each year I am in awe of the beauty that is the journey of life. Each one of the members of our group is at a different place each year. It is so exciting for me to see where life has taken each of us and how we have evolved into the person’s we see on this special weekend. Some years are better than others depending where each of us are in our own lives.&amp;nbsp; As you can imagine, as wonderful as it is to see everyone, it can get quite intense at times. All of us have strong personalities and our own individual ways of doing and interpreting things. The word that sticks out to me most for this weekend is “tolerance” and the security of knowing that no matter what…we are here for each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During this past weekend, three of my “sista friends” attended. These friends of mine are from three different phases of my life. One friend I knew since middle school, the other college, and the last since before my first child was born (about 13 years). Each of these friendships are equally sacred to me and each of them know and have shared parts of me that the other hasn’t. That is what makes each of these women so unique. I’ve encountered times when our friendships were tested, and space to grow individually was necessary, but what I know without a doubt is that wherever life takes us, these bonds are forever. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sister’s best friend from high school is also one of the special ladies that attended this year. She has been like a big sister to me since I was 10 or 11 years old. She was the first person that arched my eyebrows. She was also someone that looked out for me.&amp;nbsp; She stuck up for me when I didn’t have a voice.&amp;nbsp; Seeing her this year gave me such joy. She is discovering herself again after years of losing who she was. She is not only finding the girl she used to be, but she is embracing the amazing woman that she has become. She is exploring new things, going on new adventures, and opening herself up to new possibilities. Simply, I am so proud of her and I am one of her biggest fans sitting on the sidelines cheering her on as she discovers what “it” is… &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The final two members of our group this year&amp;nbsp;were my aunt and my sister. The only two members that I can’t remember what life was like without, because they have always been there. At some point during the last ten-twenty years, my aunt and I became friends. As you can imagine, being the baby of my family (the older generation that is) it took a long time to be viewed or respected as an equal. Somewhere along the way, that changed and the friendship that has blossomed is one that I treasure deeply. My aunt has been on a personal journey of finding her own peace, and though she readily admits that she is a work in progress, I am so proud of where she has come and where she is headed. She has become still, and is allowing God to work with and through her. I admire her strength to just “be” and not let anything or anyone alter her current state of “being”…all I can say is “you go girl!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My relationship with my sister, the hostess with the mostess, is the hardest to describe, because there are no words that can describe the depth of our friendship and commitment to each other. If you were to ask me as a teen or even adolescent if I would ever consider my sister as my very best friend, I would have unequivocally said no. We had a turbulent childhood and a distant adolescence, but what was always constant was that we had each other’s back. Over the years we’ve had to cling to each other in times of need, and knew that no one would be better equipped to handle the fragile situation other than each other. It is through these ups and downs of our lives that this magical friendship evolved, and now I could not imagine that we were ever anything but the best of friends. Her journey has led her to this fascinating place of acceptance. Acceptance not only of and for herself, but for all that are in her circle. I watched her this weekend handle each guest and relationship with such care, wisdom, and grace…even though there were times when we all got on her nerves and each others nerves, she set the tone…and that tone was “tolerance”. Tolerance lets you know that no matter what your issue, quirk, or funk might be, we all have each other’s back…We are our sister’s keeper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So sister’s weekend for me is a time to exhale away from the constraints of our lives. It’s a time to get away from the stress of everyday life, and the burden of the difficult life issues that we might be facing. It is also a time to throw caution to the wind, and be a little spontaneous and wild…which we ALL did this weekend. Through the years we have been through serious illness, divorce, unemployment, cheating spouses, sorry spouses, awesome spouses, parenting issues, promotions, career changes, life changes, and so much more. Through all of that this weekend remains a highlight that we look forward to each year.&amp;nbsp; Sharing the journey with these women has been a beautiful addition to my own individual story…The women of this Sister’s Weekend, the women of the past Sister’s Weekend, and the&amp;nbsp;women of the future Sister’s Weekend are all part of this blossoming journey of healing, worth, love, and acceptance.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6381864436087222555-2811482907490128774?l=womansworthiness.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womansworthiness.blogspot.com/feeds/2811482907490128774/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://womansworthiness.blogspot.com/2010/01/sisters-weekend-2010.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6381864436087222555/posts/default/2811482907490128774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6381864436087222555/posts/default/2811482907490128774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womansworthiness.blogspot.com/2010/01/sisters-weekend-2010.html' title='Sister&apos;s Weekend 2010'/><author><name>Alicia Booker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15096324252848897597</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OwmywfFuIeY/SrE_qkPwXUI/AAAAAAAAABM/QtOVbkk5ibE/S220/Alicia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6381864436087222555.post-3948379512942242348</id><published>2010-01-13T22:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-13T22:10:32.505-05:00</updated><title type='text'>All the Single Ladies...</title><content type='html'>During the holiday break I had a discussion with my single sister (CEO), single best friend from college (PHD), and a happily married male pilot. The conversation was insightful, in that in the eyes of this very successful man, the weight of the world lays on the shoulders of women, more specifically black women. He went on to say that the reason our jails are filled with so many black men is because their mother, spouse, or partner enabled&amp;nbsp;unacceptable behavior. He felt that black boys/men were not held accountable, which has led to lives of crime and incarcaration. He also said that a man needs a woman to build him up and encourage him. He said, “At the end of the day it is his woman’s reaction to him that makes a difference.” He continued to discuss all the needs and requirements that a man needs to be happy and successful in life. I asked what about the needs of the woman. What’s in it for her? Needless to say, I could hear the crickets chirping. The conversation was interesting to say the least. When I returned to work, my boss posted a video on Facebook ( &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bJGMAhWpDF8"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bJGMAhWpDF8&lt;/a&gt; ) about successful unmarried black&amp;nbsp;women. He was shocked at the comments that he received about the video. He expressed to me that he thinks every woman wants a man to share their life with…I did not disagree with him, but I suspect that the increasingly high rate of single black women is due to the fact that women, successful women, are not willing to settle for “just having a man".&amp;nbsp; In this video, Steve Harvey said something very poignant. He said, “His generation of men never taught the ones coming behind them the principles of manhood, and that this is due to the lack of male presence in the home.” These two conversations with two different men led me to write this piece.&amp;nbsp; I am willing to bet that the reason that the percentage of single, successful, black women has risen to such high rates is because our sense of worth and what we expect and require from a relationship has also risen. We raised the bar!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you remember the movie, “Waiting to Exhale”? The character played by Whitney Houston had a conflicted relationship with her mom, who was pressuring her to be with a married man so she would not be alone. I think our generation of women has come so far from just “wanting to have a man”. A companion is what is desired…a best friend and lover. When those basic needs are met, her love, support, and commitment is his for the taking. Is that asking for too much? I think not! Women want a man who is comfortable in his own skin, confident and strong, and not intimidated by her success. Having great character, goals, and a career would also be nice. Again, not asking for all that much, but because, like Steve Harvey mentioned, a lot of our boys were never taught how to be men; they define manhood in dysfunctional ways (womanizing, non communication, controlling, etc.) On the other hand, many black girls were raised to be strong and to take care of themselves. They are educated, successful, strong, and are taking care of their own emotional and physical needs :-). Many of the single women in my life have great careers and awesome friends. Some of them have children and very supportive families. I think that they all would love to have a companion to share their lives, but at this point either men are intimidated by their love of self and success, or the men that are stepping up are not worthy of their time or friendship. They are learning to lead full, meaningful lives without a man…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A haunting question comes to mind…Does finding and nurturing your own “worth” leave you without male companionship? I think not. I believe there are men out there that value a woman’s worth. There are men that can see that light shining from within a beautiful woman who is confidant and secure in who they are.&amp;nbsp; These men will do what it takes to earn that love. They may not come in the package you have in your mind, but they are out there. I think for too long women fought to make things fit, and would try to overcompensate and disregard her own needs to make a relationship work. All relationships require compromise, but compromise does not mean sacrificing yourself for someone else’s happiness. I think many men don’t get this yet. The patriarchal society that we live in caters to men and their needs. I remember having a conversation with my own husband about one of his friends and the choices of women that this friend was making. My husband said some interesting things about the women, which angered me. I said, “wait a minute now…have you looked at your friend lately, and what he is bringing to the table” There was this feeling of supremacy that this friend should have better, but I told him that this friend needed to get his stuff together and that he was no prize at this time either. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Relationships are quite complex and there are no simple answers or formulas of what works and what doesn't work. My boss told me that I am happily married and my perspective might be different if I&amp;nbsp;were single. I don’t think so, because at a very early age I decided that I would rather be alone, then to settle. I thank God for sending me my prince, but had he not come when he did, I would have waited, even if that meant being alone. At least I would like to believe that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is just my interpretation of this topic. I would love to hear your take on it. This is not just about black women. It is about women in general and all of us living a life of worth and refusing to settle! Please share your thoughts…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6381864436087222555-3948379512942242348?l=womansworthiness.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womansworthiness.blogspot.com/feeds/3948379512942242348/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://womansworthiness.blogspot.com/2010/01/all-single-ladies.html#comment-form' title='22 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6381864436087222555/posts/default/3948379512942242348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6381864436087222555/posts/default/3948379512942242348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womansworthiness.blogspot.com/2010/01/all-single-ladies.html' title='All the Single Ladies...'/><author><name>Alicia Booker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15096324252848897597</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OwmywfFuIeY/SrE_qkPwXUI/AAAAAAAAABM/QtOVbkk5ibE/S220/Alicia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>22</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6381864436087222555.post-4728282989947144161</id><published>2010-01-04T23:43:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-26T09:43:19.203-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Prince, My Hero, My Love...</title><content type='html'>Recently, I've been stressing about being financially tight, but today I took a big breath and released.&amp;nbsp; I began to think about the journey, and I am truly too blessed to be stressed.&amp;nbsp; I began to reflect on the last sixteen years of my life and I was inspired to write the following piece about my prince, my hero, my love....and the &lt;strong&gt;new&lt;/strong&gt; journey we may have to face in 2010...I also Decided to submit this piece to &lt;a href="http://mybrownbaby.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://mybrownbaby.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt; for this months writing contest entitled, "Something New"...and guess what???&amp;nbsp; I won...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;My Prince, My Hero, My Love...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In late December,&amp;nbsp;we visited an Orthopedic who was actually able to give us some direction in helping my husband deal with the pain that he endures daily. This direction could mean a major surgery and a year of rehab, but could have a tremendous positive impact in the years to come. Being young, black, and uninsured sixteen years ago has led us to a major fork in the road. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each morning I watch him slowly make his way to the bathroom, as the clinks and clanks in his ankle start to warm up after resting from the night. I watch him take one step and one foot at a time down the stairs. My heart hurts thinking about the daily pain he lives with, even though he doesn’t complain or whimper. In fact he goes above and beyond not only at work, but at home, and in everything he does. Every now and then he retreats to what we call the “male box”, where he is quiet, watches sports, and doesn’t talk much. Although I know he doesn’t want to talk during these times, I do still try and check in just to assure myself that alone time is what he needs. During these times I wonder if Mr. Cherry knows how he changed my husband’s life all because an insignificant, insecure young brother in the group called a girl a “bitch”. I wonder if Mr. Cherry is alive, and if that night also changed his life. It definitely changed ours…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is something how one singular event can change the course of your life. Sixteen years ago my husband was shot in the ankle leaving a bachelor party. At the time our relationship was in its infancy. Little did we know that our life together would be solidified by one call. Prior to that fretful night, I was starting to have my doubts about this brother who was so intense and clear that friendship was not what he wanted. At the time, I had been hurt a number of times, and I just did not trust that he was the person he was claiming to be. He asked me to attend a wedding with him and we were to meet in Atlantic City. To make a long story short, he never showed up at our meeting place. The bachelor party turned into a brawl and shooting. He was shot in the ankle where his tibia and fibula bones were shattered. Upon going into the first of many surgeries, he overheard someone say, “He’ll never walk again.” With no insurance, and several surgeries, they patched him up as best they could, and he did and does walk…albeit in pain, but he is walking. The care he received at the time was the bare minimum and because of that, his ankle&amp;nbsp; and leg is deformed, which is causing back and hip pain.&amp;nbsp;In order to be able to sustain any replacement therapy in the future, the deformity must be fixed…amazing what having insurance can do…This is the fork I mentioned earlier…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was 24, unemployed, not able to walk, and recovering at his brother’s home in Absecon (a small town outside of Atlantic City). Learning to walk again would take at least a year. Looking from the outside in, he seemed to be in quite a hopeless situation, and at times hopeless is what he felt. However, those times were far and few between, because though tragic as it was, so many blessings were birthed during that year of recovery. When I finally found him after being stood up at our meeting place, I called the hospital and found his room. As soon as he heard my voice he said, “I was so worried about you”. Little did he know he had me at that point, but I didn’t tell him that because I still felt he had to work a little harder. He often jokes and says he had to get shot to earn my love. That is so not true, but it is after this shooting that our relationship grew to new levels. He took care of me from the hospital bed and made sure that I had a place to stay, and he has been taking care of me ever since. I drove two hours every Friday after work to see him at his brother’s house. We spent the first six months of our relationship in a 12’ x 12’ guest room. He endured several surgeries, several casts, and months of physical therapy, but he had me and an amazing family by his side the whole way. His relationship with his brother, 11 years his senior, wasn’t always the closest, but while recovering in his home, something magical began to take place. They began to get to know each other and a new kind of friendship began to develop. His brother had three children who were bright, curious, loving, and amazing to be around. A relationship and bond was formed between all of us that is tucked away in our hearts and one that we all carry in a safe place. Those kids became a piece of our world, and those times and memories have&amp;nbsp;helped to shape us as we parent our own three children.&amp;nbsp; The&amp;nbsp;sisterhood and brotherhood that was formed between&amp;nbsp;us is always present. Even though many miles separate us, the bond is strong, and may not have ever happened had he not been shot. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During this time, we talked about his dreams, and what he wanted to do with the rest of his life. Many times when events such as this happen, people get a new lease on life, but sometimes it fades as the injuries begin to heal. Not in his case…He told me that he wanted to make a difference in young black boys/men’s’ lives. He was a Finance/Real Estate major in college, but he wanted something different for himself and for his community. The young man who shot him was 17 or 18 years old, and he received 18 months for shooting a human being…a black human being. Because it was a black on black crime, Mr. Cherry was able to plea bargain. The court decided that the cost of bringing out of state witnesses back for trial was not an expense they wanted to incur. So Mr. Cherry received 18 months for disfiguring my husband’s leg for life. Once we were past the trial, my husband decided that he needed to forgive Mr. Cherry and that he needed to make a difference. Somehow he had to be an agent of change in young black lives. Once he could walk again, he got a job substitute teaching for the East Orange School System. Simultaneously, he began studying for the Teachers Exam and enrolled in Graduate School. Upon passing the teachers exam, he was hired as a permanent substitute teacher, and then gained employment as a 5th grade social studies teacher. During this time, he also spoke about starting a basketball team at his church. He figured the team would have about 10 players and they would play other community teams. He got clearance from the pastor and held tryouts one Saturday morning. Over 90 kids showed up for the tryouts, and he looked at me and told me he could not turn any of them away. Some kids came with their mothers and grandmothers who looked to him with hope in their eyes. Needless to say, instead of a team, he now had a league. Instead of just him he had his friends and family from the same community help out as coaches, score keepers, and referees. It was truly amazing and a life changing&amp;nbsp;opportunity for all of us. It was something bigger than ourselves and it impacted all&amp;nbsp;that were involved in this project. There were times when I looked to him frustrated, and flabbergasted&amp;nbsp;at how we were to pull it all off, but he never wavered and always came through. He had end of season banquets and even took the entire league to the Basketball Hall of Fame. He never did it alone, but it was his vision and leadership that made Harambee Basketball League such a success.&amp;nbsp; During this time, we got married, bought our first home, had our first baby and his career was accelerating faster than either of us could have imagined. Upon graduating with his Master of Arts in Administration, he was soon hired as an Assistant Principal, and then the youngest Principal in the history of the East Orange School District. All of the dreams and aspirations that we discussed in that little room in Absecon, were all coming to fruition, and he was truly making a difference. At the height of his career, tragedy struck again, and his mother, his biggest fan (besides me of course), was taken from us unexpectedly. Again, one tragic event would change the course of our life…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We didn’t realize how much our life changed at the absence of our matriarch. All the accolades and accomplishments just weren’t the same without her here to share them. The stress and bureaucracy of being an administrator in an urban setting was beginning to take its toll. Each day was becoming harder than the last, and I could feel things changing, but I really did not know how to help him or us. We decided that a fresh start would be best especially since the real estate market was at its height. He always planned to go back to Atlanta, and now seemed like the right time to do it. He got a job as a principal in another urban setting, we bought a house, and we moved south. All was fine, but the joy that once came from being an administrator was replaced with an overwhelming doom. I watched as he got up in pain both physically and mentally, and began to realize he wasn’t happy doing what he was doing. In fact, he was miserable. At the time I was a stay home mom and he felt that he had no other choice but to do what he had to do to support his family. Again, God had a different plan. He was put in a situation where he had no choice but to find a different line of work. And again, scared of what the future would bring, we were covered. Kevin gained employment at his Alma Mata, Morehouse College, and became a college administrator. We took a substantial pay cut, but I was also blessed with employment. He continues to do what he set out to do and that is helping to mold our black boys into young black men. He continues to make a difference in the community, in our home, and in the lives of all who know him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are days I am sure, that he must feel, “why me”. Why can’t I run and play basketball like I used to? Why am I in pain every day of my life? Why do I have to make the decision to have or not to have corrective surgery which will take a year from my life? Why did Mr. Cherry have so little respect for human life? But then again, what would our story be had it not happened. Do the blessings outweigh the downfalls? Could we have had the same outcome without the tragedy? We will never know…What we do know is that everything happens for a reason…the reasons are not always clear, but the outcome always brings clarity. I wish I could take the pain away.&amp;nbsp; I certainly would if I could…I only pray that the joy and the blessings of the journey will give him the strength needed to get through this next hurdle.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6381864436087222555-4728282989947144161?l=womansworthiness.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womansworthiness.blogspot.com/feeds/4728282989947144161/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://womansworthiness.blogspot.com/2010/01/my-prince-my-hero-my-love.html#comment-form' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6381864436087222555/posts/default/4728282989947144161'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6381864436087222555/posts/default/4728282989947144161'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womansworthiness.blogspot.com/2010/01/my-prince-my-hero-my-love.html' title='My Prince, My Hero, My Love...'/><author><name>Alicia Booker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15096324252848897597</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OwmywfFuIeY/SrE_qkPwXUI/AAAAAAAAABM/QtOVbkk5ibE/S220/Alicia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6381864436087222555.post-1862903709665299468</id><published>2009-12-28T11:13:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-25T15:11:21.568-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Looking Ahead to a New Decade...</title><content type='html'>As another year and decade closes, many of us will reflect on what worked for us and what didn’t. We will make declarations in January of a new start whether it is our spiritual growth, our relationships, our health, our career, or our families. I don’t know that I believe in resolutions, but I love the energy that a new year brings. Every New Year’s Day gives us the mental opportunity to start again and be better at what we do and who we are. We allow ourselves to hope and dream…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were days in 2009 where I literally cried myself to sleep and days where anxiety kept me from eating or sleeping. There were days when I felt absolutely lost. The song this year that got me through those dark&amp;nbsp;moments was Let Go, Let God. And this is what I did…I realized again, that some things are really out of my control. The only thing I have control over is the choices I make. I learned how to make better choices for myself, and boy this was and continues to be very difficult for me. The more difficult it is, the more I learn about myself, which has been an amazing awakening. So as challenging as 2009 was, I have to say it was a remarkable year of growth for me. As the year ends I can honestly say, that I like where I am and more importantly who I am, and where I am headed. I gained clarity and what a gift that has been. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My word for 2010 is commitment…to God, to family, to work, to writing, to fitness/health, and to finance...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have never felt more grounded in God’s love, but in 2009, my husband and I stopped going to church. We began to have church in our home. The experience has been uplifting to us, but even more astonishing was that our children loved it so much that they don’t want to go back to church. What both my husband and I learned was that our lessons became more meaningful because our kids held us accountable to God’s word on a daily basis. It was truly transforming. I am not sure where we are headed, but I would ultimately like to find a church home to be a part of and have our children grow in. Until then, I would like to get back on track and have our Booker Sunday services on a regular basis. We have been on hiatus, and it is time for us to commit to our spiritual nourishment again...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am married to my best friend and lover which is one of my greatest blessings. In 2010, I am committed to finding time to nurture our friendship and love. We both get so worn down by the daily grind that the first thing that gets put to the side is us. I am going to do something daily to show my love and appreciation for my husband. This could mean a longer embrace, a sweeter kiss, or even a small love text during the day. It only takes a few minutes, but could mean the difference in his day. He is my gift from God and I want him to always know it…My supreme miracle is that I was chosen to be&amp;nbsp;the mother to&amp;nbsp;three incredible little lives.&amp;nbsp;We have the great responsibility of raising them to be good and caring human beings, and I hold this closest to my heart. I want to be the best mother I can be which means being a better listener, making time when I am beat down tired, and instilling confidence that they are loved unconditionally. I am&amp;nbsp;devoted to continuing to make my marriage and family the top priority in my life…If all is good at home, everything else will fall into place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Armed with the clarity of 2009, I am looking ahead to limitless opportunities in 2010. I am invested both financially and emotionally to the company that I work for. I believe in the company, and I am&amp;nbsp;dedicated to doing my part in taking it to the next level not only for myself, but for all of my friends and family that invested in the company because of my recommendation. The state of the world’s economy has thrown some barriers our way in 2009, but already 2010 looks to be a ground breaking year for all of us and with commitment and hard work the possibilities are endless…Success is the only option!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Writing is my passion…it became crystal clear for me in 2009 and in 2010 I am making the choice to nurture this intense desire to put words on paper and to have my words make an impact in some way, shape, or form. I plan to be steadfast and more disciplined in my writing. Quite simply I plan to write, write, and write some more, and I pray that there will be people out there that will want to read what I write. I am encouraged to have 23 followers of this blog, and I thank each and every one of you for your support, and the sharing of your own words and journeys. Your paths have enriched my life and my writing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fitness has been an emotional lifesaver for me in 2009. Since April, I have been committed to running and strength training, and it has added such&amp;nbsp;lucidity and well being to my life. It is what I do solely for myself…It gives me the mental and physical balance needed to do all of the other things that are required of me in my family, career, and overall life. In 2010, I embrace continued exercise, but I am going to make better choices in diet. I plan to drink more water, and eat more fruits and veggies. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In 2009, my husband and I committed to a life free of credit cards. We decided to tear down debt and live within our means…not on credit. Great decision, tough to implement, but we did it. Our debt is going down and we did not use credit for anything this year. I am committed to keeping us on track to be debt free in 5 years…we are well on our way…including paying cash for all Christmas presents in 2009. I am proud of us both for making this commitment and sticking to it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am excited for the next decade and the possibilities that are ahead. What’s ahead for you in 2010? I would love to hear what 2009 was like for you, and what you are looking forward to in the next year.&amp;nbsp; I challenge you to write it down...it makes you accountable….please share!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6381864436087222555-1862903709665299468?l=womansworthiness.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womansworthiness.blogspot.com/feeds/1862903709665299468/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://womansworthiness.blogspot.com/2009/12/looking-ahead-to-new-decade.html#comment-form' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6381864436087222555/posts/default/1862903709665299468'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6381864436087222555/posts/default/1862903709665299468'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womansworthiness.blogspot.com/2009/12/looking-ahead-to-new-decade.html' title='Looking Ahead to a New Decade...'/><author><name>Alicia Booker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15096324252848897597</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OwmywfFuIeY/SrE_qkPwXUI/AAAAAAAAABM/QtOVbkk5ibE/S220/Alicia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6381864436087222555.post-6550908472632634634</id><published>2009-11-17T14:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-18T09:08:21.711-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Writer's Worth...</title><content type='html'>As most of you know...I turned 40 six months ago, and my gosh, time is flying. The road to 40 was not easy. It seems the closer I got to the big day, the more unsettled my spirit became. The reality that life was passing me by, empowered me to make some much needed changes in my relationships, my authenticity, and my life in totality. I decided to focus on being the best me I could be. This was big, because for much of my life, I focussed on what would be best for others, and how I could help to make their lives better...even at my own emotional expense. I decided that a better me would be beneficial to everyone in my life. I had no idea where this would lead me, but as I made some pivotal changes, a new world and life has opened up for me. The relationships that sustained the changes, are stronger, others are healing, but through it all I gained a greater confidence&amp;nbsp;of who I am, and what I have to offer this world...more specifically my world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The saying "Youth is wasted on the Young" has profound meaning to me at this juncture in my life. If I had an ounce of the wisdom, the confidence, or the ambition that I have now when I was in high school, college, or even my early 20's, my God, I wonder where life would have taken me. At forty, I look at life, people, and relationships for what they are...imperfect just like me. Prior to turning forty I expected perfection from myself, from others,&amp;nbsp;but I've now realized that "perfection" does not exist...It is the imperfection in all of us that makes us who we are. It is what connects us to each other's journey. I am learning to stop looking to others for validation, but to have faith in myslef and my talents, which was a recent lightbulb moment for me. So many times I've looked to others to tell me that I am "good", "talented", or "gifted", but it is not until I truly believe this for myself, that I will be able to shatter the walls that I have created to prevent me from wanting and achieving more than I ever dreamed. Recently, I wrote a piece about someone very close to my heart and shared it with a few people. I know it is a good piece, but I wanted other's to tell me it was good, in order for me to gain the confidence to seek publishing. My sister, the subject of the piece, said to me, "you are an amazing writer, why do you continue to seek validation from others". My response was, "I know, I just wanted some constructive feedback", but if I am truly honest with myself...she&amp;nbsp;was absolutely right. I wanted someone else to think it was worthy. Just like I often looked to others to make me feel worthy. It is at this point that I decided that I need to look within for that validation. I am definitely a novice in the writing world, but I need to first believe that I have something special to share, before anyone elso will be able to recognize my greatness...I am on my way...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My passion is to write and touch people with my words. To let the world know that it is ok to feel insecure at times, ugly, unworthy, and even lost, but that facing our fears and going through the journey is part of getting to our destination. I want to share my peaks and valleys, and I want to hear about others. I want to be a force that helps us all explore some of the obstacles that have stifled us for years. In our youth, we were not supposed to have the insight that we have in our 40+ years...It is the lessons we've learned that are to carry us to new levels of communication, love, success, and fullfillment. These are the lessons I want to share through my writing. In 2010 I am excited and expecting great things to happen as I become a writing force that fuels my soul and touches others. If you are reading this, I am humbled and hope you join me on this rollercoaster ride...and ask yourself...what is my passion? What is holding me back from pursuing and discovering my dreams? I bet the biggest obstacle standing in your way is "you". Join me as I fight against myself to discover what my purpose is, and share with me the steps you are taking to fulfill your deepest desires...I am looking forward to sharing and growing together...Please follow me via this blog to stay tuned on whats to come for me and share your journey in the process...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6381864436087222555-6550908472632634634?l=womansworthiness.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womansworthiness.blogspot.com/feeds/6550908472632634634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://womansworthiness.blogspot.com/2009/11/writers-worth.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6381864436087222555/posts/default/6550908472632634634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6381864436087222555/posts/default/6550908472632634634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womansworthiness.blogspot.com/2009/11/writers-worth.html' title='A Writer&apos;s Worth...'/><author><name>Alicia Booker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15096324252848897597</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OwmywfFuIeY/SrE_qkPwXUI/AAAAAAAAABM/QtOVbkk5ibE/S220/Alicia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6381864436087222555.post-7344025455766056619</id><published>2009-11-17T14:10:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-17T14:10:45.915-05:00</updated><title type='text'>More Than Just a Number...</title><content type='html'>When I was 29, I wrote a piece about what turning 30 means to me. It seems as though I just blinked, and here I am at age 39 reflecting upon what turning 40 means to me. At age 29, I felt like I had come full circle. I married my prince, had my first child, purchased my first home, and my career was moving along nicely. My life was blessed more than I ever dreamed it could be. In my thirties, more blessings came my way...the birth of two more children, a move to a new city, the purchase of a second home, and a major career shift...my blessings have been abundant, and I am grateful everyday for each and every one of them...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As wonderful as life has been…my thirties taught me that there is no such thing as a fairytale…There are battles and struggles we all have to go through. I learned that loss and change are a part of life...During my thirties, we experienced illness and death and all of the scars they leave behind. We lost a parent, a matriarch that was in many ways the glue of my husband’s family. We had no idea that the journey of healing from such a loss would be just that...a journey. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In addition to that loss, so many of our loved ones experienced illness, and in some cases death, and again we were left to figure out "why", and how to fill the spaces that were left empty from their passing. The experience of loss has taught me to value every day as a gift, to not live life in fear of whats to come...but to enjoy the NOW as much as you possibly can. This is a work in progress I must admit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over the last 10 years my husband and I have survived many of life's ups and downs, and have somehow managed to grow stonger through it all. Actually it is not “somehow”, it is our commitment to keeping “God” at the center of our life and relationship that has gotten us through the many valleys of our 30’s…A supportive network of family and friends also helped. As we both approach our 40's we remain best friends. However, we are both unfolding into a different level of understanding of ourselves and all of the pieces that surround us. We see so many things through different lenses than we did just ten years ago…even two years ago…It is an awesome experience to grow together and support each other through the transition into another decade of our life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Turning 40 is filling me with this overwhelming desire to figure out God’s purpose for my life. I have all that I ever wanted…so I thought...I look and feel good, I have an amazing husband, phenomenal kids, a job I love, true and loyal friendships, and an extended family that loves and supports me in all that I do…but for the last year or so, I have been in such a state of discontentment…why? I keep asking myself the same question…The only thing that makes sense to me is that there must be a larger purpose for my life. God is stirring in me like never before, and has made me restless in all that I do and think. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently, I decided to take some time to work on ‘me'. I am working on forgiving myself for my inadequacies, and learning to accept myself as I am with no apologies. This is probrably one of the toughest challenges I have faced in a long time. I am learning to value each day as if its the last. Turning forty has made me realize that I don’t have as much time to figure "it" all out, so I am going to stop trying, and maybe "it" is not for me to figure out in the first place. I am learning to live my life without a plan. Anyone who knows me, also knows I always have a plan. I don't have a plan right now, and I am ok with that. ok...I have a few mini plans, but not a master plan. As May 26 quickly approaches, I’ve decided to take life one day at a time...My greatest desire for my 40's is to experience joy and peace from the inside out. It is in this place that I am confident that God’s plan for my life will be revealed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will keep you posted…Stay tuned…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6381864436087222555-7344025455766056619?l=womansworthiness.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womansworthiness.blogspot.com/feeds/7344025455766056619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://womansworthiness.blogspot.com/2009/11/more-than-just-number.html#comment-form' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6381864436087222555/posts/default/7344025455766056619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6381864436087222555/posts/default/7344025455766056619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womansworthiness.blogspot.com/2009/11/more-than-just-number.html' title='More Than Just a Number...'/><author><name>Alicia Booker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15096324252848897597</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OwmywfFuIeY/SrE_qkPwXUI/AAAAAAAAABM/QtOVbkk5ibE/S220/Alicia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6381864436087222555.post-3459889154083888066</id><published>2009-09-16T15:20:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-16T20:09:03.882-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Woman's Worth...</title><content type='html'>At what age or point in our journey do we realize that we are worthy of ones love, friendship, trust, and respect.  Or a better question might be at what age do we lose it?  At what point in our journey do we say it’s not that important to “have it all”, and I will just settle for what ever is given to me?  Why do some of us refuse to settle, and others feel like there is no other choice but to settle?  Why do some of us look outside of ourselves for love, and never learn to completely love ourselves from within?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was completing my course work for my graduate studies, my final requirement was an internship.  I chose a battered women’s shelter to complete my studies.  During my time there, I performed intake, worked the phone hotline, and counseled women individually and in groups. What I found was that whether a woman comes from extreme poverty, or great wealth…is educated or uneducated…are stay-home moms or working moms…there is a common thread that binds us all and that is a feeling of unworthiness…almost an acceptance that this is “just the way it is”.   This way of thinking leaves ALL women vulnerable to all types of mental and physical abuse…The mental abuse in most cases leave more scars than the physical.  The abuse for many of us started at a very young age when we learned that hurt and disappointment were synonymous with ‘love’.  Over the years, I’ve talked to quite a few women from all walks of life (not necessarily in abusive relationships), and again, I found a common thread that connects us all on varying levels at varying times of our lives…unworthiness…  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was inspired to write on this topic because I now officially have a pre-teen daugher who is confident, outgoing, and has a high bar of what is acceptable and what is not.  My husband and I are committed to nurturing her spirit and making sure that settling for less is not an option…not from her parents, her friends, her family, or eventually boys.  I have to ask this question: “didn’t we all have that spirit at one time or another?  What is it that happened along the way to some of us which caused us to lower the bar.  This is what I am trying to figure out, so that I prevent this from happening to my children and I am writing this so that you can look within your own journey and evaluate your worth and together we can stop the cycle…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many times the way we view ourselves and our relationship with others comes from our own upbringing and our personal relationships with our parents.  I personally came from a very dysfunctional family dynamic.  My father continues to battle with substance abuse and has his entire life, which prevented him from providing any kind of an example of what a good man, good husband, or most importantly what a good father should be.  For most of my life I looked to others to make me feel special.  And many times this left me empty and disappointed.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For most of my life I yearned to be more important to my father than the streets, and he was never able to put me or my siblings before his habits.  This was the first major heart break of my life which as you can imagine went on for decades…but I have siblings who were also greatly effected, and we have all processed the absence of a true father figure in very different ways.  One of my sisters wanted love and the fairytale life so desperately; that she was willing to settle for the outward appearance of what she thought was the “perfect” life.  Instead it turned out to be a similar relationship as our father and mother.  In other words, she married a mirror image of my father without even realizing it…My brother who is embarking on marriage, is similar to me in that he prays daily to be the opposite of the example he had.  This is dangerous also, because when you try so hard not to be something; that very “something” can sneak up on you without warning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decided that I never wanted to feel the heartbreak that my relationship with my father caused.  This was not healthy in that at times I had unrealistic expectations for some of the most important people in my life.  In fact, I almost didn’t see the “real thing” when it did come.  My sister fell for her first love and stayed with him at a high cost, where I fell hard for my first love, but wasn’t willing to lose myself to gain his love.  Why did we have so very different ways of processing love, and we came from the same family dynamic?  Why do so many women sacrifice who they are to be with that man who completes them?  I don’t know the answers to these questions, but I see it repeatedly.  I see it in the woman who puts all her dreams and aspirations aside to follow her true love…I see it with the woman who has been cheated on repeatedly, but somehow blames herself for not being enough for her husband…I see it in the woman who is being beaten by her husband, but blames herself for aggravating him after a hard day…I see it in women who don’t question blatant lies, because they are afraid to be labeled a nag…I see it in women who work fulltime, do all the housework, take care of all the kids needs, while their husbands are hanging with their boys, or watching TV, but never says a word…I see it in the woman that has been deceived from the beginning, but can’t give up on the hope that one day he will be different…I see it in the woman who is not really happy or satisfied, but with a man who is a nice guy, so shouldn’t she just be happy that she has someone??? I see it in the woman who is married to a man who is not interested in women, but blames herself for not being attractive enough for him…There are many more scenarios of women who settle for so much less than what they are worthy of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was recently moved by the Oprah interview with Whitney Houston, because my heart hurt for Whitney and the path she traveled…it reminded me of the journey that so many of the women in my life (including myself) have or are going through now.  Must we go through so much pain and heartache to come “through” the journey?  Are there things we can do to make the journey a little less painful? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We all have different thresholds of what we will accept and not accept along our pathways of relationships.  Some of us hold the bar higher than others…The key is to have a bar.  All relationships require compromise and understanding, but it is when compromise and understanding turn into enabling and dysfunction that there is a problem.  As women we need to find our spiritual peace, and replace some of those old voices from our past with new voices which say, I am good, I am loving, I am special, I am a gift, I am worth fighting for, I want to be happy, I want to feel joy, and most importantly…I am worthy of all of this and more…So many people in our lives don’t do what it takes, because we simply do not ask or require anything different from them.    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I challenge everyone reading this blog…male and female…to evaluate your own level of worthiness in all of your relationships.  If you have children, boys and girls, start telling them each day how they were uniquely crafted by God, and how beautiful, smart, strong, amazing, gifted, unique, special, and worthy they are.  Men show your girls how to be treated with respect and honor.  Women teach your boys how to communicate and display love, respect, and affection. Teach them how to love themselves and everything about them. Teach this so that they will not settle for anything less than that same love they give to themselves.    It is up to us to acknowledge our past and what it has done to us, so that we can help our children prosper, receive and give love, and to know that they are worthy of having it all…and so are we!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would love to hear your comments and thoughts…Please post…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6381864436087222555-3459889154083888066?l=womansworthiness.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://womansworthiness.blogspot.com/feeds/3459889154083888066/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://womansworthiness.blogspot.com/2009/09/womans-worth.html#comment-form' title='18 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6381864436087222555/posts/default/3459889154083888066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6381864436087222555/posts/default/3459889154083888066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://womansworthiness.blogspot.com/2009/09/womans-worth.html' title='A Woman&apos;s Worth...'/><author><name>Alicia Booker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15096324252848897597</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='17' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OwmywfFuIeY/SrE_qkPwXUI/AAAAAAAAABM/QtOVbkk5ibE/S220/Alicia.jpg'/></author><thr:total>18</thr:total></entry></feed>
