Life

I Didn’t Know My Own Strength

/ From My Hart / 2 Comments

strength1

[On Thursday, February 11th, I delivered the monologue below at a fundraiser for Planned Parenthood of Greater Memphis. It was such an honor to be asked to share my story. When thinking of a “title” I kept hearing Whitney Houston in my head. In her words, “I Survived my darkest hour. My faith kept me alive. I picked myself back up, held my head up high. I was not built to break. I didn’t know my own strength.”]

10 years ago. 10 long years ago. It seems like it was just yesterday. 10 years ago my life completely changed. I never knew how strong my faith was until that year. Truth be told, my family calls me “Nine Lives” because I have had more near-death experiences than I really choose to count. Yet, after each occurrence my mom and Grandmama would always tell me God has a purpose for you on this earth. They would say it’s all part of His plan.

February 27, 2006: It was my 26th birthday. My boyfriend, who lived in Chicago, surprised me in Indianapolis, my hometown. My close friend and her boyfriend treated me to dinner, and then they seemed to take the long way back to my house which I thought was quite odd. My boyfriend was in the house setting up what had to be dozens of candles and hundreds of rose petals. Needless to say….my best friend and her boyfriend didn’t stay long. Like I said….it was my birthday after all!

I had never been happier. Life was good. I had an excellent career. My family was supportive. My friends were amazing.

But all that happiness and joy came to a screeching halt on March 9th. The evening started with laughter and smiles as my youngest brother and I watched American Idol (the first round of auditions…..with all of the characters). He brought me dinner, and we relaxed and spent quality brother-sister time together.

After he left, I went to sleep. I was suddenly unusually tired. At 2 a.m. I awoke from my sleep with an indescribable pain in my stomach. See….I was pregnant and expecting my first child….a girl. It was too early to have contractions. I thought maybe my stomach was mad at me for eating the Mexican food for dinner. But the pain kept increasing by the minute.

Being the independent woman I am (and seeing as how my boyfriend lived in Chicago), I drove myself to the hospital….it was literally just across the street. Within an hour, my blood pressure dropped dangerously low, my heart rate slowed and my body temperature rose to over 104 degrees. Something caused me to become very sick….and I was on the verge of septic shock.

My doctor was forced to induce my labor because the infection had crossed into my amniotic sac. I was dying and so was my daughter. Even though I was in and out of consciousness, I still managed to remember every minute of every hour on that day…..My family arriving from all over the country….the sounds of the fetal monitors……my heart monitor beeping…..and at times, nothing but silence as time seemed to just stand still.

My doctor couldn’t perform a C-section because of the infection. I almost certainly would not have survived. After enduring more than 24 hours of labor, at 12:47 a.m. on Saturday, March 11, A’Layla Marie exited my body and entered this world as a stillborn baby. There are no words to describe that kind of anguish and pain. 

I didn’t think I could take anymore. My heart was broken….in a million different pieces. Little did I know that was just the beginning of what would become the six worst months of my entire life.

Just a few short months later, I was the victim of a head-on car collision which caused swelling on my brain and ’round the clock migraines.

Then, on August 22nd, while home still recuperating from my injuries, I received THE call no child ever wants to get. My dad had suddenly fallen to the ground in the bathroom of our family home and suffered a massive heart attack. I was forced to return to the same hospital where my daughter died only to be told my dad was also dead. I distinctly remember dropping to my knees in the Emergency Department, looking to the sky and asking God “WHY? Why me? Why my family?” Days later I remember my Grandmama reminding me, once again, that God always has a plan.

I have never vocalized what happened on that fateful day in March nor the months that followed. I’ve written about it a few times on my personal blog and Facebook but never to an audience. Despite everything we endure, God always has a way of subtly reminding us just how much strength we really have. Anyone who knows me knows I believe in divine intervention. The invitation to share my story with all of you was most definitely all God’s handy work.

Who Are Your Accountability Partners?

/ From My Hart / Leave a comment

accountability

At the beginning of this year, I knew I wanted to make some changes in my life. One of the biggest obstacles I currently face is my weight. Last year I wrote a blog about wanting to lose several pounds, but life happened and well….the weight was still around.

That weight loss goal somehow faded to black. My clothes still felt the same, if not a little more snug. I vowed not to buy any new items until I lost some weight. The good thing is I have actually stuck to that promise. The unfortunate part is I’m still wearing the same clothes. I know I really could use a new wardrobe, but that’s just not in the plan…..right now.

I live in a wonderful complex with access to a 24-hour gym. Naturally, you’d think I would go every single day especially since I didn’t have to pay a single dime. That’s just not where my head was in 2015. Even though when I looked in the mirror and wasn’t thrilled with the physical body, it still didn’t manage to motivate me enough to put on workout clothes and a sports bra. [SIDENOTE: Ladies with a large chest like mine definitely understand that struggle. It’s not exactly comfortable to have the boobage tied down that way. But I digress….]

I’m fairly certain my best friend in Indianapolis tried to convince me to purchase a FitBit for at least the last year if not longer. Well, I finally joined the team thanks to my dear friend here in Memphis who happened to have an extra one still in the box and never even used! Now, I’m so #TeamFitBit! As an extremely competitive person, I am finding myself participating in five challenges (the maximum) every single day. When I check the latest numbers, I take a walk through my office building or go to the gym to make sure I’m still in the lead or trying to grab the lead from someone else! These ladies and gentlemen have become my accountability partners, and I love it!

Having accountability partners is extremely important. Mine motivate me to go to the gym at 5:30 a.m. when I really wish I could sleep for one additional hour. Mine push me to hit my 10,000 step goal when at 4:00 p.m. I’ve only logged 8,000. Mine encourage me to laugh more. Sure, I laugh plenty, but I have some amazing people in my life who keep me genuinely laughing all day [social media and group text messages are AWESOME]! Mine truly challenge me to do better and be a better person.

Do you have accountability partners? Are there people in your circle who will not only push you to be greater but hold you accountable for each and every one of your actions….whether good or bad?

If not, I highly encourage you to reevaluate those closest to you. I promise it will make a world of a difference. Your burdens will be lighter. REAL TALK: Your blood pressure will probably be lower too! You’ll find yourself enjoying life more. So, this week…ask yourself who are your accountability partners?

As always, these are just a few thoughts “From My Hart.”

Picking up the Pieces

/ From My Hart / Leave a comment

pieces1

When I first started writing this blog post, I was still angry and perhaps even slightly bitter due to a recent situation. I, however, spoke to a couple of my friends and decided to take a completely different approach with this topic. After attending church this morning, I realized my thought process had completely evolved from a few days ago, and my heart is in a much better place now.

Let me start by saying dating when you’re 35 is NOT easy. Naturally, at this point in our lives, most women (can’t say all) would like to get married and have a child or two or three. We set our standards and open our hearts to potential suitors. In the beginning, we may date a couple of men (or women if that’s your preference) at one time to determine who would be a better match, and at some point one will lead the pack and ultimately grab our full attention.

The reality is either that man (or woman) will ultimately become our husband (or wife) or the relationship (or in slang terms “situationship”) will inevitably end. It’s the way it ends which usually is the difficult part. The woman most often times will reflect on perhaps the missed queues and/or red flags. We experience the array of emotions from anger to frustration to hurt and sadness, but it’s how we pick up the pieces following the end of the relationship which determines how (and quite frankly when) we move forward.

It’s important to experience all of the aforementioned emotions. Get it out. Scream. Cry. Talk to your friends and loved ones. Finally, pray about it. Ask God to give you the guidance and the strength. The road to healing can be a long one. Some may be okay within a few days and others may take a week or two or three or four, but you must decide what works best for you.

The details of what happened with the last man I dated are not important and certainly not for public consumption because there are undoubtedly those who may read my blog looking for them (let me take this time to wave!). Instead, I hope someone reading this will think about their last relationship. Whether you want to admit or not, you did in fact at one point have good times with your significant other. They I’m sure made you laugh, smile and fill your love tank even if just for one moment.

Someone asked me if I hate the individual I’m referencing. My answer: absolutely not. I may not like them or the things they have done, but the reality is they were evidently not the man for me. I wish them well. I refuse to feel bitterness towards them (well, I can say this now….my attitude was TOTALLY different a week ago!) because I don’t want it to hinder me from being genuine and open with my next potential mate.

As one of my dear friends said “your future husband is going to be so amazing you will do nothing but laugh at this entire situation when that time does come!”

As always, these are just a few thoughts “From My Hart.”

Chapter 2016: Free as a bird and ready to soar!

/ From My Hart / 5 Comments

hello 2016

The first day of a new year always brings the onslaught of individuals declaring New Year’s resolutions. For me, this year is much different than ones in the past. So many amazing things are already planned for 2016….from my first trip to Hawaii to flying across the country to support my brother (more on that later in a future blog post). Before I can move forward with the new year though, I must reflect on the previous 365 days in 2015.

Pros:

  • Went on my first cruise to Mexico for my 35th birthday
  • Enjoyed an amazing vacation at home in Indianapolis with my entire family, even the ones who live in London
  • My Grandmama was able to witness her great-grandson getting baptized
  • I forgave my biological father for so many things
  • Had incredible success at work and added several major items to my public relations portfolio
  • Cut off all my hair again so I could rock the curly hair
  • Mended the relationship with a couple of family members
  • Started dating someone

Cons:

  • Let my anger get the best of me in one specific situation (trust me…it was warranted)
  • Even though I tuned into the streaming services in Indianapolis, I stopped attending church here in Memphis which I regret and hope to correct in 2016
  • Attended the funeral of my mentor (continue to RIH Amos)
  • Discovered the man I was dating (see last bullet point in the pro section) had not been completely honest with me which thus led to its ultimate demise.

It’s funny because I wanted to write this blog over the last week but due to unforeseen circumstances dealing with the man I was dating, my mind just wasn’t focused on writing. I plan to change that in 2016. Writing is therapeutic for me. Yes, therapeutic. There’s nothing wrong with finding the right therapy for you. In my case, writing is what works. It allows me the ability to share what I am feeling and thinking. Will I divulge all my personal information on my blog or social media? Heck no! I honestly will probably only talk generically about situations if their personal. Otherwise, I am sure I will at some point address the everyday problems many of us face.

One of my goals for this new year is to actually lose the weight I said I would lose in 2015 in time to support my brother. I also want to write more….perhaps even a blog post once a week (that may be a little too ambitious). I want to get back into the habit of going to church. Somewhere along the way, I lost touch, and I believe it has definitely had an impact on my life.

Finally, in this new year, I want to be happy. I want to laugh more than I cry. I want to enjoy life and all the wonderful people surrounding me. If a heterosexual African-American man between the age of 32 and 40 with a college degree, a promising career in a legal field (meaning not illegal), and a relationship with God [HAVE TO BE SPECIFIC WITH YOUR REQUESTS] happens to join in my happiness along the way so be it.

I’m looking forward to these 366 days of 2016.

As always, these are just a few thoughts “From My Hart.”

Happy Anniversary to Me!

/ From My Hart / 3 Comments

happy-anniversary-1

It’s my anniversary! No, it’s not an anniversary of a marriage. It’s not an anniversary of my job. Nope, it’s not even an anniversary of a relationship.

Today is my anniversary of life.

Six years ago I became very ill. Six years ago I only weighed 115 pounds. Six years ago I thought I just had a cold. Matter of fact, we were in the middle of the H1N1 outbreak, and, for a moment, I wondered if that’s what was making me sick. Six years ago my career was my life, and I worked what seemed to be around the clock. Six years ago my brother Patrick and I were roommates.  Six years ago I woke up suddenly from my sleep in the middle of the night and discovered I was having trouble breathing. As I tried to stand up, I fell from my bed. Six years ago Patrick heard my fall from two stories below and realized I had collapsed….

Craziest thing…..the rest is very foggy to me. I remember being rushed by ambulance to the hospital. I remember Patrick calling our mom (who lived in D.C. at the time) and our Grandmama who lived not far from us.

Unfortunately though, I don’t remember all the details. Why? I didn’t realize I had gone into DKA (Diabetic Ketoacidosis for those who aren’t familiar…..it happens to individuals with Type 1 Diabetes, aka Juvenile Diabetes) and was on the verge of going into septic shock. No, the two things were completely separate issues but merged together made for the perfect storm and one of the scariest moments for my family. I was immediately put into the Intensive Care Unit and connected with every monitor imaginable. One day later, I was rushed into surgery to remove and stop an infection which literally almost killed me.

One thing I do remember is the look on the faces of my family members when they came to visit me in the ICU and subsequently once I was stable and moved to another room on a regular floor. My life nearly came to a tragic end because I pushed myself (and my body) to the limits.

So, today I celebrate! I celebrate life and all its unexpected twist and turns I have experienced in these short 35 years on this earth. I celebrate a wonderful and rewarding career in public relations which I absolutely love. I celebrate my family. I celebrate the people who are in my life and truly want to be. Most importantly, today I celebrate ME!

Happy Anniversary to Me!

As always…..these are just a few thoughts “From My Hart.”

Forgiveness is Choosing to Love

/ From My Hart / Leave a comment

Forgiveness

 

Whew. I guess it has been a minute since I published anything on my blog. I really am going to try and stick with it this time. Lord knows I have plenty to say! Well, this blog is about forgiveness and moving forward.

Three weeks ago today I received a very surprising text message from someone I didn’t expect to still have my phone number. It was a message (in any form) I had been waiting many years to receive. Let’s put a pin in that for a moment. I’ll come back to it.

Forgiveness hasn’t always been easy for me. I can admit it. I am a 35 year old woman who still struggles with forgiveness. When someone has done something hurtful or wrong to me, I tend to hold onto it and not let go. It’s almost as if time freezes, and I just can’t manage to move forward. Yet, time and time again, the pain continues to build deep in my soul and spirit. The mere mention of the individual who upset me raises my blood pressure almost instantaneously. Emotions range from anger to an uncontrollable crying spell. At times I may call a friend or two (usually my best friend Erin) or a family member. It really depends on the situation or the individual who wronged me.

Unfortunately, it never seemed to get me anywhere. I would cry, curse out loud for a few minutes (and yes, I have a potty mouth…especially when I’m angry), scream and yell. But where was it getting me? It got me nowhere other than in the grocery store buying food I had no business purchasing to mask the hurt and pain caused by someone other than myself yet I, Elizabeth Marie, was contributing to my own weight problems by consuming unnecessary calories.

Life is funny. When you see others acting a certain way after someone wronged them, we as humans are very willing to offer advice and suggestions we may have previously read in a book or a magazine. Yet, when it comes to our own livelihood, we don’t even see the obvious. We may hear advice from our friends and loved ones, but we are more than likely not listening. It usually takes something pretty drastic for the light bulb to flash and then POW, we get it. It all makes sense. At that very moment, you realize it’s time to accept what happened, move forward and forgive them. It’s not about forgiving them so they feel better. It’s about forgiving them so YOU feel better. That weight can now be lifted off your shoulders. You no longer have to be angry. You no longer have to cry. You no longer have to hurt.

Now, let’s get back to this text message.

My dad died in 2006. He was the man who raised me. He was the man who practically never missed my basketball or soccer games when I was a child. He was the man who sat proudly in the 90 degree Alabama temperatures to watch me graduate from college. He was THE man, but he wasn’t the man who was biologically my dad. He met and married my mom when I was two years old. He stepped to the plate when someone else did not.

My biological father was absent most of my life. I know who he is and have always known. He has never made a concerted effort to get to know who I am or even the kinds of food I like to eat. He doesn’t know about my past relationships with men. He was never present when I was in and out of hospitals my entire life due to a variety of reasons. He was not the man my dad was….far from it.

This is not a blog post to bash him or take inventory of all the events and moments he missed in my life. This blog post is about the text I received from him on that Friday.

For so long, I wondered why. Why doesn’t he want me? Why doesn’t he want to be a part of my life? Why did this happen to me? Is this why I have struggled with my own relationships with men? So many questions would circle my head with never a clear answer….until that Friday.

I received an apology. No, it was not a long drawn out apology making excuses for his absence. Just a simple apology for not being the father he knows he should have been. I’ll admit. I was in shock. I did not know how to react and certainly had no idea what to say in my reply. I cried. I cried for a long time. I shut down. Why now? Is he dying? Did something happen? I cried the entire weekend.

But on that Sunday, it hit me. After a gut-wrenching crying spell and long embrace from the man in my life who has been an unbelievable support system, I realized it was time to let go. It was time to accept the past for what it was. It was time for me to forgive Walter for all the moments he missed. It was time to move forward with my life.

I don’t want anything. I really have no desire to speak to him again. And I’m okay with that.  After 35 years, I finally understand why it is so important to forgive.

Until next time…….these have been just a few thoughts “From My Hart.”