Heavy as The Head that Wears The Crown.

I haven't been able to write for a while because I know what will come out, but what's the point of blogging if you're not going to be authentic? So, regardless of where my fingers and mind take me, I am going to be transparent and open…

I have been intentional about healing and moving for the last few months. Definitely took a break from even social media and became introverted. Needed to clear away from all the alls. I don't know if that was good or bad, but I know it was required. As I began documenting and capturing moments, the pain from writing or even my mouth was intriguing. I have been in a state of reflection, dedication, and sorting. The battle of healing is a funny one. It shows up in the darnest ways, but then, like a wave, one hit can set you back. But we are here, and I am ready for all that is coming my way.

"I am summering like it's 2015 again…"

I remember telling my friends this as I awoke from that terrible era of bruised love.” As I remember vividly, the summer of 2015 was one to remember. I was traveling, my skin was glowing, and I was outside doing everything! I was vibrant and light. This summer, I was determined to get to know Shannon again, as exuberant as I was then, only more experienced now. As the weather shifts, fall is approaching more swiftly than we would like (I love the fall for fashion). I am pretty sure so is my mindset. This summer was one for the books, I tell you! I found myself adventurous, spontaneous, shifting, and extremely honest. Another takeaway from this summer: "Can you provide what I require?" That was a question I asked myself, people, places, and things, and I am here for it! I had my share of digesting what we would call "humble pie," too. I had to take a few shortcomings on the chin. We will save that story for a later date, though. However, this summer was vital for me as I needed and wanted to embark on contentment. With my world ending at the beginning of the year, figuratively speaking, of course, I took a moment to reinvent who I was, and sis ended up visiting her father in prison after 14 years… I mean, why the hell not, right?

In my defense, the pandemic had taken a toll on visitation, so individuals weren't allowed extended visits for some time. We decided waiting would be best since he was so far from civilization until the COVID-19 ban was lifted. Nonetheless, y'all know I did not like a better excuse than not going see this man. I could not understand how people would make this a joyous event. I remember the first time I saw him; I was 17 years old, tearful, messy, and panicky. My poor mother had no idea how to help me with this one. It was a terrible experience, tucking my clothes, wearing my stepfather's shoes, and waiting after pedigree. Back then, one of the most vivid aspects of the visit was the slamming of the gated bars. That was a sound that resounded with me. Once the visit was over with my father, I high-tailed my happy ass out of the prison, vowing never to endure that scrutiny again. I knew I was never coming back. It was too emotional, gut-wrenching, and damn right, just scary for the 17-year-old that grew up forming a relationship with her father via letters and phone calls. Then, your girl worked for different corrections facets over the years. Falling in love with the idea of justice and fairness. Only to be able to work with people in the same circumstances and hide behind my own fears by visiting him.

Fast forwarding to now, I am unsure, but I woke up on my birthday and said I would visit my father and do it by myself. Maybe it was the bruised love where I gathered the strength from this year. Perhaps it was the sense of losing it all but still breathing? Maybe it was even me realizing my father has served 31 years in prison, and how would I feel if he were to die when I only seen him once? Walking into 31, I knew I wanted to do something different.

I only told a few people that I was embarking on this journey. One of the concepts I battled with was if he died in prison, how would I feel not seeing him when I have nothing but space and opportunity? I also worked in a jail for about two and half years, where it's not the same, but at the same time, it's relatively similar. These are the comparisons I used to get me through this journey.

It was July 8th, a week after my father's birthday. I woke my adventurous ass out of bed ( I had a night of vices and pep talks the night before) and loaded my car to set off for my journey. It was an hour ride, and during that ride, I had my closest friends in my ears cheering me on because they knew my scary ass would have turned that car around. As I drove and took in the scenery, I played the best hits of R&B from Freddie Jackson to Peabo Bryson to calm me down. I approach the military-looking area to find a desolate, quiet place and no one in sight. I’m nervous as hell, sweat dripping down my back because Lord knows I don’t want to do this. I parked as I came to the entrance and picked up the phone from this black box ( like I am in a goddamn scary movie) to hear someone say, “drive to a white building for visitation.” In my head, I am like, what the hell kind of system is this? But I was determined. Let's say this: I got there at 10 am after driving around this godforsaken place to find his camp, going to my car five times to change my bra, shoes, and shirt, and leaving items in the car. I finally made clearance and was seated, waiting for my father by 12 pm. At this point, call me bacon because I was cooking. It was like the hottest day of the year, and of course, they had me seated and waiting with no AC on… Looking around, my dumb ass forgot to bring cash with me to get food and drinks for the vending machines; they need to update that system. It is 2023. So I waited, hungry and in thought. Looking at the different blend of people. Fathers holding their children, laughing, talking, and, I guess, making the best out of the situation. Then there's me, sweating, nervous, wondering if I look nice, wondering if I am ever going to make peace with this part of my life. I wonder if he looks the same, older, maybe? Am I even doing the right thing?

My father finally enters the visiting area, looking pretty spiffy. Clean cut, clean boots, gold chain shining, and, of course, a wide smile. This man introduced me to the officers and some of his 'friends,' and I just smiled. I’m awkward but in awe of the calmness and institutionalization that he embodies. It weakens me. I sympathize with how much this is to take in. We sat for a few hours, of course, just talking. If there is one thing going between us, it is our conversations. Of course, he asks about him being a grandfather, dating, and marriage. Talk about pressure. I look down at my left hand and say sorry, sir, I am not married and have no babies yet…heavy on the yet. We had a long, intense conversation about marriage and why he doesn't believe in it. He dates back to him growing up and seeing his mother (my paternal grandmother) leaving his father, as he puts it, when the chips were down. Separating the family because his father could not financially provide as well as he once did, and safety was a significant concern during his time where they lived in Jamaica. In a sense, his mother deciding to move when he was at the tender age of 16 appeared to taint his view of women, marriage, and vows. He grew hyper-independent, which is a coping mechanism for trauma. Ultimately, that hyper-independence seemed to have much to do with how he got here, but what do I know? It's interesting the dynamic of the conversation. Here I am, a firm believer in love, and God will bless me with a man who will love and appreciate me and my depth. As I wait for the blessing to come my way, I look at my father and realize he never wants to feel that depth I long for, at least from a person. I then wondered if my upbringing, or lack thereof with him, left me with this desire to have a love so deep. I have to bring this up in my next session.

It was nice to see him and to be honest, it was not as bad as the first time, except I was sweating like a thief. I gave him a sincere hug and high-tailed it to my car. I really do not like doing the visits. I hit the highway, and the skies open up with crazy rain. Another reflection: it always rains when I see him. Coincidence, maybe, but in a sense, I think it's a sign that this was supposed to happen. It was a little blessing because the lord knew I was hot as hell and going through it; I needed the rain. I felt a sense of relief and contentment, which is all I wanted. Now, will I make this a weekly thing? Absolutely not; it's still an emotionally taxing aspect of my life I am working through. But can I make a conscious effort more times during the year? I can.

As I have matured, my perception of people and circumstances has evolved, allowing me to make significant changes in my life. Growing up without a father was undoubtedly a challenge that required substantial effort to come to terms with. However, when I started to view my father as a human being rather than just a "dad," it dawned on me that everyone does their best with their resources. I hope that this is the case for all individuals. When my father mentioned his parents' divorce, I shared this perspective with him, hoping it would bring him solace. As I reach 31, I am beginning to shift my mindset. I will no longer coerce individuals to stay in my life if they don't wish to, nor will I tolerate those who don't treat me with respect. Instead, I will cherish those genuinely interested in being a part of my life and approach things with an open heart. It's intriguing how life can suddenly change. On my first visit, I left feeling nothing but sorrow. However, after my most recent visit, I experienced contentment and validation that I am growing. In retrospect, I am grateful for everything that I have and all that I have lost.. …after all,

…heavy as the head that wears the crown.

Until next time y'all! Stay authentic!

God Spins the Block

Besides Spring approaching, the season of transition is here and strong as ever. More than that, everything is hitting at the same time. If you are anything like me, I cannot function with more than about one to three tabs open on my internal computer. Three tabs top! And that's pushing it. If I am going to be effective and ensure things are completed at 100%, up to one to two things at a time. Now with about five pretty big items on my plate-two of them that mean a lot to me damn near in the recycle bin, I am crashing.

I have to admit I was going against the universe. But change is here. As hard as it is, I must accept that this is where the cards are falling. As an anxious person who has to plan everything because, in my head, if I plan, it helps lowers the risk of disappointment. I am obviously wrong because regardless if you plan, where ever the chips fall they just do…and when things do not go as planned…I get triggered. I don’t even know why I waste my time. 

Lord, I really hope you spin the block on this one because sis is out here stressed, and my grays are popping out.

The fear of change I have acquired over the years has been a detriment to many of my decisions, and I don't know where the root derives from. The season I am in and all I am battling with, I am frightened to my core. The last time I remember feeling this shaken was years ago, leaving high school and attending college. At first, when college was on the table, I knew I was going away. I did not care. I saw it on TV. I was watching College Hill. Shannon was going away. I remember meeting my mentor in high school; senior year, we sat and filled out applications.

Syracuse was my number one choice, and when I got in, I was like, damn, I did the thang! It felt good my family was proud. Shoot, I was proud. I was the first person in my immediate family to embark on this journey. However, there was instant regret when it was time to go. It was my first time going away from home. All I ever knew was Brooklyn- my mother and grandmother were all I had, and I was leaving them. During my first few months away, my transition was tough. I was homesick. I didn't like how cold it was physically in Syracuse and internally in my body. I was alone and forced to really grow out of my comfort zone. I would call my mother every day in tears because I was uncomfortable looking for a way out.

It took about three months for me to really find my footing there. I didn't know then but reflecting now, I had to fall into that shit. I had to give it a chance by embracing the discomfort. By the Spring semester, I started to gain traction. I became okay with leaving who I was and embracing who I was becoming. I decided to stay. It became home, and I ended up loving everything about undergrad.

Second Case in point: When I was leaving Syracuse, I planned to go to Law school to become an attorney. Oh dear, this was a rough transition because now I'm like a fake adult but still not fully one at 21. Long behold, Shannon could not for the life of her get a decent score on her LSATs before graduation. I almost took myself out. Graduation was approaching. No job, no internship lined up. I took that bad boy twice and, for the sake of Jesus, could not score at least 165. When I say I was scoring 150 and lower and had the audacity to apply to NYU, Columbia, and Brooklyn Law which, at the time, you had to be damn near perfect, scoring 175-180. When I say blow to the ego, heart, brain, and everything, I was obliterated. How could high school valedictorian, dean's list 3.8 scholar, and prior district attorney intern not be good enough for law school? As a matter of fact, how could things not be set out for the hardest-working person in the room; I did everything as planned.What-the-what was happening here? It's the entitlement for me.

When I graduated and came home, I was at my lowest internally because I did not know what the hell I was doing for the first time in my life, and I did not know where to turn. It was one of the first disappointments of my career-building self and it took a toll on me. I got stuck. Remember the notion of being stuck.

Sidebar, in high school, I remember telling my best friend at the time. No idea if he even remembers this, but we are in Math B class with Mr. Yee. We would always talk about our future, and he would ask me where do you see yourself at 30 years old. The famous age, "30". We had to be about 16 at the time, and I remember telling him I would, for one, have my own Law Firm, Shannon and Associates :), married, living in Cali with my two kids and dog. He definitely laughed at me and said yeah, right. I remember the anguish I felt when he laughed; I was so mad at him. How are you going to pop my bubble like that? That's my dream. He dreamed of going to the NFL or being close to it as a sports agent—a whole Jamaican Bachelor. Crazy how God Spins the block right- In high school, we always competed because he was the star athlete. He never studied, aced all his exams, and just smiled his way through classes and not doing papers. My ass would dead be up studying and writing papers working, and we would end up with the same grades. Oh, that used to kill me, and I never understood it. Now, the crazy thing is he is the family man and has the dream job, or at least from what it seems …and I'm over here still trying to show up and be the best version of myself and constantly fighting with my dog and my shoes- definitely proud of him and his accomplishments. Still, I do not understand how we keep ending up in this loop.

But again, God Spins the block all the time, right? Looking back now, I realize a lot of what I was and currently going through; I definitely had to because then I would have never learned about this idea of ego. We tend to move out of it, making us think we're entitled to things. I should get it because I "plan" for something, right? Wrong. I had this mindset because I had all these accolades; even with a terrible LSAT score, I would have still gotten into these schools. NO! Number 1, I was stuck on staying in New York then. I was in such tunnel vision I limited myself. Like, girl! If you wanted to be an attorney and the opportunity presented itself in Iceland, you would have gone. Opportunities did present themselves, and I shut them down because it was not "a part of my plan." So, subconsciously did I want to go? I am not mad at my decisions then because of where it has led me to today and all that I acquired, the people I have experienced, the memories, the lessons, and the blessings. I also think about being ready for what we ask for in life. We always say what we want, but are we prepared for them? Are we mentally ready for what comes with the asks? Sometimes, we only think of what we want, but do we consider obtaining it? When we get it, how do you keep it? Am I prepared for all that I ask for?

So now, I'm in another season of transition, only now I am much older than before and obtained experience. But I caught myself spiraling down the rabbit hole of despair of why's and tears of the discomfort, which has led me to reflect again. It brought me back to a younger, innocent me because something has to give. This is where the inner work and accountability come in because sometimes it's not about anything else; it's literally about how we show up.

Change is inevitable. It's that one thing you know is constant, and yet transitions trigger the heck out of me? Why? It's really because I am unsure what will happen on the other side. None of us do. I usually tend to see things as black and white. Yes or no, but in retrospect, nothing is always that rigid. Resilience is an excellent way to think of maneuvering through life's transitions. Every encounter, whether you view it as good or bad (no judgments necessary), has molded us to show up differently. It's important to remember that. Especially as we are getting older, it's also important to feel how we feel, but we don't have to get stuck in it. That is my downfall; I get confused and stuck in that state. Remember, I said to remember about being stuck. It happens when I get stuck because I haven't figured it out. If it does not make sense to me (like a math problem), I can't move to the next thing, but actually, you can proceed. Even when it hurts, push a bit. Little by little. When you realize it and look back, you've moved far from where you started. I realized then I don't always have to wait for clarity to keep moving.

As I keep moving forward, even with the little steps, I asked to be prepared for everything coming my way as it becomes clearer…hence God spinning the block.

Shan Retrograde

I've been gone for a minute, but I'm back, baby! Like I never left, okay, I did, but sis was going through it. I needed to take a major hiatus as life started to life forreal. With school, work, friends, and love, I have been on a rollercoaster ride, and yall know I don't do amusement parks. Anyone else trying to catch their breath?

The other day, I took it upon myself to reread some of my material from the previous year, and wow. I realize why people say never to reread your old journals...my goodness. The pain. The humor. The drama...

I was in my bag, or maybe as I am learning to be more graceful to myself...I was just going through some things…I was discussing some deep stuff. I talked about this whole shift as I was on this journey to thirty, and now it's here. I talked about all my relationships shifting and not feeling like friends weren't really friend-ing. Romance wasn't really romance-ing. Then I also realized I could have shown up better in some of my relationships and how therapy and some intense conversations really helped me. Talking is sooo good for the soul yall. Don't bottle up what's inside, even when it's uncomfortable.

Well, since then…adulting continues to kick me in the ass. Rent prices continue to skyrocket. My dog continues to give me an attitude. My office mate works my last nerve, but I am so grateful.

To date, I am coming to terms with the fact that the more I plan, the more I realize I have a control issue. I need to stop telling God my plan and ask for guidance. What I mean is…sometimes we get so caught up with "these plans" to have things exactly how we see it in our heads and whenever life steers me in a different direction, I go absolutely bonkers. It's the…" I'll be married by this… I'll have this amount of money for this… I'll do this for that…" and then there's a sudden shift, and I don't know about all of you, but I do not do well when things do not go well with my plan. It’s like why do I have these things in my heart if it’s not time? But that’s for another discussion.

So, as I try to tackle this new perspective of thirty, adulting, and thinking…I am also returning to what I do best—getting to know and falling into adult Shan. How do I do this? Lord only knows, but I will take it one day at a time. I plan on falling into my purpose with writing, living, loving, and, most of all, praying …

The hope is to write about it along the journey.

Welcome back y'all. Stay tuned.