I’ve been half-heartedly counting my MACROS and listening to Teddy Pendergrass on repeat. My mama’s music has always soothed me — brought me back to a place where I’ve felt safe and content, not more alive than I am right now but somehow less bumped, bruised and weighed down by my 28 years of life. If I close my eyes real tight, I can still see her now, driving her Mercury Sable —either the old car from my early years or the indigo blue one she got in 2000 that I drove after her death. Teddy’s soulful voice would flow through the car's stereo system as my mama sang along —off-key, of course, exclaiming “TEDDY!!!” at the top of her lungs every few minutes or so. It would be years before I truly understood who Teddy Pendergrass was a man or a musician. My life has been shaken and swirled around since those days —ever since August when I wrote my last personal post here.
At the end of summer, I was feeling unsteady and uncertain-- as if some unwelcome storm was on the horizon ready to blow its way into my life. I was right. Luckily (or unluckily) storms aren’t exactly uncommon in my life, and I’ve learned to buckle up and strap in --letting life whip me about at its whim. This latest wind brought the ending of my long-term relationship and career frustration— but it also brought a sense of clarity and calm.
Being alone again— or at least single, not having to concern yourself with the opinions and feelings of another heart or soul provides a lot of time to reflect. I've been examining my life, where I am and where I want to be. Though I've never been one to be complacent, I’ve certainly allowed myself to get comfortable, to seep into the familiarity of a man and a job. There’s certainly nothing inherently wrong with that but, it’s halted my growth and allowed me a cocoon of false contentment.
So here I am, just two months into the new year and I’m standing at a crossroads. It’s a familiar one in may ways—”Come Go With Me” is still blaring in the background— but it’s also different. Mama is gone, for nearly ten years at this point and so is my safety net —the man who handled my heart with such love and care until he walked out one day, handing it back to me as his Timberland-clad tapped down the hallway of my apartment building. But I’m still here —and in many ways, I’m more recognizable to myself then I’ve ever been. I’ve spent a ton of time alone in these past four months not out of loneliness but about of reflection, getting to know myself once again. And it’s time to make decisions—those life altering, world shattering choices that make the vomit rise in your throat and scare you shitless.
xoxo Chocolate Girl In the City xoxoxo