S1 E1: Finding My Way Back To Me
I recorded my first podcast episode sitting in a work pod on my lunch break.
Not in a studio. Not in a quiet house with a perfectly planned setup. On my lunch. Because between work, being a wife, and being a mom, that was the time I had.
I get shit done where I can, when I can. And honestly, that feels like the right introduction to this whole thing.
I was showing up for everybody but myself
There was a point where my days felt like the same thing over and over. Go to work. Come home. Be a mom. Be a wife. Go to sleep. Wake up and do it again.
I used to bake. I used to craft. I used to do things because I enjoyed them. Then somewhere along the way, I stopped.
I was still doing everything I needed to do, but I felt like a robot. I was unhappy. And I started asking myself why being all these things for everybody else had to mean there was nothing left for me.
That’s where the blog came from. I wanted somewhere to tell my story without pretending I had everything together. Somewhere somebody could read a few minutes of my life and think, “Okay, it’s not just me.”
My aunt encouraged me to add audio. Because sometimes you don’t have time to sit and read. You’re doing school drop-offs, driving to practice, trying to get a walk in, or handling whatever else the day has handed you.
So now you can read it or listen. Same me. Another way to connect.
I love my life. I’m also tired.
Both can be true.
My husband and I met in 2018. I had two kids, he had two kids, and now we have a child together. Five kids and a dog. We’re figuring it out together, and every day looks different.
I love the life we’ve built. It’s something I could only dream about as a child. But loving my family doesn’t mean I never get frustrated. It doesn’t mean I don’t cry, forget an appointment, or need to go to bed early.
Sometimes my dishes stay in the sink overnight.
So fucking what? I’m tired.
That doesn’t erase the love in my house. Neither does a basketball outside, a scooter by the porch, or toys in the living room. We live here. My kids play here. We enjoy our life here.
If every moment goes toward making everything picture-perfect, when am I actually living?
I can’t just tell my daughter to show up for herself
I have to show her what that looks like.
I’ve been in and out of the tech world since 2013. I started because I needed a job after having my first son. After my mother passed away, I stepped away, went into serving, and went back to school. I needed that time.
Now I’m back in tech, applying for opportunities, speaking up, and building skills. Have all the answers been yes? Absolutely not.
But I tried. And that matters.
Being a Black woman navigating corporate spaces can be exhausting. Thinking about how I’m speaking, how I’m being received, how much of myself I’m supposed to soften. Some days it feels like I’m waking up ready for a fight I didn’t ask for.
I know my value. A no doesn’t automatically mean I’m not good enough. And I’m not interested in watering myself down just to make somebody else comfortable.
I want my daughter to see me go for things, even when I’m not guaranteed to get them. To see me keep learning. To see that showing up for yourself isn’t just something Mom says you should do.
Dusting off my Cricut was about more than making stuff
Around this time last year, I realized how much I’d pulled back from my own life. I hadn’t seen friends in months. I went to the office, went home, and had groceries delivered. I wasn’t really doing anything for me.
So I dusted off my Cricut.
Making something gives me a kind of joy I’d been missing. I can look at it and say, “Yeah, bitch, you made that.” And I did.
I’ve always been that person. As a kid, I took a black lamp I got for my birthday and sponge-painted it with blue and purple metallic paint. My mama was not impressed. I thought it was cute. I was making my room feel like me.
Years later, I got my Cricut while planning my wedding. I made bridal party tumblers, customized robes, and worked on centerpieces. It was work, but I loved being able to make those things myself.
I love making something nobody else has. I love a handmade gift. I love telling my kids to get the paper, crayons, and glue and make their friend a birthday card.
It’s the thought. The time. The fact that you made something for somebody.
And sometimes, it’s simply thirty minutes where I get to do something I enjoy.
Find something that belongs to you
It doesn’t have to be crafting.
If you used to enjoy running, start there. If you love baking, bake. If there’s something you’ve always wanted to learn, look for a class or ask around. Start with what’s available and what you can afford.
I know money isn’t something everybody has to spare. This isn’t about buying a whole new hobby setup. It’s about remembering you’re allowed to have an interest that doesn’t exist only to meet somebody else’s needs.
As adults, we’re something to everybody. But we have to be something for ourselves too.
I want a conversation, not another fight
That’s what I want this space to be.
Somewhere I can say what’s on my mind. Talk about grief, work, motherhood, making things, and the parts of life we don’t always say out loud.
You might relate. You might disagree. We can have a conversation without turning everything into a battle.
I’m tired of feeling like I have to fight to be heard, fight for peace, fight for every piece of myself. I want to live. I want to speak. I want to connect with people who are figuring it out too.
So thank you to my aunt for encouraging this. Thank you to everybody who listened to the trailer, left a comment, or said they wanted to hear what I had to say.
That encouragement means more than you know.
And if you hear my family in a future episode, that’s my life. There might be kids, a television, a door closing, or somebody looking for me when I’ve been out of sight for three minutes.
If I gotta hear it, y’all gotta hear it. 😂
What’s one thing you used to do just for yourself that you want to pick back up?
Love Always,
Your Favorite Craftin Ass Blk Grl ✨️ 🫶🏿
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