It’s funny because today I’ve been thinking about NYE and NY Day across cultures. Groups celebrate the beginning of the year at different times, but they are all about renewal and reflection. It got me thinking as I get older and experience more chaos in my life, every day feels like a holiday and I need to find meaning in each day.

I worked for a few morning hours at the Y this week and one of my favorite members came in late (for him) and was moving slower. He’s 80 something and comes in faithfully each day around 830-9am and stays until about noon. I said hello and asked if his knee was feeling ok since I knew he had seen a doctor for it recently. He said “I’m not feeling great”. He said “I’m late and I’m not sure I’ll be able to stay long”. He left about an hour later. I said to my coworker, “I’m going to lose it when John goes”. She was in the midst of an existential crisis of her own and she said “I feel the same way about Bill” (another older member). She said “then I have to remember it may be Bill who is saying that about me. He may also say nothing along with everyone else”. I said “well shit, aren’t I arrogant to think that just because John is older, he’ll go first. I got a concussion getting out of my damn car”. I could go any day at any time for any reason.

One of my NY traditions is watching The Twilight Zone marathon. I’ve been doing this for at least the last 25 years. One of the episodes of the Twilight Zone I was watching today is called The Fugitive. It’s about a guy, known as Old Ben, who is from another planet and becomes friends with the neighborhood kids. Two men from the other planet come looking for Ben to take him home. To catch Ben, the men take out one of the kids, Jenny. It sounds way more dramatic than it actually was. They didn’t hurt her, they just knew he’d come back to save her. Anywho, Ben comes back to save Jenny and she says to him, Ben am I going to die? Ben says well yes, one day, but not today.

So NYE represents what morning means to me now. It’s an opportunity to start a new, begin again. It’s my chance to start fresh. It’s my chance to start. So there are my NY musings.

What you do to me. There are these moments when I look into your eyes and I see the whole world before me. When you say my name, I feel a tingle down my spine. When you anticipate my next thought, I swear I fall in lust. Whenever you make time for me, I’m humbled. We could be anywhere else with anyone else, but we chose this moment. We chose each other for this brief moment. I see your smile, I melt. I want to be close to you. I want to hold your face in my hands while I kiss you ever so softly on your beautiful lips. I breathe you in and hope to get lost in your embrace. Being close to you feels like a scene in a cheesy movie. We could make a great movie.

Your eyes, your beautiful eyes. You don’t just look at me, you see me. You see my beauty and my flaws. You see my strengths and my fears. You see into me, places I can usually hide from everyone. You are not everyone. I’m in awe of you. Your beautiful mind, your beautiful heart, your beautiful soul.

At least once a day I say I hate people. This is the rare occasion where the presence or absence of “all” matters. I don’t hate all people. I adore people who are kind just because. I admire people who do things just because it’s the right thing to do. I appreciate people who are honest and candid. I love people who are unapologetically themselves. You are all those things and sooooo much more. You aren’t the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow or a treasure at the bottom of the sea. You are the rainbow or the deep dive to the ship. Our relationship, our connection, our journey is the gift. It’s the magic. I don’t want you. I crave you. I desire you. I ache for you. You feel just like…

Things to know before I share the story behind this picture. 1. I have never been written up in my whole entire life. Not once. Like seriously never. 2. As a youngish person in a small state where there is half a degree of separation between people, I take my reputation quite seriously. 3. At the same time, over the years, I’ve learned you have to articulate your needs or concerns if you want those things addressed. It took me years to get to this point so I know not everyone is there. Sometimes folks need support and others want to give voice to their feelings in different ways. 4. I’ve learned to give fewer fucks as I get older. If I intimidate you with the truth, baby that’s a you problem. If I “make you look bad” without ever saying your name, you need to do some soul searching. If I make you feel small with my words, you are already tiny.

Ok, so this picture. I took this picture at an elementary school days after being written up at work. I was written up for sharing concerns about my workplace in a staff meeting. I was told I lowered staff morale despite my comments being about low staff morale. I was told I made people at the top look incompetent despite the significant levels of mismanagement at the top resulting in significant staff turnover. I was told I had no right to speak up for other people because they should have spoken up for themselves despite my getting permission to share concerns from people who were fearful of losing their jobs. Oh, by the way, this event did in fact result in me losing my job.

Imagine seeing the words “If I stand up for others, they are not alone” and “I can make a difference if I see someone being treated unfairly” and “I can stand up for others” after being told I can’t make a difference and I can’t stand up for others. Imagine seeing these words as soon as you walk into an elementary school where the kiddos are learning the value of trust in themselves, their peers, and the staff. The kiddos know they are respected and cared for no matter what. I saw a child having a hard time regulating her emotions and an administrator came out of the front office to hold her hand and talk to her. A child was working on a math project in the hallway on the floor and when other students walked by, they encouraged each other to be careful so as to not disturb her.

Not a single action was taken on a single item brought up in this meeting until the day I was written up. My write up was the first action. Within weeks, I was no longer employed. This was the second and final action during my employment. The children at this school could offer some real lessons in honesty, accountability, compassion, action, and the list goes on. This school reminded me calling yourself a leader doesn’t make you a leader. Those children who watched out for the young lady doing work in the hall were leaders. The administrator who helped the child regulate was a leader. The kiddos who believed it was important to put these words on this wall for all to see when they walked in are leaders. We need more of those kinds of leaders. We need fewer people calling themselves leaders who just show up to places for photo ops and more people who are taking the photos of the people doing great work. We need fewer people who want to see their faces on the wall and more people who prop up the people keeping people within those walls. We need fewer people making their living off the backs of the people who do the hard work day in and day out without being properly compensated. The nonprofit world needs a real come to Jesus about living their mission, vision, and values. You don’t care about families if you don’t offer paid parental leave. You don’t care about your staff’s mental health if you know the salary you provide forces them to choose between paying for food or rent. Working off the clock is not “just what you have to do” as a salaried employee. Wear and tear on your car for work travel is not just part of the job. Cutting professional development budgets and increasing salaries for the top paid staff is not a good look. Saying there is a hiring freeze because of finances is ok if you aren’t spending thousands upon thousands of dollars to contract out work at a lower rate. Looking for an outside vendor so you can avoid paying people internally and giving them a chance to exercise their expertise is just rude.

My MPA program taught me so much and there are a few mistakes I will never make again. 1. After learning how to read nonprofit financial statements and tax documents, I learned a phrase I still say today. Show me your budget and I’ll tell you your values. I will never again work for an organization whose values are not in alignment with the financials. If you hide them, these public documents, that tells me even more. 2. If I look at your social media and it looks like you have a staff of 5 when you employ 20 times that, this tells me more than you ever could. 3. If professional development is not an intentional part of the benefits package, you’re not for me. I don’t just mean reimbursing me for 1 credit a semester. I mean, real professional development. 4. If your employee handbook, doesn’t provide specific policies on the thing you specialize in, I’m not sure that’s the place for me. How do you work at Verizon if you don’t get a discount on Verizon services? How can you work at a daycare and not get access to childcare? How do you work at a school and not get to take advantage of the classes offered? How do you work for a summer camp and cannot afford to have your child attend? If I’m helping someone apply for social services and simultaneously working on my own application because I need the same services, something is very very wrong. 5. If you are a nonprofit “leader” and you don’t know how nonprofits work, that’ll be a no for me.

No amount of wishing, hoping, believing, or speaking up will change some people or organizations. Sometimes the values espoused in a mission statement are just words. Some people do nonprofit work for the applause and accolades. They do it because it makes them look good. Do you, boo. I refuse to work with those kinds of people anymore. I’m so grateful for every experience I’ve had no matter how it’s ended. Each of those experiences has made me a stronger person. They have made me a more confident person. They have helped me shift and shape my why. They have made me believe in the person I am and trust in the person I’m becoming. I have value. I have purpose. I will make a difference. I will stand up when I see people being treated unkindly. I will support those who are afraid to speak up. I will encourage them to use their voice, but I will not be intimidated into not using mine when it helps. I will not be dismissive of other’s concerns. I will hold myself accountable while holding others accountable. I truly believe everyone has value. I will not let others dim my light because we all deserve to shine.

If you believe you are growing your organization and not investing in the growth of your employees (opportunities to go to conferences, engage with stakeholders, participate in webinars, take on leadership training, or just learn something new), you’re lying real bad. Like real real bad.

If your organization loses more than 10 full-time people within the first six months of the year aaaannnndddd you only have about 75 full-time people, it’s you not them. Believe me, it’s definitely you. Pinky swear. #sorrynotsorry

A friend and I collabed on terminology for the discomfort experienced post pole dancing class.

PDF - Pole Dancing Fatigue

Only share your PDF with trusted users.

Warning - this PDF may cause bruising on the legs and arms, burns on the inner thighs, and tenderness in the wrists and knees from overuse.

Can be relieved by using warm liquids, soft touch/gentle massage, or a night of passion that causes one to forget their discomfort and name.

Intolerance for bullshit or shaming. If this persists, please call a doctor immediately. Someone is likely going to need one!

Today I had a wake up call. COVID had and is having a devastating impact on our communities and the world. When I’m in a good head space, I always try to find the silver lining. I try to find the why in the thing that was clearly meant to happen. I think we all learned a variety of lessons in 2020. One of the many lessons I learned was to value my energy and be very intentional about how I spend my time.

Pre-COVID I was always doing something. I was driving all over the place and attending everything under the sun. If I wasn’t at work, I was at some meeting. If not there, a rehearsal or audition. Perhaps a film shoot on the weekend. Working my second job. Going to the gym, aerial yoga, or some other activity I picked up that month. I couldn’t sit still. I couldn’t just be - be with myself and be in the moment.

When COVID hit and I abruptly had to change and cancel all my plans, it was truly shocking how much time I spent doing “stuff.” I was driving 200 or more miles on any given day. I was in 3 or 4 states a week even when I lived and worked in only one. I only really spent time with my Gabey before I started my day and when I was winding down my day. I had calendars in multiple places. I had all kinds of alarms set so I wouldn’t forget this or that. There were days I literally forgot to eat or drink water. I was a mess. I thrived on the chaos of my schedule. It made it difficult to sit down and be with myself and face facts. I wasn’t really sure what I wanted or what the hell I was doing. Three cancelled concerts planned a month apart. Theatre events and performances cancelled. Traditions uprooted. Was all of this really important?

COVID made me sit down and reflect. It made me ask myself some tough questions. What was I avoiding? What really matters to me? What do I keep going forward? What do I let go of now? How can I keep this sense of clarity and awareness post-COVID? Early on in the pandemic I said pretty quickly I need to be more intentional about my time and how I spend it. I didn’t need to have a maxed out calendar to be productive or impactful. Sitting with myself and having tough conversations was going to be my reality for a while and I needed to embrace that. I’m realizing that was easy to say and do when I literally didn’t have any alternative. Now things are opening back up and some of our routines can commence. I looked at my calendar today and I’m doing it again. I’m not driving over 200 miles a day, but I am spending so much time in front of a screen doing a myriad of things. I’m working two jobs and often picking up extra shifts at the second job. I’m going back to school. I’m attending board meetings. I’m attending virtual events. I’ve started doing aerial yoga again. I signed up for an 8 week intro to pole dancing class. I’m doing it again.

While I have probably gone overboard with the schedule again, I am noticing some stark differences. I am spending time with myself daily through meditation. I have been regularly practicing now instead of haphazardly sitting down and breathing. I am much more intentional about introspection and have been faithful about therapy. I’m making time with friends a priority in ways I hadn’t before. I’m spending time with Gabe and Cleveland in a more intentional way. My communication with Christopher has shifted during this time. I’m much more consistent about communicating with others than I think I did before. Silver lining, while I’m not slowing down my pace, I am slowing down my brain.

I told my sister today I feel like I’m having an identity crisis. I feel like I’m going through the motions and don’t always know why I’m doing what I do. I need to revisit that commitment to myself. My time and energy are valuable. Once expended, I can’t get them back. I do need to sit down with myself again and really make sure I’m living my life with purpose, with intent. I need to make sure it’s not all just because, rather because it matters to me and future me. Take a breath, Tya.

Today is the day of the woman aka International Women’s Day. I take time today to reflect on the women having an influence on who I am today.

My sister has always been a source of inspiration. While we haven’t always gotten along and we’ve drifted apart over the years, her strength, courage, conviction, and passion have always pushed me to be my best. She continues to inspire me each day when she steps out on a limb to try new things seemingly without a care in the world. She is so brave and believes in herself in such a way I aspire to one day. I’m so grateful to call her my sister.

My therapist is another strong black woman in my life. She has been there for me and challenged me in ways I never could have imagined. She has pushed me hard and called me on my shit time and time again. I am growing into a stronger person because of her belief in me. She leads by example and I am so blessed to have found her.

My bestie, Rebecca, is an incredible human and I am so in awe of her strength and determination. She and I have experienced some setbacks, but we came out on the other side. She has been to hell and back. She is my slice of heaven. I can’t believe we have been able to get to this point in our lives and I am so happy she has been by my side for so much of it. I truly look up to her and thank my lucky stars often she sticks with me. I love that woman to pieces.

Lizbeth, as I like to call her, is a God send. She has been my mom, my sister, my girlfriend, my friend - all the things. She has been there for me in ways I never knew I needed. When I need someone, I can count on her to be in my corner. She is selfless and does so much for others especially for me. While there are times I want to shake her because she doesn’t see how amazing she is, I could also squeeze hug her constantly for everything she has been to me. The Gabe and I love her dearly.

There are so many amazing woman who have taught me and been part of my educational experience who will never leave my heart. Ms. Savage, Ms. Best, Ms. Rehnstrom, Ms. Shalley-Leonard, Ms. Masten, Ms. Dehl, and others have pushed me because they saw something in me I still struggle to see in myself. They saw promise and I pray I am making them proud. I hope to be a source of hope for someone the way they were for me.

Doris, Diane, Mary Lu - While our close relationships are essentially nonexistent now, I will never forget the care and kindness they showed me and the connections we once had. When I so desperately wanted a mom, they filled that void. I am experiencing that void now, but it’s so comforting to know I’ve had those bonds and I can have them again in the future. I thank them for everything they have done for me - the hugs, the talks, the support, everything. I am so grateful to have had such strong women to look up to in my life.

Phenomenal Woman by Maya Angelou is one of my favorite poems. I performed it at the Teen Miss Milford pageant many moons ago and it has stuck with me ever since. It is a poem I still aspire to internalize. I don’t believe a woman’s strength comes from her looks or ability to bear children. It comes from her zest for life, her confidence, her belief that she is strong and capable. She knows she is a force and carries herself as such. All of these women are phenoms. They have shaped me into the phenomenal woman I am today. Thank you all for blessing me and helping me grow.

It’s been proven with science and shit that expressing gratitude is like a really good thing. When I went to the Dominican Republic for a yoga retreat, I was gifted with a gratitude journal. I took it very seriously in that I wrote something (3 things) every day. I sometimes struggled to find things I was grateful for when I had a tough day. Sitting and reminding myself there were things that gave me joy even when I felt like hell was so important.

Today I’m grateful for technology. It sounds so first world and it is, but I am grateful nonetheless. I haven’t been able to spend quality time with my closest friends because you know COVID. If it wasn’t for Zoom, Marco Polo, and texting, I don’t know when I would ever see or talk to them. I believe we have become even closer through the pandemic and much more grateful for each other. We appreciate our time together so much more. I know I do anyway. Thank you universe, inventors, and the like for making this possible.

This picture was taken in March 2011 before I boarded my first plane on my first trip overseas. I spent a little over a week exploring England and Scotland with some brilliant minds from the University of Delaware and the UK. I was in grad school working on my MPA. I was doing something huge, on my own. This picture was my defiance. I broke through so many of the barriers I was never supposed to get through. Sexually abused and assaulted before reaching high school only to encounter an entirely different kind of predator upon my arrival. Abused, neglected, ignored, and so shattered, I did anything I could to just feel loved. In that search, I became pregnant at 16 prior to starting my senior year in high school. Isolated, alone, and desperately afraid, I did the only thing I knew how to do - hide. I hid from everyone (not well to be honest), but mostly I hid from myself. I didn’t want to face the truth. I was never going to amount to anything and I was never going to get away from the life I desperately wanted out of. April 18, 2003 something changed. There was this beautiful little face of the sweetest baby boy I had ever laid eyes on. Looking at that face, I knew I had to try like hell to change what felt like my destiny. I graduated high school with that baby boy in my arms. I graduated with my BA with that little guy watching me from the stands. I graduated with my MPA with that slightly bigger little guy watching me from the audience. I was slowly becoming the someone I only dreamed I could be. The second picture, the not so little guy who pushed me to be the best person I could be. He is the reason I have worked so damn hard not to take things lying down. He is the reason I get up every day. I walk this earth and move through this life praying one day I will make him proud. When I look at that face, I still see the baby who blessed and inspired me that Good Friday in 2003. The universe had other plans and I am so grateful those plans included him.

We all have things we don’t talk about, right? It’s not just me I hope. Sometimes I’m an open book and other times my door is locked. I don’t want anyone to come in and see what’s on the other side. I wonder sometimes if privacy is all it’s cracked up to be. Would letting people in, the right people, make me feel less compelled to lock the door? Perhaps there would be less to keep behind the door. I have to really interrogate the idea that at times I am an open book, because if I do have a locked door occasionally, the book probably only tells the story I want told. It’s a book of my own making. Through many MANY years of therapy I have been told time and time again to not keep things bottled up. It’s not helpful to keep everything behind the door. Over the course of my life I have also become intimately aware of what can happen when you open the door to new people. How do you strike the balance?

I rarely take pictures that turn out any good. I know I shouldn’t judge, but they really are pretty bad. No perspective, no thought, just point and click. I went to Longwood in January and took a picture that I actually thought about, although briefly. This is the picture. I chose this picture for today’s challenge because I cannot get over the light in this picture and the lack of light. This picture felt deep for me. I went to Longwood with a friend, a woman I’m incredibly attracted to, but not really sure how to go about expressing it. While part of me is out in the open and I’ve sort of said something, part of me feels hidden and as if I can’t act on that feeling. I’ve always associated yellow with happiness. This flower reflected my happiness in the moment, but also the hidden joy of spending time with this incredible woman in a place I dearly love, sharing this moment with her. Way too deep for a Monday, but there you have it. Light.

I was introduced to Zach indirectly through a fellowship program I’m in. Zach has expertise in so many areas related to film etc, but he chose to spend time talking about the value of writing. Doesn’t matter what, but just writing something everyday.

I used to be an avid journalist. I have so many journals it’s hard to believe I had that much to write about. Somehow I got away from it. Got away from putting pen to paper and just letting whatever was inside spill onto the page. I would often think about how therapeutic it was, but convinced myself I didn’t have time. Convinced myself I had to have a purpose. Zach reminded me I didn’t. I can write just to write. I can write about whatever I want.

Today is Day 1 of that journey. I’m planning to write something, who knows what, but something every day. Who knows what will come of it, but frankly that’s not the point. I just want to get back in the habit of putting fingers to keys and letting my brain do the rest.