Tag: compassion

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First, let me start by saying, I do have a day job.  And – as far as day jobs go – I am very thankful for my job – and the folks I work with.  My teammates are some of my closest friends.  My supervisor, is awesome.  He backs us, helps us – I couldn’t ask for more.  Now, that being said – I was on vacation the week before last – and it was amazing.  My best friend from VA was here – and we had a great time.  A time to decompress, catch up, and relax.  We both have a lot going on in our lives – both moms – jobs – and busy.  So just to sit and enjoy one another was a huge blessing.  I ended that week with a new sense of purpose.  Relaxed.  And a new mindset upon my “day job”.

The week went pretty much like normal, and I was smiling the whole time ( that part not necessarily normal).  But I had decided to be grateful for my job.  My co-workers.  My supervisor.  And when things rose up that would normally stress me out, I took a deep breath, and I was good.  I went through the week feeling amazing.  Until the last day of the work week.

I know it could be risky writing this, but – I feel like I have to.  If I don’t – I am being fake.  And my hair, nails, and tan might be fake – but my heart isn’t.  So I am going to be vague to protect myself.  But just hear what I am saying.

I witnessed corporate bullying.  Not on myself – or my co-workers – so no worries there, but nonetheless.  I saw it.  And I never have seen such a spectacle in my life.  I have never been so shocked – embarrassed and hurt for the people it happened to – the level of empathy I had was out the roof.  And I thought bullying was something that kids did in a school yard.  Not in a workplace.  So I write this, to say this.  If you ever partake of “corporate bullying” – you are no better than a child in a schoolyard.  In every environment that I have ever worked in – people discuss business like people.  Intelligently, calmly, with action plans in place. To me, that seems to be the right way to do it.  Never is public humiliation, or bullying an acceptable plan.  Ever.

So I am writing this, hoping to change one heart.  Just one.  If someone reads this who believes that is a proper form of business – reevaluate.   You will never gain the respect of other people, by public shaming.  Because guess what?  Not one person will be on your side.  Every single person will feel for the person visibly shaking and trying to maintain a businesslike composure.  That is the people who are classy – the ones when provoked – who stood firm.  I don’t know if I could do the same.  To be honest, I am sure I couldn’t.

And if you have experienced bullying as an adult or child – remember – It is not you.  They have something, within themselves, to where that is the only way they feel powerful.  And if you can keep from screaming, feel bad for them.  I wish I could say I feel bad for them – but not yet – I am still mad.

I’m ending this with a video of my vacation – because it was awesome – and remember what relaxing and being thankful is about.  And remember – you never know what someone is going through – use your words carefully.

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That sounded quite philosophical in it’s own right didn’t it?  The decay of the nation… our horrible society… blah blah blah.  But what I am really writing about – is me.  My face.  Who I am.  A lot of you guys have known me for years.  Some of you – recently.  Some of you – have never met me.  But let me give you a little background.

Fifteen years ago – I was a completely different person.  I didn’t wear makeup.  I didn’t have a “hair style” per se.  I was overweight.  And frankly,  I felt like I didn’t deserve any better.  Now – that being said, I wasn’t some depressed, emo, sad sack type of person.  I was kinda factual.  I had become overweight – so there was no point in buying flattering clothes – because I thought I would never look good in them anyway.  I didn’t wear makeup – same reason.  Hair – same reason.  I was just super duper plain.

Fast forward a few years – I met a girl who become my best friend ever.  She kinda had an intervention with me.  She told me to get my own sweats – and quit wearing my husbands.  She took me out and got me first “cutesy” sweatsuit.  And I say sweatsuit, because there was no way I would wear anything but that.  And guess what?  I had a shape – some might call “hourglass”.  It might have been a yearly hourglass – but hourglass, nonetheless.

Fast forward again.  I lost the weight.  Started getting into clothes.  Was much more confident.  I began working out.  I was more active.  I had great people in my life.  I was happy.  And then… we all know what happened.  I went to bed blissfully happy.  I woke up in a nightmare that I thought would never end.

There was a lot of self reflection that happened over that next year.  First,  I really embraced the aspect of “you only live once.”  I don’t mean that in a reckless way – I mean it in a – seize the day, type of way.   I always loved edgy clothes, hair, makeup, all of it.  Whether I looked like it or not – I always got Cosmo – was intrigued by fashion shows… I loved it – but was embarrassed to love it because I felt like people would think… “Ummmm…. really?  She doesn’t look like it… ”  And, in turn – I would be made fun of.

Guess what?  Make fun of me.   Don’t like my clothes?  I do.  Don’t like my makeup?  I do.  Don’t like my accent?  I do.  Don’t like my tattoos? I do.  Don’t like my Jeep? Then we can’t talk.  I kid.  But, you get what I’m saying.

I feel like through my outward appearance:
1.  I am showing my resilience… because I have a lot of it.  I am a fighter.  I believe life can never defeat me – unless I allow it.  No outcome of any situation will control me.  I am tough.
2.  I am happy.  Not to sound like Pharrell… But I really am.  I mean, my life is far from perfect.  But I am really, and truly deep down happy.

I want my outside to match the insides…And I do that through makeup and clothes.  It’s my thing.  I don’t see any problems with my face without it.  I just like it.  It’s like creating a painting – on yourself. 🙂

So — here’s a video of the whole process…. Sped up.  If you have any questions… Let me know.   Hope you enjoy – And get a little more of who I am !

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I am the mom to a fourteen year old boy, and 10 year old girl, and a three year old little boy.  I love my children in many different ways.  My oldest was my first child, he grew up with me in a way.  My daughter came next, and she is like my little mini me.  And then Jacoby, the baby.  The child that I am in complete awe of, everytime I look at him, because I know just how precious he is.  And I know, after having two before him, how fleeting this time is in his life and to appreciate the moments.

But tonight, I am talking about my oldest.   I have never been a fourteen year old boy.  I can’t imagine what that is like.  I have never had divorced parents.  I never lost a parental figure.  I never was a stepchild.  My son, has experienced more in his fourteen years more than I have, in many ways.  And for the most part, he is a well mannered, well spoken young man.  Does he do things that drive me absolutely crazy?  More than you could ever know.  But does he have a good heart? The best.

I am writing this because he has weighed on my heart a lot lately.  I moved him across the country – and he was willing to go.  He started a new school, that is triple in size than the high school that he would have went to, and he went with a smile.  No fear.  His first day of school – he didn’t have a schedule.  He went with a smile.  I have never been as strong as that kid.  He has seen more in his fourteen years than many people in the US see in their lives.  He has experienced more pain, and pain of his family, than I ever came close to.  And he still does it with a smile.

So what I am saying, Is I am thankful.  Thankful for the resilience of a child.  Thankful for all that he has taught me.  Thankful for the trips we have went on together.  The adventures we have had.  And I look forward to the many to come.  I have not been the perfect parent, I wish I had.  I have learned a lot with him – and I know that I am a better parent to Bella because of it, and even better to Jacoby.

To be honest, on June 22, 2011 – Tariq was a little boy.  On June 23, 2013 – he was almost a man.  Overnight he grew up – literally.  And he has never been the same.  I think, at times, I have expected a lot from him, because of how adult he can act.  Which makes me sometimes forget, that he is still a kid. Learning.  Figuring things out.

So this post is for my son.  I love you Tariq.  To the moon and back again – and I know I am not the perfect momma.  But you are most definitely the perfect son.  And God blessed me so much by giving me  you.  I love you baby…. More than you could ever know.  And I just felt like you should know it too!