This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.  

I know, you can’t plan for death - but I had a plan. I do everything I can to avoid surprises, shocks to the system, failure, or wrong turns.  So of course I had a plan for the hardest moment of my life.

I’m the kid that started researching colleges in sixth grade.  I wanted to be a lawyer or a professional softball player (before I realized women don’t make money in sports) or maybe a math teacher (until I took algebra).  I understood this meant getting good grades and working hard, so in 8th grade I started attending the high school debate team practices and playing travel softball.  This led to sports clinics, more research, and summers filled with practice instead of play.

In high school, I was the overachiever who attended summer programs at universities (which meant giving up the chance to play softball in college but increasing my scholarship opportunities, a calculated risk). I planned to attend an  ivy league, but a full ride forced my choice elsewhere.  I picked my major my second semester of college and never changed it.  I started volunteering that same semester with the organization that would hire me for my first career position before I graduated.  A few years later, I moved across the country and spent the next several years focused on career advancement, getting a masters degree, and serving on nonprofit boards.  There was also slam poetry - winning competitions in Seattle, making national teams, and participating in the scene.

Around 30 I realized a subliminal plan had been to get married. I asked myself, “If you are single for the rest of your life, what do you want your life to look like?” The answer was to be more financially secure, to own a house, to be the favorite auntie, to be closer to my grandparents as they came to their end of their lives, and to be closer to Allie and most of my family.  Soon it was another move across the country, another career advancement, buying the house big enough for lots of family to visit, getting the dog, even falling in love.  Love wasn’t part of the plan, so the break-up - while hard - didn’t change much. However getting laid off was a shock. But folks had been suggesting for some time that I start consulting, so I guess I already had a plan. Years of work prepared me for the transition, and suddenly I had a business that was paying the bills within six months.  There was a new pressure of figuring out how to grow a business, and setting more plans around my writing, my finances, and fixing up my house.

And then on October 14, 2021, my whole life stopped.  And it didn’t happen how I planned.

I mean, things kept going.  I was still working, still making plans for my house, still setting writing goals, still making financial plans.  But I was just going through the motions.  Under all of it, my real plan had been to be present with and for Allie.  To spend Christmases and holidays together.  To be able to drop everything at a moment's notice.  

It’s a weird thing when you accomplish a goal.  You usually set another, or never pause long enough to realize what you’ve accomplished.  I bought a house and moved on to the next thing.  I started a business and immediately focused on growing the business.  But being present for Allie - when that goal was over, there was no next goal.  Yes, her husband and kids are still a priority, as is the rest of my family.  But the goal of being the best person I could possibly be for Allie - that goal is finished.  And y’all, it is my proudest accomplishment.  I showed up for her as hard as she showed up for me, and I know how it feels to be loved like that.

But now I sit and try to make a five year plan and I can’t.  My entire life is going through a shift of priorities.  I’ve never not had a plan, and it’s disconcerting- but in this moment it feels liberating.  I ask myself, can I have enough patience and kindness to give myself this moment?  Can I be open to new possibilities, let things naturally build on themselves, and reassess priorities?  My therapist told me this is good, and pointed out that I’ve set small goals.  I gave myself a 30 day challenge of trying to be consistent with the things that are good for me - morning journaling, going to the gym, walking my dog.  I’ve thought about doing something only for fun, like taking a flower arranging class.  But money, a new car, even fixing up my house - those things aren’t rising to the top for me.  So what will?  What’s next?

My best friend once told me, during a particularly difficult time, “you’re making space for something big.”  I don’t know if “big” is the word I’d use.  But it does feel like I’m making space for myself.  For my grief, but also for my happiness.  It can’t go unnoticed that I’m also deprioritizing the things capitalism tells me I need in order to be successful.  For a Black woman who has always been an overachiever, and can never be without a plan, it’s hard to imagine a new way of life.  My hope is that I discover and prioritize the things that bring me joy.

It’s funny, I never thought about how that would be Allie’s wish for me, too.

Song of the Week: Funn (Daktyl Remix) - Cash+David