DEAR IMANI: An Unexpected Birthday Letter, 2011

Dear Imani,

It’s here after 39 years of ups and downs, the 40^th birthday has arrived, and lots have happened leading to this day!

Last year at this time, you sat among the dimness of your bedroom with only your laptop screen blaring before your eyes, writing about your hopes and aspirations walking toward 2011.  So far, everything that you’ve written has come true, or in the process of coming true. 

WRITING

No, you’re not a published author as of yet. You have always been the type of woman who likes order and making sure every t is crossed and every i is dotted before diving into life-changing decisions.  It is no different than committing yourself on getting healthy.  You have to find discipline within yourself to make the necessary change to become successful.  And that’s what you’ve done; you’ve lost the mental weight of negative thoughts and took your beliefs to a higher level. 

Your short story, Nikki Robinson will be coming to eBooks when your finances permit, as well as your novella, Untimely Revelations will be release in late winter.  Your business plan is coming to action.  Patience is indeed a virtue.

As for your play, The Shattered Mogul, it nearly got swept underneath a pile of your other stories.  The idea of turning this short story into a play wasn’t new for you.  You’ve planned this all along while writing your book.  It just the fact you needed to believe it to achieve it.  Then after your mother’s passing, it was as though as she whispered in your ear like a serene angel early one morning and told you do this.  Well, it’s done and now it’s time to take what you’ve created to the next level.  Get it in production!

MY FAT BUSINESS

It’s always nice to find humor from the pain one’s suffers. Not being able to breathe or walk isn’t a joke, but finding a lighter side to the agony certainly is. 

Getting up at first light for over a year, takes strict commitment.  Sleeping past 6:30 a.m. isn’t in your vocabulary. You love to see and feel God’s nature as you run to stay healthy. 

It was never about being a size 2, but as you wrote in last year’s My Birthday Blog, you had said, I don’t have a particular weight goal. I just want to be able to fit in cute jeans and not freakin’ MOM JEANS or tight ass elastic jeans that my 82-year-old Grandmother wouldn’t wear herself.  I just want to get healthy. 

You went past those expectations; you even made your Grandmother proud.  If you don’t mind, I may add that losing 8 pants sizes was a major accomplishment. Those baby steps you’ve taken turned into a sprint toward the finish line.

Next goal: To run in the mini-marathon to raise money for Multiple Sclerosis.

HERE COMES 40!

Now that you finally tasted a little of that Pink Strawberry off the Ice Cream Man’s truck, it is time for you to devour every flavor.  Better yet, do a hostile takeover and turned his truck into your upcoming business, Wickedly Sweet Ink.

Has anyone have ever asked you what Wickedly Sweet Ink is?

Wickedly Sweet derive from a combination from two things personal from your life.  You once lived in painful solitude of wicked darkness, treading in a circle to a point of no return.  Then you’ve blossomed in 2011 into a sweet pink rose.  It’s understandable you want to take your battle scars of the past to your new endeavors.  Forgetting what you’ve been through isn’t an option.  Learning from the past choices, and turning them into a teachable moments should also help others overcome their own darkness. 

Uhmmm, I see why you have a feature blog entitled, Imani’s “How to” Moments.  Turn your eff up’s into humor, inspiring, or both.  Make sense.

Mani, I got the feeling 2012 will be even better than 2011.  You’ve grown from a timid woman who wore her low self-esteem on her size 18 sleeve, to a CEO of your publishing company, a writer, aspiring author, playwright, and a vegetarian athlete who don’t believe in the I can’t, I won’t, I shouldn’t, and the I don’t believe’s.  

Now if you excuse me, your future self has pressing matters to do.  No, it’s not attending another book signing or tour.  Nope, this is something I know you’ll be pleased.  This has been eluding you for quite some time.  Now that I have it—or rather him—he’s enjoying the ride as much as you do. 

Make 40 special, girl!  We’ll be waiting.

40 should be interesting...

Your future self,

Imani

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MY BIRTHDAY BLOG, 2010

Happy Birthday, Mr. President

This blog was written one year ago next week (2010). I find this post interesting because everything that I have wrote has came true, or it's in the process of becoming true.  Stay tuned for the July 15th post, my annual birthday blog, with new hopes and aspirations. Enjoy!


It's here! My 39^th birthday!!!!

On this day, I’m doing something I haven’t done in a while, and that’s writing a blog!  Yeah, I know, it’s been minute, but here I am writing another bit of random thoughts.

I felt compelled to write, not because I’m whining of getting old, but to celebrate the last 38 years of my life. Compared to others who I grew up with or long time classmates, my expectations have grown short. I didn’t go straight to college after high school. Instead, I had kids, at the time with my high school sweetheart, worked at the Post Office, lost my job at the Post Office, moved back home to care for my ailing Mother, got depressed and got fat, lost over 100lbs, kept it off for eight years and got fat again. Before I knew among the drama, my little babies weren’t babies anymore. I have two grown men: 20 and 19 along with a 13-year-old daughter. People, time had become an enemy!

Out of all of the tears I shed, I didn’t look at life the same.  Dark shield hovered my eyes and blinded to what I was suppose to have seen all of this time.  God don’t make junk! I was more focus on the have’s and the have-not’s; the cars, houses and Mr. Right Now! I couldn’t see my blessings before me. I have three brightly talented children, a supportive family, a hooptie (but hooptie runs), and roof over my head even though it’s my Grandmother’s house. I seriously can’t complain! There are people who don’t have any of these things.  The dark shield that covered my brown eyes has now been lifted and I now see a beautiful world; a world that’s vast enough to share my talents.

So where do I go from here?  Continue to allow mediocrity to dictate my dreams?  Not a cold day in Hell! It seems now I’m running after the Popsicle Man’s truck to get that “Unique” ice cream bar. Yet, this ice cream bar is everything I always wanted to do. From traveling to publishing my first book or writing a play, I’m ready to put these 20 years of fear aside and grab that metaphorical ice cream bar!  I know I can be highly ambitious because I was committed for two years on losing 110lbs. So I know it’s there! All it takes for me is to get moving and stop listening to Satan!

Now I consider the next 365 days “Do or Die” for me. Of course, I’m not saying I’ll dramatically die of a broken heart because I didn’t achieve major accomplishments. Baby steps is my goal. If Lord willing, my book or produce a play becomes converted from my short story, all I have to say is thank you, Lord!

And to the grown and sexy who’s nearing or are 40 and up! Our lives aren’t over and our dreams aren’t dead!  When you finish reading this blog, think about that one thing you always wanted to do. Lose Weight? {{raising hand….again}} Go back to school? Quit smoking? Stop that destructive behavior {{you know who you are}} Write a book?....Travel?....Or settling down from being a 40 year old playa?  Whatever it is, just do it! There’s nothing worse than to lie on your deathbed regretting the shoulda, coulda, and woulda’s.  The time to pursue your dreams is NOW!

Before I close this blog, I’m about to put myself out there. Below is a non-glammed up picture with no make-up, no weave, and plus-size sexy clothes. Hopefully this pic will be my “before” photograph.  I don’t have a particular weight goal. I just want to be able to fit cute jeans and not freakin’ MOM JEANS or tight ass elastic jeans that my 82-year-old Grandmother wouldn’t wear herself.  I just want to get healthy.

Signing off to enjoy the next 23 hours and I gotta pee.  I couldn’t break from sharing my random thoughts to all you readers =o)

Stay blessed,

Imani 

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IMANI'S "HOW TO" MOMENT: IT'S MY FAT BUSINESS!

Once upon time, it was a very obese woman who was on the verge of mental and physical collapse.  Despite her unhappiness with her appearance, the woman ate foods that was high in fat and didn’t bother to do regular exercises.  She just continued to wail in pity and turned to food as comfort until one day she saw herself in the mirror and burst into tears.

“Oh my God” She cried out loud, “How did I loose control?”

As she continued to weep, the woman’s eyes wandered to her feet and then to her plump thighs, and traveled with a disgust gaze to her breast.  The woman knew she had to make a change in her life. So she pondered the possibilities and literally took a long look at herself.

I’ll share more about this woman in a moment. But first, there’s something I need to address. It’s matter of life and death.

Being fat has become a booming business. You see it everyday on both sides of the spectrum.  On one side, you go grocery shopping and you’ll most likely see sales items that are perfectly display to attract your attention. You’ll also see on the back of these labels the high calories and fat content. These items are affordable to feed a family.  It’s survival to the fittest (no pun intended).

My advice: Be smart and use common sense.  Cut back on your portion sizes, cut back or stop on soda consumption, and do not sprinkle extra sodium on your foods. Most of the cheaper foods are processed, which means it’s already loaded with salt. Over use of salt can lead to water retention and other health related problems.

Now on the other side of the fat business is the billion dollar weight loss industry.  There are so many videos, books, and classes to help you reach your goal. Even Wii and Xbox have joined the fray against fat.  Wherever go, you’ll see products to help shed those unwanted pounds.  It’s Capitalism at its best! 

My advice: Whether you choose low or high impact cardio, your body will love you for it.  Compared to elite runners who run ten to twenty miles a week, a ten minute brisk walk is better than anything at all. The point is to get moving and stay moving.  If you’re morbidly obese, those ten minutes is the summit of your journey. Baby steps are all you need to make a life-saving change to your life.

As for that woman I mentioned earlier, she decided to make a change for the better.  The enhancements to her life had improved her mind, body, and soul.  She hasn’t been experiencing sore joints, out-of-control hypertension, or shortness of breath.  This person is a new woman.  Who is she?

She’s me!

At 80 pounds later, I am a new woman.  It took a little over year to get far and beyond my goal.  I can walk freely without pain, breath easier, and more importantly, my blood pressure sits around at 120/80—perfect.

Final advice: Make your weight loss journey fun.  To continue to your goal, participate in 5k’s or mini marathons. Preserver to the things you thought you couldn’t or wouldn’t do.  Although I walked a half-marathon before, I said it’s something I would never do—not ever! Well, I already ran my first 5k with the time of 38:42. I’m going to run my next one in November, hoping to improve my time.  Then May 2012, I’m running the half-marathon to raise money for Multiple Sclerosis.  My ultimate dream is run to a full marathon.

My Imani’s “How to” Moment is cutting back on portion sizes, stop or cut back on soda consumption, incorporate whole grains in your diet, and don’t forget your veggies. If you eat meat, make sure they’re lean like, turkey or chicken. Do eat Omega-3, for example Salmon. Read the package labels. Use your common sense. If you know something has a lot of fats or sugar, eat them sparingly. Most of all drink your water and get to moving. If your treat your body like a temple, it will love you back in return.

See, there wasn’t a need for me to write a long winded blog on loosing weight.  What works for me, may not work you.  The point of writing of this post is to let you know there’s always a common sense approach on weight loss.  You don’t have to spend a lot of money.  Just get off the couch or computer, and move and stop  eating stuff you know that aren't good for you!

So what are you waiting for? Let’s get to moving!

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THE NIGHT I WOKE UP AND SMELLED THE BULLSHIT!

Light rain drops tapped the window sill on a crisp fall night. He was lying on the bed with only his red boxers trying to hide his regretful feelings. I stood in the doorway of the bedroom holding what was left of my belongings, waiting for his answer. Silence deafened the room. I wiped the tears from eyes and asked, “Well, did you or did you not?” He remained silent as he looked up at the ceiling. 

“Did you hear me?” I asked as I fought back the tears, “Did you or didn’t you?”

Again, he remained silent. I grabbed the rest of my things from the closet and thrown them in a tiny suitcase. I looked at the bed as he remained lying in the same position while he continued to stare at the ceiling. I bitterly shook my head and walked out the front door.


For years since high school, our relationship was a crowded one. It was him, me, and another chick….or him, the other chick, and I…..or the other chick, him, and I…..either way, we lived Barney the Purple Dinosaur’s mantra, Sharing is Caring, but only a step further with his little swimmers, swimming back and forth making babies and more babies. Before I knew it, he fathered eight children between us (two passed away in 1995).


I tried being the good and devoted girlfriend by being there for his kids, loving kids, and supporting all of his endeavors. If anyone knows what it’s like to find out the man you love got another girl pregnant, it’s an indescribable feeling. You feel numb at first, then hatred, then denial, then depression, and finally anger. Almost like the five stages of grief (Denial and Isolation, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, and Acceptance). It’s that thin line between love and hate. It is real and painful as a gangrenous wound. Bandaging those feelings was painstakingly to cover. The hurt was too raw.


After I closed the door, the tears poured down my caramel-color face. I didn’t want to cry in front of him. I couldn't scream and throw things at him. I was tempted to grab all of his clothes and start a woman-got-scorned bonfire. Yet still, doing revenge will ease the hurt temporary. The smell of his burnt clothes, cleaning up broken glass, and crying in front of him until my eyes swelled, didn’t change the fact that I faced an uncertain future. The great African American author, Toni Morrison quote, “When a man angers you, he conquers you.". Allowing him numerously to cheat on me already had conquered me. It was time to sprout my backbone to walk tall through another tribulation of heartache and move forward, even if trepidation still was an overwhelming factor.


As I pack the car with my suitcase and my sons’ photos, his silhouette stood in the window. I could tell his arms were folded. It was almost as though as his body language was lurking in the shadows with guilt, I suppose that was his way of apologizing. Nevertheless when I arrived inside to grab one last thing, I gazed at him for one last time. “Are you going to open your mouth now?” I asked.


We were standing in the darkness of the living room. The only light that was available was the street lights shining through the window blinds. He then slowly turned into my direction. “Just let me say this,” he said with a nervous sigh, “I wouldn’t bring anyone to our home or bring a stranger in our bed….”


My heart felt as though it skipped several beats when he uttered those words. He didn’t have to confirm my suspicion.  By saying that statement, it was ample proof. Even if he hadn’t brought another woman to our home and done things with her in our bed, it didn’t make a difference, he fucked her again and that was that!


While he continued to spew more excuses of the why’s, how’s, and you-have-to-believe me rhetoric, I discovered a scent that I should have noticed for years. It’s the kind of scent that’s only reserve for liars, thieves, and ignorant asses. The aroma of bullshit! 

The bad thing about noticing the BS, I’ve been blindly walking through a vast ocean of it. The smell of its contents didn’t catch my essence until that night. I’d grown tired of his shit. It’s was time for him to hear me out!


“The only thing I want to hear coming for your lips is the truth,” I angrily interrupted, “Is she pregnant again? I don’t want to hear your tired explanations, because honestly, it makes no difference where you screwed her.  You stuck your dick up her, again. You did things to her that you was suppose to do me, again. So, basically she’s pregnant, isn’t she? And this time, don’t lie. I’m not stupid!”

He sat on the arm of the couch with his arms still folded and bowed his head in shame. Then my ex took a deep breath and nervously uttered, “Yes—yes, she is.”


My first instinct was to enrage with hatred and throw anything I could put my hands on and knock his cheating ass unconscious.  Instead, I grabbed the rest of my things and left out the door without acknowledging his reply. I knew after that moment, I had to pull myself out of a pool of his of bullshit or sink it in and drown, and drowning wasn't an option. 


From that day on, those tribulations became a painful life lesson. It revolutionized my way of thinking on life; transformed my trust into cynicism. For years, my knowledge of love had become a distant memory. I forgot to love romantically. I even lost the love to love myself. It is easy for a person (man or woman) to shelter the blame when they’d been through a riotous relationship. Some will say, “It’s me. I didn’t do enough to please s/he” or “I should’ve been a better man” or “I should’ve paid more attention to him in the bedroom”.  The only mistake is you kept holding on to a person whose self-esteem is so low that having several significant others made them fulfilled.  And that’s one mistake that I refuse to do over.


© Imani Wisdom, 2010

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