I was always the last chosen for teams in gym class. Always isn't an exaggeration. It would 100% be between me and a kid somehow slower than me, which was usually baffling because, yeah, I was slow, unathletic, uncoordinated, terrified, all of it. When my high school counselor gave me my Senior year final GPA, …
Le 40 is Le Terrifying and I Can’t Understand Why.
Y'all. Why am I so scurred about turning 40???? A bit of background: growing up, no age ever really scared me off. I ached to be 12. I couldn't wait to be 16. 21 was super cool. 25? Give me 5. And if you've read any of my past posts, you know about the wonder, …
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How to Adult.
Because let's be honest: there was no real manual to prepare for adulting when we were kids, was there? Sure, our parents may have given us advice and even perhaps provided their own living example. But we were destroying playing Legos and watching Jem and the Holograms. We--I, for sure--weren't paying attention. And then you …
be our guest.
There we all are, sitting in our living room in our old house in Ghana, surrounded by endless laughter and fascinating conversations. My parents are there; also uncles, aunts, various relatives, and longtime family friends that might as well be kin to us, being that I've known them and have been around them for as …
Starring This Square Peg as Herself.
I was 11 years old, a quiet sixth-grader. That day, we embarked on a field trip to a place called Hemlock Overlook. The bus ride was animated, filled with the excited conversations of my fellow classmates. I silently observed the scenes passing us by and wondered just where we were headed. Field trips had always …
“when you gonna make up your mind?”
Confession: I lost a bit of myself in 2017. I think it happens to every woman. Here and there, pieces of who we are, good pieces, at that, begin to crumble at our feet. The sources of that quiet, subtle destruction are many. Discouragement, lack of confidence, heartbreak, loss, pain, unhappiness--so, so many things. Womanhood …
(Un)necessary.
What is? Closure. Let me tell you a story. Many, many moons ago during that perilous decade known as my Twenties, I met a boy. He was nice; we became friends. Eventually, I developed a crush on him (as I was prone to do) and silly me, I believed that he felt romantical (definitely not …
here.
Yes, I moved. Yes, I hitched up my lady pantaloons and made the decision to start over with new people, new new places, and new things. Yes, I wept when leaving my mother, my brothers, and my sister. Yes, I continued to weep on and off days after arriving in the Dallas area (specifically Carrollton) and …
I’d Like to Marry for Money, Please.
Got your attention, huh? When I was a teenager, I was like most young girls. I read Tiger Beat and BOP magazine and dreamed about Jonathan Brandis and New Kids on the Block and other movie/TV/music stars. Cute was everything. Whenever I imagined being married in the future--well, quite honestly, I didn't want a husband; I wanted to be Angela Bower, …
from the start.
I've always been different.I entered the world quietly. No crying or whimpering. As a result, the doctor gently swatted me on the bottom. My mother said I turned my brand new head toward the doctor and seemed to gaze at him with disdain. Like, did you just SWAT me, fool? I then responded to the swat with a slight whimper. …