The Comfort Zone: Why I'm Coming Back

The comfort zone is not only my favorite song by Vanessa Williams, but what this blog is for me. It is my safe space. A creative haven. The only place where for the past seven years, I have written like no one is watching.

I started this blog during the first semester of my senior year at Yale. Back then, I wasn't sure what I wanted to be. I just knew I wanted to be fabulous and in love. So I blogged about my daily struggles as a college student, the pitfalls of my love life, and budget beauty baubles and DIY tips I swore by. Honestly, I  can say, I was blogging about DIY beauty before it became popular. Now evvverybody is doing it! No shade.

I digress. Before  I knew it, I was on to something. My blog started picking up speed in 2008, but something happened. I graduated. And I started working as a television reporter. Working on-air is a unique occupation because your likeness and your public opinions aren't really your own. You represent the call letters your recite every time you sign off. And so, out of fear of revealing to much, and a desire to focus on my career, I stopped posting. Almost.

In 2010, I was still working in tv when I felt a familiar itch. Really, I needed an escape. I'd fallen for an elusive figure that I call *Miles. Miles was everything I ever wanted in a man, and in retrospect, he represented everything I wanted for myself. He was good looking, successful, smart, and well-off. He was young with a high profile job as head of company he'd built from the ground up. I admired his independence, his cocksure attitude, and the way it seemed that everyone wanted a piece of him.

Maybe that's why I fell so hard. Deep down, I wanted to  be just like him.

Nonetheless, I think Miles sensed my inner restlessness. I think he caught the glimmer of utter fascination  in my eyes whenever I looked at him. I couldn't hide it. After the first date I was hooked. And over the course of two years, every time he disappeared without explanation, I didn't give up. I resigned, with foolish hope, that one day he'd complete me.

You know how the story ends. I figured out how to complete myself.

But nonetheless, during that time, and every other major romantic or professional hurdle, I wrote myself through it on this site. No holds barred. Yes, an alias, or several, but for some reason, I've always been able to be honest on this blog. It is home for me.

And for that reason,  I am coming back home. I don't know how this will pan out. I am trying to complete a fiction (inspired by Miles, go figure) and my career is all types of crazy (more on that in the future). Plus, I try to update my official site regularly. Nevertheless, I will be making it a point to return with more heartfelt stories, observations, DIY tips, and commentary that pertains to Black women. I hope you will rejoin me for this adventure and provide feedback too.

Also expect to sneak peeks from my upcoming work of fiction. I'm super excited about that.

When you don't know where to go, let your heart lead the way.

Flyness and funk,

Stream of Conscious Holiday Manifesto… Reflections on A Quarter Century

* A writing ritual I do at each year's end. Personal, cathartic-- and for some reason I feature it on my blog. Feel free to skip. Or better yet, try it yourself.

 It is the final day of my twenty-fifth year and what a fleeting year this has been been. Twenty-Five passed in such a flurry, I want to do it again. So I will. Tomorrow, on my birthday, I will be celebrating 25. Again. After all, they always say you’re only 25 once... and I never do what they always say.



This year has felt like a turbulent flight and right now I’m idle on the runway trying to figure out where to take off to next. I tried new things like belly dancing and ballroom. I got serious about my book. I believe it is my big idea--- you know, the aha-moment of a lifetime. I moved on from heartbreak and began reaping the benefits of being a Siren (in the making). With a quater-century down, and a powerful loss in the recent path, I began to see how important it is to live like there's no tomorrow.



I began 2011 in Jacksonville, Florida where I was in the third year of a contract with a television news station. What can I say about my experience as a local news reporter except I learned a lot about TV, about myself, and you couldn’t pay me enough money to move down there and do it again. When the opportunity arose for me to re-sign a new contract for another three years as an over-worked, under-paid (and appreciated) TV journalist I said, “No, thank you.”. It’s funny how I was so certain about what I didn’t want even though I had no idea what I did want. The truth is I had no back-up plan and that was on purpose. I have wanted to be a media personality since I was 14 years old. It never dawned on me that I’d despise my first television gig.
But maybe that was paying dues…
It has been a month since I’ve moved back home and I can honestly say I have no regrets. I do not miss working in Florida one bit. I’ve been waiting for the morning when I’d rise and feel like heading to the studio at the butt-crack of dawn, but… that hasn’t happened yet. I’m proud of myself for going after my dream, landing an on-air position right out of school, and moving to a new state where I didn’t know a soul. That gave me some chops. But your twenties are about figuring out what you do want out of life just as much as they are about figuring out what you don’t want. What I didn’t want was to be far away from my family. What I didn’t want was to continue turning mindless stories whose sole purpose was to take up two minutes of air space.
I do want to matter.
I’ve always wanted to matter and in fact, now that I am back at home, getting reacquainted with New Jersey winter, I know that the next move I make has to put me some place where I am making a difference in someone’s life and using my brain. Perhaps I was making a difference as a Black woman on TV in Medium-City, South. My fans often referred to me as a positive role model, but after three years, that wasn’t enough. I'm using this time to re-evaluate.
In your twenties (and twenty-five just happens to be the ultimate metanym for "your twenties") the greatest obstacle isn’t figuring out what you want to do with your life, but overcoming your innate fear of being your best self. I've come to learn that the hardest part isn’t completing the journey. Sometimes it's taking the first step. As I see it, most humans have a deep-rooted fear of inadequacy. I realize that now as my big idea--- the book serves as a gross reminder of the thin line between the life of your dreams and what could have been.



It’s several days after Christmas but it really didn’t feel much like Christmas at all. Still, my soul is merry. I am at home, finally, surrounded by people I love. What my 25-year old person will know this time around is that it is okay to re-prioritize your life. Right now, I love how simple life is, even if this state is only temporary. I love being with my family, hugging my parents each day, and lying in my bed until the sun wakes me up. The daily glamour is gone. I am sans weave and a full face of make-up. In fact, I spend most days in jeans . And yet, in my natural state, I merely feel as if I am back stage, preparing, for the performance of my life.

Thursday's Thought: On Bridges

On Bridges: This past week I covered a couple that married on top of a bridge. They were childhood sweethearts who reunited, on Facebook, twenty-five years later. For me, their story gives new meaning to the phrase "bridge over troubled water". The bride said in her interview, "I was in love but he didn't know what love was back then." She of course during their time apart married, had children, and later divorced. The groom didn't do any of those things, but he matured, and came to realize the one that got away was in fact the love of his life. He moved across the country to be with her just ten days after they reconnected on Facebook. Indeed love can act as a bridge between; forging a bond that withstands struggle, distance, and most impressively time. On the contrary, we have to consider the consequences of burning a bridge, for what happens when you attempt to cross a burned bridge? You drown.

THURSDAY THOUGHT: ON 'DESERTED ISLANDS'

On 'Deserted Islands': Recently I broke bread with a very wealthy car-dealership owner with some very pointed views about the 'haves' and the 'have-nots'. He himself was a self-made millionaire. He said, " You will always have rich and poor. Give five rich people and five poor people a million dollars, and leave them on a deserted island. Within a year, the poor people will have given all their money to the rich." That stuck with me. Most of us spend our lives working to build wealth for a group of shareholders, our own worth determined by some arbitrary person. And then, we spend our money, once again, creating wealth for others. How many of us create wealth for ourselves? By saving, investing, or even becoming entrepreneurs? Perhaps if we all focused on ways we do that, we'd lead richer lives, both figuratively and literally.

-Ike