About fifteen years ago, two women had befriended me. One of them had a child the same age as my oldest daughter. At the time, she’d given birth to another, by a man, whom she was no longer with. During our friendship, she’d started dating and married another person altogether. The other had five children by one man, to whom she was divorced. Having remarried, she and the last one of her children lived with her new husband, who she’d eventually divorce.
We would usually convene over one of their houses, sip alcoholic drinks, and discuss women things: sex, periods, men.
On one occasion, we sat around a dining room table, red cups in hand. They both complained about their relationships. I don’t recall the details, but I do remember chiming in with whatever was bothering me about my husband.
“You don’t get to say nothing,” friend two interjected, “not when you’re married to Mr. f*ckin’ Rogers.”
They both howled with laughter. I gulped what was left of my drink and sat speechless for the remainder of the night.
Long before I’d met these women, my grandmother had taught me to sit in silence, to ignore how I felt about my experiences. Nothing I said was important enough to add to any grown-folks’ conversation. And because I was always surrounded by adults, I’d discovered that nothing I had to say about living life was ever of value, even if it was my own.
That one moment exemplified why I was rarely vulnerable with specific people. When I was twelve, there was one best friend with whom I stifled feelings about my parents. Her mother had moved thousands of miles away from her ghetto Chicago neighborhood to be a hairstylist for celebrities in California. My friend was left to be raised by her grandmother. To her, the image of my life was perfect. What could I have to complain about with two loving parents, adopted or not?
Years later, after we’d both had children of our own, that same friend confessed, “We’ve known each other for a long time, but I don’t feel like I really know you at all.”
It’s no wonder. I’d become a master at masking my true emotions about a thing, while hurt festered in the fiber of my being and manifested as inappropriate adult behavior.
This is what can happen when we devalue the voices of those around us. This is what can occur when we lack the ability to empathize. Those we claim to care about and to love may learn to either shrink their existence to make way for the largest voice in the room, or they may seek to be seen and heard in unhealthy ways.
I’d learned to do both, depending on the situation.
Today, however, I function in healthier ways with people whom I choose to interact.
With my children, I give them the space to give words to their emotions. If you talk to either one of them, you’ll notice they begin with the phrase “I feel like…” quite a bit. I believe it’s because I’ve always encouraged them to reflect and feel, whether I want to hear it or not.
With my friends and family, I listen to what people have to say. I never compare pain. If you’re upset by something I don’t understand or that isn’t of value to me, then okay. I’m not the emotion police. All feelings are important and have the right to be heard, no matter their size or subject.
With myself, I refuse to be silenced simply because my life is different than those around me. I know that different doesn’t mean less important. I don’t allow friends or family to guilt me for having things they do not. For example, just because you cannot find a happy healthy relationship, doesn’t mean I cannot discuss how being married has affected me.
Finally, I’m more discerning about the people with whom I’m aligned. This act alone has helped to create relationships that are more satisfying and symbiotic. In this way, I know that I’m participating in partnerships that are both valuable and valued, and by extension, so am I and what I have to say.
Do you live in Atlanta? Will you be home on June 15th? Are you interested in discussing the importance of father-daughter relationships? If you answered yes to any of these questions, then please come out to hear four of my co-authors read their stories and converse about familial ties.
There will also be free food and wine!
When I first began blogging, I was nervous. I didn’t think I had enough words to sustain a blog. My husband is reading this laughing. My newly acquired sister is going to screenshot this to me with a comment like in what world do you not have enough to say? My friends are reading this statement with wrinkled noses and confused faces.
I do talk a lot. But I didn’t know if what I had to say would be enough to maintain a blog that would keep email subscribers, known and unknown, returning and commenting.
It’s just recently that I realized what it might be.
I’m pretty authentic. I remember a blogging friend, Leslie, once commented that she admired how I “told my business without really telling my business.” I understand what she means now. I do let you in, the same way I let people into my life in person. If you ask me how my marriage, kids, or business is going, then I’m going to tell you. You might not know everythang, but you will know enough to feel as if you know.
I like connecting. When we first met, Dwight said, “You speak to everyone like you’ve known them forever!” He was absolutely right. That’s because I feel as if I’ve known you forever, even if we just met. You’re my friend. Period. He’s also told me that I seem open to connecting to people. I once argued this point, but he’s right about that too. I want to get to know you. Other people look for differences; it’s part of human nature. I look for similarities. Essentially, we’re all connected, and when we meet, I’m trying to understand how.
I like conversation. My comment section says comments are welcomed. And they really are. I want to talk to you about whatever you wanna talk about. If you are an adopted mother and I’m an adopted child, then I want to hear your perspective…for real. If you’re married and I’m married, I want to know how our marriages are similar or different and why. If you live near Philadelphia (I see you Neil), then I want to talk to you about my three visits to the City of Brotherly Love.
My blog is an extension of my real self.
This was made clear to me when Dwight and I hung out with my sister and her family. We mistakenly took a 3-mile walk to a tourist destination. Along the way, everyone decided to take a break at a 7-Eleven. I opted to sit outside. On my way to rest my buns and feet on the nearby sidewalk, a man, sitting in an old, beat-up car saw my OM tattoo.
“Do you know what that means?” he asked.
I told him I did. As I explained, I inched nearer and nearer to where he sat, in the passenger seat, with the door wide open, while his girlfriend braided his dirty blonde strands. I looked in his eyes during our five-minute conversation. I examined the track marks on his pale arm as he explained his religion, Dolphinism. Heroin, Cocaine, Adderall? His erraticism showed that at least one was his drug of choice.
“What do you do?” he asked.
“Professor,” I answered. It’s always my first answer.
Shame overwhelmed him and he did as many have in the past, explained why he hadn’t attained his educational pursuits. He couldn’t believe someone with a terminal degree would want to talk to him. And as I eyeballed the clothes, papers, and plastic bags that filled his car, I explained to him that he was a person, just like me. I told him that it didn’t matter that I was a professor and he was who he was. All that mattered was this moment, where I held space for the two of us to have a conversation.
And that’s exactly how I feel about blogging. I don’t know who many of you are, but I know one thing. We’re all here seeking something similar. I see you the same way you see me.
In our final interview, Tikeetha answers Lady G’s question about her sense of spirituality. Tikeetha discusses what her spiritual practice is and how this impacts her life with Munch, her son, and her friends. Though her answer is rooted in Christianity, we touch on meditation and positive energy.
We also continue a conversation about how Tikeetha parents, which includes everything from giving Munch a honey bun to handling bullies. There’s even a segment about penises growing…this is not clickbait lol
In this interview, Tikeetha discusses her understanding of forgiveness with regards to her relationship with her father. Also, Michelle asks her about her process for healing. With Father’s Day just around the corner in the States, I feel this is a timely discussion. Please feel free to add your thoughts about forgiveness and healing and how it manifests in your life.
I am acutely aware of the fact that I could not have been born. My origin story is not sprinkled with baby showers and welcome home rituals wrapped in pink receiving blankets. It does not elude me that I was born from irrepressible lust to a mother who contemplated the newly legislated Roe v Wade* decision.
Should I? Should I not? I’ve imagined her mulling repeatedly, until finally it was too late, and I was born at 9:42 A.M. on May 23rd.
With this awareness comes an understanding that existing is a gift. And because this is true for me, I live knowing that life is for the living. So, I live differently.
I do as I please in most situations. I do not ask others for permission to take time for myself, to pursue education, or to make money as I see fit for me. This is not a feminist statement. It’s my life’s practice. I’m responsible for the direction of my life and I trust my intuition to guide me where I should go, be, and do in each moment.
Inherently, I’ve always sensed that social norms are made-up rules to control populations of people. Learning about the theory of social construction solidified this thought. This philosophy has not only framed how I view life, but also how I live it. I have abandoned many of these faux guidelines and replaced them with rituals that make sense for me. This ranges from how I practice so-called holidays to how I interact with family and friends.
I was not born to be treated like a 21st century paid slave. Therefore, I’ve found ways to perform work duties that suit me yet still benefit the institution. I show up and give 100% in each situation, regardless of how I feel about co-workers and students. My value for what I do and why I do it stems from a personal work ethic, not something external. While it has taken time, I know the difference between a job’s requirements and someone else’s desires. I do not bend to the latter.
I suspect I’m here for a reason: to live a human life. For me, this means dreaming and manifesting dreams that, in my limited knowledge, only human beings can do. There is nothing I can think of that I cannot do. Don’t confuse this statement with I can do anything. I cannot, for example, become the best WNBA player, mainly because I haven’t considered it. But I do believe firmly that whatever I conceive with my thoughts and imagination can be achieved by me.
So, I write and maintain this blog as a way to globally inspire and connect with others. I write books to purposefully spark conversation and shift hearts and perspectives. I converse with my siSTARS, record and share videos with the public to add as much authenticity to this human experience as I can. I take photos intended to move you and others. And I own and operate a successful editing service business to help writers and scholars attain their goals in an affordable way. There is nothing that I cannot do.
Life is a gift. What better way is there to show appreciation than to wake up each morning and live it in ways you value?
On my 46th birthday, I’m grateful. I’m grateful for life. I’m grateful for purpose. And I’m grateful for each of you who intentionally participate in it with me in some way.
*Please note. This is not a pro-life message; this is a pro-LIVE your life message 😉
Do you follow Tikeetha Thomas? If not, then here are a few reasons why:
- She’s one of the co-authors of Daddy: Reflections of Father-Daughter Relationships.
- She’s an amazing lifestyle blogger who discusses everything from parenting to dating.
- She’s an all-around inspirational person who uses her own life to motivate each one of her followers.
In this first video, I ask Tikeetha to make connections between the relationship she has with her father and those she has in the dating realm. Check it out below:
I love supporting people and their endeavors. I also love supporting authors, especially if they are independently published. Over the past three years, I’ve read approximately fifteen self-published books. Five of these were just since January. And most of you know, I’m also independently published. So, I feel confident in offering a few suggestions for those of you who are almost ready to click that publishing button on Amazon, Lulu, Ingram Spark, or Create Space.
#1: Please pay for an editor. I know firsthand that editors can be costly. For The Unhappy Wife, I paid a little under $300 and for Daddy, approximately $700. But, I will tell you what. Not one person has approached me asking if I had either edited. This is important. When readers open your book, they are expecting quality, especially if they’ve spent over $10. They are not expecting to trip over misspelled words and syntax errors. In fact, for avid readers, this can be a turn off, not only from finishing the book, but also from trusting you as an author whose work they should read in the future.
#2: Please pay for formatting. I’ve read a few indie books that looked as if the person just uploaded their Word document to a platform for sale. This is a no-no. Sometimes the editor you paid from #1 can also format your book. However, be sure s/he understands the nuance between formatting for a printed book and formatting for an eBook. There is a difference. For example, an eBook has to be reflowable; this means the book reorganizes or reformats itself, no matter the device. It’s the reason you can read a book on your tablet or on your cell phone and it looks the same. Conversely, your printed book has to be created as a static version, and depending on the size of your book, there are also specific dimensions you must adhere to. An editor who knows formatting can help you with either of those.
#3: Proofread your book prior to publishing. I know you’re probably like, KG, I already paid the editor all this money. Why do I have to proofread? Because I said so, that’s why. Just kidding. Let me tell you what happened to me. With Daddy, I paid someone to format, trusted her, and ordered 50 copies. I opened up the book and it was all kinds of terrible. Spacing was off. Words were missing for some reason. It just looked unprofessional. On top of that I had just wasted a couple hundred dollars ordering the books because I was not about to allow that copy to be purchased by the public. I ended up finding someone else and the book looks like the version you have in your possession.
If you’re looking for affordable formatting, Fiverr is a reputable site. I’ve used it before and paid no more than $25. The editor I trusted for Daddy is named Christine Schmidt at True-Blue Editing. Finally, I also have a business that offers proofreading, copy and line editing, called Writing Endeavors®. I’d love to work with you.
Best of luck if you’re planning to self-publish! If you have any other advice for these types of authors, then please feel free to share in the comments.