I am Courtney J.
I created this blog
to share my thoughts publicly on private matters
I experience as a young woman living in NYC.
The grand experience would be:
YOU taking away something for yourself,
feeling accompanied through your intimate thoughts and seeing that someone like me... can be just like someone like you.
I. AM. LOSING. IT.
Shouldn’t have started counting the days. It’s a daily reminder of how time is flying and giving me less time to reach my goals by 7/25.
Freaking out about it all today. I don’t think this cold weather is helping. If I was on a beach, I promise this wouldn’t be happening.
Know what else isn’t helping? The fact that New Orleans hotels are completely sold out for Essence Fest. Or that I don’t want to spend $1200 on any trip that doesn’t take me out the country (Vegas - July 4th wknd prices, blech).
I also have this terribly nagging feeling that no one is going to be interested in celebrating with me if I decided to throw a big party in NYC because all the socialites, associates, friends, etc of my past were narrowed down to the people that actually matter… and that amount cannot fill a room. It can fill a car at best. Perhaps a limo if you add family.
Rough day for this 29 1/2 year old.
Guess some of these less optimistic moments are a part of the journey too.
And those are my public thoughts on a private matter.
When did I grow up? 29 years old, 144 days (5 months) away from being 30 and I’m trying to figure out the moment I “felt” grown.
Was it that time when I had an off-and-on relationship with a very stern man who lived miles and miles away (and emotional levels apart) who waited until his child was almost a year old to tell me the kid existed?
Was it that day when my best friend of many years had slept with yet another man out of a group of my exes, friends and even relatives?
Maybe it was the day I got an unsolicited phone call from a man I spent years being a public friend/private lover to, calling and telling me he never loved me and we were never a thing; and I can go blog about that (despite the many emails/texts/voicemails I could present to anyone where he confessed the opposite).
No, those things just hurt.
I grew up when I realized that the people, events of the past, behaviors and even the desires of my heart didn’t define me; only my choices did.
And let’s face it, for all of that to have happened to me; it’s clear I’ve made some bad choices.
Some of them I was well aware of; others not so much. I stepped out on ignorance and called it faith. I trusted people after they proved themselves untrustworthy. I ignored the lack of responsibility to our friendship/relationship the other person had and continued to maintain mine. I allowed life to happen to me instead of grabbing hold of it and shaping it into what I wanted for myself.
It wasn’t because I was hell-bent on being stupid.
It was because that was what society was promoting and teaching me and perpetuating.
In my early 20s, everyone was so dismissive of the importance of time and of my nagging feeling to make serious decisions.
"You’ve got all the time in the world to: (insert goal I wanted to achieve)”
When speaking with people in their late 20s, early 30s: “Oh, you’re so young, don’t worry about it.”
When speaking with girlfriends about whether to stay or leave a guy: “What will be, will be.”
When speaking to guy friends: “Take life as it comes.”
When speaking about the future with significant others: “If it happens, it happens”.
I know better now. We all do; don’t we?
Every single person who said those things to me has or would apologize for the misguided remarks. Being in your early twenties does not make you invincible. You will not achieve your goals just because. You can’t let life just “happen" to you. The future doesn’t have to bring you to your goals; it just has to move you forward in time.
You have to set goals, apply yourself, stand by what you want and pay attention so that the first (ok, definitely by the second) time you see that something isn’t what you want it to be; move on and find something that is.
I got to this age through a lot of fun living, happiness and God’s grace.
I started to doubt myself when I felt increasing sadness, pain, disappointment and regret.
I grew up when I realized that my life was capable of being everything I could ever wish it to be by making choices. Good ones, hard ones, sad ones, but largely smart ones.
And now, 144 days away from 30, I’m challenging myself to make choices in my life that will get me closest to the person I want to be by 30. And…. to track my progress I’m going to write about it. Feel welcome to tag along.
Those are my public thoughts on a private matter,
I find it hard to say the words that come to mind.
They aren’t mine.
They are the words of a young woman who thinks herself broken, when she’s just bruised.
They are the ideas of a woman who’s true beauty rests beside the place where she feels changed; effected, by what someone else said and defined her to be one day, at the end of it.
Stronger, I find myself, than what she wants to express.
I’m stronger because I know what she doesn’t and what the one(s) who swayed her own image of herself do not.
I know that those opened mouths and blackened hearts speak less of her because they feel less of themselves; never admitting, never forgiving, never seeking to be redeemed ‘cause they are filled with false pride .
But false pride and presentation only reigns until the truth comes out.
Then the fraud is never trusted, even when the truth is finally mustered and they show who they really are. Even when obviously a star, no one will wish a single good word upon them.
So… she can’t be allowed to speak. Because she doesn’t speak the truth, she’d speak their lie.
She’d speak from a feeling and a time, a mad word and a failed attempt and an incorrect recollection of what happened.
I know the truth and the power of words.
By no filter of hers would the truth come out… but always by my own.
I know us entirely and never again will I present myself in part.
And that’s why lately… the words won’t start.