I am in love.

Yes the title is accurate. After all of these years of focusing on my children and my career, I have fallen in love, and believe it or not it was one of the scariest things I’ve ever done, yet one of the most rewarding.

Why was it scary? Falling in love is beautiful, right? Yes it is, beyond beautiful. However, when you have been single for as many years as I have, giving a part of yourself to someone that you have no control of them breaking is scary. See for so many years my focus was on children and my career. My children whom I birthed, who needed and depended on me, who I love more than myself, who always have been by my side, right, wrong, or, indifferent. My offsprings that I would die for that love is safe, and sacred. Then there is my career. My career that I have worked hard for, sacrificed for, my career that rewarded my hard work. My career that has metrics to measure performance, and a clear promotion path that I can see. My children and my career have been my constant. I thank God for them every day.

I have been extremely vocal about being a single mother with a full time career. The highs, the lows, the struggles, the blessings. Not only has this been my voice, it has been a huge part of my sole existence. I didn’t think much about a relationship, because the truth is between my children and my career my time was extremely limited, or it least that’s what I told myself. I don’t have time, I move too much, sometimes it’s hard for others to accept my work ethic, and success. These were things I told myself, so that I never became too attached if I were dating.

Then my King came into my life, completely unexpected. He awoke something in me that I didn’t even know existed. He is loving, caring, supportive, affectionate. He is everything I wanted in another human, yet I was afraid to admit. I remember trying to guard my heart. I remember thinking “what if he breaks my heart?” Could I really cope with my emotions being all over the place if that happened? The fear of the unknown is hard. Yet the regret of not taking a risk was even harder. Then there was the elephant in the room….social media. I share a lot on my platforms, and I promised to be authentic, and keep it real, but did I want to share this part of my life? Self-sufficient, independent, those have been two words that have easily described me. Would that change if I shared this part of my life? What if it doesn’t work out? What if it’s too good to be true? What if I’m not good for him? What if I’m too hard to love? So forth and so forth.

The day I finally decided to share my happiness with my platform, I remember feeling a bit scared, a bit uneasy, then I remembered the quote tattooed on my back. “What if I fall? Oh but my darling, what if you fly?” This is what I stand for. Being bold, being unapologetic, fighting through fear. How could I not share that I am in love? How could I not share that I am happy, like truly happy. When I see him my soul comes alive. When he holds me I feel safe. Even though I know I can do it on my own, it is such an indescribable feeling to know that I don’t have to. I was worried falling in love would cause me to lose myself, or sacrifice the things that are important to me….but in fact, it did the opposite. I have discovered parts of myself I didn’t know existed. I feel so secure in myself and in us because he supports me. He is so patience with me that he has taught me to be patience with myself. I love him irrevocably, and instead of being concerned about all the what ifs, I am learning to live in the moment with him and being ok with giving the most vulnerable part of myself to him (my heart.) knowing he has the ability to break it, but hoping and praying he does not. This evolution in my life is called happiness and bliss and being bold with enjoying it.

I share all of this to say, if you are self-sufficient don’t be afraid of loving and being loved. Although it can be scary, it is ok to let someone in, because you may just discover this journey in life is so much sweeter when you can share it with someone else.

The underdog!

What a title right! Hello I’d like to introduce myself. I am the underdog! It’s a title I didn’t ask for. I never asked to be the underdog, I never said self when I was young “I would like to be an underdog.” When I was young I wanted to be an astronaut, a princess, at one time a vampire…but never did I say “I want to be an underdog.” It wasn’t until I learned of statistics for single black women with children, or heard people doubting my capabilities that did not know me, that I understood the meaning of a underdog. Once again this wasn’t a title I asked for. I mean think about when we are young, we hear we can be anything we want to be, we can accomplish anything we put our mind to. Why does that theory change once we become adults? Who drew the line that at a certain age we can’t accomplish things? Who drew the line that a certain gender can’t accomplish things? Who drew the line that one’s skin color means they can’t accomplish certain things? Who drew the line that if you don’t look a certain way you can’t accomplish things? Where exactly is this line located at? Today is the day WE STEP OVER THE LINE!

Hello let me introduce myself, I am the underdog. I have been underestimated a lot in my lifetime. I have heard she doesn’t have enough education, she isn’t analytical enough, she doesn’t look the part, she is a single mother, she is too passionate, she doesn’t have the financial status, that has never been done before, she isn’t the one to do it…it’s impossible, so forth, and so forth, etc…etc…etc…

Hello let me introduce myself I am the underdog. Through all the doubt, even with the naysayers, what they didn’t see was my grit. I may not be the smartest person in the room, but I am certainly the person with the most grit. I may have been overlooked for opportunities, but when it was finally my turn I put in in the work, and I never fold. I may not say all the right things to make you feel as though I am the most intelligent person in the room, but give me a little time and I will show you with results, that nothing is impossible. Rather I have a little, or much, I work as though I have everything to loose. Late nights, early mornings, weekends, it doesn’t matter. When you wear the title of the underdog, you understand that you have glass ceilings to break, not only for yourself, but every underdog that has been underestimated just like you.

This blog is for the underdogs, the ones that continue to defy the odds. The ones that may have to work harder, may have to build more muscle, may have to start at the bottom, may have to get it out the mud, may have to get in the trenches, may have to get a little dirty, may have to prove themselves a little more….This is for you! One thing about the underdog I know for certain, is they will win, they will celebrate their team, they will forever be passionate about people and lead through servant leadership, they will learn from failures, but most importantly THEY WILL NEVER GIVE UP!

Your hair takes how long?

Yep you read the title let’s get it into it. I’m an African American woman and I don’t just “make a hair appointment” there are steps to this.

First my appointment is booked a month out because my beautician is booked and busy…and well I can’t just let anyone do my hair. Next the process of “getting my hair done” is a day and a half process. It is now midnight and I’m still taking my braids out (and also creating this blog) I’ll complete it by sometime tomorrow early afternoon, then I still have to wash, condition, and blow dry my hair. Next I have to go to the hair store, because well I need the hair for my next set of braids, then I head to the shop for my beautician to install, which normally takes about 6 hours.

I am an African American woman and this is process of doing my hair. It is planned out, thought out, scheduled in advanced, and a whole lot of patience. Next time that African American woman walks in with her hair braided, or a sew in, just know that she had to block off her calendar for her hair appointment, get things done in advance to ensure she could make her appointment.

The joys of being at the beauty shop. Being in that shop is serenity, being at the beauty shop is sacred. The beauty shop is like therapy, sometimes she pours her heart out, sometimes she falls asleep, but once her hair is finished and she looks in the mirror something magical happens…..she smiles and says “yaaassss I’m back!” So the next time you see a woman with braids and her edges are slicked down, give her compliment because she put thought and an extreme amount of effort into her crown.

It’s just hair you may think, but it’s not, it’s not just hair. It’s a semblance of who one is, or how one feels, or how one chooses to express themselves. It’s more than just hair, when your beautician slays your hair do, they are creating art and you are their muse. So your hair takes how long? Yep all of that and then some…….sprinkled with a whole lotta magic 🪄

Hello! My day doesn’t end at 5pm!

I know someone read this title and was like “hold up let me click on this cause she must be talking to and or about me.”

Hello my day doesn’t end at 5! Please understand this. My work day doesn’t end at 5 and it starts around 6am when I open up my eyes. My home life doesn’t end at 5. I am a full time mom with a full time career. Let me introduce myself, my name is Quiana aka known as Mom, aka Que. I have many “careers” yep I said it many. I am a mom, a therapist (no I’m not licensed, but my for my children I am) I am a maid (not glamours…but yep that’s one of my titles) I am chef (well me and Uber eats cause um some days that is the best I can do) I am a senior director for the largest retailer in America (shout out to Walmart for giving me this amazing opportunity) I am a magician (no I didn’t mistype, really I’m a magician because some how, by some way, I show up every time when needed) I am a coach (I’m at all games, in the stands feeling as if I’m coaching. Ok so the coach may be a stretch. Probably should of led with I’m the coach in the stands at my children’s sports events…but you all get it.) I am a content creator . My sons senior year I filmed his basketball games, learned to create content, and started a Twitter just for him (y’all I sent film to Lebron James, James Harden, and anyone else’s social media handle I could find that would allow me to send dm to) I am a taxi driver (well I don’t charge a fee, and it’s for my children, their friends, their teammates but all in all I DRIVE DRIVE. Even drove a 15 passenger van full of teenage boys 10 hours to Orlando to compete in a national tournament.) I am a doctor with 24 hour availability, 7 days a week (fever, I got you, stomach ache, I’m here, heartbreak, ice cream on deck, etc, etc, etc) I’m saying all of that to say this…my day DOESN’T end at 5pm.

Therefore if you see me with bags under my eyes, if I don’t immediately respond to you, don’t think I’m ignoring you. In that moment I may be trading one title for another (going from corporate Que to mom, or mom to dr etc etc.) If I’ve had a long day at work, I don’t get to come home and go straight to bed, I have little people that aren’t so little anymore but they still depend on me. There are days I sit in my driveway for 30 minutes to decompress, because I know when I walk into the doors of my home I have to be the best version of myself for my children, and vise versa when I walk into the doors of a store, or my office, I have to be the best version of myself, not only for me but for those that are depending on me, personally and professionally. There is no one I can say tag you’re it, I’m not wearing any titles at all today! If a title is needed to worn I am the plan and the back up plan. Single parenting is parenting without a safety net.

At times you will need to have a little grace for the humans that wear many titles. Take a moment and tell them they are doing a great job. Pay it forward in the Starbucks line (you just may turn someone’s crappy day into a great one.) Take a moment and ask someone how they are doing (like really ask. Look them in their eyes and don’t accept the famous “I’m good” response.) One thing I’ve learned about humans that wear many titles, they have mastered pushing through. They have mastered doing hard better. They have mastered finding a way out of no way…every time. They have failed enough times to know that quitting isn’t an option. They are bold, fearless, and never feel sorry for themselves. They also don’t have the courage to ask for anyone to take anything off of their plate, because they’ve been juggling so much for so long that it has now become their normal. If you get the opportunity to ask a human that wears many titles, “how are you?” Please be prepared to listen, it may just surprise you that not all super hero’s wear capes.

The other woman.

I started this blog in 2019. I had decided I was ready. Ready to tell the world about you. That is until I started typing and you got into my head…..and I decided I was not. I have come to the conclusion that I have known about you my entire life. I am sure I called you different names. At times I am certain I didn’t have a clue how to describe you. But you, you have always been there. I learned early on how to hide you. I learned early on that you shouldn’t be a part of me, yet you never seemed to leave. You cause me to doubt myself, you cause me to worry about things that are not relevant, you cause me to go days without sleeping. Yet, I have learned to smile and tuck you away when needed. You anxiety have literally been my enemy my entire life. One would think by now that you would have grown tired of being such a nuisance, but have shown time after time again that you never run out of steam. Guess what neither do I. You have truly met your match in me, even though I have no clue which one of us is winning we have went so many rounds in this ring called life.

Why would I even bring you up? My entire life I have learned not to mention you out loud. I am a black woman. A warrior. A survivor. I am strength. I have been through more in my 41 years of life than most people will have gone through in multiple life times. I hear you in the back of my mind “why would you right on such a public forum about your weakness?” Well I am learning that what makes one weak can also make one strong. I am convinced that in a past life I was Athena the godess of war. There is no other explanation as to how I am still standing, still fighting, still climbing, still breathing. I am a woman who is strong, yet I have weakness I never speak of. A weakness that makes me feel as though I will never be good enough. A weakness that I don’t speak of because I never want anyone to feel I am incapable of delivering superior results. Anxiety you rear your ugly head so deep in my subconscious that not even my therapist knew you existed. Not even she could get me to talk about you. Boy oh boy we have learned to play an amazing game of hide and go seek. If it were up to you every thought in my head would be negative. I have learned to speak positivity into the atmosphere, because if I don’t I will allow you to drown me in self doubt.

At times you cause me to fear where I am in life. You make it hard for me to celebrate my accomplishments. Like if I speak too many good things out loud they will go away, or if I celebrate my wins too much I could make a wrong move and lose it all. There it is, make a wrong move. I don’t want to say or do the wrong thing, I have to strive to be perfect. I don’t ever want to have to relive my past struggles. There is no room for error Quiana. Don’t speak about your dreams out loud, don’t speak about your goals out loud, you may just taint them. That’s her. That’s her thoughts she puts in my head. I worry when my children arent in my presence, I think of all the would ifs in this world. I pray silently in my head multiple times a day, because I know that everything isn’t in my control. There are times I stay up and can not sleep. This is when she is at her strongest. Using my mind like her personal play ground. Yet when you see me you would never know. I have put a great deal of work on myself to hide her.

Do I know I am not perfect and never will be? Yes I know that. Do I know I can not keep my children in a bubble, they have to be able to explore and make their own mark on life? Yes I know that. She has also has a way of reminding me. Yet I don’t want to give her too much credit. Because even though she tries her best to bury me. I plant myself and use the dirt she throws on me to grow. See what she doesn’t realize is I am the tree that weathers the storm. I am the rainbow that came after the rain. I am the sunlight that removes the shawdows in the darkness. I am the warrior that will never cease to get back up. I am the underdog that came out triumphant. I am the rose that grew from the concrete. Yes she is a part of me, but she is not me. She does not control me. She may cause me to stumble sometimes but I get stronger every day. Yes she is a part of me….but anxiety is NOT ME.

I wrote this truth tonight for anyone that may struggle with anxiety. You are not alone. You are not weak. You are more than enough. Positive things can happen in your life. It isn’t too good to be true. It is ok to be happy. Do not let anxiety take another minute, another second away from you. Stop waiting for the other shoe to drop. It is ok to celebrate your wins.

What happens when your body sits you down?

I am, me. I am a warrior. I am a survivor. I am a magician. I am a leader. I am…..I am….a mother and that makes me a superhero! I am the face of “I don’t feel that well but it’s nothing a little cup of theraflu can’t fix. I have things to do.” I am the home remedy specialist when it comes to taking care of myself. Besides if you know anything about me, you know I am the single mother of 5 kids and I have worked hard to be in the position I am in.

What if we teach our daughters and granddaughters that self sacrifice isn’t a requirement. What if we told that single mama that it’s ok for her to take an hour and go to Barnes and noble and get lost in a book. That, that one hour you are spending on yourself isn’t selfish it is needed. What if, we teach our warriors to truly listen to their body, before their body sits them down. These past 3 days not being able to really move and being in extreme pain, helped me to realize that everyone/everything needs time to rejuvenate. These past 3 days have taught me that I am not invincible and even Q the warrior has to rest. These past 3 days not being able to do the things I’m used to doing has taught me not to forget myself, while taking care of others.

It happened to me. I started running fever! Fever??? Did she say fever!!??? Yep I thought it….did I have covid? I mean I do have a few days left before my second vaccine. Could it have caught up to me? You know what I’m certain it’s a common virus instead. Let me go ahead and whip out this theraflu, get under these blankets and I’ll feel better in the morning! Until I didn’t, I didn’t feel better in the morning I felt worse. The following day I felt so bad it hurt to move. I went to the dr. the first thing tested me for was Covid which came back negative but I was hurting so bad they wanted to do an X-ray. When the dr came back to my room she said “Ms. Rowe how many days were you hurting before the fever kicked in?” I looked at her, to be honest I wasn’t sure. I remember my stomach feeling a bit uncomfortable but I have such a high tolerance for pain, and I’m constantly on the go that I didn’t think much of it. I looked at her for a moment longer hoping she’d just give up on the question give me what I needed to fix me and send me on my way but she didn’t. “Ms. Rowe, how long?” Well looks like she isn’t going to let me out of this question “Ma’am I honestly don’t know.” She paused before she spoke which let me know she was thinking carefully about her choice of words. “Ms. Rowe I don’t know if you fully understand what’s going on. You have diverticulitis, and right now you have an infection in your stomach that we may not be able to treat without hospitalizing you. This can get real serious if infection spreads though out your body. Extremely serious.” I looked at her and tears filled my eyes, partly because of the pain and partly because me the warrior was scared. She wanted to try a round of antibiotics 3 times a day for next 10 days but if my fever didn’t break and didn’t stay broke for 24 hours within the next 48 hours I was getting hospitalized. Today is my first day moving around and getting back to a somewhat normal. My fever has stayed broke for 48 hours and I’m taking my medicine like clock work.

So yes Queen you are a warrior! You are a superhero! You embody strength. But Queen just don’t forget to take time out for you from time to time. Even warriors have to rejuvenate. Listen to your body so that your body doesn’t have to sit you down.

When you think of strength who comes to mind first Wonder Woman, or Lois??? Definitely Wonder Woman. She powerful, she embodies strength. If Wonder Woman ever needed a BFF I would be her lady! Sign me up! Yup that’s me! Powerful, full of strength!!! I think my mother named me the wrong name 😂. But what if strength wasn’t always about the ability to be powerful, or push through, or keep going. What if strength is sometimes the ability to recognize when your body is saying….. “hey there it’s me!! I need you to slow down and take care of me. I’ am running on empty and I need to be filled up.” We have to normalize that kind of strength for our women.

My children are Black.

How do you tell your son….. I am so sorry but I don’t feel comfortable allowing you to go to a weekend summer camp with your church and friends out of state? Did the church do something wrong? No they did not. Did you hear bad reviews about the camp site? No I did not. Do you not believe in the teaching of the church? No it’s not that, I absolutely believe in the teachings of the church. In fact the message this Sunday when I attended was magnificent. Then why say no? Why say no, why say no when you always support your children’s passions? I said no, because I didn’t feel comfortable allowing him to attend and go to a camp site in another state. I said no because …..my son is black. I said no because in his group he would have been the only teenager of color. I said no, because daily it is hard to watch the news, or be on social media because of the injustice that seems to happen regularly to people of color. I said no because my 16 year old gentle giant is not only black, he is 6’2, dark skin, pure muscle, athletic football player and god forbid someone is intimidated by him.

Intimated by my son? the young man that reads his bible daily, that has strong faith, that studies his word, that loves Jesus. Intimated by my son? The gentle giant that everyone who knows him loves him, his teachers all rave about him, the young man that goes to church, plays football, and plays video games. Intimated by my son? Who is kind, well mannered, never gets into trouble, post more about Jesus on his social media pages than he does about anything else. Intimated by my son? The young man that does daily daily devotionals on is ig, the young man that truly wants to lead people to Christ and sees every one as a human being. How could anyone be intimated by a young man such as he? How could they….but what happens if a person that doesn’t know him….is intimated by him just because of his appearance. What then?

I can’t wrap my my mind around someone physically harming my son. However we see this more often than we should in the black community. This Sunday at church when I was speaking to the pastor and my son about him not being able to attend saying they words no broke my heart. The way my son looked at me when I told him he couldn’t go to church camp, was the same exact way he looked at me when he was 8 and I was explaining to him and his brothers how to conduct themselves if they are ever stopped by the police. That same look that pierced my soul when he was 8, pierced my soul now that he is 16.

I remember that conversation 8 years ago like it was yesterday when I was speaking to my 3 sons. I remember my youngest son asking me “mom, why are you telling us this? Why would the police stop me I’m only 8. I’m just a kid. It’s ok to put your hands in your pockets mom, that’s not a crime. Plus I don’t think a police officer would ever yell at a kid, that just isn’t nice.” Even as I am writing this I am crying. He always sees the good in people, he did at 8 the same way he does at 16. Even 8 years later that look of confusion, and hurt, never gets easier.

Dear son, I am sorry. I am sorry that some people may be intimated by you just because of the color of your skin. I am so sorry that we are still fighting for equality for all in 2021. I pray you know that I didn’t just say no to say no. I prayed about it, I thought about, it kept me up at night, I went back and forth with myself, ultimately there is just a huge part of me that didn’t feel comfortable. As your mother I will forever do my best to protect . you. Please don’t let this moment discourage you. Please know that there are so many more good, genuine people than there are bad. Please don’t lose faith in greatness of humanity. I pray for the day you are an adult, Inpray that when you have a family, that you never have to have these conversations with your children. I pray your children, my grandchildren can grow up where they aren’t judged because of the color of their skin. I pray that as we as humans are able to stand for what’s right, no matter how uncomfortable the conversations may be. I pray we humans can be the positive change we want to see in the world….I pray for the day a mother can tell her black son yes he can go to church camp out of state and feel great about her decision in doing so.

The Village

I know I’ve thanked individuals in the Village. However I’m not quite sure if the Village quite understands how important they are to me and how much I truly love them. When they say it takes a village to raise our children, there isn’t a truer statement out there. Lets talk about the Village. The members of the Village are for life. Though some have a longer tenure than other in my children’s life. All of them are valuable and irreplaceable. Being a single mother of 5 children without the village my accomplishments would have been unachievable.

I have been blessed with an amazing family, both on my side and my children sides. From grandparents, to aunts and uncles, to cousins that have always played an important role in my children lives. I have also been blessed with amazing neighbors that turned into friends, coaches, my childrens friends parents, etc that also a huge part of the Village. I can remember my neighbor across the street named Dickey that soon became one of my greatest friends. She kept me encouraged as I was working my way up the corporate ladder. Her youngest daughter and my two youngest children were best friends. More importantly we became a family . She looked out for my children and I looked out for hers. When my oldest daughter graduated high school, I had been blessed with a promotion and we had moved to another city. Guess who drove 2 hours to come to her graduation after not seeing her for 2 years….Dickey. The meaning of the Village.

I can’t count on my fingers and toes how many times parents have ensured my children have made it to sporting events or camps because I was working. Never asking for anything in return. They were satisfied with being bonus parents to my children. The meaning of the Village.

There was time I could”t afford Christmas for my children. 10 years ago I was working hard, but had yet to make it as far as I am now in my career. With 5 children I was working as an ASM making $38,500 dollars a year. No child support, that was my sole income. I remember going to the support office and applying for food stamps and they told me I made $70 too much. $70!!!!! I could have cried! I was working every day just to pay bills, and put food on the table (which would consist of chicken at night and ramen noodles for lunch.) I still remember that Christmas 10 years ago. I literally had about $150 to try to spread between 5 five children. I was sad, but I knew my children would understand. It didn’t matter rather you gave them a $1,000 or a pack of gum they would have thanked you and been just as elated for either. Christmas Eve I had gotten off work and was cooking dinner for my children when they said there was a truck in the driveway. I looked out my window and there was my store manager and his wife. Carrying to my door bags of presents and bags of grocery. I remember he told “Q you are the hardest working individual I know, don’t give up. All this hard work will pay off.” I was left beyond thankful and speechless. The meaning of the Village.

The Village. The Village is virtually important and at times goes unseen and not talked about, but the Village is vitally important. The Village is priceless. The Village is the meaning of love and loyalty. I type this blog as a huge thank you to our Village. If you have ever played a role in my children lives….You are apart of our Village and I want you to know. This parenting gig would have been impossible without you!

Is there a limit?

We are taught to sacrifice. There isn’t a limit. As a mom you should. As a wife you should. As a significant other you should. Because you’re in a certain tax bracket you should. Extend yourself you can. No that’s not enough keep stretching.

As a mom, wife, or significant other you have to learn to say no. You have to learn to make decisions that everyone may not understand but you understand. You have to pour back into yourself. There is nothing commendable about sacrificing your entire being and losing yourself.

Who were you before the world told you who you had to be? What did you like before reality slowing came in and stole your dreams? What did you envision your grown up life to be like…..before you actually became a grown up? Take a minute. I’m not in a rush. I want your raw, untarnished answer.

Then there’s that word sacrifice. Women seem to hear this word far more often than men. Sacrfice for your marriage. Sacrifice for your children. Sacrifice for your career. Or better yet…..you are sacrificing too much for your career and not enough for your family. You can not do that, ladies don’t do that. A woman shouldn’t speak like that. You’re too self sufficient you’re going to scare a man off . You’re too feminist women can’t do that. You are suppose to cater that is a woman’s genetic makeup. We are caretakers.

STOP 🛑 IT….PLEASE!!! I’m not too self sufficient that I do not desire a solid, loyal, partnership. I shouldn’t have to dim my light 💡 for anyone else to shine. Together we should shine because the sun never apologizes for blinding people. Yes being a mother, a wife, a significant other is important but, it doesn’t come at the price of sacrificing your very soul. Being a caretaker and sacrificing your entire being are two completely different things. Stop acting as if they are one in the same.

Learn to say NO. Learn to make decisions that everyone may not understand. It’s ok. You aren’t here to please the world. Help people when you can, but you don’t have to cater to people. The truth is people at times can make you feel guilty for your success. Those same people wouldn’t even help you at your lowest point in life, now all of a sudden they are subject matter experts on your finances. It is easy to feed a 1,000 but how much more rewarding is it to teach a 1,000 to feed themselves.

Mediate. Shut out the outside noise and learn to reinvest in yourself. Look in the mirror who do you see? That’s the only person you can control. Go on that trip. Go back to school. Take that leap. Invest in your dreams. IT IS NOT TO LATE! No one wins if you deplete every ounce of your being for everyone else. You can’t give water if your well has ran dry. Learn to replenish yourself without feeling guilty. You will thank yourself. Those you love will get the best version of you. And honestly (yep I started a sentence with and 🤪 I’ve come to the conclusion that’s my signature move) the world will thank you, because believe it or not darling. Once you begin to invest in yourself. This universe will force reality to give you back your stolen dreams. This universe needs your gifts…..we all do.

So yes. There is a limit. It’s ok to say no. Even elastic breaks when stretched to far for too long. Take a break darling…..it’s time to dream again. You deserve it:

Dating in my late 30s

Did you read the title? O.M.Fing.G!!! I probably should of titled it dating in my 40s seeing as the last chapter of my 30s ends in roughly 6 months. This has to be some of the roughest waters to navigate through . Then to add on top of it being a successful black female although you think that would be a plus…at times it can be a negative. I never knew success could be so intimating.

So here I am 39 and dating. You’d think dating men in my age pool that things would be simple. Holy hell they ARE NOT. What to wear on a first date, is there even a need to call it a first date???? You know what…. the hell with first dates. Let’s meet on a dating app and chat back and forth multiple times. It least that way we have the chance to even see if we are mildly compatible. I don’t want to do the awkward first date thing. Or maybe that’s the problem. Maybe awkward first dates are where it’s at……or not. I need a glass of wine 🍷 just writing this.

Then there’s the navigating through the land of broken hearts. See when you’re in your 30s the odds of you not having your heart broken a time or two, or three or twenty….well its slim to none. When you’re dating in your 30s the odds of meeting someone who hasn’t had their trust abused is slim to none. Those waters can be rough for both parties. Welcome to the dinner table of trying to read in between the lines. Welcome to the dinner table of indecisiveness. Welcome to the dinner table of trust has to be earned because it damn sure isn’t given. Welcome to the dinner table of “I never want to marry again.” Welcome to the dinner table of you remind me of my ex. Welcome the dinner table where bullshit is normal and honesty is rare. I don’t want to sit at this table……I hate it here 😂

Then there’s this age. I’m 39 I’m not old….but I’m also not in my naive 20s either. But uh yeah I could date your son or your daddy….it’s just a joke but I could. Now smile for goodness sakes. So there’s this age pool right, one where you would think men would know who they are and what they want. But I’m learning age doesn’t guarantee that. Humans have the right to find themselves at any age…..I just don’t want to go on every journey with them. I know women my age who are just as lost so don’t think for one second this is a blog bashing men because it very well so is NOT. But Geeze I have met more men in their 30s and 40s still trying to figure it out. So I’m quickly learning it’s not so much about dating in my same age pool in my 30s soon to be 40s as much as it is dating with men compatible with where I am in life. I’m not willing to have anymore children, I don’t club like I’m in my 20s, I’m not in a place where I want to navigate through grey areas. I like simple. Things are or they’re not…. Sounds easy enough, right? Wrong! Dating in my 30s seem to lack simplicity. Maybe I’m dating the wrong people? Maybe or maybe I’m not dating at all….or maybe I’m dating too much, or maybe I’m about to start dating or maybe I’m done dating…..Confusing…. right. Welcome to dating in my late 30s