Diary of A Mad, Interesting Woman

Welcome to the random (and sometimes ratchet) ramblings in my head about life, love and pop culture.

Tag: passion

What I Know For Sure

Birthday Reflections & Ish Like That …

So … #ThisIs38

A few years ago I was included in the “What I Know For Sure” section of O Magazine and I shared perspective on not being defined by the roles we lead (i.e. mother, sister, daughter, etc.), but prioritizing and nourishing your individual spirit and soul in order to be the best you can for everyone else (and I’m paraphrasing in case some of yall are still holding on to your copies). As I learned recently at #Blogalicious9, “you can’t pour from an empty cup.” Hallelujah and moment of silence for that little piece of wisdom …

Today is my born day (one time for #ScorpioSeason) and I can’t help but consider what I know for sure at this point in life. Seems that I’ve recently been involved in lots of deep conversation with girlfriends, my Hubby Honey, my Mama, my Boss and others about the lessons I’ve learned and the level of “sureness” I feel cloaked in these days. More important, it wasn’t a magical occurrence that just happened to me. My “sureness” is the result of intent. I’m living my life like its golden and operating within a level of freedom that I don’t think I’d ever experienced before now. I made the choice to be happy, to believe in myself and to throw a (metaphorical, and at times, tangible) middle finger to distractions. I’m living a life that I’m proud of and truth defined by me and only me. I. Am. So. Free.

As I celebrate this 38th *ahem* year of my life, here’s what I know for sure:

  • I no longer require any form of external validation to inspire or empower my internal thoughts, beliefs or ideas. For years, naturally, I sought approval from my friends, needed my lover(s) to assure me that I’m pretty, needed my managers to validate my smart thinking and my family to champion my tireless role as protector and provider. The expectation and necessity of the validation was so subtle that it took me a long time to pinpoint it was there. It drove me to seemingly inconsequential insecurity that metastasized into anger and resentment when I didn’t receive it. I finally decided I don’t need it. It was a cross too heavy to bear. Removing the focus from receiving my validation externally and empowering that positive energy inside has been likely one of my greatest rites of passage as a woman. Doing so has created this powerful level of self-awareness, self-love and self-confidence. It’s been one of my wisest intentional moves.

  • I’ve created healthy boundaries (for the most part) in my personal and professional relationships. For example, my loved ones (which include my Hubby Honey, Parents, Siblings, Girlfriends and extended family) are my lifeblood. In this life, it has been a privilege, and at times, a burden to serve them. It’s cost me peace of mind more often than I can reasonably quantify and I realized that it is 100 percent MY FAULT. We show people how to treat us, and too often, we operate within our familiar roles at unsustainable levels. Your loved ones don’t intend to overstep or abuse your over-commitment, but it happens. And it was happening to me. A LOT. So, I took a step back about three years ago and began to redefine my role, my expectations, my preferred level of commitment and the healthy level of reciprocity I needed within my familiar relationships. Doing so has freed me to support my loved ones absent of guilt, resentment, fear or worry. And, if someone doesn’t agree with my level of interaction or commitment, I leave that as a cross for them to bear. Cause as my Nik Nak taught me long ago – “What you eat don’t make me sh*t”. Word.

  • My heart is big. My tongue is sharp. My patience is thin. I’m extremely passionate (a true Scorpio). And, I’m funny as hell. I used to be reticent to say that about myself because it felt obnoxious to speak it, but no more. *picks up megaphone* I’M FUNNY AS HELL! Maybe not stand-up comedian funny, but I’ve been known to draw a crowd and bring down the house. #realtalk … my inner spirit is doing THIS most of the time …

Moving on …

  • I have a new found spiritual connection to my sexuality and pride in my body image that has skyrocketed my confidence. It’s not JUST about my looks (though your girl is killing it these days with this snatched waistline and size back to what I was in high school *hair flip*), but rather my internal confidence, keen self-awareness, my energy and this connection to a sense of … “knowing” about myself. My Grandma Mable used to say to me, “One day you just gone know what you know.” I never really understood that until now. Today, I own my confidence without shame, fear, ego or vanity. It’s my truth. It’s just as real as breathing.

  • I love being a woman, and more specifically, a black woman. There’s the fun stuff about being a girl like dressing up, makeup, all things shiny and sparkly, etc. But being a black woman comes with this Herculean strength, unicorn-level magic, enviable sense of wit, epic ability to clap back and shade and multidimensional talent. I am every woman and I BAWSE up in every gawt damn aspect of my life. Boardroom, bedroom, kitchen. I cooks, Baby. While my awareness to this perspective has been slow, my pride and ownership of it is SO here and SO real for me right now. I believe its actual tangible energy that even others feel when they are with me. I’m beaming in the skin I’m in. And loving every minute.

  • My relationship with God is real and tangible. It used to feel mythical. Perhaps because it was the product of the articulation of other people’s experience with Him. Today, we have our own vibe. My Jesus is trill! He MUST be because He created me and I stay on level trill at ALL times. I can feel Him … tangibly feel Him, hear Him and sense Him in all that I do. It’s pretty incredible. There’s not a moment I’m not mindful of Him, chatting in my mind with Him and hearing His response. I’ve tapped in and He’s reciprocated in the most beautiful fashion. It’s provided a much-needed compass as I carry two of my most important roles: Wife and Mom. And it’s endeared me to Him in such a personal way. #IluhGod #youdontluhGod #whatswrongwithyou

So … here I am! Big, bad and bold AF (said in my Ike Turner “What’s Love Got to do With It” voice – LOL). Loving myself and every aspect of my journey. I regret nothing. I’m present in every moment because I don’t want to miss a thing. And with that comes a continual birth of my being … which I am SO here for.

#ThisIs38

And many mooooooooooooooooooooooooore 🙂

Love You. Mean It.

@AskThePRGirl

The Warning Shot Heard ‘Round the World & Other Insecure Ish

I’m not a traditional recapper of episodes giving a play-by-play of what happened so if that’s what you’re looking for, I’d check for another blog. I DO appreciate a good post episode query to ensure I’m not in these skreets thinking these thoughts by myself. Mmmkay?  So umm … er … let’s dive on into my top five gut check moments in episode 14 of HBO series #Insecure: Hella Blows:

  1. #Hoetation – Issa ain’t about this life she’s tryna live. I mean, she really sucks at it. We all see it. It takes finesse to truly have a hoetation without your name and deeds being in the skreets. You gotta be on some “eff yo feelings, I’m gettin mine” WITHOUT alarming your “prey”. And you CAN’T be thirsty!!! She’s TOO up in her feelings, painfully uncoordinated, odd and slick destructive in her approach. Who shows up to a dude’s house that you’ve only banged once and gets mad when someone else is there? Better yet, who bangs the guy who lives in the same building?! I was taught to never sh*t where you sleep. Clearly, I’m a dying breed. Raise your hand if this is normal behavior? IF you DID raise your hand, I’m gonna need you to collect your belongings and skedaddle right the hell up off my page. We’ve talked once before about your questionable life decisions and I won’t suffer you in life or blog. I just … can’t.
  2. #BlackatWork – Lawrence encountered that good ole tokenism at work. Nothing like working with folks who absolve themselves of the privilege and supremacy collar simply because they hired a black person, but knowingly treat you with condescension-laced tolerance. Me thinks it’s learn your effing lesson day for Lawrence this season. Everywhere he turns he’s getting a nice little sermon (chapter and verse). And looks like old girl at work is here for his awakening. We shall see where they go with that.
  3. #Shade – For forever and a day, “Girl, shut yo light-skinned ass up” will remain the ultimate no clap back shade. And it’s shade that only WE can say and ONLY to a good friend who know she saying some tom f***ery to begin with. When Molly said it to Tiffany, my heart warmed. It’s one of those unspoken black girl rules that you take advantage of when you with your real girls. Yet another reason why I love this show. They always tap into the real and deliver it effortlessly.
  4. #ThatDROstroke – I hate this path Molly is traveling down. I hate the license she’s given herself to sleep with this married man simply because she woke up to real life about her parent’s very adult relationship. I hate that she’s sacrificing her relationship with a lifetime friend. I hate that she represents a woman having it all, but nothing at all. I hate that when she gets what she’s been looking for, she ignores it for the thrill of complication (I mean … nothing’s more exciting than sleeping with the guy you KNOW you ain’t supposed to be touching). I hate that she’s taking the LOOOOOOOOOONG road to happiness and threatening her ability to get there because she backtracks 10 steps for every one taken in the right direction. BUT (and I say this hating myself as I prepare to type these next lines) Dro’s stroke is nectar of the gods. My man ain’t puttin in light work, he’s literally throwing his back into it and coming with that mythical light-skinned love! You KNOW what I’m talking about! Sistas get with chocolate brothas like Daniel, Lawrence, etc., because we know that stroke is coming from deep in the hills of the motherland. Light-skinned dudes (aka pretty ninjas) don’t be in there right because they’ve been with too many girls who are happy to be with the pretty ninja and didn’t tell his a** that his stroke is terrible. Thus, he goes through life thinking he’s THE MAN and he sucks. Somehow, Dro got that “spirit of Jidenna” stroke (i.e. you start hearing “Bambi” as soon as that ninja drop his draws and your soul cries a native African scream). That be late for work stroke. That call your girls and tell ‘em you ain’t gone make it stroke. Lawd ta mercy … #IJS. She ain’t right, but the b*tch is only human.
  5. #TheShot – Now … maybe I’m wrong, but we DID hear Daniel say, “Oh sh*t! You ‘bout to make me come.” In my experience, that’s when you pull back and use your hand if you don’t want to be shot in the face or swallow. If you gone be down there working it out and puttin him on notice that you came to win, you must engage all your chakras, be listening with your ears and looking with your third eye. THAT WAY, you don’t end up … like Issa. Listen, we’re adults, right?? It’s not the most pleasant sitch. We’ve ALL been there. I’m not tryna judge Issa that it happened, but I’m slightly confused at her reaction. What did she think was gonna happen? And can somebody hip me to WHEN we start givin head to ninjas that ain’t your man or regular d***?? I missed that memo about the same way Issa missed Daniel’s warning, child. I aneono. Yet another reason why Issa need to get out these streets.

So basically, everybody is a mess and resisting any and all common sense. Right?? Mmmkay.

Well, next week looks to be a doozie with everyone meeting up and having their mess on Front Street. Jesus be a ram in the bush. These people got my pressure up in ALL the right ways and for all the wrong reasons. #issamess

Until next week …

Love you. Mean it.

@AskthePRGirl

 

*All gifs courtesy of Giphy.com and HBO

Whore

scandal

Let me start by saying I struggled with this entry for a few reasons.  For one, I didn’t know what to call it.  I juggled with “The Gray Area” and “Glass Houses”.  I even thought I might simply call it “Scandal” since that was my inspiration, but I settled on what inflamed me and pushed me to write.  I also struggled because I don’t want to come off too … too … “preachy”.  One of the reasons I blog is because I want YOU, my beloved readers, to take a look at the other side of the line.  We often draw them in our lives most times without even knowing it.  But our ability to stretch ourselves to see the other side, to try to understand the common denominator in this human experience is really what helps us to grow.  I never want to push my own agenda down your throat.  I simply want you to take a moment and consider things differently.  And so I struggled.  Because I do feel preachy and vehemently on one side of this issue, but my hope is that you hear my point and simply consider it.  That’s all.

Over the past two years, much like the rest of the world, I have become obsessed with Shonda Rhimes’ new hit television series, Scandal.  Thursdays literally can’t come around fast enough in my home.  We count down the days until it arrives with day-after-day commentary on what Shonda’s gonna do next!  Not to mention the social media conversations we’re involved in. When I say “obsessed” I mean this show has completely eclipsed all other television experiences in my world.  It’s beautifully scripted and has such a smart cast that weekly turn in amazeball performances.  I’m coo coo for cocoa puffs over Scandal!

Every day I participate in email banter with a few friends from college.  It’s our way of getting through the workday, catching up on each other’s lives and discussing entertainment hot topics.  Recently, Scandal was the topic of conversation and I was shocked to silence by the commentary.  My email buddies (both male and female) were joking around about the salacious relationship between Olivia Pope (the series main character) and her love interest Fitz (the very married President of the United States).  They traded comments back and forth about Olivia and discussed her behavior.  They made fun of the fact that she was sleeping with another woman’s husband. They casually called her “H-Olivia”.  Fitz was championed as some kind of eighth wonder of the world. A stud. A pimp.  A man whose actions commissioned virtual hi-fives and “you da man” kudos.  Olivia was simply a whore.

I read it and was still.  I hate that word (and I don’t use the word hate lightly).  I detest the ease in which the label is used to too easily summarize a woman’s sexual choices when they conflict with some abstract, antiquated view that you learned during a f*cking after school special in 1982.  I hate the way a woman’s sexual choices are scrutinized to the point that if she isn’t living the life of a nun, she’s automatically the antithesis. No ifs, ands or buts.  No gray area.  Just an automatic assessment that if a woman sleeps with the wrong person, she’s a whore.  A freaking whore, people?!

I abhor it. I can’t stand it.  It. Makes. Me. MAD. Can you tell?

I’m not sure most people even know the actual definition of the word.  I believe we have replaced it’s original meaning with our own colorful, societally enhanced, MTV infused version.  So, let’s define it.  How does good old Merriam-Webster define the term “whore”?

Definition of WHORE

1: a woman who engages in sexual acts for money: prostitute; also : a promiscuous (composed of all sorts of persons or things; not restricted to one class, sort, or person; not restricted to one sexual partner) or immoral woman

2: a male who engages in sexual acts for money

3: a venal (capable of being bought or obtained for money or other valuable consideration): purchasable; especially : open to corrupt influence and especially bribery) or unscrupulous person

So … considering her actions, and even more important, the context in the situation, does Olivia truly fit this label?

Listen, I’m no feminist.  This isn’t my virtual method of holding color posters and chanting on the corner of my state capitol building to bring awareness for this particular women’s right issue; however, the quickest way to cook my grits is to haphazardly label a woman a whore because you don’t agree with her life choices.  We live in a highly sexualized, reality-television driven, morally void, buffoonery-rampant world where people clap and laugh about things that should drive us to shock and awe every day.  How is it that in all of the crazy that has clearly desensitized our value system we are still able to look at a clearly complicated relationship situation and simply deduce that the woman, NOT THE PAIR ONLY THE WOMAN, involved is a whore?!

Here’s the thing.  I don’t agree with Olivia’s choice to sleep with Fitz.  Let me repeat for those of you loosely holding the Bible you defy daily, “I DO NOT AGREE WITH OLIVIA’S CHOICE TO CARRY ON AN AFFAIR WITH A CLEARLY MARRIED MAN.” Did you hear me? Okay … moving on.  I also do not believe her choice to sleep with him makes her a whore.  In my opinion, her choice says more about her self worth than her morals.  She doesn’t see that she deserves to be someone’s one and only.  She doesn’t see that there should never be a choice between her and someone else.  She doesn’t see that she is worth more than a brief moment by the window, a quiet moment in the hallway, a glance when no one’s looking and heavy breathing over the phone at night.  She doesn’t see it. She just doesn’t.

And can you blame her?

How many of you have listened EVERY time a man lied to you and slept with him anyway? How many of you allowed him to pick that fight with you knowing good and damn well he was going to carry his ass to the next woman’s house THAT NIGHT? How many times have you told yourself that the relationship would get better? How many times have you allowed yourself to be disappointed even though everything in your being is telling you to walk away? How many lies have you told yourself to keep believing? What did he tell you to get you to come back? What did he say to make you think things would be different?  How did you square it with your soul knowing NOTHING would change?  What did you tell yourself so that you could sleep at night?  Remember when you pulled out that sad ass R&B album and put Tamia’s “Officially Missing You” on repeat feeling like the ONLY thing that could right the wrong of his absence is his voice … his touch … his presence?  How many tears have your cried? How many times have YOU spread eagle hoping your “sweet stuff” would be the cherry on your “I’m about to land this man” sundae?  How many people have you slept with? How many secret conversations or flirtations have you participated in because someone at the office or in the Starbucks line is giving attention that your husband or significant other has long stopped giving?  How many times have you batted your eyelashes to get out of a ticket, get an extra dollop of whip cream on your iced mocha or conjure a free cocktail while out at the club?  How many times have you laid down and given your body to someone you KNOW is not your forever?

Someone unworthy of you …

Someone who knew just the right thing to say …

Someone who somehow speaks to that place deep inside that no one else can reach …

Someone that makes you forget …

Someone that makes you forgive …

Someone who silences your subconscious …

Someone whose force is bigger than anything and everything your soul has ever connected with  …

Even. Though. It’s. Wrong.

He or she among you without sin, please step forward and throw the first stone.

I’m not going to lie to you.  If I were Olivia and was in love with Fitz and he’s saying all of the right things and I’m feeling this incredible, soul stirring level of emotion that no other person has been able to commission in my being, I can’t lie and say that my choice would be different from hers.  I’d be wrong.  Completely morally wrong.  But I can’t say that I’d be strong enough to walk away and seek my worth given the circumstances.

Years ago I was in a relationship that was much like Olivia’s relationship with Fitz if you take away his devastatingly good looks, his position of power, his swag and … his wife.  I loved this man.  I would do anything for him.  For me, matters were complicated even further because he was my first … everything.  The first man I gave my heart, soul and body to.  What I received in return was lies and complications.  Things between us would be SO good until they were almost unbearably bad.  And they were bad ALL the time.  But, I loved him.  He could have told me the sky was purple and I would’ve fought anybody who told me he was crazy.  I knew he was no good for me.  He cheated on me repeatedly and would create fights to make his indiscretions my fault.  Somewhere in my mind, I knew he was no good for me, but I couldn’t find the strength to leave him.  I was worried that he’d “straighten up and fly right” (as my Grandma would say) with the next woman.  I was afraid that he was all I deserved.

One night I literally sank to my knees in the shower and prayed while sobbing.  I told God that if He didn’t show me the path to leave, that I would never go.  I wasn’t capable of choosing what was right.  I prayed that He would give me the wisdom to see (and seek) my true worth.  I prayed that He would send me the “forever guy” and give me the wisdom to identify him.  Two weeks later, I met my husband … and thankfully, I was strong enough to let go of my reckless past.

I bare that part of my soul because it’s important to understand that the “gray” area in life is real and common.  I know we like to believe the covenant of marriage makes it very black and white, but sadly it doesn’t.  And it’s presence (i.e. marriage) certainly doesn’t make “the other woman” involved a whore. Adulterous. Yes.  Immoral. Yes.  Absent of self worth? Definitely. A whore?! GTFOH.

Again, my goal is to simply share that it’s never THAT simple. Doesn’t mean that there aren’t clear lines of right and wrong, but the circumstances should move you to compassion not a hollow and cruel dismissal.

Seriously … considering the points I’ve made … and your own experiences … are you a whore?  Hmm … it’s probably not that simple, is it?

All the best, AskThePRGirl

The Purpose Driven Life

haley 37

I, like millions, watched Beyonce’ as she completely shut down Super Bowl XLVII this year.  I was utterly amazed by her performance.  I couldn’t believe what I was watching.  It was so clear this beautiful, talented, strong, provocative woman is living within her purpose.  She is at that kismet point when your passion, purpose and opportunity all intersect to create something otherworldly.  While watching her strut all over the Super Dome stage, I said to myself, “Hmpf, so this is what it looks like when you are operating within your purpose.”  It was really cool to see someone doing exactly what she was born to do.  She is perfection not because she’s perfect, but because she is authentic.

Last night on her HBO documentary Life Is But A Dream, Beyonce’ shared her heart.  She showed the world that she’s just like the rest of us.  She experiences fear, anxiety, emptiness, exhaustion, frustration, anger and sorrow.  She feels unsure at times.  How crazy is that?! Beyonce’ feels unsure?!  I think most of us believe that if we had her body, talent and weave there’d be no room for fear.  But she’s human.  And even though she is living what we view as the perfect life complete with money, a superstar husband with swag for days and people at her beck and call, she still experiences deeply vulnerable moments.   It’s a lesson to us all to remember that public figures are people who are living within their dreams.  They are no different than we are.  That’s hard to imagine when you’re living Michael Jackson or Whitney Houston’s level of fame, but … look how those stories ended.  It was their human moments that revealed the most about them.  I’m honored by Beyonce’s decision to share her inner thoughts with everyone, particularly women.

When the documentary ended, I found myself extremely emotional.  I ended up in a deep, five-hour, all night heart to heart with my husband about my own fear, anxiety, emptiness, exhaustion, frustration, anger and sorrow.  Mostly we talked about my dreams and my fear that they’ll never come to fruition.  Here’s a little insight into my … brain: I have a tendency not to speak out loud those things that I really want in this life.  Let me explain what I mean by that.  I know that words have power (the Good Book tells us that).  When I speak my dreams aloud, several things happen that render me paralyzed:

  • The responsibility to take steps to make the dream happen (i.e. doing the work necessary to help it all come to pass)
  • The fear that I’ll be shamed if/when people are aware of my dreams and judge my ability to make them happen
  •  The fear that my dreams will come true … and what that will mean for my life and my relationships

I’ll give you a small example.  I left a powerhouse public relations agency in 2010 after a very contemptuous relationship.  I didn’t feel supported. I was a new mother and I needed the freedom and autonomy to be available to my family while still working within the field that I love.  Not 30 days after leaving my job, I started Haley Communications Group.  Now, most people would have shouted that from the rooftops.  The more people who know, the greater opportunity to sign new clients and create new business opportunities, right?  Not me.  I hid it.  I didn’t even create a Facebook page to announce until I had already been operating for over a year.  Why? What if I failed?  What if this was a big fluke and I made no money?  What would people say about me if it turned out that I considered myself smart enough to run my own business, but in actuality my business was a big freaking flop?  A pipe dream.  That judgment and possibility of ridicule kept me silent.  I can’t fail in front of people.  I can’t bare that side of myself to people!  I don’t want people to look at me and think, “Hmpf. I knew she was all talk. I figured it was all smoke and mirrors.  She’s a pretty face.  Nothing more. Moving on.”  That fear of judgment keeps me up at night.  It is the crossroad at which I constantly stand.  Do I shout my dreams to the world and take the leap no matter what the result?  No matter what people say?  Or do I keep my dreams inside and keep pacing along in life at what I’m good at, but have absolutely no passion for?

One of my mentors once told me that I would be a force to be reckoned with when my purpose and passion align with the right opportunity.  I couldn’t even receive his words because I’d already convinced myself that it’s not in the cards for me.  I hadn’t even tried and had already counted myself out!  How incredibly insecure!?!  But that’s my truth. I count myself out without even trying.  Judgment from others paralyzes me.  Feeling ridicule or shame paralyzes me.  I have all of these BIG dreams and goals of empowering women and using my voice to change the way we think about self and the way we love each other.  But I have done nothing, and I do mean nothing, to operate within that purpose other than run my mouth to my friends.  It makes me sad sometimes.  I even get angry with myself sometimes.  But fear is … seductive and comfortable.  It speaks so much louder than my purpose most days.  But recently, I’ve been feeling a little brave.  I feel like it’s time to breakup with fear.  We’ve been in a relationship for far too long.  I’ve given fear my all and she’s given nothing in return.  That ends now.

For as long as I can remember I’ve been different.  I’ve always felt different from other people.  I think differently.  I consume information differently.  I analyze information differently.  I love differently.  There’s been this … this … “thing” there that made me aware that I’m not quite like other women.  I don’t say this to sound arrogant or “I’m better that you”.  I say it to reveal that this “thing” has been percolating in my spirit since my very first memory in life.  As the years have gone by, and my relationship with God has become more and more intimate, I now know that the feeling that I’ve been experiencing is the birth and development of my purpose.  I was blessed to be awakened to it at an early age and I’ve spent years introspectively learning what marrying myself to my purpose would mean for my life.  I’ve always been the type to apply for the “impossible” job and align myself with the “impossible” opportunities. Ironically, I’m fearless on paper.  I applied for a job at Tyler Perry Studios every day for a year in hopes that I’d get a call back.  I never did and ever so often, I still send in my info because like the lottery, you can’t win if you don’t buy a ticket.  I’m able to be fearless in many areas of my life, but not with my dreams.  Crazy, right?!

Oprah often speaks about having the courage to dream.  My husband says, “Shoot for the stars because even if you miss, you’ll land on the clouds … and that aint bad.”  How many of you are allowing fear to cripple you?  How many of you haven’t even taken the first step to your dreams because you’ve already counted yourself out?  *raises hand*  Well, no more.

Let today be the day you shout to the heavens ALL of those things that you want from this life.  This life isn’t a dress rehearsal.  If you leave tomorrow, will they play Beyonce’s “I Was Here” at your home going?  What will people say about you?  I’m afraid that my loved ones and colleagues will say, “She could’ve been something amazing.  Wonder why she wasn’t?”  Don’t give anyone the opportunity to say that about you.  More importantly, don’t accept that for yourself.  If Beyonce’ has insecurities even with her infinite, amazing stardom surely it’s okay that you do.  The difference between us and her, is that fear doesn’t have the last word in her conversation.

Let’s start living this life with no regrets.  Let’s kick fear in the balls and send it back to the pits of hell.  Let’s go for it.  ALL of it.  Whatever it is, no matter how crazy it sounds, I’m with you.  Tell me your dream and I’ll pray with you that God imparts the exact path to making it happen.  What do you want from this life?  I challenge you to stop telling yourself that you’re too old, not smart enough, not pretty enough, not talented enough, not unique enough.  I’m here to tell you that YOU ARE ENOUGH.  Write down your dreams and speak them aloud to yourself EVERY day.  Words have power.  The more you speak them, the more you tilt the universe towards you.  The more you speak them, the more you believe them.  The more you speak them, the more God reveals the path.

Fear no more.  Go do the impossible.  And if there is not one soul around to tell you that they believe in you, allow me the honor to be the first.  Hear / feel me when I say:

I. Believe. In. You.

Love you. Mean it.  ~AskThePRGirl

P.S. Life IS but a dream … but ONLY when you’re living in your purpose.  🙂