l began writing this piece on November 11th of this year. It is on this day of this year that I’ll have exactly thirty days left of my thirties. l’m writing this with apprehension. This feeling of weightlessness started on December 11th of the year before and has waxed and waned throughout the months that have followed. An optimist by nature, l wrestle with the notion of settled disquieted feelings in regards to my approaching birth anniversary. l have a compulsion to celebrate; particularly strong adorations for birthdays. The year has whisked by with countless opportunities to do so. It has been nothing but pure adulation witnessing my dear year mates’ gleefully ushering in forty is varied fashions. However, when it comes to my own, it sometimes feels as if it is looming; producing at times high degrees of anxiety.

My thirties have gifted me monumental strides. It is in this decade that I’d blossom in my motherhood. After confident utterances of all the “nevers,” I’d embrace stay at home motherhood. Not by chance, but by design, I’d not only embrace it, but daringly attempt to forge a different approach. And a different path we did take, our journey together over the last decade has been anything but run of the mill. And while others may decide that the unconventional road is far too much of a stray, for us it has been contemplative and fun; stretching me in ways once never imagined as a mother and a woman.

My thirties gifted me the opportunity to realize a lifelong dream, once considered abandoned. In the most unlikely of fashions, l would be contracted as a professional dancer. As a young dancer at Howard University, l made a difficult, yet seemingly necessary decision to change my academic focus from dance, opting to adopt a major that encompassed fine arts and business. After college, l’d immediately dive into the workforce. With reckless abandon, l willed myself into an environment of stability within office walls. Like forcing a peg through a square opening, emotional stability would never come. Paychecks would come. Mondays would come. Disappointment would come. But l abandoned my happiness when willfully deciding to let the dancer die. In that time l peddled along as an employee and later as a business owner before becoming a stay at home mom. Forward to many years later, sixteen to be exact, I’d get an offer to perform professionally. Sandra Organ Solis, was Houston Ballet’s first black ballet dancer in the company. After performing as a soloist for sixteen season, she would form her own company, “Earthen Vessels,” and just so happened to be my teacher on a day l went to Houston Ballet to partake in an adult class. Her offer would leave me stunned. The experience would leave me invigorated and partially healed from the heartache of a dream deferred. It was brief but glorious.

My thirties gifted me an enhanced relationship with God. My soul opened up and swallowed my faith whole, filling me with the blossoms that can only be found from seeds planted long ago. I grew up in church. Joyful, warm, and home, church would be my first platform of public speaking. Confident in my oratory skills, Sunday School teachers would trust me in delivering special announcements and speeches on celebratory days. That confidence birthed a spirit of fearlessness that resides in me today. Throughout my growth my faith never waned, yet my commitment wandered. If you’ve ever dealt with depression you would know it is all encompassing. It’s like being trapped in a hole with only wet mud walls to grip towards escape. It was in this solitude that my conversations with God would begin again. It is through this re-awakening that my world would be colored and perspectives would be changed. It is during this recommitment to growth that I would begin to seek His face in all the faces I meet. The ultimate byproduct of growth in my faith is the ability to see all things working toward good, and a trust in the timing. Which brings me back to forty….

My days are winding down and the excitement is building. It isn’t without reservation. But while many view forty as a milestone, I’m choosing to classify it as a jumping point. A dive into an abyss of clarity, brimming with wild and endless possibilities. As the time passes, there is an exchange of feeling out of depth into a surety of divine order. In the meantime, l will linger in the joy that has been my thirties, reflecting on what was and what is to come. All the while, knowing that my path has been graced at every chapter; readying for my mind to be blown once again. Onward.

Lordy Lordy...look who’s (almost, not quite yet) Forty🎉