This Chapter is Ending...

Hi friends, I hope your new year is off to a wonderful start. I am writing this while fighting off a wicked sinus/upper respiratory infection, which has given me time to think about…everything. I’m going to keep this post brief, because it is going to be the last one for an indefinite amount of time.

When I launched this blog, the goal was to share some of my most vulnerable moments in a relatable way so that other people wouldn’t feel alone in their struggles. Somewhere along the way I got lost in the social media frenzy of inspirational speaking, making life lessons out of everything, and feeling like I had to audition to prove my growth as a person to the masses, and I’m not proud of that. So for now, I’m taking a break from contributing to this platform. I do however plan to continue to write and perform spoken words and hopefully my life will be a light to those who may need inspiration in the real world.

I’ll leave you all with these few tidbits:

1.      Growth doesn’t happen online. It’s hard, messy, and you can’t share it all on platforms with people who don’t understand you or your journey. It’s sacred.

2.      There is no need to audition for authentic community. The people that rock with you are going to do it because of who you are, not who you pretend to be.

3.      Putting your validation in people and accomplishments is never going to work. People are fickle, trends change, and accomplishments come and go.

This isn’t a goodbye friends, but a see you later. I hope to catch up with some of you in real life and form some meaningful connections.

With love,

Candace

Sometimes the bloopers are the best part

Hi Friends,

I don’t know about you, but life has been kicking my entire tail lately. I have not been ok and I realized that I probably have been in a high functioning depressive state for months now. A few weeks ago it all came out and I’ve been an avalanche of tears and anger ever since. In the midst of one of my crying spells, I came across an IG video of bloopers from The Office (yes I was crying and scrolling on IG) and in the midst of my laughter I heard the words “sometimes the bloopers are the best part”. Let’s just be honest for a second; there is a lot going on, and life is hard for many of us right now. We live in a society that is obsessed with always putting our best foot forward at all times, and that’s just not realistic. Sometimes we break, sometimes we fail, sometimes we fall…and sometimes it’s funny.

If you’re lost, stay with me.

I’m going to liken our lives to an expensive TV production. Exorbitant amounts of time and money are spent on making sure these productions look flawless; hair, makeup, fancy lighting and special effects. Most of us do the same things with our lives. We spend money (or time) that we don’t have to fit in with people we don’t even like or align with, use filters to hide how we really look, and present a flawless picture on social media or around our friends. But just like in TV shows, our lives have bloopers too. Sometimes we get a little clumsy or tongue tied, or things get a little messy. That’s ok.

It’s not so common now, but movies and TV shows used to save the last few minutes during the credits to give us a glimpse into the bloopers; where the actors messed up or where the scene didn’t go as planned. If you were like me, almost all of it was funny, and it was a time to appreciate the cast and crew as human beings who are flawed and make mistakes. At times the bloopers were the best part of the show or movie. It’s the same with us. I’m sure many of us have had gatherings with friends where we bonded and laughed over past mistakes and embarrassing moments, and for me that’s been some of the best moments of fellowship.

Sometimes the bloopers are the best part. Sometimes the outtakes of our lives make for the most belly-aching laughter. Embrace that; life isn’t perfect and neither are you. Stop trying to be.

Life is hard, take a breather, and remember it isn’t over until you quit—so don’t.

Love always,

CDOG

Oh how things change...

Hi friends,

It’s taken me a while to gather my thoughts for today’s post and I’m still not sure I’ve been successful, but we’re here now. Before I get into my introspective thoughts, a few fun updates: I’m going to be a doctor! I’ll begin my PhD journey next month and it still hasn’t hit me yet. (I’m sure it will once that first paper is due, though. 😂) I celebrated my 32nd birthday with friends, and I was once again reminded of the value of my platonic community. I am trying and utterly failing to come up with a good segue into the real point of this post, so we’ll just dive right in.

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If 19-year-old me saw the current me in a coffee shop, she would consider me a failure. Not making 6 figures at 32? Failure. Still living in an apartment? Failure. No husband or kids? (mega failure) Still struggling with her faith? (Figures) Don’t own a business? (Girl, what are you even doing?!) Taking gap years between a bachelor’s and master’s degree? (Underachiever) By the age of 32 I thought my life would look like this: I’d be a primary care physician running her own practice in Baltimore, MD, a wife with two children, a dog, and going to the same church I grew up in. Here is what 19-year-old me couldn’t have predicted at 32:

I’m not ready for children. I’m not ready for marriage (yet). I may never own a house; I’ve fallen in love with condos and the fact that someone else does maintenance for me. The gap years I took between my bachelor’s and master’s degrees gave me the experience to breeze through that second degree with a 3.97 GPA. Everyone doesn’t have to be a business owner to be successful. Yes, my faith is holding on by a thread, but it’s still there. We’ve all heard the saying “If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans”, and I can confidently say that is true. My life has gone nothing like the 19-year-old me would have thought, and I’m grateful for it. If I married young, I probably would have been divorced by now, if I had tons of money, I would have mismanaged it, and if God had given me everything I wanted, I would have no reason to lean on Him.

So, at 32, I am grieving the life I could have had, but I am also thankful for the life I do have. I am healing the many years of physical childhood abuse suffered at the hands of those who were supposed to protect me and making room for the people in my life who hold space for me. I am taking care of what I’ve been given because I know that there is purpose in even the small things. I continue to show up with a smile because I know it’s never too late unless I quit…which I won’t.

Oh, how things change, and I’m so grateful for it.

Vulnerability Hour

It’s 9:57pm on a Saturday evening, and I’m sitting on my couch debating if I should even press “publish” on this post. I don’t have most social media anymore, but one of the messages that I would constantly see was that women who desired companionship were weak.

“There are so many things to do and you want to spend your time with a man?”

Personally I think it’s more nuanced than that. Before I continue I don’t want to dismiss the importance of a platonic community, especially mine. No, I do not go through this life in isolation. In fact, I’ve probably been around more people in the last year or two than I’ve been in the last 10.

And still at the end of the evening, I come home to an empty apartment, and the silence is deafening. I’ve written about my upbringing and how it had as affected my views on relationships and intimacy. I thought I had mostly healed from that until about 9:15am today. It’s my hope that my extreme vulnerability inspires someone to be honest with themselves and how they may be feeling; about this subject or any other.

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I wasn’t supposed to be here today.”

I wasn’t supposed to be here today.

Alone.

At 32, I thought maybe I’d have another hand and heart intertwined with mine.

Maybe another body to come home to.

Maybe a few—okay, even just one—pair of tiny feet greeting me at the door, waving a painting from school like it’s a Picasso.

I wasn’t supposed to be here today.

They told me if I just followed God… and all the rules—oh, so many rules—

That I’d be rewarded.

With a tall, dark, and handsome man as my consolation prize.

Well… I’m still waiting on the other side of that door.

But now I wonder… does the door even exist?

You see, I didn’t grow up like other little girls.

No one told me I was pretty.

No one showed me how to braid my hair.

“God doesn’t like makeup,” they said. “And don’t wear red.”

Then I grew into these hips and thighs,

And they criticized that too.

“Who are you trying to impress?”

As if I asked for this body to be shaped like the soda y’all drink too much of.

That’s coke, by the way.

Then came the eyes.

So many eyes.

Lingering. Wandering.

And all I wanted to do was hide.

“Cover your body!” they said.

But why?

Why keep all of this… covered?

So I did.

I covered myself. With silence. With clothes. I hid the beauty that I grew into, or perhaps…I already had.

With eyes lowered to the ground—because that’s humility… right?

Still waiting.

Still hoping that door would open.

But not even a shake of the handle.

I’m doing everything “right,” right?

God?

Can you hear me?

It took me 32 years to realize…

The prize was never a man.

The prize… is me.

And if one should come and sweep me off my feet—sure, I’ll be swept.

But marriage is not a reward for good behavior.

And that tall, dark, and handsome fella?

He’s not the solution.

The light comes from within.

I see it now.

And I hope you see it too.

There’s so much life left to live.

Just keep breathing, baby girl.

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I don’t think I have much of a formal cheery ending for this today, and I’m ok with that.

Until next time,

CDOG

I hate running, so I'm doing a 5k 😊

Hi friends! It’s a new year, and I hope it’s starting out the way you envisioned. If not, there is plenty of time left, so give yourself some grace (please). If you follow me on Instagram you have probably seen my frequent complaints about running. I absolutely hate it. I have to adjust my breathing, sometimes my legs burn, my knees usually hurt after, and for me it’s just plain uncomfortable.

As a kid I was really tall and slim, so my parents signed me up for track, and at the end of that practice, I was no longer on the team. (My disdain runs deep). As an adult I have had people try pressure me to run for various reasons “Oh it’s good for you” “You have the body for it” blah, blah. 😂

I have a close and personal relationship with comfort. I like things that are familiar and routine. Stability is my love language. It’s been great, except I’ve found myself hitting a plateau in several areas of my life. A comfort zone is a no growth zone after a while. So, I decided to put myself through the ultimate discomfort and sign up for a 5k. After a couple weeks of training, I’ve discovered that *maybe* running isn’t so bad after all. Here are a few of the lessons I’m learning:

·         Sometimes you have to adjust: One of the biggest setbacks for me as a “runner” was my breathing pattern. I had to completely adjust my breaths while running, and at first it was so awkward. Sometimes in life we have to do the same thing. If something doesn’t work, try something else. As long as you’re still breathing, it’s never too late to pivot.

·         Maybe it’s painful because you aren’t prepared: After my first few runs, my knees were in shambles. After complaining to a few friends they would ask me things like “Well what shoes were you wearing?” or “Do you have a foam roller?” I quickly realized that I had none of the right equipment. I’m proud to say that I got a proper pair of running shoes and I’m actually looking forward to my post weight lift run today. It’s incredible how preparation can make even the most daunting tasks seem possible.

·         The pain doesn’t last forever: Running hurts, and usually once I feel the burn of my muscles, I stop. The longer you run, the more your muscles adapt, and the pain eventually hits a plateau. So don’t quit, the pain can’t last forever.

I hope this year you do something that makes you uncomfortable. Take yourself on a solo date, run a 5k, dive into that idea you’ve been putting off. It’s never over unless you quit.

Love always,

CDOG

We're all trying to figure it out...

Hi friends. It’s the end of another year and if nobody else tells you, I am proud of you. If any of you are like me, you hold yourselves to extremely (sometimes impossible) standards and then become irrationally upset when you don’t meet that standard. One of the things that came to mind in trying to reconcile with this was “We’re all just trying to figure it out.” Despite not having any social media but Instagram, I still fell victim to the mirage that everyone seemed to have it figured out but me. My friends had to bring me back down to reality and drill into my head that I’m not the only one going through things.

I’ve spent some time taking inventory of my year and I’ve had some very high, highs (graduating with my MPH, being inducted into an honor society), but some very low, lows (had a cancer scare, dealt with depression). I’ve had to constantly remind myself to be where my feet are, because I sometimes still feel like I’m failing at this life thing. However the thing about failure is that it comes with lessons, and I’ve got plenty of then for y’all, so let’s get to it.

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You may not be everyone’s cup of tea, and that’s ok. As someone who likes to be liked by everyone, this year taught me that this won’t always be the case. Sometimes people won’t even have a reason that they dislike you, but guess who’s problem that is? Not yours.

Your body [shape] doesn’t determine your worth. I took my fitness journey more seriously than I ever have this year, and while I saw incredible results, I also feel deep into body dysmorphia and toxic gym culture. Nobody has a perfect body all the time, and I held myself to that impossible standard. It’s fine if I have an off day (or a few).

You are enough. Rejection is tough, and boy was this year full of it; romantically, career wise, financially; you name it, I heard “no” about it. It was rough, but I am realizing that I am enough and as long as I know that, it’s all good.

Do it alone. If you are waiting on someone/ something to enjoy life, you’ll never enjoy it.

It’s fine to be human. Let people love you. It’s ok to cry. Your flaws don’t make you unlovable, and you don’t have to be perfect.

It’s been a wild ride this year, but I hope some of the lessons I’ve had to learn this year resonate with you. I’d love to hear some of the lessons you’ve learned, so feel free to drop them in the comments.

Cheers to a great end of this year, and a fantastic new one.

Love always,

CDOG

A series of one-liners...

Hi friends. It’s November, so…Happy Holidays. 😂

If you’ve been here awhile then you know I constantly keep about 20 open tabs in my head, and one of them happened to be an idea for today’s post. When I’m overwhelmed, writing is one of the things that grounds me, and I hope that the lessons I’m learning and my struggles have been a source of hope for someone else. Today is going to be a little different. Instead of one post, I’ve scoured my previous posts and will present to you a series of one-liners that stood out to me. Some of these may be relevant to you, and some may not, so take what you need, and leave what you don’t (or maybe share it with someone else).

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“Speak life over yourself. Be kind and gracious, because the world is not.”

“Just breathe.”

“There is room for everyone to win.”

“I’m most attractive when I’m happy, healthy, and healing.”

“I have come to learn that the person who asks for little will receive even less.”

“I didn’t fail, I just found something that didn’t work, and I’ll pivot to something that does.”

“Most people are trying to do the best they can, and need more grace than we usually give.”

Remember it’s not over until you quit. So don’t.

P.S. I’m writing this at 11:55pm after taking a 4-hour nap. Never take a 4-hour nap at 6pm. Never.

P.P.S. While these one liners are good, I thought I was going to have at least ten to share with you all. I need to step up my game. 😂

Something about timing...

Hello friends! It’s a crisp 68 degrees, and it’s time for all the wonderful things that fall brings (no, I’m not a rapper). Fall has become one of my favorite seasons, maybe because it reminds me that everything changes, whether we want it to our not. It’s a true time of transition; leaves turn a bounty of colors, flower buds dry up, animals begin to migrate for the winter season. In some ways this seems to mirror my life as well, since I seem to be shedding layers of my old self in preparation of whatever is to come (although if it wants to come a little quicker, I’d welcome it).

If you know me even a little, then you know that my initials spell CDOG. It’s usually at the end of every blog post, and incorporated in some way into my social media handles. As proud as I am of my full name now, as a kid I felt embarrassed by one of my middle names: Ogechi. It sounded weird, and when I found out what I meant, I wasn’t really pleased either. Ogechi is a name usually given to girls and derived from the Igbo words “oge” (meaning time) and “chi” (meaning God).

Essentially it means “God’s timing is best”.

Now you would think I’d be excited that I have a name that deals with divine timing. Wrong. Ya girl here is a little impatient, especially when it seems that I’ve been praying, working toward, and waiting for certain things for most of my adult life. It’s hard y’all. I am a person that likes things in a certain way, and needless to say, my life hasn’t gone in any of those directions, and I can’t necessarily say that I’m pleased with the outcome so far.

So, how do I reconcile with those thoughts?

1. Practicing gratitude. It sounds cliché’, but even as I’m writing this I’m lamenting about the timing of my life and how it’s not exactly what I want. But in the same breath, I’m also audibly saying things that I’m grateful for. It doesn’t matter how small it is.

2. Laughing at the irony between how I feel and the name I was given at birth. I am of the belief that names hold power, and my life is certainly a testimony to the power of my name. It may seem that I’m a late bloomer, but maybe it just isn’t my time yet. I am hopeful that when it is, the work and the wait will be worth it.

3. Embrace what I feel. Part of the reason I don’t have social media outside of IG anymore is because it’s fake. Even if you look at my current IG page you would never know I carry deep feelings of resentment almost daily. We only show the good parts. Part of this blog’s purpose is to show some of the parts that don’t make the feed. So yes, I feel it all. Envy, regret, anger, and frustration.

4. Have hope. I’m still breathing, so it’s not over yet.

If this post resonated with you, I’d love to hear from you.

Stay encouraged, y’all.

Love always,

CDOG

This Will Hurt.

Hello friends! It’s been a few months since I’ve posted, and usually that would bother me, but I’m freeing myself from the pressure of writing when I don’t feel that I have anything of substance to share. Sometimes that may mean a few months in between posts, but I can assure you that quality is better than quantity (at least that’s what I keep hearing). I’ve been switching back and forth between different Netflix shows, and this month I’ve landed on “Fear the Walking Dead” (it’s not as good as the original series, but when are spin offs comparable anyway?). In this episode one of the main characters was bitten pretty badly by a dog, survived and ended up in a small hospital. The doctor examined the wound and before he put some antiseptic on it he said “This will hurt”.

It’s been a very interesting few months for me. A few things I’ve been working on may finally be coming to fruition (or so I sincerely hope), and it’s been a transitional period both physically and mentally. But guess what?

It hurts.

A few months ago I started a new exercise regimen. It forced me to get out of the mundane gym routine I was used to and literally push my body to do things that felt awkward and at times very uncomfortable. In short, it hurt. A lot. Some days I didn’t feel like getting out of bed because my muscles were just that sore. (Don’t forget to stretch kids.) It’s been a few months and I can proudly say that I’m extremely proud of what I see in the mirror. It hurt, but it worked.

Emotionally it’s been the same way for me. In order to elevate, I’ve had to become more disciplined in almost every area of my life. It’s required me to take a good look in the mirror and guess what? Sometimes that hurts. Finances have always been a big stressor for me, and even though I am doing the best with the cards I’ve been dealt, I had to make some changes too. It hurt. As an empath, its easy for me to feel and take on other people’s burdens. I had to stop and realize that it’s not my job to save everyone. That hurts. Just as I’ve had to physically use muscles I’ve never used in the last few months, I’ve had to stretch some emotional muscles too, and you guessed it. It hurts.

Sometimes in order to move forward you have to be stretched, and you’re definitely going to feel it. But guess what? You’ll also grow from it. Remember, it’s not over yet.

Love always,

CDOG

Clichés the gym made to be true 🙃

Hi friends! I hope you’re doing well. Can we discuss how quickly June came and went? It’s basically Christmas (I don’t make the rules here). If you follow me on social media, you’ve probably either been annoyed or surprised at my constant gym photos. Let’s just be honest for a second. Growing up in a world where social media seems to dictate beauty standards is difficult, and for a while I never felt like I fit the bill. I started taking my physical health seriously in 2017, and I was in great shape. For the first time in a long time, I felt good about how my body looked, and then COVID hit and derailed all my progress in a matter of 6 months. It seemed like every spare pound within a 5-mile radius decided to attach itself to my body, and I was not happy with it. I remember when it was safe to go to the gym again, I would often opt for outdoor workouts so the regulars wouldn’t notice how much weight I gained.

Four years later and I’m finding my mojo again. I still have the weight, but with the help of strength training and (mostly) clean eating, I’ve been able to build a physique I’m mostly satisfied with. Over the last 7 years, the gym has taught me a myriad of lessons that seem to mirror things that need reinforcement in my daily life, most of which happen to be clichés that have been proven to be true (at least for me). My hope is that these help you as well:

·       Be patient: I am impatient. I like for things to happen when I want them to, and usually that’s right now. Except you can’t build muscle overnight. Going from a 135-pound college freshman to a 175-pound built young woman took years. Some years it seemed like I wasn’t making any progress. Even now I am just now seeing definition in places I’ve been working on. Great things take time.

·       Stay in your lane: As a new gym goer, it was so intimidating to see other people with the physique I thought I wanted. To be honest, even now at times I still struggle with this. We’ve all seen a relay race where someone ends up winning because a member of another team decided to look back. That one second made all the difference. Don’t look back.

·       Consistency is key:  I’m sure we’ve all either seen this meme or a variation of it:

Consistency produces results. For a while I was discouraged that I wasn’t seeing any progress, and I was only going to the gym Monday- Wednesday. The other 4 days a week I was doing nothing! So if you aren’t seeing results (in whatever), maybe you aren’t being consistent.

 We all hate clichés, but even a broken clock is right twice a day. It may be time to give some of them a second look; you may be surprised what lessons you can learn.

Keep going. It’s not over yet.

Love always,

CDOG

I told God "You got it bruh"

Hi friends. It’s been an interesting year so far, and I took a little break from most social media to try to de-clutter my mind. I must say, my life has been so peaceful without Twitter, and I may leave it that way for awhile. (Update: Twitter is too funny to delete so I reactivated it.) Needless to say, all of the time I spent on social media was replaced by uh…worrying.

The other day I was riding in my car and I blurted out “God, I’m done. You got it bruh. Just do whatever you’re going to do and give me the strength to deal with it.” After I said that I felt about 5 lbs. lighter, and I’m not kidding. There is so much [redacted] going on in the world, and in my life, and ya girl is exhausted. It’s hard to discuss things like this because for some reason, despite me chronicling my frustrations about the trajectory of my life on this platform this is what I constantly hear:

“You seem to have it all together!”

This is my reaction every time I hear that:

My brain usually is like a high powered computer that has too many tabs open, and you know what happens to computer speeds after awhile; they slow down. That’s how I found myself, and I was tired of it. Besides just being uncomfortable, worrying and chronic stress has been proven to be a cause of several illnesses. Long story short, I was tired of being tired, so I just decided to let go (ok, I’m trying to let go) of several things:

• Stressing about my current income and career trajectory: This one was hard for me, because I have several regrets and at this point I have an executive level of experience (without the pay). Frustrated is an understatement, but I’ve taken accountability for my role in it, and am making strides to get to where I desire to be. However, if anyone has 10k they’d like to swing my way I’ll gladly accept it. 😂

• Stressing about finishing my degree “late”, and trying for a PhD “late”: I am blessed to be surrounded by high achievers and very ambitious people. With that being said, it can be hard to see peers have full PhDs at this point, and I’m just rounding the corner to finishing my Masters Degree. I’m learning to be where my feet are and realize that I’m probably where I’m supposed to be anyway.

• Stressing about homeownership: This one I’m still working through, partially because it’s always been stressed to be that owning a home was one of the milestones of adulthood. Every so often I get on Zillow and look at condos I can’t afford, and then get frustrated that at this point in my life I still can’t buy one yet.

• Stressing about romantic relationships: I’ll keep this one brief, because I feel like I’ve already aired out my grievances here. I will say this, as one of the only single friends left of any of my friend groups, it can be a little challenging.

  All that being said, I’m only controlling the things that I can, and doing my best to not worry about the rest. I hope this encourages you to do the same. It’s not over yet.

  Love always,

  CDOG
  
  

Life was supposed to be fair...

Hi friends! March has come and gone like it had somewhere to be, and it looks like April is following in its footsteps. Usually I would have had another post up by now, but I am releasing myself from the pressure of posting just for the sake of it. I hope you are doing the same in your lives.

I took a few days to unplug from the constant dinging of my phone and had some time to reflect on where I am at this stage in my life, and how vastly different I thought it would be. I’m pleased to say that it wasn’t all negative (please clap 😂), BUT it did start off that way. Here me out. My life was supposed to be fair. If you’ve read anything of mine or followed me on social media then you know at one point-in-time I was the poster child for a certain section of Christianity. I grew up heavily religious, I knew all the books of the Bible, I could tell you all the stories, and I followed all of the rules. I was taught that because I did this, my life was going to come with a series of rewards; finances, a nice car, a husband…that whole white picket fence thing. On the flip side, if I didn’t get any of those things, it meant that somehow I was unworthy and a sinner. Well guess what? I drive a 2017-year car, have no husband, and the economy sucks, so even though I am making the most money I’ve ever made, inflation is eating it up. 😊

But I’m still worthy anyway. And to be honest, I’m doing better than I realize.

But for a long time, I wallowed, because my life was supposed to be fair. I did everything “right”, so what happened?

As I’ve gotten older I realized that many of the rules bestowed upon us by the church are just other forms of control. “The fear of God” actually was used as a way to get us to do whatever the authoritative power wanted at the time. Policing women’s bodies and making us feel like we were responsible for preventing men from “temptation” was actually projection and a way to shift accountability. Promises of a lavish lifestyle if you follow the rules was just prosperity gospel wrapped up in a shiny package to get more bodies into seats on Sunday morning.

Now don’t get me wrong, my faith is still strong, but it’s time we took a deep dive into the theology some of us grew up on, and the way it has shaped how we view the world around us. While I’m glad I’m past the bitter “What about me?” stage, there are still so many young women and men who feel like a “Good God” did them a disservice because they followed the rules of men.

So, I get it. Life was supposed to be fair. But the reality is, it isn’t always that way. The good news is that there are a few things we can (try) to do to mitigate that.

• Be willing to unlearn. It sucks, but some of the things we were taught were just…well wrong.

• Lean into your community. If you haven’t learned already you will, you can’t do this thing alone. Ask for help.

• Remember that you are worthy. A harsh life (or season) doesn’t mean you did something wrong.

• Stop comparing yourself. A huge part of my attitude was simply because I wasn’t occupying the lane I was meant to be in.

It’s not over if you’re still breathing. Don’t quit.

Love always,

CDOG

Love is...

Hello friends! I’m currently writing to you from a place of deep introspection, while listening to Victoria Monét’s “Good Bye”. (It’s so good to see her getting her flowers, and she is a reminder to keep going). Anyway, this is the time of year where those who happen to be single usually lament about their lack of Valentine’s Day plans, or desire for companionship. As a member of the club, I get it. There is a lot going on and sometimes we may feel like having a partner could take the load off a little. What I’ve come to learn is that while romantic love may be the standard for some of us, it’s definitely not all there is. The love we seek to give to others comes from inside ourselves first. I know it’s cliche, but you really can’t give someone something that you don’t possess.

Some of you may be familiar with the scripture that describes what love is:

1 Corinthians 13:4-8 (NIV)

4 Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. 5 It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. 6 Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. 7 It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

8 Love never fails.

Now if you don’t read the Bible or believe in God, I understand. However, I think this passage can be useful anyway in taking a closer look at what love really is, and how we can love ourselves and others. Humor me for a few moments while I attempt to break this down:

• Love is patient and kind: How gracious have you been to yourself this week? A patient love sees beyond the faults of others (and ourselves). How much grace are you willing to extend to others? (Now there are some exceptions to this, but for the most part, I hope you’re following me.) When your friend hasn’t hit you up lately, do you just assume they are acting “funny”? Or do you check in and see how they are doing? Often the way people treat us is a reflection of them, not us.

• It does not envy, boast or is proud: When is the last time you did something for someone and didn’t post it on social media? Or keep score and expect something back from them? How often have you scrolled on IG and said “man, I wish I had what they have”?

• It does not dishonor others, is not self-seeking: True love is service. The end. I do not believe you can love and not seek to be of service in some way.

• Is not easily angered: See love is patient. Sometimes we have to love people and see them beyond their circumstances.

• Always protects, trusts, hopes and perseveres: Love is knowing that things can get better if we just have a little faith.

• Doesn’t fail: You can’t lose when you lead with love. Even if the results aren’t what you expect, you can walk away knowing you put your best effort out there. That’s always a win.

With that in mind, how much have you loved yourself and others lately? I truly believe this crazy world would be a tad bit better if we put more effort into loving ourselves and those around us. True love is community. Let’s try a little harder to emulate it.

Love always,

CDOG

Be Still

Hello friends. We have officially entered “I’ll circle back to this after the new year” season. My brain has already begun going into some sort of weird hibernation mode. In fact, I’m fighting sleep as I am typing this post, so it probably won’t be long. 😂

It’s been very quiet in my household as of late. A few weeks ago, the LED panel on my TV went out, and I just uh…haven’t replaced the TV yet. To top it off, I accidentally dropped a weight on my phone, and my screen has a very attractive crack on it, so needless to say the only technology that works correctly right now is the laptop I’m typing this post on. The message for this post is simple: be still.

As someone who is deeply introspective, you would think that I embrace the stillness, and sometimes I do, but oftentimes I appreciate a good distraction. After a long day, I look forward to crashing on the couch with a good meal, one of my many comfort shows and more recently, a weighted blanket (get one, it’ll change your life). Sometimes I’m not even watching whatever is on, but the sound of a human voice is a good distraction from whatever I have going on at the time. Since my TV has been out, I haven’t had that distraction, and I have been forced to sit and deal with some things that I would rather bury in the random sounds of ESPN, or the Food Network.

We live in such a “grind culture” society; where rest is frowned upon, and looking busy is mistaken for productivity. I have definitely fallen victim to this mentality at times, and in the wake of this forced quietness I realized I have been setting an arbitrary bar for myself that I keep moving after every accomplishment. Let’s just be honest, Birmingham is a small city, and it’s easy to get caught up in who is winning what award or who is in the spotlight, especially as a young professional trying to carve my own path. The irony is that this revelation came to me today, just as I’m on the wake of celebrating winning an award myself. I found myself (already) looking for the next achievement. As I type this, I’m realizing that the reason I’m always exhausted is because I don’t sit still. I always seem to find myself in circles with extremely high achievers, which sort of always intimidates me to get my [redacted] together and try to keep up with them. Big mistake.

In nature, all species have a period of rest. Bears hibernate during the winter, certain plants take months before they flower again, caterpillars can spend weeks in a cocoon before they emerge majestically into butterflies. Even before a storm there is a calm period. Sometimes the period of quiet is the miracle itself. I hope you take some time to be still. Take a deep breath, relax your shoulders. Embrace the silence. You never know what could come of it, and if nothing does, that’s ok too.

Love always,

CDOG

I am...

Hello friends! It’s a little unusual for me to have two posts in one month, but who knew this entrepreneurial journey would require so much self-reflection? Thanks to CO.STARTERS this week (again), I was forced to look inward and try to compose a story of who I am with a series of five statements. The catch, however was that I wasn’t allowed to repeat any of the specified phrases at all. All five statements had the same structure:

I am _____, I come from ______

I’ve been to _____, and _______ is my home.

I think/I believe/I see/I know/I am _________

When our cohort was given this assignment I thought it would be a piece of cake, because of course I know who I am. Duh. Except when it was time for me to get started, it took me a tad longer than I expected, and even after I had finished, I realized that in fact the five statements weren’t enough to encapsulate who I am. I was proud of the story I wrote about myself, so I’m going to share it below:

I am strong. I come from adversity. I’ve been to the lowest of lows and the highest of highs. Resilience is my home. I think that the most slept on can rise to great heights.

I am compassionate, I come from parents who did the best that they could. I’ve been to places no kid should have to go, and have been lifted from those same places. Empathy is my home. I believe that true kindness asks for nothing in return. It is it’s own reward.

I am understanding, I come from grace. I’ve been to volunteer at soup kitchens, and with those who may be unhoused. Service is my home. I see that most people are trying to do the best they can, and need more grace than we usually give.

I am grateful, I come from an area where some people become a statistic. I’ve been to a Blue Ribbon High School, and a world class university. Favor is my home. I know that despite my questioning faith, God has been gracious to me.

I am Candace. I come from Washington D.C. I’ve been to South Africa and Indiana. Community is my home. I am a woman making the best house of the cards she has been dealt.

If you’re really looking to figure out who you are and what makes you special, give this a try. Even if you are absolutely sure of yourself, who you are and what you stand for, I’m encouraging you to give this a shot. You may be surprised at the outcome.

Love always,

CDOG

Failing Forward

Hi friends! Can you believe it’s September already? As we round the last quarter of the year, I was greeted by a slight cool breeze this morning, a much welcome break from the searing heat and humidity we have been plagued with the majority of the summer. Today’s post is a little random, but I was inspired by something that seems to be a constant in my life, if even in a small way lately: failure. Now, before you roll your eyes and think that I’m having a pity party for myself, just bear with me for a bit (please).

I’ve always been a person of many passions, and often it is a struggle to blend all of them together into something that makes sense. I spend most of my days trying to flip and reverse ideas into something coherent, and often come up empty. Combine that with thinking about the constant increase in the cost of living, a lingering global pandemic, and all of the other unprecedented things we continue to live through, its easy to see how one (ok, me) can feel like I may be failing.

Monday night my perspective shifted.

I’ve had a business venture in mind for several years, and Monday was the first step in making it a tangible reality. I started a program called CO.STARTERS, which aims to equip ventures in all stages with the resources to turn ideas into action. As excited as I was to start the program, I also felt overwhelmed with all the information being presented. We got to a section that was titled “Is it worth it?”, where our facilitator challenged us to think about if the venture we are proposing is worth the risk we are embarking on. A few people mentioned that their venture would be worth it if they didn’t “fail”, to which he followed up with “What is failure to you?”

Before I could speak, one of the members of our cohort took the words out of my mouth: “To me failure is not trying. I’m used to excelling at things, so I don’t try anything I know I won’t excel at, even if I don’t want to do it.” It was almost as if my mail was being read at that very moment. I thought back over my own life; I was always pretty competent, and my teachers always made sure I knew they thought I was “gifted”. As I got older, I stuck to the things I knew I would be good at because…well, why wouldn’t I? Who wants to willingly fail at something? Why take a risk if I didn’t need to? Right…

Fast forward to Monday night, and I realized the real failure was me not trying. So Monday, I decided to try, and hopefully at the end of this program, even if I decide this business venture is not for me, I can shift my perspective. I didn’t fail, I just found something that doesn’t work, and I’ll pivot to something that does. So my friends, take the risk. Fail. Try. It’s not over unless you quit.

Love Always,

CDOG

Ask for It.

Hello friends! I am typing this in awe of just how quickly both June and July have flown by. I am also saddened by the fact that rent is almost due…again. 😂

Over the last 6-8 months I have really taken time to do an inventory of my relationships (platonic, romantic, family, you name it), and I have come to the conclusion that I have rarely been fulfilled in any of them. Now, before anyone jumps me, I’d like to point out that this is entirely…my fault. This isn’t to say that I do not enjoy them, because I do, and they are wonderful individuals. But (and this is a huge BUT), I am realizing that I always feel like something is missing, and it’s because I never truly set clear expectations and voice what I want from them.

As with most things that surface in (my) adult life, it stems from growing up with a physically abusive step-parent. Unfortunately, I was beaten for simple things, so it didn’t create an environment conducive to making requests, and I grew up on constant fear that if I didn’t say or do the right thing, the consequences were quite literally painful, and visible. So, I stayed quiet. It left me with the sense that asking for things meant I was difficult, and even though as an adult the threat of being hit is no longer there, that attitude remained with me, and I adopted the internal theme of “I don’t need much.” or “I’ll make do with what I’m given.” Needless to say this earned me the bare minimum in many relationships (of all kinds), and I took it because “At least they did something.”

I was in my car (as I usually am when revelations strike), that I had become extremely resentful of people who seemed to be “living their best life”. What were they doing that I wasn’t doing? I stay in my lane, I don’t bother anyone, I try to do the right thing…what was missing? Well, I was silent. I had set the expectation that I didn’t need anything from anyone, anything, or any situation, so guess what I got? Nothing. I didn’t ask my friends to hang out because I didn’t want to bother them. I didn’t tell my friends when I was going through something until much later because I didn’t want to burden them. I didn’t set clear expectations in romantic relationships because I didn’t want them to run away. I didn’t want to be the cause of any discomfort for anyone, and all it led to was constant disappointment and discomfort for me. Everybody else was fine. 😂

And guess whose fault it was? Mine! My friends didn’t know that I needed a little extra support from them? How would they? I have come to learn that the person who asks for little will receive even less.

So now, I ask for everything. Even if the answer is “no”. Asking doesn’t make you a burden, or difficult, and maybe, just maybe you’ll get everything you dream of.

Ask for it.

Love always,

CDOG

Community Ties

Hello friends! I can’t believe we are already halfway through June. I hope this year has been good to you so far. (If not, that’s ok too, because I truly believe that no rainy season lasts forever.) There has been a huge push for mental health awareness and reform lately, and it has made me think about the supportive communities that hopefully we have in those times where we may not be feeling the best. I am fortunate to have a pretty great community (built brick by brick), but I can recognize that some of us aren’t as fortunate.

A few days before my 30th birthday, I had a get-together with members of said community, and it made me reflect (that is so on brand for me; reflecting in the midst of something fun) on how my definition and accessibility to my community has changed over the years. In previous years, I thought of community as the people, places and things directly in my vicinity. During my undergraduate years at UAB, we had a wonderful student hub, affectionately known as the HUC (Hill Student Center). I didn’t even need to text my friends to see where they were, because after classes everyone would congregate there. It was a fabulous atmosphere. At the time, that was my community, and it was easy because we were all accessible. (Honorable mention was Mervyn Sterne Library, better known as “Club Sterne”.)

Time passed, people transferred to other universities, lived off-campus, or even got married and moved away. The community that was so easy to see was starting to discipate, and I wasn’t sure if I liked that. Imagine actually having to pick up the phone to make plans. Yuck. (Totally kidding) It made me take a real look at my friendships, and some of them unfortunately were only there because of our proximity to each other.

After graduation, my community seemed to shrink drastically. We had all drifted off into “real adulthood”, many of my peers got into serious relationships, which turned into marriages, or dove deep into our careers, and it left little time for those spontaneous get-togethers. And while yes, it may seem like a “duh” moment, for me it was jarring because everyone was always readily accessible. We traded “Club Sterne” and the HUC for group text messages and “yeah, we should definitely meet for lunch!”. (Guess what, sometimes life got in the way and that lunch never happened 😂.) The mundane tasks of life quickly became the norm, and it was easy to lose sight of the people that have always been accessible to me and I took that for granted.

Fast forward to my (almost) 30th birthday celebration, being surrounded by my community (both old and new), I realized that community is what you make it. It’s not about the length of time that you have known someone, but about the efforts they have made, and the impact they have had on my life. Yes, we may not see each other nearly as much as we would like, but when it matters, we show up. Making time for the people who are important to me, and vice versa is what community is all about. It takes intentional time and effort, and in our “grind” culture, many of us aren’t willing to devote that kind of energy to something that isn’t paying up tangible dividends. As busy as we all are, sometimes it only takes a “Hey, thinking about you” text or message to let someone know you care.

That’s community. I’m so grateful for mine, and I hope you choose to cultivate and nurture yours as well.

Love always,

CDOG

Black Men and Mental Health Part 3

Hello friends. As Mental Health Awareness Month comes to a close, I hope this mini-series has allowed us to continue to see the importance of sharing with others when we may be struggling. Unfortunately our society praises strength without knowing what it actually means. True strength and bravery is the courage to speak up in the face of struggle. No matter what we show on the outside, all of us deal with something. Some of us have the privilege of a great support system to get through it, or the appropriate resources to get help, but some of us are not as fortunate. Minorities have the added pressure of being expected to be “strong”, and it can be daunting.

I would like to salute everyone who contributed to this mini-series. Thank you for being brave.

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Last but certainly not least, I would like to introduce my longtime friend, Jay Jones. He is an advocate for all things mental health and hosts his own podcast on the topic: “Real Talk-The Mental Side of Life” (check it out on Spotify). Check out his thoughts below:

“Hello everyone! My name is Jay Jones and I’m a full advocate for mental health awareness especially during this month.

With the pandemic affecting all of our lives back in 2020, mental health entered the forefront of the conversation. We learned that the struggle that what we face on the inside is not something that should be ignored but rather discussed in the open. I have opened up about my own journey navigating through depression, anxiety and adjustment disorder that I live with every single day. Some days are easier than others but talking about it with people I love has helped along with other avenues such as therapy.

It took me years to reach to the point where I am open about my own mental health and sharing my story with others. This includes the highs and the lowest of lows.

To anyone who is reading this blog post, I want you to know that when people say that it is ok not to be ok, it is not a cliché. It is really ok. You are not going to be on 100% of the time and we all go through things that affect us. Confide in your loved ones, see someone to help you navigate through this world of mental health, and do your best to practice self-care. This isn’t just for this month. This is for you every day. Take care of yourselves.”

— Jay Jones

If you are reading this, remember that you are doing amazing.

Love always,

CDOG

Black Men and Mental Health Part 2

Hello friends! I am pleased to present today’s guest post in observation of Mental Health Awareness Month. Sometimes there are polarizing opinions on women creating safe spaces for men to express themselves, but I choose to take the stance that mental health is important for all, regardless of gender expression. Today I have the honor of introducing Jeremy Blackmon. He is someone I deeply admire for his transparency on this topic. I am thankful to him for sharing with all of us.

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“Imagine you live a pretty normal life (so you think), and then all of a sudden you are hit with a wave of despair, sadness, and a constant fight to hold back tears. You try not to think too much about it and shrug it off as the natural order of your emotional development. However, it just continues for days on end and nothing you do is bringing you any joy or satisfaction. When it starts to dawn on you that something is absolutely wrong, you confide in those closest to you, but they only make it worse because they do not understand and disregard how you feel with a “just pray about it” or “you’ll be okay. Just push through.” Not because they mean any ill intent, you all just don’t come from a community that thinks of mental health as something to develop and maintain as you go through life. Like me, I am pretty sure many of you know exactly what this experience is like, and how navigating through it is one of the best-worst things that can happen to your character development.

It was during my sophomore year of undergrad that this became my reality. I started to feel a deep sadness and a desperate cry for help on a daily basis. I thought I was crazy and kept it to myself as long as I could. This would prove to be an awful thought process to adopt. As I was trying to hold on to my masculinity and rationality, I was gradually deteriorating mentally. I wanted to maintain this tough persona and remain unfazed by life, but it was impossible. Many people began to notice that I was not myself and started to probe more than usual. It was then that I knew I needed to seek help.

Being a black man, it was hard to believe that I was dealing with a mental health issue. Growing up, anything dealing with mental health was labeled “white people stuff” and that was the end of that. So, it shouldn’t be any surprise as to why it was so difficult for me to confront the ever so developing inner struggle within myself. No one prepared me for the possibility of my life experiences taking a toll on me at some point in my life and that’s why I, and so many others that look just like me, found and find it so hard to confront their mental health journey in a healthy manner.

I physically shuddered at the thought of finding a therapist, let alone actually talking to one. Even so, I knew I had to get over myself if I was going to figure out what I was going through and how I should move forward. It took me three months of rationalizing before I finally attended my first therapy session, and let me tell you, it was so hard. Talking to a stranger about your problems??? That’s unheard of where I’m from, but as my therapist would later tell me, you can’t grow if you don’t get uncomfortable. And I definitely haven’t allowed myself to be comfortable since that first session.

I am sharing my story because I want other men and women that look like me and have a similar experience within their mental health to know they are not alone. Just because you are black does not mean you have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. You do not have to be strong and closed off because other people make you feel stupid/crazy for feeling the way you do. The mind is a scary thing when it takes on a personality of its own, but you become even more dangerous when you allow yourself to feel what you do and actually work to figure out how to overcome or cope with your mental health’s debilitating state.

You are not crazy, and you are not a victim. You are strong despite what the world has led you to believe. Give in to what you feel. Seek the help that is available to you. And leave that outdated way of thinking in the past. You are in a place that our parents and grandparents never thought possible for them, and it is up to you to ensure you are prepared to be the best version of you that there is. Mental health is a universal issue, and as long as breath is in my body, I will advocate for therapy and self-care with a relentless passion. ”

— Jeremy Blackmon

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I hope these honest truths about mental health give us the courage to admit that it is ok to ask for help. You are not weak, and you are not alone. Stay tuned for the finale this Wednesday.

Love always,

CDOG