Happy. New. Year.

It's New Year's Day. This, of course, means that resolutions are made. Vision boards are created. Plans are put into motion. Beautiful intentions are set. I think that we can all agree that the celebration of the New Year, carries great expectation. I believe that while we cast our net wide and deep, self-care must be in the forefront. What does self-care look like in the New Year? 

For me, self-care looks like temporarily escaping and going plant shopping. I know, pretty simple. I love plants. I connect with them. They make me happy. For me, there is nothing quite as peaceful as walking through a beautiful nursery of greenery. I count it a privelege to witness how plants reach toward the sun, grabbing every pinch of light it can possibly hold. Its worship at its finest. Its beauty at its finest. 

Self-care looks dry brushing and exfoliating away the yuck of yesterday. I love applying an amazon clay mask w/ turmeric and then using my favorite plant medicine (essential oils). As I sit on my sofa, allowing my mask to dry, I sip on my Holy Wellness Tea by Honey and Sage Co. I enjoy burning Palo Santo while Ella plays in the background... Self Care looks like lounging on my sofa while my skin soaks up every ounce of lavender oil applied post-shower. 

Self-care looks like not looking at your phone for an hour in the morning. This was one of the many things that I implemented during my 30 days of creating ritual. There is something beautiful about sitting with yourself before taking on the rest of the world, and its news. 

Self Care looks like taking a dance class. This year, I co-facilitated an event that centered around self-love. We wrote love letters to ourselves. We cried. We danced. We reconnected with our bodies. 

Self-care looks like intentionally preparing a meal. I believe that I deserve good food. I believe that I deserve a good meal that is filled with love. Sometimes, when I have a quiet moment to myself at the house, I will go into my kitchen and prepare myself a meal fit for a queen. Because I am a queen. 

Lastly, self-care looks like gratitude. I am so very grateful. Today marks two years in which I pressed the publish button to #NotSoPrivateParts. I remember being frightened by such vulnerability. Creating this platform, has produced so much freedom. For this, I show gratitude. How will you self-care in the New Year? 

Stillness

A few months ago, I was in Boston for an event. The boys were home with Jon. It was just me. I arrived to my hotel and checkin in. I had nothing to do that particular night, as our event was the next day. As I laid on the hotel bed, speaking to my husband on the phone he said, “why don't you take a bath?” My reply, “And do what?” My husband, “You know, chill… relax… in the water.” I sat there trying to compute his words. ‘Take a bath? And then what?’ My reply, “I can’t.” 

Being still is hard. Period. It always has been. I’ve never been one to sit in a freshly drawn bath. I wish that I could. The lingering question has always been, “What does one do, once in the bath?” Do you sit and think of all the things that you wished you would have done during the day? Do you plan for tomorrow? Do  you take stock of the many items on the never ending to do list? Or do you just simply sit… in the water… and be? How does one just sit? 

`Lately, I have wondering what would happen if I finally embraced the stillness? Perhaps my thoughts would be less rapid. Perhaps my mornings would be more intentional. The older I become the more that I realize that when one gives themselves the gift of stillness, a door is opened. I find that the moments that I am still, I open the door to kindness for self and others. Rushing here and there, never pausing and seldomly reflecting has the ability to birth unnecessary and negative pressure. For what are we racing? Where are we racing too? And why so fast? I truly believe that in our society of stay ready and be ready AND hustle hard, we can miss out on the here and now… losing ourselves in comparisons… neglecting gratitude as if it is a stranger.

So what can we do to embrace the stillness? The quiet? For me, I could perhaps not check my phone at first waking. Perhaps instead, I could allow myself to experience a complete 10-15 minutes of quiet, soaking in the sounds of the birds outside my window. Perhaps, I could read a few pages of my favorite book.  Perhaps I could journal.  I could create a morning ritual, celebrating the stillness of it all. 

What are we so afraid of when it comes to stillness? Are we afraid of what we may feel and/or hear? I for one, can be super uncomfortable with silence. Are we afraid of what may rise to the surface while we allow the stillness to fall? I am challenging myself to allow the silence and stillness to be. I am allowing myself to be ok with it all... for they are both necessary. 

My Vacation Teacher...

Vacations are good. Vacations are necessary. And repeat… This was my mantra leading up to our trip. For the first time in ten years, Jon and I would embark on an adult’s only get away to New York. It actually worked out quite perfectly. Jon was playing Afro Punk (which I was BEYOND excited about.) I was going to be doing a shoot for a brand that I held near and dear to my heart. Babysitters were in place. Needless to say, it was going to be fun. I was super excited. Leading up to our trip, (and during) I would learn some amazing things about myself. Perhaps these were things that I’ve always known. However, these nostalgic discoveries were so very evident. Here are three things that I learned during our great adventure…

I learned that I deserve good things. Before our big trip, my anxiety was on fleek!! I was afraid that at any given moment, one of our kids would catch a cold, and I wouldn't be able to go. (Please note: My kiddos are never sick.) The thought of the brand that I would be working with, canceling for unforeseen reasons, (although they have never cancelled) crossed my mind. The thought of my daredevil of a kid, Jedi... breaking an arm during one of his acrobatic stunts crossed my mind. I even imagined Afro Punk canceling due to unforeseen weather. I know… It was crazy. Anxiety made its grand appearance. Truthfully, the thoughts continued until we boarded the plane. Why were these thoughts so prevalent? Why did I feel like our beautiful four day plan would fall through at any moment? The answer was so very evident… I wasn't aware that I deserved good things. As someone who has dealt with both childhood and adult trauma, one can begin to second guess when good things happen. You begin questioning IF something/ someone/ some experiences are really as amazing as they seem. I for one, if not careful, can pick things apart to its bare bones... carefully examining the gift that has been given to me... as if it is a mysterious package left by a stranger similar to the film, “The Box.” When healing from trauma, it is very easy to doubt every good thing that comes your way, as opposed to simply embracing it. After all, the pain experienced is so very real, one’s guard is hard to let down. However, it is so very imperative that at some point, the healing begins and the exhale takes place. At some point, the folded arms that guard our wounds, must open to receive the good that so desperately would like to enter our world. Although, I can never take away the traumatic events in my life, I can still decide to embrace the beauty and wonder this world has to offer. For God sake... I deserve it!! On my trip, I prompted myself to say thank you and receive… arms open… heart open.

I learned that I am super resourceful and quick on my feet. Upon arriving in NY, my tummy began feeling upset. Perhaps it was nerves or lack of sleep on the plane. Who knows. We landed around 9am in NY. Before heading to baggage claim, I went to the restroom and freshened up a bit, and Jon and I headed out on our first adventure. First stop... my photo shoot. As our Lyft driver drops us off, my stomach by this point feels really bubbly and weird. I try my best to think nothing of it. We finally arrive in the city. As we're waiting outside of the loft, one of the shoot's coordinators comes down to meet & escort us to where we should go. Not a second after we greet each other, I do the unthinkable… I “sharted!!.” Yes. You read it right. I shart myself. For those of you who have no idea what that means, it means that I simeoultaenously farted and crapped my pants.  Yep. Thank God, no one heard it. Thank God, It wasn't a huge “shart”. However, what is really a reasonable sized “shart”? Its all horrible. Its all incredibly humbling. What do I do next? I walk up the FIVE flights of stairs to the loft where we are shooting and I immediately ask for their bathroom... just citing that I need to freshen up... remaining as calm as possible.  Needless, to say, my tummy is obviously upset!! (Please note: “Shart(ing) is not something that I incorporate into my everyday life.) Once I get into the bathroom, I freeze. In this particular bathroom there is no sink, just a toilet. I panic. I look through my bag and I notice that I have a water bottle and baby wipes. So... what did I do?... I did what every dope woman who sharts her pants would do. I channel my inner McGuiver and begin to give myself a bath with my freshly opened bottle of Dasani, which I had confiscated it from the plane...  and baby wipes. I literally began squatting over the toilet pouring water all over my nether regions and wiping as if my life depended on it. Because it did!!! I am convinced I couldn't have bathed myself any better had I been in an an actual shower. Soon after, I got dressed...  walked out of the bathroom with a Mentos smile on my face without anyone suspecting a thing. After modeling underwear for the next 7 hours, I left the shoot, giving myself a much deserved pat on the back... and the rear. 

Lastly, I learned that Jon and I needed a vacation more than ever. We needed time to connect with ourselves…. just us. No distractions. We found ourselves wondering around the big apple, with no particular place to be. It was wonderful. We stayed up late. We woke up late on days that we didn't have to work. We made love on the table (because we could). We did exactly what we wanted to do, when we wanted to do it, AND where we wanted to do it (pun totally intended). I remembered WHY I chose him so very long ago. I remembered why he has been my best friend for all these years. WE remembered why every day, we choose each other. We ate vegan churros at fun vegan diners. This moment reminded me of when he and I were dating... staying up to the wee hours, eating greasy Waffle House diner food, and just knowing that perhaps this thing that we were feeling was not only mutual, but real. This trip served as a beautiful reminder. It was necessary. It was beautiful. It was a teacher. For this I am forever grateful. 

Abundance

Today, I have been reflective. It's hard to to wrap my head around the fact that not only will Mr. Jedi be 2 years old, tomorrow... But 2 years ago today, I was in the throws of 43 hours of intense labor. It was by far one of the most intense moments I have ever experienced. Truthfully, the intensity was beyond the surges, reminding me that this life that I had been carrying for 40 weeks, would now make its noble entrance.

I remember breathing... breathing through every contraction... through every bit of pain... It felt as if my back was being torn apart. Reading numerous hypno birthing books had gotten me to this point of no return. In that moment, I remember asking for my mother. In that moment I missed her more than ever. She was present for the birth of my oldest son, Jax. She held my hand. She reminded me that I was loved in a way that only a mother can. She watched as her baby birthed her own baby.

This time was different. She wasn't there... and nothing... and no one could replace or change this unfortunate reality. However, I believe that it was no coincidence that during my birth with Jedi, I was surrounded by love. I truly believe that every woman that was present, represented a special part of my mother... her motherhood... her protection... her sense of humor... her focus... her laughter. All of it was there in that room... in different forms... but ever present.

When I look at this photo, I am reminded that somehow... someway within the deficit, there is still abundance. Within my mothers absence, I was surrounded by such an abundance of love.  
 

3 Lessons That I Have Learned, By Simply Trying

As I sit here preparing the last entry for this year, I am reminded of New Years Eve 2016, where I found myself ringing in the New Year, surrounded by friends and an impromptu sleepover, dancing with flowers in my hair with a new baby, and pressing the publish button to my second baby of the year, #NotSoPrivateParts. Fast forward one year later, It's 2:40am, and I find myself in the same place (impromptu adult sleepover included) recalling the many lessons that I've learned within this beautiful year. What a difference a year makes, indeed. I taught my first class ever, hosted a few powerful events, became a doula, and have opened up some much needed dialogue amongst women. To be honest, when I embarked upon this road of creating a platform for women to share their "Not So Private Parts", it came from a place of wanting self healing. I needed to talk and vent and release from the trauma of my miscarriage. I didn't want to go at it alone. One year later, and over 22k women have found that same safe space. One year later, what started off as simply a blog, has now evolved into a resource of information for all things women's issues. For that I am truly grateful. Truthfully, I wasn't sure what would happen after I pushed the publish button and began on this journey of being a bridge to healing, but I am so very glad that I did. I'm glad that I tried. Here are a few lessons, that I learned this year, by simply trying...

1. The obvious... You will never know unless you try. When I started #NSPP, I had just given birth less than four months prior. So here I was with this new baby. I had worked in the fashion industry for almost four years. I enjoyed my job. However, I knew that this baby was a bit different than my oldest. Or perhaps I was as well. This kid was not as chill as my oldest. I was not as young as I was when I gave birth to my oldest son. I was Breastfeeding non stop. I was exhausted. I could feel in my gut, that perhaps down the road I was going to have to make the hard decision that most parents fear making regarding work. I was afraid of going down to one income. I knew that in the event that decisions needed to be made, I didn't want to be destitute. Truthfully, after my miscarriage, the vision for creating a resource for women had been birthed prior. I could feel that it was now time to turn my purpose into my passion. However, thoughts of self doubt flooded my mind. What if no one would read my stories? What would happen if no one wanted to share their story? What if it was a complete and utter failure? I had to quickly turn it all off, and imagine the vision at hand. Sure it could have been a total flop... But what if it wasn't? I would never know, unless I tried.

2. You will always learn something new, when you simply try. This year, I have learned a lot. Between hosting events, becoming a Postpartum doula, and simply pressing the publish button, I have learned a few things. I am not tech savvy at all. I'm that annoying person who constantly asks where is the ON button for gadgets that more than likely don't possess a said "ON button." So when I began simply setting up my site, it was quite the adventure. Between the downloading and uploading, and copy and pasting, it was quite the task. But I did it anyway. When confused, I simply googled and sought out YouTube for answers. It worked. This year, I became a Postpartum doula. I wanted to learn how to support women in a tangible way outside of the #NSPP platform. I wanted to become a physical resource for mamas. I studied, read countless books, and attended multiple Doula trainings. I learned that not only could I provide support digitally, but I could become that support and work one on one with the women I would find myself already guiding. This year, I learned how to throw one heck of an event! I learned that listening to what women are in need of is so much more important than pushing your own agenda. People will tell you what they need. And when they don't, simply ask. 

3. Lastly, I learned that what I have to say is important. I often tell my kids that they are capable, worthy, and necessary. This is a mantra that is on repeat in our home. This year, I taught my first class. While preparing my lesson plan, I felt nervous. What did I have to offer? Did I have anything important to teach? Not to mention, the women whom I would be teaching with, were pretty amazing and powerful in their own right. The thought was a bit intimidating. I was scared. However, I held space for myself and the emotions of rejection and fear that accompanied the task at hand. I reminded myself that I had something to say. I reminded myself of the very thing that Jon and I teach our children... I am capable, worthy and necessary. 

With that being said, I am beyond honored to continue on this journey with you. Thank you for being a part of the 22k and counting women who have found their home here at #NSPP. I don't take it lightly. For those of you who have been vulnerable and scared and still found strength and courage to share, thank you. I see you. Thank you for trusting #NotSoPrivateParts with your story. Know that this resource was created with you in mind. Thank you, to all who have rocked with us for a year. Year 2 is going to be amazing.