Making Waves

“Aren’t you worried about being alone?” “What about safety?” “What do you need a space for?” “You don’t need that…” Isn’t it wild how different people are quick to project their concerns, disapproval, and fears your way about decisions you’re making for your own life? Especially when you’re doing things that may not fit what they think you should be doing? Such can be the journey for many single women, but the refreshing thing is, bachelorettes can make decisions about how they want to live life and ignore outside opinions. The traditional path of young women living with their parents until they’re fully financially stable, or because of marriage or having children is no longer the normal path for some. Some women have roommates, others are living with their partners, some are building homes while raising their children alone, and even more are starting over after a breakup or unexpected life change, boldly branching out, building and establishing their special spaces, pla

Not only is Sunday the start of a new week, but it’s also the sabbath – a term used by many religious communities as a day of  rest.  Ever since I was a little girl, going to church with my family was a routine thing and something I continue to enjoy to this day. These days, weekend brunch has been added into the mix along with a side of self-care. While self-care is not reserved for Sundays alone, it’s actually not a bad day to make a thing of it. I’ve found it’s an amazing way to prepare for your week. You need this in your life, and if you haven’t been partaking in self-care, check out some of my recommendations below: ·        Brunch ·        Face masks (I highly recommend manuka honey masks. They’re good for the skin.) ·        Naps ·        Uninterrupted family time ·        Fellowship ·        Unplugging  ·        A nice workout  ·        A nice meal (we covered this with brunch, right?) ·        Cozying up with a good book or magazine or both ·        G

I don’t have a lot of black girlfriends. I never have. And it’s not because I haven’t wanted them. I have. I’ve tried, hit and miss, and facilitated some casual connections, but not without weathering some complications and misunderstandings. If you follow my work, you may have read a piece I wrote for Thought Catalog, titled,  I Need More Black Friends,  which highlights some of my plights, but something that’s recently been weighing on me is the disconnect amongst different groups of black women. I’ve repeatedly run into other black women, in the workplace, in public settings, and even at family events, who’ve often thrown some direct and indirect shade my way, and in the direction of other women, they don’t know much about, greeting them with nasty attitudes, exclusion, aggression, jealousy, and hatred. I’ve personally had other black women, who barely know me, make snap judgments about who they  th ink I am as opposed to who I really am. The division amongst some in my own commu

Not everything needs to be remembered or kept in our archive of keepsakes. Honestly, there are some memories I would prefer to forget. For several years, I’ve kept journals. Some that even dated back to when I was seventeen and weathering the ups and downs that come with being a young woman and an emotionally immature teenager who got upset about things like my crushes showing zero interest in me, a bad grade on a test, not fitting in with different peers I wanted acceptance from, highs and lows with friends, working my first few jobs, and my parents making me pay my own cell phone bill -- mind you, this was before smartphones and pricey data plans were a “thing.” I had a Motorola Razr flip phone that probably cost no more than $30 a month to pay. I also had a part-time job making good money, so there’s that. No wonder older generations think some of us millennials are  entitled.  Moving on… As a writer, journaling was once a big thing for me. It was a commitment that allowe