Working from home can seem like to a dream to some people. The dream is magnified in the eyes of those who work jobs that they don’t necessarily feel fulfilled in. For me, I love working from home, but I would be lying if I didn’t admit that there are days where I feel incredibly lonely and depressed. On the days where I don’t have a zoom call or I don’t talk to a colleague, I end the day thinking damn, if I didn’t talk to my mom every day I may go days without actually opening my mouth.

I try to do things to stay active and engaged outside of my home. I go to the gym 3-4 days a week, I try to have dinner with a friend every other week or so but the truth of the matter is that no matter how much I try, depression and loneliness finds me. I thought about joining a club or working from my local library. I even sometimes work from the beach especially in the summer. Those things get me out of the house, but it does little to combat the loneliness.

There is something to be said about working in an office. Sharing a break room, having a small conversation about current events, giving a few bucks to the designated lunch taker and heading to happy hour after work are things that I believe can help boost morale. Those are things that I think are sometimes taken for granted. On occasion, I wish my job was hybrid so that I could experience those things from time to time.

I do travel for my job about 3-4 times per year. But it can be frustrating explaining to upper management that the reason you want to go on a particular trip isn’t always because of some great location. For me, it allows me to have in person conversations with coworkers, and clients. Do I enjoy traveling? Of course! However, there is something to be said about seeing people that you always interact with via zoom, in person. I want to be able to engage with people. I want to be afforded the opportunity to break bread with my coworkers. It helps my mental health and yanks me out of a depressive state.

Some may say, maybe go to therapy. I’m not against that. As a matter of fact, I’m all for it. But I think people are supposed to be around other people. We’re supposed to engage with others. We’re supposed to feed off of one another’s ideas. We’re supposed to lean on one another. We’re supposed to validate others and feel validated.
Zoom, Teams, FaceTime and other video chatting platforms are great. But, allowing them to take the place of in person interactions can be dangerous. My goal going forward is to seek out alternative methods of interacting with others. That may be finding a co working space. We’ll see. One thing is for sure, getting my thoughts from my head to the computer helps a ton. I’ll keep you all posted. Feel free to drop a comment or suggestion :-)

​In 2016, I was living in the smallest room in the basement of my family home. This was the home I grew up in and the room that was mine when I was a child. I slept on a futon that I made as comfortable as possible by padding it with comforters. The room wasn’t big enough for a queen-sized bed and furniture. Sometimes, I would stare out of the window that was just up over the ground and wonder how I got here. I was a year out from being fired from a job I hated and an industry that just didn’t suit me well. To make ends meet, I worked three part time jobs and drove a car that perpetually had the engine light on because of a faulty catalytic converter that I didn’t have enough money to replace.
 
Back then, I struggled financially but suffered silently trying to be a martyr. I didn’t want to ask my mom for money because she had her own responsibilities and asking my dad seemed like a stupid useless thing to do. I lived for going out to eat with my friends because it got me out of the house. The problem was that eating out was expensive and so I continuously racked up my credit card. I didn’t want to share with anyone just how horrible I was feeling, living and doing.
 
To ease the stress, I would go to the casino. Big mistake. I grew deeper into debt and let's be real, they always got more money from me than what they gave to me. But, sitting in silence on a machine aimlessly pressing a button while daydreaming about what could be, is what made me feel better. There were times where I would book a room there just so that I could sleep on a real bed. 2016 was a rough year. I honestly didn’t think it would get better.
 
During this time, I still believed in prayer, but I just felt like God wasn’t hearing mine. My mother would always say be specific in your prayers and I tried that. She would say you’re on Gods timeline not the other way around. I believed her, but I still hated what my life had become. I was a single, childless (didn’t have a cat haha) lady with no ambition. As the years dragged on, nothing changed in me or around me. I didn’t feel sad, or angry or ambivalent I just accepted that we all have a path in life and that path was  mine.
 
I was wrong.
 
In 2020, 4 years later I felt a shift. I had just accepted a part time job at the company my mom worked for, that would entail me traveling. I was excited, for upcoming trips to Chicago, Copenhagen, Malaysia and Amsterdam. Then Covid hit. It was all pulled away and I no longer had that job because travel was halted indefinitely. It was a rough year, but I for some reason felt optimism. I was doing a podcast with my best friend; I was traveling to visit my mom in NC more and I was focusing on maintaining my personal peace. I wasn’t sure what my future held but I knew I couldn’t continue to live the way I was living.
 
In the summer of 2021, I was finally officially hired by that company part time work. This allowed me to quit one of my jobs. The company ultimately made me full time so I could quit another and within a year I was promoted to Director. I moved out of the family home, purchased a new car, paid off one credit card (still aiming for debt free), and began to refocus my goals. My student loans were forgiven which helped sooo damn much!! I realized how much I loved traveling, and the job allowed me the opportunity to do that. I work remotely which is great because I enjoy being by myself. But I also recognize I don’t need to be a hermit and so I kept one of my part time jobs just so that I would be forced out of the house to see and speak to people. Life for me in 2024 is pretty good. Could it be better? Yes. Am I waiting for the shoe to drop? Yes. Do I still struggle with finances? Yes. Do I still like to gamble? Yes. Am I better off in 2024 than I was in 2016? YES!! Life is about ups and downs and I understand that on so many levels. I’m just grateful that when I was down, I had my family to give me a place to lay my head. Grateful that my mom always told me she was proud of me when I was incapable of being proud of myself. Grateful that my faith in God remained an integral part of my life. You never know where life is going to lead you, but one thing I've learned is that I don't want to go back to how it was. Forward, with one foot in front of the other is the only way....

Growing up I always had friends but I never felt I could be my true authentic self. I was always hiding something whether it was the extent of my disease, what was going on at home or my good ole insecurity. It wasn't until I was in high school that I started to really understand what real friendship was. I met friends who allowed me to be me. And then I went to college and had to start all over again. I found that instead of being myself I tried to fit in and be someone I wasn't. It manifested itself into a disservice to the everyone including myself. So, I experienced a friendship drought for years after. In 1998 I got my mojo back and ever since I've come to appreciate, value, love and respect the friendships I've made.

Today's post in honor of Women's History Month is dedicated to all of the girlfriends I've had from childhood to adulthood. I dug up worms in the dirt and smoked a cigarette with Tracy and Bridgette. I walked down the path towards freedom hand in hand with Sherry, Darcie and Karen. I gained my independence with the help of Queen and Gab. I understood what it meant to become a responsible woman navigating adulthood because of Marisa, Missy and Melanie. It was Genna, Dina and Janine who gave me a shoulder to lean on when I was trying to come out of the darkness. My friends! Some I rocked with for a moment, others stayed for a lifetime and all I appreciate good or bad immensely. I'm so thankful for them and i'm looking forward to what the future holds in my world of friendships....Happy Women's History Month.

Side note...my cousins Natisha and Yolanda are also pictured. I consider them sisters, cousins and friends rolled up in one. I'll write about those two knuckleheads in a separate post :-)

This week, for Women's History Month I want to recognize my former boss Johannah Ruddy. As a black woman I've always felt like I wasn't appreciated for the job I did at my various places of employment. Working in retail I watched as time and again subpar workers (they have called themselves that too) were promoted to management positions over me. When I made it over to the corporate world, I noticed my bosses providing opportunities to others and relegating me to situations where I would ultimately fail no matter how hard I tried. I would complain to family and friends but never give up. 

Then I met Johannah. Not only did Johannah see something in me that others hadn't she set me up to succeed. She provided me with an opportunity to grow with the company, to showcase my skill sets and to use my voice. Johannah allowed me to see parts of the world I never thought I would and ensured I did it without having to worry about thinking I wasn't worthy. When she started her own business she utilized my skill set then too to help her. I don't know that she truly understands how much I appreciate her picking me up off of the floor when I felt dunked on. If you have someone in your life like that cherish it. I'm going to be 50 in a week and in all of those years and all of the bosses/supervisors I've had she's the only one that truly saw my worth and ensured others recognized it. Thank you Johannah!!

So I know Women's History Month is about recognizing the accomplishments of women in the U.S. But, I've always been a bit unconventional and so this month on every Friday, I will recognize a woman I personally know and share a little bit about what she means to me and why i'm recognizing her.

​First up of course has to be my mother. 
Debra Elaine Wideman is the most resilient woman I know. She is strong willed and determined. She is compassionate and loving. She is caring and giving. She is passionate about her faith and has dedicated her live to serving God. 

Growing up, I didn't really appreciate my mother for who she was. I didn't understand the choices she made. It wasn't until years later after several open and honest conversations that I realized that surviving was the most powerful trait she knew how to grasp. My mom in the midst of trauma was able to succeed in business, raise her daughter as a single mom, remain committed to her church and focus whatever energy she had left trying to keep her head above water emotionally, mentally and financially. I didn't see it then but damn, my mom was amazing and remains so today. From constantly having to pay for all of my medical bills, dealing with an abusive partner and trying to manage the pressures of a demanding job, it boggles my mind to know that she didn't falter, cave and succumb to the evils that many unfortunately do.

Sitting on the other side of those days bring me so much joy. Traveling with my mom, working at the same company as my mom, talking to my mom everyday, and just having a true friendship with my mom is something I never imagined. She is an all star, the epitome of greatness and I feel so incredibly blessed to be able to say she's my mom. 

So on this first Friday of Women's History month i'm choosing to recognize Debra Elaine Wideman, a former VP at Citibank and the VIP of my life. 

​I was diagnosed as perimenopausal more than 10 years ago. Let me just say it sucked then and continues to suck. I’ve been on medication that balances my hormones and ensures that my bone density doesn't rapidly deteriorate but that comes with side effects that affect me in more ways than one. From extreme sadness, hot flashes, headaches, inconsistent menstrual flows, brain fogginess, low libido, cramps, weight gain  and weariness I have experienced it all and more and sometimes at the same damn time.
 
As I’m writing this I’m crying. Why?? I don’t know, my hormones be like that sometimes. I was in the middle of responding to a work email and had to close my computer because I grew so sad and had the woe is me moment. In a span of five minutes, I felt sorry for myself. Why can’t I have kids? Why am I unlucky in love? Why can’t my friends hang when I ask? Why am I in debt? What is my purpose? I’m a hot mess haha. But this is what being perimenopausal has done to me.
 
Women go through so much and are always tasked with having to stand strong. We are asked to be strong for everyone to keep our heads up and to keep fighting for the “greater good”. The ramifications of following that mantra can be a heavy load to bare for us all but even more so for those women that don’t have the mental fortitude to withstand it all. Sometimes, I feel I don’t have it and it’s exacerbated even more by my perimenopausal symptoms. It’s crazy, I haven’t written for my blog in nearly 3 years and yet here I am typing away because I had an emotional breakdown over a thought.
 
Anyway, my doctor says that once I turn 50, I can come off of the medication. From there I will be in menopause…oh joy a possible 14 more years of this crap. God protect me.

The events over the last week have opened the eyes of many. However, for black people much of what is happening isn’t a new scene. When I see people say they don’t see color, then I immediately know they don’t see me. When you say you don’t see color you’re saying you don’t see my struggle. When you say you don’t see color you’re saying you don’t see my pain. When you say you don’t see color you’re saying you don’t see racism.
 
Most white people don’t even realize that they’re biased and or inherently racist. You see racism isn’t only about victimizing people because of the color of their skin. Racism isn’t only about not calling black people nigger. Racism isn’t only about discriminating against someone because of the color of their skin. Most people don’t do this. But they do turn a blind eye.
 
For my white readers today, I have ten questions for you:

1. How many true black friends do you have?
2. How many black friends do your children have?
3. Has a black person ever entered your home?
4. If you’ve ever been tasked with hiring a black person did you seek qualifications outside of the listed recommendations that you didn’t apply to white applicants? Ie (education, experience, location)
5. When at work, do you go out of your way to have a real conversation with your black coworkers?
6. When you see a group of black teenagers hanging out, do you cross the street, clutch your bag or get nervous?
7. While watching the news what thoughts are running through your head as it pertains to the black protesters?
8. Was the death of George Floyd shocking to you and if so why?
9. What did you think of the death of Tamir Rice?
10. What do you think about the racial makeup currently existing in your neighborhood and schools?

 
My point is that in order to change how you view others it takes you stepping outside of yourself and trying to get to truly know black people. I once had a coworker tell me she had lots of black friends. Those friends were me and another coworker. I had never been to this woman’s home. I had never met anyone in her family. I had never gone out to eat with her and I never had a conversation with her. I only knew her as someone I shuffled paperwork to. But ok, we friends…. You can’t say you understand when you never try to get to know people who don’t look like you.
 
The number of examples, and scenarios that I can lay out to explain how easy it is to be racially biased and to be a contributing factor to racism is insurmountable. To truly want to be different takes effort. Watching the news, posting an MLK quote, saying “it’s sad” or just being silent isn’t putting in the work. The next time you decide to have people over at your house for a pool party or a barbecue ask yourself why am I inviting these particular friends or coworkers and not those? The next time your kids have a playdate, ask yourself am I doing enough to diversify their friend group? The next time you go out for a drink with the girls ask yourself why them? The next time you call me your friend, ask yourself what makes us friends?

​My mind is exploding with words.
My mind is exploding with thoughts.
The wetness on my cheekbones will dry eventually.
I have to get the words out.
 
My mind is exploding with words.
My mind is exploding with thoughts.
I read things on twitter, see things on tv and hear things from others.
I have to get the words out.
 
My mind is exploding with words.
My mind is exploding with thoughts.
CNN, MSNBC, ABC, FOX NEWS and all of the rest are airing.
I have to get the words out.
 
My mind is exploding with words.
My mind is exploding with thoughts.
The NYT, Washington Post, BuzzFeed and Huffington Post are reporting.
I have to get the words out.
 
My mind is exploding with words.
My mind is exploding with thoughts.
Friends are posting pictures of their pools, their dogs and their meals.
I have to get the words out.
 
My mind is exploding with words.
My mind is exploding with thoughts.
Friends are posting conspiracy theories, MLK quotes and hashtags.
I have to get the words out.
 
My mind is exploding with words.
My mind is exploding with thoughts.
I don’t know what to say but,
I have to get the words out.
 
WHY ARE WE LIKE THIS?
 

As long as I can remember black lives haven’t been desired but the black way has. From the style of our dress, taste in our music, movement of our hips and our resilience mixed with fearlessness we are fascinating beings. Our way has always been reinterpreted by other races. Oftentimes, without them even realizing it. From musicians like Little Richard, designers like Dapper Dan, dancers like Katherine Dunham and every damn protester of the civil rights movement what we do and how we do it many times leads to the popular way of doing things. But there seems to be more to that, that I never noticed until I saw these riots over the past couple of days.

We are a people whose message is being co-opted and rebranded for something it was never intended to be. As I watched CNN being vandalized last night, I saw a white man using his skateboard to smash the window. Yes, black people were the perpetrators of violence too but seeing white people destroy and deface businesses, police cars and buildings pissed me off. In that moment I knew these people were not there for the cause. These people were not there to see justice served and stand in solidarity alongside black people. No, these people were there to co-opt a message.

Today I turned on my tv and saw a crowd made up of a majority of white people screaming “fuck the cops”, “black lives matter”, “no justice, no peace”. I saw some white people smashing the windows of cop cars, throwing up their middle finger, being told by black people to please stop. But they weren’t trying to stop because they had a plan and it had nothing to do with George Floyd. The plan was to rebrand the protest and turn it into a movement far from what was intended. The news media is seeing this and I see them on air trying to make sense of what they’re seeing. Trying to create a narrative for what they are witnessing. They expected the acts but they didn’t expect the race.

The government leadership in Minnesota stated that not one of the persons arrested were from that state. Think about that. Not one person. These people have co-opted the message of Justice for George Floyd. These people have co-opted the message of Black Lives Matter. These people have co-opted the message of No Justice, No Peace. These people are not thinking about the ramifications of what their violent behavior will have on black people when all is said and done. No, they mean us no good. Many may not even realize what they are doing and are instead followers. There are white supremacist sites on social media instructing people to go to these cities to incite, disrupt, loot and co-opt. There are ignorant black people rioting alongside them, clueless to what the outcome will mean. 

If you're reading this and your thought is anger or annoyance at the fact that I am speaking about white people doing wrong....get over it. This is not a "good people and bad people on both sides" post. 

My grandfather died this morning. Never in a million years did I think it would be at the hands of Covid-19. I mean really?! It's not like I can sit up here and wax poetic about how great of man he was. I mean I didn't really have much of a relationship with him. Jimmy was a man I know loved me but who I loved in the "I Love Everyone" kind of way. Still, in the story of his life I cannot imagine that he or anyone for that matter would have suspected that the "Corona Virus" would be the one thing he couldn't outlive.

It's weird because sitting here thinking about him and the moments we shared i'm reminded of my childhood. Growing up, I saw him as a drunk who spent his days hanging out at the bar Boozers (named after the NY JETS player). Jimmy was the kind of drunk that would show up at my house sloppily professing his love and asking for a hug. I recall once balling up like a baby in the corner because I was scared of him. I'm sure his intentions were good, but in my young mind he was the boogey man....grandfather or not. 

As the years went by, I began to acquiesce a bit and would visit him from time to time when I was in his neck of the woods. By this time, his jaw was removed and his words were quite difficult to decipher. I would sit with him and pretend I understood what he was saying, all the time counting down the minutes until it was an acceptable time to announce I had to go. He was always loving and appreciative of my visits. I on the other hand would try my hardest to muster up some semblance of warmth when in reality all i felt was a wave of distance. This man, whose DNA I shared was my grandfather but it felt like in name only as much as I "tried". 

During the latter years of his life, my mom who didn't really have a relationship with him, began to make more of an effort. I know she and I shared similar feelings as it pertained to him but at the same time he was her father, my grandfather our family. So, during those times where she would visit NY I would occasionally go with her to see him. He was always super happy and excited to see us. There was so much said and unsaid in those visits yet and still he was just a man who happened to be my grandfather. It didn't help that I would sometimes harbor resentment towards him because he was the only living grandparent I had left. Why had my others passed away having not succumbed to alcohol, drugs or abandonment yet here he sat swinging his leg living life? The truth of the matter, as I would come to understand was that he wasn't living life, he was existing in this life. 

Something tells me that my grandfather James Taylor had the same expectations many young people have. Who signs up for a life of living hard? Who signs up for a life where they have no relationship with most of their kids? Who signs up for a life that ends in the grips of Corona? Shit is wild. I suppose, in time I will find myself wishing I had asked more questions of him. Maybe as the days go by I will learn to appreciate him for who he was? Who knows maybe things will one day make sense. All I can say in this moment, at this time on the day of his passing is Rest In Peace James Taylor...Rest In Peace!