#LOLOSLOVELIFE: SINGLE NO MINGLE

It’s been over a month since the Boston Bear and I parted ways. I’m using the words “parted ways” because it was more of a business transaction than a break-up. Break-ups to me include tears, long conversations, arguments, some sort of care to fight it out. There was none of that.  While I admit the shock of how it ended stung for a few weeks, I have found peace. Ultimately, we were just two people not capable of a relationship, not just with each other but anyone for that matter. One of us was more consumed with business aspirations than a meaningful relationship. One of was unable to open up due to fear of abandonment, and rejection. I’ll let you decide which was which.

Boston Bear was nice, but looking back I’m not sure either of us would have gotten into a relationship with the other if our lives were in better places. The relationship was notable in that it was the first time I had trusted a man enough to call him in my boyfriend in over four years. It’s also the first time a man I really cared for did nothing to fight for our relationship. The lack of energy put into saving “us” was hard for me to grasp. I loved hard in my twenties, and every man I uttered the words "I love you" too loved just as hard. And, even when it was over each of those men gave all they had to try to make it work. So when Boston Bear didn’t I was stunned.  I second guessed myself. I became self-conscience. I’ve spent a lot of time in prayer about that. Focusing on self-love and reconnecting on the love that never tires of fighting for me which is God’s love for me.

Now that the chapter with Boston Bear has come to a close, and I’m no longer beating myself up mentally about it, I’ve come to realize I not only want to be single for a super long time, I think maybe I need to be. Before you go call me a Bitter Betty who is so hurt from her last relationship she is ruling out men, hear me out. Here is what I am learning are the perks to being single— and why I have absolutely no desire for a mate in the next month or maybe even the next few years.

I DO NOT WANT KIDS- Yup you read that right. I am 33 years old and I am drawn to puppies more than babies. There is still a societal expectation that women my age should be married and with child. People say, “Your biological clock is ticking.” Hey we live in a world world where 50 year women like Janet Jackson are popping out babies. I have time. But seriously having a child takes sacrifice, patience, and selflessness. These are all things I am not ready to give. Also, rational or not I am super afraid of passing down generational hurt to my children. There are a lot of wounds from my family and childhood that have yet to heal. And, until I’ve faced those things and learned to make peace with them I don’t think having a child would be wise.

I WANT TO BE SELFISH- Since my first suicide attempt in 2014, I’ve lost everything I held dear. I finally feel like I am getting a second chance to live a life of my own path and creation. I want to pursue this new life boldly. Also when I was dating the Boston Bear I felt the need to be so selfless it wasn’t long before I submitting to all his needs and none of mine. In this chapter of my life, I want to look out for me only. I want to chase the dreams of my heart, consider me first, and learn to love myself completely.

DESIRES OF MY HEART - One of the beautiful things of my recovery is that I am discovering my purpose and new dreams are unfolding. I am in the process of writing my first memoir, and taking a bold leap of faith to become a professional motivational speaker. I want to pursue those things wholeheartedly. I want to travel, and see God’s beautiful world. I want to share my story across the world.

INDEPENDENCE -  Being homeless meant I had to rely on so many other people; shelters, social services, friends, strangers. Now I want to know what life feels like relying on God first and my strength second.

I AM AT PEACE/ MY HEART IS FULL - Throughout my twenties I wanted so badly to be loved and coupled. I had this ideal in my heart that I’d be married, and knocked up by twenty eight. Now, as I am moving into my own place, growing in a job that I love, I don’t have that same aching for a romantic relationship.  And, as time goes on I am less connected to the ideal of marriage; the idea of finding completion in another person. This is a major departure from my dreams in the past. It is not that I do not believe in marriage. I just don’t think I want it for myself anymore. Also I've met some amazing friends who have become family who fill my heart is so many great ways.

Who knows maybe 5 years from now I will meet a man is Dwayne Johnson’s carbon copy and we’ll fall madly in love. Until then I am perfectly fine—alone, single, solo….just me.

The Power of Telling Your Own Story: The Black Danielle Steele

The Power of Telling Your Own Story: The Black Danielle Steele

When I was a little girl I always dream of being a big time writer. Cover of magazines, book tour, celebrity big writer. Way before Carrie Bradshaw from Sex and the City made writing sexy and fun, I wanted to be like Danielle Steele. Steele is a hugely popular, best-selling romance novelist. She paints the most beautiful love stories with her words. And, to top it off she loves luxury. Before I’d start any Danielle Steele book I’d turn to the back of the book to see her author head shot. Home girl was always on point. Her long hair, straight, and luscious hair would be pressed to perfection. Her makeup was flawless, and she was always sporting some seriously gorgeous jewelry. Before grammar, vocabulary, and punctuation would scare me from a writing career, I dreamt of being the Black Danielle Steele. (I apologize in advance for any grammatical errors you see in this blog. I do my own editing, and like I said grammar scared me from writing career.)  A few D’s in English class shot any dreams I had of being a writer. The pain of being rejected in a subject I loved so dearly was so painful I shelved the idea of ever becoming the Black Danielle Steele or the successful public speaking career I thought would blossom from my New York Times Bestselling books.

I still remember the time I brought home a ‘D’ in English. The reaction from my stepfather was enough for me to never believe I’d be a writer in real life. “Writer’s don’t get ‘D’s,” he said looking down at my red marked essay I brought home from school. I am sure he meant well, and didn’t realize how hard I took the criticism. But, what I heard was, “You are not writer material.” I continued to write in journals, and occasionally I’d write pretend soap opera skits and spread them around to my friends, but I never seriously pursued a writing career after that. I did not submit anything to school magazines, or offer to read in class.

I am now 33 with a much different story than I thought I’d be writing, and a new desire to recapture the dream of being a writer. The story I have to tell now is nothing like those steamy love stories Danielle Steele I read as kid. It is real. It is hard. It is at times shameful, and regretful. It is mine. I’ve been sharing my story from mini TV fame to surviving suicide to homelessness to the road to my recovery for over a year now. I am now writing my story with the help of an amazing organization called 'The Muse', giving speeches on my story, reliving the pain of my story, praying for grace and mercy along the way. I hope my story shows people that all of us possess the strength to survive unimaginable pain, heartbreak, and mental illness.

As I reflect on my last year as a mental health advocate and speaker I often recall the first speech I ever gave on my depression and how it motivated me to keep sharing. Last March I gave my first speech in a small church in front of some of the warmest, most compassionate Christians I’ve ever met. I remember standing before the congregation, with tears coming down my face as I shared my suicide attempts, the renewal of my walk with God, healing and the road to recovery. Afterwards, so many people shared their same struggles. We hugged. We laughed. We even cried together. We rejoiced, and a part of me started to feel stronger. Stronger, because I had survived to tell my story.

When I dreamed of being a writer and speaker as a little girl, this is not the story I thought I’d be telling. But, now that I’ve started telling it, I can’t stop. Now I don’t just talk for me. I talk for every person that finds comfort, hope, and acceptance listening to my story. With every speech I feel this is part of my new calling in life.

I can’t wait to see my book in print. I am taking a memoir class, and growing more and more confident in my writing ability. Some days I am frightened to keep writing. Some days I am too sad to walk down memory lane. But, most days the little girl in me is beaming. She is excited to think of having her picture in the back of the book, and her words capturing readers across the world.

Thank you for everyone who has supported my journey as a writer, mental health advocate, blogger, and speaker thus far.

If you’d like to continue helping me reach the dream of publication, you can do so with a small donation to my GoFundMe Page. Donations will be used to buy a new lab top ( I am borrowing one now), to pay for my hotel and airfare to a huge writer’s conference in Tampa next year, and more writing classes.

All donation can be made to www.gofundme.com/teamgoodgirl