Here We Are, In Love. Part 1

February 19, 2021 by Teka

“I’m pretty sure this counts as a first date, right?” I’m gently stippling concealer under my eyes, brush in my right hand, heavy pour of cabernet sauvigon in my left. It feels silly, but the effort I’m putting into sitting in front of a computer screen is unexpected. But this was dating at the top of the 2020 COVID19 Pandemic. We were on lock down, but my swiping finger was not.

March 15, 2020 — I’m driving back to Richmond from Maryland, still glowing from an amazing girls’ weekend celebrating one of my best sister-friend’s 30th birthday. Not only was I on the heels of transitioning from unemployed to fully employed, I was also in expectancy of 2020 being OUR year! My friend group had BIG plans for weddings, babies, and majority of our 30th birthdays — so much to get excited [and save money] for! I had no clue that when I stepped foot in my apartment, I wouldn’t leave because the whispered conspiracy of a virus named after a beer would become an international trauma starter.

So what to do? We are stuck in the house, I’m single and learning to work from home (WFH) in a newly minted leadership position, with little company outside of Tiger King, podcasts of all genres, and my dog (RIP Prince Charming). Well, I reactivated my online dating profiles. In my mind, we were all in the house and had nothing to do but talk to one another, right? And I’m sure I’m not the only one looking to start a dating roster, Issa D style. Logging into this [unsponsored] dating app, I created what I viewed as my perfect profile. Equipped with witty personality, warm smiles, and flirtatious poses to catch the eye and intellect of my Mr. Right Now.

Now, historically, I’d create a profile, talk to a few gentlemen until they either fizzled out due to lack of interest or ghosted messages, then deactivate for another quarter or entire season. Yes, I’ve been ghosted. So I wasn’t expecting to ACTUALLY have dates proposed during a pandemic! But these men were CREATIVE. I mean, if it wasn’t a phone call or FaceTime (because catfish isn’t just a southern delicacy), they’d inquire my CashApp to pay for a dinner date or even set up movies on Netflix Party. How was it I was being pursued better on lockdown than when the world was open?! Yes, sis. It was fun but also interesting … the therapist in me analyzed each move.

We had no other options. And the safety of our own homes disarmed most dates. There wasn’t immense pressure to “show up” a certain way, the screen protected us from clumsy or embarrassing moments, and we could easily “block” if the date didn’t go as planned. And I LOVED it! I could FaceTime with “John” while we both WFH, text “Joe” in between meetings, and have a virtual movie date with “Jake” later that night! Your girl was in the best dating season of my entire life — what I didn’t expect was a friendly guy with genuine conversation to be the last man standing 3 months into my dating season.

Part 2 Coming Soon …

Vibe Tunes ATM:

Curious x VanJess | My World x Asiahn

Leaping in Faith

February 27, 2020 by Teka

I sat on the bathroom floor at my job and wept. Hard. Like snot and sobbing, eyes red, hyperventilating. I was in a space of fear, frustration, and fatigue that I had never felt before. Was this an anxiety attack? Was I panicking? Was I breaking down??? I needed grounding, I needed support in that moment. On the phone with a close friend, I repeated how exhausted and stressed I was, overwhelmed and unfulfilled. I had reached my breaking point. Sent home to take a self-care day and gather myself, I had plenty of time to nap and reflect on that moment. This was one heck of an experience. And in that experience I made a decision for my present and future self. I needed a sabbatical.

In the back of my mind, the same gentle whisper that I’ve heard before, repeated the same affirmation: “you’re too creative for this”. You see, for weeks, probably months, I felt this nudging from The Spirit. You know the place your mind goes when you picture yourself truly fulfilled in your purpose AND profession? The days of creating in your divine power and leading an impact that changes lives? My mind and heart would follow that voice, seduced by the prophetic image of my best self living my best life. I knew it was for me, eventually. Little did I know I had been taking leaps of faith in that direction my entire life.

I can recall many times when I leaped out on faith and into God’s arms. Whether it be applying to grad school, accepting a new job, moving to a new city into my first solo apartment, or even leaving my full time job. But faith isn’t just about those grand or larger than imagination gestures. Leaps of faith happen in the daily moments we trust Him: waking up and placing our feet on the ground, driving to and from a job daily, grocery shopping and meal prepping for the long week ahead, investing in our self-care, connecting to new friends and professional colleagues, even the calls we make to family to express our most beautifully vulnerable and highest selves. Every day we breathe is a journey of faith, trusting that we have another day to live out purpose.

Now, is trust easy? HELL NO! (sorry mom) The same way I can recall days of faith and anticipation, I can remember crying myself to sleep and waking up with a sore jaw from clenching my teeth in my nervous slumber. Or tearfully paying a bill, unsure if God would provide for the next one (spoiler alert: HE ALWAYS COMES THROUGH!). Or even humbling myself to release the “strong friend” façade and lean on my tribe to journey with me and support me in transitioning times.

The ebbs and flows of life require one thing: surrender.

I had to surrender, DAILY, to God’s plan (cue Drake bop). I had to surrender, DAILY, to rest. I had to surrender, DAILY, to living in the present and remaining God conscious. In moments where I felt I should be working harder than ever and running around trying to make ends meet, I had to say, “God, I’m Yours”. Moments where I wanted to give up and avoid taking steps towards my highest self and dream, I had to say, “God I’m Yours”. Times where I was skeptical, and doubtful, and scared … I had to say, “God, I’m Yours”.

It’s in the surrender that we experience the true breath of leaping in faith.

So, all of that to say, I quit. I submitted my letter of resignation and quit the “big girl job” that I was the catalyst to one of my many leaps of faith into moving to a new city into my first “big girl apartment”. December 27th, 2019 marked the last day at my full-time job. If you follow me on IG, I posted a picture to my stories in the very moment I left the office — standing outside my parked car, packed full of office belongings. In that moment I honestly felt a sense of relief — I knew that I was walking in what some may call “crazy faith” towards what was calling my name louder than before, and I had to follow.

In the days following that faith leap, I was ELATED. I entered into 2020 with a sense of strength and readiness to prepare for what God had next — little did I know He wasn’t operating on my time table. Six days into the new year and my part-time job, meant to be a buffer along with my savings, sent an email that informed me that I was going to have fewer hours than anticipated, basically leaving me without a back-up. Wow, God. I planned to leap in faith with a parachute, and then THIS!? In retrospect, is it faith if we have a parachute?

The human in me PANICKED. I was living on savings and a prayer at this point. But just two days before this email, I had enrolled into a course called #AccessYourCrown by Tanesha Grant-Keita. This course that I was aligned with is meant help me master myself, my story, and my purpose. Would I have been able to enroll in a six-week course if I was employed at an emotionally draining job? Probably. But I wouldn’t have been as present and open to the fullness of what the course entailed and required: showing up for myself. #GodBeKnowing

So when I received the work email, yes, I was stressed, but I also had to talk to my highest self and recognize the opportunity, not the challenge, of this moment. I had TIME. Time to focus on sitting at God’s feet, taking care of my soul, nurturing my frayed emotional edges, and drinking my water. ;)

I spent December 27th 2019 to present day taking the course, reading books (check out Atomic Habits by James Clear — it’ll change your life), listening to music of all genres (especially gospel — check out Volume 100 of @SimpleWednesday), cleaning my physical environment for mental hygiene, and connecting with my tribe.

My tribe. God, I thank You for my tribe. My closest friends and family showed up for me during this time in a way that I will NEVER forget. I leaped and it seemed like they were cheering me on along the clouds. Sending me encouraging texts and emails, resources for my personal development, books on books on books, journals to conceive dream ideas, connections to colleagues in the field walking the path that I’m desiring, and so much more. They showed me how surrender to God is allowing Him to show up through the vessels He placed in my life. I used to feel like I HAD to be the strong friend and shelve my needs, when really, that’s the opposite of life’s intention. I was meant to share those needs, allowing my tribe and I to make space for and support each other. It’s a space I’ll never take for granted. We are an ecosystem, and without each other, we fail to truly live.

And the most important step I took: praying. I had to reignite my communication with God, to really KNOW His voice in order to trust the process. Surrender isn’t about the leap alone, it’s also about the journey. I had to seek His guidance EVERY STEP OF THE WAY. And without talking to Him, I would’ve truly been lost. My prayers would be journal entries, tears, lyrics of songs, or even thoughts in my quiet time. It seemed like no matter the method, He listened with a longing ear, eager to hear from His daughter and ready to hold a sacred space for He and I to commune.

And today, here I am.

I will continue to share and use the tools that recharged me on the sabbatical I needed — the break from working for everyone else and shifting towards intentionally working for me, showing up for me. I want to share an affirming journal entry that has and will continue to keep me grounded and focused on the journey ahead, with hopes that it affirms you, too:

On this journey, I have and will have to continue to trust God, to take heed to the Holy Spirit, and trust my voice. I especially have to trust myself. Imposter syndrome is real … Even on this faith journey, I’ve had moments of doubt and self-sabotage. Believing that I’m not smart/creative/known/secure/whole enough to do what I’m called to do. But a whisper reminds me: “I am called AND qualified”. My faith will require leaps and jumps like never before, but I’m not taking those jumps alone. I have been blessed with an amazing ecosystem of sister-friends that speak to the greatness in me. They see who I already am and the powerhouse I will be. They see and call to me … and I need to respond. I realize that any self-doubt, self-sabotage, insecurity, fear, inadequacy, procrastination, and shrinking is a lie of only the enemy’s scheming brain. I release ALL of it! I radiate confidence, preparation, fortitude, tenacity, resiliency, knowledge, aptitude, intelligence, organization, and presence that shifts the atmosphere of rooms, changes lives, and impacts the world. ÀSE!

Vibe Tunes ATM:

Simple Wednesday Volume 100: He’s An On Time God

Daddy Solutions

February 19, 2020 by Teka

Warm tea with sweet milk. The Little Mermaid on the television screen. Memories of monkeys and birds and elephants and other fantasies of a child’s mind that come to life at the zoo. These are details I can recall from the last time I saw my biological father at 4-years-old. It’s also coincidentally my earliest human memory. Being with my father.

I never really acknowledged that I had “daddy issues” until about 2018 when I resumed therapy. I knew I was associating unpleasant feelings with my biological father, evidenced by me calling him “sperm donor” up until about 4 months ago. Or the way I defended not “needing” him to anyone that inquired when I shared that I had an awesome step-father. It was even in the way I anticipated a “Happy Birthday” text message from him since 2014. Oh yeah … 2014.

Twenty years after our last face-to-face interaction, a couple years after I reached out as a college freshman, he text me. November 10th, 2014 — three days after my 24th birthday and he was convinced I didn’t know when I was born. The tardiness of the birthday wish wasn’t helping his case, especially since soon after the conversation shifted from my celebration of life to him sharing that his mother was sick with cancer. A trigger point. A hook. I didn’t know how to feel: empathetic, concerned, saddened, prayerful? I was still processing the fact that he reached out, to me. Between 1994 and 2014, I had reached out once, texting with anticipation and hope, only to have a 20 minute text conversation ending with him wishing me well on my future endeavors — like the closing of a rejection letter from a job interview. A rejection.

The 2014 text conversation lasted a couple of hours, and that was it. Radio silence. Until November 7th, 2015, then 2016, then 2017. My birthday was the 1 of 365 days a year I heard from him. And for some reason, that scarce yet reliable contact kept me open. Open to communicate, open to forgiveness, open to him. It’s no wonder I hold on to words. If I combed through the various bait that kept me hooked in past relationships, it was the person’s words. Their absence could span days, weeks, months — hell, even years — but I’d leave a window open for the wind of their words to change the temperature of my heart towards them once more. And that openness, started with him. My father.

At a young age, I remember fingering through phone books, looking for any names that matched his so I could call and hear his voice. Tell him I wanted to see him, to go to the zoo again. As a teen, I had his cell phone number for years and decided as a college freshman, I was an adult, and no longer needed money but moments from him. I wanted to know him. So of course, even after rejection, I was sent soaring when he reached out in 2014. And dangling there from those texts I remained for years. Until 2018, when I fell flat from the silence.

I didn’t get a 28th birthday text. I waited the 24 hours of my birthday and even the week after, anticipating a belated wish. But nothing. I was honestly devastated. Telling my mother of the silence, she was relieved. In retrospect, I see how her relief was that of a mother wanting to protect the heart of her daughter from any further disappointment and harm. But in that moment, I was resentful. I longed for that contact and without it, I felt I had nowhere to turn to express my pain. Nowhere but God.

November 7th, 2018 began a shift in my relationship with God from an authority that I reverenced, to a father, Abba, that I required.

“So you have not received a spirit that makes you fearful slaves. Instead, you received God’s Spirit when He adopted you as His own children. No we call Him, ‘Abba Father’.”

— Romans 8:15 NLT

Therapy and Prayer: coexisting to hold my right and left hands as I journeyed through healing and wholeness. I didn’t recognize while I walked, but I truly had to move from needing man to fill this void to asking God to heal it. I centered my new found perspective around addressing God as such, Abba. Beloved Father. I saw Him as a protector, a provider, a confidant, an embrace, a tear wiper, a guide, a fixer, a first love, an encourager. Picture a “typical father-daughter relationship” — I shifted my perspective to seeing God in that light. I was fully known and fully loved, as His daughter. The acknowledgement and affection I was worthy of since birth, but sought after my entire life.

Now, my therapist also helped me acknowledge that the “typical father-daughter relationship” I was seeking with God, my step-father, and even my biological father, needed to be set down and replaced with acceptance that my relationships are anything but typical. Acceptance that in all of their complexities, they are exactly what I need in the moment that I am presently experiencing them. And that acceptance helped a peace wash over me that I can’t explain. I was ok. And no longer resentful that I didn’t have the storybook version of the father-daughter relationship, because that “storybook” wasn’t my story.

A year of peace keeping, perspective shifting, present living — I was ok. Life wasn’t perfect, but my 29th birthday approached and I had no expectations for a text message. I was content. And of course, that’s how life works: once you’re content and at peace, your strength is tested. He text me.

This birthday wish began in a typical fashion: a picture of flowers, wishes for a blessed year and celebration, and my response of gratitude. But it’s the follow up that changed my life.

He wanted to keep communicating. Not about his mom or whether or not I knew my birthday story. But about us. He wanted to begin a relationship.

Twenty-five years of emotion rushed in and the 4-year-old in me arrived: I cried like a baby. This was the sentiment I was leaving space for all of these years. The shield of defensive labels and dismissal all a façade — I left space for him my entire life. And God occupied it with love, preparing it for my biological father. I was spiritually and emotionally prepared for this journey.

November 10th 2019: our scheduled call date. Now the 4-year-old in me was elated! She anticipated his voice, his responses, his accent, his intrigue. The teen in me was skeptical and honestly rebellious, wanting to go in guarded and with an entitled attitude. But the adult, the evolving woman in me, went in with forgiveness and love. I knew that as much as this was a life moment for me, it was a life moment for him, too.

Hands shaking, eyes watered, heart pounding — I sat in my car and counted the seconds until our agreed upon call time. And when it rang, I answered, hearing the voice of a man my spirit already knew.

Vibe Tunes ATM:

Abba x Leon Timbo | Sacred Space x India.Arie