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 … 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… 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…’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

Beautiful utter complete chaos

That title. That is the realm of parenting I have entered. It’s such a fine line in loving your children, but not spoiling them so much that they never develop tough skin. Such a fine line in giving constructive criticism, yet not ruining their self confidence. A fine line in being their parent and their friend. Oh shit did I just say friend? I did. I remember my parents telling me as I was growing up that they are my parent and not my friend. I try to tell my children I’m their parent 1st and their friend 2nd. Seeing as all my kids are now all adults or teenagers I’ve learned in this realm of parenting you do have to be their friend also.

But this realm of parenting is hard as hell. I remember when the five of them were little and their dad and I separated I would think to myself “I can’t wait for them to grow up.” Now I wish I could rewind time and know what I know now. How many things I’d do differently. How many moments I would cherish. Father Time however doesn’t have a rewind button just a play button. So here we are on this episode of me trying to split myself in a million directions that I didn’t know I needed to be in. Todays episode of “oh shit that was today?” Today’s episode of “Why did you wait til the last minute to tell me.” Today’s episode of “it’ll have to be take out tonight.” Today’s episode of “here’s money for that.” Today’s episode of “why do I have to ask you to do your chores?” Today’s episode of “let me go back to the store.”

This realm is beautiful. Watching them grow up, and become who they are meant to be. This realm is saddening watching them make mistakes that could change the course of their life. This realm is chaotic trying to help them make their dreams a reality. This realm is heartbreaking, going through hell with one child, while trying to help another attain their dream, while helping another child find them self, while celebrating the success of another. This realm is rewarding watching one child find their way and start making their own path. This realm requires me to be someone different for all of them, because they all are in different stages of their life. The realm is Beautiful Utter Complete Chaos.

This is the realm no one speaks about. This is the realm they forget to tell you about when you have more than one child. Who knew you could morph into so many different personalities depending on what child you are dealing with. Who knew you could cry tears of sadness for one child, while crying tears of joy for the next. Who knew you could be a therapist, a coach, a doctor, a chef all in one damn day. This realm is rewarding, this realm is hard, this realm is teaching me more lessons than I ever thought I could learn and this realm has proven to me that no matter what, I am have been and will always be their mother. This realm proves that love truly conquers all.


Dear Brown skin girl. This world is going to teach you to be elastic. The demands of this life are gong to stretch you longer, further than you could ever imagine.

Congratulations you’re a mother. Welcome to the moment you will learn to become elastic.

12 years ago. Year 2008

“How can I make this $40 dollars stretch into 5 days worth of food? I’m working non stop, I’m trying not give up, it seems at times as though I’m fighting a losing battle.” Be elastic.

“Why is she working this hard and she’s still struggling? She just needs to move back to Kansas. Did you hear she’s barely making it? I heard that she’s paying such and such for rent trying to keep her kids in a good school district….I know there are cheaper houses somewhere else. I don’t even think she’s ever taken her kids or herself on a real vacation. She’s just always writing about things, living in a fantasy world.” Be elastic.

“I wonder if they know I have goals. I wonder if they realize that for fun I drive around amazing neighborhoods with my kids and we look at houses with the hopes of living in something that nice one day. One day I’m going to be able to travel and show my kids the world. I know I will. In the mean time I’m going to continue to write about things as though I’ve experienced them. Putting my dreams on paper will one day become a reality.” Be elastic

“So yeah, I know that I’m living in a home in a neighborhood that I can barely afford, but my kids schooling means the world to me. I have to put them in a position to succeed. Even if it means ramen, bologna, and chicken. Having a good education is priceless. One day though one day I know all this hard work will pay off. So they can talk about me now, it’s ok.” Be elastic

2016-2020 present.

Wow you’ve had how many promotions the last 8 years? Pretty outstanding.

“Thank you God, it’s 2016 and I’m starting to see the fruits of my labor. It’s been a long journey, but professionally I’m starting to arrive. I’m still working hard but I’m making more money than I ever have. I’m able to do the things on my bucket list with my children. Those neighborhoods I use to drive through with my children looking at all the beautiful homes…we live in them now. The vacations I use to write about but never experienced we are able to experience them now.” Be elastic

“Hey self it’s me again.” “How are you holding up?” “Not very well.” “Yeah I figured weren’t but you can’t let the world know. You have a lot of people depending on you, and some that would love to see you fail. You’ve come to far to give up now.” Be elastic

“Did you hear about her son? I heard this on the news, I read this on Facebook. I wonder what she has to say about it? I know she has to be going crazy, I would be. She hasn’t said much about it on social media. Did you see she’s on yet another vacation? Oh I think she just brought a new car? She got another promotion and she’s moving her kids yet again. Wow you’ve got to be kidding me.” “Still he ant seen her post much on social media about her son. How can she be so positive? It has to be a front. I mean come on I know she’s going through hell. Why hasn’t she posted about it on social media?” Be elastic

“Mom I have private training. Mom I have a game. Mom you haven’t spent much time with your granddaughter. Mom you haven’t spent much time with me. Mom don’t forget this time. Mom did you forget? I told you a week ago. To retain me we are going to need xxxxxx money down to take this case. You have it right? Of course you do. Mom I thought you were off? You are working on your off days again? Hey mom I need to go such and such. ” BE ELASTIC

“Hey self it’s me again.” “Yeah I know I’ve been waiting on you.” “Self, I’m so humble for my life. I’m so thankful for the opportunities I have and the opportunities I’m able to extend to others. But self I’m still only one person.” “Dear Brown skin girl I knew this day would come and I would have to remind you to BE ELASTIC. I would have to remind you to bend and not break. To stretch and not break. To form, reform and form again because in this world, in this life you will have to reshape a 1,000 times and a 1,000 times again. You are going to evolve over and over and over again. Every realm of this life will require a new you. But one thing I forgot to tell you. Elasticity also needs a break. Don’t forget to recharge. Take a moment out for yourself. It’s not being selfish it’s being human. Also cancel out the noise. They talked about you 12 years ago, and they’ll talk about you now. I’ve never seen opinions pay one of your bills. So let em talk. You are greater than anything designed to defeat you. Remember that when the nights are long and the days are short.” This is your love letter.

To be continued.

I fell off… truth is I leaped off! Story of fitness gone wrong!

Well shit! Here I am!! The girl 3 years ago that had lost a ton of weight, was succeeding in her career, killing it in the gym and winning! My body was LEGIT!!! I was taking so many selfies #fitmom LOOK OUT WORLD HERE I AM!!!! No smoothies, no lose weight quick schemes, just pure hard work and a unquenchable grind.

Then things started to happen. Things that I never thought I’d have to experience. I’ve forever worn many hats but my first priority the reason for everything was and will always be my children. So when something happen and my son was put in a situation that I couldn’t just “get him out of” I started to unravel. On the outside it looked like I was handling things like a champ. But (yep I’m becoming a pro at starting sentences off with the word but 😊) I wasn’t handling things like a champ at times I’m still not. My world was rocked 2 years ago and I’m still trying to find my way through the smoke and be the rock I know my child needs. 2 years ago I begin to let a lot of stuff go. Somethings intentionally, some unintentional. Hell to be honest I barely realized that some things were slipping through the cracks until they were gone.

Working out was one of them. It started with missing a few days a week, to missing weeks, to missing months, that turned into just not going at all. Out of the 80 pounds I lost I’ve put 75 of them back on. Talk about feeling like a failure! How is it even possible to gain back damn near every pound you fought to lose….simple. Eating my feelings, working a ton, going from cooking regularly to cooking only on Sundays. Take out became my new norm. I put all my energy into my children, and my career. I left out my health. Did I mention I gained back 75 of the 80 pounds I lost? Oh I did. I can’t believe I even put that in words. Damn Q! It feels even more real now typing it than it had thinking it.

Shit happens. Life happens. Some curve balls cause us to strike out. But here’s the secret if you get the chance to bat again….knock that shit out of the park. So here I am, back up to the plate. I’ve been in the gym for a week now. I wasn’t going to write anything or post anything. I was going to start dropping weight and then pop up on the scene all fine and ish…..but where is the honesty in that? I don’t want to follow the masses. I want to be the reality. The person that says hey I was doing great and then guess what??? I wasn’t anymore. But I’m back again because I refuse to give up. I started Dec. 28th 2019 and I have one goal to become healthy again. It’s not about the weight, it never has been. I rarely weighed myself back then, and I will rarely weigh myself now. It’s about the feeling, the energy. It’s about sweating out the endorphins and sleeping again at night. It’s about ridding myself of the anexity that has found a way to creep back into my life and keep me up most nights causing my body to run off fumes. So here I am…what does it look like to start working out again? Well it’s not pretty (my selfie taking skills definitely don’t help with this pic) but it does feel pretty fucking awesome!

How are you surviving?

My dear friend of so many years one of the few people that know me inside and out. One of the few that know the storm I’ve been fighting for the past few years asked me a question that floored me. Left me speechless caused me to think.

I usually get asked “how do you do it?” That five word question I’m use to and I can answer without thinking. I’ve rehearsed and acted out that answer so many times I can do it in one breath. “How do I do it?” It’s simple “I just do. For me there is no other choice. And failing is not an option.” “How do I do it?” That five word question almost 99.9 percent of the time is asking, how do I make it as a single mom with a full time career and still have hair on my head.

But “how are you surviving?” Completely different question and seeing as she knows me….my typical answer I knew wouldn’t suffice. How am I surviving? When one of my off springs are fighting the biggest battle to date in their life. Which consequently means I’m fighting the biggest battle to date in my life. It doesn’t matter how old our children get they are forever our children and we are forever their parents. But…..back to the question. A question I have NEVER been asked and one I never knew I’d dread being asked until she asked it.

So… am I surviving? Some days I’m just numb I feel nothing. Other days I’m so alive, full of vigor, humbleness, energy. Sometimes I’m angry, no not angry pissed! How could my child be going through this? I’ve worked hard, provided for them and still do, sacrificed for them, kept them in the best school districts even though years ago ensuring they lived in a good school district and went to the best schools had me living pay check to pay check. Back then I was barely able to put on the table, but I never gave up. I knew my hard work would pay off one day. I sacrificed so that hopefully they wouldn’t have to. I sacrificed because I wanted and want to always give them the best opportunity possible. I’ve never done drugs, I’ve never spent necessity money on partying, everything in my life from the second I became a mother became about my children. When you do this as a parent your children are suppose to grow up and make great decisions, and live a life far more grand than you ever have. It least that’s what I was told….So yes knowing my child is fighting a battle that I can’t bail him out of makes me angry at times. Knowing that my child is fighting for his life over something he did not do pisses me off. Other times. Other times I’m just sad. Sometimes I just sit in my bedroom and cry, and pray and cry some more. This child of mine has went through all the hard times. He has went through the ramen noodles for lunch and chicken every night for dinner because it’s all I could afford back then. And he, he never complained. I remember he told me one day “mama you work hard and things are going to get better for us. I know they are you just have to believe it.” He is that child to me. My other children may miss it but not him, he has always been intuitive to my emotions. Doesn’t matter how hard I would try to put on a brave face he could see through it, if I was having a bad day and he would do everything in his power to console me. You were right son. The hard work payed off in such a great way! The financial struggles have disappeared but not having you here is taking us all through an emotional war I know we weren’t prepared to fight, but we are fighting it and we are all going to get through with the victory. You will make it through this with the victory.

How am I surviving? Some days I don’t know. Some days are harder than others. As I write this on my back patio drinking a cup of coffee, I look at the flowers falling off my tree in my yard. I wonder if the tree is in pain, but I’d have to guess not. The tree I’m certain knows it’s fall and it has to shed so that it may grow new flowers in the spring. How fitting is that for life, sometimes it’s our season to shed. Sometimes it’s our season to walk through a storm and blessings all at the same time. But just like the tree survives and produces new fruit when it’s it’s time….so shall we. I survive because I know storms don’t last always. There is always a sliver lining in every situation if you look hard enough, your faith is stronger than any battle and is the strongest armor of weaponry you have. Use it it will never fail you. How do I survive? I try to feel every emotion, but at the same time not let every emotion consume me. I come to terms with things and then do everything in power to make the outcome favorable. How am I surviving? I know I’m blessed beyond measure, I was built to bend and not break, and honestly I survive because I have family and friends that love me and my children immensely and that is priceless.

So How am I surviving? Just like the tree there is a season for everything. My mind is conditioned to go through the storms because the root of my heart and soul are endless.