As I age, I’ve realized that there are more ways to reflect on a year than to recount a laundry list of achievements. Instead, I’m considering the deeper meaning of experiences. At the end of this year, here’s what I want to share.
2024 began with a woman inviting me to speak at a women’s retreat and then disinviting me. Can y’all imagine? That was a first. Not only was I removed from the roster, but she also had her event coordinator do the deed! I haven’t spoken to her since. Back in the day, when my abandonment issues drove the bus, this would have been an opportunity for me to ruminate on all the ways I’ve been rejected. This time, I released it a little quicker. As a matter of fact, in the time that it took for these events to occur, I was introduced to another person: Tarcia Smith, host of The Adoption Journey Podcast.
Tarcia and I met virtually in February. Shortly after our first recording, we became fast friends. We live two hours away in the same state, and in less than one year, we’ve made time to visit each other seven times. Tarcia and I also traveled to Chicago, where I interviewed her for her podcast’s one-year anniversary. Later, she and I planned an event called Black Adoptees Meetup, which took place in Atlanta in October. And that podcast we did? Well, the Instagram reel is still going viral. As of today, the reel has had 220,000 views, 4,000 likes, 468 shares, and 403 saves.
But the lesson for me is beyond numbers.
I’ve learned that what’s for me is for me. When that’s the case, you don’t have to force anything. Life flows. Clearly, the women’s retreat wasn’t aligned with who I am, and I didn’t need to take the lady’s rescinded invite personally. Being introduced to Tarcia, though? That was for me on a personal and professional level. This woman has not only become a business partner, but she is also a person with whom I can confide in and laugh.
As many of you know, I completed a month-long residency in Pittsburgh in June. For four weeks, I lived in an apartment with a woman from Laredo and a man from Uganda. It sounds like a strange set up, but I wouldn’t trade this experience for anything. Apart from a couple of random girls in undergrad, my husband is the only person I’ve lived with for any significant length of time. It was cool getting to know these two people and co-creating a household rhythm. Because they’re both artists, there was an implicit understanding of when we wanted to be social and when we wanted to be left alone. This also reinforced something I’ve grown to accept about myself—I need quite a bit of space. I enjoyed making up a day that was solely for me and no one else. Though I’d learned these two things in 2022 during Monson Arts residency, this time I took it to heart and reflected on how I could make this type of life sustainable.
In November, I hung out with my childhood friends, Mika and Tim in El Paso. You may recall both names from my memoir. In the past, social mores, would have precluded me from taking a trip like this. For example, I wondered what people would think if they saw photos of me without my husband. I wondered what my husband would think about Tim and I sleeping at Mika’s house? What stories would people on social media concoct? Well, once I decided I didn’t care about any of that, I booked my flight. The three of us had a ball. We hadn’t hung out like that since high school, and it was like no time had passed. I loved being around these two friends because they were authentic, honest, and vulnerable—three things I value. We discussed heavy subjects, and then within minutes, switched to laughing about something light, like my belief in aliens. There was also very little judgement about personal morals or how we had chosen to live our lives over the last three decades. Reconvening with these two helped me to feel what type of friendships I’m willing to be a part of and which ones I can leave behind.
Finally, August, brought a major awakening that has required me to rethink how I plan to show up for myself as a woman who has fewer years ahead than behind. I won’t go into detail here, but I’ve labeled this new way of being: CHOOSING ONESELF. I’ll continue to maintain this blog because WordPress holds a special place in my heart. Here is where I’ve developed a sense of identity, community, and belonging. However, navigating a new phase requires a new space. On Substack, I’ll share curated anecdotes centered on my new life. Like, subscribe, and share if you feel so inclined. A documented journey began January 1st.
2024 was amazing for me, and I want to hear how it was for you. As we look ahead, I hope 2025 brings each of you all that you desire and all that you need 
