When I was younger, I dreamed I would be a big-time business woman (entrepreneur). My parents bought me a “My First Corporate Executive” set from the JcPenney Christmas catalog, and I would play with my briefcase, Rolodex, checkbook, planner, business cards, cell phone, and literally imagine myself walking into a tall building downtown wearing a suit, my auntie’s red pumps, and carrying a briefcase. I would sketch out my wedding dress and research bridal shops confident I would be fiance’d by 26 (latest), married by 28, and pop out some natural hair mini me’s by 30. I would sit next to my zaaaddddyyy in church snatched by the gawds worshipping in harmony. I would live in a beautiful home and have all the married, Christian sex ALL. DOGGON’. DAY.
When I talk to some of my other millennial peers, their stories are not as dramatic, but similar nonetheless. After sharing dreams, there is often a long sigh and regret filled silence. We are forced to lighten the mood mouthing off some motivational “keep ya head up” jargon that we don’t believe while failure is the residue left in the room.
What I’ve concluded from this repetitive experience is that in this social media game we call life, we are BOMB marketers AND some BOMB pretenders. So bomb that we have made others and maybe even ourselves believe, we don’t or aren’t supposed to or aren’t allowed to have bad days, we don’t cry, we don’t hurt, we don’t have insecurities, we don’t struggle, we got all the scriptures, all the faith, and our eyebrows and edges are always poppin…and if you have or share any of those things, you gets no likes, shorty.
Well, let me be honest so that you don’t have to feel alone or afraid. Don’t let these daily shucks and jives and “girl you look good won’t you back that ___ up” filtered selfies fool you, even with God, THIS. LIFE. AIN’T. NO. JOKE. I cried like a crybaby wanch Monday, sometimes I feel like I’m drowning, I don’t always know what I’m doing, my selfies be raggedy (often), I need to get my ends clipped badly, my ish stinks, and my bank account has made even Jesus weep (again)…but I AM NOT A FAILURE, and NEITHER ARE YOU.
On the longest status known to man, on this first day of Women’s History Month, I want to leave you with this:
- Stop beating yourself up over your timeline; throw it in the trash. You will be where you need to be, when you need to be there.
- Stop pressuring yourself to live up to your own lofty expectations; do your best from day to day unapologetically.
- Stop comparing; focus on yourself! You don’t know what the sam another person is going through behind that “I just launched my…” status.
- Celebrate, don’t minimize, your small victories. You went to the gym. TWERK. You finished a paragraph in your business plan. TWERK. You started. TWERK. You FINISHED. TWERK THE HARDEST.
- If you get tired, rest. Don’t QUIT! You got this.
- Focus on the lessons in each step of the journey. You will find that each point was something you needed to know for your destiny/purpose.
- YOU. ARE. POPPIN. YOU. ARE. FLEEKY. Jesus said so. PERIOD.