She Is: Values Pt. 2

This post is part of a series. To get the full experience, start here.

Accountability: an obligation or willingness to accept responsibility or to account for one’s actions.

Merriam-Webster

In elementary school, we had a ritual that laid the foundation. At the start of each day, a short greeting and some specific instructions echoed from the loudspeaker at the front of the room: Stand beside your desk, say the Pledge of Allegiance, and repeat this mantra:

“I am special.
I am responsible for my actions.
I am going to do my best work today.”

I repeated those three sentences every day from kindergarten through fourth grade, so I can’t say I’m shocked they stuck. Add in a Black mama who didn’t play about decorum plus my Virgo sun sign and the “A” in my initials might as well stand for Accountable.

I’ve always felt an obligation and a willingness to accept responsibility for my actions. It is my duty to hold myself accountable to my own personal convictions and be the person my mama raised me to be, a kind, generous, productive, contributing member of society. I also really like being the person who does what they say they’ll do, someone others can rely on. When people think of me, I want them think of someone who says what she means, means what she says, and isn’t afraid to admit when she’s wrong.

It frustrates me that others aren’t as accountable. I know I hold myself to some pretty high standards (I am very, very much a Virgo) but sometimes I wonder why some people refuse to take the tiniest bit of accountability. Too many folks make excuses, act wishy-washy, or have a million and one reasons why everyone else is at fault but them.

I’ll use myself as an example! I wholeheartedly intended to post updates to this series every week. But for a whole host of reasons, this post didn’t go up when I wanted. I didn’t do exactly what I said I would.

I could blame my job for keeping me busy. Or my husband and dog for needing my attention. Or even my iPad for not having enough battery!

But that isn’t accountability.

Instead, I will acknowledge that the post is late (which it is). I will apologize if that upset anyone (sorry about that y’all). And in the future, I’ll do my best to post on time (and hopefully y’all will give me grace if I am late sometimes).

Nobody’s perfect, but we can all try to hold ourselves accountable for our actions. We can all take responsibility for the actions we take and the energy we put into the world, even when we mess up.

She Is: Values Pt. 1

As promised in my last post, I’m back to share my 8 core values from Brené Brown’s Dare to Lead list. The values I hold most deeply are:

  • Accountability
  • Equality
  • Financial Stability
  • Honesty
  • Independence
  • Loyalty
  • Perseverance
  • Reliability

To get to this list, I narrowed the full list of over 100 values down to 24 finalists. My final 8 came from those 24. In the original version of this activity, you should narrow down even further to just 2 or 3 values. However, my therapist recommended choosing 8 because our value system can be complex. And let’s be honest- choosing just 2 or 3 values wouldn’t make of a blog series. 🙂

I expected this exercise to be difficult, but holy dang! A lot of introspection and reflection went into just narrowing the list down. I also really thought about what each value meant, searching for definitions and critically assessing what that word meant to me.

I highly encourage everyone who is on a path of personal growth to identify their own top 8! You can view the full list of values here. By examining our thoughts and motivations, we can better understand ourselves and each other.

Tangled Up in Me

Where can you reduce clutter in your life?

Since I was a child, I’ve always had a lot of “stuff.” School papers, books, knickknacks, stuffed animals—if I received it, I kept it. To this day, my mother expresses amazement at the system of organized chaos I maintained. Yes, my room was a mess, but that mess was cataloged (and if you messed with my mess I would definitely notice).

As an adult, I’m still inclined to keep things but to a significantly smaller extent. These days I hang onto sentimental stuff: cards, photos, ticket stubs, items that are typically smaller and easier to store. I actually competed a project last month to reorganized all my mementos; they are now separated by phase of life, tucked away in labeled bins for easy reference in the future. (How very Virgo of me, spending my hard earned vacation time on home organization projects haha.)

Nowadays, the mental clutter requires more attention than the physical. I struggle so hard with letting memories go…especially when they hurt. The rejections, the embarrassments, the dismissals, the failures, the missed opportunities—all of them live rent-free in my brain and they love making their presence known.

I understand our brains do lots of wild stuff because of evolution; they are hard wired to protect us from danger and memory is part of that. But what I don’t understand is why I can’t purge some of this mental clutter. Why I hold onto it, pull it off the shelf, and examine it so often (even when I’d rather be thinking about pretty much anything else.)

It reminds me of a song:

I’m real good at forgiving

But my heart can’t forget

The ache before the mend

Kelly Clarkson, skip this part

I’m pretty good at moving on, but for some reason my brain just refuses to let go of all the hurt.

Maybe this is all for some higher purpose I haven’t realized yet. Or maybe it’s my depression and anxiety playing tricks on me (as they are known to do). Either way, I’d love to clear out some of these old hurts and make room for more positive thoughts.

skip this part

Can I skip this part
When I fall to pieces
Back here at start
Need a time machine then

If I could escape all this hurt and this pain, oh, I would
What it’s gonna take to get me through this break is no good

Kelly Clarkson, ‘skip this part’

I know I’m guilty of pushing my feelings aside for convenience, self-preservation, and to protect other people’s feelings. Those so-called “bad” feelings—anger, disappointment, frustration—I’m the queen of holding that ish in. For some many reasons, I’ve convinced myself that these very natural feelings should be hidden away. Other people can feel that way, but not me. Can’t let people know when they hurt you—that’s weakness! Never show people you’re upset—don’t wanna be a buzzkill!

But even the “good” feelings are carefully sequestered; joy, passion, and enthusiasm are carefully meted. Phrases like “a crime of passion” always freaked me out because the emotion takes over. I never want to lose control of myself, even for “good” reason. Not only that, if I allow myself to fully experience those emotions then I’ll open myself up to disappointment. Don’t get too happy because you’ll feel that tumble and crash into sadness even more. Don’t get too excited because then it will hurt twice as much when someone (especially someone you love) lets you down.

But today and from now on, I allow myself to feel.

I am so sick of putting myself into a box because it’s easier than living outside of it. I am wasting one of the most beautiful human experiences—feeling and emotion—because I’m worried about how other people will react. I will always consider and respect the feelings of others, and I try to never shame anyone for feeling a way. So I’m going to apply that sentiment to myself from now on.

Do you allow yourself to feel? How do you express your feelings in a healthy, non-destructive way that still respects the feelings of others?

Think Twice

Today my affirmation was, “I will make good choices today.” Not easy choices. Or convenient ones. Good choices.

And it was HARD.

Lately I’ve come to admit that the way I moved through life in the past doesn’t serve me as much anymore. The perfectionism, the self doubt, the use of fear and criticism as motivators—they helped me survive. They were my rock and slingshot, meager tools for slaying giants but effective nonetheless. For a very long time, they felt like the only tools I had.

But now, I choose differently.

I choose to let go of what I can’t change. I choose to believe in myself. I choose to stop punishing for being human. I choose to treat my body with kindness. I choose to speak to myself gently and with encouragement.

I owe it to the version of myself who thought there was no other way.

Meaning of Life

What would you do if you lost all your possessions?

Before I share my perspective, I want to acknowledge how privileged I am to have never experienced losing all my possessions. I’ve never known life without clothes on my back, food in my belly, and a place to lay my head and store my belongings. My heart aches for anyone who has ever lost all they owned.

But when I stop to think about what it would be like to lose all my possessions, my mind whispers

free

I admit I am a bit of a pack rat and I hold onto many things that should have been donated or trashed long ago. Just yesterday, I went through my closets and came out with two large bags full of gently used clothes for donation, much of which hadn’t been worn in at least a year.

It sounds so liberating, getting rid of it all. No “I might need this” or “someday I’ll use that”—just starting over with nothing to hold me back. A clean slate.

But all means ALL, doesn’t it?

The wooden figure bought in Bali the day I knew my husband was “the one.”

The birthday cards from my mother through the years, with words of love in her perfect cursive.

The UK memorabilia my daddy collected.

The American flag that laid across his casket.

I would put on a brave face, for sure. But underneath the stoicism and the “things are just things” attitude I would be

devastated

Eventually, I would move on. Time would dull the pain of losing. I’d gather more things.

And hopefully, freedom would come with the understanding that possessions spark memories, and memories can last forever even without the physical token.

So I’ll value my possessions and treat them with care while I have them…

…because I know there may come a day when memories are all that’s left.

This Time

Oh. My. Goodness. …Am I actually getting my shit together?!?

Short answer: Yes. (FINALLY.)

I know it’s been awhile but I’ve decided to give this blogging thing a try. Again. For the umpteenth time. After OVER A YEAR of crickets on the blog.

It isn’t like I haven’t thought about it, though. I’ve often tried to drum up the inspiration, the energy to write. But it didn’t feel right until now.

You know, one of the reasons I’ve avoided writing here is because this blog chronicles some of the lowest points of my life. Reading the entries reminds me of how broken, how lost and afraid I was. The wounds may have healed a bit over time, but the memories of their infliction never faded.

My goal now is to rediscover my love of writing, explore all the things I’m learning about myself on my journey through therapy, and HEAL. (Not necessarily in that order.)

If I’m lucky, maybe I’ll help some of y’all who are healing too.

Life is full of twists and turns, a road ever winding with deep curves ahead. Some times we find ourselves at dead ends. Other times the path is leisurely, not a pothole or speed bump in sight. The only thing we know for sure is that there is no GPS and we can’t refill our tanks when our fuel finally runs out.

So let’s take this journey.

Let’s hop into the driver’s seat of our lives.

Spark the ignition of hope.

Check the rear view mirror to remember where we came from.

Turn toward the path of growth, peace, joy.

…and hit the gas.

The Weight

I pulled in to Nazareth, I was feelin’ ’bout a half past dead
I just need some place where I can lay my head
Hey mister, can you tell me where a girl might find a bed (can you tell me)
He just grinned and shook my hand, no was all he said

-Aretha Franklin, ‘The Weight’

If you’re wondering why I haven’t posted lately, it’s because I’ve been feeling the weight.

An unarmed Black man was murdered by a police officer in his own apartment.

Brett Kavanaugh will likely become part of the Supreme Court.

Wisconsin, where I live, is slowly recovering from historic flooding that destroyed many structures and even killed someone.

The White House is in chaos.

As a Black woman in America, getting through each day lately has been utterly exhausting.  Watching the news makes me so anxious, but I can’t not watch–I need to know how close to oblivion we are getting.  Unfortunately, we are inching closer and closer every day.

The weight is bearing down on me.  It’s bearing down on a lot of us.

But I can’t let it take me out.  We can’t let it bring us down.

We have to continue to help and love each other, regardless of what we look like or how much money we have or where we’re from.

We have to fight back against those trying to tear apart our country with racism and discrimination.

We have to keep moving forward.

Yes, I’m still feeling the weight.  The struggle to make it through each day is still very real.  But I like to think that my muscles are getting stronger.  I’m trying to find something positive in each day to keep me moving forward.

I hope you are too.

 

 

Music of My Heart: Pt. 2

Another day, another influential album.  🙂

Second on the list is…

breakaway

Album:  Breakaway
Artist:  Kelly Clarkson
Released:  2004

Anybody else reallyyyyyyyy into American Idol back in the day?  I know I was a huge fan of the ORIGINAL series (I’ve got opinions on the recent revival of the show–that’s for another post) that brought us the legend known as Kelly Clarkson.

I must admit, I wasn’t even rooting for Kelly to win the inaugural season of AI.  I was a teenage girl back then, which meant I was squarely on #TeamJustinGuarini.  (What can I say?  He was cute, and I had raging teen girl hormones controlling my thoughts.)  But Kelly definitely deserved to win.  Homegurl can SANG.  I enjoyed her debut album (Thankful) that came out as a result of her winning the show.

But her sophomore album Breakaway…that album was special.  It was the soundtrack for my high school years, even though it didn’t come out until I was a senior.

For a long time, I didn’t know that the feelings of desolation I had were actually signs of depression.  Breakaway helped me get through the pain I experienced (especially breaking up with my first boyfriend).  One song in particular called “Hear Me” was my heartsong.  I felt like I was in a crowd, screaming for help, and no one noticed.

Hear me
I’m cryin’ out
I’m ready now
Turn my world upside down
Find me
I’m lost inside the crowd
It’s getting loud
I need you to see
I’m screaming for you to please
Hear me

(If you haven’t checked our Part 1 of this series, please do!)

Music of My Heart: Pt. 1

Music, at its essence, is what gives us memories.

And the longer a song has existed in our lives, the more memories we have of it. 

-Stevie Wonder

Mr. Stevie had it right, y’all.  So much music colors my life.  A song comes on and within the first few notes, I’m transported.  Memories, bright and sharply focused, take me back in time.  Depending on the song, I could laugh out loud or burst into tears.  I welcome all the memories–happy and sad–that the music brings to me.

Starting today, I’ll post the artwork for an album.  Some are old; others are more recent.  Some brought me joy; others got me through the toughest times in my life.  All make up the soundtrack of my life, the music of my heart.

First up…

lemonade.jpg

Album:  Lemonade
Artist:  Beyoncé
Released:  2016

 

I remember exactly where I was when I first heard Lemonade.  After a cruise celebrating my mother’s birthday I sat in the Detroit Metro airport, waiting for the flight to take me home.  I’d heard the buzz about the album–the controversy over “Formation” at the Super Bowl halftime show, the shock that she made a whole entire film to go with it (#whodoesthat #yourfavecouldnever #shesthegreatest)–so I had to hear what the Queen was talkin’ ’bout. I purchased the album on iTunes and listened to it over…

…and over…

…and over.

At some points, I openly wept.  In the terminal, on the plane–I couldn’t hold back the tears.  You see, I had a tough time recovering from abuse from my ex-fiance.  I felt betrayed.  I felt angry.  I felt afraid.  I was just coming to the realization that, even though I felt powerless, I was the one who controlled my life.  Lemonade spoke to all that betrayal, anger, and fear.  It let me know I would make it through and be a stronger woman in the end.

In “Sandcastles”, Beyoncé sings:

Dishes smashed on my counter

From our last encounter

Pictures snatched out the frame

Bitch I scratched out your name

And your face

What is it about you

That I can’t erase

When every promise don’t work out that way

Her voice breaks at, “What is it about you that I can’t erase?” and it was like she read my heart and turned my deepest feelings into song.  I wanted to forget my ex so bad–because he hurt me so bad–but he still haunted me.

Lemonade was my strength.  Even today, every time a song from the album comes on, I stop and listen.

 

(Special thanks to Eli W. for inspiring this series!)