Unapologetically grown.
When my friend Tye asked what I expected in the New Year, I felt an uneasiness in my stomach that rendered me speechless. I hadn’t given the subject much thought. The previous year was filled with so much of the unexpected that it cautioned me not to presume what the totality of a new year might be. Then it hit me: the only difference between December 31and January 1 is one day.
The holiday season is in full E-F-F-E-C-T. Whether that means making an appearance at your office holiday party, shopping or spending time with your family and friends you want to look festively fabulous.
When the axle decided to disconnect itself from my car, I had a meltdown. Right there, in the middle of the street. I had a meltdown. In the midst of my meltdown, I called one of my praying sister friends. I told her, I could not take one more unexpected mishap to spiral me into a financial or spiritual crisis. She told me that the only way to combat spiritual warfare is to say a prayer of gratitude.
One thing I continue to learn is that the level of passion a woman exhibits for her work shows the difference between a woman walking on purpose and one merely existing.
Several years ago a co-worker introduced me to the concept of “The Five Year Plan”. Her new daughter-in-law vowed not to have children during the first five years of marriage because it was not part of the couple’s Five Year Plan. They wanted to establish their marriage before adding kids to the equation. Hearing that philosophy opened my eyes. I was about to enter my thirties but lived without planning anything more long-term than my impending nuptials. That was the moment I started creating goals for myself. They started small. Now I am moving forward, in the direction every beautiful, strong and powerful Black woman should.
Thursday nights, you can catch me, on the couch tuning into Grey’s Anatomy. When Meredith Grey, a young intern on the show asked Doctor McDreamy to choose her, I screamed at the television, “Don’t wait for him. Choose you!” For me, this scene was far more than scripted television melodrama courtesy of Shonda Rhimes . Grey’s plea resonated with me. It reflected a longing sometimes heard within my own heart: wanting someone to choose me. Over time, I have learned the power of turning this from a question to an affirmation: I choose me.
October is Domestic Violence Awareness month. Movies like “The Burning Bed” and “What’s Love Got to Do With It?”, an abundance of books and even the O.J.Simpson trial brought this ugly secret out of hiding. Despite these events, domestic violence is still a reality for too many women. As shown in this CNN I-Post from yesterday, some people think the situation is laughable. 40Muse.com contributor Kimberly A. Collins debunks the sorry lie behind domestic violence.
At one point in my life if you asked people in my circle, “Who is Dori Ray?” you would get a variety of responses: Successful. Excellent mother. Community activist. Dependable daughter. Howard University alumna. Budding entrepreneur. In public I was certainly all of those things. I got dressed each morning, put on one of those personas and left my house tired, broken, depressed and everyone was clueless. I continued this charade for years. However, maintaining the act was exhausting. I started each month with less strength and energy than the one before.
July 17, 1996. That was the night TWA Flight 800 crashed into the Long Island Sound. I did not know any of the 230 passengers aboard the ill-fated jetliner, yet after hearing the reports on television and reading the accounts in the newspapers my tears would not stop. I cried during the bus ride to work. My eyes welled up with tears as I emptied the dehumidifier. I got a lump in my throat when answering the phone at work. It was more than an expression of empathy for the victims and their families. The event seemed to unlock a much deeper sadness within me.
Michelle Obama is my patron saint. I have bowed before her image many times: that cover of Vogue, the Naeem Khan gown at the first state dinner of this term, the white evening gown during her visit with Queen Elizabeth. Then there was last night at the Democratic National Convention in Charlotte, North Carolina.