NOW…Another Chapter

There was hardly a day that went by in my home without my siblings and I hearing my father, the late, great Howard Lakins, Sr., say “NOW….another chapter.” When I was younger, I thought that he just said this phrase a lot so that he could test the volume on his hearing aids. Now, as an adult I realize that he repeated this mantra often to remind himself and those around him to let go of the past and keep moving forward.

As a chronic overthinker and a recovering perfectionist, Lord knows I get caught up on some chapters in my life that God has closed the book on a LONG time ago. I tend to get especially nitpicky about past chapters of my life at the end of the year. I start thinking about all the things I haven’t accomplished, all the chances I should have taken, and all the things I should have said. I get so mired in critiquing and re-editing the previous year’s chapters that I forget that there are new chapters and new books that are yet to be written. Before I know it, my mind is swimming in doubt, regret, and fear. But, just before I completely lose myself in the process over critiquing myself, God reminds me to take a deep breath, and in that moment I can hear my Daddy saying, “NOW…another chapter.”

Friends, we can choose to flip to the next chapter of our lives at any moment. We don’t have to keep reliving a bad relationship, a boss from hell, or those days when life didn’t go our way. Yes, there are some things that we coulda, shoulda, and woulda done better, but it’s time for us to move on. What good is it for us to get stuck on Chapter 9 from 1972 when God is trying to move our lives into a brand new book or even a brand new library? How long will we keep a bookmark on that dark page that God’s grace and forgiveness has already covered? NOW is the time for another chapter.

One of my absolute favorite passages of scripture is Philippians 3: 13-14, which states,

Brethren, I count not myself to have apprehended: but this one thing I do,
forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before, I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus.

I just LOVE this scripture because it reminds me to shut the book on yesterday’s chapter and keep pressing towards those greater goals and dreams that God has for me.

As we come to the end of another year, set aside some time during this holiday season to take a reflective and constructive look inside your book for 2009. Pat yourself on the back for a job well done, celebrate your victories, and think about alternatives for cussing out fewer people out in 2010 or whatever gnarly habits you need to break in the New Year. But, remember as you go through your book don’t get hung up on your chapters. This chapter called 2009 will be over before we know it. NOW is the only moment we have to do better, be better, and love better. NOW is the only chance we have to co-create our lives with our ULTIMATE creator. NOW is the only time that matters. NOW is the time…for another chapter!

May your holidays be filled with pages of love, laughter, friends, family, good food, good conversation, and more joy than your heart can contain.

Love, Actually

I had the wonderful opportunity to spend this past Saturday afternoon with four of my favorite people in the world—my big sisters. We had a wonderful day of caring and sharing over brunch, despite the fact that a few of my breakfast potatoes were undercooked and I forgot to buy hot sauce (Sorry, Wanda!). The gem of the day for me was our RICH discussion about love and relationships.

I realized that I have been TERRIFIED about relationships because I have been viewing them through the lenses of way too many romantic comedies, my inability to let my guard down, and my fears about divorce and infidelity (Thanks, Tiger!). I’ve also recognized that I have been tightly attached to my own Cinderella fantasies about when, where, and how I will meet my Prince Charming. My current fantasy of choice is to meet a well-dressed, well-educated Black man at my local Barnes & Noble on a spring afternoon in the African American Studies aisle. We will instantly bond over our love of Maya Angelou, Toni Morrison, and our disdain for people who don’t know how to use the English language properly. Pretty outrageous, eh? But I have shut down MANY a guy for not meeting up to these and other impossible ideals that I have held about love. I’m grateful to my sisters for helping me to open up my eyes to how I have been dealing with men.

I almost died when my sister Wanda said, “Leah, you can’t expect to look at a guy across the way at a restaurant and say ‘Oh, I just love the way that he cuts his steak’ and expect to fall instantly in love with him.” She totally blew my Barnes & Noble fantasy to pieces. I began to see during our discussion that great love takes time to develop and LOTS of work to sustain. It doesn’t just magically spawn and develop overnight. Love isn’t just flowers, cards, and candy; it’s also arguments, compromise, tears, and frustration. Love isn’t just what happens at the end of a Julia Roberts movie. Love is hanging in there during cancer, the loss of a child, unemployment, and disappointment. If a person is the ONE or the one for this season in your life, love isn’t really love until you experience ALL parts of it, the good, the bad, and the ugly. This realization helped me see that it was time to get off the relationship bench of fear and get into the game of love.

And of course, no relationship discussion is complete without the topic du jour -- the ill-fated Tiger Woods. Being a relationship novice, I CANNOT wrap my head around why in the hell he decided to cheat on his wife with 10 different women.* However, my sister Diane made a good point when she explained that no one goes into a relationship or marriage thinking that he or she will cheat on their spouse or expecting other life-altering relationship challenges. It is up to each person to keep the relationship going strong, make each day fresh, and stay committed to the union when life shows up and turns your world upside down.

So, at almost 3:00 a.m. on a school night, I now see that love is actually more than my bookstore fantasy. Love is about letting go of my impossible yardstick for perfection and being willing to allow men to come into my life and be who they are, without me judging their ability to use the King’s English perfectly. Love is about being willing to let my heart get scratched and cracked (just a little bit!). Love isn’t just about looking for a core shaker; love is about discovering that great lover and friend who will be with you when life shakes you to the core.

*This number of women identified as former mistresses of Tiger Woods is based on Google News reports as of 2:35 a.m. This blogger is not responsible for any additional waitresses, hotel attendants, or pole dancers who come forth after this blog entry is published.

A "Precious" Conundrum

Like many of you, I had been dying to see the new film “Precious” for weeks. After all of the glowing praise and promotional spots on TV and the web, I was eager to experience this movie for myself. I finally saw the film this past Saturday and I am STILL shaken by its emotional intensity. I will probably NEVER see this film again in my life (it was WAY too much for me!); however, I applaud director Lee Daniels’s courage to create such a gripping film that sheds a light on the realities of domestic abuse. As those graphic images from the film replayed in my head on Saturday night and disturbed my slumber, I woke up on Sunday morning grateful that I had seen the movie because it made me realize how blessed I am to have a family that truly loves and supports me. But, at the same time, it also left me with a million questions about how we can help the young girls and women who are living this nightmare every day.

For most of my childhood, I was raised by my sisters Diane and Donna. These women made some HUGE sacrifices for me to be the woman that I am today. Trust me, I was no walk in the park, especially during my moody teenage years. After seeing “Precious” it made me realize just how blessed I was to have them supporting me and my dreams. Because Diane and Donna always kept a roof over my head and food on our table, I had the luxury of stressing about mundane teenage woes such as trying to get a boyfriend, boosting my popularity, and earning passing grades in my dreaded math classes. I cannot even begin to fathom what it would have been like to spend my teenage years experiencing the kind of abuse that Precious endured.

While I this film helped me to put my own life in perspective, I now have a “Precious” conundrum. This movie made me wonder about and ache for the young girls and women for who “Precious” is not a film, but their reality. Most of us saw this film and were able to go back to our comfortable and safe lives. But what about the girls and women that are in real domestic danger? How do we help them? How do we prevent abuse like this from even beginning? Sometimes I hate watching films and documentaries like this because they leave me with more questions than answers. I have no doubt that this film will sweep up many accolades during award season (MoNique was absolutely INCREDIBLE in this movie. She truly scared the SH— out of me!). However, after the hype from this movie has died, how do we use this spotlight on domestic abuse for a greater purpose? How can we keep the “Precious” girls in our communities from becoming another statistic?

There’s No Job Too Small

“If a man is called to be a street sweeper, he should sweep streets even as Michelangelo painted, or Beethoven composed music, or Shakespeare wrote poetry. He should sweep streets so well that all the hosts of heaven and earth will pause to say, here lived a great street sweeper who did his job well.

- Martin Luther King, Jr.

Over the past three years, I have come to greatly appreciate the maintenance staff at my apartment complex. These men are the most dedicated professionals that I have ever seen.

Tonight, I came home to discover that my toilet, which has been running non-stop for the past two days, was still running after two previous maintenance calls. After dinner, I made yet another call to the after-hours maintenance answering service and within 20 minutes another maintenance guy came to look into my leaky toilet. He came right into my bathroom and without a second thought he took the top off of my toilet and immediately plunged his bare hands into my toilet to further investigate the problem. Being the uber girly girl that I am, I was grossed out by the sight of this guy sticking his hands in sewer water and fiddling with toilet parts. When I got over my gagging moment, I was humbled by the fact that this man honored his job enough to answer my after-hours page, stop whatever he was doing, and make his way to my apartment to solve my problem. I’m assuming that at 8:30 at night he was probably kicking back with his family or maybe about to crack open a cool can of beer before Monday Night Football. But, instead he was up to his elbows in my toilet water. Even though my toilet still isn’t working properly (Argh!), I profusely thanked him for coming to my apartment. There certainly isn’t much glamor and prestige in the maintenance field, but these seemingly small and thankless tasks that these men do make a huge difference in the comfort that I have in my home.

After the maintenance guy left, I began thinking about the opening quote from Martin Luther King, Jr. I realize that there is great honor in doing every job well and with excellence. Even in my day job as a book editor where cynicism flows more readily than praise, I have to remember that every little thing that I do for my authors is valuable, whether I receive a compliment or not. If I don’t show up and do my part, the world will not have the benefit of my meticulous editing skills, my special jokes, and my laugh that has been known to light up a room. Obviously, I’m being a little braggadocios here, but we all have to remember that who we and every little thing what we do MATTERS to somebody.

We all can’t be Oprah, Bill Gates, Steve Jobs, or President Obama. Somebody has to deliver the mail, remove the trash, teach the kids, and maintain the roads. While these jobs aren’t particularly sexy or noteworthy, there is no job too small or inconsequential when it is done well and with honor.

While I pray that my professional path will not involve me getting elbow-deep in toilet water any time soon, I am so honored and inspired this man who attended to my toilet with such fervor and care that I am dedicating this day to working as hard and as passionately as he does.

Let every little thing that you do today light up the world around you!

The Joy of Being An Auntie

As I was holding my newest nephew, Joshua, last week, I was reminded of one of the great gifts that I have had by being part of a large family – the joy of being an auntie.

I can still remember the first time I held my oldest nephew, Clifton (Tank), when I was just 7 years old. I timidly asked my sister Wanda to hold him and when she put him in my arms, I was so mesmerized by his tiny fingers and toes. At age 23, he can now hold me (LOL!) and I’m so proud of the incredible young man that he is becoming.

Being the cool auntie to my nieces and nephews is great because I get to be the fun adult that they can share with and relate to. It’s also wonderful for me because I can be a vicarious parent and send them back home to my siblings when they start to get on my nerves! I have so many amazing memories with all of them, some of my favorites include

• Watching Tank and Chris during one summer and having to beat one of them with a plastic bat. I was unsuccessful because one of them (I think it was Chris) slid under their bed

• Babysitting my oldest niece Karin for the first time and since she didn’t poop, I left an overflowing pee-pee filled diaper on her for SEVEN hours! Rinn, I’m sorry for that diaper rash!

Taking joy in the fact that one of Karin’s first words was “Eeah”

• Babysitting my nephew Tyler and trying to figure out why he would not stop crying. I turned him over and discovered that he had poop going all the way up his back! After that, we were good. This little bugger is now 7 years old and takes great pride in kicking my butt in Dance Dance Revolution.

• My ABSOLUTE favorite memory is Tank and Chris’s excitement when the ice cream truck would arrive in our neighborhood. They could not pronounce the syllable “tr” when they were toddlers and they would replace the “tr” with the “f” sound. So, every time they heard the chimes of the ice cream truck, one of them would say, “Mommy, Daddy, here comes the ice cream f---. Made me laugh EVERY time.

With nieces and nephews ranging from 23 to 3 weeks old, it’s just awesome to see how these little people in my life are blooming and to take pride in the fact that Aunt Leah’s love had a little something to do with how wonderful they are becoming.

I look at my littlest nephews Thomas Jr. and Joshua and I can’t wait to have as much fun with them as I did with Tank and Chris. Hopefully, I will get a little bit more respect from them than I did with Tank and Chris, but I can’t ask for too much, right?

Thank you Tank, Chris, Karin, Emmanuel, Kezia, Tyler, Thomas Jr., Taylor, and Joshua for filling my life with so much joy. Being your aunt is one of the best gifts that I could ever have. I am so proud of each and every one of you and I am just bursting with excitement to see how great all of you are going to be.

Forever Young

My cruise getaway to Bermuda was just too fabulous to put into words. But the absolute highlight of my trip was the conversation that I had with Mr. Joe during the Midnight Buffet.

By the third day of my cruise, I was super relaxed and feeling fine. All of the trivial things that I was stressing and worrying about before my trip were floating far, far away on the Atlantic Ocean. That evening, the ship’s magnificent cooks and servers had laid out the most spectacular spread for the Midnight Buffet. I make no exaggeration when I tell you that the spread was at least four feet long. I was actually kinda ticked that I ate dinner on the late shift and was still full by the time the buffet began. I stuffed down what few morsels my overstuffed tummy could hold, ordered a slamming Pina Colada, and joined the rest of my ship mates in dancing to the Electric Slide, Booty Call, and the Cupid Shuffle. It had been far too long since I had had that much fun. I was in heaven.

An hour later and a half later, my belly and my feet told me that it was time to call it a night. As I got ready to return to my cabin, I ran into one of my dinner partners, Mr. Joe. Mr. Joe is a 68-year-old retired computer programmer from D.C. He had me howling at dinner with his beautiful spirit and his delightful tales. While I was preparing to go meet the Sandman, Mr. Joe told me that he and his crew were just revving up and were going to do a little bit more dancing at the ship’s disco room. As I began gathering my things, Mr. Joe invited me to join him dancing. I politely refused and told him that I was tired.

Mr. Joe got a real serious face and took me to the side and said, “Leah, baby, how old are you?”

I said, “I’m 30, sir.”

He looked at me disapprovingly and said, “Now, let me tell you this. You start doing old folks things, you gonna start being old. Now c’mon up here with me to this disco and enjoy yourself.”

Before I knew it, I had joined Mr. Joe at the disco and we had fun dancing to R. Kelly’s “Love Slide.” After that, I was really tired, and I bid good night to Mr. Joe and his comrades. I discovered the next day that he and his crew shut the disco down at 2:30!

Out of all the wonderful people I met on the ship, my conversation with Mr. Joe at the Midnight Buffet has stayed with me because I realize that I want to be as fun, lighthearted, and energetic as he is as I get older. To paraphrase the classic phrase, “Getting older is mandatory, growing older is optional.” I’m not looking forward to creaky knees, reading glasses, and Ben Gay. But, I am looking forward to being wiser and more thoughtful and living my life even more fully than I do now. I was inspired by folks like Mr. Joe who could still party till 2:30 in the morning. I don’t think that shutting down a dance floor will ever be my calling (LOL!), but I look forward to being one of those fantastic older divas who still has life and vitality and can rock a pair of fabulous heels well into my 60s and 70s.

Thank you, Mr. Joe, for inspiring me to be forever young.

The Art of Piddling

Greeting from my favorite place on earth -- my couch. Yes, friends it is Vacation Day #3 and the living is easy. I had a whole list of things to get into today, but I decided that I just wanted to sit here and perfect the fine art of piddling. What is piddling? Taking time to do absolutely positively nothing and love every moment of it.

I used to feel SO guilty when my friends and family teased me about my marathon piddling sessions. It's nothing for me to watch TV for six or seven hours, soak in the tub for two hours, and sleep for at least 10 hours on a Saturday morning. As my life has become fuller and richer with new friends and awesome opportunities over the last few months, it's been a little harder to get in my piddling time. I also recognize that it's no small feat to get up every day and work, combat office politics, be present for friends and family, and manage to keep it all together. So, when I am blessed to have a stretch of a few hours to sit back and relax, I get my piddling on.

Pidding is refreshing, reviving, and necessary. I realize that I am speaking from the vantage point of being a single gal without the responsiblities of a relationship or children at this point in my life. But piddling time isn't just for single folks; it's even more crucial for those of you who are married with childen. Kick your hubby out of the house for an hour or two and make sure he takes the kids with him. Call up your single girlfriend and ask her to watch your kids for a few hours (Note: To my girlfriends with kids, not this week, tho. LOL!). We all MUST make sure we are taking the time to refresh our spirits by vegging out, having long phone calls with good friends, reading a good book in one sitting, or just sitting in our favorite chair and just being grateful for life.

Yes, you all can feel free to make fun of me on the 25th when my vacation is over. But for now, it's me, a bag of Pirate's Booty, a liter of Diet Dr. Pepper, and 20 hours of worth of my favorite shows on my DVR. Let the piddling commence!

P.S., Are you one of those folks who doesn't know what to do with your free time? Pick up The Art of Doing Nothing by Veronique Vienne. This is a great book full of great ideas for a day of piddling.

10 Years of of Happy Nappiness!

This month, I am celebrating 10 glorious years of my happy, beautiful, nappy hair. It took me a LONG time to find peace with my hair and to find styles and products that make my hair look and feel marvelous. However, my natural hair journey did not begin so smoothly. It actually began with a few...OK who I am I kidding, a LOT of tears.

I had worn a perm for almost 14 years, beginning with my first perm at age 7. My sisters Karen and Wanda spent many a Saturday laying down my roots and curling and frying my hair to perfection. However, their hard labor was often in vain due to my super thick hair resisting all perms known to mankind. It was like my hair looked at me and said, "Oh, you wanna be straight? Sike!" Me and perms never got along. Between the scabbing, itching, and my hair's inability to have that elusive white-girl hair bounce, I was done.

During the summer of '99, I attended at natural hair care work shop at Sibanye Bookstore in Baltimore. This was right around the time when Erykah Badu was uber popular and she and a few other famous women were making it cool to go natural. I began my natural journey by embarking upon the slow process of wearing two-strand twists that merged my natural hair and my processed hair together. The eventual goal would be that the permed hair would be cut off every four to six weeks until it was completely grown out. Anybody who has gone through this process knows that it is HARD to manage two COMPLETELY different hair textures. I couldn't wait any longer so....I decided to cut all of my hair off.

The day I cut my hair off, I was SO nervous. My stomach was rolling with fear. When I got to the salon to do the official cutting, I just closed my eyes and waited for the hairstylist to finish. When she was done, she and the other stylists raved about how great I looked. When she handed me the mirror, I was just shocked. My hair had never been so short. I was speechless. I went home and I cried. Hard. (If you need a REALLY good laugh, just ask my brother Thomas to recall how I ran upstairs to my room that night and immediately covered my head). After the initial shock, I grew to love the low maintenance of my natural hair. I loved that my head did not have to sting from harsh chemicals and that I did not have to fear the rain ruining my hair. I learned how to care for my hair in a way that is fun, creative, and liberating for me.

Ten years later, I am still in love with my natural, beautiful, nappy hair. I look forward to spending my Sunday nights puting my hair in my signature two-strand twists or releasing my twists and wearing my favorite super curly Afro or twisting my hair in flat braids or just putting on a head wrap and calling it a day. I've received more compliments in the last 10 years than I had in the previous 14 years when I permed my hair. I believe that those compliments are a natural extension of the love that I have for my hair.

As women of color, I know that we fight tooth and nail about how to wear our hair and all the politics that come along with it. I fully recognize and acknowledge that I am blessed to have come of age in a time when it is more acceptable to wear natural hair. I believe that every woman has the right to do what is best for her. As I write this blog today, I am currently wearing my hair pressed out. It's beautiful and wonderful that as women of color we can have so much versatility with our hair. I occassionally make jokes with my girlfriends who have perms and tell them that they need to say away from "the white man's box of poison." But, it's all in fun. I say that we should all find what works for us, whether it is a perm, weave, dreadlocks, or an Afro, and rock those styles that make us feel and be beautiful.

I'm including a few of my photos from my natural hair journey (Good Lord, my hair has come a LONG way!). I also list a few of my current favorite products. Enjoy!

My Hair Journey

• Left: Me (in the lime green sweater) with my TWA (Tiny Weeny Afro) - January 2000
• Center: One of my first sets of two-strand twists during college - March 2001
• Right: My Auburn Wanna Be Mary J. Blige Afro - November 2001 (Seriously, nobody loved me enough to tell me how wack that shirt was?)

• Left: My signature two-strand twists - New Year's Eve 2007
• Center: My favorite curly Afro - October 2007 ( I just love when I come into work the first day after I untwist my hair and, it NEVER fails that one of my white co-workers will say, "Your hair is so different today. What did you do to it?" Still makes me laugh EVERY time!)
• Right: Flat twists with a Afro puff - April 2006 (I just love the classic "Home Alone" expression from my co-worker's kid. Had to leave her in the picture!)

My Current Favorite Products

• Carol's Daughter Black Vanilla Leave-In Conditioner (I spray my hair with this right before I begin twisting my hair)
• Carol's Daughter Mimosa Hair Honey (LOVE this stuff! Great for setting twists and giving incredible shine)
• Nexxus Humectress Shampoo and Conditioner

I Fly Above!

Every week, I swear that I will not watch another episode of The Real Housewives of Atlanta. Then, about 30 minutes later, I give in and find myself hopelessly entertained by these insane women with WAY too much time on their hands. I've convinced myself that watching the show does make me feel better about my drama-free episodes of A Real Single Gal from Alexandria, VA. After watching catfight upon catfight, I was quite surprised to find a spiritual nugget in last week's episode.

I spent about a day and half last week trying to figure out how to form a better relationship with a team of my colleagues. I looked at this group from every possible angle. After giving myself a near aneyursm, I just gave up in a fit of frustation. Then, I went home and watched last week's episode of The Housewives and I was captivated by Kandi's new song "I Fly Above." I really loved the lyrics of the song which said

I'm so comfortable in the skin I'm in

I'm secure about who I am

So you can go ahead and talk all you wanna

I built up a shell and it's hard and it's armored

I fly above all the drama, I fly above, I fly above

It's beneath me, it's beneath me, it's beneath me

When I woke up the next day with that song still ringing in my spirit, I knew that it was the answer to my dilemna. That particular group of folks was not worth me getting down in the weeds and wasting my precious energy. Instead, I can choose to fly above that drama and give myself permission to just let people be who they are and not try to change them or change myself for them. How liberating!

Before you waste this beautiful, God-given day worrying about anything, pray about everything! Let God give you the wings to fly above whatever challenges you are facing today.

The Wonder of Fall

I just LOVE this stretch of the year between late September and Christmas. The weather is just right, the apples are fresh and crisp, the leaves are brilliant shades of red, orange, yellow, and gold, and all feels right with the world. I love covering my neck with beautiful scarves, eating pumpkin bread, drinking apple cider, wearing my favorite boots, and using the word "autumnal" a lot.

I like setting aside some time in early fall to see what I've done in the past nine months and to re-evaluate where I want to be by the end of the year. So far in 2009, I'm proud that I my blog is up and running (Yay Me!); I restored some great relationships with friends and family; and I'm glad that I am taking the time to lay a good spiritual and emotional foundation for my 30s.

I'm looking forward to meeting my goal of walking 100 miles by the end of the year (only 75 miles to go!), meeting the newest member of the Lakins clan (hang in there, Kisha!), and ending this year stronger, wiser, and better than I was before.

I hope that all of you will take a little time to look at where you are now and where you want to be. I find that taking a moment to reflect on my journey helps me to be a little less hard on myself and grateful for every little blessing that I am honored to receive. Hope your fall season is off to a good start!

It’s Not What They Call You….It’s What You Answer To

I was dying the other day after reading Jozen Cummings’s blog post on Essence.com titled “The Truth About Jump Offs.” While I was equally amused and outraged by his four points on optimizing a relationship with a woman strictly for “recreational purposes,” I was more entertained by the 100+ comments from irate readers who called this dude everything but a child of God. Many of the women expressed their outrage and felt degraded for being referred to as just that “side chick.” As I read comment after comment, each one angrier than the last, I remembered a classic piece of advice that I learned in grade school – “It’s not what they call you…it’s what you answer to.”

While I take pride in being a modern, 21st century woman, I’m very old fashioned when it comes to dating and relationships. The only names I will respond to in relation to a significant other are “girlfriend,” “fiancé,” or “wife.” Any man who even THINKS about referring to me or treating me as a “jump off,” “boo,” “wifey,” or “shawty,” should definitely think again. And, “baby mama?” Ain’t no way in hell I will be giving birth to anyone’s child without a marriage license and a rock solid commitment to God and me. But, these are just my standards, and I hold no judgments against anyone who chooses otherwise. Every person has their emotional and spiritual capabilities, and I know for me that accepting anything other than absolute and total respect from a man will have me in jail or a in an insane asylum.

At the end of the day, each woman has to decide what she will or will not accept from a man. If a man refers to you or treats you like a “jump off” or a “side piece,” it’s up to you to decide if you will answer that call. Don’t get mad if someone calls you outside of your name if you are allowing the actions or behaviors to occur. As women, I believe that each one of us has the responsibilities to set, and here’s the key, STICK TO our own standards. No man will have the power to disrespect you unless you allow him to.

Remember, it’s not what he calls you…it’s what you answer to.

P.S., If you need a good afternoon pick-me-up, Jozen’s blog “Until I Get Married” is HILARIOUS. Warning: It is equally offensive and entertaining. For me, he includes great information about what women should NOT do in relationships.

The Grown-Up Optimist

Anyone who knows me pretty well can testify to my natural inclination to see the good in everyone, find the bright spot in a tough situation, and smile in the face of some pretty dire circumstances. Lately, it seems as though all my optimistic powers are falling flat. My favorite Bible verses, inspirational quotes, and songs are still ringing in my head, but they don’t seem to be charging me up and fueling me the way that they used to. I’ve spent the past few weeks in deep introspection (or as I like to call it “being alone in my head without adult supervision”) and I still couldn’t quite put my finger on what’s been nagging me. After spinning my head through my emotional blender for the umpteenth time, I began to recognize that I have allowed my emotions to run the show. I was desperately looking for anything that would give me my next hit of happiness and joy. As I took a step back from my feelings, I started to see that my optimism needed to grow up.

Although my chronological age is 30, some days I act like a 5-year-old little girl. I am happy when things were going well, but I stomp, kick, and scream when things and especially people don’t go my way. I started to see that, like most little kids, I was a slave to my feelings. My optimism was totally dependent on if I really felt like things would go my way, on my time schedule. As an adult, I know that life doesn’t work like that, but the little kid inside of me was screaming, “WHY NOT?” When I sat 5-year-old Leah on a timeout, I started to understand that my feelings are a very fickle thing to put my faith in. Shoot, if I only did things when I felt like doing them, I’d never do icky grown-up stuff like going to the dentist, visiting the OB/GYN, or trying something new. I began to see that grown-up optimism isn’t based on what I feel but what I KNOW.

I know beyond a doubt that God loves me; I know that He always provides a way for me; and I know that He has always sent incredible people to support and anchor me throughout my life. With all of this wonderful knowledge and a lifelong track record of seeing God’s incredible blessings upon my life, I recognize that my feelings are irrelevant. I have to remember and KNOW that ALL things are working together for my good. So, the question is, Will I continue to put my faith and hope in Him even if I can’t feel it? I sincerely believe that as I begin to say “Yes” more and more to that question, my optimism will grow up and my childish ways of thinking will begin to fade.

So, I know that in this season of uncertainty, my optimism isn’t always going to feel like rainbows and sunshine. I have to know that truly God is working everything out for my good. I’m learning that grown-up optimists don’t always feel good but they have faith and know that the good seeds that they have planted will reap a harvest in just the right way at just the right time.

This Glass of Haterade is for You!

I've never been very fond of the whole "hater/hateration/haterade" lingo that has come about over the past few years. My occupation as an editor and my adopted bougieness as an adult have prevented me from fully adopting these terms into my vocabulary. But lately "haterade" is the only suitable term that I can use to describe a string of folks who are just determined to rain on my parade. So, without further ado, I'm going to let LaQuisha (my beloved alter ego) take over the rest of this blog post.

So, listen up and listen closely. I am no longer going to tolerate ANY foolishness from the following folks:

• Chronic complainers,
• Dream killers,
• Sarcastic jerks, and
• Just plain old ignorant folks

If you don't have anything nice to say to me, keep it moving. If you don't have any dreams of your own but are determined to step all over mine, you can exit stage left. If you are comfortable being stagnate and resigned about your current life situation, my ears are no longer a listening station for your concerns. My life is too valuable to be weighed down by you and your stanky attitude. If you don't like it, too bad. Take your cloud of doom and gloom to somebody who cares, which by the way does not include me.

So, today, I am serving tall glasses of haterade to all you haters. Don't worry if you finish it all in one sitting because once God gets through with me, you'll be drinking my haterade by the gallon. I used to get really pissed when you haters showed up, but now I know that you are critical and even necessary for my success. I believe that David said in Psalms 23 that you would become my footstool. Actually, I need to say "Thank you" for bringing me down to my knees so that God can lift me up even higher.

So, you have been warned. If Leah suddenly disappears and I show up, you know that you have activated the Haterade Emergency System. Any words that come out of Leah's mouth will be designed to put you back in your place and show you where to go, how to go, and just how fast you need to get there. While I recognize your purpose in her life now, just know her days of cowering and trembling about your petty little comments are over. There will be no more tears shed over your failure to recognize how awesome Leah is. As she prepares to take over the world with her master plan, just know that the Haterade will be available in larger sizes and in better flavors such as jealousy, envy, and "Oh, no she didn't."

Thank you, haters!

Sincerely,

LaQuisha

P.S., Folks, I am really sorry about today's post. LaQuisha got all fired up and she forced me to let her taking over the writing this morning. I think she's OK now. I'll give you fair warning if she decides to return. But, PLEASE, PLEASE, I beg of you, do NOT activate the Haterade Emergency System. It is NOT pretty!

Hugs!

Leah :-)

The Best Dreams Don't Come from a Microwave

Over the course of my life, I have seen things in this world get fast, fast, and even faster right before my eyes. In a little over 30 years, I have owned a turntable, walkman, discman, and now an iPod. I’ve gone from typing out assignments on a word processer to writing my weekly blog posts on a laptop. I can remember watching my brothers, Thomas and Raymond, staying up late at night to play games on Atari in the early 80s and now I watch my 6-year-old nephew Tyler kick my butt on any game on Nintendo Wii. I’ve gone from growing up in a house where my mother or father made a home cooked meal every day to nuking a prepackaged meal in the microwave or running to my favorite fast food joint for dinner. While there are definitely advantages to having these modern-day conveniences at our fingertips, the trouble comes when we think that God should move at the speed of a bag of microwave popcorn, too. Much to our displeasure at times, God still likes to do things the old-fashioned way.

I was talking with one of my seminar leaders earlier this week about my frustration about finding my next career move. I told him that I have been looking, applying, interviewing, and networking for new opportunities for well over a year. I explained that I was being very prayerful, positive, and hopeful. I told him all about the billions of affirmations that I have posted all over my bathroom mirror. With a dramatic sigh of exasperation, I said, “What the heck am I doing wrong?” He looked at me and said, “Leah, it doesn’t sound like you are doing anything wrong. These things don’t just happen over night. Great things take time to show up.” He gently reminded me of awesome men like Nelson Mandela and Martin Luther King, Jr. who held on to dreams for MANY years before the reality of what they stood for showed up.

As I thought about those great men for a moment, I realized that while this past year has felt like FOREVER to me, it really is no time at all. Imagine if Nelson Mandela would have given up after one year in prison or if Martin Luther King, Jr. would have stopped standing for civil rights after his first march. South Africa would still be under the rule of apartheid and people of color in the United States would still be oppressed. We couldn’t have even dreamed about having Barack Obama as our first African American president without the determination and perseverance of Dr. King and many other civil right leaders like him. While I know that my life’s purpose is different from Mandela’s and King’s visions, I recognize that I have to take my dreams out of the microwave and put them in God’s oven.

I’m realizing that great dreams are like a good meal. It takes more than a three-minute spin around the microwave to get what God really has in store for us. A good meal needs careful planning and patience. We have to pick the best and freshest ingredients; roll and mix things together with just the right spices; bake our dishes at the right temperature and for the right amount of time; and be patient and allow our the ingredients to marinate and steep to perfection. While modern-day technology can simulate home cooking from the microwave, we can all immediately taste the difference between a real home cooked meal and a something that comes out of a box.

Ok, now that I made you hungry, what am I getting at? For me, I know that I have to be more patient with God and with myself. There are some things that I have been praying about for years that I feel that God has pushed way to the back of the oven. While I allow some things to frustrate me, I know in the end that God’s timing is so much better than I could ever imagine. If I got everything when I wanted, just how I wanted it, without ever having to struggle for anything, what kind of faith would I have? How would I know to keep believing in God and not just give up when my hope begins to fade? I have to believe that God knows how to put together the ingredients of my life in just the right way, at just the right time. I trust that God knows when He needs to turn the heat up and when I need to be basted. I have to have faith that He knows when I need to be slow roasted or broiled. And even though I wish God’s oven timer would go off NOW (!!!), I believe that with all my heart that the meal that he has planned for me is going to blow my socks off.

I pray that my food-inspired posting on faith will help you to hold on to whatever you are dreaming for just a little while longer. Whether your blessings take 1, 2, or 25 years to become a reality, know that God’s timing is the BEST timing of all. Instead of impatiently pacing in front of the microwave of life, let’s put our dreams in God’s oven and make sure that our heart, minds, and souls are prepared for all the things that we are praying for. Ok, I’m going to go eat dinner now. Be blessed!

(P.S., Um, God, since I have been praying for the love of my life since I was 13, I’m really expecting for him to be like a like the best Thanksgiving meal ever. I’m just saying…)

Learning to Take a Compliment

I was watching the new season of "Project Runway" with my friend Laura on Thursday night, and I had a light bulb moment as we watched the show. One of the designers, Chris March, created a beautiful clothing collection during the competition and he was absolutely shocked when he made it to one of the top four slots. He began groveling and questioning his right to be a part of the competition. He even began to cry a little bit. Then, Laura, in her trademark frustration, looks at the screen and says, "That makes me so mad. He's just like you. He doesn't recognize how great he is." Laura has said things like that to me a MILLION times, but it finally hit home when she said it to me that night.



I'm a person who LOVES to lavish praise and compiments on others, but I've always had the HARDEST time accepting a compliment because I sometimes feel like people are lying or just trying to make me feel good. My low thoughts and beliefs rise up and tell me that I can't possibly be this wonderful person that these people are claiming for me to be. But, I know that God brings people in my life to hold up a mirror and show me who I am now and who I can be. Like Chris, most of the time I find a way to shy away or devalue my worth when others compliment me, but slowly but surely I am learning to say "Thank you." I'm learning that it's easier to accept a compliment from a true friend than to find reasons to invalidate the gifts and joy that they can see but I'm too stubborn to value for myself.



When we shut down a compliment, basically we are telling the other person that he or she is a liar. We are telling them that we really don't hold any value in their lives. When I began looking at my reluctance to receive compliments from that perspective, it made me feel horrible for not accepting the God-given gifts that HE allows to share every day. For me, I know that as I continue to accept my role as a beaming, hilarious, positive, and motivating lady, my friends are more willing to open up and be the best that they are, too. Compliments are a great affirmation that who we are makes a difference in the world around us. And, if you have really good friends like I do, their compliments are truly some of the best gift to receive -- they're even better when we actually accept them.

If you are blessed to receive a compliment today, just say "Thank you." Accept it as your payment for doing your small part to shine your light today.



P.S., See, Laura, I DO listen to you!!!

Let’s Get This Party Started Right!

Real joy and sustained peace come from within, nourished by a healthy engagement for one’s life and comfort with oneself. If you don’t enjoy your own company, no one else will either. Fun-loving people attract others because they start the party before any guests arrive. -Bishop T.D. Jakes

In this past year, I have really learned how to enjoy my singleness. Two weekends ago, I had the joy of meeting new folks; savoring the taste of melted cheese, melted chocolate, and two rounds of “joy” punch at the Melting Pot; celebrating my oldest sister’s 50th birthday; reviving my spirit at church; and enjoying a blissful night of music with the Mighty Mos Def. With all that excitement, it’s no wonder why I was conked out on Monday morning. But, I didn’t always see things that way…

Before I became enlightened about the joy of singleness, I lived with this thought that my life would magically become better once I found my special guy. I’d have fantastic nights out with my girlfriends, eating, drinking, dancing, watching movies, and indulging in good conversation. But, I would always feel empty and worthless because I was angry that my electric personality didn’t translate as well to the men I was trying SO desperately to attract. I was BEYOND frustrated. Then, about a year ago, I was watching an old episode of “Oprah” that featured some of the speakers from “The Secret,” including motivational speaker Lisa Nichols. I was captivated by her brutal honesty about how she only attracted men who were “dogs” into her life because her self-esteem was so low. She realized that she wasn’t praying to God for a quality man and that she was wearing a perfume of “desperation.” Wow! You could have knocked me over with a feather after watching that segment.

I haven’t been blessed with wild, adventurous tales of dating men from the dark side (Thank you, Jesus!), but I certainly viewed my singlehood as a curse and was relentless about pushing every guy that I met into the marriage express lane. By being so focused on hooking a guy, I inadvertently turned off the lovable, fun-loving Leah and turned on the desperate-I’ll-just-take-any-man Leah. After taking an honest look about how I was approaching my dating life, I realized that my plan of attack was certainly not attractive to me and it was probably pretty repulsive to the guys I tried to date. So, I decided to try a new approach — just be authentically me. I discovered that when I am really loving my life and being true to myself, men are attracted to my ongoing life party and are interesting in getting to know the real me. I have literally been shocked these past few months by how men now approach me when I LEAST expect it. Now, I would really appreciate if men would stop coming up to me when I am hot and sweaty after a long walk, but I can’t be choosy, right? LOL!

I just LOVED this quote from the T.D. Jakes article because it reminded me that people are attracted to you when you are creating and living a life that you fully enjoy. We only LIMIT ourselves when we think that our lives will get better once we get married and have children. (I beg you to talk to your married friends, I’m sure that will have a MUCH different story for you!) So, I challenge each of you (as I remind myself!), enjoy your singlehood NOW! Let your party be in full swing every day. When you are truly loving yourself, other people will be banging down your doors to join in on your fun.

Reference

Jakes, T.D. (2009, August). Single and satisfied. Essence, 39(8), 156.

On the Way to Bible Class with E. Lynn Harris

I was introduced to the wonderful world of E. Lynn Harris by my fellow Western High School alumna Mackenzie Lawson during 12th grade. She highly recommended his books, and since I had the most magnificent, slightly above minimum wage job at my local public library, I went in and checked out his first novel, Invisible Life, soon thereafter. I decided to start reading this book on a Friday evening while I was traveling to Bible Class on the bus. After I paid my fare, I sat down and was immediately engrossed in the first chapter. So, I was reading, reading, reading, still reading…and then I get to p. 17 -- Harris writes a very poignant description of the main character’s first homosexual encounter with a man. Dear God!! MY EYES! MY EYES! This was way TOO much for my naïve, Apostolic-raised, 17-year-old eyes. I immediately shut the book and promised God that I would not read anything by this author ever again. Three weeks later, I got over my initial shock, finished that book in four days, and fell deeply in love with the exquisite and delightful work of E. Lynn Harris.

My heart was deeply saddened upon learning about E. Lynn Harris’ death a few weeks ago on July 24, 2009. He brought so much joy to my heart through his books and his humble presence. While he received some criticism and some heart-stopping reactions similar to my Bible Class story based on his choice to focus his novels on homosexual relationships in the African American community, Harris won over millions of fans with his memorable characters (Kyle was my fav!) and his heart-warming stories about love, friendship, and redemption. Harris’s rise from a computer executive to a New York Times bestselling novelist was as equally inspiring as his books. After I got hooked to Harris’s books, I went to all of his book signings EVERY time he came through Baltimore, and it was always amazing to see how many devoted fans loved him as much as I did.

Through his work, I met my delightful sisters from the Sistahs That Are Reading Something (S.T.A.R.S.) book club in 1999 (that us to the left with E. Lynn at the Baltimore Book Lover's Breakfast in 2000); I earned my first official by-line in the Baltimore AFRO American Newspaper after I covered his great book signing at Morgan State University in Summer 2001; and I created a beautiful bond with my nephew, Clifton, after we discovered our mutual love for Harris’s books. I distinctly remember choosing to read his book, If This World Were Mine (my favorite!), during a late night in college instead of studying for an exam that I had the next day. Yes, I was truly an E. Lynn Harris groupie.

While his body is gone from this earth, his words will certainly live on. I remember re-reading his second novel, Just As I Am, last summer for the zillionth time as I was going through a difficult patch with myself self-identity. I nearly peed my pants when I found the answer to my prayers at the end of this novel. He wrote, “God only gets mad when we come down here and pretend to be something we’re not. That really pisses Him off.” What a beautiful reminder!

Thank you, Brother E. Lynn, for graciously sharing your heart and your words with us. Thank you for always reminding us to love and respect one another, regardless of our race, creed, profession, or sexual preference. Thank you for taking a bold stand to write about homosexuality and the challenges of self-identity when so many in the African American community were afraid to talk about and deal with this issue. I personally thank you for making me laugh, cry, keeping me up late at night to finish your books, and helping me to value my worth as a child of God. You are gone but most certainly will not be forgotten.
Rest in peace, E. Lynn.

E. Lynn Harris’s Bibliography

Invisible Life
Just As I Am
And This Soon Shall Pass
If This World Were Mine
Abide With Me
Not a Day Goes By
Any Way the Wind Blows
A Love of My Own
What Becomes of the Brokenhearted (memoir)
I Say a Little Prayer
Too Good To Be True
Basketball Jones
Mama Dearest (to be published September 22, 2009)

Sign Up for The Team of WE Today!

Growing up as a nerdy bookworm, I was allergic to organized sports and most physical activities. I didn’t like anything thrown at me, I wasn’t very fond of running, and certainly did not like to get dirty for no reason. I feel no shame about convincing my sister-mommy Diane to write several notes to my gym teachers over the years about my “conditions.” (Diane, the note you penned in 10th grade about my “severe reaction” to chlorinated pool water was BRILLANT. You helped me skip three weeks of swimming classes. LOL!). While I have been pretty successful at avoiding organized sports most of my life, I recently discovered the joy of getting on the court and joining the team of WE.

About a week ago, I took a mind-blowing empowerment class that helped me to really recognize that my life is truly not about me; I discovered that my life means NOTHING unless I am dedicated to taking a selfless stand for EVERY person in the world EVERY day. Tall order, eh? Little did I know that I and four other members in my class would get a crash course on what it means to stand for another person at the end of our Sunday night session. Let me set the scene.

It was just after midnight on the third day of our course. My classmates and I had just completed three days of intense, life-changing, 14-hour conversations. We were tired, hungry, and emotionally spent. Five of my comrades and I were gratefully walking out of the building on the way home. Then, one of our classmates approached us and told us that she would not be returning to complete the last part of our course on Tuesday. I’ve never seen five people get so enraged so quickly. We immediately rallied around her and used every strategy we could think of to get her to stay. There was yelling, laughter, frustration, some crying, some Salsa dancing, a breakout of Doritos and pretzel sticks, and a desperate call to a husband that a wife would be home eventually. Before we knew it, it was 2:45 a.m. (!!!!). We didn’t know if our classmate would show up on Tuesday, but we all knew that we learned a powerful lesson about standing and supporting another person. It was in that moment that I got off of the Team of ME and got on the Team of WE.

Folks, we don’t live on this planet by ourselves. We NEED each other to survive. If I accumulate massive wealth, it doesn’t mean anything if there are still homeless people in my neighborhood struggling to survive. I can’t boast about how wonderful my life is if my sister or brother is hurt or in pain. Life is about being an active member of the Team of WE. I realized during my stand for my classmate, whom I had just met three days prior, that I needed to take a stronger stand for my family, friends, and coworkers, many of whom I have known for most of my life. I am now FIERCLY dedicated to playing on the Team of WE. I look forward to getting dirty, grimy, and sweaty in order to stand for someone’s life. The Team of ME is exhausting and limiting; the Team of WE is invigorating and inspiring. Some members on the team of WE are tougher to fight for than others, but the game is SO worth it.

When I got to work on Monday, I was BEYOND tired. But, when one of my friends called me at 3:00 p.m. and told me that my classmate would be showing up on Tuesday, and then, when I actually saw her the following day, my heart was OVERFLOWING with love and energy that I can’t describe. I couldn’t stop hugging her and thanking God that my small role on the Team of WE helped another person reach her goal.

Are you signed up for the Team of WE? If not, make sure you show up on the field today!

(A HUGE shout out to the members of the super, duper, deluxe, late-night edition of the Advanced Course. I LOVE you guys SO much! And I love the rest of you guys who got proper rest that night, too. LOL!)

Switching Gears on My Blog

When I started my blog in June, I initially wanted it to be a continuation of the plus-size fashion Web site that I started when I was in graduate school, and I wanted to add some inspirational thoughts to boost the spirit. While I still love exploring and discussing new plus-size fashions, I discovered that what I really like (and what wakes me up at 5:30 in the morning!) is talking about life and what it means to be part of the human experience right now. Being truly alive to my life and enjoying the company of my friends and family is the greatest natural high ever. I just LOVE being able to truly think about life’s lessons and share them with you through my blog. Additionally, I have also discovered that most of my readers are NOT plus-size women. LOL! I was quite shocked that folks like my brother Thomas’s good friend Donald and my good friend Laura’s father were also reading my blog (Love you, Gary!).

With all of these thoughts in mind, I have decided to switch gears on my blog. I am now committed to focusing more on writings that explore the fine art of day-to-day living and what we all can do to live it more fully. You can still find me at the same address (http://curvyandfabblog.blogspot.com/), and my blog will now be called:

The Lifestyles of a Curvy and Fabulous Diva:

One Woman’s Mission to Cover the World with

Love, Laughter, and Life…Out Loud!

I will still talk about plus-size fashion from time to time. I have an appointment at an upscale bra shop at the end of the month that I can’t WAIT to blog about! (Fellas, you can skip that one. LOL!). However, I am dedicated to exploring many more topics through my blog as the Spirit gives me inspiration.

What is really rocking my socks right now is learning that life is a universal experience. Whether we are plus-size, skinny, black, or white (and everything else in between!), we are all going to experience love and heartache, triumph and setbacks, life and death. So, I figured my little blog could be just one place where all are open to share, learn, and celebrate this beautiful gift that we call life.

And, I CANNOT say it enough: THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU for reading my words. It really humbles me to know that the words that God gives me helps you (and me!) to make it just one mo’ day.

Love you, all!!!!!!!!

Check out today's blog called "Sign Up for The Team of WE."

Let's Get Crazy!

One of my favorite people in the world right now is President Barack Obama. Like many Obama fans, I was captivated by his eloquent speeches, his inspirational writings, and his unwavering stand for what this country can be. But what really got me is the fact that he’s just a little bit crazy. Not crazy as in he belongs in an insane asylum, but crazy enough to believe that he could become the first Black president of a country that has not been particularly kind to his people. He was out of his mind to stand in the face of incredible obstacles during his campaign and still be victorious. Even more looney, he saw the large looming task of tackling the toughest economy we’ve had in more than a generation and he stood firm in his commitment for this county. Now if that isn’t crazy, I don’t know what is.

I started thing about crazy people while I was in the supermarket yesterday. I was singing the chorus from Alanis Morrisette’s song “Crazy,” which says, “No we’re never gonna survive/Unless we get a little crazy.” As I strolled around Giant’s singing that song and subsequently freaking out my fellow shoppers, it dawned on me that my life would not change until I got really crazy about my hopes and dreams. I have lot of dreams that I am shooting for, but I realized that they weren’t crazy enough. Initially, I made a goal last week that I would walk 100 miles by December 31st. Now, I pushed that goal up to October 12th. I’ve always wanted to be a published author. Now, I’m crazy enough to believe that my books will rocket to the top of the New York Times bestseller list. Crazy? Hell yes. Impossible? Never!

This world isn’t changed by people who are sane; it’s transformed by people who are INSANE. Martin Luther King, Jr., Gandhi, Nelson Mandela, and Che Guevara were all lunatics. These men stood for the possibility of freedom for their people in the face of death, oppressive governments, and resistance from the very people they were trying to help. Mother Teresa, Sojourner Truth, and Harriet Tubman were raving mad women. Harriet alone had to be just west of crazy to fearlessly help 300 slaves escape to freedom. I’ve mentioned some pretty extraordinary people here, but the only thing that stands between us and them is our ability to get crazy about our hopes and dreams. I challenge you to start dreaming OUTRAGEOUS dreams. I dare you to reach outside of your comfort zone and start shaking things up. I’m pushing you to turn your world upside down. If people start looking at you strangely or asking about your mental health, you’re probably on the right track. Just be cautious about singing about your craziness out loud in grocery stores.

Wishing you a day of absolute CRAZINESS!!!

Hair Advice Needed!

Morning, folks! I have committed myself to walking 100 miles by December 31, 2009. In pursuit of that goal, my hair CANNOT be an issue. As much as I love my beloved Afro puffs, I need to put a shorter, wash-n-go hairdo into effect by the end of August. My ultimate goal is for my hair to be short enough for me to wash every two to three days yet still look feminine and classy for work and play. For those of you I haven’t seen in a minute, check out my profile pics on Facebook to see what my hair looks like now. I’ve had the same length for about nine years.

My initial thoughts are to cut the back and the sides down to about 1 ½ inches and to leave about 2 – 3 inches of hair on the top. I’m also thinking about cutting it to about 2 inches all over my head and getting a texturizer. I’m open to other ideas, especially from my fellow divas with short hair.

Your advice is gladly welcomed and needed! Thanks, folks!

How Great You're NOT

When I’m not on Facebook or creating posts for this blog, I actually do work as a book editor for an educational company in the DC Metro area. Typically, it takes about nine months for a book to go from being a pile of paper on my desk to becoming an actual product that people can buy and read. Nine months is a long time to get attached to one project, and after awhile, I really start to treat my books like my babies. I become very cautious about who gets near my womb and tries to disrupt their development.

During the process of developing our books, we make time for a fellow editor to provide a critique of our books to ensure that we are creating the best possible product. For the most part, I really like this process because I like to hear from my fellow editors just how great my book project really is and what a great job I’ve done with it up to that point. So, I recently released one of my babies from my cubicle and allowed one of my fellow editors to begin the critiquing process. She took a few extra days to finish her critique, and I began thinking, “When she gives me my book back, I am REALLY going to find out what an AWESOME editor I am.” Boy, did I set myself up for the shock of a lifetime. When my baby came back to me, it was covered with a sea of Post-Its notes and editing marks up the ying yang. To say that I was HOT was an understatement. How dare my co-worker tear down this project that I had already worked on for six months! Didn’t she understand how brilliant it already was? I didn’t need her telling me how to fix my baby just before I was going to release it to the world.

In another part of my life, I’m taking several classes to discover more about me and my personal power. During one of my classes, the seminar leader said, “We don’t become more powerful by learning from what we already know. We grow from learning what we DON’T know.” Oh…my…God! Here I was PISSED at my co-worker for pointing out several errors in my latest book project, and I was this close to missing the blessing that she was providing for me – the opportunity to learn how great I was NOT so that I could create a better book and become a better book editor. When she first gave the book back to me, I just looked at that Post-It covered stack of paper with anger and disgust. After I got this revelation, I couldn’t wait to get back to my desk, read EVERY Post-It, and soak up all the lessons that she gave to me.

If you are like me, I’m sure you love to hear other people tell you how wonderful, beautiful, amazing, and fantastic you are. We can all spend days basking in the glow of how terrific we really think we are. But God forbid if anyone comes up to us and tells us how great we are NOT. We will cause heaven and earth to split wide open if anyone dares to tell us that we are really nasty, selfish, inconsiderable, and evil. Our ego can’t handle that kind of truth. Even though it hurts like hell to hear, my friends, I come to tell you that our faults and shortcomings are the greatest things that could ever happen to us. And when someone has the courage to tell you how great you are NOT, push your ego aside and be open to the gift they are giving you. When you allow the gift of your un-greatness to come into your life, your world will never be the same.

As I was thinking about this blog post yesterday, I began singing of one of my favorite hymns “How Great Thou Art.” I almost threw myself into hysterical fit when I replaced the words of that song to “How Great You’re NOT.” The more I laughed, the more I realized that when we go through life and think we have it all together, we miss the opportunity to learn how to be even better than we were before. Even though my ego is not looking forward to it, I can’t wait to get another present.

Friends, I hope you get some unexpected gifts today.

(A HUGE shout out to all the prego ladies in my life who inspired the baby analogy in this posting. I CANNOT wait to meet these little people who are already creating ruckus from inside the womb. LOL!)