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What In The 2023!
Hello again!
I know it’s been some time since you heard from me. I wished you and me a “Happy More Year” the last time that I wrote. Remember, I declared that I wanted more joy, peace, memories and all the good things in 2023?
Funny thing is that I felt like I was opening the universe’s Pandora Box when I posted about welcoming my “More Year”. I remember telling myself that, “I hope that nothing happens to change my “yes, more” into a “no, more…please.” And as time passed, it was the latter. “No more….please!” All that I could say was, “what in the 2023!”
I was on top of life in the beginning of 2023. I was adjusting well to my new, executive-level job; everybody was healthy; and life was good.” Until it wasn’t.
It all changed within a millisecond of an eye-blink when I almost became a widow. Yes, you read that correctly. I almost lost my husband.
My super active husband experienced a seemingly non-serious back injury at the gym that evolved into an excruciating disc injury and eventually a near-fatal, double-pulmonary embolism. What in the 2023! I looked up and one day my life didn’t feel or look like my own.
I went from being a caring wife to caregiver. Hubby was hospitalized, my mother-in-law moved into our house to help. Our living room transformed into a make-shift hospital room with assistive medical equipment and my bed-ridden husband. I wore my executive, got it together mask during the day as I barely kept it together at night. What in the 2023!
One night, Kevin’s Mom slept downstairs on the sofa. He was sleeping in a lift chair that we rented because he could barely walk. I thought that I was dreaming when I heard her calling my name at 4:00 a.m. She had called 9-1-1 because Kevin’s heart was racing and he almost passed out.
It was pouring rain as Kevin was taken to the hospital by ambulance. I remember standing there in the rain and feeling comforted that the rain drops hid my tears.
We waited for about 3 hours in a triage room until he was seen by a doctor. Thank God that he was a patient and thorough doctor who wasn’t satisfied that Kevin’s pain was under control.
Photo by Larry George on Unsplash.com
Kevin’s heart was racing so fast that the monitors beeped constantly. It didn’t seem to cause any immediate concern with the medical team. Everyone thought that his fast heart rate was caused by his pain level. Kevin winced in pain after taking deep breaths. We thought that it was a strained muscle. Imagine our shock when the doctor diagnosed him with blood clots in both lungs!
We’ll never forget what he told us, “I’m glad to be having this conversation with you because it could have gone the other way.” I held my tears back as I thought about how my husband could have died at home or in front of me. What in the 2023!
People are generally supportive during the wake of a fresh crisis, but then they return to their normal patterns of life after time passes. People stop asking how you or your loved one are doing and expect that you’ve returned to your “normal”. Life keeps moving – even if we don’t.
Now I know that there are people who have it far worse than me. I consider myself blessed that this situation wasn’t more serious or permanent than it was. However, in that moment, it felt like life had served me an injustice. Our 5th wedding anniversary was around the corner. Kevin’s new job was going well. And I finally reached a goal that took my whole, 25+ year career to attain and it felt as if I was walking and working in someone else’s life that I wouldn’t chose for an enemy let alone myself. What in the 2023!
And to add insult to my injured spirit, my mom experienced a medical complication that required immediate hospitalization. I traveled between work, 2 hospitals and daydreams of what my life used to look like. Life was “life-ing” …and I needed it to stop. I kept myself going by fantasizing about my former life from 3 months before, but it seemed it was a lifetime away.
I operated in “robot-mode” as my girlfriends and I describe it. You do what you gotta do to survive in that moment. You shut off feelings, emotions, and a part of yourself until you can get back to yourself. Unfortunately, I’ve been in this place before so I didn’t need any instructions. But it saddened me that it was so easy to return.
Photo by Jennifer Marquez on Unsplash.com
I feel like most of my sistas can relate. We walk, work and exist in our active hurts so much that it becomes our normal. We self-amputate our feelings to cut off the thing that hurts us the most as a survival mechanism. And then one day, the pain stops and so does our joy, fulfillment, and the part of ourselves that we cherish the most. And sometimes it doesn’t return.
One day, I was at work and my cell phone rang, the insurance company abruptly decided that it was time for Kevin to be discharged whether he was ready or not. They didn’t care about his condition – it was about the growing cost for his medical care.
I was faced with making a decision within 24 hours – either put my Uber independent, Alpha-Male, proud husband in a nursing home or take my now bed-ridden, husband that was in excruciating pain home. What in the 2023!
My brain couldn’t process how we went from waking up at the crack of dawn, 3 times per week to work out together for 1-1.5 hours to seeing him in a lift-chair, using a walker, taking a handful of pills 3 times per day and existing in tear-provoking pain.
I grew to dread coming downstairs in the morning because I would find him sobbing in pain. He was only discharged with an order to take over-the-counter Tylenol for disc and nerve pain. What in the 2023!
Photo by Lee Juneseong on Unsplash.com
Thinking back to that day at work, I remember feeling 100% helpless – which is an unnatural feeling for an Uber independent, “I can take care of myself”, black woman in her 50’s. I went to talk to my boss of 3 months’ office to tell him that I would be late to our team dinner (because I’m still Chief of Staff and needed to show up well….everyday).
He knew that something was wrong as soon as he looked at me because he asked, “is it Kevin?” I just broke down and cried the newly liberated tears that I had been fighting back since this ordeal began 3 months before.
I always joke and tell people that I love crying. I really do because it’s a great release of bottled up emotions. And in that moment, I had 3 months worth. The tears didn’t change the situation or make it better, but the release felt amazing. It was worth it to break the “Black Girl Creed” that we don’t cry at work. Ever.
We are now 5 months after this life-changing experience began. And I’m writing this post from a lovely resort in Turks & Caicos on a vacation that we planned from our “old” normal in 2022. The past 2 months seem like it just a bad dream that our minds created during a long night of sleep.
Looking back, I can now see the blessings from the lessons in these moments. Sometimes we don’t realize how strong we are until challenge arrives. And trust me, they will come. Albeit they are uninvited and disruptive, they help us to build new muscles of faith, endurance, patience and resilience that we didn’t have before.
Celebrating my “50 plus two” Queen Day in Turks & Caicos – June 9, 2023
One of my girlfriends always reminds me that her pastor said, “every season has an expiration date.” I suppose that’s why spring is my favorite season. The end of the cold season is right next to the season of renewal and warmth. We just have to wait for it. I always tell people that it’s not the wait itself, but how we wait.
We can bitterly wait in frustration until the season passes or we give up. Or we can wait with grace by looking for the tiniest sprout on the branch of hope that we’re holding onto to remind us that better days can and will bloom again. I choose to do the latter.
“It’s not the wait, but how we wait.”
Kim DixonKevin is nearly back to his normal self, except that he’s now on a collection of medicine that keeps the unprovoked, life-threatening blood clots away. But I see more emotional changes in him and witness the irritation that he feels when he tires easily or gets winded. Frustration pulls at him when Alexa reminds him to take his evening dose of the “keep the deadly blood clots away” medicine. I see his hesitation and experience my over-caution when it’s time to lift something heavy. I also sense his longing to return to the gym when I wake up at the crack of dawn to work out by myself.
Mom is back to her, “faith-warring, God got me, self”! She carries more concern about my well-being because she knows that I carry the loads of concern for her and Kevin.
And I also changed, for the better….and stronger. I know that no matter what happens, I have a knowing that I be alright. I flex new muscles of faith and resilience that give me the strength to fight and win.
Photo by Rick Brown – Unsplashed.com
No matter the storm – whether it’s manmade or an Act of God, I will be alright.
New job stressors, I will be alright.
When life is uncontrollably life-ing, I will be alright.
And that’s the true power that turns my “what in the 2023” into “that was my 2023” because I am looking forward to the second half of this year. And I am alright.
Has 2023 been “a year” for you? Do you find yourself saying, “what in the 2023!”
Does life keep “life-ing”? How has it changed you for the better?
What superpower did it bring out of you?
Please tell me about it below! Remember, you’re going to be alright!
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The Year of More!
This is the first day of 2023. The new year has always been a time of reflection and declaration for me. I believe in setting my intentions and vision for the incoming year. As I reflect over the last year, 2022 was a good year for me. Overall, there were more high points than low ones. My vision for the “Year of Me” came to fruition in a job change; launching my blog; maintaining my mental, spiritual and physical health; and living in my authentic self. I even delivered a motivational keynote address to “Women In Transition”, like me! As we welcome 2023 with its full potential of greatness, my vision for this year is “more.” I am making the declaration that 2023 is going to be the Year of More!
My 2022 Vision Board More…
“More” has been brewing in my spirit throughout this most recent holiday season. My husband kept asking me what I wanted for Christmas. And to be honest, I couldn’t think of anything. It’s not that I have everything. Certainly, I could have thought of an expensive gift that sparkles. However, my heart’s desires can’t be purchased online or in a store. I want more of the greatness of 2022. And I’m not talking about the material stuff. I would like more joy, peace, professional fulfillment, fun, and great experiences. I had life-filling moments that I will forever cherish.
Hiking in Hawaii – April 2022 True enough, it sucked to miss a whole month of my life recovering from COVID. However, my heart smiles when I think about the love that my husband showed when he took care of me. And the joy of celebrating his 50th birthday at a luau in Hawaii. I smile as I think about the kicks and giggles when I celebrated my Queen Day with my girlfriends. And I’m filled with awe as my mind travels back to hearing Michelle Obama speak about her new book in Atlanta. These are the “mores” that chase away storm clouds when they appear in the sky of my life.
A great New Year’s Eve
I enjoyed an awesome New Year’s Eve conversation with my amazing, bonus daughter, Tatihana last night. She is in a place of growth, self-awareness, and is activating her vision by living in her power and operating from her more! My pride teemed for her as we spoke because her Dad and I have longed and prayed for her “more” to come. And selfishlessly, she became a new more for me because I look forward to “more” mother-daughter times with her. More conversations when we are encouraging, teaching, inspiring and loving each other. These moments are especially special to me because it wasn’t in God’s plan for me to have biological children. And I believe that this is His answer to my prayers for my legacy.
Sharing our mores…
The highlight of our conversation came when I asked her about what she was looking forward to this new year. She spoke of her business ventures, travel and expressions of her creativity. Then I shared my vision of “more” for 2023. We ended are call with our usual, “I’ll talk to you soon and love you’s.” Then I stopped and made the declaration of “more” for her. I would like for her to experience more creativity, stability, success, inner peace, financial freedom, discernment and happiness – all the mores that parents want for their kids. And I’m happy to see that her more is growing and becoming more tangible with each passing day. And will become even greater in this new year.
Photo by Christy Jacob on Unsplash What is your more? I challenge you to fill in the blank in this sentence for 2023. I want more ___________in 2023. Think abundance and use commas or create new sentences. Drop your mores in the comments below. I want to stand in agreement with you and joyfully manifest our mores in 2023! These are the mores that chase away storm clouds; breathe life into unmanifested dreams; and give our hopes the wings that they need to soar.
Join me and declare that 2023 is the year of your more! And let me be the first to wish you a “Happy More Year!”
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Do it …in spite of fear!
There are motivational speakers who encourage us to dream BIG and scary dreams. I don’t know about you, but I hate being afraid of anything. As a matter of fact, I’m tired of being led by fear. Remember my revelation about my inability to dream? Unfortunately, my ability to dream was replaced by a paralyzing fear of being let down. And worse of all, letting myself down.
It was a sobering “a-ha” moment for me, but one that drove me to make a declaration that I would “do it in fear” – no matter what! My “it” could be anything – from launching Grown Woman…ish! to walking into the unknown possibilities. It was a liberating and joyful moment that I celebrated by making an accountability post with Four Reminders on Instagram on December 13, 2020 for all to see. You know how things become real when posted on social media – LOL!
Four Reminders and IG Real
Instagram post on December 13, 2020 It seemed like making those declarations opened the floodgates of fear when I decided to launch Grown Woman…ish! I planned to use my blog to build the discipline and consistency that is necessary to write my book (#2 on my list). My dream of writing my book has been in my mind for the past 20 years. What if I fail? Succeed? What if I’m not good enough? The “what ifs” were uninvited guests at the party in my head. I finally kicked my uninvited guests out by drafting my ideas for my blog and purchasing the web domain for Grown Woman…ish! last fall. I was on my way until I allowed work frustrations convince me that this would be a mediocre effort at best.
My unpopulated and unpublished Grown Woman…ish! domain sat for 7 months. But, I my spirit felt unsettled. I kept feeling a gentle push to write and even jotted down titles, but I resisted it. I chalked Grown Woman…ish! as one of those fleeting great ideas in my mind. My husband asked me when I was going to write. I made excuses about how I was so busy; the website was too technical to set up on my own; and it was too expensive to hire a professional to do it for me.
The excuse-making and back stepping changed this past March when I received a text message from a girlfriend during my morning prayer time. She woke out of her sleep with a divine message for me to write. BOOM! There it was – the confirmation that I needed to shift gears from park to drive!
Fighting Mediocrity
Photo by Arissa Chatassa on Unsplash I wasn’t purposed for a life of mediocrity, nor are you. I believe that a mediocre life is the result of unpursued dreams. It doesn’t matter if our ideas or dreams are successful, it matters if we don’t try. Our lives are transformed to greatness by the lessons and blessings that are gained in every experience. Achieving greatness and destiny are married to the divinely-guided dreams that are placed in our minds and hearts. We can create a future for our present right now!
Many of us carry BIG dreams in our minds, but we allow the “what-ifs” to stop us before we even start. Or we allow others to leave the residue of their unrealized dreams or fears on us. Sometimes its best to share the dream by actually doing it in silence – now that’s truly a Grown Woman…ish! move. Silence that isn’t an act of selfishness, but self-care. Oh and we will talk about true self-care and what it looks like at another time. Spoiler alert – it’s more than having a mimosa and massage!
Treat your dream like a precious gems that could fracture if it’s dropped. Rhianna reminds us to “shine bright like a diamond”. Sis, the world needs the brilliance of your diamond! Find your “it” and fight your “what ifs” by doing and shining! Do your “IT” in spite of fear….with your Grown Woman…ish self!
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Sorry, too many sorry’s!
Hey, Sis, stop apologizing for stupid.. ish! I’m going to begin this post with a list that qualify as stupid ish to apologize for –
Don’t apologize for…..
- People who let you down
- Jobs that don’t recognize your greatness or potential
- Disrespectful children
- Being your authentic self
- Cutting off people and/or situations from your life that don’t serve or treat you well
- Situations that you have no control
- Fill in the blank ____________________________
Sorry, that’s too many sorry’s for me…and you! Trust is earned, not given. Why do we treat the priceless gift of our grace with any less value? As a child, I was forced to apologize even when I wasn’t the offender. Can you relate? If so, then it conditioned us to accept responsibility for wrongdoings or small injustices that we didn’t commit. How many times did you say, “but I didn’t do anything’? Now that we’re good and grown, sometimes we revert back to our child selves and automatically apologize. Have you ever apologized for something that you didn’t do to make immediate peace? However, the price of your fake apology was an inner-discomfort that couldn’t be settled. It’s because you gave away an “I’m sorry” to someone who didn’t deserve it.
Today, I was talking to one of my girlfriends about a dating situation. She has been dating a guy for a couple of months. This weekend, dude pulled a Harry Houdini and disappeared on my friend. They spoke, hours after their scheduled date and my friend delivered a “natural, salty-arse” (not a typo) reaction to his lame excuse. I was into her account of the events until….she apologized to him for her “natural, salty-arse” (not a typo) reaction. What??!!! My reaction was, “you had nothing to apologize for!” I get it, we want to present ourselves as controlled and mature. However, he deserved her “natural, salty-arse” (not a typo) reaction! Grace is divinely granted without any effort by the recipient. There is power in the grace that we give by choice. And sometimes we give the power of our grace away to those that don’t deserve it.
Own your ish, but no one else’s!
Owning my mistakes; apologizing; and making it right is one of my life mantras. I now realize that this is a principle that everyone doesn’t subscribe to. Why was it necessary for me to “own” someone else’s shortcomings? I owned someone else’s mistakes when I gave away my “I’m sorry” to those who never gave me theirs. Chalk that to my people-pleasing tendencies that I am working to eliminate.
Photo by Hay S on Unsplash Own your “I’m sorry”!
I’ve done it too many times to recall. It’s been my automatic response to individuals at work who offended me; unreliable men that I dated; and any situation that I wanted to bandage my disappointment or hurt. I’m not saying to walk around with an unforgiving spirit or with a chip on your shoulder. What I am saying is to recognize and treasure the value of “your grace”. Sometimes it means spending a Saturday night alone. Or having an uncomfortable conversation with a manager, co-worker or even family member about what you’re not going to accept. It’s past time to step up and OWN our grace! OWN your “I’m sorry”!
Sis, make your grace count! Give your “I’m sorry” power by using it when you own the offense and can make it right. Don’t bandage a hurt or disappointment with an “I’m sorry” because it makes you or your offender feel better. Hold those accountable who offend you, give them space to apologize …AND make it right. Be prepared to walk away because the power of your grace and peace is worth it.
What is something that we shouldn’t apologize for? Drop a comment below.
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Age is more than a number…
I am humming, “age ain’t nothin’ but a number… by Aaliyah as I type the thoughts that are being dictated in my mind.” Yes, I’m a 70’s baby who came of age in the 1990’s. I celebrated my 50th Queen Day last year and will be 51 in less than one month.
Last week, I was plagued by the thought that I had wasted my life because I didn’t have biological babies. I felt as if my alarm clock went off and I didn’t hear it until missed my window of opportunity had passed. As someone who works to put her counseling sessions into practice, I reflected to understand where the root of this thought grew from. How did I get my perception of aging? Why don’t I feel my age? Well at least mentally – LOL! I deduced that it was because my family culture defies age!
Long LIFErs!
We are a family of long LIFErs! We live out loud and for a long time. My Dad fathered me and my brother in his mid-late 40’s. Mom went back to college at 40 and achieved her nursing degree in her mid-forties. My Aunts and Uncles (on Dad’s side) lived well into their 80’s, 90’s and even 100’s! I am from a lineage of age-defying folks. For me, age is more than a number. It is something to grow into with style and grace, like a pair of new leather shoes. They’re snug when you first put them on, but with time they contour to the uniqueness of your feet and become your perfect fit!
As I put two and two together, I thought that I had more time when it came to having a baby. I lived my Life Out Loud in the prime of my child bearing years, affectionately known as my “Roaring 20’s”. I worked late; traveled some; mad dumb ass decisions; fell in like – once or twice, or maybe a few times; partied and by the time that I looked up….I was in my 30’s. By then, I realized that it was more to life than having a good time.
Getting my “ish” together!
My third decade of life was devoted to “getting my ish” together. I went back to school for my MBA, budgeted, paid my bills on time; became a caregiver for my aging Dad…and got serious about life. Sure, I had a bunch of situationships and thought that they were promising at the time, but none led to anything meaningful, but disappointment and tears. I remember excitedly telling one of my girlfriends about a guy who I had met and was excited about. She was like, “but you said that the other one could be the one?” Then I replied, “he was almost the one..until he wasn’t.” Pinkie promise that I will tell you about my “9 week phenomena” at another time.
Photo by Eye For Ebony on Unsplash Surviving and thriving!
Anywho, I fell into the same survival pattern as many of my black sisters do, I adopted the “IDGAF” mentality and worked to achieve my non-mommy related goals. I threw myself into my work because it was the only thing that I could control and produce outcomes that matched my efforts. I was promoted into management; received local and state recognition for my work; traveled; kicked it with my girls in our monthly book club kickbacks; bought my first house and adopted my dog baby. I was living the black American girl dream – sans the family that I desired. I’m going to wait to share about my fourth decade for another time.
As I sit here, still humming Aaliyah…I am now nodding in agreement – “age ain’t nothing but a number.” Truth – it’s taken me longer than most to enjoy the life that I have now. I am a wife, doggy Mom to Cooper, bonus Mom and Grandma (AKA Ms. Kim). But I am living in truth to my family culture of “age defiers”! And I plan to keep living in defiance of the pre-set rules and expectations of society. I am going to age in stride with grace and style in my well-worn leather shoes…with red bottoms even!
When my mind takes me on a journey that I can’t control, it helps me to remind myself what is true. (*Shout out to my AWESOME counselor Lisa McCraney, Hope to Healing).
Truth-telling
Truth – I am in a constant state of blooming. Good seed always produces multiple blooms in its due season.
Truth – my latter days are greater than my former. I have more smiles in my life now than tears.
Truth – I am defying my biological age and will Live Out Loud for as long as I can.
Truth – age is a number, but it doesn’t have to define who I am. I will relish in it and enjoy the “mores” that come along – more wisdom, more IDGAF, more truth and more of ME!
