#ShareTheMicNow And #KeepSharingTheMic

So often when the world listens to women, it leaves Black women out of the conversation, and so often, our voices go unheard. 

Even though we have amazing things to contribute. 

This week, there was an attempt to fix that. Popular white celebrity women muted themselves and handed over their Instagram accounts to popular influencers, activists, writers, and total bosses. 

All women. All Black. 

This was for a campaign called #ShareTheMicNow. 

When I first heard of the campaign, I was all kinds of excited because, at a time like this, the world needs to hear from Black women. That's why I was very excited when the amazing folks at Babbleboxx reached out to me to join forces with them for the piggyback campaign, #KeepSharingTheMic. 

So I took over BabbleBoxx's Instagram Stories yesterday to introduce myself, share my writing, share my joy, and share a little bit of what I think the world needs now to begin to dismantle white supremacy and work towards being anti-racist. I did all of this while pushing past my discomfort, getting in front of the camera, and speaking truth to power. This message is too important and too necessary for me not to.

My biggest focus? 

What are we going to tell the kids when they grow up and ask us what we did to fix this mess? I mean, I'm around children all day, everyday so I couldn't think of a better thing to focus on. 

And then, as I was just about to #DropTheMic and turn it back over to BabbleBoxx, I challenged their followers with a call to action that included four things:

1. Reading
2. Watching
3. Donating
4. Discussing 

Check out BabbleBoxx's Instagram Stories and let me know what you think! This week was one step in the right direction. 

Let's #KeepSharingTheMic. After all, there's enough room for all of our voices to be heard.

On Black Lives Mattering And Resources to Becoming Anti-Racist

Dapper Dudes

Aiden has several nerf guns. Matter of fact, he went through back-to-back-to-back Christmases and birthdays where that’s all he requested. And that’s all he got.

He’s not allowed to play with any of them outside.

He’s also not allowed to play with water guns outside. Matter of fact, he’s never even owned a water gun. I’ve always refused to buy them for him and refused to allow people to gift them to him.

Why?

Because I’m afraid that, if he had one, he'd want to do play with it outside, and police officers will see him with the water gun, mistake it for a real one, and shoot him... because he's Black.

If you’re a mother and you’ve never had to worry about that, then this post is for you. If you’re not a mother and you think that’s a wild thought, then this post is for you. If you’re surprised that this is the reality of mothers of Black and brown boys in America, then this post is for you. If you work with Black and brown kids in any capacity, then this post is for you.

If you want to be an ally, then this post is for you.

Quaran-team!

Truth is, I think about things like this all the time. I don’t live in fear, but I’m aware that it’s a necessary part of my son’s survival. I’ve written about this before. 

And I want you to understand that, having something like this be at the forefront of your mind, along with all the other stressors that come with raising a child, is stressful AF.

Full stop.

It literally takes a toll on my mental, emotional, and physical well-being. Imagine dealing with this everyday and then having to show up at work and go hard as I always do... all while watching my tone and choosing my words carefully because I don't want a white co-worker to think I'm an Angry Black Woman. (But who wouldn't be angry if this were their lived experience?)

Photo credit: Google 

Aiden is 12. (Same age as Tamir Rice.) He knows about Amy Cooper and George Floyd and all of the protesting because we’ve been openly discussing it in our house. And he's been listening and asking questions.

He’s twelve. And cute and funny and sometimes quirky. He still sleeps with a night light and teddy bears on his bed. And he’s been asking for extra hugs these days.

But at what age is he going to be seen as a threat?

13? 15? 16?

How many more years do I have with him until the Amy Cooper’s of the world use their whiteness as a weapon against him? Or police officers see him as threatening?

How many more?

I’m sick. I’m tired. I'm hurt. I’m mentally exhausted. I'm emotionally spent. Because the truth is racism and systematic oppression are so deeply embedded in our society that it literally affects every… single… aspect of our daily lives and lived experiences. It's everywhere and it's terrorizing!

You may know about George Floyd, but people are not protesting just because of him. This is from years and years and decades and decades of us begging and pleading and peacefully protesting (see: Kaepernick) to law enforcement and elected officials to treat us like humans. See our humanity. Stop killing us.

It's too much!

And we are tired.

12th birthdays be like...

And because other people – who are way smarter than me – have already written or spoken on it, I’m sharing their work. I’ve literally read all of these books (sometimes twice, sometimes thrice!) and watched all of these films (sometimes twice!). They're good and informative. 

Click, read, listen, learn a thing or two, and support… you know the deal.

On racism and the criminal justice system…

Read: The New Jim Crow by Michelle Alexander

Watch: 13^th by Ava DuVernay

Watch: When They See Us by Ava DuVernay

On voting…

Watch: Selma by Ava DuVernay (yes, I love her and all her #BlackGirlMagic)

On segregation, redlining, White Flight, and government-created low-income neighborhoods…

The Color of Law by Richard Rothstein

The Warmth of Other Suns by Isabel Wilkerson

On a little bit of what it’s like to be a Black man in America…

Between the World and Me by Ta-Nehisi Coates

What Doesn’t Kill You Makes You Blacker by a Very Smart Brother, Damon Young

On White Supremacy why it’s so hard for White folks to talk about racism…

White Fragility by Robin Diangelo

On Raising An Advocate and reading books with little Black kids as main characters...
Raising An Advocate by Mamademics
Any one of Denene Millner books  (My kids' libraries are stocked with these books)

Articles that I’ve posted to my Facebook account within these last couple weeks:

How White Women Can Use Their Privilege to End Racism

Five Anti-Racism Responses “Good” White Women Give to Viral Posts

Your Kids Aren’t Too Young to Talk About Race: Resource Round-Up

After you’ve read and studied and learned a few things, donate some money to the cause, if you have it.

And then, actively work to be anti-racist. And then, stand in the gap for us.

Seriously. Talk to people about Black lives mattering.

Make it a habit, even when there's not a major civil rights movement happening.

Make it a habit, even after all these George Floyd protests die down.

Make it a habit, before the next hashtag becomes a "thing".

Make it a habit, by posting about it on social media.... along with all the other mundane shit that we like to post.

Make it a habit, even when people bring up looters and rioters. (Spoiler alert: humans over property, all day, e'erday!)

Make it a habit, even when people bring up Black on Black crime. (Newsflash: it's a myth.)

Make it a habit, even when people try to whitesplain MLK and what he stood for. (Plot twist: they murdered him too.)

Make it a habit, even when people say, "He should have been more respectful/less resistant/followed orders" and a whole bunch of other things in order to... I don't know... stay alive. (Be clear: we ain't about that victim-blaming life.)

Make it a habit, by talking about Black lives mattering with your friends, family, and co-workers.

If you’re afraid of saying the wrong thing, say something anyway. Practice, stay at it, and you’ll get better. If you’re afraid of what your white friends and family members might say in response, ask yourself why, do some soul-searching, check your privilege, and say something anyway. Because wherever you are, that is your frontline.

This is literally a matter of life and death for my kids.

And me.

I Am In Mourning

Yesterday was a typical day for Aiden. I took him and August to the Brooklyn Bridge Park Pier 2 pool, he worked on his cannon balls, played Marco Polo and pool tag with a few other kids, and swam until he was tired. Overtired.

We had lunch on a nearby picnic table, listened to music, chatted, shared jokes.

We took a walk to Pier 1, played under the Brooklyn Bridge, went to Jane's Carousel, and played on a nearby lawn.

It wasn't until after we got home, after dinner, after baths and cleaning and putting the boys to bed that I realized something: it wasn't a typical day at all. Not for me. Not as a mom of a little black boy.

That's when I realized that I was in mourning. I am in mourning.

Yesterday, America woke up to a hashtag. Another hashtag of another black man, Alton Sterling, killed at the hands of police officers, those who are supposed to protect and serve.

At this point, I am scared. I fear for my sons. I fear for Aiden's and August's lives.

I share so much about my story and Aiden's life on this place and space. I share my truth. Well, this fear? It's also my truth. I am scared, y'all.

If Aiden were to ever be stopped by a police officer, how does he stay safe? How does he stay alive? What do I tell him that'll keep him alive and well and help him get home without holes in his body?

Respect authority?
Don't wear a hoodie?
Don't play with toy guns?
Don't ask, "Why am I being pulled over?"

In the land of the free, don't act so... free?

What?! What do I tell him to help him stay alive?

He's eight.

He's sweet and funny and full of energy. He loves to read to August and play with August. He loves to play on his iPad, play chess, and swim. He gets a thrill from solving math problems and doing science experiments. He likes to try to shoot like Steph Curry (even though he can't make a three-pointer for the life of him). He's terrified of bugs and he's still scared of the dark. He still sleeps with teddy bears and the lights on and children's music in order to not be so afraid of the dark.

He's eight.

But soon he will be 10. Then 12. Then 15.

Soon he will be taller. Soon he will weigh more. Soon he will grow facial hair. Soon, some white women will cringe when they see him walking towards them. Soon, some teachers in his school will no longer give him the benefit of the doubt, but he will get a huge consequence for a minor infraction. Soon, some store clerks will follow him around thinking that he's about to steal something. Soon, police officers will see his brown skin and see him as a threat to their safety.

What then? What, as his mother, do I do at that point?

I'm at a loss. And I'm scared.

This may fade away from the spotlight. The Alton Sterling and Philandro Castile hashtags may fade away from mainstream media. After awhile, people may stop talking about it. But know this: it won't go away. Not for me, not for black mothers. Aiden's brown skin won't go away. He can't take it off. He has to live with it every single day.

Yesterday, I had the news on in the background as I was making dinner and as Aiden was playing with a ball. The Alton Sterling coverage came on and Aiden's first response was, "But... they didn't have to kill him! Even if they thought he had a gun, they're supposed to just arrest him and take him to jail."

His second response went something to the tune of, "Wait... something like this happened before. Right?"

He remembers Mike Brown. And Tamir Rice. And Eric Garner.

He's eight.

I am in mourning. And I... I can't breathe.

The Sunrise

[photo via]

Aiden (as we were getting ready to walk out of the apartment in the morning): Mommy, mommy... come here quickly! Look at this!

Me (trying the grab my bags, jacket, and put my shoes on): Okay. Give me a sec. I'm coming.

Aiden: Look at this!

Me: (walks over to the Living Room window, that he was staring out of.) What is it?

Aiden: Look! It's beautiful!

He was showing me the sunrise.

We live on the 11th floor, and our apartment has large windows and lots of natural sunlight. He was right. It was beautiful. Way to teach me how to slow down, smell the roses, and take it all in.


I love that kid!

Put Some Good Back Into The World

Today is my birthday. I'm 29. And I feel as though I'm right where I'm meant to be in life... right where I need to be in life... and so many things have fallen into place for me.

I've found my happy. I'm in a good place. And it feels good. Very good.

All this week as I thought about what I was going to do to celebrate my birthday, I thought of the usual: dinner, drinks, and dancing with friends. That's always fun. And a great way to celebrate too.

But I wanted to do more. And when I thought of what I really wanted, it was to put some more good back into the world. Even if it were a small act of kindness.

So I've been working on doing small, kind things all week -- surprising my co-worker with Starbucks in the morning, helping my god-sister get a summer internship, doing a favor for my sister, connecting readers who've emailed me about one thing or another with resources that I know are helpful for them, connecting a friend of a friend of a friend with a recruiter because that friend of a friend of a friend wants a job at the recruiter's company.

With all the crazy, awful, and downright unbelievable things happening in the world right now, I wanted to direct my energies towards putting some good back into the world.

It felt good. Really good. 

This weekend I'm challenging each of you to put some good back into the world by doing one act of kindness. It doesn't have to be anything major, but it'll make a difference. Trust me on this.

Leave a comment here or send me an email about your act of kindness and I'll give you a shout out on the Mommy Delicious Facebook Page.

Are you in?

On Raising and Disciplining and Loving Our Kids

I've been thinking a lot about discipline lately, especially in light of a recent event where a father whipped his two daughters so badly that it left them with scars and open wounds. My stance? That's clearly abuse and he should be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law for it. And... corporal punishment is the most ineffective way to discipline a child. And... asserting your power by hitting kids to get them to comply is wrong. Point blank. Period. That's my view and I'm really not up for debating it.

But this entire ordeal has me thinking about what it takes to raise socially-competent, intelligent, self-aware, caring kids who will be successful at whatsoever field they pursue. And it keeps bringing me back to this poem.

Read it. Think on it. And be inspired...

If I Had To Raise My Kid All Over Again
By Diane Loomans

If I had my child to raise all over again,
I'd build self esteem first, and the house later.
I'd fingerpaint more, and point the finger less.
I would do less correcting and more connecting.
I'd take my eyes off my watch, and watch with my eyes.
I would care to know less and know to care more.
I'd take more hikes and fly more kites.
I'd stop playing serious, and seriously play.
I would run through more fields and gaze at more stars.
I'd do more hugging and less tugging.
I'd see the oak tree in the acorn more often.
I would be firm less often, and affirm much more.
I'd model less about the love of power,
And more about the power of love.

Have a great weekend!

What Moms Want From President Obama

[photo via]

I'm not here to tell you want moms want. I'm here to ask you. I'm writing a piece for an online publication and we want to know what you want to see from Obama in his second term. So whether you voted for him or not, and no matter where you stand politically, I would love to here your opinions on the following:

• healthcare
• education
• gun control laws
• environmental issues
• anything else you deem important

Your name and age (if you feel comfortable sharing it) will be included with your quote. You can either leave your quote in the comments section or email it to me directly at momdelicious@gmail.com.

Let's have America hear our voices.

Ready... set... GO! 

Thank A Teacher Today

I had a different post scheduled to go live today. It was going to talk (in-depth) about how stressful life could be when you're raising a kid and trying to climb the career ladder. Because it is.

It's hard.

But, when you look at the bigger picture, it's irrelevant.

Life is stressful. Things happen. But as long as we are alive, we can always work towards getting over it. These crazy life circumstances and stresses are nothing (nothing!) when you compare them to real tragedies, to real misfortunes.

What happened in Sandy Hook Elementary school on Friday was a real tragedy.

Today, instead of heading to school with their beautiful children, two families are heading to a funeral for their children, and too many more families are preparing for their children's funerals.

The names of the victims were released by the New York Times yesterday and seeing their names in print made it that much more real for me. 

The children were Aiden's age.

As a parent, I can't even fathom what it must be like. As a former teacher, I can't even fathom how it must feel. As an educator and elementary school administrator, I spent my morning listening to parents' concerns and assuring them that our school building is as safe as possible, that their beautiful children will be okay with us, with their teachers. Today and everyday.

Then, I took action. I thanked the teachers in my building for their grit, their hard work, and their relentless dedication to our scholars and our mission.

It's not an easy job, but I know that every teacher in my school building would have done exactly what Victoria Soto (age 27) did for her students -- protect them at all costs.

So today, join me and hundreds of blogger across the Internet to say, "Thank you." Send a card, draft an email, send flowers. Show your gratitude in some small way because teaching ain't easy.

And you have to love this job in order to do it well.

What Are You Waiting For?

{Photo via}

Earlier this week, I ran into an old friend from high school and it reminded me of this post. We haven’t seen each other since senior year of high school (or maybe a year or two after that, but my memory fails me right now), which was ten (or eight or nine) years ago. After hugs and “hellos”, I asked her the typical, “How have you been?! How is everything?!” questions to which she replied:

“I’m... *sigh*… I’m… not happy. I’ve been working at my job for seven years and I’m… not happy. I want a change. I want to do something different.”

Two thoughts.

Number one: I’ve said this so many times before and I mean it – timing really iseverything. And I’m glad that we bumped into each other at the right time, in the right space because she obviously needed someone to vent to. I was happy that she was able to find refuge in our meaningful conversation. Even if it was for only 30 minutes. I knew that I needed to offer her words of encouragement. So I did.

Number two: There’s no time better than right NOW to start working towards figuring out your goals and taking the steps to accomplishing them. This is exactly what I told my long lost friend. Well, part of what I told her anyway. (“The good thing is that you’ve figured out what’s making you unhappy. That's half the battle. So now you can set your goals and work towards finding your ‘happy’.”)

As I was listening to my long lost friend and conversing with her, I couldn’t believe that ten years had gone by (or eight or nine). So much has happened in my life since then. I’ve been through so much, grown so much, learned so much. I’ve failed at some things too. But I’ve bounced back from them.

The thing is, time is going to pass anyway. Before we know it, it’s going to be two years from now, five years from now, ten years from now. So... we might as well use this time right NOW to figure out what we want in life. 

And work.

A few days ago I posted this on the Mommy Delicious Facebookpage: Do what you LOVE! Period. There is a big difference between making a living and making a LIFE.

Which are you making right NOW?

Parents Magazine September 2012 Issue

[Parents Magazine September 2012]

A few weeks ago, I had the privilege of joining a group of women (mothers) writers and bloggers for lunch in Midtown East Manhattan in order to discuss the upcoming election and things that are important to us as parents. The discussion was hosted by Parents Magazine (somebody pinch me!) and facilitated by CNN's Soledad O'Brien (no, really... somebody pinch me!).

[The entire group of women]

[Me. Soledad O'Brien]

And I was bringing it! When it comes to educational equity and the achievement gap, you won't be able to shut me up! Equipped with stats and passion, I spoke my mind about fairness in education and how it effects our most vulnerable youth, which is exactly why I'm dedicating my life's work to doing something about it in my new job.

[I spy a delicious mommy on page...]

Part One of the story is in the September issue of Parents Magazine and it has already hit the news stand so check it out! You can also find the online version of the story HERE!

Thanks so much to Parents Magazine for hosting us and to Soledad for facilitating such an important discussion!

I Got A New Job

This week I received pretty great news.

I got a job offer. But, not just any job. The job.

The job that's a career-changer. The job that makes you feel like a "real" grown up.

It’s a position as part of the leadership team for a very popular and successful charter school network in NYC and NJ that works to close the achievement gap. I’d be working in an elementary school, directly with the principal and other school leaders. And I’d be supervising the teachers, observing them in their classrooms and providing them with feedback/suggestions to improve their classroom management techniques. I’d also be developing, implementing, and maintaining school-wide programs in order to sustain a positive school culture. Pretty warm-and-fuzzy.

The position combines my love for (and experience with) urban education/teaching and counseling. (And the paycheck makes me smile. A lot. #ImJustSaying)

I was so excited when I got the call from the principal offering me the position that I may or may not have said, "Get outta here! Really?!"

But I digress...

This is pretty much my dream position. So much so that when I finished grad school last May, I added this exact position as something to accomplish while I was putting together my Five-Year Plan. I figured I’d work really, really hard for the next five years or so, hone my leadership skills and all that jazz, and then apply for the position. But, if I can’t see my greatness (even right now), how can I expect others to see it?

FOUR rounds of intense interviews later (one that included me teaching a lesson to a class of summer school students while the principals and school leaders watched from the back of the classroom, taking notes) and here I am.

Success.

I didn’t tell anyone that I was applying for the position. I wanted to trust my own intuition on this one and follow my own instincts. 

So one night, I filled out the long, extensive application. Quietly. Confidently. 

When I had a moment of doubt in my abilities after the first round of interviews, I told one friend: L. Over margaritas at happy hour (there's always a happy hour involved), she encouraged me. She's a Heaven-sent.

And the bottom line is this: I worked really hard to get to and through Columbia – as an undergrad and in grad school. I worked really hard as a NYC public school teacher and as counselor. And the shindigs that I had in between only helped me to hone even more skills.

Proper preparation.

As the saying goes, "Luck is what happens when preparation meets opportunity."

I don’t share all of this to toot my own horn. That's not really my style. I share it to show you that dreams really do come true and hard work really does pay off. Always.

And… there’s no time like the present to buckle down, grind through, and pursue your dreams. There's no time like the present to be purposeful with your time and lead a fulfilling life, in every way possible. 

And to think that just 2 ½ years ago my life was like this.

Game over.

Aiden and I are moving onward and upward. 

[A and I walking across the Brooklyn Bridge. Symbolic, in so many ways.]

And walking into our season.

On Learning Hard Life Lessons

{photo via}

Earlier this week I found myself sitting on my girl K's couch at her apartment in Harlem. We were having one of those serious heart-to-heart life-can-really-kick-your-ass-sometimes conversation. As I was talking to her, I found myself reminding her (and myself!) that we've learned a lot so far as young adults. This really helped us put a lot of things into perspective and see that we actually have come a long way. I don't know everything and I'm still learning everyday, but I'm glad that I've learned this much thus far.

Today, I can't help but share a few of those "lessons" with you. So here it goes:

1.  Everyone won't understand why you do certain things. It's cool though. They're not required to "get it." But you should try to understand the motives behind your actions. It's self-awareness. At its finest.

2.  Your intuition probably knows more about your safety than you do. It always has your best interest at heart and it's always right. The sooner you learn to trust it, the better.

3.  Everyone makes mistakes. Including you. Be forgiving of yourself. Learn the lesson. And move forward.

4.  It's okay to express emotional generosity towards others. It doesn't make you weak. It makes you kind. ("Be kinder than necessary" is one of my favorite quotes.)

5.  YOU define your worth and value, not others. And not their opinions of you either. YOU define it.

6.  It's okay to agree to disagree with other people... without being disagreeable. (No need to argue, fight, or try to get people to see your point of view. Sometimes, it's okay to agree to disagree.)

7.  It's perfectly fine to enjoy your personal and professional life... and still be a good mother. It makes you well-rounded.

8.  Giving others the silent treatment will probably get you nowhere. Have the courage to express your thoughts and feelings... without being disagreeable.

9.  "No." is a complete sentence. Learn to use it whenever deemed necessary.

10.  Be humble enough to ask for help before things get too overwhelming.

11.  Dysfunctional love is not real love. There comes a point when the "growing pains" end, and the "pain" pain begins. Learn to recognize when you've reached that point.

What would you add to this list? Kick knowledge!

The Strength To Be Vulnerable

Once in a while, someone will say to me along the lines, "I don't understand how you can be so open on your blog." That comment is usually followed up with something along the lines of, "Isn't it strange to put yourself out there?"

My response is always simple. "It's cool, you don't have to understand." And, "Nope, it's not strange at all."

(If you read yesterday's post, you'll know that I'm in a "To each his own" kind of place right now.)  It is cool. And they don't have to understand why I do what I do.

But I'll tell you. Back in July, I wrote a post sort of explaining why I do what I do here on this corner of the Internet. Sure I'm fairly open and transparent with lots of things going on in my life. (Within reason.) I don't share everything, but I do share things with a specific purpose in mind. And that purpose is you. I've noticed more and more that people who are going through things that are similar often email or message me to share their stories, to release, to feel comforted in knowing that someone else out there is getting through (or has already gone through) what they are going through at this very moment.  

That sense of universality... that sense of community... that sense of "If she can do it, so can I" -- that's why I share. It's certainly not because I think I have all the answers. Because I don't. But it takes strength to be vulnerable. And it takes strength to "go first," so to speak. It's scary at times, but you make it worth it. So thank you. I hope you know that you inspire me as much as you say that I inspire you.

Blessed To Be A Blessing

[Originally published on July 15, 2011] 

I often think about the mission of this blog and I how I want to convey my life for the use of this community. Some weeks more than others. This week was one of those weeks.

As I thought about where my I have been in life and where my life is heading, I kept coming back to the same important thought -- I'm blessed to be a blessing.

I have been through a lot in my life. Trials and triumphs. Bad times and ugly times. Hard times and harder times. But when it all boils down, I know that I've had a lot more ups than downs. In my opinion anyway.

Optimism.

I've shared some of my most personal stories on this here place and space.

My struggles with dealing with an unexpected pregnancy.

My struggles with learning to cook. Or the fact that I was totally cooking-impaired. I still am. But just a lil bit.

My experience with domestic violence and the decision to leave the relationship.

My struggles with accepting my single-mom status.

The boundaries and privacy issues that have arisen as I attempt to use the bathroom sans Aiden.

My struggles with starting, sticking with, and finishing graduate school as a solo parent. #Winning.

The lessons that I've learned from being in an abusive, toxic relationship.

My dating escapades as a young, single mom.

And much, much more.

My story is far from perfect. I've made mistakes. Lots of 'em. And I've even shared those mistakes with you. Because I've bounced back from them. Most of 'em anyway. And they've made me into the person that I am today.

Blessed.

It takes an immense amount of strength to be vulnerable and personal and lay it all out there -- the good, the bad, and the ugly.

Resilient.

When I think about the mission of this blog, the one thing that comes to mind is that I want to be a blessing to someone else. And I pray that I have been because, in reality, none of this'll matter if I am not a blessing to you in some way. If you are not inspired by this community that we've created, then it'll all be in vain.

But it hasn't been. Because you are blessed to be a blessing. And I am blessed to be a blessing.

So thank you. And you. And you. And you. For making Mommy Delicious the community that it has become. This is only the beginning. We've only scratched the surface. And it's never felt better.

High five.

On Defining Your Worth

This turning 28-years-old at the end of this month is doing something to me. Not in the oh-my-goodness-I'm-getting-old kind of way. More in the I'm-grown-and-FEEL-more-like-a-grown-up kind of way. I feel like I can make my own decisions (something that I've been doing for a long, long time) and not have to second guess myself because I'm afraid of what others might think about said decision (something that I have not been doing consistently for a long, long time).

It feels good. 

Growing up, I typically strongly and quietly pursued what I felt was right for me at the time. Without really consulting anyone. I just did it, and people had their own thoughts and feelings regarding whatever I did, but the decision was already made by that time.

Then Aiden's other parent happened. And with the demise of that relationship came a lack of confidence in my ability to make sound and good enough decisions. For seemingly a long time, I didn't trust my own judgment. (If you've ever been in that position, you'd know that it's not a good feeling.) I second guessed many of the things that I did and asked people for their opinion before thinking about my own opinions. In some weird, twisted, and convoluted way, I felt like my worth was all wrapped up in what other people thought of me and my ability to make decisions. 

But people make mistakes. Lots of 'em. And that's quite alright. Taking something away after the mistake is made is what's key -- growing pains. At it's finest. 

And ultimately, my worth is not defined by what other people think of me or my decisions. It's defined by me. 

I'm happy that the emotional roller coaster of my 20s are under control. I feel more stable. I feel more in control. I feel like my decision are my own again -- when it comes to making choices about how to raise Aiden, when it comes to my career choices,  and when it comes to personal decisions. 

When people question my decision to to enroll Aiden in private school in the fall, to have him in bed by 8:30pm, or to maintain my own identity that's separate from parenting, I no longer take it personally. In fact, my response is quite simple: "Eh, to each his own."

When people question my decision to counsel teens in the foster care system and work as a freelance writer, besides the fact that I love it and it gives me life, my response is simple: "Eh, to each his own." 

I was having dinner at a friends apartment a couple weeks ago and our mutual friend joined us. She was describing a personal decision that she'd made a couple weeks prior. She and I are in fairly similar situations, but not close enough to call it the same. The decision that I made regarding my situation is the exact opposite decision that she made. Throughout dinner, she kept saying something along the lines of, "I have to know my worth and be a woman and stick with my decisions." I agreed with her. She does have to do that for herself. 

And I have to make and stick with my own decisions. And it's quite alright that my decision is different from hers. We agreed to disagree, but without being disagreeable. Because, ultimately, my worth is not defined by what other people think of me or my decisions. It's defined by me.

Eh... to each his own.

How do you define your worth?

**These photos don't have much to do with this post, but I took them a few weeks ago on the plane back from hanging out at the eBay offices in California. They're pretty dope, huh?